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diff --git a/data/samples/minimal/README b/data/samples/minimal/README new file mode 100644 index 0000000..23357e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/data/samples/minimal/README @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +This directory contains a few document samples (including two large ones found +only here) that use (and require) very minimal sisu markup. In these samples +hardly hardly any markup is required, and for the most part they look like +ordinary text files. Processing of the larger documents is pretty slow. diff --git a/data/samples/minimal/_sisu/image b/data/samples/minimal/_sisu/image new file mode 120000 index 0000000..e54c502 --- /dev/null +++ b/data/samples/minimal/_sisu/image @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +../../../image
\ No newline at end of file diff --git a/data/samples/minimal/_sisu/sisu_document_make b/data/samples/minimal/_sisu/sisu_document_make new file mode 100644 index 0000000..85e583e --- /dev/null +++ b/data/samples/minimal/_sisu/sisu_document_make @@ -0,0 +1,9 @@ +@make: + :breaks: break=1 + :home_button_text: {SiSU}http://sisudoc.org; {sources / git}http://sources.sisudoc.org/ +% :footer: {SiSU}http://sisudoc.org; {sources / git}http://sources.sisudoc.org/ +% :home_button_image: {sisu.png }http://sisudoc.org + +@links:+ + {SiSU}http://sisudoc.org + {sources / git}http://sources.sisudoc.org/ diff --git a/data/samples/minimal/_sisu/sisurc_SAMPLE.yml b/data/samples/minimal/_sisu/sisurc_SAMPLE.yml new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab13f22 --- /dev/null +++ b/data/samples/minimal/_sisu/sisurc_SAMPLE.yml @@ -0,0 +1,110 @@ +# Name: SiSU +# Author: ralph@amissah.com +# Description: site or directory wide environment defaults set here +# system environment info / resource configuration file, for sisu +# License: GPL v3 or later +# this file should be configured and live in +# /etc/sisu #per environment settings, overridden by: +# ~/.sisu #per user settings, overridden by: +# ./_sisu/config #per local directory settings +#% presentation/web directory, main path and subdirectories (most subdirectories are created automatically based on markup directory name) +webserv: +# #url_root: 'http://www.sisudoc.org' #without dir stub, e.g. this dir would map to http://www.sisudoc.org/samples +# #path: './tested' #either (i) / [full path from root] or (ii) ~/ [home] or (iii) ./ [pwd] or (iv) will be made from home +# #images: 'sisu/image' +# #man: 'man' +# #cgi: '/usr/local/lib/sisu-cgi' +##show_output_on: 'filesystem' #for -v and -u url information, alternatives: 'filesystem','webserver','remote_webserver','local:8111','localhost','localhost:8080','webrick','path' +webserv_cgi: +# host: localhost +# base_path: ~ +# port: '8081' +# user: ~ +# file_links: webserv # www.sisudoc.org +#show_output_on: 'filesystem_url' +#% processing directories, main path and subdirectories +processing: +## path: '~' +## dir: '_sisu_processing~' +## metaverse: 'metaverse' +## tune: 'tune' +## latex: 'tex' +## texinfo: 'texinfo' +## concord_max: 400000 +#% flag - set (non-default) processing flag shortcuts -1, -2 etc. (here adding colour and verbosity as default) +flag: + color: true # making colour default -c is toggle, and will now toggle colour off +# default: '-NQhewpotbxXyYv' # includes verbose; -m would in any event be run by default +# i: '-NQhewpoty' # -m run by default +# ii: '-NQhewpotbxXy' # -m run by default +# iii: '-NQhewpotbxXyY' # -m run by default +# iv: '-NQhewpotbxXYDy --update' # -m run by default +# v: '-NQhewpotbxXYDyv --update' # includes verbose; -m run by default +#% papersize, (LaTeX/pdf) current values A4, US_letter, book_b5, book_a5, US_legal, easily extensible +default: + papersize: 'A4,letter' #'A4,letter,b5,a5' +# #texpdf_font: 'Liberation Sans' +# #texpdf_font_sans: 'Liberation Sans' +# #texpdf_font_serif: 'Liberation Serif' +# #texpdf_font_mono: 'Liberation Mono' #'Inconsolata' +# #text_wrap: 78 +# #emphasis: 'bold' #make *{emphasis}* 'bold', 'italics' or 'underscore', default if not configured is 'bold' +# #language: 'fr' +# #language: 'en' +# digest: 'sha' #sha is sha256, default is md5 +#% settings used by ssh scp +#remote: +# #user: 'ralph' +# #host: 'sisudoc.org' +# #path: '.' #no trailing slash eg 'sisu/www' +#% webrick information +#% sql database info, postgresql +#db: +# engine: +# default: 'postgresql' +## share_source: true +# postgresql: +# port: '5432' # '5432' +# user: 'ralph' # '[provide username]' +# #host: 'sisudoc.org' +# +#% output_dir_structure_by: language (language_and_filetype); filetype; or filename (original v1 & v2) +##output_dir_structure_by: filename +##output_dir_structure_by: filetype +#output_dir_structure_by: language +# +#% possible values ~, true, false, or command instruction e.g. editor: 'gvim -c :R -c :S'. +##will only ignore if value set to false, absence or nil will not remove program as should operate without rc file +##ie in case of ~ will ignore and use hard coded defaults within program), true, false, or command instruction e.g. editor: 'gvim -c :R -c :S' +##on value true system defaults used, to change, e.g. editor specify +#permission_set: +# zap: true +# css_modify: true +# remote_base_site: true +#program_set: +# rmagick: true +# wc: true +# editor: true +# postgresql: true +# sqlite: true +# tidy: true +# rexml: true +# pdflatex: true +#program_select: +# editor: 'vim' #'gvim -c :R' +# pdf_viewer: 'evince' +# web_browser: 'iceweasel' +# console_web_browser: 'links2' +# epub_viewer: 'ebook-viewer' #'calibre' 'fbreader' +# odf_viewer: 'lowriter' +# xml_viewer: 'xml-viewer' +#search: +# sisu: +# flag: true +# action: http://search.sisudoc.org +# db: sisu +# title: 'SiSU search form (sample)' +#html: +# minitoc: true +#manifest: +# minitoc: true diff --git a/data/samples/minimal/alices_adventures_in_wonderland.lewis_carroll.sst b/data/samples/minimal/alices_adventures_in_wonderland.lewis_carroll.sst new file mode 120000 index 0000000..557fd4b --- /dev/null +++ b/data/samples/minimal/alices_adventures_in_wonderland.lewis_carroll.sst @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +../generic/alices_adventures_in_wonderland.lewis_carroll.sst
\ No newline at end of file diff --git a/data/samples/minimal/don_quixote.miguel_de_cervantes.sst b/data/samples/minimal/don_quixote.miguel_de_cervantes.sst new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a41039f --- /dev/null +++ b/data/samples/minimal/don_quixote.miguel_de_cervantes.sst @@ -0,0 +1,38674 @@ +% SiSU 4.0 + +@title: Don Quixote + +@creator: + :author: de Cervantes [Saavedra], Miguel + :translator: John Ormsby + +@language: + :document: English + :original: Spanish + +@classify: + :type: Book + :topic_register: SiSU:markup sample:book;book:novel:classical|farce|parody|satire|psychological novel;Spanish:original text;original text language:Spanish;study:literature:classical|english language + +% @rights: + +@date: + :published: 1615 + :created: 1605 + :issued: 1605 + :available: 1605 + :modified: 1615 + :added_to_site: 2004-04-12 + +@links: + { Don Quixote @ SiSU }http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/don_quixote.miguel_de_cervantes + { @ Wikipedia }http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Don_quixote + { Syntax }http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample/syntax/don_quixote.miguel_de_cervantes.sst.html + +@make: + :headings: none; PART; VOLUME; Chapter; + :breaks: new=:C; break=1 + +% SiSU: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu +% SiSU markup for 0.16 and later, header 0~links 0.20.4. may drop image dimensions (rmagick) 0.22.0, utf-8 (save as utf-8, with Unix line endings) 0.23.0 ß +% SiSU markup: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample +% Output: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/don_quixote.miguel_de_cervantes + +:A~ @title @creator + +PART I. - +DON QUIXOTE Volume I. Complete by Miguel de Cervantes, translated by John Ormsby + +1~ Translator's Preface + +2~ I: About this Translation + +It was with considerable reluctance that I abandoned in favour of the +present undertaking what had long been a favourite project: that of a new +edition of Shelton's "Don Quixote," which has now become a somewhat +scarce book. There are some--and I confess myself to be one--for whom +Shelton's racy old version, with all its defects, has a charm that no +modern translation, however skilful or correct, could possess. Shelton +had the inestimable advantage of belonging to the same generation as +Cervantes; "Don Quixote" had to him a vitality that only a contemporary +could feel; it cost him no dramatic effort to see things as Cervantes saw +them; there is no anachronism in his language; he put the Spanish of +Cervantes into the English of Shakespeare. Shakespeare himself most +likely knew the book; he may have carried it home with him in his +saddle-bags to Stratford on one of his last journeys, and under the +mulberry tree at New Place joined hands with a kindred genius in its +pages. + +But it was soon made plain to me that to hope for even a moderate +popularity for Shelton was vain. His fine old crusted English would, no +doubt, be relished by a minority, but it would be only by a minority. His +warmest admirers must admit that he is not a satisfactory representative +of Cervantes. His translation of the First Part was very hastily made and +was never revised by him. It has all the freshness and vigour, but also a +full measure of the faults, of a hasty production. It is often very +literal--barbarously literal frequently--but just as often very loose. He +had evidently a good colloquial knowledge of Spanish, but apparently not +much more. It never seems to occur to him that the same translation of a +word will not suit in every case. + +It is often said that we have no satisfactory translation of "Don +Quixote." To those who are familiar with the original, it savours of +truism or platitude to say so, for in truth there can be no thoroughly +satisfactory translation of "Don Quixote" into English or any other +language. It is not that the Spanish idioms are so utterly unmanageable, +or that the untranslatable words, numerous enough no doubt, are so +superabundant, but rather that the sententious terseness to which the +humour of the book owes its flavour is peculiar to Spanish, and can at +best be only distantly imitated in any other tongue. + +The history of our English translations of "Don Quixote" is instructive. +Shelton's, the first in any language, was made, apparently, about 1608, +but not published till 1612. This of course was only the First Part. It +has been asserted that the Second, published in 1620, is not the work of +Shelton, but there is nothing to support the assertion save the fact that +it has less spirit, less of what we generally understand by "go," about +it than the first, which would be only natural if the first were the work +of a young man writing currente calamo, and the second that of a +middle-aged man writing for a bookseller. On the other hand, it is closer +and more literal, the style is the same, the very same translations, or +mistranslations, occur in it, and it is extremely unlikely that a new +translator would, by suppressing his name, have allowed Shelton to carry +off the credit. + +In 1687 John Phillips, Milton's nephew, produced a "Don Quixote" "made +English," he says, "according to the humour of our modern language." His +"Quixote" is not so much a translation as a travesty, and a travesty that +for coarseness, vulgarity, and buffoonery is almost unexampled even in +the literature of that day. + +Ned Ward's "Life and Notable Adventures of Don Quixote, merrily +translated into Hudibrastic Verse" (1700), can scarcely be reckoned a +translation, but it serves to show the light in which "Don Quixote" was +regarded at the time. + +A further illustration may be found in the version published in 1712 by +Peter Motteux, who had then recently combined tea-dealing with +literature. It is described as "translated from the original by several +hands," but if so all Spanish flavour has entirely evaporated under the +manipulation of the several hands. The flavour that it has, on the other +hand, is distinctly Franco-cockney. Anyone who compares it carefully with +the original will have little doubt that it is a concoction from Shelton +and the French of Filleau de Saint Martin, eked out by borrowings from +Phillips, whose mode of treatment it adopts. It is, to be sure, more +decent and decorous, but it treats "Don Quixote" in the same fashion as a +comic book that cannot be made too comic. + +To attempt to improve the humour of "Don Quixote" by an infusion of +cockney flippancy and facetiousness, as Motteux's operators did, is not +merely an impertinence like larding a sirloin of prize beef, but an +absolute falsification of the spirit of the book, and it is a proof of +the uncritical way in which "Don Quixote" is generally read that this +worse than worthless translation--worthless as failing to represent, +worse than worthless as misrepresenting--should have been favoured as it +has been. + +It had the effect, however, of bringing out a translation undertaken and +executed in a very different spirit, that of Charles Jervas, the portrait +painter, and friend of Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, and Gay. Jervas has been +allowed little credit for his work, indeed it may be said none, for it is +known to the world in general as Jarvis's. It was not published until +after his death, and the printers gave the name according to the current +pronunciation of the day. It has been the most freely used and the most +freely abused of all the translations. It has seen far more editions than +any other, it is admitted on all hands to be by far the most faithful, +and yet nobody seems to have a good word to say for it or for its author. +Jervas no doubt prejudiced readers against himself in his preface, where +among many true words about Shelton, Stevens, and Motteux, he rashly and +unjustly charges Shelton with having translated not from the Spanish, but +from the Italian version of Franciosini, which did not appear until ten +years after Shelton's first volume. A suspicion of incompetence, too, +seems to have attached to him because he was by profession a painter and +a mediocre one (though he has given us the best portrait we have of +Swift), and this may have been strengthened by Pope's remark that he +"translated 'Don Quixote' without understanding Spanish." He has been +also charged with borrowing from Shelton, whom he disparaged. It is true +that in a few difficult or obscure passages he has followed Shelton, and +gone astray with him; but for one case of this sort, there are fifty +where he is right and Shelton wrong. As for Pope's dictum, anyone who +examines Jervas's version carefully, side by side with the original, will +see that he was a sound Spanish scholar, incomparably a better one than +Shelton, except perhaps in mere colloquial Spanish. He was, in fact, an +honest, faithful, and painstaking translator, and he has left a version +which, whatever its shortcomings may be, is singularly free from errors +and mistranslations. + +The charge against it is that it is stiff, dry--"wooden" in a word,-and +no one can deny that there is a foundation for it. But it may be pleaded +for Jervas that a good deal of this rigidity is due to his abhorrence of +the light, flippant, jocose style of his predecessors. He was one of the +few, very few, translators that have shown any apprehension of the +unsmiling gravity which is the essence of Quixotic humour; it seemed to +him a crime to bring Cervantes forward smirking and grinning at his own +good things, and to this may be attributed in a great measure the ascetic +abstinence from everything savouring of liveliness which is the +characteristic of his translation. In most modern editions, it should be +observed, his style has been smoothed and smartened, but without any +reference to the original Spanish, so that if he has been made to read +more agreeably he has also been robbed of his chief merit of fidelity. + +Smollett's version, published in 1755, may be almost counted as one of +these. At any rate it is plain that in its construction Jervas's +translation was very freely drawn upon, and very little or probably no +heed given to the original Spanish. + +The later translations may be dismissed in a few words. George Kelly's, +which appeared in 1769, "printed for the Translator," was an impudent +imposture, being nothing more than Motteux's version with a few of the +words, here and there, artfully transposed; Charles Wilmot's (1774) was +only an abridgment like Florian's, but not so skilfully executed; and the +version published by Miss Smirke in 1818, to accompany her brother's +plates, was merely a patchwork production made out of former +translations. On the latest, Mr. A. J. Duffield's, it would be in every +sense of the word impertinent in me to offer an opinion here. I had not +even seen it when the present undertaking was proposed to me, and since +then I may say vidi tantum, having for obvious reasons resisted the +temptation which Mr. Duffield's reputation and comely volumes hold out to +every lover of Cervantes. + +From the foregoing history of our translations of "Don Quixote," it will +be seen that there are a good many people who, provided they get the mere +narrative with its full complement of facts, incidents, and adventures +served up to them in a form that amuses them, care very little whether +that form is the one in which Cervantes originally shaped his ideas. On +the other hand, it is clear that there are many who desire to have not +merely the story he tells, but the story as he tells it, so far at least +as differences of idiom and circumstances permit, and who will give a +preference to the conscientious translator, even though he may have +acquitted himself somewhat awkwardly. + +But after all there is no real antagonism between the two classes; there +is no reason why what pleases the one should not please the other, or why +a translator who makes it his aim to treat "Don Quixote" with the respect +due to a great classic, should not be as acceptable even to the careless +reader as the one who treats it as a famous old jest-book. It is not a +question of caviare to the general, or, if it is, the fault rests with +him who makes so. The method by which Cervantes won the ear of the +Spanish people ought, mutatis mutandis, to be equally effective with the +great majority of English readers. At any rate, even if there are readers +to whom it is a matter of indifference, fidelity to the method is as much +a part of the translator's duty as fidelity to the matter. If he can +please all parties, so much the better; but his first duty is to those +who look to him for as faithful a representation of his author as it is +in his power to give them, faithful to the letter so long as fidelity is +practicable, faithful to the spirit so far as he can make it. + +My purpose here is not to dogmatise on the rules of translation, but to +indicate those I have followed, or at least tried to the best of my +ability to follow, in the present instance. One which, it seems to me, +cannot be too rigidly followed in translating "Don Quixote," is to avoid +everything that savours of affectation. The book itself is, indeed, in +one sense a protest against it, and no man abhorred it more than +Cervantes. For this reason, I think, any temptation to use antiquated or +obsolete language should be resisted. It is after all an affectation, and +one for which there is no warrant or excuse. Spanish has probably +undergone less change since the seventeenth century than any language in +Europe, and by far the greater and certainly the best part of "Don +Quixote" differs but little in language from the colloquial Spanish of +the present day. Except in the tales and Don Quixote's speeches, the +translator who uses the simplest and plainest everyday language will +almost always be the one who approaches nearest to the original. + +Seeing that the story of "Don Quixote" and all its characters and +incidents have now been for more than two centuries and a half familiar +as household words in English mouths, it seems to me that the old +familiar names and phrases should not be changed without good reason. Of +course a translator who holds that "Don Quixote" should receive the +treatment a great classic deserves, will feel himself bound by the +injunction laid upon the Morisco in Chap. IX not to omit or add anything. + +2~ II: About Cervantes and Don Quixote + +Four generations had laughed over "Don Quixote" before it occurred to +anyone to ask, who and what manner of man was this Miguel de Cervantes +Saavedra whose name is on the title-page; and it was too late for a +satisfactory answer to the question when it was proposed to add a life of +the author to the London edition published at Lord Carteret's instance in +1738. All traces of the personality of Cervantes had by that time +disappeared. Any floating traditions that may once have existed, +transmitted from men who had known him, had long since died out, and of +other record there was none; for the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries +were incurious as to "the men of the time," a reproach against which the +nineteenth has, at any rate, secured itself, if it has produced no +Shakespeare or Cervantes. All that Mayans y Siscar, to whom the task was +entrusted, or any of those who followed him, Rios, Pellicer, or +Navarrete, could do was to eke out the few allusions Cervantes makes to +himself in his various prefaces with such pieces of documentary evidence +bearing upon his life as they could find. + +This, however, has been done by the last-named biographer to such good +purpose that he has superseded all predecessors. Thoroughness is the +chief characteristic of Navarrete's work. Besides sifting, testing, and +methodising with rare patience and judgment what had been previously +brought to light, he left, as the saying is, no stone unturned under +which anything to illustrate his subject might possibly be found. +Navarrete has done all that industry and acumen could do, and it is no +fault of his if he has not given us what we want. What Hallam says of +Shakespeare may be applied to the almost parallel case of Cervantes: "It +is not the register of his baptism, or the draft of his will, or the +orthography of his name that we seek; no letter of his writing, no record +of his conversation, no character of him drawn ... by a contemporary has +been produced." + +It is only natural, therefore, that the biographers of Cervantes, forced +to make brick without straw, should have recourse largely to conjecture, +and that conjecture should in some instances come by degrees to take the +place of established fact. All that I propose to do here is to separate +what is matter of fact from what is matter of conjecture, and leave it to +the reader's judgment to decide whether the data justify the inference or +not. + +The men whose names by common consent stand in the front rank of Spanish +literature, Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Quevedo, Calderon, Garcilaso de la +Vega, the Mendozas, Gongora, were all men of ancient families, and, +curiously, all, except the last, of families that traced their origin to +the same mountain district in the North of Spain. The family of Cervantes +is commonly said to have been of Galician origin, and unquestionably it +was in possession of lands in Galicia at a very early date; but I think +the balance of the evidence tends to show that the "solar," the original +site of the family, was at Cervatos in the north-west corner of Old +Castile, close to the junction of Castile, Leon, and the Asturias. As it +happens, there is a complete history of the Cervantes family from the +tenth century down to the seventeenth extant under the title of +"Illustrious Ancestry, Glorious Deeds, and Noble Posterity of the Famous +Nuno Alfonso, Alcaide of Toledo," written in 1648 by the industrious +genealogist Rodrigo Mendez Silva, who availed himself of a manuscript +genealogy by Juan de Mena, the poet laureate and historiographer of John +II. + +The origin of the name Cervantes is curious. Nuno Alfonso was almost as +distinguished in the struggle against the Moors in the reign of Alfonso +VII as the Cid had been half a century before in that of Alfonso VI, and +was rewarded by divers grants of land in the neighbourhood of Toledo. On +one of his acquisitions, about two leagues from the city, he built +himself a castle which he called Cervatos, because "he was lord of the +solar of Cervatos in the Montana," as the mountain region extending from +the Basque Provinces to Leon was always called. At his death in battle in +1143, the castle passed by his will to his son Alfonso Munio, who, as +territorial or local surnames were then coming into vogue in place of the +simple patronymic, took the additional name of Cervatos. His eldest son +Pedro succeeded him in the possession of the castle, and followed his +example in adopting the name, an assumption at which the younger son, +Gonzalo, seems to have taken umbrage. + +Everyone who has paid even a flying visit to Toledo will remember the +ruined castle that crowns the hill above the spot where the bridge of +Alcantara spans the gorge of the Tagus, and with its broken outline and +crumbling walls makes such an admirable pendant to the square solid +Alcazar towering over the city roofs on the opposite side. It was built, +or as some say restored, by Alfonso VI shortly after his occupation of +Toledo in 1085, and called by him San Servando after a Spanish martyr, a +name subsequently modified into San Servan (in which form it appears in +the "Poem of the Cid"), San Servantes, and San Cervantes: with regard to +which last the "Handbook for Spain" warns its readers against the +supposition that it has anything to do with the author of "Don Quixote." +Ford, as all know who have taken him for a companion and counsellor on +the roads of Spain, is seldom wrong in matters of literature or history. +In this instance, however, he is in error. It has everything to do with +the author of "Don Quixote," for it is in fact these old walls that have +given to Spain the name she is proudest of to-day. Gonzalo, above +mentioned, it may be readily conceived, did not relish the appropriation +by his brother of a name to which he himself had an equal right, for +though nominally taken from the castle, it was in reality derived from +the ancient territorial possession of the family, and as a set-off, and +to distinguish himself (diferenciarse) from his brother, he took as a +surname the name of the castle on the bank of the Tagus, in the building +of which, according to a family tradition, his great-grandfather had a +share. + +Both brothers founded families. The Cervantes branch had more tenacity; +it sent offshoots in various directions, Andalusia, Estremadura, Galicia, +and Portugal, and produced a goodly line of men distinguished in the +service of Church and State. Gonzalo himself, and apparently a son of +his, followed Ferdinand III in the great campaign of 1236-48 that gave +Cordova and Seville to Christian Spain and penned up the Moors in the +kingdom of Granada, and his descendants intermarried with some of the +noblest families of the Peninsula and numbered among them soldiers, +magistrates, and Church dignitaries, including at least two +cardinal-archbishops. + +Of the line that settled in Andalusia, Deigo de Cervantes, Commander of +the Order of Santiago, married Juana Avellaneda, daughter of Juan Arias +de Saavedra, and had several sons, of whom one was Gonzalo Gomez, +Corregidor of Jerez and ancestor of the Mexican and Columbian branches of +the family; and another, Juan, whose son Rodrigo married Dona Leonor de +Cortinas, and by her had four children, Rodrigo, Andrea, Luisa, and +Miguel, our author. + +The pedigree of Cervantes is not without its bearing on "Don Quixote." A +man who could look back upon an ancestry of genuine knights-errant +extending from well-nigh the time of Pelayo to the siege of Granada was +likely to have a strong feeling on the subject of the sham chivalry of +the romances. It gives a point, too, to what he says in more than one +place about families that have once been great and have tapered away +until they have come to nothing, like a pyramid. It was the case of his +own. + +He was born at Alcala de Henares and baptised in the church of Santa +Maria Mayor on the 9th of October, 1547. Of his boyhood and youth we know +nothing, unless it be from the glimpse he gives us in the preface to his +"Comedies" of himself as a boy looking on with delight while Lope de +Rueda and his company set up their rude plank stage in the plaza and +acted the rustic farces which he himself afterwards took as the model of +his interludes. This first glimpse, however, is a significant one, for it +shows the early development of that love of the drama which exercised +such an influence on his life and seems to have grown stronger as he grew +older, and of which this very preface, written only a few months before +his death, is such a striking proof. He gives us to understand, too, that +he was a great reader in his youth; but of this no assurance was needed, +for the First Part of "Don Quixote" alone proves a vast amount of +miscellaneous reading, romances of chivalry, ballads, popular poetry, +chronicles, for which he had no time or opportunity except in the first +twenty years of his life; and his misquotations and mistakes in matters +of detail are always, it may be noticed, those of a man recalling the +reading of his boyhood. + +Other things besides the drama were in their infancy when Cervantes was a +boy. The period of his boyhood was in every way a transition period for +Spain. The old chivalrous Spain had passed away. The new Spain was the +mightiest power the world had seen since the Roman Empire and it had not +yet been called upon to pay the price of its greatness. By the policy of +Ferdinand and Ximenez the sovereign had been made absolute, and the +Church and Inquisition adroitly adjusted to keep him so. The nobles, who +had always resisted absolutism as strenuously as they had fought the +Moors, had been divested of all political power, a like fate had befallen +the cities, the free constitutions of Castile and Aragon had been swept +away, and the only function that remained to the Cortes was that of +granting money at the King's dictation. + +The transition extended to literature. Men who, like Garcilaso de la Vega +and Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, followed the Italian wars, had brought back +from Italy the products of the post-Renaissance literature, which took +root and flourished and even threatened to extinguish the native growths. +Damon and Thyrsis, Phyllis and Chloe had been fairly naturalised in +Spain, together with all the devices of pastoral poetry for investing +with an air of novelty the idea of a dispairing shepherd and inflexible +shepherdess. As a set-off against this, the old historical and +traditional ballads, and the true pastorals, the songs and ballads of +peasant life, were being collected assiduously and printed in the +cancioneros that succeeded one another with increasing rapidity. But the +most notable consequence, perhaps, of the spread of printing was the +flood of romances of chivalry that had continued to pour from the press +ever since Garci Ordonez de Montalvo had resuscitated "Amadis of Gaul" at +the beginning of the century. + +For a youth fond of reading, solid or light, there could have been no +better spot in Spain than Alcala de Henares in the middle of the +sixteenth century. It was then a busy, populous university town, +something more than the enterprising rival of Salamanca, and altogether a +very different place from the melancholy, silent, deserted Alcala the +traveller sees now as he goes from Madrid to Saragossa. Theology and +medicine may have been the strong points of the university, but the town +itself seems to have inclined rather to the humanities and light +literature, and as a producer of books Alcala was already beginning to +compete with the older presses of Toledo, Burgos, Salamanca and Seville. + +A pendant to the picture Cervantes has given us of his first playgoings +might, no doubt, have been often seen in the streets of Alcala at that +time; a bright, eager, tawny-haired boy peering into a book-shop where +the latest volumes lay open to tempt the public, wondering, it may be, +what that little book with the woodcut of the blind beggar and his boy, +that called itself "Vida de Lazarillo de Tormes, segunda impresion," +could be about; or with eyes brimming over with merriment gazing at one +of those preposterous portraits of a knight-errant in outrageous panoply +and plumes with which the publishers of chivalry romances loved to +embellish the title-pages of their folios. If the boy was the father of +the man, the sense of the incongruous that was strong at fifty was lively +at ten, and some such reflections as these may have been the true genesis +of "Don Quixote." + +For his more solid education, we are told, he went to Salamanca. But why +Rodrigo de Cervantes, who was very poor, should have sent his son to a +university a hundred and fifty miles away when he had one at his own +door, would be a puzzle, if we had any reason for supposing that he did +so. The only evidence is a vague statement by Professor Tomas Gonzalez, +that he once saw an old entry of the matriculation of a Miguel de +Cervantes. This does not appear to have been ever seen again; but even if +it had, and if the date corresponded, it would prove nothing, as there +were at least two other Miguels born about the middle of the century; one +of them, moreover, a Cervantes Saavedra, a cousin, no doubt, who was a +source of great embarrassment to the biographers. + +That he was a student neither at Salamanca nor at Alcala is best proved +by his own works. No man drew more largely upon experience than he did, +and he has nowhere left a single reminiscence of student life-for the +"Tia Fingida," if it be his, is not one--nothing, not even "a college +joke," to show that he remembered days that most men remember best. All +that we know positively about his education is that Juan Lopez de Hoyos, +a professor of humanities and belles-lettres of some eminence, calls him +his "dear and beloved pupil." This was in a little collection of verses +by different hands on the death of Isabel de Valois, second queen of +Philip II, published by the professor in 1569, to which Cervantes +contributed four pieces, including an elegy, and an epitaph in the form +of a sonnet. It is only by a rare chance that a "Lycidas" finds its way +into a volume of this sort, and Cervantes was no Milton. His verses are +no worse than such things usually are; so much, at least, may be said for +them. + +By the time the book appeared he had left Spain, and, as fate ordered it, +for twelve years, the most eventful ones of his life. Giulio, afterwards +Cardinal, Acquaviva had been sent at the end of 1568 to Philip II by the +Pope on a mission, partly of condolence, partly political, and on his +return to Rome, which was somewhat brusquely expedited by the King, he +took Cervantes with him as his camarero (chamberlain), the office he +himself held in the Pope's household. The post would no doubt have led to +advancement at the Papal Court had Cervantes retained it, but in the +summer of 1570 he resigned it and enlisted as a private soldier in +Captain Diego Urbina's company, belonging to Don Miguel de Moncada's +regiment, but at that time forming a part of the command of Marc Antony +Colonna. What impelled him to this step we know not, whether it was +distaste for the career before him, or purely military enthusiasm. It may +well have been the latter, for it was a stirring time; the events, +however, which led to the alliance between Spain, Venice, and the Pope, +against the common enemy, the Porte, and to the victory of the combined +fleets at Lepanto, belong rather to the history of Europe than to the +life of Cervantes. He was one of those that sailed from Messina, in +September 1571, under the command of Don John of Austria; but on the +morning of the 7th of October, when the Turkish fleet was sighted, he was +lying below ill with fever. At the news that the enemy was in sight he +rose, and, in spite of the remonstrances of his comrades and superiors, +insisted on taking his post, saying he preferred death in the service of +God and the King to health. His galley, the Marquesa, was in the thick of +the fight, and before it was over he had received three gunshot wounds, +two in the breast and one in the left hand or arm. On the morning after +the battle, according to Navarrete, he had an interview with the +commander-in-chief, Don John, who was making a personal inspection of the +wounded, one result of which was an addition of three crowns to his pay, +and another, apparently, the friendship of his general. + +How severely Cervantes was wounded may be inferred from the fact, that +with youth, a vigorous frame, and as cheerful and buoyant a temperament +as ever invalid had, he was seven months in hospital at Messina before he +was discharged. He came out with his left hand permanently disabled; he +had lost the use of it, as Mercury told him in the "Viaje del Parnaso" +for the greater glory of the right. This, however, did not absolutely +unfit him for service, and in April 1572 he joined Manuel Ponce de Leon's +company of Lope de Figueroa's regiment, in which, it seems probable, his +brother Rodrigo was serving, and shared in the operations of the next +three years, including the capture of the Goletta and Tunis. Taking +advantage of the lull which followed the recapture of these places by the +Turks, he obtained leave to return to Spain, and sailed from Naples in +September 1575 on board the Sun galley, in company with his brother +Rodrigo, Pedro Carrillo de Quesada, late Governor of the Goletta, and +some others, and furnished with letters from Don John of Austria and the +Duke of Sesa, the Viceroy of Sicily, recommending him to the King for the +command of a company, on account of his services; a dono infelice as +events proved. On the 26th they fell in with a squadron of Algerine +galleys, and after a stout resistance were overpowered and carried into +Algiers. + +By means of a ransomed fellow-captive the brothers contrived to inform +their family of their condition, and the poor people at Alcala at once +strove to raise the ransom money, the father disposing of all he +possessed, and the two sisters giving up their marriage portions. But +Dali Mami had found on Cervantes the letters addressed to the King by Don +John and the Duke of Sesa, and, concluding that his prize must be a +person of great consequence, when the money came he refused it scornfully +as being altogether insufficient. The owner of Rodrigo, however, was more +easily satisfied; ransom was accepted in his case, and it was arranged +between the brothers that he should return to Spain and procure a vessel +in which he was to come back to Algiers and take off Miguel and as many +of their comrades as possible. This was not the first attempt to escape +that Cervantes had made. Soon after the commencement of his captivity he +induced several of his companions to join him in trying to reach Oran, +then a Spanish post, on foot; but after the first day's journey, the Moor +who had agreed to act as their guide deserted them, and they had no +choice but to return. The second attempt was more disastrous. In a garden +outside the city on the sea-shore, he constructed, with the help of the +gardener, a Spaniard, a hiding-place, to which he brought, one by one, +fourteen of his fellow-captives, keeping them there in secrecy for +several months, and supplying them with food through a renegade known as +El Dorador, "the Gilder." How he, a captive himself, contrived to do all +this, is one of the mysteries of the story. Wild as the project may +appear, it was very nearly successful. The vessel procured by Rodrigo +made its appearance off the coast, and under cover of night was +proceeding to take off the refugees, when the crew were alarmed by a +passing fishing boat, and beat a hasty retreat. On renewing the attempt +shortly afterwards, they, or a portion of them at least, were taken +prisoners, and just as the poor fellows in the garden were exulting in +the thought that in a few moments more freedom would be within their +grasp, they found themselves surrounded by Turkish troops, horse and +foot. The Dorador had revealed the whole scheme to the Dey Hassan. + +When Cervantes saw what had befallen them, he charged his companions to +lay all the blame upon him, and as they were being bound he declared +aloud that the whole plot was of his contriving, and that nobody else had +any share in it. Brought before the Dey, he said the same. He was +threatened with impalement and with torture; and as cutting off ears and +noses were playful freaks with the Algerines, it may be conceived what +their tortures were like; but nothing could make him swerve from his +original statement that he and he alone was responsible. The upshot was +that the unhappy gardener was hanged by his master, and the prisoners +taken possession of by the Dey, who, however, afterwards restored most of +them to their masters, but kept Cervantes, paying Dali Mami 500 crowns +for him. He felt, no doubt, that a man of such resource, energy, and +daring, was too dangerous a piece of property to be left in private +hands; and he had him heavily ironed and lodged in his own prison. If he +thought that by these means he could break the spirit or shake the +resolution of his prisoner, he was soon undeceived, for Cervantes +contrived before long to despatch a letter to the Governor of Oran, +entreating him to send him some one that could be trusted, to enable him +and three other gentlemen, fellow-captives of his, to make their escape; +intending evidently to renew his first attempt with a more trustworthy +guide. Unfortunately the Moor who carried the letter was stopped just +outside Oran, and the letter being found upon him, he was sent back to +Algiers, where by the order of the Dey he was promptly impaled as a +warning to others, while Cervantes was condemned to receive two thousand +blows of the stick, a number which most likely would have deprived the +world of "Don Quixote," had not some persons, who they were we know not, +interceded on his behalf. + +After this he seems to have been kept in still closer confinement than +before, for nearly two years passed before he made another attempt. This +time his plan was to purchase, by the aid of a Spanish renegade and two +Valencian merchants resident in Algiers, an armed vessel in which he and +about sixty of the leading captives were to make their escape; but just +as they were about to put it into execution one Doctor Juan Blanco de +Paz, an ecclesiastic and a compatriot, informed the Dey of the plot. +Cervantes by force of character, by his self-devotion, by his untiring +energy and his exertions to lighten the lot of his companions in misery, +had endeared himself to all, and become the leading spirit in the captive +colony, and, incredible as it may seem, jealousy of his influence and the +esteem in which he was held, moved this man to compass his destruction by +a cruel death. The merchants finding that the Dey knew all, and fearing +that Cervantes under torture might make disclosures that would imperil +their own lives, tried to persuade him to slip away on board a vessel +that was on the point of sailing for Spain; but he told them they had +nothing to fear, for no tortures would make him compromise anybody, and +he went at once and gave himself up to the Dey. + +As before, the Dey tried to force him to name his accomplices. Everything +was made ready for his immediate execution; the halter was put round his +neck and his hands tied behind him, but all that could be got from him +was that he himself, with the help of four gentlemen who had since left +Algiers, had arranged the whole, and that the sixty who were to accompany +him were not to know anything of it until the last moment. Finding he +could make nothing of him, the Dey sent him back to prison more heavily +ironed than before. + +The poverty-stricken Cervantes family had been all this time trying once +more to raise the ransom money, and at last a sum of three hundred ducats +was got together and entrusted to the Redemptorist Father Juan Gil, who +was about to sail for Algiers. The Dey, however, demanded more than +double the sum offered, and as his term of office had expired and he was +about to sail for Constantinople, taking all his slaves with him, the +case of Cervantes was critical. He was already on board heavily ironed, +when the Dey at length agreed to reduce his demand by one-half, and +Father Gil by borrowing was able to make up the amount, and on September +19, 1580, after a captivity of five years all but a week, Cervantes was +at last set free. Before long he discovered that Blanco de Paz, who +claimed to be an officer of the Inquisition, was now concocting on false +evidence a charge of misconduct to be brought against him on his return +to Spain. To checkmate him Cervantes drew up a series of twenty-five +questions, covering the whole period of his captivity, upon which he +requested Father Gil to take the depositions of credible witnesses before +a notary. Eleven witnesses taken from among the principal captives in +Algiers deposed to all the facts above stated and to a great deal more +besides. There is something touching in the admiration, love, and +gratitude we see struggling to find expression in the formal language of +the notary, as they testify one after another to the good deeds of +Cervantes, how he comforted and helped the weak-hearted, how he kept up +their drooping courage, how he shared his poor purse with this deponent, +and how "in him this deponent found father and mother." + +On his return to Spain he found his old regiment about to march for +Portugal to support Philip's claim to the crown, and utterly penniless +now, had no choice but to rejoin it. He was in the expeditions to the +Azores in 1582 and the following year, and on the conclusion of the war +returned to Spain in the autumn of 1583, bringing with him the manuscript +of his pastoral romance, the "Galatea," and probably also, to judge by +internal evidence, that of the first portion of "Persiles and +Sigismunda." He also brought back with him, his biographers assert, an +infant daughter, the offspring of an amour, as some of them with great +circumstantiality inform us, with a Lisbon lady of noble birth, whose +name, however, as well as that of the street she lived in, they omit to +mention. The sole foundation for all this is that in 1605 there certainly +was living in the family of Cervantes a Dona Isabel de Saavedra, who is +described in an official document as his natural daughter, and then +twenty years of age. + +With his crippled left hand promotion in the army was hopeless, now that +Don John was dead and he had no one to press his claims and services, and +for a man drawing on to forty life in the ranks was a dismal prospect; he +had already a certain reputation as a poet; he made up his mind, +therefore, to cast his lot with literature, and for a first venture +committed his "Galatea" to the press. It was published, as Salva y Mallen +shows conclusively, at Alcala, his own birth-place, in 1585 and no doubt +helped to make his name more widely known, but certainly did not do him +much good in any other way. + +While it was going through the press, he married Dona Catalina de +Palacios Salazar y Vozmediano, a lady of Esquivias near Madrid, and +apparently a friend of the family, who brought him a fortune which may +possibly have served to keep the wolf from the door, but if so, that was +all. The drama had by this time outgrown market-place stages and +strolling companies, and with his old love for it he naturally turned to +it for a congenial employment. In about three years he wrote twenty or +thirty plays, which he tells us were performed without any throwing of +cucumbers or other missiles, and ran their course without any hisses, +outcries, or disturbance. In other words, his plays were not bad enough +to be hissed off the stage, but not good enough to hold their own upon +it. Only two of them have been preserved, but as they happen to be two of +the seven or eight he mentions with complacency, we may assume they are +favourable specimens, and no one who reads the "Numancia" and the "Trato +de Argel" will feel any surprise that they failed as acting dramas. +Whatever merits they may have, whatever occasional they may show, they +are, as regards construction, incurably clumsy. How completely they +failed is manifest from the fact that with all his sanguine temperament +and indomitable perseverance he was unable to maintain the struggle to +gain a livelihood as a dramatist for more than three years; nor was the +rising popularity of Lope the cause, as is often said, notwithstanding +his own words to the contrary. When Lope began to write for the stage is +uncertain, but it was certainly after Cervantes went to Seville. + +Among the "Nuevos Documentos" printed by Senor Asensio y Toledo is one +dated 1592, and curiously characteristic of Cervantes. It is an agreement +with one Rodrigo Osorio, a manager, who was to accept six comedies at +fifty ducats (about 6l.) apiece, not to be paid in any case unless it +appeared on representation that the said comedy was one of the best that +had ever been represented in Spain. The test does not seem to have been +ever applied; perhaps it was sufficiently apparent to Rodrigo Osorio that +the comedies were not among the best that had ever been represented. +Among the correspondence of Cervantes there might have been found, no +doubt, more than one letter like that we see in the "Rake's Progress," +"Sir, I have read your play, and it will not doo." + +He was more successful in a literary contest at Saragossa in 1595 in +honour of the canonisation of St. Jacinto, when his composition won the +first prize, three silver spoons. The year before this he had been +appointed a collector of revenues for the kingdom of Granada. In order to +remit the money he had collected more conveniently to the treasury, he +entrusted it to a merchant, who failed and absconded; and as the +bankrupt's assets were insufficient to cover the whole, he was sent to +prison at Seville in September 1597. The balance against him, however, +was a small one, about 26l., and on giving security for it he was +released at the end of the year. + +It was as he journeyed from town to town collecting the king's taxes, +that he noted down those bits of inn and wayside life and character that +abound in the pages of "Don Quixote:" the Benedictine monks with +spectacles and sunshades, mounted on their tall mules; the strollers in +costume bound for the next village; the barber with his basin on his +head, on his way to bleed a patient; the recruit with his breeches in his +bundle, tramping along the road singing; the reapers gathered in the +venta gateway listening to "Felixmarte of Hircania" read out to them; and +those little Hogarthian touches that he so well knew how to bring in, the +ox-tail hanging up with the landlord's comb stuck in it, the wine-skins +at the bed-head, and those notable examples of hostelry art, Helen going +off in high spirits on Paris's arm, and Dido on the tower dropping tears +as big as walnuts. Nay, it may well be that on those journeys into remote +regions he came across now and then a specimen of the pauper gentleman, +with his lean hack and his greyhound and his books of chivalry, dreaming +away his life in happy ignorance that the world had changed since his +great-grandfather's old helmet was new. But it was in Seville that he +found out his true vocation, though he himself would not by any means +have admitted it to be so. It was there, in Triana, that he was first +tempted to try his hand at drawing from life, and first brought his +humour into play in the exquisite little sketch of "Rinconete y +Cortadillo," the germ, in more ways than one, of "Don Quixote." + +Where and when that was written, we cannot tell. After his imprisonment +all trace of Cervantes in his official capacity disappears, from which it +may be inferred that he was not reinstated. That he was still in Seville +in November 1598 appears from a satirical sonnet of his on the elaborate +catafalque erected to testify the grief of the city at the death of +Philip II, but from this up to 1603 we have no clue to his movements. The +words in the preface to the First Part of "Don Quixote" are generally +held to be conclusive that he conceived the idea of the book, and wrote +the beginning of it at least, in a prison, and that he may have done so +is extremely likely. + +There is a tradition that Cervantes read some portions of his work to a +select audience at the Duke of Bejar's, which may have helped to make the +book known; but the obvious conclusion is that the First Part of "Don +Quixote" lay on his hands some time before he could find a publisher bold +enough to undertake a venture of so novel a character; and so little +faith in it had Francisco Robles of Madrid, to whom at last he sold it, +that he did not care to incur the expense of securing the copyright for +Aragon or Portugal, contenting himself with that for Castile. The +printing was finished in December, and the book came out with the new +year, 1605. It is often said that "Don Quixote" was at first received +coldly. The facts show just the contrary. No sooner was it in the hands +of the public than preparations were made to issue pirated editions at +Lisbon and Valencia, and to bring out a second edition with the +additional copyrights for Aragon and Portugal, which he secured in +February. + +No doubt it was received with something more than coldness by certain +sections of the community. Men of wit, taste, and discrimination among +the aristocracy gave it a hearty welcome, but the aristocracy in general +were not likely to relish a book that turned their favourite reading into +ridicule and laughed at so many of their favourite ideas. The dramatists +who gathered round Lope as their leader regarded Cervantes as their +common enemy, and it is plain that he was equally obnoxious to the other +clique, the culto poets who had Gongora for their chief. Navarrete, who +knew nothing of the letter above mentioned, tries hard to show that the +relations between Cervantes and Lope were of a very friendly sort, as +indeed they were until "Don Quixote" was written. Cervantes, indeed, to +the last generously and manfully declared his admiration of Lope's +powers, his unfailing invention, and his marvellous fertility; but in the +preface of the First Part of "Don Quixote" and in the verses of "Urganda +the Unknown," and one or two other places, there are, if we read between +the lines, sly hits at Lope's vanities and affectations that argue no +personal good-will; and Lope openly sneers at "Don Quixote" and +Cervantes, and fourteen years after his death gives him only a few lines +of cold commonplace in the "Laurel de Apolo," that seem all the colder +for the eulogies of a host of nonentities whose names are found nowhere +else. + +In 1601 Valladolid was made the seat of the Court, and at the beginning +of 1603 Cervantes had been summoned thither in connection with the +balance due by him to the Treasury, which was still outstanding. He +remained at Valladolid, apparently supporting himself by agencies and +scrivener's work of some sort; probably drafting petitions and drawing up +statements of claims to be presented to the Council, and the like. So, at +least, we gather from the depositions taken on the occasion of the death +of a gentleman, the victim of a street brawl, who had been carried into +the house in which he lived. In these he himself is described as a man +who wrote and transacted business, and it appears that his household then +consisted of his wife, the natural daughter Isabel de Saavedra already +mentioned, his sister Andrea, now a widow, her daughter Constanza, a +mysterious Magdalena de Sotomayor calling herself his sister, for whom +his biographers cannot account, and a servant-maid. + +Meanwhile "Don Quixote" had been growing in favour, and its author's name +was now known beyond the Pyrenees. In 1607 an edition was printed at +Brussels. Robles, the Madrid publisher, found it necessary to meet the +demand by a third edition, the seventh in all, in 1608. The popularity of +the book in Italy was such that a Milan bookseller was led to bring out +an edition in 1610; and another was called for in Brussels in 1611. It +might naturally have been expected that, with such proofs before him that +he had hit the taste of the public, Cervantes would have at once set +about redeeming his rather vague promise of a second volume. + +But, to all appearance, nothing was farther from his thoughts. He had +still by him one or two short tales of the same vintage as those he had +inserted in "Don Quixote" and instead of continuing the adventures of Don +Quixote, he set to work to write more of these "Novelas Exemplares" as he +afterwards called them, with a view to making a book of them. + +The novels were published in the summer of 1613, with a dedication to the +Conde de Lemos, the Maecenas of the day, and with one of those chatty +confidential prefaces Cervantes was so fond of. In this, eight years and +a half after the First Part of "Don Quixote" had appeared, we get the +first hint of a forthcoming Second Part. "You shall see shortly," he +says, "the further exploits of Don Quixote and humours of Sancho Panza." +His idea of "shortly" was a somewhat elastic one, for, as we know by the +date to Sancho's letter, he had barely one-half of the book completed +that time twelvemonth. + +But more than poems, or pastorals, or novels, it was his dramatic +ambition that engrossed his thoughts. The same indomitable spirit that +kept him from despair in the bagnios of Algiers, and prompted him to +attempt the escape of himself and his comrades again and again, made him +persevere in spite of failure and discouragement in his efforts to win +the ear of the public as a dramatist. The temperament of Cervantes was +essentially sanguine. The portrait he draws in the preface to the novels, +with the aquiline features, chestnut hair, smooth untroubled forehead, +and bright cheerful eyes, is the very portrait of a sanguine man. Nothing +that the managers might say could persuade him that the merits of his +plays would not be recognised at last if they were only given a fair +chance. The old soldier of the Spanish Salamis was bent on being the +Aeschylus of Spain. He was to found a great national drama, based on the +true principles of art, that was to be the envy of all nations; he was to +drive from the stage the silly, childish plays, the "mirrors of nonsense +and models of folly" that were in vogue through the cupidity of the +managers and shortsightedness of the authors; he was to correct and +educate the public taste until it was ripe for tragedies on the model of +the Greek drama--like the "Numancia" for instance--and comedies that +would not only amuse but improve and instruct. All this he was to do, +could he once get a hearing: there was the initial difficulty. + +He shows plainly enough, too, that "Don Quixote" and the demolition of +the chivalry romances was not the work that lay next his heart. He was, +indeed, as he says himself in his preface, more a stepfather than a +father to "Don Quixote." Never was great work so neglected by its author. +That it was written carelessly, hastily, and by fits and starts, was not +always his fault, but it seems clear he never read what he sent to the +press. He knew how the printers had blundered, but he never took the +trouble to correct them when the third edition was in progress, as a man +who really cared for the child of his brain would have done. He appears +to have regarded the book as little more than a mere libro de +entretenimiento, an amusing book, a thing, as he says in the "Viaje," "to +divert the melancholy moody heart at any time or season." No doubt he had +an affection for his hero, and was very proud of Sancho Panza. It would +have been strange indeed if he had not been proud of the most humorous +creation in all fiction. He was proud, too, of the popularity and success +of the book, and beyond measure delightful is the naivete with which he +shows his pride in a dozen passages in the Second Part. But it was not +the success he coveted. In all probability he would have given all the +success of "Don Quixote," nay, would have seen every copy of "Don +Quixote" burned in the Plaza Mayor, for one such success as Lope de Vega +was enjoying on an average once a week. + +And so he went on, dawdling over "Don Quixote," adding a chapter now and +again, and putting it aside to turn to "Persiles and Sigismunda"--which, +as we know, was to be the most entertaining book in the language, and the +rival of "Theagenes and Chariclea"--or finishing off one of his darling +comedies; and if Robles asked when "Don Quixote" would be ready, the +answer no doubt was: En breve-shortly, there was time enough for that. At +sixty-eight he was as full of life and hope and plans for the future as a +boy of eighteen. + +Nemesis was coming, however. He had got as far as Chapter LIX, which at +his leisurely pace he could hardly have reached before October or +November 1614, when there was put into his hand a small octave lately +printed at Tarragona, and calling itself "Second Volume of the Ingenious +Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha: by the Licentiate Alonso Fernandez de +Avellaneda of Tordesillas." The last half of Chapter LIX and most of the +following chapters of the Second Part give us some idea of the effect +produced upon him, and his irritation was not likely to be lessened by +the reflection that he had no one to blame but himself. Had Avellaneda, +in fact, been content with merely bringing out a continuation to "Don +Quixote," Cervantes would have had no reasonable grievance. His own +intentions were expressed in the very vaguest language at the end of the +book; nay, in his last words, "forse altro cantera con miglior plettro," +he seems actually to invite some one else to continue the work, and he +made no sign until eight years and a half had gone by; by which time +Avellaneda's volume was no doubt written. + +In fact Cervantes had no case, or a very bad one, as far as the mere +continuation was concerned. But Avellaneda chose to write a preface to +it, full of such coarse personal abuse as only an ill-conditioned man +could pour out. He taunts Cervantes with being old, with having lost his +hand, with having been in prison, with being poor, with being friendless, +accuses him of envy of Lope's success, of petulance and querulousness, +and so on; and it was in this that the sting lay. Avellaneda's reason for +this personal attack is obvious enough. Whoever he may have been, it is +clear that he was one of the dramatists of Lope's school, for he has the +impudence to charge Cervantes with attacking him as well as Lope in his +criticism on the drama. His identification has exercised the best critics +and baffled all the ingenuity and research that has been brought to bear +on it. Navarrete and Ticknor both incline to the belief that Cervantes +knew who he was; but I must say I think the anger he shows suggests an +invisible assailant; it is like the irritation of a man stung by a +mosquito in the dark. Cervantes from certain solecisms of language +pronounces him to be an Aragonese, and Pellicer, an Aragonese himself, +supports this view and believes him, moreover, to have been an +ecclesiastic, a Dominican probably. + +Any merit Avellaneda has is reflected from Cervantes, and he is too dull +to reflect much. "Dull and dirty" will always be, I imagine, the verdict +of the vast majority of unprejudiced readers. He is, at best, a poor +plagiarist; all he can do is to follow slavishly the lead given him by +Cervantes; his only humour lies in making Don Quixote take inns for +castles and fancy himself some legendary or historical personage, and +Sancho mistake words, invert proverbs, and display his gluttony; all +through he shows a proclivity to coarseness and dirt, and he has +contrived to introduce two tales filthier than anything by the sixteenth +century novellieri and without their sprightliness. + +But whatever Avellaneda and his book may be, we must not forget the debt +we owe them. But for them, there can be no doubt, "Don Quixote" would +have come to us a mere torso instead of a complete work. Even if +Cervantes had finished the volume he had in hand, most assuredly he would +have left off with a promise of a Third Part, giving the further +adventures of Don Quixote and humours of Sancho Panza as shepherds. It is +plain that he had at one time an intention of dealing with the pastoral +romances as he had dealt with the books of chivalry, and but for +Avellaneda he would have tried to carry it out. But it is more likely +that, with his plans, and projects, and hopefulness, the volume would +have remained unfinished till his death, and that we should have never +made the acquaintance of the Duke and Duchess, or gone with Sancho to +Barataria. + +From the moment the book came into his hands he seems to have been +haunted by the fear that there might be more Avellanedas in the field, +and putting everything else aside, he set himself to finish off his task +and protect Don Quixote in the only way he could, by killing him. The +conclusion is no doubt a hasty and in some places clumsy piece of work +and the frequent repetition of the scolding administered to Avellaneda +becomes in the end rather wearisome; but it is, at any rate, a conclusion +and for that we must thank Avellaneda. + +The new volume was ready for the press in February, but was not printed +till the very end of 1615, and during the interval Cervantes put together +the comedies and interludes he had written within the last few years, +and, as he adds plaintively, found no demand for among the managers, and +published them with a preface, worth the book it introduces tenfold, in +which he gives an account of the early Spanish stage, and of his own +attempts as a dramatist. It is needless to say they were put forward by +Cervantes in all good faith and full confidence in their merits. The +reader, however, was not to suppose they were his last word or final +effort in the drama, for he had in hand a comedy called "Engano a los +ojos," about which, if he mistook not, there would be no question. + +Of this dramatic masterpiece the world has no opportunity of judging; his +health had been failing for some time, and he died, apparently of dropsy, +on the 23rd of April, 1616, the day on which England lost Shakespeare, +nominally at least, for the English calendar had not yet been reformed. +He died as he had lived, accepting his lot bravely and cheerfully. + +Was it an unhappy life, that of Cervantes? His biographers all tell us +that it was; but I must say I doubt it. It was a hard life, a life of +poverty, of incessant struggle, of toil ill paid, of disappointment, but +Cervantes carried within himself the antidote to all these evils. His was +not one of those light natures that rise above adversity merely by virtue +of their own buoyancy; it was in the fortitude of a high spirit that he +was proof against it. It is impossible to conceive Cervantes giving way +to despondency or prostrated by dejection. As for poverty, it was with +him a thing to be laughed over, and the only sigh he ever allows to +escape him is when he says, "Happy he to whom Heaven has given a piece of +bread for which he is not bound to give thanks to any but Heaven itself." +Add to all this his vital energy and mental activity, his restless +invention and his sanguine temperament, and there will be reason enough +to doubt whether his could have been a very unhappy life. He who could +take Cervantes' distresses together with his apparatus for enduring them +would not make so bad a bargain, perhaps, as far as happiness in life is +concerned. + +Of his burial-place nothing is known except that he was buried, in +accordance with his will, in the neighbouring convent of Trinitarian +nuns, of which it is supposed his daughter, Isabel de Saavedra, was an +inmate, and that a few years afterwards the nuns removed to another +convent, carrying their dead with them. But whether the remains of +Cervantes were included in the removal or not no one knows, and the clue +to their resting-place is now lost beyond all hope. This furnishes +perhaps the least defensible of the items in the charge of neglect +brought against his contemporaries. In some of the others there is a good +deal of exaggeration. To listen to most of his biographers one would +suppose that all Spain was in league not only against the man but against +his memory, or at least that it was insensible to his merits, and left +him to live in misery and die of want. To talk of his hard life and +unworthy employments in Andalusia is absurd. What had he done to +distinguish him from thousands of other struggling men earning a +precarious livelihood? True, he was a gallant soldier, who had been +wounded and had undergone captivity and suffering in his country's cause, +but there were hundreds of others in the same case. He had written a +mediocre specimen of an insipid class of romance, and some plays which +manifestly did not comply with the primary condition of pleasing: were +the playgoers to patronise plays that did not amuse them, because the +author was to produce "Don Quixote" twenty years afterwards? + +The scramble for copies which, as we have seen, followed immediately on +the appearance of the book, does not look like general insensibility to +its merits. No doubt it was received coldly by some, but if a man writes +a book in ridicule of periwigs he must make his account with being coldly +received by the periwig wearers and hated by the whole tribe of +wigmakers. If Cervantes had the chivalry-romance readers, the +sentimentalists, the dramatists, and the poets of the period all against +him, it was because "Don Quixote" was what it was; and if the general +public did not come forward to make him comfortable for the rest of his +days, it is no more to be charged with neglect and ingratitude than the +English-speaking public that did not pay off Scott's liabilities. It did +the best it could; it read his book and liked it and bought it, and +encouraged the bookseller to pay him well for others. + +It has been also made a reproach to Spain that she has erected no +monument to the man she is proudest of; no monument, that is to say, of +him; for the bronze statue in the little garden of the Plaza de las +Cortes, a fair work of art no doubt, and unexceptionable had it been set +up to the local poet in the market-place of some provincial town, is not +worthy of Cervantes or of Madrid. But what need has Cervantes of "such +weak witness of his name;" or what could a monument do in his case except +testify to the self-glorification of those who had put it up? Si +monumentum quoeris, circumspice. The nearest bookseller's shop will show +what bathos there would be in a monument to the author of "Don Quixote." + +Nine editions of the First Part of "Don Quixote" had already appeared +before Cervantes died, thirty thousand copies in all, according to his +own estimate, and a tenth was printed at Barcelona the year after his +death. So large a number naturally supplied the demand for some time, but +by 1634 it appears to have been exhausted; and from that time down to the +present day the stream of editions has continued to flow rapidly and +regularly. The translations show still more clearly in what request the +book has been from the very outset. In seven years from the completion of +the work it had been translated into the four leading languages of +Europe. Except the Bible, in fact, no book has been so widely diffused as +"Don Quixote." The "Imitatio Christi" may have been translated into as +many different languages, and perhaps "Robinson Crusoe" and the "Vicar of +Wakefield" into nearly as many, but in multiplicity of translations and +editions "Don Quixote" leaves them all far behind. + +Still more remarkable is the character of this wide diffusion. "Don +Quixote" has been thoroughly naturalised among people whose ideas about +knight-errantry, if they had any at all, were of the vaguest, who had +never seen or heard of a book of chivalry, who could not possibly feel +the humour of the burlesque or sympathise with the author's purpose. +Another curious fact is that this, the most cosmopolitan book in the +world, is one of the most intensely national. "Manon Lescaut" is not more +thoroughly French, "Tom Jones" not more English, "Rob Roy" not more +Scotch, than "Don Quixote" is Spanish, in character, in ideas, in +sentiment, in local colour, in everything. What, then, is the secret of +this unparalleled popularity, increasing year by year for well-nigh three +centuries? One explanation, no doubt, is that of all the books in the +world, "Don Quixote" is the most catholic. There is something in it for +every sort of reader, young or old, sage or simple, high or low. As +Cervantes himself says with a touch of pride, "It is thumbed and read and +got by heart by people of all sorts; the children turn its leaves, the +young people read it, the grown men understand it, the old folk praise +it." + +But it would be idle to deny that the ingredient which, more than its +humour, or its wisdom, or the fertility of invention or knowledge of +human nature it displays, has insured its success with the multitude, is +the vein of farce that runs through it. It was the attack upon the sheep, +the battle with the wine-skins, Mambrino's helmet, the balsam of +Fierabras, Don Quixote knocked over by the sails of the windmill, Sancho +tossed in the blanket, the mishaps and misadventures of master and man, +that were originally the great attraction, and perhaps are so still to +some extent with the majority of readers. It is plain that "Don Quixote" +was generally regarded at first, and indeed in Spain for a long time, as +little more than a queer droll book, full of laughable incidents and +absurd situations, very amusing, but not entitled to much consideration +or care. All the editions printed in Spain from 1637 to 1771, when the +famous printer Ibarra took it up, were mere trade editions, badly and +carelessly printed on vile paper and got up in the style of chap-books +intended only for popular use, with, in most instances, uncouth +illustrations and clap-trap additions by the publisher. + +To England belongs the credit of having been the first country to +recognise the right of "Don Quixote" to better treatment than this. The +London edition of 1738, commonly called Lord Carteret's from having been +suggested by him, was not a mere edition de luxe. It produced "Don +Quixote" in becoming form as regards paper and type, and embellished with +plates which, if not particularly happy as illustrations, were at least +well intentioned and well executed, but it also aimed at correctness of +text, a matter to which nobody except the editors of the Valencia and +Brussels editions had given even a passing thought; and for a first +attempt it was fairly successful, for though some of its emendations are +inadmissible, a good many of them have been adopted by all subsequent +editors. + +The zeal of publishers, editors, and annotators brought about a +remarkable change of sentiment with regard to "Don Quixote." A vast +number of its admirers began to grow ashamed of laughing over it. It +became almost a crime to treat it as a humorous book. The humour was not +entirely denied, but, according to the new view, it was rated as an +altogether secondary quality, a mere accessory, nothing more than the +stalking-horse under the presentation of which Cervantes shot his +philosophy or his satire, or whatever it was he meant to shoot; for on +this point opinions varied. All were agreed, however, that the object he +aimed at was not the books of chivalry. He said emphatically in the +preface to the First Part and in the last sentence of the Second, that he +had no other object in view than to discredit these books, and this, to +advanced criticism, made it clear that his object must have been +something else. + +One theory was that the book was a kind of allegory, setting forth the +eternal struggle between the ideal and the real, between the spirit of +poetry and the spirit of prose; and perhaps German philosophy never +evolved a more ungainly or unlikely camel out of the depths of its inner +consciousness. Something of the antagonism, no doubt, is to be found in +"Don Quixote," because it is to be found everywhere in life, and +Cervantes drew from life. It is difficult to imagine a community in which +the never-ceasing game of cross-purposes between Sancho Panza and Don +Quixote would not be recognized as true to nature. In the stone age, +among the lake dwellers, among the cave men, there were Don Quixotes and +Sancho Panzas; there must have been the troglodyte who never could see +the facts before his eyes, and the troglodyte who could see nothing else. +But to suppose Cervantes deliberately setting himself to expound any such +idea in two stout quarto volumes is to suppose something not only very +unlike the age in which he lived, but altogether unlike Cervantes +himself, who would have been the first to laugh at an attempt of the sort +made by anyone else. + +The extraordinary influence of the romances of chivalry in his day is +quite enough to account for the genesis of the book. Some idea of the +prodigious development of this branch of literature in the sixteenth +century may be obtained from the scrutiny of Chapter VII, if the reader +bears in mind that only a portion of the romances belonging to by far the +largest group are enumerated. As to its effect upon the nation, there is +abundant evidence. From the time when the Amadises and Palmerins began to +grow popular down to the very end of the century, there is a steady +stream of invective, from men whose character and position lend weight to +their words, against the romances of chivalry and the infatuation of +their readers. Ridicule was the only besom to sweep away that dust. + +That this was the task Cervantes set himself, and that he had ample +provocation to urge him to it, will be sufficiently clear to those who +look into the evidence; as it will be also that it was not chivalry +itself that he attacked and swept away. Of all the absurdities that, +thanks to poetry, will be repeated to the end of time, there is no +greater one than saying that "Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away." In +the first place there was no chivalry for him to smile away. Spain's +chivalry had been dead for more than a century. Its work was done when +Granada fell, and as chivalry was essentially republican in its nature, +it could not live under the rule that Ferdinand substituted for the free +institutions of mediaeval Spain. What he did smile away was not chivalry +but a degrading mockery of it. + +The true nature of the "right arm" and the "bright array," before which, +according to the poet, "the world gave ground," and which Cervantes' +single laugh demolished, may be gathered from the words of one of his own +countrymen, Don Felix Pacheco, as reported by Captain George Carleton, in +his "Military Memoirs from 1672 to 1713." "Before the appearance in the +world of that labour of Cervantes," he said, "it was next to an +impossibility for a man to walk the streets with any delight or without +danger. There were seen so many cavaliers prancing and curvetting before +the windows of their mistresses, that a stranger would have imagined the +whole nation to have been nothing less than a race of knight-errants. But +after the world became a little acquainted with that notable history, the +man that was seen in that once celebrated drapery was pointed at as a Don +Quixote, and found himself the jest of high and low. And I verily believe +that to this, and this only, we owe that dampness and poverty of spirit +which has run through all our councils for a century past, so little +agreeable to those nobler actions of our famous ancestors." + +To call "Don Quixote" a sad book, preaching a pessimist view of life, +argues a total misconception of its drift. It would be so if its moral +were that, in this world, true enthusiasm naturally leads to ridicule and +discomfiture. But it preaches nothing of the sort; its moral, so far as +it can be said to have one, is that the spurious enthusiasm that is born +of vanity and self-conceit, that is made an end in itself, not a means to +an end, that acts on mere impulse, regardless of circumstances and +consequences, is mischievous to its owner, and a very considerable +nuisance to the community at large. To those who cannot distinguish +between the one kind and the other, no doubt "Don Quixote" is a sad book; +no doubt to some minds it is very sad that a man who had just uttered so +beautiful a sentiment as that "it is a hard case to make slaves of those +whom God and Nature made free," should be ungratefully pelted by the +scoundrels his crazy philanthropy had let loose on society; but to others +of a more judicial cast it will be a matter of regret that reckless +self-sufficient enthusiasm is not oftener requited in some such way for +all the mischief it does in the world. + +A very slight examination of the structure of "Don Quixote" will suffice +to show that Cervantes had no deep design or elaborate plan in his mind +when he began the book. When he wrote those lines in which "with a few +strokes of a great master he sets before us the pauper gentleman," he had +no idea of the goal to which his imagination was leading him. There can +be little doubt that all he contemplated was a short tale to range with +those he had already written, a tale setting forth the ludicrous results +that might be expected to follow the attempt of a crazy gentleman to act +the part of a knight-errant in modern life. + +It is plain, for one thing, that Sancho Panza did not enter into the +original scheme, for had Cervantes thought of him he certainly would not +have omitted him in his hero's outfit, which he obviously meant to be +complete. Him we owe to the landlord's chance remark in Chapter III that +knights seldom travelled without squires. To try to think of a Don +Quixote without Sancho Panza is like trying to think of a one-bladed pair +of scissors. + +The story was written at first, like the others, without any division and +without the intervention of Cide Hamete Benengeli; and it seems not +unlikely that Cervantes had some intention of bringing Dulcinea, or +Aldonza Lorenzo, on the scene in person. It was probably the ransacking +of the Don's library and the discussion on the books of chivalry that +first suggested it to him that his idea was capable of development. What, +if instead of a mere string of farcical misadventures, he were to make +his tale a burlesque of one of these books, caricaturing their style, +incidents, and spirit? + +In pursuance of this change of plan, he hastily and somewhat clumsily +divided what he had written into chapters on the model of "Amadis," +invented the fable of a mysterious Arabic manuscript, and set up Cide +Hamete Benengeli in imitation of the almost invariable practice of the +chivalry-romance authors, who were fond of tracing their books to some +recondite source. In working out the new ideas, he soon found the value +of Sancho Panza. Indeed, the keynote, not only to Sancho's part, but to +the whole book, is struck in the first words Sancho utters when he +announces his intention of taking his ass with him. "About the ass," we +are told, "Don Quixote hesitated a little, trying whether he could call +to mind any knight-errant taking with him an esquire mounted on ass-back; +but no instance occurred to his memory." We can see the whole scene at a +glance, the stolid unconsciousness of Sancho and the perplexity of his +master, upon whose perception the incongruity has just forced itself. +This is Sancho's mission throughout the book; he is an unconscious +Mephistopheles, always unwittingly making mockery of his master's +aspirations, always exposing the fallacy of his ideas by some +unintentional ad absurdum, always bringing him back to the world of fact +and commonplace by force of sheer stolidity. + +By the time Cervantes had got his volume of novels off his hands, and +summoned up resolution enough to set about the Second Part in earnest, +the case was very much altered. Don Quixote and Sancho Panza had not +merely found favour, but had already become, what they have never since +ceased to be, veritable entities to the popular imagination. There was no +occasion for him now to interpolate extraneous matter; nay, his readers +told him plainly that what they wanted of him was more Don Quixote and +more Sancho Panza, and not novels, tales, or digressions. To himself, +too, his creations had become realities, and he had become proud of them, +especially of Sancho. He began the Second Part, therefore, under very +different conditions, and the difference makes itself manifest at once. +Even in translation the style will be seen to be far easier, more +flowing, more natural, and more like that of a man sure of himself and of +his audience. Don Quixote and Sancho undergo a change also. In the First +Part, Don Quixote has no character or individuality whatever. He is +nothing more than a crazy representative of the sentiments of the +chivalry romances. In all that he says and does he is simply repeating +the lesson he has learned from his books; and therefore, it is absurd to +speak of him in the gushing strain of the sentimental critics when they +dilate upon his nobleness, disinterestedness, dauntless courage, and so +forth. It was the business of a knight-errant to right wrongs, redress +injuries, and succour the distressed, and this, as a matter of course, he +makes his business when he takes up the part; a knight-errant was bound +to be intrepid, and so he feels bound to cast fear aside. Of all Byron's +melodious nonsense about Don Quixote, the most nonsensical statement is +that "'t is his virtue makes him mad!" The exact opposite is the truth; +it is his madness makes him virtuous. + +In the Second Part, Cervantes repeatedly reminds the reader, as if it was +a point upon which he was anxious there should be no mistake, that his +hero's madness is strictly confined to delusions on the subject of +chivalry, and that on every other subject he is discreto, one, in fact, +whose faculty of discernment is in perfect order. The advantage of this +is that he is enabled to make use of Don Quixote as a mouthpiece for his +own reflections, and so, without seeming to digress, allow himself the +relief of digression when he requires it, as freely as in a commonplace +book. + +It is true the amount of individuality bestowed upon Don Quixote is not +very great. There are some natural touches of character about him, such +as his mixture of irascibility and placability, and his curious affection +for Sancho together with his impatience of the squire's loquacity and +impertinence; but in the main, apart from his craze, he is little more +than a thoughtful, cultured gentleman, with instinctive good taste and a +great deal of shrewdness and originality of mind. + +As to Sancho, it is plain, from the concluding words of the preface to +the First Part, that he was a favourite with his creator even before he +had been taken into favour by the public. An inferior genius, taking him +in hand a second time, would very likely have tried to improve him by +making him more comical, clever, amiable, or virtuous. But Cervantes was +too true an artist to spoil his work in this way. Sancho, when he +reappears, is the old Sancho with the old familiar features; but with a +difference; they have been brought out more distinctly, but at the same +time with a careful avoidance of anything like caricature; the outline +has been filled in where filling in was necessary, and, vivified by a few +touches of a master's hand, Sancho stands before us as he might in a +character portrait by Velazquez. He is a much more important and +prominent figure in the Second Part than in the First; indeed, it is his +matchless mendacity about Dulcinea that to a great extent supplies the +action of the story. + +His development in this respect is as remarkable as in any other. In the +First Part he displays a great natural gift of lying. His lies are not of +the highly imaginative sort that liars in fiction commonly indulge in; +like Falstaff's, they resemble the father that begets them; they are +simple, homely, plump lies; plain working lies, in short. But in the +service of such a master as Don Quixote he develops rapidly, as we see +when he comes to palm off the three country wenches as Dulcinea and her +ladies in waiting. It is worth noticing how, flushed by his success in +this instance, he is tempted afterwards to try a flight beyond his powers +in his account of the journey on Clavileno. + +In the Second Part it is the spirit rather than the incidents of the +chivalry romances that is the subject of the burlesque. Enchantments of +the sort travestied in those of Dulcinea and the Trifaldi and the cave of +Montesinos play a leading part in the later and inferior romances, and +another distinguishing feature is caricatured in Don Quixote's blind +adoration of Dulcinea. In the romances of chivalry love is either a mere +animalism or a fantastic idolatry. Only a coarse-minded man would care to +make merry with the former, but to one of Cervantes' humour the latter +was naturally an attractive subject for ridicule. Like everything else in +these romances, it is a gross exaggeration of the real sentiment of +chivalry, but its peculiar extravagance is probably due to the influence +of those masters of hyperbole, the Provencal poets. When a troubadour +professed his readiness to obey his lady in all things, he made it +incumbent upon the next comer, if he wished to avoid the imputation of +tameness and commonplace, to declare himself the slave of her will, which +the next was compelled to cap by some still stronger declaration; and so +expressions of devotion went on rising one above the other like biddings +at an auction, and a conventional language of gallantry and theory of +love came into being that in time permeated the literature of Southern +Europe, and bore fruit, in one direction in the transcendental worship of +Beatrice and Laura, and in another in the grotesque idolatry which found +exponents in writers like Feliciano de Silva. This is what Cervantes +deals with in Don Quixote's passion for Dulcinea, and in no instance has +he carried out the burlesque more happily. By keeping Dulcinea in the +background, and making her a vague shadowy being of whose very existence +we are left in doubt, he invests Don Quixote's worship of her virtues and +charms with an additional extravagance, and gives still more point to the +caricature of the sentiment and language of the romances. + +One of the great merits of "Don Quixote," and one of the qualities that +have secured its acceptance by all classes of readers and made it the +most cosmopolitan of books, is its simplicity. There are, of course, +points obvious enough to a Spanish seventeenth century audience which do +not immediately strike a reader now-a-days, and Cervantes often takes it +for granted that an allusion will be generally understood which is only +intelligible to a few. For example, on many of his readers in Spain, and +most of his readers out of it, the significance of his choice of a +country for his hero is completely lost. It would be going too far to say +that no one can thoroughly comprehend "Don Quixote" without having seen +La Mancha, but undoubtedly even a glimpse of La Mancha will give an +insight into the meaning of Cervantes such as no commentator can give. Of +all the regions of Spain it is the last that would suggest the idea of +romance. Of all the dull central plateau of the Peninsula it is the +dullest tract. There is something impressive about the grim solitudes of +Estremadura; and if the plains of Leon and Old Castile are bald and +dreary, they are studded with old cities renowned in history and rich in +relics of the past. But there is no redeeming feature in the Manchegan +landscape; it has all the sameness of the desert without its dignity; the +few towns and villages that break its monotony are mean and commonplace, +there is nothing venerable about them, they have not even the +picturesqueness of poverty; indeed, Don Quixote's own village, +Argamasilla, has a sort of oppressive respectability in the prim +regularity of its streets and houses; everything is ignoble; the very +windmills are the ugliest and shabbiest of the windmill kind. + +To anyone who knew the country well, the mere style and title of "Don +Quixote of La Mancha" gave the key to the author's meaning at once. La +Mancha as the knight's country and scene of his chivalries is of a piece +with the pasteboard helmet, the farm-labourer on ass-back for a squire, +knighthood conferred by a rascally ventero, convicts taken for victims of +oppression, and the rest of the incongruities between Don Quixote's world +and the world he lived in, between things as he saw them and things as +they were. + +It is strange that this element of incongruity, underlying the whole +humour and purpose of the book, should have been so little heeded by the +majority of those who have undertaken to interpret "Don Quixote." It has +been completely overlooked, for example, by the illustrators. To be sure, +the great majority of the artists who illustrated "Don Quixote" knew +nothing whatever of Spain. To them a venta conveyed no idea but the +abstract one of a roadside inn, and they could not therefore do full +justice to the humour of Don Quixote's misconception in taking it for a +castle, or perceive the remoteness of all its realities from his ideal. +But even when better informed they seem to have no apprehension of the +full force of the discrepancy. Take, for instance, Gustave Dore's drawing +of Don Quixote watching his armour in the inn-yard. Whether or not the +Venta de Quesada on the Seville road is, as tradition maintains, the inn +described in "Don Quixote," beyond all question it was just such an +inn-yard as the one behind it that Cervantes had in his mind's eye, and +it was on just such a rude stone trough as that beside the primitive +draw-well in the corner that he meant Don Quixote to deposit his armour. +Gustave Dore makes it an elaborate fountain such as no arriero ever +watered his mules at in the corral of any venta in Spain, and thereby +entirely misses the point aimed at by Cervantes. It is the mean, prosaic, +commonplace character of all the surroundings and circumstances that +gives a significance to Don Quixote's vigil and the ceremony that +follows. + +Cervantes' humour is for the most part of that broader and simpler sort, +the strength of which lies in the perception of the incongruous. It is +the incongruity of Sancho in all his ways, words, and works, with the +ideas and aims of his master, quite as much as the wonderful vitality and +truth to nature of the character, that makes him the most humorous +creation in the whole range of fiction. That unsmiling gravity of which +Cervantes was the first great master, "Cervantes' serious air," which +sits naturally on Swift alone, perhaps, of later humourists, is essential +to this kind of humour, and here again Cervantes has suffered at the +hands of his interpreters. Nothing, unless indeed the coarse buffoonery +of Phillips, could be more out of place in an attempt to represent +Cervantes, than a flippant, would-be facetious style, like that of +Motteux's version for example, or the sprightly, jaunty air, French +translators sometimes adopt. It is the grave matter-of-factness of the +narrative, and the apparent unconsciousness of the author that he is +saying anything ludicrous, anything but the merest commonplace, that give +its peculiar flavour to the humour of Cervantes. His, in fact, is the +exact opposite of the humour of Sterne and the self-conscious humourists. +Even when Uncle Toby is at his best, you are always aware of "the man +Sterne" behind him, watching you over his shoulder to see what effect he +is producing. Cervantes always leaves you alone with Don Quixote and +Sancho. He and Swift and the great humourists always keep themselves out +of sight, or, more properly speaking, never think about themselves at +all, unlike our latter-day school of humourists, who seem to have revived +the old horse-collar method, and try to raise a laugh by some grotesque +assumption of ignorance, imbecility, or bad taste. + +It is true that to do full justice to Spanish humour in any other +language is well-nigh an impossibility. There is a natural gravity and a +sonorous stateliness about Spanish, be it ever so colloquial, that make +an absurdity doubly absurd, and give plausibility to the most +preposterous statement. This is what makes Sancho Panza's drollery the +despair of the conscientious translator. Sancho's curt comments can never +fall flat, but they lose half their flavour when transferred from their +native Castilian into any other medium. But if foreigners have failed to +do justice to the humour of Cervantes, they are no worse than his own +countrymen. Indeed, were it not for the Spanish peasant's relish of "Don +Quixote," one might be tempted to think that the great humourist was not +looked upon as a humourist at all in his own country. + +The craze of Don Quixote seems, in some instances, to have communicated +itself to his critics, making them see things that are not in the book +and run full tilt at phantoms that have no existence save in their own +imaginations. Like a good many critics now-a-days, they forget that +screams are not criticism, and that it is only vulgar tastes that are +influenced by strings of superlatives, three-piled hyperboles, and +pompous epithets. But what strikes one as particularly strange is that +while they deal in extravagant eulogies, and ascribe all manner of +imaginary ideas and qualities to Cervantes, they show no perception of +the quality that ninety-nine out of a hundred of his readers would rate +highest in him, and hold to be the one that raises him above all rivalry. + +To speak of "Don Quixote" as if it were merely a humorous book would be a +manifest misdescription. Cervantes at times makes it a kind of +commonplace book for occasional essays and criticisms, or for the +observations and reflections and gathered wisdom of a long and stirring +life. It is a mine of shrewd observation on mankind and human nature. +Among modern novels there may be, here and there, more elaborate studies +of character, but there is no book richer in individualised character. +What Coleridge said of Shakespeare in minimis is true of Cervantes; he +never, even for the most temporary purpose, puts forward a lay figure. +There is life and individuality in all his characters, however little +they may have to do, or however short a time they may be before the +reader. Samson Carrasco, the curate, Teresa Panza, Altisidora, even the +two students met on the road to the cave of Montesinos, all live and move +and have their being; and it is characteristic of the broad humanity of +Cervantes that there is not a hateful one among them all. Even poor +Maritornes, with her deplorable morals, has a kind heart of her own and +"some faint and distant resemblance to a Christian about her;" and as for +Sancho, though on dissection we fail to find a lovable trait in him, +unless it be a sort of dog-like affection for his master, who is there +that in his heart does not love him? + +But it is, after all, the humour of "Don Quixote" that distinguishes it +from all other books of the romance kind. It is this that makes it, as +one of the most judicial-minded of modern critics calls it, "the best +novel in the world beyond all comparison." It is its varied humour, +ranging from broad farce to comedy as subtle as Shakespeare's or +Moliere's that has naturalised it in every country where there are +readers, and made it a classic in every language that has a literature. + +!_ Some Commendatory Verses + +!_ Urganda the Unknown + +poem{ + +To the book of Don Quixote of la Mancha + + If to be welcomed by the good, + O Book! thou make thy steady aim, + No empty chatterer will dare + To question or dispute thy claim. + But if perchance thou hast a mind + To win of idiots approbation, + Lost labour will be thy reward, + Though they'll pretend appreciation. + + They say a goodly shade he finds + Who shelters 'neath a goodly tree; + And such a one thy kindly star + In Bejar bath provided thee: + A royal tree whose spreading boughs + A show of princely fruit display; + A tree that bears a noble Duke, + The Alexander of his day. + + Of a Manchegan gentleman + Thy purpose is to tell the story, + Relating how he lost his wits + O'er idle tales of love and glory, + Of "ladies, arms, and cavaliers:" + A new Orlando Furioso- + Innamorato, rather--who + Won Dulcinea del Toboso. + + Put no vain emblems on thy shield; + All figures--that is bragging play. + A modest dedication make, + And give no scoffer room to say, + "What! Alvaro de Luna here? + Or is it Hannibal again? + Or does King Francis at Madrid + Once more of destiny complain?" + + Since Heaven it hath not pleased on thee + Deep erudition to bestow, + Or black Latino's gift of tongues, + No Latin let thy pages show. + Ape not philosophy or wit, + Lest one who cannot comprehend, + Make a wry face at thee and ask, + "Why offer flowers to me, my friend?" + + Be not a meddler; no affair + Of thine the life thy neighbours lead: + Be prudent; oft the random jest + Recoils upon the jester's head. + Thy constant labour let it be + To earn thyself an honest name, + For fooleries preserved in print + Are perpetuity of shame. + + A further counsel bear in mind: + If that thy roof be made of glass, + It shows small wit to pick up stones + To pelt the people as they pass. + Win the attention of the wise, + And give the thinker food for thought; + Whoso indites frivolities, + Will but by simpletons be sought. + +}poem + +!_ Amadis of Gaul + +poem{ + +To Don Quixote of la Mancha + +SONNET + + Thou that didst imitate that life of mine + When I in lonely sadness on the great + Rock Pena Pobre sat disconsolate, + In self-imposed penance there to pine; + Thou, whose sole beverage was the bitter brine + Of thine own tears, and who withouten plate + Of silver, copper, tin, in lowly state + Off the bare earth and on earth's fruits didst dine; + Live thou, of thine eternal glory sure. + So long as on the round of the fourth sphere + The bright Apollo shall his coursers steer, + In thy renown thou shalt remain secure, + Thy country's name in story shall endure, + And thy sage author stand without a peer. + +}poem + +!_ Don Belianis of Greece + +poem{ + +To Don Quixote of la Mancha + +SONNET + + In slashing, hewing, cleaving, word and deed, + I was the foremost knight of chivalry, + Stout, bold, expert, as e'er the world did see; + Thousands from the oppressor's wrong I freed; + Great were my feats, eternal fame their meed; + In love I proved my truth and loyalty; + The hugest giant was a dwarf for me; + Ever to knighthood's laws gave I good heed. + My mastery the Fickle Goddess owned, + And even Chance, submitting to control, + Grasped by the forelock, yielded to my will. + Yet--though above yon horned moon enthroned + My fortune seems to sit--great Quixote, still + Envy of thy achievements fills my soul. + +}poem + +!_ The Lady of Oriana + +poem{ + +To Dulcinea del Toboso + +SONNET + + Oh, fairest Dulcinea, could it be! + It were a pleasant fancy to suppose so-- + Could Miraflores change to El Toboso, + And London's town to that which shelters thee! + Oh, could mine but acquire that livery + Of countless charms thy mind and body show so! + Or him, now famous grown--thou mad'st him grow so-- + Thy knight, in some dread combat could I see! + Oh, could I be released from Amadis + By exercise of such coy chastity + As led thee gentle Quixote to dismiss! + Then would my heavy sorrow turn to joy; + None would I envy, all would envy me, + And happiness be mine without alloy. + +}poem + +!_ Gandalin, Squire of Amadis of Gaul, + +poem{ + +To Sancho Panza, squire of Don Quixote + +SONNET + + All hail, illustrious man! Fortune, when she + Bound thee apprentice to the esquire trade, + Her care and tenderness of thee displayed, + Shaping thy course from misadventure free. + No longer now doth proud knight-errantry + Regard with scorn the sickle and the spade; + Of towering arrogance less count is made + Than of plain esquire-like simplicity. + I envy thee thy Dapple, and thy name, + And those alforjas thou wast wont to stuff + With comforts that thy providence proclaim. + Excellent Sancho! hail to thee again! + To thee alone the Ovid of our Spain + Does homage with the rustic kiss and cuff. + +}poem + +!_ From el Donoso, the Motley Poet, + +poem{ + +On Sancho Panza and Rocinante + +ON SANCHO + +I am the esquire Sancho Pan-- +Who served Don Quixote of La Man--; +But from his service I retreat-, +Resolved to pass my life discreet-; +For Villadiego, called the Si--, +Maintained that only in reti-- +Was found the secret of well-be--, +According to the "Celesti--:" +A book divine, except for sin-- +By speech too plain, in my opin-- + +ON ROCINANTE + +I am that Rocinante fa--, +Great-grandson of great Babie--, +Who, all for being lean and bon--, +Had one Don Quixote for an own--; +But if I matched him well in weak--, +I never took short commons meek--, +But kept myself in corn by steal--, +A trick I learned from Lazaril--, +When with a piece of straw so neat-- +The blind man of his wine he cheat--. + +}poem + +!_ Orlando Furioso + +poem{ + +To Don Quixote of La Mancha + +SONNET + + If thou art not a Peer, peer thou hast none; + Among a thousand Peers thou art a peer; + Nor is there room for one when thou art near, + Unvanquished victor, great unconquered one! + Orlando, by Angelica undone, + Am I; o'er distant seas condemned to steer, + And to Fame's altars as an offering bear + Valour respected by Oblivion. + I cannot be thy rival, for thy fame + And prowess rise above all rivalry, + Albeit both bereft of wits we go. + But, though the Scythian or the Moor to tame + Was not thy lot, still thou dost rival me: + Love binds us in a fellowship of woe. + +}poem + +!_ The Knight of Phoebus + +poem{ + +To Don Quixote of La Mancha + + My sword was not to be compared with thine + Phoebus of Spain, marvel of courtesy, + Nor with thy famous arm this hand of mine + That smote from east to west as lightnings fly. + I scorned all empire, and that monarchy + The rosy east held out did I resign + For one glance of Claridiana's eye, + The bright Aurora for whose love I pine. + A miracle of constancy my love; + And banished by her ruthless cruelty, + This arm had might the rage of Hell to tame. + But, Gothic Quixote, happier thou dost prove, + For thou dost live in Dulcinea's name, + And famous, honoured, wise, she lives in thee. + +}poem + +!_ From Solisdan + +poem{ + +To Don Quixote of La Mancha + +SONNET + + Your fantasies, Sir Quixote, it is true, + That crazy brain of yours have quite upset, + But aught of base or mean hath never yet + Been charged by any in reproach to you. + Your deeds are open proof in all men's view; + For you went forth injustice to abate, + And for your pains sore drubbings did you get + From many a rascally and ruffian crew. + If the fair Dulcinea, your heart's queen, + Be unrelenting in her cruelty, + If still your woe be powerless to move her, + In such hard case your comfort let it be + That Sancho was a sorry go-between: + A booby he, hard-hearted she, and you no lover. + +}poem + +!_ Dialogue + +poem{ + +Between Babieca and Rocinante + +SONNET + +B. "How comes it, Rocinante, you're so lean?" +R. "I'm underfed, with overwork I'm worn." +B. "But what becomes of all the hay and corn?" +R. "My master gives me none; he's much too mean." +B. "Come, come, you show ill-breeding, sir, I ween; + 'T is like an ass your master thus to scorn." +R. He is an ass, will die an ass, an ass was born; + Why, he's in love; what's what's plainer to be seen?" +B. "To be in love is folly?"--R. "No great sense." +B. "You're metaphysical."--R. "From want of food." +B. "Rail at the squire, then."--R. "Why, what's the good? + I might indeed complain of him, I grant ye, + But, squire or master, where's the difference? + They're both as sorry hacks as Rocinante." + +}poem + +1~ The Author's Preface + +Idle reader: thou mayest believe me without any oath that I would this +book, as it is the child of my brain, were the fairest, gayest, and +cleverest that could be imagined. But I could not counteract Nature's law +that everything shall beget its like; and what, then, could this sterile, +illtilled wit of mine beget but the story of a dry, shrivelled, whimsical +offspring, full of thoughts of all sorts and such as never came into any +other imagination--just what might be begotten in a prison, where every +misery is lodged and every doleful sound makes its dwelling? +Tranquillity, a cheerful retreat, pleasant fields, bright skies, +murmuring brooks, peace of mind, these are the things that go far to make +even the most barren muses fertile, and bring into the world births that +fill it with wonder and delight. Sometimes when a father has an ugly, +loutish son, the love he bears him so blindfolds his eyes that he does +not see his defects, or, rather, takes them for gifts and charms of mind +and body, and talks of them to his friends as wit and grace. I, +however--for though I pass for the father, I am but the stepfather to +"Don Quixote"--have no desire to go with the current of custom, or to +implore thee, dearest reader, almost with tears in my eyes, as others do, +to pardon or excuse the defects thou wilt perceive in this child of mine. +Thou art neither its kinsman nor its friend, thy soul is thine own and +thy will as free as any man's, whate'er he be, thou art in thine own +house and master of it as much as the king of his taxes and thou knowest +the common saying, "Under my cloak I kill the king;" all which exempts +and frees thee from every consideration and obligation, and thou canst +say what thou wilt of the story without fear of being abused for any ill +or rewarded for any good thou mayest say of it. + +My wish would be simply to present it to thee plain and unadorned, +without any embellishment of preface or uncountable muster of customary +sonnets, epigrams, and eulogies, such as are commonly put at the +beginning of books. For I can tell thee, though composing it cost me some +labour, I found none greater than the making of this Preface thou art now +reading. Many times did I take up my pen to write it, and many did I lay +it down again, not knowing what to write. One of these times, as I was +pondering with the paper before me, a pen in my ear, my elbow on the +desk, and my cheek in my hand, thinking of what I should say, there came +in unexpectedly a certain lively, clever friend of mine, who, seeing me +so deep in thought, asked the reason; to which I, making no mystery of +it, answered that I was thinking of the Preface I had to make for the +story of "Don Quixote," which so troubled me that I had a mind not to +make any at all, nor even publish the achievements of so noble a knight. + +"For, how could you expect me not to feel uneasy about what that ancient +lawgiver they call the Public will say when it sees me, after slumbering +so many years in the silence of oblivion, coming out now with all my +years upon my back, and with a book as dry as a rush, devoid of +invention, meagre in style, poor in thoughts, wholly wanting in learning +and wisdom, without quotations in the margin or annotations at the end, +after the fashion of other books I see, which, though all fables and +profanity, are so full of maxims from Aristotle, and Plato, and the whole +herd of philosophers, that they fill the readers with amazement and +convince them that the authors are men of learning, erudition, and +eloquence. And then, when they quote the Holy Scriptures!--anyone would +say they are St. Thomases or other doctors of the Church, observing as +they do a decorum so ingenious that in one sentence they describe a +distracted lover and in the next deliver a devout little sermon that it +is a pleasure and a treat to hear and read. Of all this there will be +nothing in my book, for I have nothing to quote in the margin or to note +at the end, and still less do I know what authors I follow in it, to +place them at the beginning, as all do, under the letters A, B, C, +beginning with Aristotle and ending with Xenophon, or Zoilus, or Zeuxis, +though one was a slanderer and the other a painter. Also my book must do +without sonnets at the beginning, at least sonnets whose authors are +dukes, marquises, counts, bishops, ladies, or famous poets. Though if I +were to ask two or three obliging friends, I know they would give me +them, and such as the productions of those that have the highest +reputation in our Spain could not equal. + +"In short, my friend," I continued, "I am determined that Senor Don +Quixote shall remain buried in the archives of his own La Mancha until +Heaven provide some one to garnish him with all those things he stands in +need of; because I find myself, through my shallowness and want of +learning, unequal to supplying them, and because I am by nature shy and +careless about hunting for authors to say what I myself can say without +them. Hence the cogitation and abstraction you found me in, and reason +enough, what you have heard from me." + +Hearing this, my friend, giving himself a slap on the forehead and +breaking into a hearty laugh, exclaimed, "Before God, Brother, now am I +disabused of an error in which I have been living all this long time I +have known you, all through which I have taken you to be shrewd and +sensible in all you do; but now I see you are as far from that as the +heaven is from the earth. It is possible that things of so little moment +and so easy to set right can occupy and perplex a ripe wit like yours, +fit to break through and crush far greater obstacles? By my faith, this +comes, not of any want of ability, but of too much indolence and too +little knowledge of life. Do you want to know if I am telling the truth? +Well, then, attend to me, and you will see how, in the opening and +shutting of an eye, I sweep away all your difficulties, and supply all +those deficiencies which you say check and discourage you from bringing +before the world the story of your famous Don Quixote, the light and +mirror of all knight-errantry." + +"Say on," said I, listening to his talk; "how do you propose to make up +for my diffidence, and reduce to order this chaos of perplexity I am in?" + +To which he made answer, "Your first difficulty about the sonnets, +epigrams, or complimentary verses which you want for the beginning, and +which ought to be by persons of importance and rank, can be removed if +you yourself take a little trouble to make them; you can afterwards +baptise them, and put any name you like to them, fathering them on +Prester John of the Indies or the Emperor of Trebizond, who, to my +knowledge, were said to have been famous poets: and even if they were +not, and any pedants or bachelors should attack you and question the +fact, never care two maravedis for that, for even if they prove a lie +against you they cannot cut off the hand you wrote it with. + +"As to references in the margin to the books and authors from whom you +take the aphorisms and sayings you put into your story, it is only +contriving to fit in nicely any sentences or scraps of Latin you may +happen to have by heart, or at any rate that will not give you much +trouble to look up; so as, when you speak of freedom and captivity, to +insert + +_Non bene pro toto libertas venditur auro;_ + +and then refer in the margin to Horace, or whoever said it; or, if you +allude to the power of death, to come in with-- + +_Pallida mors Aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas, +Regumque turres._ + +"If it be friendship and the love God bids us bear to our enemy, go at +once to the Holy Scriptures, which you can do with a very small amount of +research, and quote no less than the words of God himself: Ego autem dico +vobis: diligite inimicos vestros. If you speak of evil thoughts, turn to +the Gospel: De corde exeunt cogitationes malae. If of the fickleness of +friends, there is Cato, who will give you his distich: + +_Donec eris felix multos numerabis amicos, +Tempora si fuerint nubila, solus eris._ + +"With these and such like bits of Latin they will take you for a +grammarian at all events, and that now-a-days is no small honour and +profit. + +"With regard to adding annotations at the end of the book, you may safely +do it in this way. If you mention any giant in your book contrive that it +shall be the giant Goliath, and with this alone, which will cost you +almost nothing, you have a grand note, for you can put--The giant Golias +or Goliath was a Philistine whom the shepherd David slew by a mighty +stone-cast in the Terebinth valley, as is related in the Book of +Kings--in the chapter where you find it written. + +"Next, to prove yourself a man of erudition in polite literature and +cosmography, manage that the river Tagus shall be named in your story, +and there you are at once with another famous annotation, setting +forth--The river Tagus was so called after a King of Spain: it has its +source in such and such a place and falls into the ocean, kissing the +walls of the famous city of Lisbon, and it is a common belief that it has +golden sands, etc. If you should have anything to do with robbers, I will +give you the story of Cacus, for I have it by heart; if with loose women, +there is the Bishop of Mondonedo, who will give you the loan of Lamia, +Laida, and Flora, any reference to whom will bring you great credit; if +with hard-hearted ones, Ovid will furnish you with Medea; if with witches +or enchantresses, Homer has Calypso, and Virgil Circe; if with valiant +captains, Julius Caesar himself will lend you himself in his own +'Commentaries,' and Plutarch will give you a thousand Alexanders. If you +should deal with love, with two ounces you may know of Tuscan you can go +to Leon the Hebrew, who will supply you to your heart's content; or if +you should not care to go to foreign countries you have at home Fonseca's +'Of the Love of God,' in which is condensed all that you or the most +imaginative mind can want on the subject. In short, all you have to do is +to manage to quote these names, or refer to these stories I have +mentioned, and leave it to me to insert the annotations and quotations, +and I swear by all that's good to fill your margins and use up four +sheets at the end of the book. + +"Now let us come to those references to authors which other books have, +and you want for yours. The remedy for this is very simple: You have only +to look out for some book that quotes them all, from A to Z as you say +yourself, and then insert the very same alphabet in your book, and though +the imposition may be plain to see, because you have so little need to +borrow from them, that is no matter; there will probably be some simple +enough to believe that you have made use of them all in this plain, +artless story of yours. At any rate, if it answers no other purpose, this +long catalogue of authors will serve to give a surprising look of +authority to your book. Besides, no one will trouble himself to verify +whether you have followed them or whether you have not, being no way +concerned in it; especially as, if I mistake not, this book of yours has +no need of any one of those things you say it wants, for it is, from +beginning to end, an attack upon the books of chivalry, of which +Aristotle never dreamt, nor St. Basil said a word, nor Cicero had any +knowledge; nor do the niceties of truth nor the observations of astrology +come within the range of its fanciful vagaries; nor have geometrical +measurements or refutations of the arguments used in rhetoric anything to +do with it; nor does it mean to preach to anybody, mixing up things human +and divine, a sort of motley in which no Christian understanding should +dress itself. It has only to avail itself of truth to nature in its +composition, and the more perfect the imitation the better the work will +be. And as this piece of yours aims at nothing more than to destroy the +authority and influence which books of chivalry have in the world and +with the public, there is no need for you to go a-begging for aphorisms +from philosophers, precepts from Holy Scripture, fables from poets, +speeches from orators, or miracles from saints; but merely to take care +that your style and diction run musically, pleasantly, and plainly, with +clear, proper, and well-placed words, setting forth your purpose to the +best of your power, and putting your ideas intelligibly, without +confusion or obscurity. Strive, too, that in reading your story the +melancholy may be moved to laughter, and the merry made merrier still; +that the simple shall not be wearied, that the judicious shall admire the +invention, that the grave shall not despise it, nor the wise fail to +praise it. Finally, keep your aim fixed on the destruction of that +ill-founded edifice of the books of chivalry, hated by some and praised +by many more; for if you succeed in this you will have achieved no small +success." + +In profound silence I listened to what my friend said, and his +observations made such an impression on me that, without attempting to +question them, I admitted their soundness, and out of them I determined +to make this Preface; wherein, gentle reader, thou wilt perceive my +friend's good sense, my good fortune in finding such an adviser in such a +time of need, and what thou hast gained in receiving, without addition or +alteration, the story of the famous Don Quixote of La Mancha, who is held +by all the inhabitants of the district of the Campo de Montiel to have +been the chastest lover and the bravest knight that has for many years +been seen in that neighbourhood. I have no desire to magnify the service +I render thee in making thee acquainted with so renowned and honoured a +knight, but I do desire thy thanks for the acquaintance thou wilt make +with the famous Sancho Panza, his squire, in whom, to my thinking, I have +given thee condensed all the squirely drolleries that are scattered +through the swarm of the vain books of chivalry. And so--may God give +thee health, and not forget me. Vale. + +1~ Dedication of Volume I + +TO THE DUKE OF BEJAR, MARQUIS OF GIBRALEON, COUNT OF BENALCAZAR AND +BANARES, VICECOUNT OF THE PUEBLA DE ALCOCER, MASTER OF THE TOWNS OF +CAPILLA, CURIEL AND BURGUILLOS + +In belief of the good reception and honours that Your Excellency bestows +on all sort of books, as prince so inclined to favor good arts, chiefly +those who by their nobleness do not submit to the service and bribery of +the vulgar, I have determined bringing to light The Ingenious Gentleman +Don Quixote of la Mancha, in shelter of Your Excellency's glamorous name, +to whom, with the obeisance I owe to such grandeur, I pray to receive it +agreeably under his protection, so that in this shadow, though deprived +of that precious ornament of elegance and erudition that clothe the works +composed in the houses of those who know, it dares appear with assurance +in the judgment of some who, trespassing the bounds of their own +ignorance, use to condemn with more rigour and less justice the writings +of others. It is my earnest hope that Your Excellency's good counsel in +regard to my honourable purpose, will not disdain the littleness of so +humble a service. + +Miguel de Cervantes + +VOLUME I. + +Chapter I. - +Which treats of the character and pursuits of the famous gentleman Don +Quixote of La Mancha + +In a village of La Mancha, the name of which I have no desire to call to +mind, there lived not long since one of those gentlemen that keep a lance +in the lance-rack, an old buckler, a lean hack, and a greyhound for +coursing. An olla of rather more beef than mutton, a salad on most +nights, scraps on Saturdays, lentils on Fridays, and a pigeon or so extra +on Sundays, made away with three-quarters of his income. The rest of it +went in a doublet of fine cloth and velvet breeches and shoes to match +for holidays, while on week-days he made a brave figure in his best +homespun. He had in his house a housekeeper past forty, a niece under +twenty, and a lad for the field and market-place, who used to saddle the +hack as well as handle the bill-hook. The age of this gentleman of ours +was bordering on fifty; he was of a hardy habit, spare, gaunt-featured, a +very early riser and a great sportsman. They will have it his surname was +Quixada or Quesada (for here there is some difference of opinion among +the authors who write on the subject), although from reasonable +conjectures it seems plain that he was called Quexana. This, however, is +of but little importance to our tale; it will be enough not to stray a +hair's breadth from the truth in the telling of it. + +You must know, then, that the above-named gentleman whenever he was at +leisure (which was mostly all the year round) gave himself up to reading +books of chivalry with such ardour and avidity that he almost entirely +neglected the pursuit of his field-sports, and even the management of his +property; and to such a pitch did his eagerness and infatuation go that +he sold many an acre of tillageland to buy books of chivalry to read, and +brought home as many of them as he could get. But of all there were none +he liked so well as those of the famous Feliciano de Silva's composition, +for their lucidity of style and complicated conceits were as pearls in +his sight, particularly when in his reading he came upon courtships and +cartels, where he often found passages like "the reason of the unreason +with which my reason is afflicted so weakens my reason that with reason I +murmur at your beauty;" or again, "the high heavens, that of your +divinity divinely fortify you with the stars, render you deserving of the +desert your greatness deserves." Over conceits of this sort the poor +gentleman lost his wits, and used to lie awake striving to understand +them and worm the meaning out of them; what Aristotle himself could not +have made out or extracted had he come to life again for that special +purpose. He was not at all easy about the wounds which Don Belianis gave +and took, because it seemed to him that, great as were the surgeons who +had cured him, he must have had his face and body covered all over with +seams and scars. He commended, however, the author's way of ending his +book with the promise of that interminable adventure, and many a time was +he tempted to take up his pen and finish it properly as is there +proposed, which no doubt he would have done, and made a successful piece +of work of it too, had not greater and more absorbing thoughts prevented +him. + +Many an argument did he have with the curate of his village (a learned +man, and a graduate of Siguenza) as to which had been the better knight, +Palmerin of England or Amadis of Gaul. Master Nicholas, the village +barber, however, used to say that neither of them came up to the Knight +of Phoebus, and that if there was any that could compare with him it was +Don Galaor, the brother of Amadis of Gaul, because he had a spirit that +was equal to every occasion, and was no finikin knight, nor lachrymose +like his brother, while in the matter of valour he was not a whit behind +him. In short, he became so absorbed in his books that he spent his +nights from sunset to sunrise, and his days from dawn to dark, poring +over them; and what with little sleep and much reading his brains got so +dry that he lost his wits. His fancy grew full of what he used to read +about in his books, enchantments, quarrels, battles, challenges, wounds, +wooings, loves, agonies, and all sorts of impossible nonsense; and it so +possessed his mind that the whole fabric of invention and fancy he read +of was true, that to him no history in the world had more reality in it. +He used to say the Cid Ruy Diaz was a very good knight, but that he was +not to be compared with the Knight of the Burning Sword who with one +back-stroke cut in half two fierce and monstrous giants. He thought more +of Bernardo del Carpio because at Roncesvalles he slew Roland in spite of +enchantments, availing himself of the artifice of Hercules when he +strangled Antaeus the son of Terra in his arms. He approved highly of the +giant Morgante, because, although of the giant breed which is always +arrogant and ill-conditioned, he alone was affable and well-bred. But +above all he admired Reinaldos of Montalban, especially when he saw him +sallying forth from his castle and robbing everyone he met, and when +beyond the seas he stole that image of Mahomet which, as his history +says, was entirely of gold. To have a bout of kicking at that traitor of +a Ganelon he would have given his housekeeper, and his niece into the +bargain. + +In short, his wits being quite gone, he hit upon the strangest notion +that ever madman in this world hit upon, and that was that he fancied it +was right and requisite, as well for the support of his own honour as for +the service of his country, that he should make a knight-errant of +himself, roaming the world over in full armour and on horseback in quest +of adventures, and putting in practice himself all that he had read of as +being the usual practices of knights-errant; righting every kind of +wrong, and exposing himself to peril and danger from which, in the issue, +he was to reap eternal renown and fame. Already the poor man saw himself +crowned by the might of his arm Emperor of Trebizond at least; and so, +led away by the intense enjoyment he found in these pleasant fancies, he +set himself forthwith to put his scheme into execution. + +The first thing he did was to clean up some armour that had belonged to +his great-grandfather, and had been for ages lying forgotten in a corner +eaten with rust and covered with mildew. He scoured and polished it as +best he could, but he perceived one great defect in it, that it had no +closed helmet, nothing but a simple morion. This deficiency, however, his +ingenuity supplied, for he contrived a kind of half-helmet of pasteboard +which, fitted on to the morion, looked like a whole one. It is true that, +in order to see if it was strong and fit to stand a cut, he drew his +sword and gave it a couple of slashes, the first of which undid in an +instant what had taken him a week to do. The ease with which he had +knocked it to pieces disconcerted him somewhat, and to guard against that +danger he set to work again, fixing bars of iron on the inside until he +was satisfied with its strength; and then, not caring to try any more +experiments with it, he passed it and adopted it as a helmet of the most +perfect construction. + +He next proceeded to inspect his hack, which, with more quartos than a +real and more blemishes than the steed of Gonela, that "tantum pellis et +ossa fuit," surpassed in his eyes the Bucephalus of Alexander or the +Babieca of the Cid. Four days were spent in thinking what name to give +him, because (as he said to himself) it was not right that a horse +belonging to a knight so famous, and one with such merits of his own, +should be without some distinctive name, and he strove to adapt it so as +to indicate what he had been before belonging to a knight-errant, and +what he then was; for it was only reasonable that, his master taking a +new character, he should take a new name, and that it should be a +distinguished and full-sounding one, befitting the new order and calling +he was about to follow. And so, after having composed, struck out, +rejected, added to, unmade, and remade a multitude of names out of his +memory and fancy, he decided upon calling him Rocinante, a name, to his +thinking, lofty, sonorous, and significant of his condition as a hack +before he became what he now was, the first and foremost of all the hacks +in the world. + +Having got a name for his horse so much to his taste, he was anxious to +get one for himself, and he was eight days more pondering over this +point, till at last he made up his mind to call himself "Don Quixote," +whence, as has been already said, the authors of this veracious history +have inferred that his name must have been beyond a doubt Quixada, and +not Quesada as others would have it. Recollecting, however, that the +valiant Amadis was not content to call himself curtly Amadis and nothing +more, but added the name of his kingdom and country to make it famous, +and called himself Amadis of Gaul, he, like a good knight, resolved to +add on the name of his, and to style himself Don Quixote of La Mancha, +whereby, he considered, he described accurately his origin and country, +and did honour to it in taking his surname from it. + +So then, his armour being furbished, his morion turned into a helmet, his +hack christened, and he himself confirmed, he came to the conclusion that +nothing more was needed now but to look out for a lady to be in love +with; for a knight-errant without love was like a tree without leaves or +fruit, or a body without a soul. As he said to himself, "If, for my sins, +or by my good fortune, I come across some giant hereabouts, a common +occurrence with knights-errant, and overthrow him in one onslaught, or +cleave him asunder to the waist, or, in short, vanquish and subdue him, +will it not be well to have some one I may send him to as a present, that +he may come in and fall on his knees before my sweet lady, and in a +humble, submissive voice say, 'I am the giant Caraculiambro, lord of the +island of Malindrania, vanquished in single combat by the never +sufficiently extolled knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, who has commanded +me to present myself before your Grace, that your Highness dispose of me +at your pleasure'?" Oh, how our good gentleman enjoyed the delivery of +this speech, especially when he had thought of some one to call his Lady! +There was, so the story goes, in a village near his own a very +good-looking farm-girl with whom he had been at one time in love, though, +so far as is known, she never knew it nor gave a thought to the matter. +Her name was Aldonza Lorenzo, and upon her he thought fit to confer the +title of Lady of his Thoughts; and after some search for a name which +should not be out of harmony with her own, and should suggest and +indicate that of a princess and great lady, he decided upon calling her +Dulcinea del Toboso--she being of El Toboso--a name, to his mind, +musical, uncommon, and significant, like all those he had already +bestowed upon himself and the things belonging to him. + +Chapter II. - +Which Treats of the first sally the ingenious Don Quixote made from home + +These preliminaries settled, he did not care to put off any longer the +execution of his design, urged on to it by the thought of all the world +was losing by his delay, seeing what wrongs he intended to right, +grievances to redress, injustices to repair, abuses to remove, and duties +to discharge. So, without giving notice of his intention to anyone, and +without anybody seeing him, one morning before the dawning of the day +(which was one of the hottest of the month of July) he donned his suit of +armour, mounted Rocinante with his patched-up helmet on, braced his +buckler, took his lance, and by the back door of the yard sallied forth +upon the plain in the highest contentment and satisfaction at seeing with +what ease he had made a beginning with his grand purpose. But scarcely +did he find himself upon the open plain, when a terrible thought struck +him, one all but enough to make him abandon the enterprise at the very +outset. It occurred to him that he had not been dubbed a knight, and that +according to the law of chivalry he neither could nor ought to bear arms +against any knight; and that even if he had been, still he ought, as a +novice knight, to wear white armour, without a device upon the shield +until by his prowess he had earned one. These reflections made him waver +in his purpose, but his craze being stronger than any reasoning, he made +up his mind to have himself dubbed a knight by the first one he came +across, following the example of others in the same case, as he had read +in the books that brought him to this pass. As for white armour, he +resolved, on the first opportunity, to scour his until it was whiter than +an ermine; and so comforting himself he pursued his way, taking that +which his horse chose, for in this he believed lay the essence of +adventures. + +Thus setting out, our new-fledged adventurer paced along, talking to +himself and saying, "Who knows but that in time to come, when the +veracious history of my famous deeds is made known, the sage who writes +it, when he has to set forth my first sally in the early morning, will do +it after this fashion? 'Scarce had the rubicund Apollo spread o'er the +face of the broad spacious earth the golden threads of his bright hair, +scarce had the little birds of painted plumage attuned their notes to +hail with dulcet and mellifluous harmony the coming of the rosy Dawn, +that, deserting the soft couch of her jealous spouse, was appearing to +mortals at the gates and balconies of the Manchegan horizon, when the +renowned knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, quitting the lazy down, mounted +his celebrated steed Rocinante and began to traverse the ancient and +famous Campo de Montiel;'" which in fact he was actually traversing. +"Happy the age, happy the time," he continued, "in which shall be made +known my deeds of fame, worthy to be moulded in brass, carved in marble, +limned in pictures, for a memorial for ever. And thou, O sage magician, +whoever thou art, to whom it shall fall to be the chronicler of this +wondrous history, forget not, I entreat thee, my good Rocinante, the +constant companion of my ways and wanderings." Presently he broke out +again, as if he were love-stricken in earnest, "O Princess Dulcinea, lady +of this captive heart, a grievous wrong hast thou done me to drive me +forth with scorn, and with inexorable obduracy banish me from the +presence of thy beauty. O lady, deign to hold in remembrance this heart, +thy vassal, that thus in anguish pines for love of thee." + +So he went on stringing together these and other absurdities, all in the +style of those his books had taught him, imitating their language as well +as he could; and all the while he rode so slowly and the sun mounted so +rapidly and with such fervour that it was enough to melt his brains if he +had any. Nearly all day he travelled without anything remarkable +happening to him, at which he was in despair, for he was anxious to +encounter some one at once upon whom to try the might of his strong arm. + +Writers there are who say the first adventure he met with was that of +Puerto Lapice; others say it was that of the windmills; but what I have +ascertained on this point, and what I have found written in the annals of +La Mancha, is that he was on the road all day, and towards nightfall his +hack and he found themselves dead tired and hungry, when, looking all +around to see if he could discover any castle or shepherd's shanty where +he might refresh himself and relieve his sore wants, he perceived not far +out of his road an inn, which was as welcome as a star guiding him to the +portals, if not the palaces, of his redemption; and quickening his pace +he reached it just as night was setting in. At the door were standing two +young women, girls of the district as they call them, on their way to +Seville with some carriers who had chanced to halt that night at the inn; +and as, happen what might to our adventurer, everything he saw or imaged +seemed to him to be and to happen after the fashion of what he read of, +the moment he saw the inn he pictured it to himself as a castle with its +four turrets and pinnacles of shining silver, not forgetting the +drawbridge and moat and all the belongings usually ascribed to castles of +the sort. To this inn, which to him seemed a castle, he advanced, and at +a short distance from it he checked Rocinante, hoping that some dwarf +would show himself upon the battlements, and by sound of trumpet give +notice that a knight was approaching the castle. But seeing that they +were slow about it, and that Rocinante was in a hurry to reach the +stable, he made for the inn door, and perceived the two gay damsels who +were standing there, and who seemed to him to be two fair maidens or +lovely ladies taking their ease at the castle gate. + +At this moment it so happened that a swineherd who was going through the +stubbles collecting a drove of pigs (for, without any apology, that is +what they are called) gave a blast of his horn to bring them together, +and forthwith it seemed to Don Quixote to be what he was expecting, the +signal of some dwarf announcing his arrival; and so with prodigious +satisfaction he rode up to the inn and to the ladies, who, seeing a man +of this sort approaching in full armour and with lance and buckler, were +turning in dismay into the inn, when Don Quixote, guessing their fear by +their flight, raising his pasteboard visor, disclosed his dry dusty +visage, and with courteous bearing and gentle voice addressed them, "Your +ladyships need not fly or fear any rudeness, for that it belongs not to +the order of knighthood which I profess to offer to anyone, much less to +highborn maidens as your appearance proclaims you to be." The girls were +looking at him and straining their eyes to make out the features which +the clumsy visor obscured, but when they heard themselves called maidens, +a thing so much out of their line, they could not restrain their +laughter, which made Don Quixote wax indignant, and say, "Modesty becomes +the fair, and moreover laughter that has little cause is great silliness; +this, however, I say not to pain or anger you, for my desire is none +other than to serve you." + +The incomprehensible language and the unpromising looks of our cavalier +only increased the ladies' laughter, and that increased his irritation, +and matters might have gone farther if at that moment the landlord had +not come out, who, being a very fat man, was a very peaceful one. He, +seeing this grotesque figure clad in armour that did not match any more +than his saddle, bridle, lance, buckler, or corselet, was not at all +indisposed to join the damsels in their manifestations of amusement; but, +in truth, standing in awe of such a complicated armament, he thought it +best to speak him fairly, so he said, "Senor Caballero, if your worship +wants lodging, bating the bed (for there is not one in the inn) there is +plenty of everything else here." Don Quixote, observing the respectful +bearing of the Alcaide of the fortress (for so innkeeper and inn seemed +in his eyes), made answer, "Sir Castellan, for me anything will suffice, +for + +poem{ + +'My armour is my only wear, +My only rest the fray.'" + +}poem + +The host fancied he called him Castellan because he took him for a +"worthy of Castile," though he was in fact an Andalusian, and one from +the strand of San Lucar, as crafty a thief as Cacus and as full of tricks +as a student or a page. "In that case," said he, + +poem{ + +"'Your bed is on the flinty rock, +Your sleep to watch alway;' + +}poem + +and if so, you may dismount and safely reckon upon any quantity of +sleeplessness under this roof for a twelvemonth, not to say for a single +night." So saying, he advanced to hold the stirrup for Don Quixote, who +got down with great difficulty and exertion (for he had not broken his +fast all day), and then charged the host to take great care of his horse, +as he was the best bit of flesh that ever ate bread in this world. The +landlord eyed him over but did not find him as good as Don Quixote said, +nor even half as good; and putting him up in the stable, he returned to +see what might be wanted by his guest, whom the damsels, who had by this +time made their peace with him, were now relieving of his armour. They +had taken off his breastplate and backpiece, but they neither knew nor +saw how to open his gorget or remove his make-shift helmet, for he had +fastened it with green ribbons, which, as there was no untying the knots, +required to be cut. This, however, he would not by any means consent to, +so he remained all the evening with his helmet on, the drollest and +oddest figure that can be imagined; and while they were removing his +armour, taking the baggages who were about it for ladies of high degree +belonging to the castle, he said to them with great sprightliness: + +poem{ + +"Oh, never, surely, was there knight + So served by hand of dame, +As served was he, Don Quixote hight, + When from his town he came; +With maidens waiting on himself, + Princesses on his hack-- + +}poem + +or Rocinante, for that, ladies mine, is my horse's name, and Don Quixote +of La Mancha is my own; for though I had no intention of declaring myself +until my achievements in your service and honour had made me known, the +necessity of adapting that old ballad of Lancelot to the present occasion +has given you the knowledge of my name altogether prematurely. A time, +however, will come for your ladyships to command and me to obey, and then +the might of my arm will show my desire to serve you." + +The girls, who were not used to hearing rhetoric of this sort, had +nothing to say in reply; they only asked him if he wanted anything to +eat. "I would gladly eat a bit of something," said Don Quixote, "for I +feel it would come very seasonably." The day happened to be a Friday, and +in the whole inn there was nothing but some pieces of the fish they call +in Castile "abadejo," in Andalusia "bacallao," and in some places +"curadillo," and in others "troutlet;" so they asked him if he thought he +could eat troutlet, for there was no other fish to give him. "If there be +troutlets enough," said Don Quixote, "they will be the same thing as a +trout; for it is all one to me whether I am given eight reals in small +change or a piece of eight; moreover, it may be that these troutlets are +like veal, which is better than beef, or kid, which is better than goat. +But whatever it be let it come quickly, for the burden and pressure of +arms cannot be borne without support to the inside." They laid a table +for him at the door of the inn for the sake of the air, and the host +brought him a portion of ill-soaked and worse cooked stockfish, and a +piece of bread as black and mouldy as his own armour; but a laughable +sight it was to see him eating, for having his helmet on and the beaver +up, he could not with his own hands put anything into his mouth unless +some one else placed it there, and this service one of the ladies +rendered him. But to give him anything to drink was impossible, or would +have been so had not the landlord bored a reed, and putting one end in +his mouth poured the wine into him through the other; all which he bore +with patience rather than sever the ribbons of his helmet. + +While this was going on there came up to the inn a sowgelder, who, as he +approached, sounded his reed pipe four or five times, and thereby +completely convinced Don Quixote that he was in some famous castle, and +that they were regaling him with music, and that the stockfish was trout, +the bread the whitest, the wenches ladies, and the landlord the castellan +of the castle; and consequently he held that his enterprise and sally had +been to some purpose. But still it distressed him to think he had not +been dubbed a knight, for it was plain to him he could not lawfully +engage in any adventure without receiving the order of knighthood. + +Chapter III. - +Wherein is related the droll way in which Don Quixote had himself dubbed +a Knight + +Harassed by this reflection, he made haste with his scanty pothouse +supper, and having finished it called the landlord, and shutting himself +into the stable with him, fell on his knees before him, saying, "From +this spot I rise not, valiant knight, until your courtesy grants me the +boon I seek, one that will redound to your praise and the benefit of the +human race." The landlord, seeing his guest at his feet and hearing a +speech of this kind, stood staring at him in bewilderment, not knowing +what to do or say, and entreating him to rise, but all to no purpose +until he had agreed to grant the boon demanded of him. "I looked for no +less, my lord, from your High Magnificence," replied Don Quixote, "and I +have to tell you that the boon I have asked and your liberality has +granted is that you shall dub me knight to-morrow morning, and that +to-night I shall watch my arms in the chapel of this your castle; thus +tomorrow, as I have said, will be accomplished what I so much desire, +enabling me lawfully to roam through all the four quarters of the world +seeking adventures on behalf of those in distress, as is the duty of +chivalry and of knights-errant like myself, whose ambition is directed to +such deeds." + +The landlord, who, as has been mentioned, was something of a wag, and had +already some suspicion of his guest's want of wits, was quite convinced +of it on hearing talk of this kind from him, and to make sport for the +night he determined to fall in with his humour. So he told him he was +quite right in pursuing the object he had in view, and that such a motive +was natural and becoming in cavaliers as distinguished as he seemed and +his gallant bearing showed him to be; and that he himself in his younger +days had followed the same honourable calling, roaming in quest of +adventures in various parts of the world, among others the Curing-grounds +of Malaga, the Isles of Riaran, the Precinct of Seville, the Little +Market of Segovia, the Olivera of Valencia, the Rondilla of Granada, the +Strand of San Lucar, the Colt of Cordova, the Taverns of Toledo, and +divers other quarters, where he had proved the nimbleness of his feet and +the lightness of his fingers, doing many wrongs, cheating many widows, +ruining maids and swindling minors, and, in short, bringing himself under +the notice of almost every tribunal and court of justice in Spain; until +at last he had retired to this castle of his, where he was living upon +his property and upon that of others; and where he received all +knights-errant of whatever rank or condition they might be, all for the +great love he bore them and that they might share their substance with +him in return for his benevolence. He told him, moreover, that in this +castle of his there was no chapel in which he could watch his armour, as +it had been pulled down in order to be rebuilt, but that in a case of +necessity it might, he knew, be watched anywhere, and he might watch it +that night in a courtyard of the castle, and in the morning, God willing, +the requisite ceremonies might be performed so as to have him dubbed a +knight, and so thoroughly dubbed that nobody could be more so. He asked +if he had any money with him, to which Don Quixote replied that he had +not a farthing, as in the histories of knights-errant he had never read +of any of them carrying any. On this point the landlord told him he was +mistaken; for, though not recorded in the histories, because in the +author's opinion there was no need to mention anything so obvious and +necessary as money and clean shirts, it was not to be supposed therefore +that they did not carry them, and he might regard it as certain and +established that all knights-errant (about whom there were so many full +and unimpeachable books) carried well-furnished purses in case of +emergency, and likewise carried shirts and a little box of ointment to +cure the wounds they received. For in those plains and deserts where they +engaged in combat and came out wounded, it was not always that there was +some one to cure them, unless indeed they had for a friend some sage +magician to succour them at once by fetching through the air upon a cloud +some damsel or dwarf with a vial of water of such virtue that by tasting +one drop of it they were cured of their hurts and wounds in an instant +and left as sound as if they had not received any damage whatever. But in +case this should not occur, the knights of old took care to see that +their squires were provided with money and other requisites, such as lint +and ointments for healing purposes; and when it happened that knights had +no squires (which was rarely and seldom the case) they themselves carried +everything in cunning saddle-bags that were hardly seen on the horse's +croup, as if it were something else of more importance, because, unless +for some such reason, carrying saddle-bags was not very favourably +regarded among knights-errant. He therefore advised him (and, as his +godson so soon to be, he might even command him) never from that time +forth to travel without money and the usual requirements, and he would +find the advantage of them when he least expected it. + +Don Quixote promised to follow his advice scrupulously, and it was +arranged forthwith that he should watch his armour in a large yard at one +side of the inn; so, collecting it all together, Don Quixote placed it on +a trough that stood by the side of a well, and bracing his buckler on his +arm he grasped his lance and began with a stately air to march up and +down in front of the trough, and as he began his march night began to +fall. + +The landlord told all the people who were in the inn about the craze of +his guest, the watching of the armour, and the dubbing ceremony he +contemplated. Full of wonder at so strange a form of madness, they +flocked to see it from a distance, and observed with what composure he +sometimes paced up and down, or sometimes, leaning on his lance, gazed on +his armour without taking his eyes off it for ever so long; and as the +night closed in with a light from the moon so brilliant that it might vie +with his that lent it, everything the novice knight did was plainly seen +by all. + +Meanwhile one of the carriers who were in the inn thought fit to water +his team, and it was necessary to remove Don Quixote's armour as it lay +on the trough; but he seeing the other approach hailed him in a loud +voice, "O thou, whoever thou art, rash knight that comest to lay hands on +the armour of the most valorous errant that ever girt on sword, have a +care what thou dost; touch it not unless thou wouldst lay down thy life +as the penalty of thy rashness." The carrier gave no heed to these words +(and he would have done better to heed them if he had been heedful of his +health), but seizing it by the straps flung the armour some distance from +him. Seeing this, Don Quixote raised his eyes to heaven, and fixing his +thoughts, apparently, upon his lady Dulcinea, exclaimed, "Aid me, lady +mine, in this the first encounter that presents itself to this breast +which thou holdest in subjection; let not thy favour and protection fail +me in this first jeopardy;" and, with these words and others to the same +purpose, dropping his buckler he lifted his lance with both hands and +with it smote such a blow on the carrier's head that he stretched him on +the ground, so stunned that had he followed it up with a second there +would have been no need of a surgeon to cure him. This done, he picked up +his armour and returned to his beat with the same serenity as before. + +Shortly after this, another, not knowing what had happened (for the +carrier still lay senseless), came with the same object of giving water +to his mules, and was proceeding to remove the armour in order to clear +the trough, when Don Quixote, without uttering a word or imploring aid +from anyone, once more dropped his buckler and once more lifted his +lance, and without actually breaking the second carrier's head into +pieces, made more than three of it, for he laid it open in four. At the +noise all the people of the inn ran to the spot, and among them the +landlord. Seeing this, Don Quixote braced his buckler on his arm, and +with his hand on his sword exclaimed, "O Lady of Beauty, strength and +support of my faint heart, it is time for thee to turn the eyes of thy +greatness on this thy captive knight on the brink of so mighty an +adventure." By this he felt himself so inspired that he would not have +flinched if all the carriers in the world had assailed him. The comrades +of the wounded perceiving the plight they were in began from a distance +to shower stones on Don Quixote, who screened himself as best he could +with his buckler, not daring to quit the trough and leave his armour +unprotected. The landlord shouted to them to leave him alone, for he had +already told them that he was mad, and as a madman he would not be +accountable even if he killed them all. Still louder shouted Don Quixote, +calling them knaves and traitors, and the lord of the castle, who allowed +knights-errant to be treated in this fashion, a villain and a low-born +knight whom, had he received the order of knighthood, he would call to +account for his treachery. "But of you," he cried, "base and vile rabble, +I make no account; fling, strike, come on, do all ye can against me, ye +shall see what the reward of your folly and insolence will be." This he +uttered with so much spirit and boldness that he filled his assailants +with a terrible fear, and as much for this reason as at the persuasion of +the landlord they left off stoning him, and he allowed them to carry off +the wounded, and with the same calmness and composure as before resumed +the watch over his armour. + +But these freaks of his guest were not much to the liking of the +landlord, so he determined to cut matters short and confer upon him at +once the unlucky order of knighthood before any further misadventure +could occur; so, going up to him, he apologised for the rudeness which, +without his knowledge, had been offered to him by these low people, who, +however, had been well punished for their audacity. As he had already +told him, he said, there was no chapel in the castle, nor was it needed +for what remained to be done, for, as he understood the ceremonial of the +order, the whole point of being dubbed a knight lay in the accolade and +in the slap on the shoulder, and that could be administered in the middle +of a field; and that he had now done all that was needful as to watching +the armour, for all requirements were satisfied by a watch of two hours +only, while he had been more than four about it. Don Quixote believed it +all, and told him he stood there ready to obey him, and to make an end of +it with as much despatch as possible; for, if he were again attacked, and +felt himself to be dubbed knight, he would not, he thought, leave a soul +alive in the castle, except such as out of respect he might spare at his +bidding. + +Thus warned and menaced, the castellan forthwith brought out a book in +which he used to enter the straw and barley he served out to the +carriers, and, with a lad carrying a candle-end, and the two damsels +already mentioned, he returned to where Don Quixote stood, and bade him +kneel down. Then, reading from his account-book as if he were repeating +some devout prayer, in the middle of his delivery he raised his hand and +gave him a sturdy blow on the neck, and then, with his own sword, a smart +slap on the shoulder, all the while muttering between his teeth as if he +was saying his prayers. Having done this, he directed one of the ladies +to gird on his sword, which she did with great self-possession and +gravity, and not a little was required to prevent a burst of laughter at +each stage of the ceremony; but what they had already seen of the novice +knight's prowess kept their laughter within bounds. On girding him with +the sword the worthy lady said to him, "May God make your worship a very +fortunate knight, and grant you success in battle." Don Quixote asked her +name in order that he might from that time forward know to whom he was +beholden for the favour he had received, as he meant to confer upon her +some portion of the honour he acquired by the might of his arm. She +answered with great humility that she was called La Tolosa, and that she +was the daughter of a cobbler of Toledo who lived in the stalls of +Sanchobienaya, and that wherever she might be she would serve and esteem +him as her lord. Don Quixote said in reply that she would do him a favour +if thenceforward she assumed the "Don" and called herself Dona Tolosa. +She promised she would, and then the other buckled on his spur, and with +her followed almost the same conversation as with the lady of the sword. +He asked her name, and she said it was La Molinera, and that she was the +daughter of a respectable miller of Antequera; and of her likewise Don +Quixote requested that she would adopt the "Don" and call herself Dona +Molinera, making offers to her further services and favours. + +Having thus, with hot haste and speed, brought to a conclusion these +never-till-now-seen ceremonies, Don Quixote was on thorns until he saw +himself on horseback sallying forth in quest of adventures; and saddling +Rocinante at once he mounted, and embracing his host, as he returned +thanks for his kindness in knighting him, he addressed him in language so +extraordinary that it is impossible to convey an idea of it or report it. +The landlord, to get him out of the inn, replied with no less rhetoric +though with shorter words, and without calling upon him to pay the +reckoning let him go with a Godspeed. + +Chapter IV. - +Of what happened to our Knight when he left the inn + +Day was dawning when Don Quixote quitted the inn, so happy, so gay, so +exhilarated at finding himself now dubbed a knight, that his joy was like +to burst his horse-girths. However, recalling the advice of his host as +to the requisites he ought to carry with him, especially that referring +to money and shirts, he determined to go home and provide himself with +all, and also with a squire, for he reckoned upon securing a +farm-labourer, a neighbour of his, a poor man with a family, but very +well qualified for the office of squire to a knight. With this object he +turned his horse's head towards his village, and Rocinante, thus reminded +of his old quarters, stepped out so briskly that he hardly seemed to +tread the earth. + +He had not gone far, when out of a thicket on his right there seemed to +come feeble cries as of some one in distress, and the instant he heard +them he exclaimed, "Thanks be to heaven for the favour it accords me, +that it so soon offers me an opportunity of fulfilling the obligation I +have undertaken, and gathering the fruit of my ambition. These cries, no +doubt, come from some man or woman in want of help, and needing my aid +and protection;" and wheeling, he turned Rocinante in the direction +whence the cries seemed to proceed. He had gone but a few paces into the +wood, when he saw a mare tied to an oak, and tied to another, and +stripped from the waist upwards, a youth of about fifteen years of age, +from whom the cries came. Nor were they without cause, for a lusty farmer +was flogging him with a belt and following up every blow with scoldings +and commands, repeating, "Your mouth shut and your eyes open!" while the +youth made answer, "I won't do it again, master mine; by God's passion I +won't do it again, and I'll take more care of the flock another time." + +Seeing what was going on, Don Quixote said in an angry voice, +"Discourteous knight, it ill becomes you to assail one who cannot defend +himself; mount your steed and take your lance" (for there was a lance +leaning against the oak to which the mare was tied), "and I will make you +know that you are behaving as a coward." The farmer, seeing before him +this figure in full armour brandishing a lance over his head, gave +himself up for dead, and made answer meekly, "Sir Knight, this youth that +I am chastising is my servant, employed by me to watch a flock of sheep +that I have hard by, and he is so careless that I lose one every day, and +when I punish him for his carelessness and knavery he says I do it out of +niggardliness, to escape paying him the wages I owe him, and before God, +and on my soul, he lies." + +"Lies before me, base clown!" said Don Quixote. "By the sun that shines +on us I have a mind to run you through with this lance. Pay him at once +without another word; if not, by the God that rules us I will make an end +of you, and annihilate you on the spot; release him instantly." + +The farmer hung his head, and without a word untied his servant, of whom +Don Quixote asked how much his master owed him. + +He replied, nine months at seven reals a month. Don Quixote added it up, +found that it came to sixty-three reals, and told the farmer to pay it +down immediately, if he did not want to die for it. + +The trembling clown replied that as he lived and by the oath he had sworn +(though he had not sworn any) it was not so much; for there were to be +taken into account and deducted three pairs of shoes he had given him, +and a real for two blood-lettings when he was sick. + +"All that is very well," said Don Quixote; "but let the shoes and the +blood-lettings stand as a setoff against the blows you have given him +without any cause; for if he spoiled the leather of the shoes you paid +for, you have damaged that of his body, and if the barber took blood from +him when he was sick, you have drawn it when he was sound; so on that +score he owes you nothing." + +"The difficulty is, Sir Knight, that I have no money here; let Andres +come home with me, and I will pay him all, real by real." + +"I go with him!" said the youth. "Nay, God forbid! No, senor, not for the +world; for once alone with me, he would ray me like a Saint Bartholomew." + +"He will do nothing of the kind," said Don Quixote; "I have only to +command, and he will obey me; and as he has sworn to me by the order of +knighthood which he has received, I leave him free, and I guarantee the +payment." + +"Consider what you are saying, senor," said the youth; "this master of +mine is not a knight, nor has he received any order of knighthood; for he +is Juan Haldudo the Rich, of Quintanar." + +"That matters little," replied Don Quixote; "there may be Haldudos +knights; moreover, everyone is the son of his works." + +"That is true," said Andres; "but this master of mine--of what works is +he the son, when he refuses me the wages of my sweat and labour?" + +"I do not refuse, brother Andres," said the farmer, "be good enough to +come along with me, and I swear by all the orders of knighthood there are +in the world to pay you as I have agreed, real by real, and perfumed." + +"For the perfumery I excuse you," said Don Quixote; "give it to him in +reals, and I shall be satisfied; and see that you do as you have sworn; +if not, by the same oath I swear to come back and hunt you out and punish +you; and I shall find you though you should lie closer than a lizard. And +if you desire to know who it is lays this command upon you, that you be +more firmly bound to obey it, know that I am the valorous Don Quixote of +La Mancha, the undoer of wrongs and injustices; and so, God be with you, +and keep in mind what you have promised and sworn under those penalties +that have been already declared to you." + +So saying, he gave Rocinante the spur and was soon out of reach. The +farmer followed him with his eyes, and when he saw that he had cleared +the wood and was no longer in sight, he turned to his boy Andres, and +said, "Come here, my son, I want to pay you what I owe you, as that +undoer of wrongs has commanded me." + +"My oath on it," said Andres, "your worship will be well advised to obey +the command of that good knight--may he live a thousand years--for, as he +is a valiant and just judge, by Roque, if you do not pay me, he will come +back and do as he said." + +"My oath on it, too," said the farmer; "but as I have a strong affection +for you, I want to add to the debt in order to add to the payment;" and +seizing him by the arm, he tied him up again, and gave him such a +flogging that he left him for dead. + +"Now, Master Andres," said the farmer, "call on the undoer of wrongs; you +will find he won't undo that, though I am not sure that I have quite done +with you, for I have a good mind to flay you alive." But at last he +untied him, and gave him leave to go look for his judge in order to put +the sentence pronounced into execution. + +Andres went off rather down in the mouth, swearing he would go to look +for the valiant Don Quixote of La Mancha and tell him exactly what had +happened, and that all would have to be repaid him sevenfold; but for all +that, he went off weeping, while his master stood laughing. + +Thus did the valiant Don Quixote right that wrong, and, thoroughly +satisfied with what had taken place, as he considered he had made a very +happy and noble beginning with his knighthood, he took the road towards +his village in perfect self-content, saying in a low voice, "Well mayest +thou this day call thyself fortunate above all on earth, O Dulcinea del +Toboso, fairest of the fair! since it has fallen to thy lot to hold +subject and submissive to thy full will and pleasure a knight so renowned +as is and will be Don Quixote of La Mancha, who, as all the world knows, +yesterday received the order of knighthood, and hath to-day righted the +greatest wrong and grievance that ever injustice conceived and cruelty +perpetrated: who hath to-day plucked the rod from the hand of yonder +ruthless oppressor so wantonly lashing that tender child." + +He now came to a road branching in four directions, and immediately he +was reminded of those cross-roads where knights-errant used to stop to +consider which road they should take. In imitation of them he halted for +a while, and after having deeply considered it, he gave Rocinante his +head, submitting his own will to that of his hack, who followed out his +first intention, which was to make straight for his own stable. After he +had gone about two miles Don Quixote perceived a large party of people, +who, as afterwards appeared, were some Toledo traders, on their way to +buy silk at Murcia. There were six of them coming along under their +sunshades, with four servants mounted, and three muleteers on foot. +Scarcely had Don Quixote descried them when the fancy possessed him that +this must be some new adventure; and to help him to imitate as far as he +could those passages he had read of in his books, here seemed to come one +made on purpose, which he resolved to attempt. So with a lofty bearing +and determination he fixed himself firmly in his stirrups, got his lance +ready, brought his buckler before his breast, and planting himself in the +middle of the road, stood waiting the approach of these knights-errant, +for such he now considered and held them to be; and when they had come +near enough to see and hear, he exclaimed with a haughty gesture, "All +the world stand, unless all the world confess that in all the world there +is no maiden fairer than the Empress of La Mancha, the peerless Dulcinea +del Toboso." + +The traders halted at the sound of this language and the sight of the +strange figure that uttered it, and from both figure and language at once +guessed the craze of their owner; they wished, however, to learn quietly +what was the object of this confession that was demanded of them, and one +of them, who was rather fond of a joke and was very sharp-witted, said to +him, "Sir Knight, we do not know who this good lady is that you speak of; +show her to us, for, if she be of such beauty as you suggest, with all +our hearts and without any pressure we will confess the truth that is on +your part required of us." + +"If I were to show her to you," replied Don Quixote, "what merit would +you have in confessing a truth so manifest? The essential point is that +without seeing her you must believe, confess, affirm, swear, and defend +it; else ye have to do with me in battle, ill-conditioned, arrogant +rabble that ye are; and come ye on, one by one as the order of knighthood +requires, or all together as is the custom and vile usage of your breed, +here do I bide and await you relying on the justice of the cause I +maintain." + +"Sir Knight," replied the trader, "I entreat your worship in the name of +this present company of princes, that, to save us from charging our +consciences with the confession of a thing we have never seen or heard +of, and one moreover so much to the prejudice of the Empresses and Queens +of the Alcarria and Estremadura, your worship will be pleased to show us +some portrait of this lady, though it be no bigger than a grain of wheat; +for by the thread one gets at the ball, and in this way we shall be +satisfied and easy, and you will be content and pleased; nay, I believe +we are already so far agreed with you that even though her portrait +should show her blind of one eye, and distilling vermilion and sulphur +from the other, we would nevertheless, to gratify your worship, say all +in her favour that you desire." + +"She distils nothing of the kind, vile rabble," said Don Quixote, burning +with rage, "nothing of the kind, I say, only ambergris and civet in +cotton; nor is she one-eyed or humpbacked, but straighter than a +Guadarrama spindle: but ye must pay for the blasphemy ye have uttered +against beauty like that of my lady." + +And so saying, he charged with levelled lance against the one who had +spoken, with such fury and fierceness that, if luck had not contrived +that Rocinante should stumble midway and come down, it would have gone +hard with the rash trader. Down went Rocinante, and over went his master, +rolling along the ground for some distance; and when he tried to rise he +was unable, so encumbered was he with lance, buckler, spurs, helmet, and +the weight of his old armour; and all the while he was struggling to get +up he kept saying, "Fly not, cowards and caitiffs! stay, for not by my +fault, but my horse's, am I stretched here." + +One of the muleteers in attendance, who could not have had much good +nature in him, hearing the poor prostrate man blustering in this style, +was unable to refrain from giving him an answer on his ribs; and coming +up to him he seized his lance, and having broken it in pieces, with one +of them he began so to belabour our Don Quixote that, notwithstanding and +in spite of his armour, he milled him like a measure of wheat. His +masters called out not to lay on so hard and to leave him alone, but the +muleteers blood was up, and he did not care to drop the game until he had +vented the rest of his wrath, and gathering up the remaining fragments of +the lance he finished with a discharge upon the unhappy victim, who all +through the storm of sticks that rained on him never ceased threatening +heaven, and earth, and the brigands, for such they seemed to him. At last +the muleteer was tired, and the traders continued their journey, taking +with them matter for talk about the poor fellow who had been cudgelled. +He when he found himself alone made another effort to rise; but if he was +unable when whole and sound, how was he to rise after having been +thrashed and well-nigh knocked to pieces? And yet he esteemed himself +fortunate, as it seemed to him that this was a regular knight-errant's +mishap, and entirely, he considered, the fault of his horse. However, +battered in body as he was, to rise was beyond his power. + +Chapter V. - +In which the narrative of our Knight's mishap is continued + +Finding, then, that, in fact he could not move, he thought himself of +having recourse to his usual remedy, which was to think of some passage +in his books, and his craze brought to his mind that about Baldwin and +the Marquis of Mantua, when Carloto left him wounded on the mountain +side, a story known by heart by the children, not forgotten by the young +men, and lauded and even believed by the old folk; and for all that not a +whit truer than the miracles of Mahomet. This seemed to him to fit +exactly the case in which he found himself, so, making a show of severe +suffering, he began to roll on the ground and with feeble breath repeat +the very words which the wounded knight of the wood is said to have +uttered: + +poem{ + +Where art thou, lady mine, that thou + My sorrow dost not rue? +Thou canst not know it, lady mine, + Or else thou art untrue. + +}poem + +And so he went on with the ballad as far as the lines: + +poem{ + +O noble Marquis of Mantua, + My Uncle and liege lord! + +}poem + +As chance would have it, when he had got to this line there happened to +come by a peasant from his own village, a neighbour of his, who had been +with a load of wheat to the mill, and he, seeing the man stretched there, +came up to him and asked him who he was and what was the matter with him +that he complained so dolefully. + +Don Quixote was firmly persuaded that this was the Marquis of Mantua, his +uncle, so the only answer he made was to go on with his ballad, in which +he told the tale of his misfortune, and of the loves of the Emperor's son +and his wife all exactly as the ballad sings it. + +The peasant stood amazed at hearing such nonsense, and relieving him of +the visor, already battered to pieces by blows, he wiped his face, which +was covered with dust, and as soon as he had done so he recognised him +and said, "Senor Quixada" (for so he appears to have been called when he +was in his senses and had not yet changed from a quiet country gentleman +into a knight-errant), "who has brought your worship to this pass?" But +to all questions the other only went on with his ballad. + +Seeing this, the good man removed as well as he could his breastplate and +backpiece to see if he had any wound, but he could perceive no blood nor +any mark whatever. He then contrived to raise him from the ground, and +with no little difficulty hoisted him upon his ass, which seemed to him +to be the easiest mount for him; and collecting the arms, even to the +splinters of the lance, he tied them on Rocinante, and leading him by the +bridle and the ass by the halter he took the road for the village, very +sad to hear what absurd stuff Don Quixote was talking. + +Nor was Don Quixote less so, for what with blows and bruises he could not +sit upright on the ass, and from time to time he sent up sighs to heaven, +so that once more he drove the peasant to ask what ailed him. And it +could have been only the devil himself that put into his head tales to +match his own adventures, for now, forgetting Baldwin, he bethought +himself of the Moor Abindarraez, when the Alcaide of Antequera, Rodrigo +de Narvaez, took him prisoner and carried him away to his castle; so that +when the peasant again asked him how he was and what ailed him, he gave +him for reply the same words and phrases that the captive Abindarraez +gave to Rodrigo de Narvaez, just as he had read the story in the "Diana" +of Jorge de Montemayor where it is written, applying it to his own case +so aptly that the peasant went along cursing his fate that he had to +listen to such a lot of nonsense; from which, however, he came to the +conclusion that his neighbour was mad, and so made all haste to reach the +village to escape the wearisomeness of this harangue of Don Quixote's; +who, at the end of it, said, "Senor Don Rodrigo de Narvaez, your worship +must know that this fair Xarifa I have mentioned is now the lovely +Dulcinea del Toboso, for whom I have done, am doing, and will do the most +famous deeds of chivalry that in this world have been seen, are to be +seen, or ever shall be seen." + +To this the peasant answered, "Senor--sinner that I am!--cannot your +worship see that I am not Don Rodrigo de Narvaez nor the Marquis of +Mantua, but Pedro Alonso your neighbour, and that your worship is neither +Baldwin nor Abindarraez, but the worthy gentleman Senor Quixada?" + +"I know who I am," replied Don Quixote, "and I know that I may be not +only those I have named, but all the Twelve Peers of France and even all +the Nine Worthies, since my achievements surpass all that they have done +all together and each of them on his own account." + +With this talk and more of the same kind they reached the village just as +night was beginning to fall, but the peasant waited until it was a little +later that the belaboured gentleman might not be seen riding in such a +miserable trim. When it was what seemed to him the proper time he entered +the village and went to Don Quixote's house, which he found all in +confusion, and there were the curate and the village barber, who were +great friends of Don Quixote, and his housekeeper was saying to them in a +loud voice, "What does your worship think can have befallen my master, +Senor Licentiate Pero Perez?" for so the curate was called; "it is three +days now since anything has been seen of him, or the hack, or the +buckler, lance, or armour. Miserable me! I am certain of it, and it is as +true as that I was born to die, that these accursed books of chivalry he +has, and has got into the way of reading so constantly, have upset his +reason; for now I remember having often heard him saying to himself that +he would turn knight-errant and go all over the world in quest of +adventures. To the devil and Barabbas with such books, that have brought +to ruin in this way the finest understanding there was in all La Mancha!" + +The niece said the same, and, more: "You must know, Master Nicholas"--for +that was the name of the barber--"it was often my uncle's way to stay two +days and nights together poring over these unholy books of misventures, +after which he would fling the book away and snatch up his sword and fall +to slashing the walls; and when he was tired out he would say he had +killed four giants like four towers; and the sweat that flowed from him +when he was weary he said was the blood of the wounds he had received in +battle; and then he would drink a great jug of cold water and become calm +and quiet, saying that this water was a most precious potion which the +sage Esquife, a great magician and friend of his, had brought him. But I +take all the blame upon myself for never having told your worships of my +uncle's vagaries, that you might put a stop to them before things had +come to this pass, and burn all these accursed books--for he has a great +number--that richly deserve to be burned like heretics." + +"So say I too," said the curate, "and by my faith to-morrow shall not +pass without public judgment upon them, and may they be condemned to the +flames lest they lead those that read to behave as my good friend seems +to have behaved." + +All this the peasant heard, and from it he understood at last what was +the matter with his neighbour, so he began calling aloud, "Open, your +worships, to Senor Baldwin and to Senor the Marquis of Mantua, who comes +badly wounded, and to Senor Abindarraez, the Moor, whom the valiant +Rodrigo de Narvaez, the Alcaide of Antequera, brings captive." + +At these words they all hurried out, and when they recognised their +friend, master, and uncle, who had not yet dismounted from the ass +because he could not, they ran to embrace him. + +"Hold!" said he, "for I am badly wounded through my horse's fault; carry +me to bed, and if possible send for the wise Urganda to cure and see to +my wounds." + +"See there! plague on it!" cried the housekeeper at this: "did not my +heart tell the truth as to which foot my master went lame of? To bed with +your worship at once, and we will contrive to cure you here without +fetching that Hurgada. A curse I say once more, and a hundred times more, +on those books of chivalry that have brought your worship to such a +pass." + +They carried him to bed at once, and after searching for his wounds could +find none, but he said they were all bruises from having had a severe +fall with his horse Rocinante when in combat with ten giants, the biggest +and the boldest to be found on earth. + +"So, so!" said the curate, "are there giants in the dance? By the sign of +the Cross I will burn them to-morrow before the day over." + +They put a host of questions to Don Quixote, but his only answer to all +was--give him something to eat, and leave him to sleep, for that was what +he needed most. They did so, and the curate questioned the peasant at +great length as to how he had found Don Quixote. He told him, and the +nonsense he had talked when found and on the way home, all which made the +licentiate the more eager to do what he did the next day, which was to +summon his friend the barber, Master Nicholas, and go with him to Don +Quixote's house. + +Chapter VI. - +Of the diverting and important scrutiny which the curate and the barber +made in the library of our ingenious gentleman + +He was still sleeping; so the curate asked the niece for the keys of the +room where the books, the authors of all the mischief, were, and right +willingly she gave them. They all went in, the housekeeper with them, and +found more than a hundred volumes of big books very well bound, and some +other small ones. The moment the housekeeper saw them she turned about +and ran out of the room, and came back immediately with a saucer of holy +water and a sprinkler, saying, "Here, your worship, senor licentiate, +sprinkle this room; don't leave any magician of the many there are in +these books to bewitch us in revenge for our design of banishing them +from the world." + +The simplicity of the housekeeper made the licentiate laugh, and he +directed the barber to give him the books one by one to see what they +were about, as there might be some to be found among them that did not +deserve the penalty of fire. + +"No," said the niece, "there is no reason for showing mercy to any of +them; they have every one of them done mischief; better fling them out of +the window into the court and make a pile of them and set fire to them; +or else carry them into the yard, and there a bonfire can be made without +the smoke giving any annoyance." The housekeeper said the same, so eager +were they both for the slaughter of those innocents, but the curate would +not agree to it without first reading at any rate the titles. + +The first that Master Nicholas put into his hand was "The four books of +Amadis of Gaul." "This seems a mysterious thing," said the curate, "for, +as I have heard say, this was the first book of chivalry printed in +Spain, and from this all the others derive their birth and origin; so it +seems to me that we ought inexorably to condemn it to the flames as the +founder of so vile a sect." + +"Nay, sir," said the barber, "I too, have heard say that this is the best +of all the books of this kind that have been written, and so, as +something singular in its line, it ought to be pardoned." + +"True," said the curate; "and for that reason let its life be spared for +the present. Let us see that other which is next to it." + +"It is," said the barber, "the 'Sergas de Esplandian,' the lawful son of +Amadis of Gaul." + +"Then verily," said the curate, "the merit of the father must not be put +down to the account of the son. Take it, mistress housekeeper; open the +window and fling it into the yard and lay the foundation of the pile for +the bonfire we are to make." + +The housekeeper obeyed with great satisfaction, and the worthy +"Esplandian" went flying into the yard to await with all patience the +fire that was in store for him. + +"Proceed," said the curate. + +"This that comes next," said the barber, "is 'Amadis of Greece,' and, +indeed, I believe all those on this side are of the same Amadis lineage." + +"Then to the yard with the whole of them," said the curate; "for to have +the burning of Queen Pintiquiniestra, and the shepherd Darinel and his +eclogues, and the bedevilled and involved discourses of his author, I +would burn with them the father who begot me if he were going about in +the guise of a knight-errant." + +"I am of the same mind," said the barber. + +"And so am I," added the niece. + +"In that case," said the housekeeper, "here, into the yard with them!" + +They were handed to her, and as there were many of them, she spared +herself the staircase, and flung them down out of the window. + +"Who is that tub there?" said the curate. + +"This," said the barber, "is 'Don Olivante de Laura.'" + +"The author of that book," said the curate, "was the same that wrote 'The +Garden of Flowers,' and truly there is no deciding which of the two books +is the more truthful, or, to put it better, the less lying; all I can say +is, send this one into the yard for a swaggering fool." + +"This that follows is 'Florismarte of Hircania,'" said the barber. + +"Senor Florismarte here?" said the curate; "then by my faith he must take +up his quarters in the yard, in spite of his marvellous birth and +visionary adventures, for the stiffness and dryness of his style deserve +nothing else; into the yard with him and the other, mistress +housekeeper." + +"With all my heart, senor," said she, and executed the order with great +delight. + +"This," said the barber, "is The Knight Platir.'" + +"An old book that," said the curate, "but I find no reason for clemency +in it; send it after the others without appeal;" which was done. + +Another book was opened, and they saw it was entitled, "The Knight of the +Cross." + +"For the sake of the holy name this book has," said the curate, "its +ignorance might be excused; but then, they say, 'behind the cross there's +the devil; to the fire with it." + +Taking down another book, the barber said, "This is 'The Mirror of +Chivalry.'" + +"I know his worship," said the curate; "that is where Senor Reinaldos of +Montalvan figures with his friends and comrades, greater thieves than +Cacus, and the Twelve Peers of France with the veracious historian +Turpin; however, I am not for condemning them to more than perpetual +banishment, because, at any rate, they have some share in the invention +of the famous Matteo Boiardo, whence too the Christian poet Ludovico +Ariosto wove his web, to whom, if I find him here, and speaking any +language but his own, I shall show no respect whatever; but if he speaks +his own tongue I will put him upon my head." + +"Well, I have him in Italian," said the barber, "but I do not understand +him." + +"Nor would it be well that you should understand him," said the curate, +"and on that score we might have excused the Captain if he had not +brought him into Spain and turned him into Castilian. He robbed him of a +great deal of his natural force, and so do all those who try to turn +books written in verse into another language, for, with all the pains +they take and all the cleverness they show, they never can reach the +level of the originals as they were first produced. In short, I say that +this book, and all that may be found treating of those French affairs, +should be thrown into or deposited in some dry well, until after more +consideration it is settled what is to be done with them; excepting +always one 'Bernardo del Carpio' that is going about, and another called +'Roncesvalles;' for these, if they come into my hands, shall pass at once +into those of the housekeeper, and from hers into the fire without any +reprieve." + +To all this the barber gave his assent, and looked upon it as right and +proper, being persuaded that the curate was so staunch to the Faith and +loyal to the Truth that he would not for the world say anything opposed +to them. Opening another book he saw it was "Palmerin de Oliva," and +beside it was another called "Palmerin of England," seeing which the +licentiate said, "Let the Olive be made firewood of at once and burned +until no ashes even are left; and let that Palm of England be kept and +preserved as a thing that stands alone, and let such another case be made +for it as that which Alexander found among the spoils of Darius and set +aside for the safe keeping of the works of the poet Homer. This book, +gossip, is of authority for two reasons, first because it is very good, +and secondly because it is said to have been written by a wise and witty +king of Portugal. All the adventures at the Castle of Miraguarda are +excellent and of admirable contrivance, and the language is polished and +clear, studying and observing the style befitting the speaker with +propriety and judgment. So then, provided it seems good to you, Master +Nicholas, I say let this and 'Amadis of Gaul' be remitted the penalty of +fire, and as for all the rest, let them perish without further question +or query." + +"Nay, gossip," said the barber, "for this that I have here is the famous +'Don Belianis.'" + +"Well," said the curate, "that and the second, third, and fourth parts +all stand in need of a little rhubarb to purge their excess of bile, and +they must be cleared of all that stuff about the Castle of Fame and other +greater affectations, to which end let them be allowed the over-seas +term, and, according as they mend, so shall mercy or justice be meted out +to them; and in the mean time, gossip, do you keep them in your house and +let no one read them." + +"With all my heart," said the barber; and not caring to tire himself with +reading more books of chivalry, he told the housekeeper to take all the +big ones and throw them into the yard. It was not said to one dull or +deaf, but to one who enjoyed burning them more than weaving the broadest +and finest web that could be; and seizing about eight at a time, she +flung them out of the window. + +In carrying so many together she let one fall at the feet of the barber, +who took it up, curious to know whose it was, and found it said, "History +of the Famous Knight, Tirante el Blanco." + +"God bless me!" said the curate with a shout, "'Tirante el Blanco' here! +Hand it over, gossip, for in it I reckon I have found a treasury of +enjoyment and a mine of recreation. Here is Don Kyrieleison of Montalvan, +a valiant knight, and his brother Thomas of Montalvan, and the knight +Fonseca, with the battle the bold Tirante fought with the mastiff, and +the witticisms of the damsel Placerdemivida, and the loves and wiles of +the widow Reposada, and the empress in love with the squire Hipolito--in +truth, gossip, by right of its style it is the best book in the world. +Here knights eat and sleep, and die in their beds, and make their wills +before dying, and a great deal more of which there is nothing in all the +other books. Nevertheless, I say he who wrote it, for deliberately +composing such fooleries, deserves to be sent to the galleys for life. +Take it home with you and read it, and you will see that what I have said +is true." + +"As you will," said the barber; "but what are we to do with these little +books that are left?" + +"These must be, not chivalry, but poetry," said the curate; and opening +one he saw it was the "Diana" of Jorge de Montemayor, and, supposing all +the others to be of the same sort, "these," he said, "do not deserve to +be burned like the others, for they neither do nor can do the mischief +the books of chivalry have done, being books of entertainment that can +hurt no one." + +"Ah, senor!" said the niece, "your worship had better order these to be +burned as well as the others; for it would be no wonder if, after being +cured of his chivalry disorder, my uncle, by reading these, took a fancy +to turn shepherd and range the woods and fields singing and piping; or, +what would be still worse, to turn poet, which they say is an incurable +and infectious malady." + +"The damsel is right," said the curate, "and it will be well to put this +stumbling-block and temptation out of our friend's way. To begin, then, +with the 'Diana' of Montemayor. I am of opinion it should not be burned, +but that it should be cleared of all that about the sage Felicia and the +magic water, and of almost all the longer pieces of verse: let it keep, +and welcome, its prose and the honour of being the first of books of the +kind." + +"This that comes next," said the barber, "is the 'Diana,' entitled the +'Second Part, by the Salamancan,' and this other has the same title, and +its author is Gil Polo." + +"As for that of the Salamancan," replied the curate, "let it go to swell +the number of the condemned in the yard, and let Gil Polo's be preserved +as if it came from Apollo himself: but get on, gossip, and make haste, +for it is growing late." + +"This book," said the barber, opening another, "is the ten books of the +'Fortune of Love,' written by Antonio de Lofraso, a Sardinian poet." + +"By the orders I have received," said the curate, "since Apollo has been +Apollo, and the Muses have been Muses, and poets have been poets, so +droll and absurd a book as this has never been written, and in its way it +is the best and the most singular of all of this species that have as yet +appeared, and he who has not read it may be sure he has never read what +is delightful. Give it here, gossip, for I make more account of having +found it than if they had given me a cassock of Florence stuff." + +He put it aside with extreme satisfaction, and the barber went on, "These +that come next are 'The Shepherd of Iberia,' 'Nymphs of Henares,' and +'The Enlightenment of Jealousy.'" + +"Then all we have to do," said the curate, "is to hand them over to the +secular arm of the housekeeper, and ask me not why, or we shall never +have done." + +"This next is the 'Pastor de Filida.'" + +"No Pastor that," said the curate, "but a highly polished courtier; let +it be preserved as a precious jewel." + +"This large one here," said the barber, "is called 'The Treasury of +various Poems.'" + +"If there were not so many of them," said the curate, "they would be more +relished: this book must be weeded and cleansed of certain vulgarities +which it has with its excellences; let it be preserved because the author +is a friend of mine, and out of respect for other more heroic and loftier +works that he has written." + +"This," continued the barber, "is the 'Cancionero' of Lopez de +Maldonado." + +"The author of that book, too," said the curate, "is a great friend of +mine, and his verses from his own mouth are the admiration of all who +hear them, for such is the sweetness of his voice that he enchants when +he chants them: it gives rather too much of its eclogues, but what is +good was never yet plentiful: let it be kept with those that have been +set apart. But what book is that next it?" + +"The 'Galatea' of Miguel de Cervantes," said the barber. + +"That Cervantes has been for many years a great friend of mine, and to my +knowledge he has had more experience in reverses than in verses. His book +has some good invention in it, it presents us with something but brings +nothing to a conclusion: we must wait for the Second Part it promises: +perhaps with amendment it may succeed in winning the full measure of +grace that is now denied it; and in the mean time do you, senor gossip, +keep it shut up in your own quarters." + +"Very good," said the barber; "and here come three together, the +'Araucana' of Don Alonso de Ercilla, the 'Austriada' of Juan Rufo, +Justice of Cordova, and the 'Montserrate' of Christobal de Virues, the +Valencian poet." + +"These three books," said the curate, "are the best that have been +written in Castilian in heroic verse, and they may compare with the most +famous of Italy; let them be preserved as the richest treasures of poetry +that Spain possesses." + +The curate was tired and would not look into any more books, and so he +decided that, "contents uncertified," all the rest should be burned; but +just then the barber held open one, called "The Tears of Angelica." + +"I should have shed tears myself," said the curate when he heard the +title, "had I ordered that book to be burned, for its author was one of +the famous poets of the world, not to say of Spain, and was very happy in +the translation of some of Ovid's fables." + +Chapter VII. - +Of the second sally of our worthy knight Don Quixote of La Mancha + +At this instant Don Quixote began shouting out, "Here, here, valiant +knights! here is need for you to put forth the might of your strong arms, +for they of the Court are gaining the mastery in the tourney!" Called +away by this noise and outcry, they proceeded no farther with the +scrutiny of the remaining books, and so it is thought that "The Carolea," +"The Lion of Spain," and "The Deeds of the Emperor," written by Don Luis +de Avila, went to the fire unseen and unheard; for no doubt they were +among those that remained, and perhaps if the curate had seen them they +would not have undergone so severe a sentence. + +When they reached Don Quixote he was already out of bed, and was still +shouting and raving, and slashing and cutting all round, as wide awake as +if he had never slept. + +They closed with him and by force got him back to bed, and when he had +become a little calm, addressing the curate, he said to him, "Of a truth, +Senor Archbishop Turpin, it is a great disgrace for us who call ourselves +the Twelve Peers, so carelessly to allow the knights of the Court to gain +the victory in this tourney, we the adventurers having carried off the +honour on the three former days." + +"Hush, gossip," said the curate; "please God, the luck may turn, and what +is lost to-day may be won to-morrow; for the present let your worship +have a care of your health, for it seems to me that you are +over-fatigued, if not badly wounded." + +"Wounded no," said Don Quixote, "but bruised and battered no doubt, for +that bastard Don Roland has cudgelled me with the trunk of an oak tree, +and all for envy, because he sees that I alone rival him in his +achievements. But I should not call myself Reinaldos of Montalvan did he +not pay me for it in spite of all his enchantments as soon as I rise from +this bed. For the present let them bring me something to eat, for that, I +feel, is what will be more to my purpose, and leave it to me to avenge +myself." + +They did as he wished; they gave him something to eat, and once more he +fell asleep, leaving them marvelling at his madness. + +That night the housekeeper burned to ashes all the books that were in the +yard and in the whole house; and some must have been consumed that +deserved preservation in everlasting archives, but their fate and the +laziness of the examiner did not permit it, and so in them was verified +the proverb that the innocent suffer for the guilty. + +One of the remedies which the curate and the barber immediately applied +to their friend's disorder was to wall up and plaster the room where the +books were, so that when he got up he should not find them (possibly the +cause being removed the effect might cease), and they might say that a +magician had carried them off, room and all; and this was done with all +despatch. Two days later Don Quixote got up, and the first thing he did +was to go and look at his books, and not finding the room where he had +left it, he wandered from side to side looking for it. He came to the +place where the door used to be, and tried it with his hands, and turned +and twisted his eyes in every direction without saying a word; but after +a good while he asked his housekeeper whereabouts was the room that held +his books. + +The housekeeper, who had been already well instructed in what she was to +answer, said, "What room or what nothing is it that your worship is +looking for? There are neither room nor books in this house now, for the +devil himself has carried all away." + +"It was not the devil," said the niece, "but a magician who came on a +cloud one night after the day your worship left this, and dismounting +from a serpent that he rode he entered the room, and what he did there I +know not, but after a little while he made off, flying through the roof, +and left the house full of smoke; and when we went to see what he had +done we saw neither book nor room: but we remember very well, the +housekeeper and I, that on leaving, the old villain said in a loud voice +that, for a private grudge he owed the owner of the books and the room, +he had done mischief in that house that would be discovered by-and-by: he +said too that his name was the Sage Munaton." + +"He must have said Friston," said Don Quixote. + +"I don't know whether he called himself Friston or Friton," said the +housekeeper, "I only know that his name ended with 'ton.'" + +"So it does," said Don Quixote, "and he is a sage magician, a great enemy +of mine, who has a spite against me because he knows by his arts and lore +that in process of time I am to engage in single combat with a knight +whom he befriends and that I am to conquer, and he will be unable to +prevent it; and for this reason he endeavours to do me all the ill turns +that he can; but I promise him it will be hard for him to oppose or avoid +what is decreed by Heaven." + +"Who doubts that?" said the niece; "but, uncle, who mixes you up in these +quarrels? Would it not be better to remain at peace in your own house +instead of roaming the world looking for better bread than ever came of +wheat, never reflecting that many go for wool and come back shorn?" + +"Oh, niece of mine," replied Don Quixote, "how much astray art thou in +thy reckoning: ere they shear me I shall have plucked away and stripped +off the beards of all who dare to touch only the tip of a hair of mine." + +The two were unwilling to make any further answer, as they saw that his +anger was kindling. + +In short, then, he remained at home fifteen days very quietly without +showing any signs of a desire to take up with his former delusions, and +during this time he held lively discussions with his two gossips, the +curate and the barber, on the point he maintained, that knights-errant +were what the world stood most in need of, and that in him was to be +accomplished the revival of knight-errantry. The curate sometimes +contradicted him, sometimes agreed with him, for if he had not observed +this precaution he would have been unable to bring him to reason. + +Meanwhile Don Quixote worked upon a farm labourer, a neighbour of his, an +honest man (if indeed that title can be given to him who is poor), but +with very little wit in his pate. In a word, he so talked him over, and +with such persuasions and promises, that the poor clown made up his mind +to sally forth with him and serve him as esquire. Don Quixote, among +other things, told him he ought to be ready to go with him gladly, +because any moment an adventure might occur that might win an island in +the twinkling of an eye and leave him governor of it. On these and the +like promises Sancho Panza (for so the labourer was called) left wife and +children, and engaged himself as esquire to his neighbour. + +Don Quixote next set about getting some money; and selling one thing and +pawning another, and making a bad bargain in every case, he got together +a fair sum. He provided himself with a buckler, which he begged as a loan +from a friend, and, restoring his battered helmet as best he could, he +warned his squire Sancho of the day and hour he meant to set out, that he +might provide himself with what he thought most needful. Above all, he +charged him to take alforjas with him. The other said he would, and that +he meant to take also a very good ass he had, as he was not much given to +going on foot. About the ass, Don Quixote hesitated a little, trying +whether he could call to mind any knight-errant taking with him an +esquire mounted on ass-back, but no instance occurred to his memory. For +all that, however, he determined to take him, intending to furnish him +with a more honourable mount when a chance of it presented itself, by +appropriating the horse of the first discourteous knight he encountered. +Himself he provided with shirts and such other things as he could, +according to the advice the host had given him; all which being done, +without taking leave, Sancho Panza of his wife and children, or Don +Quixote of his housekeeper and niece, they sallied forth unseen by +anybody from the village one night, and made such good way in the course +of it that by daylight they held themselves safe from discovery, even +should search be made for them. + +Sancho rode on his ass like a patriarch, with his alforjas and bota, and +longing to see himself soon governor of the island his master had +promised him. Don Quixote decided upon taking the same route and road he +had taken on his first journey, that over the Campo de Montiel, which he +travelled with less discomfort than on the last occasion, for, as it was +early morning and the rays of the sun fell on them obliquely, the heat +did not distress them. + +And now said Sancho Panza to his master, "Your worship will take care, +Senor Knight-errant, not to forget about the island you have promised me, +for be it ever so big I'll be equal to governing it." + +To which Don Quixote replied, "Thou must know, friend Sancho Panza, that +it was a practice very much in vogue with the knights-errant of old to +make their squires governors of the islands or kingdoms they won, and I +am determined that there shall be no failure on my part in so liberal a +custom; on the contrary, I mean to improve upon it, for they sometimes, +and perhaps most frequently, waited until their squires were old, and +then when they had had enough of service and hard days and worse nights, +they gave them some title or other, of count, or at the most marquis, of +some valley or province more or less; but if thou livest and I live, it +may well be that before six days are over, I may have won some kingdom +that has others dependent upon it, which will be just the thing to enable +thee to be crowned king of one of them. Nor needst thou count this +wonderful, for things and chances fall to the lot of such knights in ways +so unexampled and unexpected that I might easily give thee even more than +I promise thee." + +"In that case," said Sancho Panza, "if I should become a king by one of +those miracles your worship speaks of, even Juana Gutierrez, my old +woman, would come to be queen and my children infantes." + +"Well, who doubts it?" said Don Quixote. + +"I doubt it," replied Sancho Panza, "because for my part I am persuaded +that though God should shower down kingdoms upon earth, not one of them +would fit the head of Mari Gutierrez. Let me tell you, senor, she is not +worth two maravedis for a queen; countess will fit her better, and that +only with God's help." + +"Leave it to God, Sancho," returned Don Quixote, "for he will give her +what suits her best; but do not undervalue thyself so much as to come to +be content with anything less than being governor of a province." + +"I will not, senor," answered Sancho, "specially as I have a man of such +quality for a master in your worship, who will know how to give me all +that will be suitable for me and that I can bear." + +Chapter VIII. - +Of the good fortune which the valiant Don Quixote had in the terrible and +undreamt-of adventure of the windmills, with other occurrences worthy to +be fitly recorded + +At this point they came in sight of thirty forty windmills that there are +on plain, and as soon as Don Quixote saw them he said to his squire, +"Fortune is arranging matters for us better than we could have shaped our +desires ourselves, for look there, friend Sancho Panza, where thirty or +more monstrous giants present themselves, all of whom I mean to engage in +battle and slay, and with whose spoils we shall begin to make our +fortunes; for this is righteous warfare, and it is God's good service to +sweep so evil a breed from off the face of the earth." + +"What giants?" said Sancho Panza. + +"Those thou seest there," answered his master, "with the long arms, and +some have them nearly two leagues long." + +"Look, your worship," said Sancho; "what we see there are not giants but +windmills, and what seem to be their arms are the sails that turned by +the wind make the millstone go." + +"It is easy to see," replied Don Quixote, "that thou art not used to this +business of adventures; those are giants; and if thou art afraid, away +with thee out of this and betake thyself to prayer while I engage them in +fierce and unequal combat." + +So saying, he gave the spur to his steed Rocinante, heedless of the cries +his squire Sancho sent after him, warning him that most certainly they +were windmills and not giants he was going to attack. He, however, was so +positive they were giants that he neither heard the cries of Sancho, nor +perceived, near as he was, what they were, but made at them shouting, +"Fly not, cowards and vile beings, for a single knight attacks you." + +A slight breeze at this moment sprang up, and the great sails began to +move, seeing which Don Quixote exclaimed, "Though ye flourish more arms +than the giant Briareus, ye have to reckon with me." + +So saying, and commending himself with all his heart to his lady +Dulcinea, imploring her to support him in such a peril, with lance in +rest and covered by his buckler, he charged at Rocinante's fullest gallop +and fell upon the first mill that stood in front of him; but as he drove +his lance-point into the sail the wind whirled it round with such force +that it shivered the lance to pieces, sweeping with it horse and rider, +who went rolling over on the plain, in a sorry condition. Sancho hastened +to his assistance as fast as his ass could go, and when he came up found +him unable to move, with such a shock had Rocinante fallen with him. + +"God bless me!" said Sancho, "did I not tell your worship to mind what +you were about, for they were only windmills? and no one could have made +any mistake about it but one who had something of the same kind in his +head." + +"Hush, friend Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "the fortunes of war more +than any other are liable to frequent fluctuations; and moreover I think, +and it is the truth, that that same sage Friston who carried off my study +and books, has turned these giants into mills in order to rob me of the +glory of vanquishing them, such is the enmity he bears me; but in the end +his wicked arts will avail but little against my good sword." + +"God order it as he may," said Sancho Panza, and helping him to rise got +him up again on Rocinante, whose shoulder was half out; and then, +discussing the late adventure, they followed the road to Puerto Lapice, +for there, said Don Quixote, they could not fail to find adventures in +abundance and variety, as it was a great thoroughfare. For all that, he +was much grieved at the loss of his lance, and saying so to his squire, +he added, "I remember having read how a Spanish knight, Diego Perez de +Vargas by name, having broken his sword in battle, tore from an oak a +ponderous bough or branch, and with it did such things that day, and +pounded so many Moors, that he got the surname of Machuca, and he and his +descendants from that day forth were called Vargas y Machuca. I mention +this because from the first oak I see I mean to rend such another branch, +large and stout like that, with which I am determined and resolved to do +such deeds that thou mayest deem thyself very fortunate in being found +worthy to come and see them, and be an eyewitness of things that will +with difficulty be believed." + +"Be that as God will," said Sancho, "I believe it all as your worship +says it; but straighten yourself a little, for you seem all on one side, +may be from the shaking of the fall." + +"That is the truth," said Don Quixote, "and if I make no complaint of the +pain it is because knights-errant are not permitted to complain of any +wound, even though their bowels be coming out through it." + +"If so," said Sancho, "I have nothing to say; but God knows I would +rather your worship complained when anything ailed you. For my part, I +confess I must complain however small the ache may be; unless this rule +about not complaining extends to the squires of knights-errant also." + +Don Quixote could not help laughing at his squire's simplicity, and he +assured him he might complain whenever and however he chose, just as he +liked, for, so far, he had never read of anything to the contrary in the +order of knighthood. + +Sancho bade him remember it was dinner-time, to which his master answered +that he wanted nothing himself just then, but that he might eat when he +had a mind. With this permission Sancho settled himself as comfortably as +he could on his beast, and taking out of the alforjas what he had stowed +away in them, he jogged along behind his master munching deliberately, +and from time to time taking a pull at the bota with a relish that the +thirstiest tapster in Malaga might have envied; and while he went on in +this way, gulping down draught after draught, he never gave a thought to +any of the promises his master had made him, nor did he rate it as +hardship but rather as recreation going in quest of adventures, however +dangerous they might be. Finally they passed the night among some trees, +from one of which Don Quixote plucked a dry branch to serve him after a +fashion as a lance, and fixed on it the head he had removed from the +broken one. All that night Don Quixote lay awake thinking of his lady +Dulcinea, in order to conform to what he had read in his books, how many +a night in the forests and deserts knights used to lie sleepless +supported by the memory of their mistresses. Not so did Sancho Panza +spend it, for having his stomach full of something stronger than chicory +water he made but one sleep of it, and, if his master had not called him, +neither the rays of the sun beating on his face nor all the cheery notes +of the birds welcoming the approach of day would have had power to waken +him. On getting up he tried the bota and found it somewhat less full than +the night before, which grieved his heart because they did not seem to be +on the way to remedy the deficiency readily. Don Quixote did not care to +break his fast, for, as has been already said, he confined himself to +savoury recollections for nourishment. + +They returned to the road they had set out with, leading to Puerto +Lapice, and at three in the afternoon they came in sight of it. "Here, +brother Sancho Panza," said Don Quixote when he saw it, "we may plunge +our hands up to the elbows in what they call adventures; but observe, +even shouldst thou see me in the greatest danger in the world, thou must +not put a hand to thy sword in my defence, unless indeed thou perceivest +that those who assail me are rabble or base folk; for in that case thou +mayest very properly aid me; but if they be knights it is on no account +permitted or allowed thee by the laws of knighthood to help me until thou +hast been dubbed a knight." + +"Most certainly, senor," replied Sancho, "your worship shall be fully +obeyed in this matter; all the more as of myself I am peaceful and no +friend to mixing in strife and quarrels: it is true that as regards the +defence of my own person I shall not give much heed to those laws, for +laws human and divine allow each one to defend himself against any +assailant whatever." + +"That I grant," said Don Quixote, "but in this matter of aiding me +against knights thou must put a restraint upon thy natural impetuosity." + +"I will do so, I promise you," answered Sancho, "and will keep this +precept as carefully as Sunday." + +While they were thus talking there appeared on the road two friars of the +order of St. Benedict, mounted on two dromedaries, for not less tall were +the two mules they rode on. They wore travelling spectacles and carried +sunshades; and behind them came a coach attended by four or five persons +on horseback and two muleteers on foot. In the coach there was, as +afterwards appeared, a Biscay lady on her way to Seville, where her +husband was about to take passage for the Indies with an appointment of +high honour. The friars, though going the same road, were not in her +company; but the moment Don Quixote perceived them he said to his squire, +"Either I am mistaken, or this is going to be the most famous adventure +that has ever been seen, for those black bodies we see there must be, and +doubtless are, magicians who are carrying off some stolen princess in +that coach, and with all my might I must undo this wrong." + +"This will be worse than the windmills," said Sancho. "Look, senor; those +are friars of St. Benedict, and the coach plainly belongs to some +travellers: I tell you to mind well what you are about and don't let the +devil mislead you." + +"I have told thee already, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "that on the +subject of adventures thou knowest little. What I say is the truth, as +thou shalt see presently." + +So saying, he advanced and posted himself in the middle of the road along +which the friars were coming, and as soon as he thought they had come +near enough to hear what he said, he cried aloud, "Devilish and unnatural +beings, release instantly the highborn princesses whom you are carrying +off by force in this coach, else prepare to meet a speedy death as the +just punishment of your evil deeds." + +The friars drew rein and stood wondering at the appearance of Don Quixote +as well as at his words, to which they replied, "Senor Caballero, we are +not devilish or unnatural, but two brothers of St. Benedict following our +road, nor do we know whether or not there are any captive princesses +coming in this coach." + +"No soft words with me, for I know you, lying rabble," said Don Quixote, +and without waiting for a reply he spurred Rocinante and with levelled +lance charged the first friar with such fury and determination, that, if +the friar had not flung himself off the mule, he would have brought him +to the ground against his will, and sore wounded, if not killed outright. +The second brother, seeing how his comrade was treated, drove his heels +into his castle of a mule and made off across the country faster than the +wind. + +Sancho Panza, when he saw the friar on the ground, dismounting briskly +from his ass, rushed towards him and began to strip off his gown. At that +instant the friars muleteers came up and asked what he was stripping him +for. Sancho answered them that this fell to him lawfully as spoil of the +battle which his lord Don Quixote had won. The muleteers, who had no idea +of a joke and did not understand all this about battles and spoils, +seeing that Don Quixote was some distance off talking to the travellers +in the coach, fell upon Sancho, knocked him down, and leaving hardly a +hair in his beard, belaboured him with kicks and left him stretched +breathless and senseless on the ground; and without any more delay helped +the friar to mount, who, trembling, terrified, and pale, as soon as he +found himself in the saddle, spurred after his companion, who was +standing at a distance looking on, watching the result of the onslaught; +then, not caring to wait for the end of the affair just begun, they +pursued their journey making more crosses than if they had the devil +after them. + +Don Quixote was, as has been said, speaking to the lady in the coach: +"Your beauty, lady mine," said he, "may now dispose of your person as may +be most in accordance with your pleasure, for the pride of your ravishers +lies prostrate on the ground through this strong arm of mine; and lest +you should be pining to know the name of your deliverer, know that I am +called Don Quixote of La Mancha, knight-errant and adventurer, and +captive to the peerless and beautiful lady Dulcinea del Toboso: and in +return for the service you have received of me I ask no more than that +you should return to El Toboso, and on my behalf present yourself before +that lady and tell her what I have done to set you free." + +One of the squires in attendance upon the coach, a Biscayan, was +listening to all Don Quixote was saying, and, perceiving that he would +not allow the coach to go on, but was saying it must return at once to El +Toboso, he made at him, and seizing his lance addressed him in bad +Castilian and worse Biscayan after his fashion, "Begone, caballero, and +ill go with thee; by the God that made me, unless thou quittest coach, +slayest thee as art here a Biscayan." + +Don Quixote understood him quite well, and answered him very quietly, "If +thou wert a knight, as thou art none, I should have already chastised thy +folly and rashness, miserable creature." To which the Biscayan returned, +"I no gentleman!--I swear to God thou liest as I am Christian: if thou +droppest lance and drawest sword, soon shalt thou see thou art carrying +water to the cat: Biscayan on land, hidalgo at sea, hidalgo at the devil, +and look, if thou sayest otherwise thou liest." + +"'"You will see presently," said Agrajes,'" replied Don Quixote; and +throwing his lance on the ground he drew his sword, braced his buckler on +his arm, and attacked the Biscayan, bent upon taking his life. + +The Biscayan, when he saw him coming on, though he wished to dismount +from his mule, in which, being one of those sorry ones let out for hire, +he had no confidence, had no choice but to draw his sword; it was lucky +for him, however, that he was near the coach, from which he was able to +snatch a cushion that served him for a shield; and they went at one +another as if they had been two mortal enemies. The others strove to make +peace between them, but could not, for the Biscayan declared in his +disjointed phrase that if they did not let him finish his battle he would +kill his mistress and everyone that strove to prevent him. The lady in +the coach, amazed and terrified at what she saw, ordered the coachman to +draw aside a little, and set herself to watch this severe struggle, in +the course of which the Biscayan smote Don Quixote a mighty stroke on the +shoulder over the top of his buckler, which, given to one without armour, +would have cleft him to the waist. Don Quixote, feeling the weight of +this prodigious blow, cried aloud, saying, "O lady of my soul, Dulcinea, +flower of beauty, come to the aid of this your knight, who, in fulfilling +his obligations to your beauty, finds himself in this extreme peril." To +say this, to lift his sword, to shelter himself well behind his buckler, +and to assail the Biscayan was the work of an instant, determined as he +was to venture all upon a single blow. The Biscayan, seeing him come on +in this way, was convinced of his courage by his spirited bearing, and +resolved to follow his example, so he waited for him keeping well under +cover of his cushion, being unable to execute any sort of manoeuvre with +his mule, which, dead tired and never meant for this kind of game, could +not stir a step. + +On, then, as aforesaid, came Don Quixote against the wary Biscayan, with +uplifted sword and a firm intention of splitting him in half, while on +his side the Biscayan waited for him sword in hand, and under the +protection of his cushion; and all present stood trembling, waiting in +suspense the result of blows such as threatened to fall, and the lady in +the coach and the rest of her following were making a thousand vows and +offerings to all the images and shrines of Spain, that God might deliver +her squire and all of them from this great peril in which they found +themselves. But it spoils all, that at this point and crisis the author +of the history leaves this battle impending, giving as excuse that he +could find nothing more written about these achievements of Don Quixote +than what has been already set forth. It is true the second author of +this work was unwilling to believe that a history so curious could have +been allowed to fall under the sentence of oblivion, or that the wits of +La Mancha could have been so undiscerning as not to preserve in their +archives or registries some documents referring to this famous knight; +and this being his persuasion, he did not despair of finding the +conclusion of this pleasant history, which, heaven favouring him, he did +find in a way that shall be related in the Second Part. + +Chapter IX. - +In which is concluded and finished the terrific battle between the +gallant Biscayan and the valiant Manchegan + +In the First Part of this history we left the valiant Biscayan and the +renowned Don Quixote with drawn swords uplifted, ready to deliver two +such furious slashing blows that if they had fallen full and fair they +would at least have split and cleft them asunder from top to toe and laid +them open like a pomegranate; and at this so critical point the +delightful history came to a stop and stood cut short without any +intimation from the author where what was missing was to be found. + +This distressed me greatly, because the pleasure derived from having read +such a small portion turned to vexation at the thought of the poor chance +that presented itself of finding the large part that, so it seemed to me, +was missing of such an interesting tale. It appeared to me to be a thing +impossible and contrary to all precedent that so good a knight should +have been without some sage to undertake the task of writing his +marvellous achievements; a thing that was never wanting to any of those +knights-errant who, they say, went after adventures; for every one of +them had one or two sages as if made on purpose, who not only recorded +their deeds but described their most trifling thoughts and follies, +however secret they might be; and such a good knight could not have been +so unfortunate as not to have what Platir and others like him had in +abundance. And so I could not bring myself to believe that such a gallant +tale had been left maimed and mutilated, and I laid the blame on Time, +the devourer and destroyer of all things, that had either concealed or +consumed it. + +On the other hand, it struck me that, inasmuch as among his books there +had been found such modern ones as "The Enlightenment of Jealousy" and +the "Nymphs and Shepherds of Henares," his story must likewise be modern, +and that though it might not be written, it might exist in the memory of +the people of his village and of those in the neighbourhood. This +reflection kept me perplexed and longing to know really and truly the +whole life and wondrous deeds of our famous Spaniard, Don Quixote of La +Mancha, light and mirror of Manchegan chivalry, and the first that in our +age and in these so evil days devoted himself to the labour and exercise +of the arms of knight-errantry, righting wrongs, succouring widows, and +protecting damsels of that sort that used to ride about, whip in hand, on +their palfreys, with all their virginity about them, from mountain to +mountain and valley to valley--for, if it were not for some ruffian, or +boor with a hood and hatchet, or monstrous giant, that forced them, there +were in days of yore damsels that at the end of eighty years, in all +which time they had never slept a day under a roof, went to their graves +as much maids as the mothers that bore them. I say, then, that in these +and other respects our gallant Don Quixote is worthy of everlasting and +notable praise, nor should it be withheld even from me for the labour and +pains spent in searching for the conclusion of this delightful history; +though I know well that if Heaven, chance and good fortune had not helped +me, the world would have remained deprived of an entertainment and +pleasure that for a couple of hours or so may well occupy him who shall +read it attentively. The discovery of it occurred in this way. + +One day, as I was in the Alcana of Toledo, a boy came up to sell some +pamphlets and old papers to a silk mercer, and, as I am fond of reading +even the very scraps of paper in the streets, led by this natural bent of +mine I took up one of the pamphlets the boy had for sale, and saw that it +was in characters which I recognised as Arabic, and as I was unable to +read them though I could recognise them, I looked about to see if there +were any Spanish-speaking Morisco at hand to read them for me; nor was +there any great difficulty in finding such an interpreter, for even had I +sought one for an older and better language I should have found him. In +short, chance provided me with one, who when I told him what I wanted and +put the book into his hands, opened it in the middle and after reading a +little in it began to laugh. I asked him what he was laughing at, and he +replied that it was at something the book had written in the margin by +way of a note. I bade him tell it to me; and he still laughing said, "In +the margin, as I told you, this is written: 'This Dulcinea del Toboso so +often mentioned in this history, had, they say, the best hand of any +woman in all La Mancha for salting pigs.'" + +When I heard Dulcinea del Toboso named, I was struck with surprise and +amazement, for it occurred to me at once that these pamphlets contained +the history of Don Quixote. With this idea I pressed him to read the +beginning, and doing so, turning the Arabic offhand into Castilian, he +told me it meant, "History of Don Quixote of La Mancha, written by Cide +Hamete Benengeli, an Arab historian." It required great caution to hide +the joy I felt when the title of the book reached my ears, and snatching +it from the silk mercer, I bought all the papers and pamphlets from the +boy for half a real; and if he had had his wits about him and had known +how eager I was for them, he might have safely calculated on making more +than six reals by the bargain. I withdrew at once with the Morisco into +the cloister of the cathedral, and begged him to turn all these pamphlets +that related to Don Quixote into the Castilian tongue, without omitting +or adding anything to them, offering him whatever payment he pleased. He +was satisfied with two arrobas of raisins and two bushels of wheat, and +promised to translate them faithfully and with all despatch; but to make +the matter easier, and not to let such a precious find out of my hands, I +took him to my house, where in little more than a month and a half he +translated the whole just as it is set down here. + +In the first pamphlet the battle between Don Quixote and the Biscayan was +drawn to the very life, they planted in the same attitude as the history +describes, their swords raised, and the one protected by his buckler, the +other by his cushion, and the Biscayan's mule so true to nature that it +could be seen to be a hired one a bowshot off. The Biscayan had an +inscription under his feet which said, "Don Sancho de Azpeitia," which no +doubt must have been his name; and at the feet of Rocinante was another +that said, "Don Quixote." Rocinante was marvellously portrayed, so long +and thin, so lank and lean, with so much backbone and so far gone in +consumption, that he showed plainly with what judgment and propriety the +name of Rocinante had been bestowed upon him. Near him was Sancho Panza +holding the halter of his ass, at whose feet was another label that said, +"Sancho Zancas," and according to the picture, he must have had a big +belly, a short body, and long shanks, for which reason, no doubt, the +names of Panza and Zancas were given him, for by these two surnames the +history several times calls him. Some other trifling particulars might be +mentioned, but they are all of slight importance and have nothing to do +with the true relation of the history; and no history can be bad so long +as it is true. + +If against the present one any objection be raised on the score of its +truth, it can only be that its author was an Arab, as lying is a very +common propensity with those of that nation; though, as they are such +enemies of ours, it is conceivable that there were omissions rather than +additions made in the course of it. And this is my own opinion; for, +where he could and should give freedom to his pen in praise of so worthy +a knight, he seems to me deliberately to pass it over in silence; which +is ill done and worse contrived, for it is the business and duty of +historians to be exact, truthful, and wholly free from passion, and +neither interest nor fear, hatred nor love, should make them swerve from +the path of truth, whose mother is history, rival of time, storehouse of +deeds, witness for the past, example and counsel for the present, and +warning for the future. In this I know will be found all that can be +desired in the pleasantest, and if it be wanting in any good quality, I +maintain it is the fault of its hound of an author and not the fault of +the subject. To be brief, its Second Part, according to the translation, +began in this way: + +With trenchant swords upraised and poised on high, it seemed as though +the two valiant and wrathful combatants stood threatening heaven, and +earth, and hell, with such resolution and determination did they bear +themselves. The fiery Biscayan was the first to strike a blow, which was +delivered with such force and fury that had not the sword turned in its +course, that single stroke would have sufficed to put an end to the +bitter struggle and to all the adventures of our knight; but that good +fortune which reserved him for greater things, turned aside the sword of +his adversary, so that although it smote him upon the left shoulder, it +did him no more harm than to strip all that side of its armour, carrying +away a great part of his helmet with half of his ear, all which with +fearful ruin fell to the ground, leaving him in a sorry plight. + +Good God! Who is there that could properly describe the rage that filled +the heart of our Manchegan when he saw himself dealt with in this +fashion? All that can be said is, it was such that he again raised +himself in his stirrups, and, grasping his sword more firmly with both +hands, he came down on the Biscayan with such fury, smiting him full over +the cushion and over the head, that--even so good a shield proving +useless--as if a mountain had fallen on him, he began to bleed from nose, +mouth, and ears, reeling as if about to fall backwards from his mule, as +no doubt he would have done had he not flung his arms about its neck; at +the same time, however, he slipped his feet out of the stirrups and then +unclasped his arms, and the mule, taking fright at the terrible blow, +made off across the plain, and with a few plunges flung its master to the +ground. Don Quixote stood looking on very calmly, and, when he saw him +fall, leaped from his horse and with great briskness ran to him, and, +presenting the point of his sword to his eyes, bade him surrender, or he +would cut his head off. The Biscayan was so bewildered that he was unable +to answer a word, and it would have gone hard with him, so blind was Don +Quixote, had not the ladies in the coach, who had hitherto been watching +the combat in great terror, hastened to where he stood and implored him +with earnest entreaties to grant them the great grace and favour of +sparing their squire's life; to which Don Quixote replied with much +gravity and dignity, "In truth, fair ladies, I am well content to do what +ye ask of me; but it must be on one condition and understanding, which is +that this knight promise me to go to the village of El Toboso, and on my +behalf present himself before the peerless lady Dulcinea, that she deal +with him as shall be most pleasing to her." + +The terrified and disconsolate ladies, without discussing Don Quixote's +demand or asking who Dulcinea might be, promised that their squire should +do all that had been commanded. + +"Then, on the faith of that promise," said Don Quixote, "I shall do him +no further harm, though he well deserves it of me." + +Chapter X. - +Of the pleasant discourse that passed between Don Quixote and his Squire +Sancho Panza + +Now by this time Sancho had risen, rather the worse for the handling of +the friars' muleteers, and stood watching the battle of his master, Don +Quixote, and praying to God in his heart that it might be his will to +grant him the victory, and that he might thereby win some island to make +him governor of, as he had promised. Seeing, therefore, that the struggle +was now over, and that his master was returning to mount Rocinante, he +approached to hold the stirrup for him, and, before he could mount, he +went on his knees before him, and taking his hand, kissed it saying, "May +it please your worship, Senor Don Quixote, to give me the government of +that island which has been won in this hard fight, for be it ever so big +I feel myself in sufficient force to be able to govern it as much and as +well as anyone in the world who has ever governed islands." + +To which Don Quixote replied, "Thou must take notice, brother Sancho, +that this adventure and those like it are not adventures of islands, but +of cross-roads, in which nothing is got except a broken head or an ear +the less: have patience, for adventures will present themselves from +which I may make you, not only a governor, but something more." + +Sancho gave him many thanks, and again kissing his hand and the skirt of +his hauberk, helped him to mount Rocinante, and mounting his ass himself, +proceeded to follow his master, who at a brisk pace, without taking +leave, or saying anything further to the ladies belonging to the coach, +turned into a wood that was hard by. Sancho followed him at his ass's +best trot, but Rocinante stepped out so that, seeing himself left behind, +he was forced to call to his master to wait for him. Don Quixote did so, +reining in Rocinante until his weary squire came up, who on reaching him +said, "It seems to me, senor, it would be prudent in us to go and take +refuge in some church, for, seeing how mauled he with whom you fought has +been left, it will be no wonder if they give information of the affair to +the Holy Brotherhood and arrest us, and, faith, if they do, before we +come out of gaol we shall have to sweat for it." + +"Peace," said Don Quixote; "where hast thou ever seen or heard that a +knight-errant has been arraigned before a court of justice, however many +homicides he may have committed?" + +"I know nothing about omecils," answered Sancho, "nor in my life have had +anything to do with one; I only know that the Holy Brotherhood looks +after those who fight in the fields, and in that other matter I do not +meddle." + +"Then thou needst have no uneasiness, my friend," said Don Quixote, "for +I will deliver thee out of the hands of the Chaldeans, much more out of +those of the Brotherhood. But tell me, as thou livest, hast thou seen a +more valiant knight than I in all the known world; hast thou read in +history of any who has or had higher mettle in attack, more spirit in +maintaining it, more dexterity in wounding or skill in overthrowing?" + +"The truth is," answered Sancho, "that I have never read any history, for +I can neither read nor write, but what I will venture to bet is that a +more daring master than your worship I have never served in all the days +of my life, and God grant that this daring be not paid for where I have +said; what I beg of your worship is to dress your wound, for a great deal +of blood flows from that ear, and I have here some lint and a little +white ointment in the alforjas." + +"All that might be well dispensed with," said Don Quixote, "if I had +remembered to make a vial of the balsam of Fierabras, for time and +medicine are saved by one single drop." + +"What vial and what balsam is that?" said Sancho Panza. + +"It is a balsam," answered Don Quixote, "the receipt of which I have in +my memory, with which one need have no fear of death, or dread dying of +any wound; and so when I make it and give it to thee thou hast nothing to +do when in some battle thou seest they have cut me in half through the +middle of the body--as is wont to happen frequently,--but neatly and with +great nicety, ere the blood congeal, to place that portion of the body +which shall have fallen to the ground upon the other half which remains +in the saddle, taking care to fit it on evenly and exactly. Then thou +shalt give me to drink but two drops of the balsam I have mentioned, and +thou shalt see me become sounder than an apple." + +"If that be so," said Panza, "I renounce henceforth the government of the +promised island, and desire nothing more in payment of my many and +faithful services than that your worship give me the receipt of this +supreme liquor, for I am persuaded it will be worth more than two reals +an ounce anywhere, and I want no more to pass the rest of my life in ease +and honour; but it remains to be told if it costs much to make it." + +"With less than three reals, six quarts of it may be made," said Don +Quixote. + +"Sinner that I am!" said Sancho, "then why does your worship put off +making it and teaching it to me?" + +"Peace, friend," answered Don Quixote; "greater secrets I mean to teach +thee and greater favours to bestow upon thee; and for the present let us +see to the dressing, for my ear pains me more than I could wish." + +Sancho took out some lint and ointment from the alforjas; but when Don +Quixote came to see his helmet shattered, he was like to lose his senses, +and clapping his hand upon his sword and raising his eyes to heaven, be +said, "I swear by the Creator of all things and the four Gospels in their +fullest extent, to do as the great Marquis of Mantua did when he swore to +avenge the death of his nephew Baldwin (and that was not to eat bread +from a table-cloth, nor embrace his wife, and other points which, though +I cannot now call them to mind, I here grant as expressed) until I take +complete vengeance upon him who has committed such an offence against +me." + +Hearing this, Sancho said to him, "Your worship should bear in mind, +Senor Don Quixote, that if the knight has done what was commanded him in +going to present himself before my lady Dulcinea del Toboso, he will have +done all that he was bound to do, and does not deserve further punishment +unless he commits some new offence." + +"Thou hast said well and hit the point," answered Don Quixote; and so I +recall the oath in so far as relates to taking fresh vengeance on him, +but I make and confirm it anew to lead the life I have said until such +time as I take by force from some knight another helmet such as this and +as good; and think not, Sancho, that I am raising smoke with straw in +doing so, for I have one to imitate in the matter, since the very same +thing to a hair happened in the case of Mambrino's helmet, which cost +Sacripante so dear." + +"Senor," replied Sancho, "let your worship send all such oaths to the +devil, for they are very pernicious to salvation and prejudicial to the +conscience; just tell me now, if for several days to come we fall in with +no man armed with a helmet, what are we to do? Is the oath to be observed +in spite of all the inconvenience and discomfort it will be to sleep in +your clothes, and not to sleep in a house, and a thousand other +mortifications contained in the oath of that old fool the Marquis of +Mantua, which your worship is now wanting to revive? Let your worship +observe that there are no men in armour travelling on any of these roads, +nothing but carriers and carters, who not only do not wear helmets, but +perhaps never heard tell of them all their lives." + +"Thou art wrong there," said Don Quixote, "for we shall not have been +above two hours among these cross-roads before we see more men in armour +than came to Albraca to win the fair Angelica." + +"Enough," said Sancho; "so be it then, and God grant us success, and that +the time for winning that island which is costing me so dear may soon +come, and then let me die." + +"I have already told thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "not to give +thyself any uneasiness on that score; for if an island should fail, there +is the kingdom of Denmark, or of Sobradisa, which will fit thee as a ring +fits the finger, and all the more that, being on terra firma, thou wilt +all the better enjoy thyself. But let us leave that to its own time; see +if thou hast anything for us to eat in those alforjas, because we must +presently go in quest of some castle where we may lodge to-night and make +the balsam I told thee of, for I swear to thee by God, this ear is giving +me great pain." + +"I have here an onion and a little cheese and a few scraps of bread," +said Sancho, "but they are not victuals fit for a valiant knight like +your worship." + +"How little thou knowest about it," answered Don Quixote; "I would have +thee to know, Sancho, that it is the glory of knights-errant to go +without eating for a month, and even when they do eat, that it should be +of what comes first to hand; and this would have been clear to thee hadst +thou read as many histories as I have, for, though they are very many, +among them all I have found no mention made of knights-errant eating, +unless by accident or at some sumptuous banquets prepared for them, and +the rest of the time they passed in dalliance. And though it is plain +they could not do without eating and performing all the other natural +functions, because, in fact, they were men like ourselves, it is plain +too that, wandering as they did the most part of their lives through +woods and wilds and without a cook, their most usual fare would be rustic +viands such as those thou now offer me; so that, friend Sancho, let not +that distress thee which pleases me, and do not seek to make a new world +or pervert knight-errantry." + +"Pardon me, your worship," said Sancho, "for, as I cannot read or write, +as I said just now, I neither know nor comprehend the rules of the +profession of chivalry: henceforward I will stock the alforjas with every +kind of dry fruit for your worship, as you are a knight; and for myself, +as I am not one, I will furnish them with poultry and other things more +substantial." + +"I do not say, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "that it is imperative on +knights-errant not to eat anything else but the fruits thou speakest of; +only that their more usual diet must be those, and certain herbs they +found in the fields which they knew and I know too." + +"A good thing it is," answered Sancho, "to know those herbs, for to my +thinking it will be needful some day to put that knowledge into +practice." + +And here taking out what he said he had brought, the pair made their +repast peaceably and sociably. But anxious to find quarters for the +night, they with all despatch made an end of their poor dry fare, mounted +at once, and made haste to reach some habitation before night set in; but +daylight and the hope of succeeding in their object failed them close by +the huts of some goatherds, so they determined to pass the night there, +and it was as much to Sancho's discontent not to have reached a house, as +it was to his master's satisfaction to sleep under the open heaven, for +he fancied that each time this happened to him he performed an act of +ownership that helped to prove his chivalry. + +Chapter XI. - +What befell Don quixote with certain goatherds + +He was cordially welcomed by the goatherds, and Sancho, having as best he +could put up Rocinante and the ass, drew towards the fragrance that came +from some pieces of salted goat simmering in a pot on the fire; and +though he would have liked at once to try if they were ready to be +transferred from the pot to the stomach, he refrained from doing so as +the goatherds removed them from the fire, and laying sheepskins on the +ground, quickly spread their rude table, and with signs of hearty +good-will invited them both to share what they had. Round the skins six +of the men belonging to the fold seated themselves, having first with +rough politeness pressed Don Quixote to take a seat upon a trough which +they placed for him upside down. Don Quixote seated himself, and Sancho +remained standing to serve the cup, which was made of horn. Seeing him +standing, his master said to him: + +"That thou mayest see, Sancho, the good that knight-errantry contains in +itself, and how those who fill any office in it are on the high road to +be speedily honoured and esteemed by the world, I desire that thou seat +thyself here at my side and in the company of these worthy people, and +that thou be one with me who am thy master and natural lord, and that +thou eat from my plate and drink from whatever I drink from; for the same +may be said of knight-errantry as of love, that it levels all." + +"Great thanks," said Sancho, "but I may tell your worship that provided I +have enough to eat, I can eat it as well, or better, standing, and by +myself, than seated alongside of an emperor. And indeed, if the truth is +to be told, what I eat in my corner without form or fuss has much more +relish for me, even though it be bread and onions, than the turkeys of +those other tables where I am forced to chew slowly, drink little, wipe +my mouth every minute, and cannot sneeze or cough if I want or do other +things that are the privileges of liberty and solitude. So, senor, as for +these honours which your worship would put upon me as a servant and +follower of knight-errantry, exchange them for other things which may be +of more use and advantage to me; for these, though I fully acknowledge +them as received, I renounce from this moment to the end of the world." + +"For all that," said Don Quixote, "thou must seat thyself, because him +who humbleth himself God exalteth;" and seizing him by the arm he forced +him to sit down beside himself. + +The goatherds did not understand this jargon about squires and +knights-errant, and all they did was to eat in silence and stare at their +guests, who with great elegance and appetite were stowing away pieces as +big as one's fist. The course of meat finished, they spread upon the +sheepskins a great heap of parched acorns, and with them they put down a +half cheese harder than if it had been made of mortar. All this while the +horn was not idle, for it went round so constantly, now full, now empty, +like the bucket of a water-wheel, that it soon drained one of the two +wine-skins that were in sight. When Don Quixote had quite appeased his +appetite he took up a handful of the acorns, and contemplating them +attentively delivered himself somewhat in this fashion: + +"Happy the age, happy the time, to which the ancients gave the name of +golden, not because in that fortunate age the gold so coveted in this our +iron one was gained without toil, but because they that lived in it knew +not the two words "mine" and "thine"! In that blessed age all things were +in common; to win the daily food no labour was required of any save to +stretch forth his hand and gather it from the sturdy oaks that stood +generously inviting him with their sweet ripe fruit. The clear streams +and running brooks yielded their savoury limpid waters in noble +abundance. The busy and sagacious bees fixed their republic in the clefts +of the rocks and hollows of the trees, offering without usance the +plenteous produce of their fragrant toil to every hand. The mighty cork +trees, unenforced save of their own courtesy, shed the broad light bark +that served at first to roof the houses supported by rude stakes, a +protection against the inclemency of heaven alone. Then all was peace, +all friendship, all concord; as yet the dull share of the crooked plough +had not dared to rend and pierce the tender bowels of our first mother +that without compulsion yielded from every portion of her broad fertile +bosom all that could satisfy, sustain, and delight the children that then +possessed her. Then was it that the innocent and fair young shepherdess +roamed from vale to vale and hill to hill, with flowing locks, and no +more garments than were needful modestly to cover what modesty seeks and +ever sought to hide. Nor were their ornaments like those in use to-day, +set off by Tyrian purple, and silk tortured in endless fashions, but the +wreathed leaves of the green dock and ivy, wherewith they went as bravely +and becomingly decked as our Court dames with all the rare and +far-fetched artifices that idle curiosity has taught them. Then the +love-thoughts of the heart clothed themselves simply and naturally as the +heart conceived them, nor sought to commend themselves by forced and +rambling verbiage. Fraud, deceit, or malice had then not yet mingled with +truth and sincerity. Justice held her ground, undisturbed and unassailed +by the efforts of favour and of interest, that now so much impair, +pervert, and beset her. Arbitrary law had not yet established itself in +the mind of the judge, for then there was no cause to judge and no one to +be judged. Maidens and modesty, as I have said, wandered at will alone +and unattended, without fear of insult from lawlessness or libertine +assault, and if they were undone it was of their own will and pleasure. +But now in this hateful age of ours not one is safe, not though some new +labyrinth like that of Crete conceal and surround her; even there the +pestilence of gallantry will make its way to them through chinks or on +the air by the zeal of its accursed importunity, and, despite of all +seclusion, lead them to ruin. In defence of these, as time advanced and +wickedness increased, the order of knights-errant was instituted, to +defend maidens, to protect widows and to succour the orphans and the +needy. To this order I belong, brother goatherds, to whom I return thanks +for the hospitality and kindly welcome ye offer me and my squire; for +though by natural law all living are bound to show favour to +knights-errant, yet, seeing that without knowing this obligation ye have +welcomed and feasted me, it is right that with all the good-will in my +power I should thank you for yours." + +All this long harangue (which might very well have been spared) our +knight delivered because the acorns they gave him reminded him of the +golden age; and the whim seized him to address all this unnecessary +argument to the goatherds, who listened to him gaping in amazement +without saying a word in reply. Sancho likewise held his peace and ate +acorns, and paid repeated visits to the second wine-skin, which they had +hung up on a cork tree to keep the wine cool. + +Don Quixote was longer in talking than the supper in finishing, at the +end of which one of the goatherds said, "That your worship, senor +knight-errant, may say with more truth that we show you hospitality with +ready good-will, we will give you amusement and pleasure by making one of +our comrades sing: he will be here before long, and he is a very +intelligent youth and deep in love, and what is more he can read and +write and play on the rebeck to perfection." + +The goatherd had hardly done speaking, when the notes of the rebeck +reached their ears; and shortly after, the player came up, a very +good-looking young man of about two-and-twenty. His comrades asked him if +he had supped, and on his replying that he had, he who had already made +the offer said to him: + +"In that case, Antonio, thou mayest as well do us the pleasure of singing +a little, that the gentleman, our guest, may see that even in the +mountains and woods there are musicians: we have told him of thy +accomplishments, and we want thee to show them and prove that we say +true; so, as thou livest, pray sit down and sing that ballad about thy +love that thy uncle the prebendary made thee, and that was so much liked +in the town." + +"With all my heart," said the young man, and without waiting for more +pressing he seated himself on the trunk of a felled oak, and tuning his +rebeck, presently began to sing to these words. + +poem{ + +ANTONIO'S BALLAD + +Thou dost love me well, Olalla; + Well I know it, even though +Love's mute tongues, thine eyes, have never + By their glances told me so. + +For I know my love thou knowest, + Therefore thine to claim I dare: +Once it ceases to be secret, + Love need never feel despair. + +True it is, Olalla, sometimes + Thou hast all too plainly shown +That thy heart is brass in hardness, + And thy snowy bosom stone. + +Yet for all that, in thy coyness, + And thy fickle fits between, +Hope is there--at least the border + Of her garment may be seen. + +Lures to faith are they, those glimpses, + And to faith in thee I hold; +Kindness cannot make it stronger, + Coldness cannot make it cold. + +If it be that love is gentle, + In thy gentleness I see +Something holding out assurance + To the hope of winning thee. + +If it be that in devotion + Lies a power hearts to move, +That which every day I show thee, + Helpful to my suit should prove. + +Many a time thou must have noticed-- + If to notice thou dost care-- +How I go about on Monday + Dressed in all my Sunday wear. + +Love's eyes love to look on brightness; + Love loves what is gaily drest; +Sunday, Monday, all I care is + Thou shouldst see me in my best. + +No account I make of dances, + Or of strains that pleased thee so, +Keeping thee awake from midnight + Till the cocks began to crow; + +Or of how I roundly swore it + That there's none so fair as thou; +True it is, but as I said it, + By the girls I'm hated now. + +For Teresa of the hillside + At my praise of thee was sore; +Said, "You think you love an angel; + It's a monkey you adore; + +"Caught by all her glittering trinkets, + And her borrowed braids of hair, +And a host of made-up beauties + That would Love himself ensnare." + +'T was a lie, and so I told her, + And her cousin at the word +Gave me his defiance for it; + And what followed thou hast heard. + +Mine is no high-flown affection, + Mine no passion par amours-- +As they call it--what I offer + Is an honest love, and pure. + +Cunning cords the holy Church has, + Cords of softest silk they be; +Put thy neck beneath the yoke, dear; + Mine will follow, thou wilt see. + +Else--and once for all I swear it + By the saint of most renown-- +If I ever quit the mountains, + 'T will be in a friar's gown. + +}poem + +Here the goatherd brought his song to an end, and though Don Quixote +entreated him to sing more, Sancho had no mind that way, being more +inclined for sleep than for listening to songs; so said he to his master, +"Your worship will do well to settle at once where you mean to pass the +night, for the labour these good men are at all day does not allow them +to spend the night in singing." + +"I understand thee, Sancho," replied Don Quixote; "I perceive clearly +that those visits to the wine-skin demand compensation in sleep rather +than in music." + +"It's sweet to us all, blessed be God," said Sancho. + +"I do not deny it," replied Don Quixote; "but settle thyself where thou +wilt; those of my calling are more becomingly employed in watching than +in sleeping; still it would be as well if thou wert to dress this ear for +me again, for it is giving me more pain than it need." + +Sancho did as he bade him, but one of the goatherds, seeing the wound, +told him not to be uneasy, as he would apply a remedy with which it would +be soon healed; and gathering some leaves of rosemary, of which there was +a great quantity there, he chewed them and mixed them with a little salt, +and applying them to the ear he secured them firmly with a bandage, +assuring him that no other treatment would be required, and so it proved. + +Chapter XII. - +Of what a goatherd related to those with Don Quixote + +Just then another young man, one of those who fetched their provisions +from the village, came up and said, "Do you know what is going on in the +village, comrades?" + +"How could we know it?" replied one of them. + +"Well, then, you must know," continued the young man, "this morning that +famous student-shepherd called Chrysostom died, and it is rumoured that +he died of love for that devil of a village girl the daughter of +Guillermo the Rich, she that wanders about the wolds here in the dress of +a shepherdess." + +"You mean Marcela?" said one. + +"Her I mean," answered the goatherd; "and the best of it is, he has +directed in his will that he is to be buried in the fields like a Moor, +and at the foot of the rock where the Cork-tree spring is, because, as +the story goes (and they say he himself said so), that was the place +where he first saw her. And he has also left other directions which the +clergy of the village say should not and must not be obeyed because they +savour of paganism. To all which his great friend Ambrosio the student, +he who, like him, also went dressed as a shepherd, replies that +everything must be done without any omission according to the directions +left by Chrysostom, and about this the village is all in commotion; +however, report says that, after all, what Ambrosio and all the shepherds +his friends desire will be done, and to-morrow they are coming to bury +him with great ceremony where I said. I am sure it will be something +worth seeing; at least I will not fail to go and see it even if I knew I +should not return to the village tomorrow." + +"We will do the same," answered the goatherds, "and cast lots to see who +must stay to mind the goats of all." + +"Thou sayest well, Pedro," said one, "though there will be no need of +taking that trouble, for I will stay behind for all; and don't suppose it +is virtue or want of curiosity in me; it is that the splinter that ran +into my foot the other day will not let me walk." + +"For all that, we thank thee," answered Pedro. + +Don Quixote asked Pedro to tell him who the dead man was and who the +shepherdess, to which Pedro replied that all he knew was that the dead +man was a wealthy gentleman belonging to a village in those mountains, +who had been a student at Salamanca for many years, at the end of which +he returned to his village with the reputation of being very learned and +deeply read. "Above all, they said, he was learned in the science of the +stars and of what went on yonder in the heavens and the sun and the moon, +for he told us of the cris of the sun and moon to exact time." + +"Eclipse it is called, friend, not cris, the darkening of those two +luminaries," said Don Quixote; but Pedro, not troubling himself with +trifles, went on with his story, saying, "Also he foretold when the year +was going to be one of abundance or estility." + +"Sterility, you mean," said Don Quixote. + +"Sterility or estility," answered Pedro, "it is all the same in the end. +And I can tell you that by this his father and friends who believed him +grew very rich because they did as he advised them, bidding them 'sow +barley this year, not wheat; this year you may sow pulse and not barley; +the next there will be a full oil crop, and the three following not a +drop will be got.'" + +"That science is called astrology," said Don Quixote. + +"I do not know what it is called," replied Pedro, "but I know that he +knew all this and more besides. But, to make an end, not many months had +passed after he returned from Salamanca, when one day he appeared dressed +as a shepherd with his crook and sheepskin, having put off the long gown +he wore as a scholar; and at the same time his great friend, Ambrosio by +name, who had been his companion in his studies, took to the shepherd's +dress with him. I forgot to say that Chrysostom, who is dead, was a great +man for writing verses, so much so that he made carols for Christmas Eve, +and plays for Corpus Christi, which the young men of our village acted, +and all said they were excellent. When the villagers saw the two scholars +so unexpectedly appearing in shepherd's dress, they were lost in wonder, +and could not guess what had led them to make so extraordinary a change. +About this time the father of our Chrysostom died, and he was left heir +to a large amount of property in chattels as well as in land, no small +number of cattle and sheep, and a large sum of money, of all of which the +young man was left dissolute owner, and indeed he was deserving of it +all, for he was a very good comrade, and kind-hearted, and a friend of +worthy folk, and had a countenance like a benediction. Presently it came +to be known that he had changed his dress with no other object than to +wander about these wastes after that shepherdess Marcela our lad +mentioned a while ago, with whom the deceased Chrysostom had fallen in +love. And I must tell you now, for it is well you should know it, who +this girl is; perhaps, and even without any perhaps, you will not have +heard anything like it all the days of your life, though you should live +more years than sarna." + +"Say Sarra," said Don Quixote, unable to endure the goatherd's confusion +of words. + +"The sarna lives long enough," answered Pedro; "and if, senor, you must +go finding fault with words at every step, we shall not make an end of it +this twelvemonth." + +"Pardon me, friend," said Don Quixote; "but, as there is such a +difference between sarna and Sarra, I told you of it; however, you have +answered very rightly, for sarna lives longer than Sarra: so continue +your story, and I will not object any more to anything." + +"I say then, my dear sir," said the goatherd, "that in our village there +was a farmer even richer than the father of Chrysostom, who was named +Guillermo, and upon whom God bestowed, over and above great wealth, a +daughter at whose birth her mother died, the most respected woman there +was in this neighbourhood; I fancy I can see her now with that +countenance which had the sun on one side and the moon on the other; and +moreover active, and kind to the poor, for which I trust that at the +present moment her soul is in bliss with God in the other world. Her +husband Guillermo died of grief at the death of so good a wife, leaving +his daughter Marcela, a child and rich, to the care of an uncle of hers, +a priest and prebendary in our village. The girl grew up with such beauty +that it reminded us of her mother's, which was very great, and yet it was +thought that the daughter's would exceed it; and so when she reached the +age of fourteen to fifteen years nobody beheld her but blessed God that +had made her so beautiful, and the greater number were in love with her +past redemption. Her uncle kept her in great seclusion and retirement, +but for all that the fame of her great beauty spread so that, as well for +it as for her great wealth, her uncle was asked, solicited, and +importuned, to give her in marriage not only by those of our town but of +those many leagues round, and by the persons of highest quality in them. +But he, being a good Christian man, though he desired to give her in +marriage at once, seeing her to be old enough, was unwilling to do so +without her consent, not that he had any eye to the gain and profit which +the custody of the girl's property brought him while he put off her +marriage; and, faith, this was said in praise of the good priest in more +than one set in the town. For I would have you know, Sir Errant, that in +these little villages everything is talked about and everything is carped +at, and rest assured, as I am, that the priest must be over and above +good who forces his parishioners to speak well of him, especially in +villages." + +"That is the truth," said Don Quixote; "but go on, for the story is very +good, and you, good Pedro, tell it with very good grace." + +"May that of the Lord not be wanting to me," said Pedro; "that is the one +to have. To proceed; you must know that though the uncle put before his +niece and described to her the qualities of each one in particular of the +many who had asked her in marriage, begging her to marry and make a +choice according to her own taste, she never gave any other answer than +that she had no desire to marry just yet, and that being so young she did +not think herself fit to bear the burden of matrimony. At these, to all +appearance, reasonable excuses that she made, her uncle ceased to urge +her, and waited till she was somewhat more advanced in age and could mate +herself to her own liking. For, said he--and he said quite right--parents +are not to settle children in life against their will. But when one least +looked for it, lo and behold! one day the demure Marcela makes her +appearance turned shepherdess; and, in spite of her uncle and all those +of the town that strove to dissuade her, took to going a-field with the +other shepherd-lasses of the village, and tending her own flock. And so, +since she appeared in public, and her beauty came to be seen openly, I +could not well tell you how many rich youths, gentlemen and peasants, +have adopted the costume of Chrysostom, and go about these fields making +love to her. One of these, as has been already said, was our deceased +friend, of whom they say that he did not love but adore her. But you must +not suppose, because Marcela chose a life of such liberty and +independence, and of so little or rather no retirement, that she has +given any occasion, or even the semblance of one, for disparagement of +her purity and modesty; on the contrary, such and so great is the +vigilance with which she watches over her honour, that of all those that +court and woo her not one has boasted, or can with truth boast, that she +has given him any hope however small of obtaining his desire. For +although she does not avoid or shun the society and conversation of the +shepherds, and treats them courteously and kindly, should any one of them +come to declare his intention to her, though it be one as proper and holy +as that of matrimony, she flings him from her like a catapult. And with +this kind of disposition she does more harm in this country than if the +plague had got into it, for her affability and her beauty draw on the +hearts of those that associate with her to love her and to court her, but +her scorn and her frankness bring them to the brink of despair; and so +they know not what to say save to proclaim her aloud cruel and +hard-hearted, and other names of the same sort which well describe the +nature of her character; and if you should remain here any time, senor, +you would hear these hills and valleys resounding with the laments of the +rejected ones who pursue her. Not far from this there is a spot where +there are a couple of dozen of tall beeches, and there is not one of them +but has carved and written on its smooth bark the name of Marcela, and +above some a crown carved on the same tree as though her lover would say +more plainly that Marcela wore and deserved that of all human beauty. +Here one shepherd is sighing, there another is lamenting; there love +songs are heard, here despairing elegies. One will pass all the hours of +the night seated at the foot of some oak or rock, and there, without +having closed his weeping eyes, the sun finds him in the morning bemused +and bereft of sense; and another without relief or respite to his sighs, +stretched on the burning sand in the full heat of the sultry summer +noontide, makes his appeal to the compassionate heavens, and over one and +the other, over these and all, the beautiful Marcela triumphs free and +careless. And all of us that know her are waiting to see what her pride +will come to, and who is to be the happy man that will succeed in taming +a nature so formidable and gaining possession of a beauty so supreme. All +that I have told you being such well-established truth, I am persuaded +that what they say of the cause of Chrysostom's death, as our lad told +us, is the same. And so I advise you, senor, fail not to be present +to-morrow at his burial, which will be well worth seeing, for Chrysostom +had many friends, and it is not half a league from this place to where he +directed he should be buried." + +"I will make a point of it," said Don Quixote, "and I thank you for the +pleasure you have given me by relating so interesting a tale." + +"Oh," said the goatherd, "I do not know even the half of what has +happened to the lovers of Marcela, but perhaps to-morrow we may fall in +with some shepherd on the road who can tell us; and now it will be well +for you to go and sleep under cover, for the night air may hurt your +wound, though with the remedy I have applied to you there is no fear of +an untoward result." + +Sancho Panza, who was wishing the goatherd's loquacity at the devil, on +his part begged his master to go into Pedro's hut to sleep. He did so, +and passed all the rest of the night in thinking of his lady Dulcinea, in +imitation of the lovers of Marcela. Sancho Panza settled himself between +Rocinante and his ass, and slept, not like a lover who had been +discarded, but like a man who had been soundly kicked. + +Chapter XIII. - +In which is ended the story of the shepherdess Marcela, with other +incidents + +Bit hardly had day begun to show itself through the balconies of the +east, when five of the six goatherds came to rouse Don Quixote and tell +him that if he was still of a mind to go and see the famous burial of +Chrysostom they would bear him company. Don Quixote, who desired nothing +better, rose and ordered Sancho to saddle and pannel at once, which he +did with all despatch, and with the same they all set out forthwith. They +had not gone a quarter of a league when at the meeting of two paths they +saw coming towards them some six shepherds dressed in black sheepskins +and with their heads crowned with garlands of cypress and bitter +oleander. Each of them carried a stout holly staff in his hand, and along +with them there came two men of quality on horseback in handsome +travelling dress, with three servants on foot accompanying them. +Courteous salutations were exchanged on meeting, and inquiring one of the +other which way each party was going, they learned that all were bound +for the scene of the burial, so they went on all together. + +One of those on horseback addressing his companion said to him, "It seems +to me, Senor Vivaldo, that we may reckon as well spent the delay we shall +incur in seeing this remarkable funeral, for remarkable it cannot but be +judging by the strange things these shepherds have told us, of both the +dead shepherd and homicide shepherdess." + +"So I think too," replied Vivaldo, "and I would delay not to say a day, +but four, for the sake of seeing it." + +Don Quixote asked them what it was they had heard of Marcela and +Chrysostom. The traveller answered that the same morning they had met +these shepherds, and seeing them dressed in this mournful fashion they +had asked them the reason of their appearing in such a guise; which one +of them gave, describing the strange behaviour and beauty of a +shepherdess called Marcela, and the loves of many who courted her, +together with the death of that Chrysostom to whose burial they were +going. In short, he repeated all that Pedro had related to Don Quixote. + +This conversation dropped, and another was commenced by him who was +called Vivaldo asking Don Quixote what was the reason that led him to go +armed in that fashion in a country so peaceful. To which Don Quixote +replied, "The pursuit of my calling does not allow or permit me to go in +any other fashion; easy life, enjoyment, and repose were invented for +soft courtiers, but toil, unrest, and arms were invented and made for +those alone whom the world calls knights-errant, of whom I, though +unworthy, am the least of all." + +The instant they heard this all set him down as mad, and the better to +settle the point and discover what kind of madness his was, Vivaldo +proceeded to ask him what knights-errant meant. + +"Have not your worships," replied Don Quixote, "read the annals and +histories of England, in which are recorded the famous deeds of King +Arthur, whom we in our popular Castilian invariably call King Artus, with +regard to whom it is an ancient tradition, and commonly received all over +that kingdom of Great Britain, that this king did not die, but was +changed by magic art into a raven, and that in process of time he is to +return to reign and recover his kingdom and sceptre; for which reason it +cannot be proved that from that time to this any Englishman ever killed a +raven? Well, then, in the time of this good king that famous order of +chivalry of the Knights of the Round Table was instituted, and the amour +of Don Lancelot of the Lake with the Queen Guinevere occurred, precisely +as is there related, the go-between and confidante therein being the +highly honourable dame Quintanona, whence came that ballad so well known +and widely spread in our Spain-- + +poem{ + +O never surely was there knight + So served by hand of dame, +As served was he Sir Lancelot hight + When he from Britain came-- + +}poem + +with all the sweet and delectable course of his achievements in love and +war. Handed down from that time, then, this order of chivalry went on +extending and spreading itself over many and various parts of the world; +and in it, famous and renowned for their deeds, were the mighty Amadis of +Gaul with all his sons and descendants to the fifth generation, and the +valiant Felixmarte of Hircania, and the never sufficiently praised +Tirante el Blanco, and in our own days almost we have seen and heard and +talked with the invincible knight Don Belianis of Greece. This, then, +sirs, is to be a knight-errant, and what I have spoken of is the order of +his chivalry, of which, as I have already said, I, though a sinner, have +made profession, and what the aforesaid knights professed that same do I +profess, and so I go through these solitudes and wilds seeking +adventures, resolved in soul to oppose my arm and person to the most +perilous that fortune may offer me in aid of the weak and needy." + +By these words of his the travellers were able to satisfy themselves of +Don Quixote's being out of his senses and of the form of madness that +overmastered him, at which they felt the same astonishment that all felt +on first becoming acquainted with it; and Vivaldo, who was a person of +great shrewdness and of a lively temperament, in order to beguile the +short journey which they said was required to reach the mountain, the +scene of the burial, sought to give him an opportunity of going on with +his absurdities. So he said to him, "It seems to me, Senor Knight-errant, +that your worship has made choice of one of the most austere professions +in the world, and I imagine even that of the Carthusian monks is not so +austere." + +"As austere it may perhaps be," replied our Don Quixote, "but so +necessary for the world I am very much inclined to doubt. For, if the +truth is to be told, the soldier who executes what his captain orders +does no less than the captain himself who gives the order. My meaning, +is, that churchmen in peace and quiet pray to Heaven for the welfare of +the world, but we soldiers and knights carry into effect what they pray +for, defending it with the might of our arms and the edge of our swords, +not under shelter but in the open air, a target for the intolerable rays +of the sun in summer and the piercing frosts of winter. Thus are we God's +ministers on earth and the arms by which his justice is done therein. And +as the business of war and all that relates and belongs to it cannot be +conducted without exceeding great sweat, toil, and exertion, it follows +that those who make it their profession have undoubtedly more labour than +those who in tranquil peace and quiet are engaged in praying to God to +help the weak. I do not mean to say, nor does it enter into my thoughts, +that the knight-errant's calling is as good as that of the monk in his +cell; I would merely infer from what I endure myself that it is beyond a +doubt a more laborious and a more belaboured one, a hungrier and +thirstier, a wretcheder, raggeder, and lousier; for there is no reason to +doubt that the knights-errant of yore endured much hardship in the course +of their lives. And if some of them by the might of their arms did rise +to be emperors, in faith it cost them dear in the matter of blood and +sweat; and if those who attained to that rank had not had magicians and +sages to help them they would have been completely baulked in their +ambition and disappointed in their hopes." + +"That is my own opinion," replied the traveller; "but one thing among +many others seems to me very wrong in knights-errant, and that is that +when they find themselves about to engage in some mighty and perilous +adventure in which there is manifest danger of losing their lives, they +never at the moment of engaging in it think of commending themselves to +God, as is the duty of every good Christian in like peril; instead of +which they commend themselves to their ladies with as much devotion as if +these were their gods, a thing which seems to me to savour somewhat of +heathenism." + +"Sir," answered Don Quixote, "that cannot be on any account omitted, and +the knight-errant would be disgraced who acted otherwise: for it is usual +and customary in knight-errantry that the knight-errant, who on engaging +in any great feat of arms has his lady before him, should turn his eyes +towards her softly and lovingly, as though with them entreating her to +favour and protect him in the hazardous venture he is about to undertake, +and even though no one hear him, he is bound to say certain words between +his teeth, commending himself to her with all his heart, and of this we +have innumerable instances in the histories. Nor is it to be supposed +from this that they are to omit commending themselves to God, for there +will be time and opportunity for doing so while they are engaged in their +task." + +"For all that," answered the traveller, "I feel some doubt still, because +often I have read how words will arise between two knights-errant, and +from one thing to another it comes about that their anger kindles and +they wheel their horses round and take a good stretch of field, and then +without any more ado at the top of their speed they come to the charge, +and in mid-career they are wont to commend themselves to their ladies; +and what commonly comes of the encounter is that one falls over the +haunches of his horse pierced through and through by his antagonist's +lance, and as for the other, it is only by holding on to the mane of his +horse that he can help falling to the ground; but I know not how the dead +man had time to commend himself to God in the course of such rapid work +as this; it would have been better if those words which he spent in +commending himself to his lady in the midst of his career had been +devoted to his duty and obligation as a Christian. Moreover, it is my +belief that all knights-errant have not ladies to commend themselves to, +for they are not all in love." + +"That is impossible," said Don Quixote: "I say it is impossible that +there could be a knight-errant without a lady, because to such it is as +natural and proper to be in love as to the heavens to have stars: most +certainly no history has been seen in which there is to be found a +knight-errant without an amour, and for the simple reason that without +one he would be held no legitimate knight but a bastard, and one who had +gained entrance into the stronghold of the said knighthood, not by the +door, but over the wall like a thief and a robber." + +"Nevertheless," said the traveller, "if I remember rightly, I think I +have read that Don Galaor, the brother of the valiant Amadis of Gaul, +never had any special lady to whom he might commend himself, and yet he +was not the less esteemed, and was a very stout and famous knight." + +To which our Don Quixote made answer, "Sir, one solitary swallow does not +make summer; moreover, I know that knight was in secret very deeply in +love; besides which, that way of falling in love with all that took his +fancy was a natural propensity which he could not control. But, in short, +it is very manifest that he had one alone whom he made mistress of his +will, to whom he commended himself very frequently and very secretly, for +he prided himself on being a reticent knight." + +"Then if it be essential that every knight-errant should be in love," +said the traveller, "it may be fairly supposed that your worship is so, +as you are of the order; and if you do not pride yourself on being as +reticent as Don Galaor, I entreat you as earnestly as I can, in the name +of all this company and in my own, to inform us of the name, country, +rank, and beauty of your lady, for she will esteem herself fortunate if +all the world knows that she is loved and served by such a knight as your +worship seems to be." + +At this Don Quixote heaved a deep sigh and said, "I cannot say positively +whether my sweet enemy is pleased or not that the world should know I +serve her; I can only say in answer to what has been so courteously asked +of me, that her name is Dulcinea, her country El Toboso, a village of La +Mancha, her rank must be at least that of a princess, since she is my +queen and lady, and her beauty superhuman, since all the impossible and +fanciful attributes of beauty which the poets apply to their ladies are +verified in her; for her hairs are gold, her forehead Elysian fields, her +eyebrows rainbows, her eyes suns, her cheeks roses, her lips coral, her +teeth pearls, her neck alabaster, her bosom marble, her hands ivory, her +fairness snow, and what modesty conceals from sight such, I think and +imagine, as rational reflection can only extol, not compare." + +"We should like to know her lineage, race, and ancestry," said Vivaldo. + +To which Don Quixote replied, "She is not of the ancient Roman Curtii, +Caii, or Scipios, nor of the modern Colonnas or Orsini, nor of the +Moncadas or Requesenes of Catalonia, nor yet of the Rebellas or +Villanovas of Valencia; Palafoxes, Nuzas, Rocabertis, Corellas, Lunas, +Alagones, Urreas, Foces, or Gurreas of Aragon; Cerdas, Manriques, +Mendozas, or Guzmans of Castile; Alencastros, Pallas, or Meneses of +Portugal; but she is of those of El Toboso of La Mancha, a lineage that +though modern, may furnish a source of gentle blood for the most +illustrious families of the ages that are to come, and this let none +dispute with me save on the condition that Zerbino placed at the foot of +the trophy of Orlando's arms, saying, + +'These let none move Who dareth not his might with Roland prove.'" + +"Although mine is of the Cachopins of Laredo," said the traveller, "I +will not venture to compare it with that of El Toboso of La Mancha, +though, to tell the truth, no such surname has until now ever reached my +ears." + +"What!" said Don Quixote, "has that never reached them?" + +The rest of the party went along listening with great attention to the +conversation of the pair, and even the very goatherds and shepherds +perceived how exceedingly out of his wits our Don Quixote was. Sancho +Panza alone thought that what his master said was the truth, knowing who +he was and having known him from his birth; and all that he felt any +difficulty in believing was that about the fair Dulcinea del Toboso, +because neither any such name nor any such princess had ever come to his +knowledge though he lived so close to El Toboso. They were going along +conversing in this way, when they saw descending a gap between two high +mountains some twenty shepherds, all clad in sheepskins of black wool, +and crowned with garlands which, as afterwards appeared, were, some of +them of yew, some of cypress. Six of the number were carrying a bier +covered with a great variety of flowers and branches, on seeing which one +of the goatherds said, "Those who come there are the bearers of +Chrysostom's body, and the foot of that mountain is the place where he +ordered them to bury him." They therefore made haste to reach the spot, +and did so by the time those who came had laid the bier upon the ground, +and four of them with sharp pickaxes were digging a grave by the side of +a hard rock. They greeted each other courteously, and then Don Quixote +and those who accompanied him turned to examine the bier, and on it, +covered with flowers, they saw a dead body in the dress of a shepherd, to +all appearance of one thirty years of age, and showing even in death that +in life he had been of comely features and gallant bearing. Around him on +the bier itself were laid some books, and several papers open and folded; +and those who were looking on as well as those who were opening the grave +and all the others who were there preserved a strange silence, until one +of those who had borne the body said to another, "Observe carefully, +Ambrosia if this is the place Chrysostom spoke of, since you are anxious +that what he directed in his will should be so strictly complied with." + +"This is the place," answered Ambrosia "for in it many a time did my poor +friend tell me the story of his hard fortune. Here it was, he told me, +that he saw for the first time that mortal enemy of the human race, and +here, too, for the first time he declared to her his passion, as +honourable as it was devoted, and here it was that at last Marcela ended +by scorning and rejecting him so as to bring the tragedy of his wretched +life to a close; here, in memory of misfortunes so great, he desired to +be laid in the bowels of eternal oblivion." Then turning to Don Quixote +and the travellers he went on to say, "That body, sirs, on which you are +looking with compassionate eyes, was the abode of a soul on which Heaven +bestowed a vast share of its riches. That is the body of Chrysostom, who +was unrivalled in wit, unequalled in courtesy, unapproached in gentle +bearing, a phoenix in friendship, generous without limit, grave without +arrogance, gay without vulgarity, and, in short, first in all that +constitutes goodness and second to none in all that makes up misfortune. +He loved deeply, he was hated; he adored, he was scorned; he wooed a wild +beast, he pleaded with marble, he pursued the wind, he cried to the +wilderness, he served ingratitude, and for reward was made the prey of +death in the mid-course of life, cut short by a shepherdess whom he +sought to immortalise in the memory of man, as these papers which you see +could fully prove, had he not commanded me to consign them to the fire +after having consigned his body to the earth." + +"You would deal with them more harshly and cruelly than their owner +himself," said Vivaldo, "for it is neither right nor proper to do the +will of one who enjoins what is wholly unreasonable; it would not have +been reasonable in Augustus Caesar had he permitted the directions left +by the divine Mantuan in his will to be carried into effect. So that, +Senor Ambrosia while you consign your friend's body to the earth, you +should not consign his writings to oblivion, for if he gave the order in +bitterness of heart, it is not right that you should irrationally obey +it. On the contrary, by granting life to those papers, let the cruelty of +Marcela live for ever, to serve as a warning in ages to come to all men +to shun and avoid falling into like danger; or I and all of us who have +come here know already the story of this your love-stricken and +heart-broken friend, and we know, too, your friendship, and the cause of +his death, and the directions he gave at the close of his life; from +which sad story may be gathered how great was the cruelty of Marcela, the +love of Chrysostom, and the loyalty of your friendship, together with the +end awaiting those who pursue rashly the path that insane passion opens +to their eyes. Last night we learned the death of Chrysostom and that he +was to be buried here, and out of curiosity and pity we left our direct +road and resolved to come and see with our eyes that which when heard of +had so moved our compassion, and in consideration of that compassion and +our desire to prove it if we might by condolence, we beg of you, +excellent Ambrosia, or at least I on my own account entreat you, that +instead of burning those papers you allow me to carry away some of them." + +And without waiting for the shepherd's answer, he stretched out his hand +and took up some of those that were nearest to him; seeing which Ambrosio +said, "Out of courtesy, senor, I will grant your request as to those you +have taken, but it is idle to expect me to abstain from burning the +remainder." + +Vivaldo, who was eager to see what the papers contained, opened one of +them at once, and saw that its title was "Lay of Despair." + +Ambrosio hearing it said, "That is the last paper the unhappy man wrote; +and that you may see, senor, to what an end his misfortunes brought him, +read it so that you may be heard, for you will have time enough for that +while we are waiting for the grave to be dug." + +"I will do so very willingly," said Vivaldo; and as all the bystanders +were equally eager they gathered round him, and he, reading in a loud +voice, found that it ran as follows. + +Chapter XIV. - +Wherein are inserted the despairing verses of the dead shepherd, together +with other incidents not looked for + +poem{ + +THE LAY OF CHRYSOSTOM + + Since thou dost in thy cruelty desire +The ruthless rigour of thy tyranny +From tongue to tongue, from land to land proclaimed, +The very Hell will I constrain to lend +This stricken breast of mine deep notes of woe +To serve my need of fitting utterance. +And as I strive to body forth the tale +Of all I suffer, all that thou hast done, +Forth shall the dread voice roll, and bear along +Shreds from my vitals torn for greater pain. +Then listen, not to dulcet harmony, +But to a discord wrung by mad despair +Out of this bosom's depths of bitterness, +To ease my heart and plant a sting in thine. + + The lion's roar, the fierce wolf's savage howl, +The horrid hissing of the scaly snake, +The awesome cries of monsters yet unnamed, +The crow's ill-boding croak, the hollow moan +Of wild winds wrestling with the restless sea, +The wrathful bellow of the vanquished bull, +The plaintive sobbing of the widowed dove, +The envied owl's sad note, the wail of woe +That rises from the dreary choir of Hell, +Commingled in one sound, confusing sense, +Let all these come to aid my soul's complaint, +For pain like mine demands new modes of song. + + No echoes of that discord shall be heard +Where Father Tagus rolls, or on the banks +Of olive-bordered Betis; to the rocks +Or in deep caverns shall my plaint be told, +And by a lifeless tongue in living words; +Or in dark valleys or on lonely shores, +Where neither foot of man nor sunbeam falls; +Or in among the poison-breathing swarms +Of monsters nourished by the sluggish Nile. +For, though it be to solitudes remote +The hoarse vague echoes of my sorrows sound +Thy matchless cruelty, my dismal fate +Shall carry them to all the spacious world. + + Disdain hath power to kill, and patience dies +Slain by suspicion, be it false or true; +And deadly is the force of jealousy; +Long absence makes of life a dreary void; +No hope of happiness can give repose +To him that ever fears to be forgot; +And death, inevitable, waits in hall. +But I, by some strange miracle, live on +A prey to absence, jealousy, disdain; +Racked by suspicion as by certainty; +Forgotten, left to feed my flame alone. +And while I suffer thus, there comes no ray +Of hope to gladden me athwart the gloom; +Nor do I look for it in my despair; +But rather clinging to a cureless woe, +All hope do I abjure for evermore. + + Can there be hope where fear is? Were it well, +When far more certain are the grounds of fear? +Ought I to shut mine eyes to jealousy, +If through a thousand heart-wounds it appears? +Who would not give free access to distrust, +Seeing disdain unveiled, and--bitter change!-- +All his suspicions turned to certainties, +And the fair truth transformed into a lie? +Oh, thou fierce tyrant of the realms of love, +Oh, Jealousy! put chains upon these hands, +And bind me with thy strongest cord, Disdain. +But, woe is me! triumphant over all, +My sufferings drown the memory of you. + + And now I die, and since there is no hope +Of happiness for me in life or death, +Still to my fantasy I'll fondly cling. +I'll say that he is wise who loveth well, +And that the soul most free is that most bound +In thraldom to the ancient tyrant Love. +I'll say that she who is mine enemy +In that fair body hath as fair a mind, +And that her coldness is but my desert, +And that by virtue of the pain he sends +Love rules his kingdom with a gentle sway. +Thus, self-deluding, and in bondage sore, +And wearing out the wretched shred of life +To which I am reduced by her disdain, +I'll give this soul and body to the winds, +All hopeless of a crown of bliss in store. + + Thou whose injustice hath supplied the cause +That makes me quit the weary life I loathe, +As by this wounded bosom thou canst see +How willingly thy victim I become, +Let not my death, if haply worth a tear, +Cloud the clear heaven that dwells in thy bright eyes; +I would not have thee expiate in aught +The crime of having made my heart thy prey; +But rather let thy laughter gaily ring +And prove my death to be thy festival. +Fool that I am to bid thee! well I know +Thy glory gains by my untimely end. + + And now it is the time; from Hell's abyss +Come thirsting Tantalus, come Sisyphus +Heaving the cruel stone, come Tityus +With vulture, and with wheel Ixion come, +And come the sisters of the ceaseless toil; +And all into this breast transfer their pains, +And (if such tribute to despair be due) +Chant in their deepest tones a doleful dirge +Over a corse unworthy of a shroud. +Let the three-headed guardian of the gate, +And all the monstrous progeny of hell, +The doleful concert join: a lover dead +Methinks can have no fitter obsequies. + + Lay of despair, grieve not when thou art gone +Forth from this sorrowing heart: my misery +Brings fortune to the cause that gave thee birth; +Then banish sadness even in the tomb. + +}poem + +The "Lay of Chrysostom" met with the approbation of the listeners, though +the reader said it did not seem to him to agree with what he had heard of +Marcela's reserve and propriety, for Chrysostom complained in it of +jealousy, suspicion, and absence, all to the prejudice of the good name +and fame of Marcela; to which Ambrosio replied as one who knew well his +friend's most secret thoughts, "Senor, to remove that doubt I should tell +you that when the unhappy man wrote this lay he was away from Marcela, +from whom he had voluntarily separated himself, to try if absence would +act with him as it is wont; and as everything distresses and every fear +haunts the banished lover, so imaginary jealousies and suspicions, +dreaded as if they were true, tormented Chrysostom; and thus the truth of +what report declares of the virtue of Marcela remains unshaken, and with +her envy itself should not and cannot find any fault save that of being +cruel, somewhat haughty, and very scornful." + +"That is true," said Vivaldo; and as he was about to read another paper +of those he had preserved from the fire, he was stopped by a marvellous +vision (for such it seemed) that unexpectedly presented itself to their +eyes; for on the summit of the rock where they were digging the grave +there appeared the shepherdess Marcela, so beautiful that her beauty +exceeded its reputation. Those who had never till then beheld her gazed +upon her in wonder and silence, and those who were accustomed to see her +were not less amazed than those who had never seen her before. But the +instant Ambrosio saw her he addressed her, with manifest indignation: + +"Art thou come, by chance, cruel basilisk of these mountains, to see if +in thy presence blood will flow from the wounds of this wretched being +thy cruelty has robbed of life; or is it to exult over the cruel work of +thy humours that thou art come; or like another pitiless Nero to look +down from that height upon the ruin of his Rome in embers; or in thy +arrogance to trample on this ill-fated corpse, as the ungrateful daughter +trampled on her father Tarquin's? Tell us quickly for what thou art come, +or what it is thou wouldst have, for, as I know the thoughts of +Chrysostom never failed to obey thee in life, I will make all these who +call themselves his friends obey thee, though he be dead." + +"I come not, Ambrosia for any of the purposes thou hast named," replied +Marcela, "but to defend myself and to prove how unreasonable are all +those who blame me for their sorrow and for Chrysostom's death; and +therefore I ask all of you that are here to give me your attention, for +will not take much time or many words to bring the truth home to persons +of sense. Heaven has made me, so you say, beautiful, and so much so that +in spite of yourselves my beauty leads you to love me; and for the love +you show me you say, and even urge, that I am bound to love you. By that +natural understanding which God has given me I know that everything +beautiful attracts love, but I cannot see how, by reason of being loved, +that which is loved for its beauty is bound to love that which loves it; +besides, it may happen that the lover of that which is beautiful may be +ugly, and ugliness being detestable, it is very absurd to say, "I love +thee because thou art beautiful, thou must love me though I be ugly." But +supposing the beauty equal on both sides, it does not follow that the +inclinations must be therefore alike, for it is not every beauty that +excites love, some but pleasing the eye without winning the affection; +and if every sort of beauty excited love and won the heart, the will +would wander vaguely to and fro unable to make choice of any; for as +there is an infinity of beautiful objects there must be an infinity of +inclinations, and true love, I have heard it said, is indivisible, and +must be voluntary and not compelled. If this be so, as I believe it to +be, why do you desire me to bend my will by force, for no other reason +but that you say you love me? Nay--tell me--had Heaven made me ugly, as it +has made me beautiful, could I with justice complain of you for not +loving me? Moreover, you must remember that the beauty I possess was no +choice of mine, for, be it what it may, Heaven of its bounty gave it me +without my asking or choosing it; and as the viper, though it kills with +it, does not deserve to be blamed for the poison it carries, as it is a +gift of nature, neither do I deserve reproach for being beautiful; for +beauty in a modest woman is like fire at a distance or a sharp sword; the +one does not burn, the other does not cut, those who do not come too +near. Honour and virtue are the ornaments of the mind, without which the +body, though it be so, has no right to pass for beautiful; but if modesty +is one of the virtues that specially lend a grace and charm to mind and +body, why should she who is loved for her beauty part with it to gratify +one who for his pleasure alone strives with all his might and energy to +rob her of it? I was born free, and that I might live in freedom I chose +the solitude of the fields; in the trees of the mountains I find society, +the clear waters of the brooks are my mirrors, and to the trees and +waters I make known my thoughts and charms. I am a fire afar off, a sword +laid aside. Those whom I have inspired with love by letting them see me, +I have by words undeceived, and if their longings live on hope--and I +have given none to Chrysostom or to any other--it cannot justly be said +that the death of any is my doing, for it was rather his own obstinacy +than my cruelty that killed him; and if it be made a charge against me +that his wishes were honourable, and that therefore I was bound to yield +to them, I answer that when on this very spot where now his grave is made +he declared to me his purity of purpose, I told him that mine was to live +in perpetual solitude, and that the earth alone should enjoy the fruits +of my retirement and the spoils of my beauty; and if, after this open +avowal, he chose to persist against hope and steer against the wind, what +wonder is it that he should sink in the depths of his infatuation? If I +had encouraged him, I should be false; if I had gratified him, I should +have acted against my own better resolution and purpose. He was +persistent in spite of warning, he despaired without being hated. Bethink +you now if it be reasonable that his suffering should be laid to my +charge. Let him who has been deceived complain, let him give way to +despair whose encouraged hopes have proved vain, let him flatter himself +whom I shall entice, let him boast whom I shall receive; but let not him +call me cruel or homicide to whom I make no promise, upon whom I practise +no deception, whom I neither entice nor receive. It has not been so far +the will of Heaven that I should love by fate, and to expect me to love +by choice is idle. Let this general declaration serve for each of my +suitors on his own account, and let it be understood from this time forth +that if anyone dies for me it is not of jealousy or misery he dies, for +she who loves no one can give no cause for jealousy to any, and candour +is not to be confounded with scorn. Let him who calls me wild beast and +basilisk, leave me alone as something noxious and evil; let him who calls +me ungrateful, withhold his service; who calls me wayward, seek not my +acquaintance; who calls me cruel, pursue me not; for this wild beast, +this basilisk, this ungrateful, cruel, wayward being has no kind of +desire to seek, serve, know, or follow them. If Chrysostom's impatience +and violent passion killed him, why should my modest behaviour and +circumspection be blamed? If I preserve my purity in the society of the +trees, why should he who would have me preserve it among men, seek to rob +me of it? I have, as you know, wealth of my own, and I covet not that of +others; my taste is for freedom, and I have no relish for constraint; I +neither love nor hate anyone; I do not deceive this one or court that, or +trifle with one or play with another. The modest converse of the shepherd +girls of these hamlets and the care of my goats are my recreations; my +desires are bounded by these mountains, and if they ever wander hence it +is to contemplate the beauty of the heavens, steps by which the soul +travels to its primeval abode." + +With these words, and not waiting to hear a reply, she turned and passed +into the thickest part of a wood that was hard by, leaving all who were +there lost in admiration as much of her good sense as of her beauty. +Some--those wounded by the irresistible shafts launched by her bright +eyes--made as though they would follow her, heedless of the frank +declaration they had heard; seeing which, and deeming this a fitting +occasion for the exercise of his chivalry in aid of distressed damsels, +Don Quixote, laying his hand on the hilt of his sword, exclaimed in a +loud and distinct voice: + +"Let no one, whatever his rank or condition, dare to follow the beautiful +Marcela, under pain of incurring my fierce indignation. She has shown by +clear and satisfactory arguments that little or no fault is to be found +with her for the death of Chrysostom, and also how far she is from +yielding to the wishes of any of her lovers, for which reason, instead of +being followed and persecuted, she should in justice be honoured and +esteemed by all the good people of the world, for she shows that she is +the only woman in it that holds to such a virtuous resolution." + +Whether it was because of the threats of Don Quixote, or because Ambrosio +told them to fulfil their duty to their good friend, none of the +shepherds moved or stirred from the spot until, having finished the grave +and burned Chrysostom's papers, they laid his body in it, not without +many tears from those who stood by. They closed the grave with a heavy +stone until a slab was ready which Ambrosio said he meant to have +prepared, with an epitaph which was to be to this effect: + +poem{ + +Beneath the stone before your eyes +The body of a lover lies; +In life he was a shepherd swain, +In death a victim to disdain. +Ungrateful, cruel, coy, and fair, +Was she that drove him to despair, +And Love hath made her his ally +For spreading wide his tyranny. + +}poem + +They then strewed upon the grave a profusion of flowers and branches, and +all expressing their condolence with his friend ambrosio, took their +Vivaldo and his companion did the same; and Don Quixote bade farewell to +his hosts and to the travellers, who pressed him to come with them to +Seville, as being such a convenient place for finding adventures, for +they presented themselves in every street and round every corner oftener +than anywhere else. Don Quixote thanked them for their advice and for the +disposition they showed to do him a favour, and said that for the present +he would not, and must not go to Seville until he had cleared all these +mountains of highwaymen and robbers, of whom report said they were full. +Seeing his good intention, the travellers were unwilling to press him +further, and once more bidding him farewell, they left him and pursued +their journey, in the course of which they did not fail to discuss the +story of Marcela and Chrysostom as well as the madness of Don Quixote. +He, on his part, resolved to go in quest of the shepherdess Marcela, and +make offer to her of all the service he could render her; but things did +not fall out with him as he expected, according to what is related in the +course of this veracious history, of which the Second Part ends here. + +Chapter XV. - +In which is related the unfortunate adventure that Don Quixote fell in +with when he fell out with certain heartless Yanguesans + +The sage Cide Hamete Benengeli relates that as soon as Don Quixote took +leave of his hosts and all who had been present at the burial of +Chrysostom, he and his squire passed into the same wood which they had +seen the shepherdess Marcela enter, and after having wandered for more +than two hours in all directions in search of her without finding her, +they came to a halt in a glade covered with tender grass, beside which +ran a pleasant cool stream that invited and compelled them to pass there +the hours of the noontide heat, which by this time was beginning to come +on oppressively. Don Quixote and Sancho dismounted, and turning Rocinante +and the ass loose to feed on the grass that was there in abundance, they +ransacked the alforjas, and without any ceremony very peacefully and +sociably master and man made their repast on what they found in them. + +Sancho had not thought it worth while to hobble Rocinante, feeling sure, +from what he knew of his staidness and freedom from incontinence, that +all the mares in the Cordova pastures would not lead him into an +impropriety. Chance, however, and the devil, who is not always asleep, so +ordained it that feeding in this valley there was a drove of Galician +ponies belonging to certain Yanguesan carriers, whose way it is to take +their midday rest with their teams in places and spots where grass and +water abound; and that where Don Quixote chanced to be suited the +Yanguesans' purpose very well. It so happened, then, that Rocinante took +a fancy to disport himself with their ladyships the ponies, and +abandoning his usual gait and demeanour as he scented them, he, without +asking leave of his master, got up a briskish little trot and hastened to +make known his wishes to them; they, however, it seemed, preferred their +pasture to him, and received him with their heels and teeth to such +effect that they soon broke his girths and left him naked without a +saddle to cover him; but what must have been worse to him was that the +carriers, seeing the violence he was offering to their mares, came +running up armed with stakes, and so belaboured him that they brought him +sorely battered to the ground. + +By this time Don Quixote and Sancho, who had witnessed the drubbing of +Rocinante, came up panting, and said Don Quixote to Sancho: + +"So far as I can see, friend Sancho, these are not knights but base folk +of low birth: I mention it because thou canst lawfully aid me in taking +due vengeance for the insult offered to Rocinante before our eyes." + +"What the devil vengeance can we take," answered Sancho, "if they are +more than twenty, and we no more than two, or, indeed, perhaps not more +than one and a half?" + +"I count for a hundred," replied Don Quixote, and without more words he +drew his sword and attacked the Yanguesans and excited and impelled by +the example of his master, Sancho did the same; and to begin with, Don +Quixote delivered a slash at one of them that laid open the leather +jerkin he wore, together with a great portion of his shoulder. The +Yanguesans, seeing themselves assaulted by only two men while they were +so many, betook themselves to their stakes, and driving the two into the +middle they began to lay on with great zeal and energy; in fact, at the +second blow they brought Sancho to the ground, and Don Quixote fared the +same way, all his skill and high mettle availing him nothing, and fate +willed it that he should fall at the feet of Rocinante, who had not yet +risen; whereby it may be seen how furiously stakes can pound in angry +boorish hands. + +Then, seeing the mischief they had done, the Yanguesans with all the +haste they could loaded their team and pursued their journey, leaving the +two adventurers a sorry sight and in sorrier mood. + +Sancho was the first to come to, and finding himself close to his master +he called to him in a weak and doleful voice, "Senor Don Quixote, ah, +Senor Don Quixote!" + +"What wouldst thou, brother Sancho?" answered Don Quixote in the same +feeble suffering tone as Sancho. + +"I would like, if it were possible," answered Sancho Panza, "your worship +to give me a couple of sups of that potion of the fiery Blas, if it be +that you have any to hand there; perhaps it will serve for broken bones +as well as for wounds." + +"If I only had it here, wretch that I am, what more should we want?" said +Don Quixote; "but I swear to thee, Sancho Panza, on the faith of a +knight-errant, ere two days are over, unless fortune orders otherwise, I +mean to have it in my possession, or my hand will have lost its cunning." + +"But in how many does your worship think we shall have the use of our +feet?" answered Sancho Panza. + +"For myself I must say I cannot guess how many," said the battered knight +Don Quixote; "but I take all the blame upon myself, for I had no business +to put hand to sword against men who where not dubbed knights like +myself, and so I believe that in punishment for having transgressed the +laws of chivalry the God of battles has permitted this chastisement to be +administered to me; for which reason, brother Sancho, it is well thou +shouldst receive a hint on the matter which I am now about to mention to +thee, for it is of much importance to the welfare of both of us. It is at +when thou shalt see rabble of this sort offering us insult thou art not +to wait till I draw sword against them, for I shall not do so at all; but +do thou draw sword and chastise them to thy heart's content, and if any +knights come to their aid and defence I will take care to defend thee and +assail them with all my might; and thou hast already seen by a thousand +signs and proofs what the might of this strong arm of mine is equal +to"--so uplifted had the poor gentleman become through the victory over +the stout Biscayan. + +But Sancho did not so fully approve of his master's admonition as to let +it pass without saying in reply, "Senor, I am a man of peace, meek and +quiet, and I can put up with any affront because I have a wife and +children to support and bring up; so let it be likewise a hint to your +worship, as it cannot be a mandate, that on no account will I draw sword +either against clown or against knight, and that here before God I +forgive the insults that have been offered me, whether they have been, +are, or shall be offered me by high or low, rich or poor, noble or +commoner, not excepting any rank or condition whatsoever." + +To all which his master said in reply, "I wish I had breath enough to +speak somewhat easily, and that the pain I feel on this side would abate +so as to let me explain to thee, Panza, the mistake thou makest. Come +now, sinner, suppose the wind of fortune, hitherto so adverse, should +turn in our favour, filling the sails of our desires so that safely and +without impediment we put into port in some one of those islands I have +promised thee, how would it be with thee if on winning it I made thee +lord of it? Why, thou wilt make it well-nigh impossible through not being +a knight nor having any desire to be one, nor possessing the courage nor +the will to avenge insults or defend thy lordship; for thou must know +that in newly conquered kingdoms and provinces the minds of the +inhabitants are never so quiet nor so well disposed to the new lord that +there is no fear of their making some move to change matters once more, +and try, as they say, what chance may do for them; so it is essential +that the new possessor should have good sense to enable him to govern, +and valour to attack and defend himself, whatever may befall him." + +"In what has now befallen us," answered Sancho, "I'd have been well +pleased to have that good sense and that valour your worship speaks of, +but I swear on the faith of a poor man I am more fit for plasters than +for arguments. See if your worship can get up, and let us help Rocinante, +though he does not deserve it, for he was the main cause of all this +thrashing. I never thought it of Rocinante, for I took him to be a +virtuous person and as quiet as myself. After all, they say right that it +takes a long time to come to know people, and that there is nothing sure +in this life. Who would have said that, after such mighty slashes as your +worship gave that unlucky knight-errant, there was coming, travelling +post and at the very heels of them, such a great storm of sticks as has +fallen upon our shoulders?" + +"And yet thine, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "ought to be used to such +squalls; but mine, reared in soft cloth and fine linen, it is plain they +must feel more keenly the pain of this mishap, and if it were not that I +imagine--why do I say imagine?--know of a certainty that all these +annoyances are very necessary accompaniments of the calling of arms, I +would lay me down here to die of pure vexation." + +To this the squire replied, "Senor, as these mishaps are what one reaps +of chivalry, tell me if they happen very often, or if they have their own +fixed times for coming to pass; because it seems to me that after two +harvests we shall be no good for the third, unless God in his infinite +mercy helps us." + +"Know, friend Sancho," answered Don Quixote, "that the life of +knights-errant is subject to a thousand dangers and reverses, and neither +more nor less is it within immediate possibility for knights-errant to +become kings and emperors, as experience has shown in the case of many +different knights with whose histories I am thoroughly acquainted; and I +could tell thee now, if the pain would let me, of some who simply by +might of arm have risen to the high stations I have mentioned; and those +same, both before and after, experienced divers misfortunes and miseries; +for the valiant Amadis of Gaul found himself in the power of his mortal +enemy Arcalaus the magician, who, it is positively asserted, holding him +captive, gave him more than two hundred lashes with the reins of his +horse while tied to one of the pillars of a court; and moreover there is +a certain recondite author of no small authority who says that the Knight +of Phoebus, being caught in a certain pitfall, which opened under his +feet in a certain castle, on falling found himself bound hand and foot in +a deep pit underground, where they administered to him one of those +things they call clysters, of sand and snow-water, that well-nigh +finished him; and if he had not been succoured in that sore extremity by +a sage, a great friend of his, it would have gone very hard with the poor +knight; so I may well suffer in company with such worthy folk, for +greater were the indignities which they had to suffer than those which we +suffer. For I would have thee know, Sancho, that wounds caused by any +instruments which happen by chance to be in hand inflict no indignity, +and this is laid down in the law of the duel in express words: if, for +instance, the cobbler strikes another with the last which he has in his +hand, though it be in fact a piece of wood, it cannot be said for that +reason that he whom he struck with it has been cudgelled. I say this lest +thou shouldst imagine that because we have been drubbed in this affray we +have therefore suffered any indignity; for the arms those men carried, +with which they pounded us, were nothing more than their stakes, and not +one of them, so far as I remember, carried rapier, sword, or dagger." + +"They gave me no time to see that much," answered Sancho, "for hardly had +I laid hand on my tizona when they signed the cross on my shoulders with +their sticks in such style that they took the sight out of my eyes and +the strength out of my feet, stretching me where I now lie, and where +thinking of whether all those stake-strokes were an indignity or not +gives me no uneasiness, which the pain of the blows does, for they will +remain as deeply impressed on my memory as on my shoulders." + +"For all that let me tell thee, brother Panza," said Don Quixote, "that +there is no recollection which time does not put an end to, and no pain +which death does not remove." + +"And what greater misfortune can there be," replied Panza, "than the one +that waits for time to put an end to it and death to remove it? If our +mishap were one of those that are cured with a couple of plasters, it +would not be so bad; but I am beginning to think that all the plasters in +a hospital almost won't be enough to put us right." + +"No more of that: pluck strength out of weakness, Sancho, as I mean to +do," returned Don Quixote, "and let us see how Rocinante is, for it seems +to me that not the least share of this mishap has fallen to the lot of +the poor beast." + +"There is nothing wonderful in that," replied Sancho, "since he is a +knight-errant too; what I wonder at is that my beast should have come off +scot-free where we come out scotched." + +"Fortune always leaves a door open in adversity in order to bring relief +to it," said Don Quixote; "I say so because this little beast may now +supply the want of Rocinante, carrying me hence to some castle where I +may be cured of my wounds. And moreover I shall not hold it any dishonour +to be so mounted, for I remember having read how the good old Silenus, +the tutor and instructor of the gay god of laughter, when he entered the +city of the hundred gates, went very contentedly mounted on a handsome +ass." + +"It may be true that he went mounted as your worship says," answered +Sancho, "but there is a great difference between going mounted and going +slung like a sack of manure." + +To which Don Quixote replied, "Wounds received in battle confer honour +instead of taking it away; and so, friend Panza, say no more, but, as I +told thee before, get up as well as thou canst and put me on top of thy +beast in whatever fashion pleases thee best, and let us go hence ere +night come on and surprise us in these wilds." + +"And yet I have heard your worship say," observed Panza, "that it is very +meet for knights-errant to sleep in wastes and deserts, and that they +esteem it very good fortune." + +"That is," said Don Quixote, "when they cannot help it, or when they are +in love; and so true is this that there have been knights who have +remained two years on rocks, in sunshine and shade and all the +inclemencies of heaven, without their ladies knowing anything of it; and +one of these was Amadis, when, under the name of Beltenebros, he took up +his abode on the Pena Pobre for--I know not if it was eight years or +eight months, for I am not very sure of the reckoning; at any rate he +stayed there doing penance for I know not what pique the Princess Oriana +had against him; but no more of this now, Sancho, and make haste before a +mishap like Rocinante's befalls the ass." + +"The very devil would be in it in that case," said Sancho; and letting +off thirty "ohs," and sixty sighs, and a hundred and twenty maledictions +and execrations on whomsoever it was that had brought him there, he +raised himself, stopping half-way bent like a Turkish bow without power +to bring himself upright, but with all his pains he saddled his ass, who +too had gone astray somewhat, yielding to the excessive licence of the +day; he next raised up Rocinante, and as for him, had he possessed a +tongue to complain with, most assuredly neither Sancho nor his master +would have been behind him. + +To be brief, Sancho fixed Don Quixote on the ass and secured Rocinante +with a leading rein, and taking the ass by the halter, he proceeded more +or less in the direction in which it seemed to him the high road might +be; and, as chance was conducting their affairs for them from good to +better, he had not gone a short league when the road came in sight, and +on it he perceived an inn, which to his annoyance and to the delight of +Don Quixote must needs be a castle. Sancho insisted that it was an inn, +and his master that it was not one, but a castle, and the dispute lasted +so long that before the point was settled they had time to reach it, and +into it Sancho entered with all his team without any further controversy. + +Chapter XVI. - +Of what happened to the ingenious gentleman in the inn which he took to +be a castle + +The innkeeper, seeing Don Quixote slung across the ass, asked Sancho what +was amiss with him. Sancho answered that it was nothing, only that he had +fallen down from a rock and had his ribs a little bruised. The innkeeper +had a wife whose disposition was not such as those of her calling +commonly have, for she was by nature kind-hearted and felt for the +sufferings of her neighbours, so she at once set about tending Don +Quixote, and made her young daughter, a very comely girl, help her in +taking care of her guest. There was besides in the inn, as servant, an +Asturian lass with a broad face, flat poll, and snub nose, blind of one +eye and not very sound in the other. The elegance of her shape, to be +sure, made up for all her defects; she did not measure seven palms from +head to foot, and her shoulders, which overweighted her somewhat, made +her contemplate the ground more than she liked. This graceful lass, then, +helped the young girl, and the two made up a very bad bed for Don Quixote +in a garret that showed evident signs of having formerly served for many +years as a straw-loft, in which there was also quartered a carrier whose +bed was placed a little beyond our Don Quixote's, and, though only made +of the pack-saddles and cloths of his mules, had much the advantage of +it, as Don Quixote's consisted simply of four rough boards on two not +very even trestles, a mattress, that for thinness might have passed for a +quilt, full of pellets which, were they not seen through the rents to be +wool, would to the touch have seemed pebbles in hardness, two sheets made +of buckler leather, and a coverlet the threads of which anyone that chose +might have counted without missing one in the reckoning. + +On this accursed bed Don Quixote stretched himself, and the hostess and +her daughter soon covered him with plasters from top to toe, while +Maritornes--for that was the name of the Asturian--held the light for +them, and while plastering him, the hostess, observing how full of wheals +Don Quixote was in some places, remarked that this had more the look of +blows than of a fall. + +It was not blows, Sancho said, but that the rock had many points and +projections, and that each of them had left its mark. "Pray, senora," he +added, "manage to save some tow, as there will be no want of some one to +use it, for my loins too are rather sore." + +"Then you must have fallen too," said the hostess. + +"I did not fall," said Sancho Panza, "but from the shock I got at seeing +my master fall, my body aches so that I feel as if I had had a thousand +thwacks." + +"That may well be," said the young girl, "for it has many a time happened +to me to dream that I was falling down from a tower and never coming to +the ground, and when I awoke from the dream to find myself as weak and +shaken as if I had really fallen." + +"There is the point, senora," replied Sancho Panza, "that I without +dreaming at all, but being more awake than I am now, find myself with +scarcely less wheals than my master, Don Quixote." + +"How is the gentleman called?" asked Maritornes the Asturian. + +"Don Quixote of La Mancha," answered Sancho Panza, "and he is a +knight-adventurer, and one of the best and stoutest that have been seen +in the world this long time past." + +"What is a knight-adventurer?" said the lass. + +"Are you so new in the world as not to know?" answered Sancho Panza. +"Well, then, you must know, sister, that a knight-adventurer is a thing +that in two words is seen drubbed and emperor, that is to-day the most +miserable and needy being in the world, and to-morrow will have two or +three crowns of kingdoms to give his squire." + +"Then how is it," said the hostess, "that belonging to so good a master +as this, you have not, to judge by appearances, even so much as a +county?" + +"It is too soon yet," answered Sancho, "for we have only been a month +going in quest of adventures, and so far we have met with nothing that +can be called one, for it will happen that when one thing is looked for +another thing is found; however, if my master Don Quixote gets well of +this wound, or fall, and I am left none the worse of it, I would not +change my hopes for the best title in Spain." + +To all this conversation Don Quixote was listening very attentively, and +sitting up in bed as well as he could, and taking the hostess by the hand +he said to her, "Believe me, fair lady, you may call yourself fortunate +in having in this castle of yours sheltered my person, which is such that +if I do not myself praise it, it is because of what is commonly said, +that self-praise debaseth; but my squire will inform you who I am. I only +tell you that I shall preserve for ever inscribed on my memory the +service you have rendered me in order to tender you my gratitude while +life shall last me; and would to Heaven love held me not so enthralled +and subject to its laws and to the eyes of that fair ingrate whom I name +between my teeth, but that those of this lovely damsel might be the +masters of my liberty." + +The hostess, her daughter, and the worthy Maritornes listened in +bewilderment to the words of the knight-errant; for they understood about +as much of them as if he had been talking Greek, though they could +perceive they were all meant for expressions of good-will and +blandishments; and not being accustomed to this kind of language, they +stared at him and wondered to themselves, for he seemed to them a man of +a different sort from those they were used to, and thanking him in +pothouse phrase for his civility they left him, while the Asturian gave +her attention to Sancho, who needed it no less than his master. + +The carrier had made an arrangement with her for recreation that night, +and she had given him her word that when the guests were quiet and the +family asleep she would come in search of him and meet his wishes +unreservedly. And it is said of this good lass that she never made +promises of the kind without fulfilling them, even though she made them +in a forest and without any witness present, for she plumed herself +greatly on being a lady and held it no disgrace to be in such an +employment as servant in an inn, because, she said, misfortunes and +ill-luck had brought her to that position. The hard, narrow, wretched, +rickety bed of Don Quixote stood first in the middle of this star-lit +stable, and close beside it Sancho made his, which merely consisted of a +rush mat and a blanket that looked as if it was of threadbare canvas +rather than of wool. Next to these two beds was that of the carrier, made +up, as has been said, of the pack-saddles and all the trappings of the +two best mules he had, though there were twelve of them, sleek, plump, +and in prime condition, for he was one of the rich carriers of Arevalo, +according to the author of this history, who particularly mentions this +carrier because he knew him very well, and they even say was in some +degree a relation of his; besides which Cide Hamete Benengeli was a +historian of great research and accuracy in all things, as is very +evident since he would not pass over in silence those that have been +already mentioned, however trifling and insignificant they might be, an +example that might be followed by those grave historians who relate +transactions so curtly and briefly that we hardly get a taste of them, +all the substance of the work being left in the inkstand from +carelessness, perverseness, or ignorance. A thousand blessings on the +author of "Tablante de Ricamonte" and that of the other book in which the +deeds of the Conde Tomillas are recounted; with what minuteness they +describe everything! + +To proceed, then: after having paid a visit to his team and given them +their second feed, the carrier stretched himself on his pack-saddles and +lay waiting for his conscientious Maritornes. Sancho was by this time +plastered and had lain down, and though he strove to sleep the pain of +his ribs would not let him, while Don Quixote with the pain of his had +his eyes as wide open as a hare's. + +The inn was all in silence, and in the whole of it there was no light +except that given by a lantern that hung burning in the middle of the +gateway. This strange stillness, and the thoughts, always present to our +knight's mind, of the incidents described at every turn in the books that +were the cause of his misfortune, conjured up to his imagination as +extraordinary a delusion as can well be conceived, which was that he +fancied himself to have reached a famous castle (for, as has been said, +all the inns he lodged in were castles to his eyes), and that the +daughter of the innkeeper was daughter of the lord of the castle, and +that she, won by his high-bred bearing, had fallen in love with him, and +had promised to come to his bed for a while that night without the +knowledge of her parents; and holding all this fantasy that he had +constructed as solid fact, he began to feel uneasy and to consider the +perilous risk which his virtue was about to encounter, and he resolved in +his heart to commit no treason to his lady Dulcinea del Toboso, even +though the queen Guinevere herself and the dame Quintanona should present +themselves before him. + +While he was taken up with these vagaries, then, the time and the +hour--an unlucky one for him--arrived for the Asturian to come, who in +her smock, with bare feet and her hair gathered into a fustian coif, with +noiseless and cautious steps entered the chamber where the three were +quartered, in quest of the carrier; but scarcely had she gained the door +when Don Quixote perceived her, and sitting up in his bed in spite of his +plasters and the pain of his ribs, he stretched out his arms to receive +his beauteous damsel. The Asturian, who went all doubled up and in +silence with her hands before her feeling for her lover, encountered the +arms of Don Quixote, who grasped her tightly by the wrist, and drawing +her towards him, while she dared not utter a word, made her sit down on +the bed. He then felt her smock, and although it was of sackcloth it +appeared to him to be of the finest and softest silk: on her wrists she +wore some glass beads, but to him they had the sheen of precious Orient +pearls: her hair, which in some measure resembled a horse's mane, he +rated as threads of the brightest gold of Araby, whose refulgence dimmed +the sun himself: her breath, which no doubt smelt of yesterday's stale +salad, seemed to him to diffuse a sweet aromatic fragrance from her +mouth; and, in short, he drew her portrait in his imagination with the +same features and in the same style as that which he had seen in his +books of the other princesses who, smitten by love, came with all the +adornments that are here set down, to see the sorely wounded knight; and +so great was the poor gentleman's blindness that neither touch, nor +smell, nor anything else about the good lass that would have made any but +a carrier vomit, were enough to undeceive him; on the contrary, he was +persuaded he had the goddess of beauty in his arms, and holding her +firmly in his grasp he went on to say in low, tender voice: + +"Would that found myself, lovely and exalted lady, in a position to repay +such a favour as that which you, by the sight of your great beauty, have +granted me; but fortune, which is never weary of persecuting the good, +has chosen to place me upon this bed, where I lie so bruised and broken +that though my inclination would gladly comply with yours it is +impossible; besides, to this impossibility another yet greater is to be +added, which is the faith that I have pledged to the peerless Dulcinea +del Toboso, sole lady of my most secret thoughts; and were it not that +this stood in the way I should not be so insensible a knight as to miss +the happy opportunity which your great goodness has offered me." + +Maritornes was fretting and sweating at finding herself held so fast by +Don Quixote, and not understanding or heeding the words he addressed to +her, she strove without speaking to free herself. The worthy carrier, +whose unholy thoughts kept him awake, was aware of his doxy the moment +she entered the door, and was listening attentively to all Don Quixote +said; and jealous that the Asturian should have broken her word with him +for another, drew nearer to Don Quixote's bed and stood still to see what +would come of this talk which he could not understand; but when he +perceived the wench struggling to get free and Don Quixote striving to +hold her, not relishing the joke he raised his arm and delivered such a +terrible cuff on the lank jaws of the amorous knight that he bathed all +his mouth in blood, and not content with this he mounted on his ribs and +with his feet tramped all over them at a pace rather smarter than a trot. +The bed which was somewhat crazy and not very firm on its feet, unable to +support the additional weight of the carrier, came to the ground, and at +the mighty crash of this the innkeeper awoke and at once concluded that +it must be some brawl of Maritornes', because after calling loudly to her +he got no answer. With this suspicion he got up, and lighting a lamp +hastened to the quarter where he had heard the disturbance. The wench, +seeing that her master was coming and knowing that his temper was +terrible, frightened and panic-stricken made for the bed of Sancho Panza, +who still slept, and crouching upon it made a ball of herself. + +The innkeeper came in exclaiming, "Where art thou, strumpet? Of course +this is some of thy work." At this Sancho awoke, and feeling this mass +almost on top of him fancied he had the nightmare and began to distribute +fisticuffs all round, of which a certain share fell upon Maritornes, who, +irritated by the pain and flinging modesty aside, paid back so many in +return to Sancho that she woke him up in spite of himself. He then, +finding himself so handled, by whom he knew not, raising himself up as +well as he could, grappled with Maritornes, and he and she between them +began the bitterest and drollest scrimmage in the world. The carrier, +however, perceiving by the light of the innkeeper candle how it fared +with his ladylove, quitting Don Quixote, ran to bring her the help she +needed; and the innkeeper did the same but with a different intention, +for his was to chastise the lass, as he believed that beyond a doubt she +alone was the cause of all the harmony. And so, as the saying is, cat to +rat, rat to rope, rope to stick, the carrier pounded Sancho, Sancho the +lass, she him, and the innkeeper her, and all worked away so briskly that +they did not give themselves a moment's rest; and the best of it was that +the innkeeper's lamp went out, and as they were left in the dark they all +laid on one upon the other in a mass so unmercifully that there was not a +sound spot left where a hand could light. + +It so happened that there was lodging that night in the inn a caudrillero +of what they call the Old Holy Brotherhood of Toledo, who, also hearing +the extraordinary noise of the conflict, seized his staff and the tin +case with his warrants, and made his way in the dark into the room +crying: "Hold! in the name of the Jurisdiction! Hold! in the name of the +Holy Brotherhood!" + +The first that he came upon was the pummelled Don Quixote, who lay +stretched senseless on his back upon his broken-down bed, and, his hand +falling on the beard as he felt about, he continued to cry, "Help for the +Jurisdiction!" but perceiving that he whom he had laid hold of did not +move or stir, he concluded that he was dead and that those in the room +were his murderers, and with this suspicion he raised his voice still +higher, calling out, "Shut the inn gate; see that no one goes out; they +have killed a man here!" This cry startled them all, and each dropped the +contest at the point at which the voice reached him. The innkeeper +retreated to his room, the carrier to his pack-saddles, the lass to her +crib; the unlucky Don Quixote and Sancho alone were unable to move from +where they were. The cuadrillero on this let go Don Quixote's beard, and +went out to look for a light to search for and apprehend the culprits; +but not finding one, as the innkeeper had purposely extinguished the +lantern on retreating to his room, he was compelled to have recourse to +the hearth, where after much time and trouble he lit another lamp. + +Chapter XVII. - +In which are contained the innumerable troubles which the brave Don +Quixote and his good Squire Sancho Panza endured in the inn, which to his +misfortune he took to be a castle + +By this time Don Quixote had recovered from his swoon; and in the same +tone of voice in which he had called to his squire the day before when he +lay stretched "in the vale of the stakes," he began calling to him now, +"Sancho, my friend, art thou asleep? sleepest thou, friend Sancho?" + +"How can I sleep, curses on it!" returned Sancho discontentedly and +bitterly, "when it is plain that all the devils have been at me this +night?" + +"Thou mayest well believe that," answered Don Quixote, "because, either I +know little, or this castle is enchanted, for thou must know-but this +that I am now about to tell thee thou must swear to keep secret until +after my death." + +"I swear it," answered Sancho. + +"I say so," continued Don Quixote, "because I hate taking away anyone's +good name." + +"I say," replied Sancho, "that I swear to hold my tongue about it till +the end of your worship's days, and God grant I may be able to let it out +tomorrow." + +"Do I do thee such injuries, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that thou +wouldst see me dead so soon?" + +"It is not for that," replied Sancho, "but because I hate keeping things +long, and I don't want them to grow rotten with me from over-keeping." + +"At any rate," said Don Quixote, "I have more confidence in thy affection +and good nature; and so I would have thee know that this night there +befell me one of the strangest adventures that I could describe, and to +relate it to thee briefly thou must know that a little while ago the +daughter of the lord of this castle came to me, and that she is the most +elegant and beautiful damsel that could be found in the wide world. What +I could tell thee of the charms of her person! of her lively wit! of +other secret matters which, to preserve the fealty I owe to my lady +Dulcinea del Toboso, I shall pass over unnoticed and in silence! I will +only tell thee that, either fate being envious of so great a boon placed +in my hands by good fortune, or perhaps (and this is more probable) this +castle being, as I have already said, enchanted, at the time when I was +engaged in the sweetest and most amorous discourse with her, there came, +without my seeing or knowing whence it came, a hand attached to some arm +of some huge giant, that planted such a cuff on my jaws that I have them +all bathed in blood, and then pummelled me in such a way that I am in a +worse plight than yesterday when the carriers, on account of Rocinante's +misbehaviour, inflicted on us the injury thou knowest of; whence +conjecture that there must be some enchanted Moor guarding the treasure +of this damsel's beauty, and that it is not for me." + +"Not for me either," said Sancho, "for more than four hundred Moors have +so thrashed me that the drubbing of the stakes was cakes and fancy-bread +to it. But tell me, senor, what do you call this excellent and rare +adventure that has left us as we are left now? Though your worship was +not so badly off, having in your arms that incomparable beauty you spoke +of; but I, what did I have, except the heaviest whacks I think I had in +all my life? Unlucky me and the mother that bore me! for I am not a +knight-errant and never expect to be one, and of all the mishaps, the +greater part falls to my share." + +"Then thou hast been thrashed too?" said Don Quixote. + +"Didn't I say so? worse luck to my line!" said Sancho. + +"Be not distressed, friend," said Don Quixote, "for I will now make the +precious balsam with which we shall cure ourselves in the twinkling of an +eye." + +By this time the cuadrillero had succeeded in lighting the lamp, and came +in to see the man that he thought had been killed; and as Sancho caught +sight of him at the door, seeing him coming in his shirt, with a cloth on +his head, and a lamp in his hand, and a very forbidding countenance, he +said to his master, "Senor, can it be that this is the enchanted Moor +coming back to give us more castigation if there be anything still left +in the ink-bottle?" + +"It cannot be the Moor," answered Don Quixote, "for those under +enchantment do not let themselves be seen by anyone." + +"If they don't let themselves be seen, they let themselves be felt," said +Sancho; "if not, let my shoulders speak to the point." + +"Mine could speak too," said Don Quixote, "but that is not a sufficient +reason for believing that what we see is the enchanted Moor." + +The officer came up, and finding them engaged in such a peaceful +conversation, stood amazed; though Don Quixote, to be sure, still lay on +his back unable to move from pure pummelling and plasters. The officer +turned to him and said, "Well, how goes it, good man?" + +"I would speak more politely if I were you," replied Don Quixote; "is it +the way of this country to address knights-errant in that style, you +booby?" + +The cuadrillero finding himself so disrespectfully treated by such a +sorry-looking individual, lost his temper, and raising the lamp full of +oil, smote Don Quixote such a blow with it on the head that he gave him a +badly broken pate; then, all being in darkness, he went out, and Sancho +Panza said, "That is certainly the enchanted Moor, Senor, and he keeps +the treasure for others, and for us only the cuffs and lamp-whacks." + +"That is the truth," answered Don Quixote, "and there is no use in +troubling oneself about these matters of enchantment or being angry or +vexed at them, for as they are invisible and visionary we shall find no +one on whom to avenge ourselves, do what we may; rise, Sancho, if thou +canst, and call the alcaide of this fortress, and get him to give me a +little oil, wine, salt, and rosemary to make the salutiferous balsam, for +indeed I believe I have great need of it now, because I am losing much +blood from the wound that phantom gave me." + +Sancho got up with pain enough in his bones, and went after the innkeeper +in the dark, and meeting the officer, who was looking to see what had +become of his enemy, he said to him, "Senor, whoever you are, do us the +favour and kindness to give us a little rosemary, oil, salt, and wine, +for it is wanted to cure one of the best knights-errant on earth, who +lies on yonder bed wounded by the hands of the enchanted Moor that is in +this inn." + +When the officer heard him talk in this way, he took him for a man out of +his senses, and as day was now beginning to break, he opened the inn +gate, and calling the host, he told him what this good man wanted. The +host furnished him with what he required, and Sancho brought it to Don +Quixote, who, with his hand to his head, was bewailing the pain of the +blow of the lamp, which had done him no more harm than raising a couple +of rather large lumps, and what he fancied blood was only the sweat that +flowed from him in his sufferings during the late storm. To be brief, he +took the materials, of which he made a compound, mixing them all and +boiling them a good while until it seemed to him they had come to +perfection. He then asked for some vial to pour it into, and as there was +not one in the inn, he decided on putting it into a tin oil-bottle or +flask of which the host made him a free gift; and over the flask he +repeated more than eighty paternosters and as many more ave-marias, +salves, and credos, accompanying each word with a cross by way of +benediction, at all which there were present Sancho, the innkeeper, and +the cuadrillero; for the carrier was now peacefully engaged in attending +to the comfort of his mules. + +This being accomplished, he felt anxious to make trial himself, on the +spot, of the virtue of this precious balsam, as he considered it, and so +he drank near a quart of what could not be put into the flask and +remained in the pigskin in which it had been boiled; but scarcely had he +done drinking when he began to vomit in such a way that nothing was left +in his stomach, and with the pangs and spasms of vomiting he broke into a +profuse sweat, on account of which he bade them cover him up and leave +him alone. They did so, and he lay sleeping more than three hours, at the +end of which he awoke and felt very great bodily relief and so much ease +from his bruises that he thought himself quite cured, and verily believed +he had hit upon the balsam of Fierabras; and that with this remedy he +might thenceforward, without any fear, face any kind of destruction, +battle, or combat, however perilous it might be. + +Sancho Panza, who also regarded the amendment of his master as +miraculous, begged him to give him what was left in the pigskin, which +was no small quantity. Don Quixote consented, and he, taking it with both +hands, in good faith and with a better will, gulped down and drained off +very little less than his master. But the fact is, that the stomach of +poor Sancho was of necessity not so delicate as that of his master, and +so, before vomiting, he was seized with such gripings and retchings, and +such sweats and faintness, that verily and truly be believed his last +hour had come, and finding himself so racked and tormented he cursed the +balsam and the thief that had given it to him. + +Don Quixote seeing him in this state said, "It is my belief, Sancho, that +this mischief comes of thy not being dubbed a knight, for I am persuaded +this liquor cannot be good for those who are not so." + +"If your worship knew that," returned Sancho--"woe betide me and all my +kindred!--why did you let me taste it?" + +At this moment the draught took effect, and the poor squire began to +discharge both ways at such a rate that the rush mat on which he had +thrown himself and the canvas blanket he had covering him were fit for +nothing afterwards. He sweated and perspired with such paroxysms and +convulsions that not only he himself but all present thought his end had +come. This tempest and tribulation lasted about two hours, at the end of +which he was left, not like his master, but so weak and exhausted that he +could not stand. Don Quixote, however, who, as has been said, felt +himself relieved and well, was eager to take his departure at once in +quest of adventures, as it seemed to him that all the time he loitered +there was a fraud upon the world and those in it who stood in need of his +help and protection, all the more when he had the security and confidence +his balsam afforded him; and so, urged by this impulse, he saddled +Rocinante himself and put the pack-saddle on his squire's beast, whom +likewise he helped to dress and mount the ass; after which he mounted his +horse and turning to a corner of the inn he laid hold of a pike that +stood there, to serve him by way of a lance. All that were in the inn, +who were more than twenty persons, stood watching him; the innkeeper's +daughter was likewise observing him, and he too never took his eyes off +her, and from time to time fetched a sigh that he seemed to pluck up from +the depths of his bowels; but they all thought it must be from the pain +he felt in his ribs; at any rate they who had seen him plastered the +night before thought so. + +As soon as they were both mounted, at the gate of the inn, he called to +the host and said in a very grave and measured voice, "Many and great are +the favours, Senor Alcaide, that I have received in this castle of yours, +and I remain under the deepest obligation to be grateful to you for them +all the days of my life; if I can repay them in avenging you of any +arrogant foe who may have wronged you, know that my calling is no other +than to aid the weak, to avenge those who suffer wrong, and to chastise +perfidy. Search your memory, and if you find anything of this kind you +need only tell me of it, and I promise you by the order of knighthood +which I have received to procure you satisfaction and reparation to the +utmost of your desire." + +The innkeeper replied to him with equal calmness, "Sir Knight, I do not +want your worship to avenge me of any wrong, because when any is done me +I can take what vengeance seems good to me; the only thing I want is that +you pay me the score that you have run up in the inn last night, as well +for the straw and barley for your two beasts, as for supper and beds." + +"Then this is an inn?" said Don Quixote. + +"And a very respectable one," said the innkeeper. + +"I have been under a mistake all this time," answered Don Quixote, "for +in truth I thought it was a castle, and not a bad one; but since it +appears that it is not a castle but an inn, all that can be done now is +that you should excuse the payment, for I cannot contravene the rule of +knights-errant, of whom I know as a fact (and up to the present I have +read nothing to the contrary) that they never paid for lodging or +anything else in the inn where they might be; for any hospitality that +might be offered them is their due by law and right in return for the +insufferable toil they endure in seeking adventures by night and by day, +in summer and in winter, on foot and on horseback, in hunger and thirst, +cold and heat, exposed to all the inclemencies of heaven and all the +hardships of earth." + +"I have little to do with that," replied the innkeeper; "pay me what you +owe me, and let us have no more talk of chivalry, for all I care about is +to get my money." + +"You are a stupid, scurvy innkeeper," said Don Quixote, and putting spurs +to Rocinante and bringing his pike to the slope he rode out of the inn +before anyone could stop him, and pushed on some distance without looking +to see if his squire was following him. + +The innkeeper when he saw him go without paying him ran to get payment of +Sancho, who said that as his master would not pay neither would he, +because, being as he was squire to a knight-errant, the same rule and +reason held good for him as for his master with regard to not paying +anything in inns and hostelries. At this the innkeeper waxed very wroth, +and threatened if he did not pay to compel him in a way that he would not +like. To which Sancho made answer that by the law of chivalry his master +had received he would not pay a rap, though it cost him his life; for the +excellent and ancient usage of knights-errant was not going to be +violated by him, nor should the squires of such as were yet to come into +the world ever complain of him or reproach him with breaking so just a +privilege. + +The ill-luck of the unfortunate Sancho so ordered it that among the +company in the inn there were four woolcarders from Segovia, three +needle-makers from the Colt of Cordova, and two lodgers from the Fair of +Seville, lively fellows, tender-hearted, fond of a joke, and playful, +who, almost as if instigated and moved by a common impulse, made up to +Sancho and dismounted him from his ass, while one of them went in for the +blanket of the host's bed; but on flinging him into it they looked up, +and seeing that the ceiling was somewhat lower what they required for +their work, they decided upon going out into the yard, which was bounded +by the sky, and there, putting Sancho in the middle of the blanket, they +began to raise him high, making sport with him as they would with a dog +at Shrovetide. + +The cries of the poor blanketed wretch were so loud that they reached the +ears of his master, who, halting to listen attentively, was persuaded +that some new adventure was coming, until he clearly perceived that it +was his squire who uttered them. Wheeling about he came up to the inn +with a laborious gallop, and finding it shut went round it to see if he +could find some way of getting in; but as soon as he came to the wall of +the yard, which was not very high, he discovered the game that was being +played with his squire. He saw him rising and falling in the air with +such grace and nimbleness that, had his rage allowed him, it is my belief +he would have laughed. He tried to climb from his horse on to the top of +the wall, but he was so bruised and battered that he could not even +dismount; and so from the back of his horse he began to utter such +maledictions and objurgations against those who were blanketing Sancho as +it would be impossible to write down accurately: they, however, did not +stay their laughter or their work for this, nor did the flying Sancho +cease his lamentations, mingled now with threats, now with entreaties but +all to little purpose, or none at all, until from pure weariness they +left off. They then brought him his ass, and mounting him on top of it +they put his jacket round him; and the compassionate Maritornes, seeing +him so exhausted, thought fit to refresh him with a jug of water, and +that it might be all the cooler she fetched it from the well. Sancho took +it, and as he was raising it to his mouth he was stopped by the cries of +his master exclaiming, "Sancho, my son, drink not water; drink it not, my +son, for it will kill thee; see, here I have the blessed balsam (and he +held up the flask of liquor), and with drinking two drops of it thou wilt +certainly be restored." + +At these words Sancho turned his eyes asquint, and in a still louder +voice said, "Can it be your worship has forgotten that I am not a knight, +or do you want me to end by vomiting up what bowels I have left after +last night? Keep your liquor in the name of all the devils, and leave me +to myself!" and at one and the same instant he left off talking and began +drinking; but as at the first sup he perceived it was water he did not +care to go on with it, and begged Maritornes to fetch him some wine, +which she did with right good will, and paid for it with her own money; +for indeed they say of her that, though she was in that line of life, +there was some faint and distant resemblance to a Christian about her. +When Sancho had done drinking he dug his heels into his ass, and the gate +of the inn being thrown open he passed out very well pleased at having +paid nothing and carried his point, though it had been at the expense of +his usual sureties, his shoulders. It is true that the innkeeper detained +his alforjas in payment of what was owing to him, but Sancho took his +departure in such a flurry that he never missed them. The innkeeper, as +soon as he saw him off, wanted to bar the gate close, but the blanketers +would not agree to it, for they were fellows who would not have cared two +farthings for Don Quixote, even had he been really one of the +knights-errant of the Round Table. + +Chapter XVIII. - +In which is related the discourse Sancho Panza held with his master, Don +Quixote, and other adventures worth relating + +Sancho reached his master so limp and faint that he could not urge on his +beast. When Don Quixote saw the state he was in he said, "I have now come +to the conclusion, good Sancho, that this castle or inn is beyond a doubt +enchanted, because those who have so atrociously diverted themselves with +thee, what can they be but phantoms or beings of another world? and I +hold this confirmed by having noticed that when I was by the wall of the +yard witnessing the acts of thy sad tragedy, it was out of my power to +mount upon it, nor could I even dismount from Rocinante, because they no +doubt had me enchanted; for I swear to thee by the faith of what I am +that if I had been able to climb up or dismount, I would have avenged +thee in such a way that those braggart thieves would have remembered +their freak for ever, even though in so doing I knew that I contravened +the laws of chivalry, which, as I have often told thee, do not permit a +knight to lay hands on him who is not one, save in case of urgent and +great necessity in defence of his own life and person." + +"I would have avenged myself too if I could," said Sancho, "whether I had +been dubbed knight or not, but I could not; though for my part I am +persuaded those who amused themselves with me were not phantoms or +enchanted men, as your worship says, but men of flesh and bone like +ourselves; and they all had their names, for I heard them name them when +they were tossing me, and one was called Pedro Martinez, and another +Tenorio Hernandez, and the innkeeper, I heard, was called Juan Palomeque +the Left-handed; so that, senor, your not being able to leap over the +wall of the yard or dismount from your horse came of something else +besides enchantments; and what I make out clearly from all this is, that +these adventures we go seeking will in the end lead us into such +misadventures that we shall not know which is our right foot; and that +the best and wisest thing, according to my small wits, would be for us to +return home, now that it is harvest-time, and attend to our business, and +give over wandering from Zeca to Mecca and from pail to bucket, as the +saying is." + +"How little thou knowest about chivalry, Sancho," replied Don Quixote; +"hold thy peace and have patience; the day will come when thou shalt see +with thine own eyes what an honourable thing it is to wander in the +pursuit of this calling; nay, tell me, what greater pleasure can there be +in the world, or what delight can equal that of winning a battle, and +triumphing over one's enemy? None, beyond all doubt." + +"Very likely," answered Sancho, "though I do not know it; all I know is +that since we have been knights-errant, or since your worship has been +one (for I have no right to reckon myself one of so honourable a number) +we have never won any battle except the one with the Biscayan, and even +out of that your worship came with half an ear and half a helmet the +less; and from that till now it has been all cudgellings and more +cudgellings, cuffs and more cuffs, I getting the blanketing over and +above, and falling in with enchanted persons on whom I cannot avenge +myself so as to know what the delight, as your worship calls it, of +conquering an enemy is like." + +"That is what vexes me, and what ought to vex thee, Sancho," replied Don +Quixote; "but henceforward I will endeavour to have at hand some sword +made by such craft that no kind of enchantments can take effect upon him +who carries it, and it is even possible that fortune may procure for me +that which belonged to Amadis when he was called 'The Knight of the +Burning Sword,' which was one of the best swords that ever knight in the +world possessed, for, besides having the said virtue, it cut like a +razor, and there was no armour, however strong and enchanted it might be, +that could resist it." + +"Such is my luck," said Sancho, "that even if that happened and your +worship found some such sword, it would, like the balsam, turn out +serviceable and good for dubbed knights only, and as for the squires, +they might sup sorrow." + +"Fear not that, Sancho," said Don Quixote: "Heaven will deal better by +thee." + +Thus talking, Don Quixote and his squire were going along, when, on the +road they were following, Don Quixote perceived approaching them a large +and thick cloud of dust, on seeing which he turned to Sancho and said: + +"This is the day, Sancho, on which will be seen the boon my fortune is +reserving for me; this, I say, is the day on which as much as on any +other shall be displayed the might of my arm, and on which I shall do +deeds that shall remain written in the book of fame for all ages to come. +Seest thou that cloud of dust which rises yonder? Well, then, all that is +churned up by a vast army composed of various and countless nations that +comes marching there." + +"According to that there must be two," said Sancho, "for on this opposite +side also there rises just such another cloud of dust." + +Don Quixote turned to look and found that it was true, and rejoicing +exceedingly, he concluded that they were two armies about to engage and +encounter in the midst of that broad plain; for at all times and seasons +his fancy was full of the battles, enchantments, adventures, crazy feats, +loves, and defiances that are recorded in the books of chivalry, and +everything he said, thought, or did had reference to such things. Now the +cloud of dust he had seen was raised by two great droves of sheep coming +along the same road in opposite directions, which, because of the dust, +did not become visible until they drew near, but Don Quixote asserted so +positively that they were armies that Sancho was led to believe it and +say, "Well, and what are we to do, senor?" + +"What?" said Don Quixote: "give aid and assistance to the weak and those +who need it; and thou must know, Sancho, that this which comes opposite +to us is conducted and led by the mighty emperor Alifanfaron, lord of the +great isle of Trapobana; this other that marches behind me is that of his +enemy the king of the Garamantas, Pentapolin of the Bare Arm, for he +always goes into battle with his right arm bare." + +"But why are these two lords such enemies?" + +"They are at enmity," replied Don Quixote, "because this Alifanfaron is a +furious pagan and is in love with the daughter of Pentapolin, who is a +very beautiful and moreover gracious lady, and a Christian, and her +father is unwilling to bestow her upon the pagan king unless he first +abandons the religion of his false prophet Mahomet, and adopts his own." + +"By my beard," said Sancho, "but Pentapolin does quite right, and I will +help him as much as I can." + +"In that thou wilt do what is thy duty, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for +to engage in battles of this sort it is not requisite to be a dubbed +knight." + +"That I can well understand," answered Sancho; "but where shall we put +this ass where we may be sure to find him after the fray is over? for I +believe it has not been the custom so far to go into battle on a beast of +this kind." + +"That is true," said Don Quixote, "and what you had best do with him is +to leave him to take his chance whether he be lost or not, for the horses +we shall have when we come out victors will be so many that even +Rocinante will run a risk of being changed for another. But attend to me +and observe, for I wish to give thee some account of the chief knights +who accompany these two armies; and that thou mayest the better see and +mark, let us withdraw to that hillock which rises yonder, whence both +armies may be seen." + +They did so, and placed themselves on a rising ground from which the two +droves that Don Quixote made armies of might have been plainly seen if +the clouds of dust they raised had not obscured them and blinded the +sight; nevertheless, seeing in his imagination what he did not see and +what did not exist, he began thus in a loud voice: + +"That knight whom thou seest yonder in yellow armour, who bears upon his +shield a lion crowned crouching at the feet of a damsel, is the valiant +Laurcalco, lord of the Silver Bridge; that one in armour with flowers of +gold, who bears on his shield three crowns argent on an azure field, is +the dreaded Micocolembo, grand duke of Quirocia; that other of gigantic +frame, on his right hand, is the ever dauntless Brandabarbaran de +Boliche, lord of the three Arabias, who for armour wears that serpent +skin, and has for shield a gate which, according to tradition, is one of +those of the temple that Samson brought to the ground when by his death +he revenged himself upon his enemies. But turn thine eyes to the other +side, and thou shalt see in front and in the van of this other army the +ever victorious and never vanquished Timonel of Carcajona, prince of New +Biscay, who comes in armour with arms quartered azure, vert, white, and +yellow, and bears on his shield a cat or on a field tawny with a motto +which says Miau, which is the beginning of the name of his lady, who +according to report is the peerless Miaulina, daughter of the duke +Alfeniquen of the Algarve; the other, who burdens and presses the loins +of that powerful charger and bears arms white as snow and a shield blank +and without any device, is a novice knight, a Frenchman by birth, Pierres +Papin by name, lord of the baronies of Utrique; that other, who with +iron-shod heels strikes the flanks of that nimble parti-coloured zebra, +and for arms bears azure vair, is the mighty duke of Nerbia, +Espartafilardo del Bosque, who bears for device on his shield an +asparagus plant with a motto in Castilian that says, Rastrea mi suerte." +And so he went on naming a number of knights of one squadron or the other +out of his imagination, and to all he assigned off-hand their arms, +colours, devices, and mottoes, carried away by the illusions of his +unheard-of craze; and without a pause, he continued, "People of divers +nations compose this squadron in front; here are those that drink of the +sweet waters of the famous Xanthus, those that scour the woody Massilian +plains, those that sift the pure fine gold of Arabia Felix, those that +enjoy the famed cool banks of the crystal Thermodon, those that in many +and various ways divert the streams of the golden Pactolus, the +Numidians, faithless in their promises, the Persians renowned in archery, +the Parthians and the Medes that fight as they fly, the Arabs that ever +shift their dwellings, the Scythians as cruel as they are fair, the +Ethiopians with pierced lips, and an infinity of other nations whose +features I recognise and descry, though I cannot recall their names. In +this other squadron there come those that drink of the crystal streams of +the olive-bearing Betis, those that make smooth their countenances with +the water of the ever rich and golden Tagus, those that rejoice in the +fertilising flow of the divine Genil, those that roam the Tartesian +plains abounding in pasture, those that take their pleasure in the +Elysian meadows of Jerez, the rich Manchegans crowned with ruddy ears of +corn, the wearers of iron, old relics of the Gothic race, those that +bathe in the Pisuerga renowned for its gentle current, those that feed +their herds along the spreading pastures of the winding Guadiana famed +for its hidden course, those that tremble with the cold of the pineclad +Pyrenees or the dazzling snows of the lofty Apennine; in a word, as many +as all Europe includes and contains." + +Good God! what a number of countries and nations he named! giving to each +its proper attributes with marvellous readiness; brimful and saturated +with what he had read in his lying books! Sancho Panza hung upon his +words without speaking, and from time to time turned to try if he could +see the knights and giants his master was describing, and as he could not +make out one of them he said to him: + +"Senor, devil take it if there's a sign of any man you talk of, knight or +giant, in the whole thing; maybe it's all enchantment, like the phantoms +last night." + +"How canst thou say that!" answered Don Quixote; "dost thou not hear the +neighing of the steeds, the braying of the trumpets, the roll of the +drums?" + +"I hear nothing but a great bleating of ewes and sheep," said Sancho; +which was true, for by this time the two flocks had come close. + +"The fear thou art in, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "prevents thee from +seeing or hearing correctly, for one of the effects of fear is to derange +the senses and make things appear different from what they are; if thou +art in such fear, withdraw to one side and leave me to myself, for alone +I suffice to bring victory to that side to which I shall give my aid;" +and so saying he gave Rocinante the spur, and putting the lance in rest, +shot down the slope like a thunderbolt. Sancho shouted after him, crying, +"Come back, Senor Don Quixote; I vow to God they are sheep and ewes you +are charging! Come back! Unlucky the father that begot me! what madness +is this! Look, there is no giant, nor knight, nor cats, nor arms, nor +shields quartered or whole, nor vair azure or bedevilled. What are you +about? Sinner that I am before God!" But not for all these entreaties did +Don Quixote turn back; on the contrary he went on shouting out, "Ho, +knights, ye who follow and fight under the banners of the valiant emperor +Pentapolin of the Bare Arm, follow me all; ye shall see how easily I +shall give him his revenge over his enemy Alifanfaron of the Trapobana." + +So saying, he dashed into the midst of the squadron of ewes, and began +spearing them with as much spirit and intrepidity as if he were +transfixing mortal enemies in earnest. The shepherds and drovers +accompanying the flock shouted to him to desist; seeing it was no use, +they ungirt their slings and began to salute his ears with stones as big +as one's fist. Don Quixote gave no heed to the stones, but, letting drive +right and left kept saying: + +"Where art thou, proud Alifanfaron? Come before me; I am a single knight +who would fain prove thy prowess hand to hand, and make thee yield thy +life a penalty for the wrong thou dost to the valiant Pentapolin +Garamanta." Here came a sugar-plum from the brook that struck him on the +side and buried a couple of ribs in his body. Feeling himself so smitten, +he imagined himself slain or badly wounded for certain, and recollecting +his liquor he drew out his flask, and putting it to his mouth began to +pour the contents into his stomach; but ere he had succeeded in +swallowing what seemed to him enough, there came another almond which +struck him on the hand and on the flask so fairly that it smashed it to +pieces, knocking three or four teeth and grinders out of his mouth in its +course, and sorely crushing two fingers of his hand. Such was the force +of the first blow and of the second, that the poor knight in spite of +himself came down backwards off his horse. The shepherds came up, and +felt sure they had killed him; so in all haste they collected their flock +together, took up the dead beasts, of which there were more than seven, +and made off without waiting to ascertain anything further. + +All this time Sancho stood on the hill watching the crazy feats his +master was performing, and tearing his beard and cursing the hour and the +occasion when fortune had made him acquainted with him. Seeing him, then, +brought to the ground, and that the shepherds had taken themselves off, +he ran to him and found him in very bad case, though not unconscious; and +said he: + +"Did I not tell you to come back, Senor Don Quixote; and that what you +were going to attack were not armies but droves of sheep?" + +"That's how that thief of a sage, my enemy, can alter and falsify +things," answered Don Quixote; "thou must know, Sancho, that it is a very +easy matter for those of his sort to make us believe what they choose; +and this malignant being who persecutes me, envious of the glory he knew +I was to win in this battle, has turned the squadrons of the enemy into +droves of sheep. At any rate, do this much, I beg of thee, Sancho, to +undeceive thyself, and see that what I say is true; mount thy ass and +follow them quietly, and thou shalt see that when they have gone some +little distance from this they will return to their original shape and, +ceasing to be sheep, become men in all respects as I described them to +thee at first. But go not just yet, for I want thy help and assistance; +come hither, and see how many of my teeth and grinders are missing, for I +feel as if there was not one left in my mouth." + +Sancho came so close that he almost put his eyes into his mouth; now just +at that moment the balsam had acted on the stomach of Don Quixote, so, at +the very instant when Sancho came to examine his mouth, he discharged all +its contents with more force than a musket, and full into the beard of +the compassionate squire. + +"Holy Mary!" cried Sancho, "what is this that has happened me? Clearly +this sinner is mortally wounded, as he vomits blood from the mouth;" but +considering the matter a little more closely he perceived by the colour, +taste, and smell, that it was not blood but the balsam from the flask +which he had seen him drink; and he was taken with such a loathing that +his stomach turned, and he vomited up his inside over his very master, +and both were left in a precious state. Sancho ran to his ass to get +something wherewith to clean himself, and relieve his master, out of his +alforjas; but not finding them, he well-nigh took leave of his senses, +and cursed himself anew, and in his heart resolved to quit his master and +return home, even though he forfeited the wages of his service and all +hopes of the promised island. + +Don Quixote now rose, and putting his left hand to his mouth to keep his +teeth from falling out altogether, with the other he laid hold of the +bridle of Rocinante, who had never stirred from his master's side--so +loyal and well-behaved was he--and betook himself to where the squire +stood leaning over his ass with his hand to his cheek, like one in deep +dejection. Seeing him in this mood, looking so sad, Don Quixote said to +him: + +"Bear in mind, Sancho, that one man is no more than another, unless he +does more than another; all these tempests that fall upon us are signs +that fair weather is coming shortly, and that things will go well with +us, for it is impossible for good or evil to last for ever; and hence it +follows that the evil having lasted long, the good must be now nigh at +hand; so thou must not distress thyself at the misfortunes which happen +to me, since thou hast no share in them." + +"How have I not?" replied Sancho; "was he whom they blanketed yesterday +perchance any other than my father's son? and the alforjas that are +missing to-day with all my treasures, did they belong to any other but +myself?" + +"What! are the alforjas missing, Sancho?" said Don Quixote. + +"Yes, they are missing," answered Sancho. + +"In that case we have nothing to eat to-day," replied Don Quixote. + +"It would be so," answered Sancho, "if there were none of the herbs your +worship says you know in these meadows, those with which knights-errant +as unlucky as your worship are wont to supply such-like shortcomings." + +"For all that," answered Don Quixote, "I would rather have just now a +quarter of bread, or a loaf and a couple of pilchards' heads, than all +the herbs described by Dioscorides, even with Doctor Laguna's notes. +Nevertheless, Sancho the Good, mount thy beast and come along with me, +for God, who provides for all things, will not fail us (more especially +when we are so active in his service as we are), since he fails not the +midges of the air, nor the grubs of the earth, nor the tadpoles of the +water, and is so merciful that he maketh his sun to rise on the good and +on the evil, and sendeth rain on the unjust and on the just." + +"Your worship would make a better preacher than knight-errant," said +Sancho. + +"Knights-errant knew and ought to know everything, Sancho," said Don +Quixote; "for there were knights-errant in former times as well qualified +to deliver a sermon or discourse in the middle of an encampment, as if +they had graduated in the University of Paris; whereby we may see that +the lance has never blunted the pen, nor the pen the lance." + +"Well, be it as your worship says," replied Sancho; "let us be off now +and find some place of shelter for the night, and God grant it may be +somewhere where there are no blankets, nor blanketeers, nor phantoms, nor +enchanted Moors; for if there are, may the devil take the whole concern." + +"Ask that of God, my son," said Don Quixote; "and do thou lead on where +thou wilt, for this time I leave our lodging to thy choice; but reach me +here thy hand, and feel with thy finger, and find out how many of my +teeth and grinders are missing from this right side of the upper jaw, for +it is there I feel the pain." + +Sancho put in his fingers, and feeling about asked him, "How many +grinders used your worship have on this side?" + +"Four," replied Don Quixote, "besides the back-tooth, all whole and quite +sound." + +"Mind what you are saying, senor." + +"I say four, if not five," answered Don Quixote, "for never in my life +have I had tooth or grinder drawn, nor has any fallen out or been +destroyed by any decay or rheum." + +"Well, then," said Sancho, "in this lower side your worship has no more +than two grinders and a half, and in the upper neither a half nor any at +all, for it is all as smooth as the palm of my hand." + +"Luckless that I am!" said Don Quixote, hearing the sad news his squire +gave him; "I had rather they despoiled me of an arm, so it were not the +sword-arm; for I tell thee, Sancho, a mouth without teeth is like a mill +without a millstone, and a tooth is much more to be prized than a +diamond; but we who profess the austere order of chivalry are liable to +all this. Mount, friend, and lead the way, and I will follow thee at +whatever pace thou wilt." + +Sancho did as he bade him, and proceeded in the direction in which he +thought he might find refuge without quitting the high road, which was +there very much frequented. As they went along, then, at a slow pace--for +the pain in Don Quixote's jaws kept him uneasy and ill-disposed for +speed--Sancho thought it well to amuse and divert him by talk of some +kind, and among the things he said to him was that which will be told in +the following chapter. + +Chapter XIX. - +Of the shrewd discourse which Sancho held with his master, and of the +adventure that befell him with a dead body, together with other notable +occurrences + +"It seems to me, senor, that all these mishaps that have befallen us of +late have been without any doubt a punishment for the offence committed +by your worship against the order of chivalry in not keeping the oath you +made not to eat bread off a tablecloth or embrace the queen, and all the +rest of it that your worship swore to observe until you had taken that +helmet of Malandrino's, or whatever the Moor is called, for I do not very +well remember." + +"Thou art very right, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "but to tell the truth, +it had escaped my memory; and likewise thou mayest rely upon it that the +affair of the blanket happened to thee because of thy fault in not +reminding me of it in time; but I will make amends, for there are ways of +compounding for everything in the order of chivalry." + +"Why! have I taken an oath of some sort, then?" said Sancho. + +"It makes no matter that thou hast not taken an oath," said Don Quixote; +"suffice it that I see thou art not quite clear of complicity; and +whether or no, it will not be ill done to provide ourselves with a +remedy." + +"In that case," said Sancho, "mind that your worship does not forget this +as you did the oath; perhaps the phantoms may take it into their heads to +amuse themselves once more with me; or even with your worship if they see +you so obstinate." + +While engaged in this and other talk, night overtook them on the road +before they had reached or discovered any place of shelter; and what made +it still worse was that they were dying of hunger, for with the loss of +the alforjas they had lost their entire larder and commissariat; and to +complete the misfortune they met with an adventure which without any +invention had really the appearance of one. It so happened that the night +closed in somewhat darkly, but for all that they pushed on, Sancho +feeling sure that as the road was the king's highway they might +reasonably expect to find some inn within a league or two. Going along, +then, in this way, the night dark, the squire hungry, the master +sharp-set, they saw coming towards them on the road they were travelling +a great number of lights which looked exactly like stars in motion. +Sancho was taken aback at the sight of them, nor did Don Quixote +altogether relish them: the one pulled up his ass by the halter, the +other his hack by the bridle, and they stood still, watching anxiously to +see what all this would turn out to be, and found that the lights were +approaching them, and the nearer they came the greater they seemed, at +which spectacle Sancho began to shake like a man dosed with mercury, and +Don Quixote's hair stood on end; he, however, plucking up spirit a +little, said: + +"This, no doubt, Sancho, will be a most mighty and perilous adventure, in +which it will be needful for me to put forth all my valour and +resolution." + +"Unlucky me!" answered Sancho; "if this adventure happens to be one of +phantoms, as I am beginning to think it is, where shall I find the ribs +to bear it?" + +"Be they phantoms ever so much," said Don Quixote, "I will not permit +them to touch a thread of thy garments; for if they played tricks with +thee the time before, it was because I was unable to leap the walls of +the yard; but now we are on a wide plain, where I shall be able to wield +my sword as I please." + +"And if they enchant and cripple you as they did the last time," said +Sancho, "what difference will it make being on the open plain or not?" + +"For all that," replied Don Quixote, "I entreat thee, Sancho, to keep a +good heart, for experience will tell thee what mine is." + +"I will, please God," answered Sancho, and the two retiring to one side +of the road set themselves to observe closely what all these moving +lights might be; and very soon afterwards they made out some twenty +encamisados, all on horseback, with lighted torches in their hands, the +awe-inspiring aspect of whom completely extinguished the courage of +Sancho, who began to chatter with his teeth like one in the cold fit of +an ague; and his heart sank and his teeth chattered still more when they +perceived distinctly that behind them there came a litter covered over +with black and followed by six more mounted figures in mourning down to +the very feet of their mules--for they could perceive plainly they were +not horses by the easy pace at which they went. And as the encamisados +came along they muttered to themselves in a low plaintive tone. This +strange spectacle at such an hour and in such a solitary place was quite +enough to strike terror into Sancho's heart, and even into his master's; +and (save in Don Quixote's case) did so, for all Sancho's resolution had +now broken down. It was just the opposite with his master, whose +imagination immediately conjured up all this to him vividly as one of the +adventures of his books. + +He took it into his head that the litter was a bier on which was borne +some sorely wounded or slain knight, to avenge whom was a task reserved +for him alone; and without any further reasoning he laid his lance in +rest, fixed himself firmly in his saddle, and with gallant spirit and +bearing took up his position in the middle of the road where the +encamisados must of necessity pass; and as soon as he saw them near at +hand he raised his voice and said: + +"Halt, knights, or whosoever ye may be, and render me account of who ye +are, whence ye come, where ye go, what it is ye carry upon that bier, +for, to judge by appearances, either ye have done some wrong or some +wrong has been done to you, and it is fitting and necessary that I should +know, either that I may chastise you for the evil ye have done, or else +that I may avenge you for the injury that has been inflicted upon you." + +"We are in haste," answered one of the encamisados, "and the inn is far +off, and we cannot stop to render you such an account as you demand;" and +spurring his mule he moved on. + +Don Quixote was mightily provoked by this answer, and seizing the mule by +the bridle he said, "Halt, and be more mannerly, and render an account of +what I have asked of you; else, take my defiance to combat, all of you." + +The mule was shy, and was so frightened at her bridle being seized that +rearing up she flung her rider to the ground over her haunches. An +attendant who was on foot, seeing the encamisado fall, began to abuse Don +Quixote, who now moved to anger, without any more ado, laying his lance +in rest charged one of the men in mourning and brought him badly wounded +to the ground, and as he wheeled round upon the others the agility with +which he attacked and routed them was a sight to see, for it seemed just +as if wings had that instant grown upon Rocinante, so lightly and proudly +did he bear himself. The encamisados were all timid folk and unarmed, so +they speedily made their escape from the fray and set off at a run across +the plain with their lighted torches, looking exactly like maskers +running on some gala or festival night. The mourners, too, enveloped and +swathed in their skirts and gowns, were unable to bestir themselves, and +so with entire safety to himself Don Quixote belaboured them all and +drove them off against their will, for they all thought it was no man but +a devil from hell come to carry away the dead body they had in the +litter. + +Sancho beheld all this in astonishment at the intrepidity of his lord, +and said to himself, "Clearly this master of mine is as bold and valiant +as he says he is." + +A burning torch lay on the ground near the first man whom the mule had +thrown, by the light of which Don Quixote perceived him, and coming up to +him he presented the point of the lance to his face, calling on him to +yield himself prisoner, or else he would kill him; to which the prostrate +man replied, "I am prisoner enough as it is; I cannot stir, for one of my +legs is broken: I entreat you, if you be a Christian gentleman, not to +kill me, which will be committing grave sacrilege, for I am a licentiate +and I hold first orders." + +"Then what the devil brought you here, being a churchman?" said Don +Quixote. + +"What, senor?" said the other. "My bad luck." + +"Then still worse awaits you," said Don Quixote, "if you do not satisfy +me as to all I asked you at first." + +"You shall be soon satisfied," said the licentiate; "you must know, then, +that though just now I said I was a licentiate, I am only a bachelor, and +my name is Alonzo Lopez; I am a native of Alcobendas, I come from the +city of Baeza with eleven others, priests, the same who fled with the +torches, and we are going to the city of Segovia accompanying a dead body +which is in that litter, and is that of a gentleman who died in Baeza, +where he was interred; and now, as I said, we are taking his bones to +their burial-place, which is in Segovia, where he was born." + +"And who killed him?" asked Don Quixote. + +"God, by means of a malignant fever that took him," answered the +bachelor. + +"In that case," said Don Quixote, "the Lord has relieved me of the task +of avenging his death had any other slain him; but, he who slew him +having slain him, there is nothing for it but to be silent, and shrug +one's shoulders; I should do the same were he to slay myself; and I would +have your reverence know that I am a knight of La Mancha, Don Quixote by +name, and it is my business and calling to roam the world righting wrongs +and redressing injuries." + +"I do not know how that about righting wrongs can be," said the bachelor, +"for from straight you have made me crooked, leaving me with a broken leg +that will never see itself straight again all the days of its life; and +the injury you have redressed in my case has been to leave me injured in +such a way that I shall remain injured for ever; and the height of +misadventure it was to fall in with you who go in search of adventures." + +"Things do not all happen in the same way," answered Don Quixote; "it all +came, Sir Bachelor Alonzo Lopez, of your going, as you did, by night, +dressed in those surplices, with lighted torches, praying, covered with +mourning, so that naturally you looked like something evil and of the +other world; and so I could not avoid doing my duty in attacking you, and +I should have attacked you even had I known positively that you were the +very devils of hell, for such I certainly believed and took you to be." + +"As my fate has so willed it," said the bachelor, "I entreat you, sir +knight-errant, whose errand has been such an evil one for me, to help me +to get from under this mule that holds one of my legs caught between the +stirrup and the saddle." + +"I would have talked on till to-morrow," said Don Quixote; "how long were +you going to wait before telling me of your distress?" + +He at once called to Sancho, who, however, had no mind to come, as he was +just then engaged in unloading a sumpter mule, well laden with provender, +which these worthy gentlemen had brought with them. Sancho made a bag of +his coat, and, getting together as much as he could, and as the bag would +hold, he loaded his beast, and then hastened to obey his master's call, +and helped him to remove the bachelor from under the mule; then putting +him on her back he gave him the torch, and Don Quixote bade him follow +the track of his companions, and beg pardon of them on his part for the +wrong which he could not help doing them. + +And said Sancho, "If by chance these gentlemen should want to know who +was the hero that served them so, your worship may tell them that he is +the famous Don Quixote of La Mancha, otherwise called the Knight of the +Rueful Countenance." + +The bachelor then took his departure. + +I forgot to mention that before he did so he said to Don Quixote, +"Remember that you stand excommunicated for having laid violent hands on +a holy thing, juxta illud, si quis, suadente diabolo." + +"I do not understand that Latin," answered Don Quixote, "but I know well +I did not lay hands, only this pike; besides, I did not think I was +committing an assault upon priests or things of the Church, which, like a +Catholic and faithful Christian as I am, I respect and revere, but upon +phantoms and spectres of the other world; but even so, I remember how it +fared with Cid Ruy Diaz when he broke the chair of the ambassador of that +king before his Holiness the Pope, who excommunicated him for the same; +and yet the good Roderick of Vivar bore himself that day like a very +noble and valiant knight." + +On hearing this the bachelor took his departure, as has been said, +without making any reply; and Don Quixote asked Sancho what had induced +him to call him the "Knight of the Rueful Countenance" more then than at +any other time. + +"I will tell you," answered Sancho; "it was because I have been looking +at you for some time by the light of the torch held by that unfortunate, +and verily your worship has got of late the most ill-favoured countenance +I ever saw: it must be either owing to the fatigue of this combat, or +else to the want of teeth and grinders." + +"It is not that," replied Don Quixote, "but because the sage whose duty +it will be to write the history of my achievements must have thought it +proper that I should take some distinctive name as all knights of yore +did; one being 'He of the Burning Sword,' another 'He of the Unicorn,' +this one 'He of the Damsels,' that 'He of the Phoenix,' another 'The +Knight of the Griffin,' and another 'He of the Death,' and by these names +and designations they were known all the world round; and so I say that +the sage aforesaid must have put it into your mouth and mind just now to +call me 'The Knight of the Rueful Countenance,' as I intend to call +myself from this day forward; and that the said name may fit me better, I +mean, when the opportunity offers, to have a very rueful countenance +painted on my shield." + +"There is no occasion, senor, for wasting time or money on making that +countenance," said Sancho; "for all that need be done is for your worship +to show your own, face to face, to those who look at you, and without +anything more, either image or shield, they will call you 'Him of the +Rueful Countenance' and believe me I am telling you the truth, for I +assure you, senor (and in good part be it said), hunger and the loss of +your grinders have given you such an ill-favoured face that, as I say, +the rueful picture may be very well spared." + +Don Quixote laughed at Sancho's pleasantry; nevertheless he resolved to +call himself by that name, and have his shield or buckler painted as he +had devised. + +Don Quixote would have looked to see whether the body in the litter were +bones or not, but Sancho would not have it, saying: + +"Senor, you have ended this perilous adventure more safely for yourself +than any of those I have seen: perhaps these people, though beaten and +routed, may bethink themselves that it is a single man that has beaten +them, and feeling sore and ashamed of it may take heart and come in +search of us and give us trouble enough. The ass is in proper trim, the +mountains are near at hand, hunger presses, we have nothing more to do +but make good our retreat, and, as the saying is, the dead to the grave +and the living to the loaf." + +And driving his ass before him he begged his master to follow, who, +feeling that Sancho was right, did so without replying; and after +proceeding some little distance between two hills they found themselves +in a wide and retired valley, where they alighted, and Sancho unloaded +his beast, and stretched upon the green grass, with hunger for sauce, +they breakfasted, dined, lunched, and supped all at once, satisfying +their appetites with more than one store of cold meat which the dead +man's clerical gentlemen (who seldom put themselves on short allowance) +had brought with them on their sumpter mule. But another piece of +ill-luck befell them, which Sancho held the worst of all, and that was +that they had no wine to drink, nor even water to moisten their lips; and +as thirst tormented them, Sancho, observing that the meadow where they +were was full of green and tender grass, said what will be told in the +following chapter. + +Chapter XX. - +Of the unexampled and unheard-of adventure which was achieved by the +valiant Don Quixote of La Mancha with less peril than any ever achieved +by any famous Knight in the world + +"It cannot be, senor, but that this grass is a proof that there must be +hard by some spring or brook to give it moisture, so it would be well to +move a little farther on, that we may find some place where we may quench +this terrible thirst that plagues us, which beyond a doubt is more +distressing than hunger." + +The advice seemed good to Don Quixote, and, he leading Rocinante by the +bridle and Sancho the ass by the halter, after he had packed away upon +him the remains of the supper, they advanced the meadow feeling their +way, for the darkness of the night made it impossible to see anything; +but they had not gone two hundred paces when a loud noise of water, as if +falling from great rocks, struck their ears. The sound cheered them +greatly; but halting to make out by listening from what quarter it came +they heard unseasonably another noise which spoiled the satisfaction the +sound of the water gave them, especially for Sancho, who was by nature +timid and faint-hearted. They heard, I say, strokes falling with a +measured beat, and a certain rattling of iron and chains that, together +with the furious din of the water, would have struck terror into any +heart but Don Quixote's. The night was, as has been said, dark, and they +had happened to reach a spot in among some tall trees, whose leaves +stirred by a gentle breeze made a low ominous sound; so that, what with +the solitude, the place, the darkness, the noise of the water, and the +rustling of the leaves, everything inspired awe and dread; more +especially as they perceived that the strokes did not cease, nor the wind +lull, nor morning approach; to all which might be added their ignorance +as to where they were. + +But Don Quixote, supported by his intrepid heart, leaped on Rocinante, +and bracing his buckler on his arm, brought his pike to the slope, and +said, "Friend Sancho, know that I by Heaven's will have been born in this +our iron age to revive revive in it the age of gold, or the golden as it +is called; I am he for whom perils, mighty achievements, and valiant +deeds are reserved; I am, I say again, he who is to revive the Knights of +the Round Table, the Twelve of France and the Nine Worthies; and he who +is to consign to oblivion the Platirs, the Tablantes, the Olivantes and +Tirantes, the Phoebuses and Belianises, with the whole herd of famous +knights-errant of days gone by, performing in these in which I live such +exploits, marvels, and feats of arms as shall obscure their brightest +deeds. Thou dost mark well, faithful and trusty squire, the gloom of this +night, its strange silence, the dull confused murmur of those trees, the +awful sound of that water in quest of which we came, that seems as though +it were precipitating and dashing itself down from the lofty mountains of +the Moon, and that incessant hammering that wounds and pains our ears; +which things all together and each of itself are enough to instil fear, +dread, and dismay into the breast of Mars himself, much more into one not +used to hazards and adventures of the kind. Well, then, all this that I +put before thee is but an incentive and stimulant to my spirit, making my +heart burst in my bosom through eagerness to engage in this adventure, +arduous as it promises to be; therefore tighten Rocinante's girths a +little, and God be with thee; wait for me here three days and no more, +and if in that time I come not back, thou canst return to our village, +and thence, to do me a favour and a service, thou wilt go to El Toboso, +where thou shalt say to my incomparable lady Dulcinea that her captive +knight hath died in attempting things that might make him worthy of being +called hers." + +When Sancho heard his master's words he began to weep in the most +pathetic way, saying: + +"Senor, I know not why your worship wants to attempt this so dreadful +adventure; it is night now, no one sees us here, we can easily turn about +and take ourselves out of danger, even if we don't drink for three days +to come; and as there is no one to see us, all the less will there be +anyone to set us down as cowards; besides, I have many a time heard the +curate of our village, whom your worship knows well, preach that he who +seeks danger perishes in it; so it is not right to tempt God by trying so +tremendous a feat from which there can be no escape save by a miracle, +and Heaven has performed enough of them for your worship in delivering +you from being blanketed as I was, and bringing you out victorious and +safe and sound from among all those enemies that were with the dead man; +and if all this does not move or soften that hard heart, let this thought +and reflection move it, that you will have hardly quitted this spot when +from pure fear I shall yield my soul up to anyone that will take it. I +left home and wife and children to come and serve your worship, trusting +to do better and not worse; but as covetousness bursts the bag, it has +rent my hopes asunder, for just as I had them highest about getting that +wretched unlucky island your worship has so often promised me, I see that +instead and in lieu of it you mean to desert me now in a place so far +from human reach: for God's sake, master mine, deal not so unjustly by +me, and if your worship will not entirely give up attempting this feat, +at least put it off till morning, for by what the lore I learned when I +was a shepherd tells me it cannot want three hours of dawn now, because +the mouth of the Horn is overhead and makes midnight in the line of the +left arm." + +"How canst thou see, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "where it makes that +line, or where this mouth or this occiput is that thou talkest of, when +the night is so dark that there is not a star to be seen in the whole +heaven?" + +"That's true," said Sancho, "but fear has sharp eyes, and sees things +underground, much more above in heavens; besides, there is good reason to +show that it now wants but little of day." + +"Let it want what it may," replied Don Quixote, "it shall not be said of +me now or at any time that tears or entreaties turned me aside from doing +what was in accordance with knightly usage; and so I beg of thee, Sancho, +to hold thy peace, for God, who has put it into my heart to undertake now +this so unexampled and terrible adventure, will take care to watch over +my safety and console thy sorrow; what thou hast to do is to tighten +Rocinante's girths well, and wait here, for I shall come back shortly, +alive or dead." + +Sancho perceiving it his master's final resolve, and how little his +tears, counsels, and entreaties prevailed with him, determined to have +recourse to his own ingenuity and compel him, if he could, to wait till +daylight; and so, while tightening the girths of the horse, he quietly +and without being felt, with his ass' halter tied both Rocinante's legs, +so that when Don Quixote strove to go he was unable as the horse could +only move by jumps. Seeing the success of his trick, Sancho Panza said: + +"See there, senor! Heaven, moved by my tears and prayers, has so ordered +it that Rocinante cannot stir; and if you will be obstinate, and spur and +strike him, you will only provoke fortune, and kick, as they say, against +the pricks." + +Don Quixote at this grew desperate, but the more he drove his heels into +the horse, the less he stirred him; and not having any suspicion of the +tying, he was fain to resign himself and wait till daybreak or until +Rocinante could move, firmly persuaded that all this came of something +other than Sancho's ingenuity. So he said to him, "As it is so, Sancho, +and as Rocinante cannot move, I am content to wait till dawn smiles upon +us, even though I weep while it delays its coming." + +"There is no need to weep," answered Sancho, "for I will amuse your +worship by telling stories from this till daylight, unless indeed you +like to dismount and lie down to sleep a little on the green grass after +the fashion of knights-errant, so as to be fresher when day comes and the +moment arrives for attempting this extraordinary adventure you are +looking forward to." + +"What art thou talking about dismounting or sleeping for?" said Don +Quixote. "Am I, thinkest thou, one of those knights that take their rest +in the presence of danger? Sleep thou who art born to sleep, or do as +thou wilt, for I will act as I think most consistent with my character." + +"Be not angry, master mine," replied Sancho, "I did not mean to say +that;" and coming close to him he laid one hand on the pommel of the +saddle and the other on the cantle so that he held his master's left +thigh in his embrace, not daring to separate a finger's width from him; +so much afraid was he of the strokes which still resounded with a regular +beat. Don Quixote bade him tell some story to amuse him as he had +proposed, to which Sancho replied that he would if his dread of what he +heard would let him; "Still," said he, "I will strive to tell a story +which, if I can manage to relate it, and nobody interferes with the +telling, is the best of stories, and let your worship give me your +attention, for here I begin. What was, was; and may the good that is to +come be for all, and the evil for him who goes to look for it--your +worship must know that the beginning the old folk used to put to their +tales was not just as each one pleased; it was a maxim of Cato Zonzorino +the Roman, that says 'the evil for him that goes to look for it,' and it +comes as pat to the purpose now as ring to finger, to show that your +worship should keep quiet and not go looking for evil in any quarter, and +that we should go back by some other road, since nobody forces us to +follow this in which so many terrors affright us." + +"Go on with thy story, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and leave the choice +of our road to my care." + +"I say then," continued Sancho, "that in a village of Estremadura there +was a goat-shepherd--that is to say, one who tended goats--which shepherd +or goatherd, as my story goes, was called Lope Ruiz, and this Lope Ruiz +was in love with a shepherdess called Torralva, which shepherdess called +Torralva was the daughter of a rich grazier, and this rich grazier-" + +"If that is the way thou tellest thy tale, Sancho," said Don Quixote, +"repeating twice all thou hast to say, thou wilt not have done these two +days; go straight on with it, and tell it like a reasonable man, or else +say nothing." + +"Tales are always told in my country in the very way I am telling this," +answered Sancho, "and I cannot tell it in any other, nor is it right of +your worship to ask me to make new customs." + +"Tell it as thou wilt," replied Don Quixote; "and as fate will have it +that I cannot help listening to thee, go on." + +"And so, lord of my soul," continued Sancho, as I have said, this +shepherd was in love with Torralva the shepherdess, who was a wild buxom +lass with something of the look of a man about her, for she had little +moustaches; I fancy I see her now." + +"Then you knew her?" said Don Quixote. + +"I did not know her," said Sancho, "but he who told me the story said it +was so true and certain that when I told it to another I might safely +declare and swear I had seen it all myself. And so in course of time, the +devil, who never sleeps and puts everything in confusion, contrived that +the love the shepherd bore the shepherdess turned into hatred and +ill-will, and the reason, according to evil tongues, was some little +jealousy she caused him that crossed the line and trespassed on forbidden +ground; and so much did the shepherd hate her from that time forward +that, in order to escape from her, he determined to quit the country and +go where he should never set eyes on her again. Torralva, when she found +herself spurned by Lope, was immediately smitten with love for him, +though she had never loved him before." + +"That is the natural way of women," said Don Quixote, "to scorn the one +that loves them, and love the one that hates them: go on, Sancho." + +"It came to pass," said Sancho, "that the shepherd carried out his +intention, and driving his goats before him took his way across the +plains of Estremadura to pass over into the Kingdom of Portugal. +Torralva, who knew of it, went after him, and on foot and barefoot +followed him at a distance, with a pilgrim's staff in her hand and a +scrip round her neck, in which she carried, it is said, a bit of +looking-glass and a piece of a comb and some little pot or other of paint +for her face; but let her carry what she did, I am not going to trouble +myself to prove it; all I say is, that the shepherd, they say, came with +his flock to cross over the river Guadiana, which was at that time +swollen and almost overflowing its banks, and at the spot he came to +there was neither ferry nor boat nor anyone to carry him or his flock to +the other side, at which he was much vexed, for he perceived that +Torralva was approaching and would give him great annoyance with her +tears and entreaties; however, he went looking about so closely that he +discovered a fisherman who had alongside of him a boat so small that it +could only hold one person and one goat; but for all that he spoke to him +and agreed with him to carry himself and his three hundred goats across. +The fisherman got into the boat and carried one goat over; he came back +and carried another over; he came back again, and again brought over +another--let your worship keep count of the goats the fisherman is taking +across, for if one escapes the memory there will be an end of the story, +and it will be impossible to tell another word of it. To proceed, I must +tell you the landing place on the other side was miry and slippery, and +the fisherman lost a great deal of time in going and coming; still he +returned for another goat, and another, and another." + +"Take it for granted he brought them all across," said Don Quixote, "and +don't keep going and coming in this way, or thou wilt not make an end of +bringing them over this twelvemonth." + +"How many have gone across so far?" said Sancho. + +"How the devil do I know?" replied Don Quixote. + +"There it is," said Sancho, "what I told you, that you must keep a good +count; well then, by God, there is an end of the story, for there is no +going any farther." + +"How can that be?" said Don Quixote; "is it so essential to the story to +know to a nicety the goats that have crossed over, that if there be a +mistake of one in the reckoning, thou canst not go on with it?" + +"No, senor, not a bit," replied Sancho; "for when I asked your worship to +tell me how many goats had crossed, and you answered you did not know, at +that very instant all I had to say passed away out of my memory, and, +faith, there was much virtue in it, and entertainment." + +"So, then," said Don Quixote, "the story has come to an end?" + +"As much as my mother has," said Sancho. + +"In truth," said Don Quixote, "thou hast told one of the rarest stories, +tales, or histories, that anyone in the world could have imagined, and +such a way of telling it and ending it was never seen nor will be in a +lifetime; though I expected nothing else from thy excellent +understanding. But I do not wonder, for perhaps those ceaseless strokes +may have confused thy wits." + +"All that may be," replied Sancho, "but I know that as to my story, all +that can be said is that it ends there where the mistake in the count of +the passage of the goats begins." + +"Let it end where it will, well and good," said Don Quixote, "and let us +see if Rocinante can go;" and again he spurred him, and again Rocinante +made jumps and remained where he was, so well tied was he. + +Just then, whether it was the cold of the morning that was now +approaching, or that he had eaten something laxative at supper, or that +it was only natural (as is most likely), Sancho felt a desire to do what +no one could do for him; but so great was the fear that had penetrated +his heart, he dared not separate himself from his master by as much as +the black of his nail; to escape doing what he wanted was, however, also +impossible; so what he did for peace's sake was to remove his right hand, +which held the back of the saddle, and with it to untie gently and +silently the running string which alone held up his breeches, so that on +loosening it they at once fell down round his feet like fetters; he then +raised his shirt as well as he could and bared his hind quarters, no slim +ones. But, this accomplished, which he fancied was all he had to do to +get out of this terrible strait and embarrassment, another still greater +difficulty presented itself, for it seemed to him impossible to relieve +himself without making some noise, and he ground his teeth and squeezed +his shoulders together, holding his breath as much as he could; but in +spite of his precautions he was unlucky enough after all to make a little +noise, very different from that which was causing him so much fear. + +Don Quixote, hearing it, said, "What noise is that, Sancho?" + +"I don't know, senor," said he; "it must be something new, for adventures +and misadventures never begin with a trifle." Once more he tried his +luck, and succeeded so well, that without any further noise or +disturbance he found himself relieved of the burden that had given him so +much discomfort. But as Don Quixote's sense of smell was as acute as his +hearing, and as Sancho was so closely linked with him that the fumes rose +almost in a straight line, it could not be but that some should reach his +nose, and as soon as they did he came to its relief by compressing it +between his fingers, saying in a rather snuffing tone, "Sancho, it +strikes me thou art in great fear." + +"I am," answered Sancho; "but how does your worship perceive it now more +than ever?" + +"Because just now thou smellest stronger than ever, and not of +ambergris," answered Don Quixote. + +"Very likely," said Sancho, "but that's not my fault, but your worship's, +for leading me about at unseasonable hours and at such unwonted paces." + +"Then go back three or four, my friend," said Don Quixote, all the time +with his fingers to his nose; "and for the future pay more attention to +thy person and to what thou owest to mine; for it is my great familiarity +with thee that has bred this contempt." + +"I'll bet," replied Sancho, "that your worship thinks I have done +something I ought not with my person." + +"It makes it worse to stir it, friend Sancho," returned Don Quixote. + +With this and other talk of the same sort master and man passed the +night, till Sancho, perceiving that daybreak was coming on apace, very +cautiously untied Rocinante and tied up his breeches. As soon as +Rocinante found himself free, though by nature he was not at all +mettlesome, he seemed to feel lively and began pawing--for as to +capering, begging his pardon, he knew not what it meant. Don Quixote, +then, observing that Rocinante could move, took it as a good sign and a +signal that he should attempt the dread adventure. By this time day had +fully broken and everything showed distinctly, and Don Quixote saw that +he was among some tall trees, chestnuts, which cast a very deep shade; he +perceived likewise that the sound of the strokes did not cease, but could +not discover what caused it, and so without any further delay he let +Rocinante feel the spur, and once more taking leave of Sancho, he told +him to wait for him there three days at most, as he had said before, and +if he should not have returned by that time, he might feel sure it had +been God's will that he should end his days in that perilous adventure. +He again repeated the message and commission with which he was to go on +his behalf to his lady Dulcinea, and said he was not to be uneasy as to +the payment of his services, for before leaving home he had made his +will, in which he would find himself fully recompensed in the matter of +wages in due proportion to the time he had served; but if God delivered +him safe, sound, and unhurt out of that danger, he might look upon the +promised island as much more than certain. Sancho began to weep afresh on +again hearing the affecting words of his good master, and resolved to +stay with him until the final issue and end of the business. From these +tears and this honourable resolve of Sancho Panza's the author of this +history infers that he must have been of good birth and at least an old +Christian; and the feeling he displayed touched his but not so much as to +make him show any weakness; on the contrary, hiding what he felt as well +as he could, he began to move towards that quarter whence the sound of +the water and of the strokes seemed to come. + +Sancho followed him on foot, leading by the halter, as his custom was, +his ass, his constant comrade in prosperity or adversity; and advancing +some distance through the shady chestnut trees they came upon a little +meadow at the foot of some high rocks, down which a mighty rush of water +flung itself. At the foot of the rocks were some rudely constructed +houses looking more like ruins than houses, from among which came, they +perceived, the din and clatter of blows, which still continued without +intermission. Rocinante took fright at the noise of the water and of the +blows, but quieting him Don Quixote advanced step by step towards the +houses, commending himself with all his heart to his lady, imploring her +support in that dread pass and enterprise, and on the way commending +himself to God, too, not to forget him. Sancho who never quitted his +side, stretched his neck as far as he could and peered between the legs +of Rocinante to see if he could now discover what it was that caused him +such fear and apprehension. They went it might be a hundred paces +farther, when on turning a corner the true cause, beyond the possibility +of any mistake, of that dread-sounding and to them awe-inspiring noise +that had kept them all the night in such fear and perplexity, appeared +plain and obvious; and it was (if, reader, thou art not disgusted and +disappointed) six fulling hammers which by their alternate strokes made +all the din. + +When Don Quixote perceived what it was, he was struck dumb and rigid from +head to foot. Sancho glanced at him and saw him with his head bent down +upon his breast in manifest mortification; and Don Quixote glanced at +Sancho and saw him with his cheeks puffed out and his mouth full of +laughter, and evidently ready to explode with it, and in spite of his +vexation he could not help laughing at the sight of him; and when Sancho +saw his master begin he let go so heartily that he had to hold his sides +with both hands to keep himself from bursting with laughter. Four times +he stopped, and as many times did his laughter break out afresh with the +same violence as at first, whereat Don Quixote grew furious, above all +when he heard him say mockingly, "Thou must know, friend Sancho, that of +Heaven's will I was born in this our iron age to revive in it the golden +or age of gold; I am he for whom are reserved perils, mighty +achievements, valiant deeds;" and here he went on repeating the words +that Don Quixote uttered the first time they heard the awful strokes. + +Don Quixote, then, seeing that Sancho was turning him into ridicule, was +so mortified and vexed that he lifted up his pike and smote him two such +blows that if, instead of catching them on his shoulders, he had caught +them on his head there would have been no wages to pay, unless indeed to +his heirs. Sancho seeing that he was getting an awkward return in earnest +for his jest, and fearing his master might carry it still further, said +to him very humbly, "Calm yourself, sir, for by God I am only joking." + +"Well, then, if you are joking I am not," replied Don Quixote. "Look +here, my lively gentleman, if these, instead of being fulling hammers, +had been some perilous adventure, have I not, think you, shown the +courage required for the attempt and achievement? Am I, perchance, being, +as I am, a gentleman, bound to know and distinguish sounds and tell +whether they come from fulling mills or not; and that, when perhaps, as +is the case, I have never in my life seen any as you have, low boor as +you are, that have been born and bred among them? But turn me these six +hammers into six giants, and bring them to beard me, one by one or all +together, and if I do not knock them head over heels, then make what +mockery you like of me." + +"No more of that, senor," returned Sancho; "I own I went a little too far +with the joke. But tell me, your worship, now that peace is made between +us (and may God bring you out of all the adventures that may befall you +as safe and sound as he has brought you out of this one), was it not a +thing to laugh at, and is it not a good story, the great fear we were +in?--at least that I was in; for as to your worship I see now that you +neither know nor understand what either fear or dismay is." + +"I do not deny," said Don Quixote, "that what happened to us may be worth +laughing at, but it is not worth making a story about, for it is not +everyone that is shrewd enough to hit the right point of a thing." + +"At any rate," said Sancho, "your worship knew how to hit the right point +with your pike, aiming at my head and hitting me on the shoulders, thanks +be to God and my own smartness in dodging it. But let that pass; all will +come out in the scouring; for I have heard say 'he loves thee well that +makes thee weep;' and moreover that it is the way with great lords after +any hard words they give a servant to give him a pair of breeches; though +I do not know what they give after blows, unless it be that +knights-errant after blows give islands, or kingdoms on the mainland." + +"It may be on the dice," said Don Quixote, "that all thou sayest will +come true; overlook the past, for thou art shrewd enough to know that our +first movements are not in our own control; and one thing for the future +bear in mind, that thou curb and restrain thy loquacity in my company; +for in all the books of chivalry that I have read, and they are +innumerable, I never met with a squire who talked so much to his lord as +thou dost to thine; and in fact I feel it to be a great fault of thine +and of mine: of thine, that thou hast so little respect for me; of mine, +that I do not make myself more respected. There was Gandalin, the squire +of Amadis of Gaul, that was Count of the Insula Firme, and we read of him +that he always addressed his lord with his cap in his hand, his head +bowed down and his body bent double, more turquesco. And then, what shall +we say of Gasabal, the squire of Galaor, who was so silent that in order +to indicate to us the greatness of his marvellous taciturnity his name is +only once mentioned in the whole of that history, as long as it is +truthful? From all I have said thou wilt gather, Sancho, that there must +be a difference between master and man, between lord and lackey, between +knight and squire: so that from this day forward in our intercourse we +must observe more respect and take less liberties, for in whatever way I +may be provoked with you it will be bad for the pitcher. The favours and +benefits that I have promised you will come in due time, and if they do +not your wages at least will not be lost, as I have already told you." + +"All that your worship says is very well," said Sancho, "but I should +like to know (in case the time of favours should not come, and it might +be necessary to fall back upon wages) how much did the squire of a +knight-errant get in those days, and did they agree by the month, or by +the day like bricklayers?" + +"I do not believe," replied Don Quixote, "that such squires were ever on +wages, but were dependent on favour; and if I have now mentioned thine in +the sealed will I have left at home, it was with a view to what may +happen; for as yet I know not how chivalry will turn out in these +wretched times of ours, and I do not wish my soul to suffer for trifles +in the other world; for I would have thee know, Sancho, that in this +there is no condition more hazardous than that of adventurers." + +"That is true," said Sancho, "since the mere noise of the hammers of a +fulling mill can disturb and disquiet the heart of such a valiant errant +adventurer as your worship; but you may be sure I will not open my lips +henceforward to make light of anything of your worship's, but only to +honour you as my master and natural lord." + +"By so doing," replied Don Quixote, "shalt thou live long on the face of +the earth; for next to parents, masters are to be respected as though +they were parents." + +Chapter XXI. - +Which treats of the exalted adventure and rich prize of Mambrino's +helmet, together with other things that happened to our invincible Knight + +It now began to rain a little, and Sancho was for going into the fulling +mills, but Don Quixote had taken such an abhorrence to them on account of +the late joke that he would not enter them on any account; so turning +aside to right they came upon another road, different from that which +they had taken the night before. Shortly afterwards Don Quixote perceived +a man on horseback who wore on his head something that shone like gold, +and the moment he saw him he turned to Sancho and said: + +"I think, Sancho, there is no proverb that is not true, all being maxims +drawn from experience itself, the mother of all the sciences, especially +that one that says, 'Where one door shuts, another opens.' I say so +because if last night fortune shut the door of the adventure we were +looking for against us, cheating us with the fulling mills, it now opens +wide another one for another better and more certain adventure, and if I +do not contrive to enter it, it will be my own fault, and I cannot lay it +to my ignorance of fulling mills, or the darkness of the night. I say +this because, if I mistake not, there comes towards us one who wears on +his head the helmet of Mambrino, concerning which I took the oath thou +rememberest." + +"Mind what you say, your worship, and still more what you do," said +Sancho, "for I don't want any more fulling mills to finish off fulling +and knocking our senses out." + +"The devil take thee, man," said Don Quixote; "what has a helmet to do +with fulling mills?" + +"I don't know," replied Sancho, "but, faith, if I might speak as I used, +perhaps I could give such reasons that your worship would see you were +mistaken in what you say." + +"How can I be mistaken in what I say, unbelieving traitor?" returned Don +Quixote; "tell me, seest thou not yonder knight coming towards us on a +dappled grey steed, who has upon his head a helmet of gold?" + +"What I see and make out," answered Sancho, "is only a man on a grey ass +like my own, who has something that shines on his head." + +"Well, that is the helmet of Mambrino," said Don Quixote; "stand to one +side and leave me alone with him; thou shalt see how, without saying a +word, to save time, I shall bring this adventure to an issue and possess +myself of the helmet I have so longed for." + +"I will take care to stand aside," said Sancho; "but God grant, I say +once more, that it may be marjoram and not fulling mills." + +"I have told thee, brother, on no account to mention those fulling mills +to me again," said Don Quixote, "or I vow--and I say no more-I'll full +the soul out of you." + +Sancho held his peace in dread lest his master should carry out the vow +he had hurled like a bowl at him. + +The fact of the matter as regards the helmet, steed, and knight that Don +Quixote saw, was this. In that neighbourhood there were two villages, one +of them so small that it had neither apothecary's shop nor barber, which +the other that was close to it had, so the barber of the larger served +the smaller, and in it there was a sick man who required to be bled and +another man who wanted to be shaved, and on this errand the barber was +going, carrying with him a brass basin; but as luck would have it, as he +was on the way it began to rain, and not to spoil his hat, which probably +was a new one, he put the basin on his head, and being clean it glittered +at half a league's distance. He rode upon a grey ass, as Sancho said, and +this was what made it seem to Don Quixote to be a dapple-grey steed and a +knight and a golden helmet; for everything he saw he made to fall in with +his crazy chivalry and ill-errant notions; and when he saw the poor +knight draw near, without entering into any parley with him, at +Rocinante's top speed he bore down upon him with the pike pointed low, +fully determined to run him through and through, and as he reached him, +without checking the fury of his charge, he cried to him: + +"Defend thyself, miserable being, or yield me of thine own accord that +which is so reasonably my due." + +The barber, who without any expectation or apprehension of it saw this +apparition coming down upon him, had no other way of saving himself from +the stroke of the lance but to let himself fall off his ass; and no +sooner had he touched the ground than he sprang up more nimbly than a +deer and sped away across the plain faster than the wind. + +He left the basin on the ground, with which Don Quixote contented +himself, saying that the pagan had shown his discretion and imitated the +beaver, which finding itself pressed by the hunters bites and cuts off +with its teeth that for which, by its natural instinct, it knows it is +pursued. + +He told Sancho to pick up the helmet, and he taking it in his hands said: + +"By God the basin is a good one, and worth a real of eight if it is worth +a maravedis," and handed it to his master, who immediately put it on his +head, turning it round, now this way, now that, in search of fitment, and +not finding it he said, "Clearly the pagan to whose measure this famous +head-piece was first forged must have had a very large head; but the +worst of it is half of it is wanting." + +When Sancho heard him call the basin a headpiece he was unable to +restrain his laughter, but remembering his master's wrath he checked +himself in the midst of it. + +"What art thou laughing at, Sancho?" said Don Quixote. + +"I am laughing," said he, "to think of the great head the pagan must have +had who owned this helmet, for it looks exactly like a regular barber's +basin." + +"Dost thou know what I suspect, Sancho?" said Don Quixote; "that this +wonderful piece of this enchanted helmet must by some strange accident +have come into the hands of some one who was unable to recognise or +realise its value, and who, not knowing what he did, and seeing it to be +of the purest gold, must have melted down one half for the sake of what +it might be worth, and of the other made this which is like a barber's +basin as thou sayest; but be it as it may, to me who recognise it, its +transformation makes no difference, for I will set it to rights at the +first village where there is a blacksmith, and in such style that that +helmet the god of smithies forged for the god of battles shall not +surpass it or even come up to it; and in the meantime I will wear it as +well as I can, for something is better than nothing; all the more as it +will be quite enough to protect me from any chance blow of a stone." + +"That is," said Sancho, "if it is not shot with a sling as they were in +the battle of the two armies, when they signed the cross on your +worship's grinders and smashed the flask with that blessed draught that +made me vomit my bowels up." + +"It does not grieve me much to have lost it," said Don Quixote, "for thou +knowest, Sancho, that I have the receipt in my memory." + +"So have I," answered Sancho, "but if ever I make it, or try it again as +long as I live, may this be my last hour; moreover, I have no intention +of putting myself in the way of wanting it, for I mean, with all my five +senses, to keep myself from being wounded or from wounding anyone: as to +being blanketed again I say nothing, for it is hard to prevent mishaps of +that sort, and if they come there is nothing for it but to squeeze our +shoulders together, hold our breath, shut our eyes, and let ourselves go +where luck and the blanket may send us." + +"Thou art a bad Christian, Sancho," said Don Quixote on hearing this, +"for once an injury has been done thee thou never forgettest it: but know +that it is the part of noble and generous hearts not to attach importance +to trifles. What lame leg hast thou got by it, what broken rib, what +cracked head, that thou canst not forget that jest? For jest and sport it +was, properly regarded, and had I not seen it in that light I would have +returned and done more mischief in revenging thee than the Greeks did for +the rape of Helen, who, if she were alive now, or if my Dulcinea had +lived then, might depend upon it she would not be so famous for her +beauty as she is;" and here he heaved a sigh and sent it aloft; and said +Sancho, "Let it pass for a jest as it cannot be revenged in earnest, but +I know what sort of jest and earnest it was, and I know it will never be +rubbed out of my memory any more than off my shoulders. But putting that +aside, will your worship tell me what are we to do with this dapple-grey +steed that looks like a grey ass, which that Martino that your worship +overthrew has left deserted here? for, from the way he took to his heels +and bolted, he is not likely ever to come back for it; and by my beard +but the grey is a good one." + +"I have never been in the habit," said Don Quixote, "of taking spoil of +those whom I vanquish, nor is it the practice of chivalry to take away +their horses and leave them to go on foot, unless indeed it be that the +victor have lost his own in the combat, in which case it is lawful to +take that of the vanquished as a thing won in lawful war; therefore, +Sancho, leave this horse, or ass, or whatever thou wilt have it to be; +for when its owner sees us gone hence he will come back for it." + +"God knows I should like to take it," returned Sancho, "or at least to +change it for my own, which does not seem to me as good a one: verily the +laws of chivalry are strict, since they cannot be stretched to let one +ass be changed for another; I should like to know if I might at least +change trappings." + +"On that head I am not quite certain," answered Don Quixote, "and the +matter being doubtful, pending better information, I say thou mayest +change them, if so be thou hast urgent need of them." + +"So urgent is it," answered Sancho, "that if they were for my own person +I could not want them more;" and forthwith, fortified by this licence, he +effected the mutatio capparum, rigging out his beast to the ninety-nines +and making quite another thing of it. This done, they broke their fast on +the remains of the spoils of war plundered from the sumpter mule, and +drank of the brook that flowed from the fulling mills, without casting a +look in that direction, in such loathing did they hold them for the alarm +they had caused them; and, all anger and gloom removed, they mounted and, +without taking any fixed road (not to fix upon any being the proper thing +for true knights-errant), they set out, guided by Rocinante's will, which +carried along with it that of his master, not to say that of the ass, +which always followed him wherever he led, lovingly and sociably; +nevertheless they returned to the high road, and pursued it at a venture +without any other aim. + +As they went along, then, in this way Sancho said to his master, "Senor, +would your worship give me leave to speak a little to you? For since you +laid that hard injunction of silence on me several things have gone to +rot in my stomach, and I have now just one on the tip of my tongue that I +don't want to be spoiled." + +"Say, on, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and be brief in thy discourse, for +there is no pleasure in one that is long." + +"Well then, senor," returned Sancho, "I say that for some days past I +have been considering how little is got or gained by going in search of +these adventures that your worship seeks in these wilds and cross-roads, +where, even if the most perilous are victoriously achieved, there is no +one to see or know of them, and so they must be left untold for ever, to +the loss of your worship's object and the credit they deserve; therefore +it seems to me it would be better (saving your worship's better judgment) +if we were to go and serve some emperor or other great prince who may +have some war on hand, in whose service your worship may prove the worth +of your person, your great might, and greater understanding, on +perceiving which the lord in whose service we may be will perforce have +to reward us, each according to his merits; and there you will not be at +a loss for some one to set down your achievements in writing so as to +preserve their memory for ever. Of my own I say nothing, as they will not +go beyond squirely limits, though I make bold to say that, if it be the +practice in chivalry to write the achievements of squires, I think mine +must not be left out." + +"Thou speakest not amiss, Sancho," answered Don Quixote, "but before that +point is reached it is requisite to roam the world, as it were on +probation, seeking adventures, in order that, by achieving some, name and +fame may be acquired, such that when he betakes himself to the court of +some great monarch the knight may be already known by his deeds, and that +the boys, the instant they see him enter the gate of the city, may all +follow him and surround him, crying, 'This is the Knight of the Sun'-or +the Serpent, or any other title under which he may have achieved great +deeds. 'This,' they will say, 'is he who vanquished in single combat the +gigantic Brocabruno of mighty strength; he who delivered the great +Mameluke of Persia out of the long enchantment under which he had been +for almost nine hundred years.' So from one to another they will go +proclaiming his achievements; and presently at the tumult of the boys and +the others the king of that kingdom will appear at the windows of his +royal palace, and as soon as he beholds the knight, recognising him by +his arms and the device on his shield, he will as a matter of course say, +'What ho! Forth all ye, the knights of my court, to receive the flower of +chivalry who cometh hither!' At which command all will issue forth, and +he himself, advancing half-way down the stairs, will embrace him closely, +and salute him, kissing him on the cheek, and will then lead him to the +queen's chamber, where the knight will find her with the princess her +daughter, who will be one of the most beautiful and accomplished damsels +that could with the utmost pains be discovered anywhere in the known +world. Straightway it will come to pass that she will fix her eyes upon +the knight and he his upon her, and each will seem to the other something +more divine than human, and, without knowing how or why they will be +taken and entangled in the inextricable toils of love, and sorely +distressed in their hearts not to see any way of making their pains and +sufferings known by speech. Thence they will lead him, no doubt, to some +richly adorned chamber of the palace, where, having removed his armour, +they will bring him a rich mantle of scarlet wherewith to robe himself, +and if he looked noble in his armour he will look still more so in a +doublet. When night comes he will sup with the king, queen, and princess; +and all the time he will never take his eyes off her, stealing stealthy +glances, unnoticed by those present, and she will do the same, and with +equal cautiousness, being, as I have said, a damsel of great discretion. +The tables being removed, suddenly through the door of the hall there +will enter a hideous and diminutive dwarf followed by a fair dame, +between two giants, who comes with a certain adventure, the work of an +ancient sage; and he who shall achieve it shall be deemed the best knight +in the world. + +"The king will then command all those present to essay it, and none will +bring it to an end and conclusion save the stranger knight, to the great +enhancement of his fame, whereat the princess will be overjoyed and will +esteem herself happy and fortunate in having fixed and placed her +thoughts so high. And the best of it is that this king, or prince, or +whatever he is, is engaged in a very bitter war with another as powerful +as himself, and the stranger knight, after having been some days at his +court, requests leave from him to go and serve him in the said war. The +king will grant it very readily, and the knight will courteously kiss his +hands for the favour done to him; and that night he will take leave of +his lady the princess at the grating of the chamber where she sleeps, +which looks upon a garden, and at which he has already many times +conversed with her, the go-between and confidante in the matter being a +damsel much trusted by the princess. He will sigh, she will swoon, the +damsel will fetch water, much distressed because morning approaches, and +for the honour of her lady he would not that they were discovered; at +last the princess will come to herself and will present her white hands +through the grating to the knight, who will kiss them a thousand and a +thousand times, bathing them with his tears. It will be arranged between +them how they are to inform each other of their good or evil fortunes, +and the princess will entreat him to make his absence as short as +possible, which he will promise to do with many oaths; once more he +kisses her hands, and takes his leave in such grief that he is well-nigh +ready to die. He betakes him thence to his chamber, flings himself on his +bed, cannot sleep for sorrow at parting, rises early in the morning, goes +to take leave of the king, queen, and princess, and, as he takes his +leave of the pair, it is told him that the princess is indisposed and +cannot receive a visit; the knight thinks it is from grief at his +departure, his heart is pierced, and he is hardly able to keep from +showing his pain. The confidante is present, observes all, goes to tell +her mistress, who listens with tears and says that one of her greatest +distresses is not knowing who this knight is, and whether he is of kingly +lineage or not; the damsel assures her that so much courtesy, gentleness, +and gallantry of bearing as her knight possesses could not exist in any +save one who was royal and illustrious; her anxiety is thus relieved, and +she strives to be of good cheer lest she should excite suspicion in her +parents, and at the end of two days she appears in public. Meanwhile the +knight has taken his departure; he fights in the war, conquers the king's +enemy, wins many cities, triumphs in many battles, returns to the court, +sees his lady where he was wont to see her, and it is agreed that he +shall demand her in marriage of her parents as the reward of his +services; the king is unwilling to give her, as he knows not who he is, +but nevertheless, whether carried off or in whatever other way it may be, +the princess comes to be his bride, and her father comes to regard it as +very good fortune; for it so happens that this knight is proved to be the +son of a valiant king of some kingdom, I know not what, for I fancy it is +not likely to be on the map. The father dies, the princess inherits, and +in two words the knight becomes king. And here comes in at once the +bestowal of rewards upon his squire and all who have aided him in rising +to so exalted a rank. He marries his squire to a damsel of the +princess's, who will be, no doubt, the one who was confidante in their +amour, and is daughter of a very great duke." + +"That's what I want, and no mistake about it!" said Sancho. "That's what +I'm waiting for; for all this, word for word, is in store for your +worship under the title of the Knight of the Rueful Countenance." + +"Thou needst not doubt it, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "for in the same +manner, and by the same steps as I have described here, knights-errant +rise and have risen to be kings and emperors; all we want now is to find +out what king, Christian or pagan, is at war and has a beautiful +daughter; but there will be time enough to think of that, for, as I have +told thee, fame must be won in other quarters before repairing to the +court. There is another thing, too, that is wanting; for supposing we +find a king who is at war and has a beautiful daughter, and that I have +won incredible fame throughout the universe, I know not how it can be +made out that I am of royal lineage, or even second cousin to an emperor; +for the king will not be willing to give me his daughter in marriage +unless he is first thoroughly satisfied on this point, however much my +famous deeds may deserve it; so that by this deficiency I fear I shall +lose what my arm has fairly earned. True it is I am a gentleman of known +house, of estate and property, and entitled to the five hundred sueldos +mulct; and it may be that the sage who shall write my history will so +clear up my ancestry and pedigree that I may find myself fifth or sixth +in descent from a king; for I would have thee know, Sancho, that there +are two kinds of lineages in the world; some there be tracing and +deriving their descent from kings and princes, whom time has reduced +little by little until they end in a point like a pyramid upside down; +and others who spring from the common herd and go on rising step by step +until they come to be great lords; so that the difference is that the one +were what they no longer are, and the others are what they formerly were +not. And I may be of such that after investigation my origin may prove +great and famous, with which the king, my father-in-law that is to be, +ought to be satisfied; and should he not be, the princess will so love me +that even though she well knew me to be the son of a water-carrier, she +will take me for her lord and husband in spite of her father; if not, +then it comes to seizing her and carrying her off where I please; for +time or death will put an end to the wrath of her parents." + +"It comes to this, too," said Sancho, "what some naughty people say, +'Never ask as a favour what thou canst take by force;' though it would +fit better to say, 'A clear escape is better than good men's prayers.' I +say so because if my lord the king, your worship's father-in-law, will +not condescend to give you my lady the princess, there is nothing for it +but, as your worship says, to seize her and transport her. But the +mischief is that until peace is made and you come into the peaceful +enjoyment of your kingdom, the poor squire is famishing as far as rewards +go, unless it be that the confidante damsel that is to be his wife comes +with the princess, and that with her he tides over his bad luck until +Heaven otherwise orders things; for his master, I suppose, may as well +give her to him at once for a lawful wife." + +"Nobody can object to that," said Don Quixote. + +"Then since that may be," said Sancho, "there is nothing for it but to +commend ourselves to God, and let fortune take what course it will." + +"God guide it according to my wishes and thy wants," said Don Quixote, +"and mean be he who thinks himself mean." + +"In God's name let him be so," said Sancho: "I am an old Christian, and +to fit me for a count that's enough." + +"And more than enough for thee," said Don Quixote; "and even wert thou +not, it would make no difference, because I being the king can easily +give thee nobility without purchase or service rendered by thee, for when +I make thee a count, then thou art at once a gentleman; and they may say +what they will, but by my faith they will have to call thee 'your +lordship,' whether they like it or not." + +"Not a doubt of it; and I'll know how to support the tittle," said +Sancho. + +"Title thou shouldst say, not tittle," said his master. + +"So be it," answered Sancho. "I say I will know how to behave, for once +in my life I was beadle of a brotherhood, and the beadle's gown sat so +well on me that all said I looked as if I was to be steward of the same +brotherhood. What will it be, then, when I put a duke's robe on my back, +or dress myself in gold and pearls like a count? I believe they'll come a +hundred leagues to see me." + +"Thou wilt look well," said Don Quixote, "but thou must shave thy beard +often, for thou hast it so thick and rough and unkempt, that if thou dost +not shave it every second day at least, they will see what thou art at +the distance of a musket shot." + +"What more will it be," said Sancho, "than having a barber, and keeping +him at wages in the house? and even if it be necessary, I will make him +go behind me like a nobleman's equerry." + +"Why, how dost thou know that noblemen have equerries behind them?" asked +Don Quixote. + +"I will tell you," answered Sancho. "Years ago I was for a month at the +capital and there I saw taking the air a very small gentleman who they +said was a very great man, and a man following him on horseback in every +turn he took, just as if he was his tail. I asked why this man did not +join the other man, instead of always going behind him; they answered me +that he was his equerry, and that it was the custom with nobles to have +such persons behind them, and ever since then I know it, for I have never +forgotten it." + +"Thou art right," said Don Quixote, "and in the same way thou mayest +carry thy barber with thee, for customs did not come into use all +together, nor were they all invented at once, and thou mayest be the +first count to have a barber to follow him; and, indeed, shaving one's +beard is a greater trust than saddling one's horse." + +"Let the barber business be my look-out," said Sancho; "and your +worship's be it to strive to become a king, and make me a count." + +"So it shall be," answered Don Quixote, and raising his eyes he saw what +will be told in the following chapter. + +Chapter XXII. - +Of the freedom Don Quixote conferred on several unfortunates who against +their will were being carried where they had no wish to go + +Cide Hamete Benengeli, the Arab and Manchegan author, relates in this +most grave, high-sounding, minute, delightful, and original history that +after the discussion between the famous Don Quixote of La Mancha and his +squire Sancho Panza which is set down at the end of chapter twenty-one, +Don Quixote raised his eyes and saw coming along the road he was +following some dozen men on foot strung together by the neck, like beads, +on a great iron chain, and all with manacles on their hands. With them +there came also two men on horseback and two on foot; those on horseback +with wheel-lock muskets, those on foot with javelins and swords, and as +soon as Sancho saw them he said: + +"That is a chain of galley slaves, on the way to the galleys by force of +the king's orders." + +"How by force?" asked Don Quixote; "is it possible that the king uses +force against anyone?" + +"I do not say that," answered Sancho, "but that these are people +condemned for their crimes to serve by force in the king's galleys." + +"In fact," replied Don Quixote, "however it may be, these people are +going where they are taking them by force, and not of their own will." + +"Just so," said Sancho. + +"Then if so," said Don Quixote, "here is a case for the exercise of my +office, to put down force and to succour and help the wretched." + +"Recollect, your worship," said Sancho, "Justice, which is the king +himself, is not using force or doing wrong to such persons, but punishing +them for their crimes." + +The chain of galley slaves had by this time come up, and Don Quixote in +very courteous language asked those who were in custody of it to be good +enough to tell him the reason or reasons for which they were conducting +these people in this manner. One of the guards on horseback answered that +they were galley slaves belonging to his majesty, that they were going to +the galleys, and that was all that was to be said and all he had any +business to know. + +"Nevertheless," replied Don Quixote, "I should like to know from each of +them separately the reason of his misfortune;" to this he added more to +the same effect to induce them to tell him what he wanted so civilly that +the other mounted guard said to him: + +"Though we have here the register and certificate of the sentence of +every one of these wretches, this is no time to take them out or read +them; come and ask themselves; they can tell if they choose, and they +will, for these fellows take a pleasure in doing and talking about +rascalities." + +With this permission, which Don Quixote would have taken even had they +not granted it, he approached the chain and asked the first for what +offences he was now in such a sorry case. + +He made answer that it was for being a lover. + +"For that only?" replied Don Quixote; "why, if for being lovers they send +people to the galleys I might have been rowing in them long ago." + +"The love is not the sort your worship is thinking of," said the galley +slave; "mine was that I loved a washerwoman's basket of clean linen so +well, and held it so close in my embrace, that if the arm of the law had +not forced it from me, I should never have let it go of my own will to +this moment; I was caught in the act, there was no occasion for torture, +the case was settled, they treated me to a hundred lashes on the back, +and three years of gurapas besides, and that was the end of it." + +"What are gurapas?" asked Don Quixote. + +"Gurapas are galleys," answered the galley slave, who was a young man of +about four-and-twenty, and said he was a native of Piedrahita. + +Don Quixote asked the same question of the second, who made no reply, so +downcast and melancholy was he; but the first answered for him, and said, +"He, sir, goes as a canary, I mean as a musician and a singer." + +"What!" said Don Quixote, "for being musicians and singers are people +sent to the galleys too?" + +"Yes, sir," answered the galley slave, "for there is nothing worse than +singing under suffering." + +"On the contrary, I have heard say," said Don Quixote, "that he who sings +scares away his woes." + +"Here it is the reverse," said the galley slave; "for he who sings once +weeps all his life." + +"I do not understand it," said Don Quixote; but one of the guards said to +him, "Sir, to sing under suffering means with the non sancta fraternity +to confess under torture; they put this sinner to the torture and he +confessed his crime, which was being a cuatrero, that is a +cattle-stealer, and on his confession they sentenced him to six years in +the galleys, besides two bundred lashes that he has already had on the +back; and he is always dejected and downcast because the other thieves +that were left behind and that march here ill-treat, and snub, and jeer, +and despise him for confessing and not having spirit enough to say nay; +for, say they, 'nay' has no more letters in it than 'yea,' and a culprit +is well off when life or death with him depends on his own tongue and not +on that of witnesses or evidence; and to my thinking they are not very +far out." + +"And I think so too," answered Don Quixote; then passing on to the third +he asked him what he had asked the others, and the man answered very +readily and unconcernedly, "I am going for five years to their ladyships +the gurapas for the want of ten ducats." + +"I will give twenty with pleasure to get you out of that trouble," said +Don Quixote. + +"That," said the galley slave, "is like a man having money at sea when he +is dying of hunger and has no way of buying what he wants; I say so +because if at the right time I had had those twenty ducats that your +worship now offers me, I would have greased the notary's pen and +freshened up the attorney's wit with them, so that to-day I should be in +the middle of the plaza of the Zocodover at Toledo, and not on this road +coupled like a greyhound. But God is great; patience--there, that's +enough of it." + +Don Quixote passed on to the fourth, a man of venerable aspect with a +white beard falling below his breast, who on hearing himself asked the +reason of his being there began to weep without answering a word, but the +fifth acted as his tongue and said, "This worthy man is going to the +galleys for four years, after having gone the rounds in ceremony and on +horseback." + +"That means," said Sancho Panza, "as I take it, to have been exposed to +shame in public." + +"Just so," replied the galley slave, "and the offence for which they gave +him that punishment was having been an ear-broker, nay body-broker; I +mean, in short, that this gentleman goes as a pimp, and for having +besides a certain touch of the sorcerer about him." + +"If that touch had not been thrown in," said Don Quixote, "he would not +deserve, for mere pimping, to row in the galleys, but rather to command +and be admiral of them; for the office of pimp is no ordinary one, being +the office of persons of discretion, one very necessary in a well-ordered +state, and only to be exercised by persons of good birth; nay, there +ought to be an inspector and overseer of them, as in other offices, and +recognised number, as with the brokers on change; in this way many of the +evils would be avoided which are caused by this office and calling being +in the hands of stupid and ignorant people, such as women more or less +silly, and pages and jesters of little standing and experience, who on +the most urgent occasions, and when ingenuity of contrivance is needed, +let the crumbs freeze on the way to their mouths, and know not which is +their right hand. I should like to go farther, and give reasons to show +that it is advisable to choose those who are to hold so necessary an +office in the state, but this is not the fit place for it; some day I +will expound the matter to some one able to see to and rectify it; all I +say now is, that the additional fact of his being a sorcerer has removed +the sorrow it gave me to see these white hairs and this venerable +countenance in so painful a position on account of his being a pimp; +though I know well there are no sorceries in the world that can move or +compel the will as some simple folk fancy, for our will is free, nor is +there herb or charm that can force it. All that certain silly women and +quacks do is to turn men mad with potions and poisons, pretending that +they have power to cause love, for, as I say, it is an impossibility to +compel the will." + +"It is true," said the good old man, "and indeed, sir, as far as the +charge of sorcery goes I was not guilty; as to that of being a pimp I +cannot deny it; but I never thought I was doing any harm by it, for my +only object was that all the world should enjoy itself and live in peace +and quiet, without quarrels or troubles; but my good intentions were +unavailing to save me from going where I never expect to come back from, +with this weight of years upon me and a urinary ailment that never gives +me a moment's ease;" and again he fell to weeping as before, and such +compassion did Sancho feel for him that he took out a real of four from +his bosom and gave it to him in alms. + +Don Quixote went on and asked another what his crime was, and the man +answered with no less but rather much more sprightliness than the last +one. + +"I am here because I carried the joke too far with a couple of cousins of +mine, and with a couple of other cousins who were none of mine; in short, +I carried the joke so far with them all that it ended in such a +complicated increase of kindred that no accountant could make it clear: +it was all proved against me, I got no favour, I had no money, I was near +having my neck stretched, they sentenced me to the galleys for six years, +I accepted my fate, it is the punishment of my fault; I am a young man; +let life only last, and with that all will come right. If you, sir, have +anything wherewith to help the poor, God will repay it to you in heaven, +and we on earth will take care in our petitions to him to pray for the +life and health of your worship, that they may be as long and as good as +your amiable appearance deserves." + +This one was in the dress of a student, and one of the guards said he was +a great talker and a very elegant Latin scholar. + +Behind all these there came a man of thirty, a very personable fellow, +except that when he looked, his eyes turned in a little one towards the +other. He was bound differently from the rest, for he had to his leg a +chain so long that it was wound all round his body, and two rings on his +neck, one attached to the chain, the other to what they call a +"keep-friend" or "friend's foot," from which hung two irons reaching to +his waist with two manacles fixed to them in which his hands were secured +by a big padlock, so that he could neither raise his hands to his mouth +nor lower his head to his hands. Don Quixote asked why this man carried +so many more chains than the others. The guard replied that it was +because he alone had committed more crimes than all the rest put +together, and was so daring and such a villain, that though they marched +him in that fashion they did not feel sure of him, but were in dread of +his making his escape. + +"What crimes can he have committed," said Don Quixote, "if they have not +deserved a heavier punishment than being sent to the galleys?" + +"He goes for ten years," replied the guard, "which is the same thing as +civil death, and all that need be said is that this good fellow is the +famous Gines de Pasamonte, otherwise called Ginesillo de Parapilla." + +"Gently, senor commissary," said the galley slave at this, "let us have +no fixing of names or surnames; my name is Gines, not Ginesillo, and my +family name is Pasamonte, not Parapilla as you say; let each one mind his +own business, and he will be doing enough." + +"Speak with less impertinence, master thief of extra measure," replied +the commissary, "if you don't want me to make you hold your tongue in +spite of your teeth." + +"It is easy to see," returned the galley slave, "that man goes as God +pleases, but some one shall know some day whether I am called Ginesillo +de Parapilla or not." + +"Don't they call you so, you liar?" said the guard. + +"They do," returned Gines, "but I will make them give over calling me so, +or I will be shaved, where, I only say behind my teeth. If you, sir, have +anything to give us, give it to us at once, and God speed you, for you +are becoming tiresome with all this inquisitiveness about the lives of +others; if you want to know about mine, let me tell you I am Gines de +Pasamonte, whose life is written by these fingers." + +"He says true," said the commissary, "for he has himself written his +story as grand as you please, and has left the book in the prison in pawn +for two hundred reals." + +"And I mean to take it out of pawn," said Gines, "though it were in for +two hundred ducats." + +"Is it so good?" said Don Quixote. + +"So good is it," replied Gines, "that a fig for 'Lazarillo de Tormes,' +and all of that kind that have been written, or shall be written compared +with it: all I will say about it is that it deals with facts, and facts +so neat and diverting that no lies could match them." + +"And how is the book entitled?" asked Don Quixote. + +"The 'Life of Gines de Pasamonte,'" replied the subject of it. + +"And is it finished?" asked Don Quixote. + +"How can it be finished," said the other, "when my life is not yet +finished? All that is written is from my birth down to the point when +they sent me to the galleys this last time." + +"Then you have been there before?" said Don Quixote. + +"In the service of God and the king I have been there for four years +before now, and I know by this time what the biscuit and courbash are +like," replied Gines; "and it is no great grievance to me to go back to +them, for there I shall have time to finish my book; I have still many +things left to say, and in the galleys of Spain there is more than enough +leisure; though I do not want much for what I have to write, for I have +it by heart." + +"You seem a clever fellow," said Don Quixote. + +"And an unfortunate one," replied Gines, "for misfortune always +persecutes good wit." + +"It persecutes rogues," said the commissary. + +"I told you already to go gently, master commissary," said Pasamonte; +"their lordships yonder never gave you that staff to ill-treat us +wretches here, but to conduct and take us where his majesty orders you; +if not, by the life of-never mind-; it may be that some day the stains +made in the inn will come out in the scouring; let everyone hold his +tongue and behave well and speak better; and now let us march on, for we +have had quite enough of this entertainment." + +The commissary lifted his staff to strike Pasamonte in return for his +threats, but Don Quixote came between them, and begged him not to ill-use +him, as it was not too much to allow one who had his hands tied to have +his tongue a trifle free; and turning to the whole chain of them he said: + +"From all you have told me, dear brethren, make out clearly that though +they have punished you for your faults, the punishments you are about to +endure do not give you much pleasure, and that you go to them very much +against the grain and against your will, and that perhaps this one's want +of courage under torture, that one's want of money, the other's want of +advocacy, and lastly the perverted judgment of the judge may have been +the cause of your ruin and of your failure to obtain the justice you had +on your side. All which presents itself now to my mind, urging, +persuading, and even compelling me to demonstrate in your case the +purpose for which Heaven sent me into the world and caused me to make +profession of the order of chivalry to which I belong, and the vow I took +therein to give aid to those in need and under the oppression of the +strong. But as I know that it is a mark of prudence not to do by foul +means what may be done by fair, I will ask these gentlemen, the guards +and commissary, to be so good as to release you and let you go in peace, +as there will be no lack of others to serve the king under more +favourable circumstances; for it seems to me a hard case to make slaves +of those whom God and nature have made free. Moreover, sirs of the +guard," added Don Quixote, "these poor fellows have done nothing to you; +let each answer for his own sins yonder; there is a God in Heaven who +will not forget to punish the wicked or reward the good; and it is not +fitting that honest men should be the instruments of punishment to +others, they being therein no way concerned. This request I make thus +gently and quietly, that, if you comply with it, I may have reason for +thanking you; and, if you will not voluntarily, this lance and sword +together with the might of my arm shall compel you to comply with it by +force." + +"Nice nonsense!" said the commissary; "a fine piece of pleasantry he has +come out with at last! He wants us to let the king's prisoners go, as if +we had any authority to release them, or he to order us to do so! Go your +way, sir, and good luck to you; put that basin straight that you've got +on your head, and don't go looking for three feet on a cat." + +"'Tis you that are the cat, rat, and rascal," replied Don Quixote, and +acting on the word he fell upon him so suddenly that without giving him +time to defend himself he brought him to the ground sorely wounded with a +lance-thrust; and lucky it was for him that it was the one that had the +musket. The other guards stood thunderstruck and amazed at this +unexpected event, but recovering presence of mind, those on horseback +seized their swords, and those on foot their javelins, and attacked Don +Quixote, who was waiting for them with great calmness; and no doubt it +would have gone badly with him if the galley slaves, seeing the chance +before them of liberating themselves, had not effected it by contriving +to break the chain on which they were strung. Such was the confusion, +that the guards, now rushing at the galley slaves who were breaking +loose, now to attack Don Quixote who was waiting for them, did nothing at +all that was of any use. Sancho, on his part, gave a helping hand to +release Gines de Pasamonte, who was the first to leap forth upon the +plain free and unfettered, and who, attacking the prostrate commissary, +took from him his sword and the musket, with which, aiming at one and +levelling at another, he, without ever discharging it, drove every one of +the guards off the field, for they took to flight, as well to escape +Pasamonte's musket, as the showers of stones the now released galley +slaves were raining upon them. Sancho was greatly grieved at the affair, +because he anticipated that those who had fled would report the matter to +the Holy Brotherhood, who at the summons of the alarm-bell would at once +sally forth in quest of the offenders; and he said so to his master, and +entreated him to leave the place at once, and go into hiding in the +sierra that was close by. + +"That is all very well," said Don Quixote, "but I know what must be done +now;" and calling together all the galley slaves, who were now running +riot, and had stripped the commissary to the skin, he collected them +round him to hear what he had to say, and addressed them as follows: "To +be grateful for benefits received is the part of persons of good birth, +and one of the sins most offensive to God is ingratitude; I say so +because, sirs, ye have already seen by manifest proof the benefit ye have +received of me; in return for which I desire, and it is my good pleasure +that, laden with that chain which I have taken off your necks, ye at once +set out and proceed to the city of El Toboso, and there present +yourselves before the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, and say to her that her +knight, he of the Rueful Countenance, sends to commend himself to her; +and that ye recount to her in full detail all the particulars of this +notable adventure, up to the recovery of your longed-for liberty; and +this done ye may go where ye will, and good fortune attend you." + +Gines de Pasamonte made answer for all, saying, "That which you, sir, our +deliverer, demand of us, is of all impossibilities the most impossible to +comply with, because we cannot go together along the roads, but only +singly and separate, and each one his own way, endeavouring to hide +ourselves in the bowels of the earth to escape the Holy Brotherhood, +which, no doubt, will come out in search of us. What your worship may do, +and fairly do, is to change this service and tribute as regards the lady +Dulcinea del Toboso for a certain quantity of ave-marias and credos which +we will say for your worship's intention, and this is a condition that +can be complied with by night as by day, running or resting, in peace or +in war; but to imagine that we are going now to return to the flesh-pots +of Egypt, I mean to take up our chain and set out for El Toboso, is to +imagine that it is now night, though it is not yet ten in the morning, +and to ask this of us is like asking pears of the elm tree." + +"Then by all that's good," said Don Quixote (now stirred to wrath), "Don +son of a bitch, Don Ginesillo de Paropillo, or whatever your name is, you +will have to go yourself alone, with your tail between your legs and the +whole chain on your back." + +Pasamonte, who was anything but meek (being by this time thoroughly +convinced that Don Quixote was not quite right in his head as he had +committed such a vagary as to set them free), finding himself abused in +this fashion, gave the wink to his companions, and falling back they +began to shower stones on Don Quixote at such a rate that he was quite +unable to protect himself with his buckler, and poor Rocinante no more +heeded the spur than if he had been made of brass. Sancho planted himself +behind his ass, and with him sheltered himself from the hailstorm that +poured on both of them. Don Quixote was unable to shield himself so well +but that more pebbles than I could count struck him full on the body with +such force that they brought him to the ground; and the instant he fell +the student pounced upon him, snatched the basin from his head, and with +it struck three or four blows on his shoulders, and as many more on the +ground, knocking it almost to pieces. They then stripped him of a jacket +that he wore over his armour, and they would have stripped off his +stockings if his greaves had not prevented them. From Sancho they took +his coat, leaving him in his shirt-sleeves; and dividing among themselves +the remaining spoils of the battle, they went each one his own way, more +solicitous about keeping clear of the Holy Brotherhood they dreaded, than +about burdening themselves with the chain, or going to present themselves +before the lady Dulcinea del Toboso. The ass and Rocinante, Sancho and +Don Quixote, were all that were left upon the spot; the ass with drooping +head, serious, shaking his ears from time to time as if he thought the +storm of stones that assailed them was not yet over; Rocinante stretched +beside his master, for he too had been brought to the ground by a stone; +Sancho stripped, and trembling with fear of the Holy Brotherhood; and Don +Quixote fuming to find himself so served by the very persons for whom he +had done so much. + +Chapter XXIII. - +Of what befell Don Quixote in the Sierra Morena, which was one of the +rarest adventures related in this veracious history + +Seeing himself served in this way, Don Quixote said to his squire, "I +have always heard it said, Sancho, that to do good to boors is to throw +water into the sea. If I had believed thy words, I should have avoided +this trouble; but it is done now, it is only to have patience and take +warning for the future." + +"Your worship will take warning as much as I am a Turk," returned Sancho; +"but, as you say this mischief might have been avoided if you had +believed me, believe me now, and a still greater one will be avoided; for +I tell you chivalry is of no account with the Holy Brotherhood, and they +don't care two maravedis for all the knights-errant in the world; and I +can tell you I fancy I hear their arrows whistling past my ears this +minute." + +"Thou art a coward by nature, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "but lest thou +shouldst say I am obstinate, and that I never do as thou dost advise, +this once I will take thy advice, and withdraw out of reach of that fury +thou so dreadest; but it must be on one condition, that never, in life or +in death, thou art to say to anyone that I retired or withdrew from this +danger out of fear, but only in compliance with thy entreaties; for if +thou sayest otherwise thou wilt lie therein, and from this time to that, +and from that to this, I give thee lie, and say thou liest and wilt lie +every time thou thinkest or sayest it; and answer me not again; for at +the mere thought that I am withdrawing or retiring from any danger, above +all from this, which does seem to carry some little shadow of fear with +it, I am ready to take my stand here and await alone, not only that Holy +Brotherhood you talk of and dread, but the brothers of the twelve tribes +of Israel, and the Seven Maccabees, and Castor and Pollux, and all the +brothers and brotherhoods in the world." + +"Senor," replied Sancho, "to retire is not to flee, and there is no +wisdom in waiting when danger outweighs hope, and it is the part of wise +men to preserve themselves to-day for to-morrow, and not risk all in one +day; and let me tell you, though I am a clown and a boor, I have got some +notion of what they call safe conduct; so repent not of having taken my +advice, but mount Rocinante if you can, and if not I will help you; and +follow me, for my mother-wit tells me we have more need of legs than +hands just now." + +Don Quixote mounted without replying, and, Sancho leading the way on his +ass, they entered the side of the Sierra Morena, which was close by, as +it was Sancho's design to cross it entirely and come out again at El Viso +or Almodovar del Campo, and hide for some days among its crags so as to +escape the search of the Brotherhood should they come to look for them. +He was encouraged in this by perceiving that the stock of provisions +carried by the ass had come safe out of the fray with the galley slaves, +a circumstance that he regarded as a miracle, seeing how they pillaged +and ransacked. + +That night they reached the very heart of the Sierra Morena, where it +seemed prudent to Sancho to pass the night and even some days, at least +as many as the stores he carried might last, and so they encamped between +two rocks and among some cork trees; but fatal destiny, which, according +to the opinion of those who have not the light of the true faith, +directs, arranges, and settles everything in its own way, so ordered it +that Gines de Pasamonte, the famous knave and thief who by the virtue and +madness of Don Quixote had been released from the chain, driven by fear +of the Holy Brotherhood, which he had good reason to dread, resolved to +take hiding in the mountains; and his fate and fear led him to the same +spot to which Don Quixote and Sancho Panza had been led by theirs, just +in time to recognise them and leave them to fall asleep: and as the +wicked are always ungrateful, and necessity leads to evildoing, and +immediate advantage overcomes all considerations of the future, Gines, +who was neither grateful nor well-principled, made up his mind to steal +Sancho Panza's ass, not troubling himself about Rocinante, as being a +prize that was no good either to pledge or sell. While Sancho slept he +stole his ass, and before day dawned he was far out of reach. + +Aurora made her appearance bringing gladness to the earth but sadness to +Sancho Panza, for he found that his Dapple was missing, and seeing +himself bereft of him he began the saddest and most doleful lament in the +world, so loud that Don Quixote awoke at his exclamations and heard him +saying, "O son of my bowels, born in my very house, my children's +plaything, my wife's joy, the envy of my neighbours, relief of my +burdens, and lastly, half supporter of myself, for with the +six-and-twenty maravedis thou didst earn me daily I met half my charges." + +Don Quixote, when he heard the lament and learned the cause, consoled +Sancho with the best arguments he could, entreating him to be patient, +and promising to give him a letter of exchange ordering three out of five +ass-colts that he had at home to be given to him. Sancho took comfort at +this, dried his tears, suppressed his sobs, and returned thanks for the +kindness shown him by Don Quixote. He on his part was rejoiced to the +heart on entering the mountains, as they seemed to him to be just the +place for the adventures he was in quest of. They brought back to his +memory the marvellous adventures that had befallen knights-errant in like +solitudes and wilds, and he went along reflecting on these things, so +absorbed and carried away by them that he had no thought for anything +else. + +Nor had Sancho any other care (now that he fancied he was travelling in a +safe quarter) than to satisfy his appetite with such remains as were left +of the clerical spoils, and so he marched behind his master laden with +what Dapple used to carry, emptying the sack and packing his paunch, and +so long as he could go that way, he would not have given a farthing to +meet with another adventure. + +While so engaged he raised his eyes and saw that his master had halted, +and was trying with the point of his pike to lift some bulky object that +lay upon the ground, on which he hastened to join him and help him if it +were needful, and reached him just as with the point of the pike he was +raising a saddle-pad with a valise attached to it, half or rather wholly +rotten and torn; but so heavy were they that Sancho had to help to take +them up, and his master directed him to see what the valise contained. +Sancho did so with great alacrity, and though the valise was secured by a +chain and padlock, from its torn and rotten condition he was able to see +its contents, which were four shirts of fine holland, and other articles +of linen no less curious than clean; and in a handkerchief he found a +good lot of gold crowns, and as soon as he saw them he exclaimed: + +"Blessed be all Heaven for sending us an adventure that is good for +something!" + +Searching further he found a little memorandum book richly bound; this +Don Quixote asked of him, telling him to take the money and keep it for +himself. Sancho kissed his hands for the favour, and cleared the valise +of its linen, which he stowed away in the provision sack. Considering the +whole matter, Don Quixote observed: + +"It seems to me, Sancho--and it is impossible it can be otherwise-that +some strayed traveller must have crossed this sierra and been attacked +and slain by footpads, who brought him to this remote spot to bury him." + +"That cannot be," answered Sancho, "because if they had been robbers they +would not have left this money." + +"Thou art right," said Don Quixote, "and I cannot guess or explain what +this may mean; but stay; let us see if in this memorandum book there is +anything written by which we may be able to trace out or discover what we +want to know." + +He opened it, and the first thing he found in it, written roughly but in +a very good hand, was a sonnet, and reading it aloud that Sancho might +hear it, he found that it ran as follows: + +poem{ + +SONNET + +Or Love is lacking in intelligence, + Or to the height of cruelty attains, + Or else it is my doom to suffer pains +Beyond the measure due to my offence. +But if Love be a God, it follows thence + That he knows all, and certain it remains + No God loves cruelty; then who ordains +This penance that enthrals while it torments? +It were a falsehood, Chloe, thee to name; + Such evil with such goodness cannot live; +And against Heaven I dare not charge the blame, + I only know it is my fate to die. + To him who knows not whence his malady + A miracle alone a cure can give. + +}poem + +"There is nothing to be learned from that rhyme," said Sancho, "unless by +that clue there's in it, one may draw out the ball of the whole matter." + +"What clue is there?" said Don Quixote. + +"I thought your worship spoke of a clue in it," said Sancho. + +"I only said Chloe," replied Don Quixote; "and that no doubt, is the name +of the lady of whom the author of the sonnet complains; and, faith, he +must be a tolerable poet, or I know little of the craft." + +"Then your worship understands rhyming too?" + +"And better than thou thinkest," replied Don Quixote, "as thou shalt see +when thou carriest a letter written in verse from beginning to end to my +lady Dulcinea del Toboso, for I would have thee know, Sancho, that all or +most of the knights-errant in days of yore were great troubadours and +great musicians, for both of these accomplishments, or more properly +speaking gifts, are the peculiar property of lovers-errant: true it is +that the verses of the knights of old have more spirit than neatness in +them." + +"Read more, your worship," said Sancho, "and you will find something that +will enlighten us." + +Don Quixote turned the page and said, "This is prose and seems to be a +letter." + +"A correspondence letter, senor?" + +"From the beginning it seems to be a love letter," replied Don Quixote. + +"Then let your worship read it aloud," said Sancho, "for I am very fond +of love matters." + +"With all my heart," said Don Quixote, and reading it aloud as Sancho had +requested him, he found it ran thus: + +Thy false promise and my sure misfortune carry me to a place whence the +news of my death will reach thy ears before the words of my complaint. +Ungrateful one, thou hast rejected me for one more wealthy, but not more +worthy; but if virtue were esteemed wealth I should neither envy the +fortunes of others nor weep for misfortunes of my own. What thy beauty +raised up thy deeds have laid low; by it I believed thee to be an angel, +by them I know thou art a woman. Peace be with thee who hast sent war to +me, and Heaven grant that the deceit of thy husband be ever hidden from +thee, so that thou repent not of what thou hast done, and I reap not a +revenge I would not have. + +When he had finished the letter, Don Quixote said, "There is less to be +gathered from this than from the verses, except that he who wrote it is +some rejected lover;" and turning over nearly all the pages of the book +he found more verses and letters, some of which he could read, while +others he could not; but they were all made up of complaints, laments, +misgivings, desires and aversions, favours and rejections, some +rapturous, some doleful. While Don Quixote examined the book, Sancho +examined the valise, not leaving a corner in the whole of it or in the +pad that he did not search, peer into, and explore, or seam that he did +not rip, or tuft of wool that he did not pick to pieces, lest anything +should escape for want of care and pains; so keen was the covetousness +excited in him by the discovery of the crowns, which amounted to near a +hundred; and though he found no more booty, he held the blanket flights, +balsam vomits, stake benedictions, carriers' fisticuffs, missing +alforjas, stolen coat, and all the hunger, thirst, and weariness he had +endured in the service of his good master, cheap at the price; as he +considered himself more than fully indemnified for all by the payment he +received in the gift of the treasure-trove. + +The Knight of the Rueful Countenance was still very anxious to find out +who the owner of the valise could be, conjecturing from the sonnet and +letter, from the money in gold, and from the fineness of the shirts, that +he must be some lover of distinction whom the scorn and cruelty of his +lady had driven to some desperate course; but as in that uninhabited and +rugged spot there was no one to be seen of whom he could inquire, he saw +nothing else for it but to push on, taking whatever road Rocinante +chose--which was where he could make his way--firmly persuaded that among +these wilds he could not fail to meet some rare adventure. As he went +along, then, occupied with these thoughts, he perceived on the summit of +a height that rose before their eyes a man who went springing from rock +to rock and from tussock to tussock with marvellous agility. As well as +he could make out he was unclad, with a thick black beard, long tangled +hair, and bare legs and feet, his thighs were covered by breeches +apparently of tawny velvet but so ragged that they showed his skin in +several places. + +He was bareheaded, and notwithstanding the swiftness with which he passed +as has been described, the Knight of the Rueful Countenance observed and +noted all these trifles, and though he made the attempt, he was unable to +follow him, for it was not granted to the feebleness of Rocinante to make +way over such rough ground, he being, moreover, slow-paced and sluggish +by nature. Don Quixote at once came to the conclusion that this was the +owner of the saddle-pad and of the valise, and made up his mind to go in +search of him, even though he should have to wander a year in those +mountains before he found him, and so he directed Sancho to take a short +cut over one side of the mountain, while he himself went by the other, +and perhaps by this means they might light upon this man who had passed +so quickly out of their sight. + +"I could not do that," said Sancho, "for when I separate from your +worship fear at once lays hold of me, and assails me with all sorts of +panics and fancies; and let what I now say be a notice that from this +time forth I am not going to stir a finger's width from your presence." + +"It shall be so," said he of the Rueful Countenance, "and I am very glad +that thou art willing to rely on my courage, which will never fail thee, +even though the soul in thy body fail thee; so come on now behind me +slowly as well as thou canst, and make lanterns of thine eyes; let us +make the circuit of this ridge; perhaps we shall light upon this man that +we saw, who no doubt is no other than the owner of what we found." + +To which Sancho made answer, "Far better would it be not to look for him, +for, if we find him, and he happens to be the owner of the money, it is +plain I must restore it; it would be better, therefore, that without +taking this needless trouble, I should keep possession of it until in +some other less meddlesome and officious way the real owner may be +discovered; and perhaps that will be when I shall have spent it, and then +the king will hold me harmless." + +"Thou art wrong there, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "for now that we have a +suspicion who the owner is, and have him almost before us, we are bound +to seek him and make restitution; and if we do not see him, the strong +suspicion we have as to his being the owner makes us as guilty as if he +were so; and so, friend Sancho, let not our search for him give thee any +uneasiness, for if we find him it will relieve mine." + +And so saying he gave Rocinante the spur, and Sancho followed him on foot +and loaded, and after having partly made the circuit of the mountain they +found lying in a ravine, dead and half devoured by dogs and pecked by +jackdaws, a mule saddled and bridled, all which still further +strengthened their suspicion that he who had fled was the owner of the +mule and the saddle-pad. + +As they stood looking at it they heard a whistle like that of a shepherd +watching his flock, and suddenly on their left there appeared a great +number of goats and behind them on the summit of the mountain the +goatherd in charge of them, a man advanced in years. Don Quixote called +aloud to him and begged him to come down to where they stood. He shouted +in return, asking what had brought them to that spot, seldom or never +trodden except by the feet of goats, or of the wolves and other wild +beasts that roamed around. Sancho in return bade him come down, and they +would explain all to him. + +The goatherd descended, and reaching the place where Don Quixote stood, +he said, "I will wager you are looking at that hack mule that lies dead +in the hollow there, and, faith, it has been lying there now these six +months; tell me, have you come upon its master about here?" + +"We have come upon nobody," answered Don Quixote, "nor on anything except +a saddle-pad and a little valise that we found not far from this." + +"I found it too," said the goatherd, "but I would not lift it nor go near +it for fear of some ill-luck or being charged with theft, for the devil +is crafty, and things rise up under one's feet to make one fall without +knowing why or wherefore." + +"That's exactly what I say," said Sancho; "I found it too, and I would +not go within a stone's throw of it; there I left it, and there it lies +just as it was, for I don't want a dog with a bell." + +"Tell me, good man," said Don Quixote, "do you know who is the owner of +this property?" + +"All I can tell you," said the goatherd, "is that about six months ago, +more or less, there arrived at a shepherd's hut three leagues, perhaps, +away from this, a youth of well-bred appearance and manners, mounted on +that same mule which lies dead here, and with the same saddle-pad and +valise which you say you found and did not touch. He asked us what part +of this sierra was the most rugged and retired; we told him that it was +where we now are; and so in truth it is, for if you push on half a league +farther, perhaps you will not be able to find your way out; and I am +wondering how you have managed to come here, for there is no road or path +that leads to this spot. I say, then, that on hearing our answer the +youth turned about and made for the place we pointed out to him, leaving +us all charmed with his good looks, and wondering at his question and the +haste with which we saw him depart in the direction of the sierra; and +after that we saw him no more, until some days afterwards he crossed the +path of one of our shepherds, and without saying a word to him, came up +to him and gave him several cuffs and kicks, and then turned to the ass +with our provisions and took all the bread and cheese it carried, and +having done this made off back again into the sierra with extraordinary +swiftness. When some of us goatherds learned this we went in search of +him for about two days through the most remote portion of this sierra, at +the end of which we found him lodged in the hollow of a large thick cork +tree. He came out to meet us with great gentleness, with his dress now +torn and his face so disfigured and burned by the sun, that we hardly +recognised him but that his clothes, though torn, convinced us, from the +recollection we had of them, that he was the person we were looking for. +He saluted us courteously, and in a few well-spoken words he told us not +to wonder at seeing him going about in this guise, as it was binding upon +him in order that he might work out a penance which for his many sins had +been imposed upon him. We asked him to tell us who he was, but we were +never able to find out from him: we begged of him too, when he was in +want of food, which he could not do without, to tell us where we should +find him, as we would bring it to him with all good-will and readiness; +or if this were not to his taste, at least to come and ask it of us and +not take it by force from the shepherds. He thanked us for the offer, +begged pardon for the late assault, and promised for the future to ask it +in God's name without offering violence to anybody. As for fixed abode, +he said he had no other than that which chance offered wherever night +might overtake him; and his words ended in an outburst of weeping so +bitter that we who listened to him must have been very stones had we not +joined him in it, comparing what we saw of him the first time with what +we saw now; for, as I said, he was a graceful and gracious youth, and in +his courteous and polished language showed himself to be of good birth +and courtly breeding, and rustics as we were that listened to him, even +to our rusticity his gentle bearing sufficed to make it plain. + +"But in the midst of his conversation he stopped and became silent, +keeping his eyes fixed upon the ground for some time, during which we +stood still waiting anxiously to see what would come of this abstraction; +and with no little pity, for from his behaviour, now staring at the +ground with fixed gaze and eyes wide open without moving an eyelid, again +closing them, compressing his lips and raising his eyebrows, we could +perceive plainly that a fit of madness of some kind had come upon him; +and before long he showed that what we imagined was the truth, for he +arose in a fury from the ground where he had thrown himself, and attacked +the first he found near him with such rage and fierceness that if we had +not dragged him off him, he would have beaten or bitten him to death, all +the while exclaiming, 'Oh faithless Fernando, here, here shalt thou pay +the penalty of the wrong thou hast done me; these hands shall tear out +that heart of thine, abode and dwelling of all iniquity, but of deceit +and fraud above all; and to these he added other words all in effect +upbraiding this Fernando and charging him with treachery and +faithlessness. + +"We forced him to release his hold with no little difficulty, and without +another word he left us, and rushing off plunged in among these brakes +and brambles, so as to make it impossible for us to follow him; from this +we suppose that madness comes upon him from time to time, and that some +one called Fernando must have done him a wrong of a grievous nature such +as the condition to which it had brought him seemed to show. All this has +been since then confirmed on those occasions, and they have been many, on +which he has crossed our path, at one time to beg the shepherds to give +him some of the food they carry, at another to take it from them by +force; for when there is a fit of madness upon him, even though the +shepherds offer it freely, he will not accept it but snatches it from +them by dint of blows; but when he is in his senses he begs it for the +love of God, courteously and civilly, and receives it with many thanks +and not a few tears. And to tell you the truth, sirs," continued the +goatherd, "it was yesterday that we resolved, I and four of the lads, two +of them our servants, and the other two friends of mine, to go in search +of him until we find him, and when we do to take him, whether by force or +of his own consent, to the town of Almodovar, which is eight leagues from +this, and there strive to cure him (if indeed his malady admits of a +cure), or learn when he is in his senses who he is, and if he has +relatives to whom we may give notice of his misfortune. This, sirs, is +all I can say in answer to what you have asked me; and be sure that the +owner of the articles you found is he whom you saw pass by with such +nimbleness and so naked." + +For Don Quixote had already described how he had seen the man go bounding +along the mountain side, and he was now filled with amazement at what he +heard from the goatherd, and more eager than ever to discover who the +unhappy madman was; and in his heart he resolved, as he had done before, +to search for him all over the mountain, not leaving a corner or cave +unexamined until he had found him. But chance arranged matters better +than he expected or hoped, for at that very moment, in a gorge on the +mountain that opened where they stood, the youth he wished to find made +his appearance, coming along talking to himself in a way that would have +been unintelligible near at hand, much more at a distance. His garb was +what has been described, save that as he drew near, Don Quixote perceived +that a tattered doublet which he wore was amber-tanned, from which he +concluded that one who wore such garments could not be of very low rank. + +Approaching them, the youth greeted them in a harsh and hoarse voice but +with great courtesy. Don Quixote returned his salutation with equal +politeness, and dismounting from Rocinante advanced with well-bred +bearing and grace to embrace him, and held him for some time close in his +arms as if he had known him for a long time. The other, whom we may call +the Ragged One of the Sorry Countenance, as Don Quixote was of the +Rueful, after submitting to the embrace pushed him back a little and, +placing his hands on Don Quixote's shoulders, stood gazing at him as if +seeking to see whether he knew him, not less amazed, perhaps, at the +sight of the face, figure, and armour of Don Quixote than Don Quixote was +at the sight of him. To be brief, the first to speak after embracing was +the Ragged One, and he said what will be told farther on. + +Chapter XXIV. - +In which is continued the adventure of the Sierra Morena + +The history relates that it was with the greatest attention Don Quixote +listened to the ragged knight of the Sierra, who began by saying: + +"Of a surety, senor, whoever you are, for I know you not, I thank you for +the proofs of kindness and courtesy you have shown me, and would I were +in a condition to requite with something more than good-will that which +you have displayed towards me in the cordial reception you have given me; +but my fate does not afford me any other means of returning kindnesses +done me save the hearty desire to repay them." + +"Mine," replied Don Quixote, "is to be of service to you, so much so that +I had resolved not to quit these mountains until I had found you, and +learned of you whether there is any kind of relief to be found for that +sorrow under which from the strangeness of your life you seem to labour; +and to search for you with all possible diligence, if search had been +necessary. And if your misfortune should prove to be one of those that +refuse admission to any sort of consolation, it was my purpose to join +you in lamenting and mourning over it, so far as I could; for it is still +some comfort in misfortune to find one who can feel for it. And if my +good intentions deserve to be acknowledged with any kind of courtesy, I +entreat you, senor, by that which I perceive you possess in so high a +degree, and likewise conjure you by whatever you love or have loved best +in life, to tell me who you are and the cause that has brought you to +live or die in these solitudes like a brute beast, dwelling among them in +a manner so foreign to your condition as your garb and appearance show. +And I swear," added Don Quixote, "by the order of knighthood which I have +received, and by my vocation of knight-errant, if you gratify me in this, +to serve you with all the zeal my calling demands of me, either in +relieving your misfortune if it admits of relief, or in joining you in +lamenting it as I promised to do." + +The Knight of the Thicket, hearing him of the Rueful Countenance talk in +this strain, did nothing but stare at him, and stare at him again, and +again survey him from head to foot; and when he had thoroughly examined +him, he said to him: + +"If you have anything to give me to eat, for God's sake give it me, and +after I have eaten I will do all you ask in acknowledgment of the +goodwill you have displayed towards me." + +Sancho from his sack, and the goatherd from his pouch, furnished the +Ragged One with the means of appeasing his hunger, and what they gave him +he ate like a half-witted being, so hastily that he took no time between +mouthfuls, gorging rather than swallowing; and while he ate neither he +nor they who observed him uttered a word. As soon as he had done he made +signs to them to follow him, which they did, and he led them to a green +plot which lay a little farther off round the corner of a rock. On +reaching it he stretched himself upon the grass, and the others did the +same, all keeping silence, until the Ragged One, settling himself in his +place, said: + +"If it is your wish, sirs, that I should disclose in a few words the +surpassing extent of my misfortunes, you must promise not to break the +thread of my sad story with any question or other interruption, for the +instant you do so the tale I tell will come to an end." + +These words of the Ragged One reminded Don Quixote of the tale his squire +had told him, when he failed to keep count of the goats that had crossed +the river and the story remained unfinished; but to return to the Ragged +One, he went on to say: + +"I give you this warning because I wish to pass briefly over the story of +my misfortunes, for recalling them to memory only serves to add fresh +ones, and the less you question me the sooner shall I make an end of the +recital, though I shall not omit to relate anything of importance in +order fully to satisfy your curiosity." + +Don Quixote gave the promise for himself and the others, and with this +assurance he began as follows: + +"My name is Cardenio, my birthplace one of the best cities of this +Andalusia, my family noble, my parents rich, my misfortune so great that +my parents must have wept and my family grieved over it without being +able by their wealth to lighten it; for the gifts of fortune can do +little to relieve reverses sent by Heaven. In that same country there was +a heaven in which love had placed all the glory I could desire; such was +the beauty of Luscinda, a damsel as noble and as rich as I, but of +happier fortunes, and of less firmness than was due to so worthy a +passion as mine. This Luscinda I loved, worshipped, and adored from my +earliest and tenderest years, and she loved me in all the innocence and +sincerity of childhood. Our parents were aware of our feelings, and were +not sorry to perceive them, for they saw clearly that as they ripened +they must lead at last to a marriage between us, a thing that seemed +almost prearranged by the equality of our families and wealth. We grew +up, and with our growth grew the love between us, so that the father of +Luscinda felt bound for propriety's sake to refuse me admission to his +house, in this perhaps imitating the parents of that Thisbe so celebrated +by the poets, and this refusal but added love to love and flame to flame; +for though they enforced silence upon our tongues they could not impose +it upon our pens, which can make known the heart's secrets to a loved one +more freely than tongues; for many a time the presence of the object of +love shakes the firmest will and strikes dumb the boldest tongue. Ah +heavens! how many letters did I write her, and how many dainty modest +replies did I receive! how many ditties and love-songs did I compose in +which my heart declared and made known its feelings, described its ardent +longings, revelled in its recollections and dallied with its desires! At +length growing impatient and feeling my heart languishing with longing to +see her, I resolved to put into execution and carry out what seemed to me +the best mode of winning my desired and merited reward, to ask her of her +father for my lawful wife, which I did. To this his answer was that he +thanked me for the disposition I showed to do honour to him and to regard +myself as honoured by the bestowal of his treasure; but that as my father +was alive it was his by right to make this demand, for if it were not in +accordance with his full will and pleasure, Luscinda was not to be taken +or given by stealth. I thanked him for his kindness, reflecting that +there was reason in what he said, and that my father would assent to it +as soon as I should tell him, and with that view I went the very same +instant to let him know what my desires were. When I entered the room +where he was I found him with an open letter in his hand, which, before I +could utter a word, he gave me, saying, 'By this letter thou wilt see, +Cardenio, the disposition the Duke Ricardo has to serve thee.' This Duke +Ricardo, as you, sirs, probably know already, is a grandee of Spain who +has his seat in the best part of this Andalusia. I took and read the +letter, which was couched in terms so flattering that even I myself felt +it would be wrong in my father not to comply with the request the duke +made in it, which was that he would send me immediately to him, as he +wished me to become the companion, not servant, of his eldest son, and +would take upon himself the charge of placing me in a position +corresponding to the esteem in which he held me. On reading the letter my +voice failed me, and still more when I heard my father say, 'Two days +hence thou wilt depart, Cardenio, in accordance with the duke's wish, and +give thanks to God who is opening a road to thee by which thou mayest +attain what I know thou dost deserve; and to these words he added others +of fatherly counsel. The time for my departure arrived; I spoke one night +to Luscinda, I told her all that had occurred, as I did also to her +father, entreating him to allow some delay, and to defer the disposal of +her hand until I should see what the Duke Ricardo sought of me: he gave +me the promise, and she confirmed it with vows and swoonings unnumbered. +Finally, I presented myself to the duke, and was received and treated by +him so kindly that very soon envy began to do its work, the old servants +growing envious of me, and regarding the duke's inclination to show me +favour as an injury to themselves. But the one to whom my arrival gave +the greatest pleasure was the duke's second son, Fernando by name, a +gallant youth, of noble, generous, and amorous disposition, who very soon +made so intimate a friend of me that it was remarked by everybody; for +though the elder was attached to me, and showed me kindness, he did not +carry his affectionate treatment to the same length as Don Fernando. It +so happened, then, that as between friends no secret remains unshared, +and as the favour I enjoyed with Don Fernando had grown into friendship, +he made all his thoughts known to me, and in particular a love affair +which troubled his mind a little. He was deeply in love with a peasant +girl, a vassal of his father's, the daughter of wealthy parents, and +herself so beautiful, modest, discreet, and virtuous, that no one who +knew her was able to decide in which of these respects she was most +highly gifted or most excelled. The attractions of the fair peasant +raised the passion of Don Fernando to such a point that, in order to gain +his object and overcome her virtuous resolutions, he determined to pledge +his word to her to become her husband, for to attempt it in any other way +was to attempt an impossibility. Bound to him as I was by friendship, I +strove by the best arguments and the most forcible examples I could think +of to restrain and dissuade him from such a course; but perceiving I +produced no effect I resolved to make the Duke Ricardo, his father, +acquainted with the matter; but Don Fernando, being sharp-witted and +shrewd, foresaw and apprehended this, perceiving that by my duty as a +good servant I was bound not to keep concealed a thing so much opposed to +the honour of my lord the duke; and so, to mislead and deceive me, he +told me he could find no better way of effacing from his mind the beauty +that so enslaved him than by absenting himself for some months, and that +he wished the absence to be effected by our going, both of us, to my +father's house under the pretence, which he would make to the duke, of +going to see and buy some fine horses that there were in my city, which +produces the best in the world. When I heard him say so, even if his +resolution had not been so good a one I should have hailed it as one of +the happiest that could be imagined, prompted by my affection, seeing +what a favourable chance and opportunity it offered me of returning to +see my Luscinda. With this thought and wish I commended his idea and +encouraged his design, advising him to put it into execution as quickly +as possible, as, in truth, absence produced its effect in spite of the +most deeply rooted feelings. But, as afterwards appeared, when he said +this to me he had already enjoyed the peasant girl under the title of +husband, and was waiting for an opportunity of making it known with +safety to himself, being in dread of what his father the duke would do +when he came to know of his folly. It happened, then, that as with young +men love is for the most part nothing more than appetite, which, as its +final object is enjoyment, comes to an end on obtaining it, and that +which seemed to be love takes to flight, as it cannot pass the limit +fixed by nature, which fixes no limit to true love--what I mean is that +after Don Fernando had enjoyed this peasant girl his passion subsided and +his eagerness cooled, and if at first he feigned a wish to absent himself +in order to cure his love, he was now in reality anxious to go to avoid +keeping his promise. + +"The duke gave him permission, and ordered me to accompany him; we +arrived at my city, and my father gave him the reception due to his rank; +I saw Luscinda without delay, and, though it had not been dead or +deadened, my love gathered fresh life. To my sorrow I told the story of +it to Don Fernando, for I thought that in virtue of the great friendship +he bore me I was bound to conceal nothing from him. I extolled her +beauty, her gaiety, her wit, so warmly, that my praises excited in him a +desire to see a damsel adorned by such attractions. To my misfortune I +yielded to it, showing her to him one night by the light of a taper at a +window where we used to talk to one another. As she appeared to him in +her dressing-gown, she drove all the beauties he had seen until then out +of his recollection; speech failed him, his head turned, he was +spell-bound, and in the end love-smitten, as you will see in the course +of the story of my misfortune; and to inflame still further his passion, +which he hid from me and revealed to Heaven alone, it so happened that +one day he found a note of hers entreating me to demand her of her father +in marriage, so delicate, so modest, and so tender, that on reading it he +told me that in Luscinda alone were combined all the charms of beauty and +understanding that were distributed among all the other women in the +world. It is true, and I own it now, that though I knew what good cause +Don Fernando had to praise Luscinda, it gave me uneasiness to hear these +praises from his mouth, and I began to fear, and with reason to feel +distrust of him, for there was no moment when he was not ready to talk of +Luscinda, and he would start the subject himself even though he dragged +it in unseasonably, a circumstance that aroused in me a certain amount of +jealousy; not that I feared any change in the constancy or faith of +Luscinda; but still my fate led me to forebode what she assured me +against. Don Fernando contrived always to read the letters I sent to +Luscinda and her answers to me, under the pretence that he enjoyed the +wit and sense of both. It so happened, then, that Luscinda having begged +of me a book of chivalry to read, one that she was very fond of, Amadis +of Gaul-" + +Don Quixote no sooner heard a book of chivalry mentioned, than he said: + +"Had your worship told me at the beginning of your story that the Lady +Luscinda was fond of books of chivalry, no other laudation would have +been requisite to impress upon me the superiority of her understanding, +for it could not have been of the excellence you describe had a taste for +such delightful reading been wanting; so, as far as I am concerned, you +need waste no more words in describing her beauty, worth, and +intelligence; for, on merely hearing what her taste was, I declare her to +be the most beautiful and the most intelligent woman in the world; and I +wish your worship had, along with Amadis of Gaul, sent her the worthy Don +Rugel of Greece, for I know the Lady Luscinda would greatly relish +Daraida and Garaya, and the shrewd sayings of the shepherd Darinel, and +the admirable verses of his bucolics, sung and delivered by him with such +sprightliness, wit, and ease; but a time may come when this omission can +be remedied, and to rectify it nothing more is needed than for your +worship to be so good as to come with me to my village, for there I can +give you more than three hundred books which are the delight of my soul +and the entertainment of my life;--though it occurs to me that I have not +got one of them now, thanks to the spite of wicked and envious +enchanters;--but pardon me for having broken the promise we made not to +interrupt your discourse; for when I hear chivalry or knights-errant +mentioned, I can no more help talking about them than the rays of the sun +can help giving heat, or those of the moon moisture; pardon me, +therefore, and proceed, for that is more to the purpose now." + +While Don Quixote was saying this, Cardenio allowed his head to fall upon +his breast, and seemed plunged in deep thought; and though twice Don +Quixote bade him go on with his story, he neither looked up nor uttered a +word in reply; but after some time he raised his head and said, "I cannot +get rid of the idea, nor will anyone in the world remove it, or make me +think otherwise--and he would be a blockhead who would hold or believe +anything else than that that arrant knave Master Elisabad made free with +Queen Madasima." + +"That is not true, by all that's good," said Don Quixote in high wrath, +turning upon him angrily, as his way was; "and it is a very great +slander, or rather villainy. Queen Madasima was a very illustrious lady, +and it is not to be supposed that so exalted a princess would have made +free with a quack; and whoever maintains the contrary lies like a great +scoundrel, and I will give him to know it, on foot or on horseback, armed +or unarmed, by night or by day, or as he likes best." + +Cardenio was looking at him steadily, and his mad fit having now come +upon him, he had no disposition to go on with his story, nor would Don +Quixote have listened to it, so much had what he had heard about Madasima +disgusted him. Strange to say, he stood up for her as if she were in +earnest his veritable born lady; to such a pass had his unholy books +brought him. Cardenio, then, being, as I said, now mad, when he heard +himself given the lie, and called a scoundrel and other insulting names, +not relishing the jest, snatched up a stone that he found near him, and +with it delivered such a blow on Don Quixote's breast that he laid him on +his back. Sancho Panza, seeing his master treated in this fashion, +attacked the madman with his closed fist; but the Ragged One received him +in such a way that with a blow of his fist he stretched him at his feet, +and then mounting upon him crushed his ribs to his own satisfaction; the +goatherd, who came to the rescue, shared the same fate; and having beaten +and pummelled them all he left them and quietly withdrew to his +hiding-place on the mountain. Sancho rose, and with the rage he felt at +finding himself so belaboured without deserving it, ran to take vengeance +on the goatherd, accusing him of not giving them warning that this man +was at times taken with a mad fit, for if they had known it they would +have been on their guard to protect themselves. The goatherd replied that +he had said so, and that if he had not heard him, that was no fault of +his. Sancho retorted, and the goatherd rejoined, and the altercation +ended in their seizing each other by the beard, and exchanging such +fisticuffs that if Don Quixote had not made peace between them, they +would have knocked one another to pieces. + +"Leave me alone, Sir Knight of the Rueful Countenance," said Sancho, +grappling with the goatherd, "for of this fellow, who is a clown like +myself, and no dubbed knight, I can safely take satisfaction for the +affront he has offered me, fighting with him hand to hand like an honest +man." + +"That is true," said Don Quixote, "but I know that he is not to blame for +what has happened." + +With this he pacified them, and again asked the goatherd if it would be +possible to find Cardenio, as he felt the greatest anxiety to know the +end of his story. The goatherd told him, as he had told him before, that +there was no knowing of a certainty where his lair was; but that if he +wandered about much in that neighbourhood he could not fail to fall in +with him either in or out of his senses. + +Chapter XXV. - +Which treats of the strange things that happened to the stout Knight of +La Mancha in the Sierra Morena, and of his imitation of the penance of +Beltenebros + +Don Quixote took leave of the goatherd, and once more mounting Rocinante +bade Sancho follow him, which he having no ass, did very discontentedly. +They proceeded slowly, making their way into the most rugged part of the +mountain, Sancho all the while dying to have a talk with his master, and +longing for him to begin, so that there should be no breach of the +injunction laid upon him; but unable to keep silence so long he said to +him: + +"Senor Don Quixote, give me your worship's blessing and dismissal, for +I'd like to go home at once to my wife and children with whom I can at +any rate talk and converse as much as I like; for to want me to go +through these solitudes day and night and not speak to you when I have a +mind is burying me alive. If luck would have it that animals spoke as +they did in the days of Guisopete, it would not be so bad, because I +could talk to Rocinante about whatever came into my head, and so put up +with my ill-fortune; but it is a hard case, and not to be borne with +patience, to go seeking adventures all one's life and get nothing but +kicks and blanketings, brickbats and punches, and with all this to have +to sew up one's mouth without daring to say what is in one's heart, just +as if one were dumb." + +"I understand thee, Sancho," replied Don Quixote; "thou art dying to have +the interdict I placed upon thy tongue removed; consider it removed, and +say what thou wilt while we are wandering in these mountains." + +"So be it," said Sancho; "let me speak now, for God knows what will +happen by-and-by; and to take advantage of the permit at once, I ask, +what made your worship stand up so for that Queen Majimasa, or whatever +her name is, or what did it matter whether that abbot was a friend of +hers or not? for if your worship had let that pass--and you were not a +judge in the matter--it is my belief the madman would have gone on with +his story, and the blow of the stone, and the kicks, and more than half a +dozen cuffs would have been escaped." + +"In faith, Sancho," answered Don Quixote, "if thou knewest as I do what +an honourable and illustrious lady Queen Madasima was, I know thou +wouldst say I had great patience that I did not break in pieces the mouth +that uttered such blasphemies, for a very great blasphemy it is to say or +imagine that a queen has made free with a surgeon. The truth of the story +is that that Master Elisabad whom the madman mentioned was a man of great +prudence and sound judgment, and served as governor and physician to the +queen, but to suppose that she was his mistress is nonsense deserving +very severe punishment; and as a proof that Cardenio did not know what he +was saying, remember when he said it he was out of his wits." + +"That is what I say," said Sancho; "there was no occasion for minding the +words of a madman; for if good luck had not helped your worship, and he +had sent that stone at your head instead of at your breast, a fine way we +should have been in for standing up for my lady yonder, God confound her! +And then, would not Cardenio have gone free as a madman?" + +"Against men in their senses or against madmen," said Don Quixote, "every +knight-errant is bound to stand up for the honour of women, whoever they +may be, much more for queens of such high degree and dignity as Queen +Madasima, for whom I have a particular regard on account of her amiable +qualities; for, besides being extremely beautiful, she was very wise, and +very patient under her misfortunes, of which she had many; and the +counsel and society of the Master Elisabad were a great help and support +to her in enduring her afflictions with wisdom and resignation; hence the +ignorant and ill-disposed vulgar took occasion to say and think that she +was his mistress; and they lie, I say it once more, and will lie two +hundred times more, all who think and say so." + +"I neither say nor think so," said Sancho; "let them look to it; with +their bread let them eat it; they have rendered account to God whether +they misbehaved or not; I come from my vineyard, I know nothing; I am not +fond of prying into other men's lives; he who buys and lies feels it in +his purse; moreover, naked was I born, naked I find myself, I neither +lose nor gain; but if they did, what is that to me? many think there are +flitches where there are no hooks; but who can put gates to the open +plain? moreover they said of God-" + +"God bless me," said Don Quixote, "what a set of absurdities thou art +stringing together! What has what we are talking about got to do with the +proverbs thou art threading one after the other? for God's sake hold thy +tongue, Sancho, and henceforward keep to prodding thy ass and don't +meddle in what does not concern thee; and understand with all thy five +senses that everything I have done, am doing, or shall do, is well +founded on reason and in conformity with the rules of chivalry, for I +understand them better than all the world that profess them." + +"Senor," replied Sancho, "is it a good rule of chivalry that we should go +astray through these mountains without path or road, looking for a madman +who when he is found will perhaps take a fancy to finish what he began, +not his story, but your worship's head and my ribs, and end by breaking +them altogether for us?" + +"Peace, I say again, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "for let me tell thee it +is not so much the desire of finding that madman that leads me into these +regions as that which I have of performing among them an achievement +wherewith I shall win eternal name and fame throughout the known world; +and it shall be such that I shall thereby set the seal on all that can +make a knight-errant perfect and famous." + +"And is it very perilous, this achievement?" + +"No," replied he of the Rueful Countenance; "though it may be in the dice +that we may throw deuce-ace instead of sixes; but all will depend on thy +diligence." + +"On my diligence!" said Sancho. + +"Yes," said Don Quixote, "for if thou dost return soon from the place +where I mean to send thee, my penance will be soon over, and my glory +will soon begin. But as it is not right to keep thee any longer in +suspense, waiting to see what comes of my words, I would have thee know, +Sancho, that the famous Amadis of Gaul was one of the most perfect +knights-errant--I am wrong to say he was one; he stood alone, the first, +the only one, the lord of all that were in the world in his time. A fig +for Don Belianis, and for all who say he equalled him in any respect, +for, my oath upon it, they are deceiving themselves! I say, too, that +when a painter desires to become famous in his art he endeavours to copy +the originals of the rarest painters that he knows; and the same rule +holds good for all the most important crafts and callings that serve to +adorn a state; thus must he who would be esteemed prudent and patient +imitate Ulysses, in whose person and labours Homer presents to us a +lively picture of prudence and patience; as Virgil, too, shows us in the +person of AEneas the virtue of a pious son and the sagacity of a brave +and skilful captain; not representing or describing them as they were, +but as they ought to be, so as to leave the example of their virtues to +posterity. In the same way Amadis was the polestar, day-star, sun of +valiant and devoted knights, whom all we who fight under the banner of +love and chivalry are bound to imitate. This, then, being so, I consider, +friend Sancho, that the knight-errant who shall imitate him most closely +will come nearest to reaching the perfection of chivalry. Now one of the +instances in which this knight most conspicuously showed his prudence, +worth, valour, endurance, fortitude, and love, was when he withdrew, +rejected by the Lady Oriana, to do penance upon the Pena Pobre, changing +his name into that of Beltenebros, a name assuredly significant and +appropriate to the life which he had voluntarily adopted. So, as it is +easier for me to imitate him in this than in cleaving giants asunder, +cutting off serpents' heads, slaying dragons, routing armies, destroying +fleets, and breaking enchantments, and as this place is so well suited +for a similar purpose, I must not allow the opportunity to escape which +now so conveniently offers me its forelock." + +"What is it in reality," said Sancho, "that your worship means to do in +such an out-of-the-way place as this?" + +"Have I not told thee," answered Don Quixote, "that I mean to imitate +Amadis here, playing the victim of despair, the madman, the maniac, so as +at the same time to imitate the valiant Don Roland, when at the fountain +he had evidence of the fair Angelica having disgraced herself with Medoro +and through grief thereat went mad, and plucked up trees, troubled the +waters of the clear springs, slew destroyed flocks, burned down huts, +levelled houses, dragged mares after him, and perpetrated a hundred +thousand other outrages worthy of everlasting renown and record? And +though I have no intention of imitating Roland, or Orlando, or Rotolando +(for he went by all these names), step by step in all the mad things he +did, said, and thought, I will make a rough copy to the best of my power +of all that seems to me most essential; but perhaps I shall content +myself with the simple imitation of Amadis, who without giving way to any +mischievous madness but merely to tears and sorrow, gained as much fame +as the most famous." + +"It seems to me," said Sancho, "that the knights who behaved in this way +had provocation and cause for those follies and penances; but what cause +has your worship for going mad? What lady has rejected you, or what +evidence have you found to prove that the lady Dulcinea del Toboso has +been trifling with Moor or Christian?" + +"There is the point," replied Don Quixote, "and that is the beauty of +this business of mine; no thanks to a knight-errant for going mad when he +has cause; the thing is to turn crazy without any provocation, and let my +lady know, if I do this in the dry, what I would do in the moist; +moreover I have abundant cause in the long separation I have endured from +my lady till death, Dulcinea del Toboso; for as thou didst hear that +shepherd Ambrosio say the other day, in absence all ills are felt and +feared; and so, friend Sancho, waste no time in advising me against so +rare, so happy, and so unheard-of an imitation; mad I am, and mad I must +be until thou returnest with the answer to a letter that I mean to send +by thee to my lady Dulcinea; and if it be such as my constancy deserves, +my insanity and penance will come to an end; and if it be to the opposite +effect, I shall become mad in earnest, and, being so, I shall suffer no +more; thus in whatever way she may answer I shall escape from the +struggle and affliction in which thou wilt leave me, enjoying in my +senses the boon thou bearest me, or as a madman not feeling the evil thou +bringest me. But tell me, Sancho, hast thou got Mambrino's helmet safe? +for I saw thee take it up from the ground when that ungrateful wretch +tried to break it in pieces but could not, by which the fineness of its +temper may be seen." + +To which Sancho made answer, "By the living God, Sir Knight of the Rueful +Countenance, I cannot endure or bear with patience some of the things +that your worship says; and from them I begin to suspect that all you +tell me about chivalry, and winning kingdoms and empires, and giving +islands, and bestowing other rewards and dignities after the custom of +knights-errant, must be all made up of wind and lies, and all pigments or +figments, or whatever we may call them; for what would anyone think that +heard your worship calling a barber's basin Mambrino's helmet without +ever seeing the mistake all this time, but that one who says and +maintains such things must have his brains addled? I have the basin in my +sack all dinted, and I am taking it home to have it mended, to trim my +beard in it, if, by God's grace, I am allowed to see my wife and children +some day or other." + +"Look here, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "by him thou didst swear by just +now I swear thou hast the most limited understanding that any squire in +the world has or ever had. Is it possible that all this time thou hast +been going about with me thou hast never found out that all things +belonging to knights-errant seem to be illusions and nonsense and +ravings, and to go always by contraries? And not because it really is so, +but because there is always a swarm of enchanters in attendance upon us +that change and alter everything with us, and turn things as they please, +and according as they are disposed to aid or destroy us; thus what seems +to thee a barber's basin seems to me Mambrino's helmet, and to another it +will seem something else; and rare foresight it was in the sage who is on +my side to make what is really and truly Mambrine's helmet seem a basin +to everybody, for, being held in such estimation as it is, all the world +would pursue me to rob me of it; but when they see it is only a barber's +basin they do not take the trouble to obtain it; as was plainly shown by +him who tried to break it, and left it on the ground without taking it, +for, by my faith, had he known it he would never have left it behind. +Keep it safe, my friend, for just now I have no need of it; indeed, I +shall have to take off all this armour and remain as naked as I was born, +if I have a mind to follow Roland rather than Amadis in my penance." + +Thus talking they reached the foot of a high mountain which stood like an +isolated peak among the others that surrounded it. Past its base there +flowed a gentle brook, all around it spread a meadow so green and +luxuriant that it was a delight to the eyes to look upon it, and forest +trees in abundance, and shrubs and flowers, added to the charms of the +spot. Upon this place the Knight of the Rueful Countenance fixed his +choice for the performance of his penance, and as he beheld it exclaimed +in a loud voice as though he were out of his senses: + +"This is the place, oh, ye heavens, that I select and choose for +bewailing the misfortune in which ye yourselves have plunged me: this is +the spot where the overflowings of mine eyes shall swell the waters of +yon little brook, and my deep and endless sighs shall stir unceasingly +the leaves of these mountain trees, in testimony and token of the pain my +persecuted heart is suffering. Oh, ye rural deities, whoever ye be that +haunt this lone spot, give ear to the complaint of a wretched lover whom +long absence and brooding jealousy have driven to bewail his fate among +these wilds and complain of the hard heart of that fair and ungrateful +one, the end and limit of all human beauty! Oh, ye wood nymphs and +dryads, that dwell in the thickets of the forest, so may the nimble +wanton satyrs by whom ye are vainly wooed never disturb your sweet +repose, help me to lament my hard fate or at least weary not at listening +to it! Oh, Dulcinea del Toboso, day of my night, glory of my pain, guide +of my path, star of my fortune, so may Heaven grant thee in full all thou +seekest of it, bethink thee of the place and condition to which absence +from thee has brought me, and make that return in kindness that is due to +my fidelity! Oh, lonely trees, that from this day forward shall bear me +company in my solitude, give me some sign by the gentle movement of your +boughs that my presence is not distasteful to you! Oh, thou, my squire, +pleasant companion in my prosperous and adverse fortunes, fix well in thy +memory what thou shalt see me do here, so that thou mayest relate and +report it to the sole cause of all," and so saying he dismounted from +Rocinante, and in an instant relieved him of saddle and bridle, and +giving him a slap on the croup, said, "He gives thee freedom who is +bereft of it himself, oh steed as excellent in deed as thou art +unfortunate in thy lot; begone where thou wilt, for thou bearest written +on thy forehead that neither Astolfo's hippogriff, nor the famed Frontino +that cost Bradamante so dear, could equal thee in speed." + +Seeing this Sancho said, "Good luck to him who has saved us the trouble +of stripping the pack-saddle off Dapple! By my faith he would not have +gone without a slap on the croup and something said in his praise; though +if he were here I would not let anyone strip him, for there would be no +occasion, as he had nothing of the lover or victim of despair about him, +inasmuch as his master, which I was while it was God's pleasure, was +nothing of the sort; and indeed, Sir Knight of the Rueful Countenance, if +my departure and your worship's madness are to come off in earnest, it +will be as well to saddle Rocinante again in order that he may supply the +want of Dapple, because it will save me time in going and returning: for +if I go on foot I don't know when I shall get there or when I shall get +back, as I am, in truth, a bad walker." + +"I declare, Sancho," returned Don Quixote, "it shall be as thou wilt, for +thy plan does not seem to me a bad one, and three days hence thou wilt +depart, for I wish thee to observe in the meantime what I do and say for +her sake, that thou mayest be able to tell it." + +"But what more have I to see besides what I have seen?" said Sancho. + +"Much thou knowest about it!" said Don Quixote. "I have now got to tear +up my garments, to scatter about my armour, knock my head against these +rocks, and more of the same sort of thing, which thou must witness." + +"For the love of God," said Sancho, "be careful, your worship, how you +give yourself those knocks on the head, for you may come across such a +rock, and in such a way, that the very first may put an end to the whole +contrivance of this penance; and I should think, if indeed knocks on the +head seem necessary to you, and this business cannot be done without +them, you might be content--as the whole thing is feigned, and +counterfeit, and in joke--you might be content, I say, with giving them +to yourself in the water, or against something soft, like cotton; and +leave it all to me; for I'll tell my lady that your worship knocked your +head against a point of rock harder than a diamond." + +"I thank thee for thy good intentions, friend Sancho," answered Don +Quixote, "but I would have thee know that all these things I am doing are +not in joke, but very much in earnest, for anything else would be a +transgression of the ordinances of chivalry, which forbid us to tell any +lie whatever under the penalties due to apostasy; and to do one thing +instead of another is just the same as lying; so my knocks on the head +must be real, solid, and valid, without anything sophisticated or +fanciful about them, and it will be needful to leave me some lint to +dress my wounds, since fortune has compelled us to do without the balsam +we lost." + +"It was worse losing the ass," replied Sancho, "for with him lint and all +were lost; but I beg of your worship not to remind me again of that +accursed liquor, for my soul, not to say my stomach, turns at hearing the +very name of it; and I beg of you, too, to reckon as past the three days +you allowed me for seeing the mad things you do, for I take them as seen +already and pronounced upon, and I will tell wonderful stories to my +lady; so write the letter and send me off at once, for I long to return +and take your worship out of this purgatory where I am leaving you." + +"Purgatory dost thou call it, Sancho?" said Don Quixote, "rather call it +hell, or even worse if there be anything worse." + +"For one who is in hell," said Sancho, "nulla est retentio, as I have +heard say." + +"I do not understand what retentio means," said Don Quixote. + +"Retentio," answered Sancho, "means that whoever is in hell never comes +nor can come out of it, which will be the opposite case with your worship +or my legs will be idle, that is if I have spurs to enliven Rocinante: +let me once get to El Toboso and into the presence of my lady Dulcinea, +and I will tell her such things of the follies and madnesses (for it is +all one) that your worship has done and is still doing, that I will +manage to make her softer than a glove though I find her harder than a +cork tree; and with her sweet and honeyed answer I will come back through +the air like a witch, and take your worship out of this purgatory that +seems to be hell but is not, as there is hope of getting out of it; +which, as I have said, those in hell have not, and I believe your worship +will not say anything to the contrary." + +"That is true," said he of the Rueful Countenance, "but how shall we +manage to write the letter?" + +"And the ass-colt order too," added Sancho. + +"All shall be included," said Don Quixote; "and as there is no paper, it +would be well done to write it on the leaves of trees, as the ancients +did, or on tablets of wax; though that would be as hard to find just now +as paper. But it has just occurred to me how it may be conveniently and +even more than conveniently written, and that is in the note-book that +belonged to Cardenio, and thou wilt take care to have it copied on paper, +in a good hand, at the first village thou comest to where there is a +schoolmaster, or if not, any sacristan will copy it; but see thou give it +not to any notary to copy, for they write a law hand that Satan could not +make out." + +"But what is to be done about the signature?" said Sancho. + +"The letters of Amadis were never signed," said Don Quixote. + +"That is all very well," said Sancho, "but the order must needs be +signed, and if it is copied they will say the signature is false, and I +shall be left without ass-colts." + +"The order shall go signed in the same book," said Don Quixote, "and on +seeing it my niece will make no difficulty about obeying it; as to the +loveletter thou canst put by way of signature, 'Yours till death, the +Knight of the Rueful Countenance.' And it will be no great matter if it +is in some other person's hand, for as well as I recollect Dulcinea can +neither read nor write, nor in the whole course of her life has she seen +handwriting or letter of mine, for my love and hers have been always +platonic, not going beyond a modest look, and even that so seldom that I +can safely swear I have not seen her four times in all these twelve years +I have been loving her more than the light of these eyes that the earth +will one day devour; and perhaps even of those four times she has not +once perceived that I was looking at her: such is the retirement and +seclusion in which her father Lorenzo Corchuelo and her mother Aldonza +Nogales have brought her up." + +"So, so!" said Sancho; "Lorenzo Corchuelo's daughter is the lady Dulcinea +del Toboso, otherwise called Aldonza Lorenzo?" + +"She it is," said Don Quixote, "and she it is that is worthy to be lady +of the whole universe." + +"I know her well," said Sancho, "and let me tell you she can fling a +crowbar as well as the lustiest lad in all the town. Giver of all good! +but she is a brave lass, and a right and stout one, and fit to be +helpmate to any knight-errant that is or is to be, who may make her his +lady: the whoreson wench, what sting she has and what a voice! I can tell +you one day she posted herself on the top of the belfry of the village to +call some labourers of theirs that were in a ploughed field of her +father's, and though they were better than half a league off they heard +her as well as if they were at the foot of the tower; and the best of her +is that she is not a bit prudish, for she has plenty of affability, and +jokes with everybody, and has a grin and a jest for everything. So, Sir +Knight of the Rueful Countenance, I say you not only may and ought to do +mad freaks for her sake, but you have a good right to give way to despair +and hang yourself; and no one who knows of it but will say you did well, +though the devil should take you; and I wish I were on my road already, +simply to see her, for it is many a day since I saw her, and she must be +altered by this time, for going about the fields always, and the sun and +the air spoil women's looks greatly. But I must own the truth to your +worship, Senor Don Quixote; until now I have been under a great mistake, +for I believed truly and honestly that the lady Dulcinea must be some +princess your worship was in love with, or some person great enough to +deserve the rich presents you have sent her, such as the Biscayan and the +galley slaves, and many more no doubt, for your worship must have won +many victories in the time when I was not yet your squire. But all things +considered, what good can it do the lady Aldonza Lorenzo, I mean the lady +Dulcinea del Toboso, to have the vanquished your worship sends or will +send coming to her and going down on their knees before her? Because may +be when they came she'd be hackling flax or threshing on the threshing +floor, and they'd be ashamed to see her, and she'd laugh, or resent the +present." + +"I have before now told thee many times, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that +thou art a mighty great chatterer, and that with a blunt wit thou art +always striving at sharpness; but to show thee what a fool thou art and +how rational I am, I would have thee listen to a short story. Thou must +know that a certain widow, fair, young, independent, and rich, and above +all free and easy, fell in love with a sturdy strapping young +lay-brother; his superior came to know of it, and one day said to the +worthy widow by way of brotherly remonstrance, 'I am surprised, senora, +and not without good reason, that a woman of such high standing, so fair, +and so rich as you are, should have fallen in love with such a mean, low, +stupid fellow as So-and-so, when in this house there are so many masters, +graduates, and divinity students from among whom you might choose as if +they were a lot of pears, saying this one I'll take, that I won't take;' +but she replied to him with great sprightliness and candour, 'My dear +sir, you are very much mistaken, and your ideas are very old-fashioned, +if you think that I have made a bad choice in So-and-so, fool as he +seems; because for all I want with him he knows as much and more +philosophy than Aristotle.' In the same way, Sancho, for all I want with +Dulcinea del Toboso she is just as good as the most exalted princess on +earth. It is not to be supposed that all those poets who sang the praises +of ladies under the fancy names they give them, had any such mistresses. +Thinkest thou that the Amarillises, the Phillises, the Sylvias, the +Dianas, the Galateas, the Filidas, and all the rest of them, that the +books, the ballads, the barber's shops, the theatres are full of, were +really and truly ladies of flesh and blood, and mistresses of those that +glorify and have glorified them? Nothing of the kind; they only invent +them for the most part to furnish a subject for their verses, and that +they may pass for lovers, or for men valiant enough to be so; and so it +suffices me to think and believe that the good Aldonza Lorenzo is fair +and virtuous; and as to her pedigree it is very little matter, for no one +will examine into it for the purpose of conferring any order upon her, +and I, for my part, reckon her the most exalted princess in the world. +For thou shouldst know, Sancho, if thou dost not know, that two things +alone beyond all others are incentives to love, and these are great +beauty and a good name, and these two things are to be found in Dulcinea +in the highest degree, for in beauty no one equals her and in good name +few approach her; and to put the whole thing in a nutshell, I persuade +myself that all I say is as I say, neither more nor less, and I picture +her in my imagination as I would have her to be, as well in beauty as in +condition; Helen approaches her not nor does Lucretia come up to her, nor +any other of the famous women of times past, Greek, Barbarian, or Latin; +and let each say what he will, for if in this I am taken to task by the +ignorant, I shall not be censured by the critical." + +"I say that your worship is entirely right," said Sancho, "and that I am +an ass. But I know not how the name of ass came into my mouth, for a rope +is not to be mentioned in the house of him who has been hanged; but now +for the letter, and then, God be with you, I am off." + +Don Quixote took out the note-book, and, retiring to one side, very +deliberately began to write the letter, and when he had finished it he +called to Sancho, saying he wished to read it to him, so that he might +commit it to memory, in case of losing it on the road; for with evil +fortune like his anything might be apprehended. To which Sancho replied, +"Write it two or three times there in the book and give it to me, and I +will carry it very carefully, because to expect me to keep it in my +memory is all nonsense, for I have such a bad one that I often forget my +own name; but for all that repeat it to me, as I shall like to hear it, +for surely it will run as if it was in print." + +"Listen," said Don Quixote, "this is what it says: + +"DON QUIXOTE'S LETTER TO DULCINEA DEL TOBOSO + +"Sovereign and exalted Lady,--The pierced by the point of absence, the +wounded to the heart's core, sends thee, sweetest Dulcinea del Toboso, +the health that he himself enjoys not. If thy beauty despises me, if thy +worth is not for me, if thy scorn is my affliction, though I be +sufficiently long-suffering, hardly shall I endure this anxiety, which, +besides being oppressive, is protracted. My good squire Sancho will +relate to thee in full, fair ingrate, dear enemy, the condition to which +I am reduced on thy account: if it be thy pleasure to give me relief, I +am thine; if not, do as may be pleasing to thee; for by ending my life I +shall satisfy thy cruelty and my desire. + +"Thine till death, + +"The Knight of the Rueful Countenance." + +"By the life of my father," said Sancho, when he heard the letter, "it is +the loftiest thing I ever heard. Body of me! how your worship says +everything as you like in it! And how well you fit in 'The Knight of the +Rueful Countenance' into the signature. I declare your worship is indeed +the very devil, and there is nothing you don't know." + +"Everything is needed for the calling I follow," said Don Quixote. + +"Now then," said Sancho, "let your worship put the order for the three +ass-colts on the other side, and sign it very plainly, that they may +recognise it at first sight." + +"With all my heart," said Don Quixote, and as he had written it he read +it to this effect: + +"Mistress Niece,--By this first of ass-colts please pay to Sancho Panza, +my squire, three of the five I left at home in your charge: said three +ass-colts to be paid and delivered for the same number received here in +hand, which upon this and upon his receipt shall be duly paid. Done in +the heart of the Sierra Morena, the twenty-seventh of August of this +present year." + +"That will do," said Sancho; "now let your worship sign it." + +"There is no need to sign it," said Don Quixote, "but merely to put my +flourish, which is the same as a signature, and enough for three asses, +or even three hundred." + +"I can trust your worship," returned Sancho; "let me go and saddle +Rocinante, and be ready to give me your blessing, for I mean to go at +once without seeing the fooleries your worship is going to do; I'll say I +saw you do so many that she will not want any more." + +"At any rate, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "I should like--and there is +reason for it--I should like thee, I say, to see me stripped to the skin +and performing a dozen or two of insanities, which I can get done in less +than half an hour; for having seen them with thine own eyes, thou canst +then safely swear to the rest that thou wouldst add; and I promise thee +thou wilt not tell of as many as I mean to perform." + +"For the love of God, master mine," said Sancho, "let me not see your +worship stripped, for it will sorely grieve me, and I shall not be able +to keep from tears, and my head aches so with all I shed last night for +Dapple, that I am not fit to begin any fresh weeping; but if it is your +worship's pleasure that I should see some insanities, do them in your +clothes, short ones, and such as come readiest to hand; for I myself want +nothing of the sort, and, as I have said, it will be a saving of time for +my return, which will be with the news your worship desires and deserves. +If not, let the lady Dulcinea look to it; if she does not answer +reasonably, I swear as solemnly as I can that I will fetch a fair answer +out of her stomach with kicks and cuffs; for why should it be borne that +a knight-errant as famous as your worship should go mad without rhyme or +reason for a--? Her ladyship had best not drive me to say it, for by God +I will speak out and let off everything cheap, even if it doesn't sell: I +am pretty good at that! she little knows me; faith, if she knew me she'd +be in awe of me." + +"In faith, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "to all appearance thou art no +sounder in thy wits than I." + +"I am not so mad," answered Sancho, "but I am more peppery; but apart +from all this, what has your worship to eat until I come back? Will you +sally out on the road like Cardenio to force it from the shepherds?" + +"Let not that anxiety trouble thee," replied Don Quixote, "for even if I +had it I should not eat anything but the herbs and the fruits which this +meadow and these trees may yield me; the beauty of this business of mine +lies in not eating, and in performing other mortifications." + +"Do you know what I am afraid of?" said Sancho upon this; "that I shall +not be able to find my way back to this spot where I am leaving you, it +is such an out-of-the-way place." + +"Observe the landmarks well," said Don Quixote, "for I will try not to go +far from this neighbourhood, and I will even take care to mount the +highest of these rocks to see if I can discover thee returning; however, +not to miss me and lose thyself, the best plan will be to cut some +branches of the broom that is so abundant about here, and as thou goest +to lay them at intervals until thou hast come out upon the plain; these +will serve thee, after the fashion of the clue in the labyrinth of +Theseus, as marks and signs for finding me on thy return." + +"So I will," said Sancho Panza, and having cut some, he asked his +master's blessing, and not without many tears on both sides, took his +leave of him, and mounting Rocinante, of whom Don Quixote charged him +earnestly to have as much care as of his own person, he set out for the +plain, strewing at intervals the branches of broom as his master had +recommended him; and so he went his way, though Don Quixote still +entreated him to see him do were it only a couple of mad acts. He had not +gone a hundred paces, however, when he returned and said: + +"I must say, senor, your worship said quite right, that in order to be +able to swear without a weight on my conscience that I had seen you do +mad things, it would be well for me to see if it were only one; though in +your worship's remaining here I have seen a very great one." + +"Did I not tell thee so?" said Don Quixote. "Wait, Sancho, and I will do +them in the saying of a credo," and pulling off his breeches in all haste +he stripped himself to his skin and his shirt, and then, without more +ado, he cut a couple of gambados in the air, and a couple of somersaults, +heels over head, making such a display that, not to see it a second time, +Sancho wheeled Rocinante round, and felt easy, and satisfied in his mind +that he could swear he had left his master mad; and so we will leave him +to follow his road until his return, which was a quick one. + +Chapter XXVI. - +In which are continued the refinements wherewith Don Quixote played the +part of a lover in the Sierra Morena + +Returning to the proceedings of him of the Rueful Countenance when he +found himself alone, the history says that when Don Quixote had completed +the performance of the somersaults or capers, naked from the waist down +and clothed from the waist up, and saw that Sancho had gone off without +waiting to see any more crazy feats, he climbed up to the top of a high +rock, and there set himself to consider what he had several times before +considered without ever coming to any conclusion on the point, namely +whether it would be better and more to his purpose to imitate the +outrageous madness of Roland, or the melancholy madness of Amadis; and +communing with himself he said: + +"What wonder is it if Roland was so good a knight and so valiant as +everyone says he was, when, after all, he was enchanted, and nobody could +kill him save by thrusting a corking pin into the sole of his foot, and +he always wore shoes with seven iron soles? Though cunning devices did +not avail him against Bernardo del Carpio, who knew all about them, and +strangled him in his arms at Roncesvalles. But putting the question of +his valour aside, let us come to his losing his wits, for certain it is +that he did lose them in consequence of the proofs he discovered at the +fountain, and the intelligence the shepherd gave him of Angelica having +slept more than two siestas with Medoro, a little curly-headed Moor, and +page to Agramante. If he was persuaded that this was true, and that his +lady had wronged him, it is no wonder that he should have gone mad; but +I, how am I to imitate him in his madness, unless I can imitate him in +the cause of it? For my Dulcinea, I will venture to swear, never saw a +Moor in her life, as he is, in his proper costume, and she is this day as +the mother that bore her, and I should plainly be doing her a wrong if, +fancying anything else, I were to go mad with the same kind of madness as +Roland the Furious. On the other hand, I see that Amadis of Gaul, without +losing his senses and without doing anything mad, acquired as a lover as +much fame as the most famous; for, according to his history, on finding +himself rejected by his lady Oriana, who had ordered him not to appear in +her presence until it should be her pleasure, all he did was to retire to +the Pena Pobre in company with a hermit, and there he took his fill of +weeping until Heaven sent him relief in the midst of his great grief and +need. And if this be true, as it is, why should I now take the trouble to +strip stark naked, or do mischief to these trees which have done me no +harm, or why am I to disturb the clear waters of these brooks which will +give me to drink whenever I have a mind? Long live the memory of Amadis +and let him be imitated so far as is possible by Don Quixote of La +Mancha, of whom it will be said, as was said of the other, that if he did +not achieve great things, he died in attempting them; and if I am not +repulsed or rejected by my Dulcinea, it is enough for me, as I have said, +to be absent from her. And so, now to business; come to my memory ye +deeds of Amadis, and show me how I am to begin to imitate you. I know +already that what he chiefly did was to pray and commend himself to God; +but what am I to do for a rosary, for I have not got one?" + +And then it occurred to him how he might make one, and that was by +tearing a great strip off the tail of his shirt which hung down, and +making eleven knots on it, one bigger than the rest, and this served him +for a rosary all the time he was there, during which he repeated +countless ave-marias. But what distressed him greatly was not having +another hermit there to confess him and receive consolation from; and so +he solaced himself with pacing up and down the little meadow, and writing +and carving on the bark of the trees and on the fine sand a multitude of +verses all in harmony with his sadness, and some in praise of Dulcinea; +but, when he was found there afterwards, the only ones completely legible +that could be discovered were those that follow here: + +poem{ + +Ye on the mountain side that grow, + Ye green things all, trees, shrubs, and bushes, +Are ye aweary of the woe + That this poor aching bosom crushes? +If it disturb you, and I owe + Some reparation, it may be a +Defence for me to let you know +Don Quixote's tears are on the flow, + And all for distant Dulcinea + Del Toboso. + +The lealest lover time can show, + Doomed for a lady-love to languish, +Among these solitudes doth go, + A prey to every kind of anguish. +Why Love should like a spiteful foe + Thus use him, he hath no idea, +But hogsheads full--this doth he know-- +Don Quixote's tears are on the flow, + And all for distant Dulcinea + Del Toboso. + +Adventure-seeking doth he go + Up rugged heights, down rocky valleys, +But hill or dale, or high or low, + Mishap attendeth all his sallies: +Love still pursues him to and fro, + And plies his cruel scourge--ah me! a +Relentless fate, an endless woe; +Don Quixote's tears are on the flow, + And all for distant Dulcinea + Del Toboso. + +}poem + +The addition of "Del Toboso" to Dulcinea's name gave rise to no little +laughter among those who found the above lines, for they suspected Don +Quixote must have fancied that unless he added "del Toboso" when he +introduced the name of Dulcinea the verse would be unintelligible; which +was indeed the fact, as he himself afterwards admitted. He wrote many +more, but, as has been said, these three verses were all that could be +plainly and perfectly deciphered. In this way, and in sighing and calling +on the fauns and satyrs of the woods and the nymphs of the streams, and +Echo, moist and mournful, to answer, console, and hear him, as well as in +looking for herbs to sustain him, he passed his time until Sancho's +return; and had that been delayed three weeks, as it was three days, the +Knight of the Rueful Countenance would have worn such an altered +countenance that the mother that bore him would not have known him: and +here it will be well to leave him, wrapped up in sighs and verses, to +relate how Sancho Panza fared on his mission. + +As for him, coming out upon the high road, he made for El Toboso, and the +next day reached the inn where the mishap of the blanket had befallen +him. As soon as he recognised it he felt as if he were once more living +through the air, and he could not bring himself to enter it though it was +an hour when he might well have done so, for it was dinner-time, and he +longed to taste something hot as it had been all cold fare with him for +many days past. This craving drove him to draw near to the inn, still +undecided whether to go in or not, and as he was hesitating there came +out two persons who at once recognised him, and said one to the other: + +"Senor licentiate, is not he on the horse there Sancho Panza who, our +adventurer's housekeeper told us, went off with her master as esquire?" + +"So it is," said the licentiate, "and that is our friend Don Quixote's +horse;" and if they knew him so well it was because they were the curate +and the barber of his own village, the same who had carried out the +scrutiny and sentence upon the books; and as soon as they recognised +Sancho Panza and Rocinante, being anxious to hear of Don Quixote, they +approached, and calling him by his name the curate said, "Friend Sancho +Panza, where is your master?" + +Sancho recognised them at once, and determined to keep secret the place +and circumstances where and under which he had left his master, so he +replied that his master was engaged in a certain quarter on a certain +matter of great importance to him which he could not disclose for the +eyes in his head. + +"Nay, nay," said the barber, "if you don't tell us where he is, Sancho +Panza, we will suspect as we suspect already, that you have murdered and +robbed him, for here you are mounted on his horse; in fact, you must +produce the master of the hack, or else take the consequences." + +"There is no need of threats with me," said Sancho, "for I am not a man +to rob or murder anybody; let his own fate, or God who made him, kill +each one; my master is engaged very much to his taste doing penance in +the midst of these mountains;" and then, offhand and without stopping, he +told them how he had left him, what adventures had befallen him, and how +he was carrying a letter to the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, the daughter of +Lorenzo Corchuelo, with whom he was over head and ears in love. They were +both amazed at what Sancho Panza told them; for though they were aware of +Don Quixote's madness and the nature of it, each time they heard of it +they were filled with fresh wonder. They then asked Sancho Panza to show +them the letter he was carrying to the lady Dulcinea del Toboso. He said +it was written in a note-book, and that his master's directions were that +he should have it copied on paper at the first village he came to. On +this the curate said if he showed it to him, he himself would make a fair +copy of it. Sancho put his hand into his bosom in search of the note-book +but could not find it, nor, if he had been searching until now, could he +have found it, for Don Quixote had kept it, and had never given it to +him, nor had he himself thought of asking for it. When Sancho discovered +he could not find the book his face grew deadly pale, and in great haste +he again felt his body all over, and seeing plainly it was not to be +found, without more ado he seized his beard with both hands and plucked +away half of it, and then, as quick as he could and without stopping, +gave himself half a dozen cuffs on the face and nose till they were +bathed in blood. + +Seeing this, the curate and the barber asked him what had happened him +that he gave himself such rough treatment. + +"What should happen me?" replied Sancho, "but to have lost from one hand +to the other, in a moment, three ass-colts, each of them like a castle?" + +"How is that?" said the barber. + +"I have lost the note-book," said Sancho, "that contained the letter to +Dulcinea, and an order signed by my master in which he directed his niece +to give me three ass-colts out of four or five he had at home;" and he +then told them about the loss of Dapple. + +The curate consoled him, telling him that when his master was found he +would get him to renew the order, and make a fresh draft on paper, as was +usual and customary; for those made in notebooks were never accepted or +honoured. + +Sancho comforted himself with this, and said if that were so the loss of +Dulcinea's letter did not trouble him much, for he had it almost by +heart, and it could be taken down from him wherever and whenever they +liked. + +"Repeat it then, Sancho," said the barber, "and we will write it down +afterwards." + +Sancho Panza stopped to scratch his head to bring back the letter to his +memory, and balanced himself now on one foot, now the other, one moment +staring at the ground, the next at the sky, and after having half gnawed +off the end of a finger and kept them in suspense waiting for him to +begin, he said, after a long pause, "By God, senor licentiate, devil a +thing can I recollect of the letter; but it said at the beginning, +'Exalted and scrubbing Lady.'" + +"It cannot have said 'scrubbing,'" said the barber, "but 'superhuman' or +'sovereign.'" + +"That is it," said Sancho; "then, as well as I remember, it went on, 'The +wounded, and wanting of sleep, and the pierced, kisses your worship's +hands, ungrateful and very unrecognised fair one; and it said something +or other about health and sickness that he was sending her; and from that +it went tailing off until it ended with 'Yours till death, the Knight of +the Rueful Countenance." + +It gave them no little amusement, both of them, to see what a good memory +Sancho had, and they complimented him greatly upon it, and begged him to +repeat the letter a couple of times more, so that they too might get it +by heart to write it out by-and-by. Sancho repeated it three times, and +as he did, uttered three thousand more absurdities; then he told them +more about his master but he never said a word about the blanketing that +had befallen himself in that inn, into which he refused to enter. He told +them, moreover, how his lord, if he brought him a favourable answer from +the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, was to put himself in the way of +endeavouring to become an emperor, or at least a monarch; for it had been +so settled between them, and with his personal worth and the might of his +arm it was an easy matter to come to be one: and how on becoming one his +lord was to make a marriage for him (for he would be a widower by that +time, as a matter of course) and was to give him as a wife one of the +damsels of the empress, the heiress of some rich and grand state on the +mainland, having nothing to do with islands of any sort, for he did not +care for them now. All this Sancho delivered with so much +composure--wiping his nose from time to time--and with so little +common-sense that his two hearers were again filled with wonder at the +force of Don Quixote's madness that could run away with this poor man's +reason. They did not care to take the trouble of disabusing him of his +error, as they considered that since it did not in any way hurt his +conscience it would be better to leave him in it, and they would have all +the more amusement in listening to his simplicities; and so they bade him +pray to God for his lord's health, as it was a very likely and a very +feasible thing for him in course of time to come to be an emperor, as he +said, or at least an archbishop or some other dignitary of equal rank. + +To which Sancho made answer, "If fortune, sirs, should bring things about +in such a way that my master should have a mind, instead of being an +emperor, to be an archbishop, I should like to know what +archbishops-errant commonly give their squires?" + +"They commonly give them," said the curate, some simple benefice or cure, +or some place as sacristan which brings them a good fixed income, not +counting the altar fees, which may be reckoned at as much more." + +"But for that," said Sancho, "the squire must be unmarried, and must +know, at any rate, how to help at mass, and if that be so, woe is me, for +I am married already and I don't know the first letter of the A B C. What +will become of me if my master takes a fancy to be an archbishop and not +an emperor, as is usual and customary with knights-errant?" + +"Be not uneasy, friend Sancho," said the barber, "for we will entreat +your master, and advise him, even urging it upon him as a case of +conscience, to become an emperor and not an archbishop, because it will +be easier for him as he is more valiant than lettered." + +"So I have thought," said Sancho; "though I can tell you he is fit for +anything: what I mean to do for my part is to pray to our Lord to place +him where it may be best for him, and where he may be able to bestow most +favours upon me." + +"You speak like a man of sense," said the curate, "and you will be acting +like a good Christian; but what must now be done is to take steps to coax +your master out of that useless penance you say he is performing; and we +had best turn into this inn to consider what plan to adopt, and also to +dine, for it is now time." + +Sancho said they might go in, but that he would wait there outside, and +that he would tell them afterwards the reason why he was unwilling, and +why it did not suit him to enter it; but he begged them to bring him out +something to eat, and to let it be hot, and also to bring barley for +Rocinante. They left him and went in, and presently the barber brought +him out something to eat. By-and-by, after they had between them +carefully thought over what they should do to carry out their object, the +curate hit upon an idea very well adapted to humour Don Quixote, and +effect their purpose; and his notion, which he explained to the barber, +was that he himself should assume the disguise of a wandering damsel, +while the other should try as best he could to pass for a squire, and +that they should thus proceed to where Don Quixote was, and he, +pretending to be an aggrieved and distressed damsel, should ask a favour +of him, which as a valiant knight-errant he could not refuse to grant; +and the favour he meant to ask him was that he should accompany her +whither she would conduct him, in order to redress a wrong which a wicked +knight had done her, while at the same time she should entreat him not to +require her to remove her mask, nor ask her any question touching her +circumstances until he had righted her with the wicked knight. And he had +no doubt that Don Quixote would comply with any request made in these +terms, and that in this way they might remove him and take him to his own +village, where they would endeavour to find out if his extraordinary +madness admitted of any kind of remedy. + +Chapter XXVII. - +Of how the curate and the barber proceeded with their scheme; together +with other matters worthy of record in this great history + +The curate's plan did not seem a bad one to the barber, but on the +contrary so good that they immediately set about putting it in execution. +They begged a petticoat and hood of the landlady, leaving her in pledge a +new cassock of the curate's; and the barber made a beard out of a +grey-brown or red ox-tail in which the landlord used to stick his comb. +The landlady asked them what they wanted these things for, and the curate +told her in a few words about the madness of Don Quixote, and how this +disguise was intended to get him away from the mountain where he then +was. The landlord and landlady immediately came to the conclusion that +the madman was their guest, the balsam man and master of the blanketed +squire, and they told the curate all that had passed between him and +them, not omitting what Sancho had been so silent about. Finally the +landlady dressed up the curate in a style that left nothing to be +desired; she put on him a cloth petticoat with black velvet stripes a +palm broad, all slashed, and a bodice of green velvet set off by a +binding of white satin, which as well as the petticoat must have been +made in the time of king Wamba. The curate would not let them hood him, +but put on his head a little quilted linen cap which he used for a +night-cap, and bound his forehead with a strip of black silk, while with +another he made a mask with which he concealed his beard and face very +well. He then put on his hat, which was broad enough to serve him for an +umbrella, and enveloping himself in his cloak seated himself +woman-fashion on his mule, while the barber mounted his with a beard down +to the waist of mingled red and white, for it was, as has been said, the +tail of a clay-red ox. + +They took leave of all, and of the good Maritornes, who, sinner as she +was, promised to pray a rosary of prayers that God might grant them +success in such an arduous and Christian undertaking as that they had in +hand. But hardly had he sallied forth from the inn when it struck the +curate that he was doing wrong in rigging himself out in that fashion, as +it was an indecorous thing for a priest to dress himself that way even +though much might depend upon it; and saying so to the barber he begged +him to change dresses, as it was fitter he should be the distressed +damsel, while he himself would play the squire's part, which would be +less derogatory to his dignity; otherwise he was resolved to have nothing +more to do with the matter, and let the devil take Don Quixote. Just at +this moment Sancho came up, and on seeing the pair in such a costume he +was unable to restrain his laughter; the barber, however, agreed to do as +the curate wished, and, altering their plan, the curate went on to +instruct him how to play his part and what to say to Don Quixote to +induce and compel him to come with them and give up his fancy for the +place he had chosen for his idle penance. The barber told him he could +manage it properly without any instruction, and as he did not care to +dress himself up until they were near where Don Quixote was, he folded up +the garments, and the curate adjusted his beard, and they set out under +the guidance of Sancho Panza, who went along telling them of the +encounter with the madman they met in the Sierra, saying nothing, +however, about the finding of the valise and its contents; for with all +his simplicity the lad was a trifle covetous. + +The next day they reached the place where Sancho had laid the +broom-branches as marks to direct him to where he had left his master, +and recognising it he told them that here was the entrance, and that they +would do well to dress themselves, if that was required to deliver his +master; for they had already told him that going in this guise and +dressing in this way were of the highest importance in order to rescue +his master from the pernicious life he had adopted; and they charged him +strictly not to tell his master who they were, or that he knew them, and +should he ask, as ask he would, if he had given the letter to Dulcinea, +to say that he had, and that, as she did not know how to read, she had +given an answer by word of mouth, saying that she commanded him, on pain +of her displeasure, to come and see her at once; and it was a very +important matter for himself, because in this way and with what they +meant to say to him they felt sure of bringing him back to a better mode +of life and inducing him to take immediate steps to become an emperor or +monarch, for there was no fear of his becoming an archbishop. All this +Sancho listened to and fixed it well in his memory, and thanked them +heartily for intending to recommend his master to be an emperor instead +of an archbishop, for he felt sure that in the way of bestowing rewards +on their squires emperors could do more than archbishops-errant. He said, +too, that it would be as well for him to go on before them to find him, +and give him his lady's answer; for that perhaps might be enough to bring +him away from the place without putting them to all this trouble. They +approved of what Sancho proposed, and resolved to wait for him until he +brought back word of having found his master. + +Sancho pushed on into the glens of the Sierra, leaving them in one +through which there flowed a little gentle rivulet, and where the rocks +and trees afforded a cool and grateful shade. It was an August day with +all the heat of one, and the heat in those parts is intense, and the hour +was three in the afternoon, all which made the spot the more inviting and +tempted them to wait there for Sancho's return, which they did. They were +reposing, then, in the shade, when a voice unaccompanied by the notes of +any instrument, but sweet and pleasing in its tone, reached their ears, +at which they were not a little astonished, as the place did not seem to +them likely quarters for one who sang so well; for though it is often +said that shepherds of rare voice are to be found in the woods and +fields, this is rather a flight of the poet's fancy than the truth. And +still more surprised were they when they perceived that what they heard +sung were the verses not of rustic shepherds, but of the polished wits of +the city; and so it proved, for the verses they heard were these: + +poem{ + +What makes my quest of happiness seem vain? + Disdain. +What bids me to abandon hope of ease? + Jealousies. +What holds my heart in anguish of suspense? + Absence. + If that be so, then for my grief + Where shall I turn to seek relief, + When hope on every side lies slain + By Absence, Jealousies, Disdain? + +What the prime cause of all my woe doth prove? + Love. +What at my glory ever looks askance? + Chance. +Whence is permission to afflict me given? + Heaven. + If that be so, I but await + The stroke of a resistless fate, + Since, working for my woe, these three, + Love, Chance and Heaven, in league I see. + +What must I do to find a remedy? + Die. +What is the lure for love when coy and strange? + Change. +What, if all fail, will cure the heart of sadness? + Madness. + If that be so, it is but folly + To seek a cure for melancholy: + Ask where it lies; the answer saith + In Change, in Madness, or in Death. + +}poem + +The hour, the summer season, the solitary place, the voice and skill of +the singer, all contributed to the wonder and delight of the two +listeners, who remained still waiting to hear something more; finding, +however, that the silence continued some little time, they resolved to go +in search of the musician who sang with so fine a voice; but just as they +were about to do so they were checked by the same voice, which once more +fell upon their ears, singing this + +poem{ + +SONNET + +When heavenward, holy Friendship, thou didst go + Soaring to seek thy home beyond the sky, + And take thy seat among the saints on high, +It was thy will to leave on earth below +Thy semblance, and upon it to bestow + Thy veil, wherewith at times hypocrisy, + Parading in thy shape, deceives the eye, +And makes its vileness bright as virtue show. +Friendship, return to us, or force the cheat + That wears it now, thy livery to restore, + By aid whereof sincerity is slain. +If thou wilt not unmask thy counterfeit, + This earth will be the prey of strife once more, + As when primaeval discord held its reign. + +}poem + +The song ended with a deep sigh, and again the listeners remained waiting +attentively for the singer to resume; but perceiving that the music had +now turned to sobs and heart-rending moans they determined to find out +who the unhappy being could be whose voice was as rare as his sighs were +piteous, and they had not proceeded far when on turning the corner of a +rock they discovered a man of the same aspect and appearance as Sancho +had described to them when he told them the story of Cardenio. He, +showing no astonishment when he saw them, stood still with his head bent +down upon his breast like one in deep thought, without raising his eyes +to look at them after the first glance when they suddenly came upon him. +The curate, who was aware of his misfortune and recognised him by the +description, being a man of good address, approached him and in a few +sensible words entreated and urged him to quit a life of such misery, +lest he should end it there, which would be the greatest of all +misfortunes. Cardenio was then in his right mind, free from any attack of +that madness which so frequently carried him away, and seeing them +dressed in a fashion so unusual among the frequenters of those wilds, +could not help showing some surprise, especially when he heard them speak +of his case as if it were a well-known matter (for the curate's words +gave him to understand as much) so he replied to them thus: + +"I see plainly, sirs, whoever you may be, that Heaven, whose care it is +to succour the good, and even the wicked very often, here, in this remote +spot, cut off from human intercourse, sends me, though I deserve it not, +those who seek to draw me away from this to some better retreat, showing +me by many and forcible arguments how unreasonably I act in leading the +life I do; but as they know, that if I escape from this evil I shall fall +into another still greater, perhaps they will set me down as a +weak-minded man, or, what is worse, one devoid of reason; nor would it be +any wonder, for I myself can perceive that the effect of the recollection +of my misfortunes is so great and works so powerfully to my ruin, that in +spite of myself I become at times like a stone, without feeling or +consciousness; and I come to feel the truth of it when they tell me and +show me proofs of the things I have done when the terrible fit +overmasters me; and all I can do is bewail my lot in vain, and idly curse +my destiny, and plead for my madness by telling how it was caused, to any +that care to hear it; for no reasonable beings on learning the cause will +wonder at the effects; and if they cannot help me at least they will not +blame me, and the repugnance they feel at my wild ways will turn into +pity for my woes. If it be, sirs, that you are here with the same design +as others have come wah, before you proceed with your wise arguments, I +entreat you to hear the story of my countless misfortunes, for perhaps +when you have heard it you will spare yourselves the trouble you would +take in offering consolation to grief that is beyond the reach of it." + +As they, both of them, desired nothing more than to hear from his own +lips the cause of his suffering, they entreated him to tell it, promising +not to do anything for his relief or comfort that he did not wish; and +thereupon the unhappy gentleman began his sad story in nearly the same +words and manner in which he had related it to Don Quixote and the +goatherd a few days before, when, through Master Elisabad, and Don +Quixote's scrupulous observance of what was due to chivalry, the tale was +left unfinished, as this history has already recorded; but now +fortunately the mad fit kept off, allowed him to tell it to the end; and +so, coming to the incident of the note which Don Fernando had found in +the volume of "Amadis of Gaul," Cardenio said that he remembered it +perfectly and that it was in these words: + +"Luscinda to Cardenio. + +"Every day I discover merits in you that oblige and compel me to hold you +in higher estimation; so if you desire to relieve me of this obligation +without cost to my honour, you may easily do so. I have a father who +knows you and loves me dearly, who without putting any constraint on my +inclination will grant what will be reasonable for you to have, if it be +that you value me as you say and as I believe you do." + +"By this letter I was induced, as I told you, to demand Luscinda for my +wife, and it was through it that Luscinda came to be regarded by Don +Fernando as one of the most discreet and prudent women of the day, and +this letter it was that suggested his design of ruining me before mine +could be carried into effect. I told Don Fernando that all Luscinda's +father was waiting for was that mine should ask her of him, which I did +not dare to suggest to him, fearing that he would not consent to do so; +not because he did not know perfectly well the rank, goodness, virtue, +and beauty of Luscinda, and that she had qualities that would do honour +to any family in Spain, but because I was aware that he did not wish me +to marry so soon, before seeing what the Duke Ricardo would do for me. In +short, I told him I did not venture to mention it to my father, as well +on account of that difficulty, as of many others that discouraged me +though I knew not well what they were, only that it seemed to me that +what I desired was never to come to pass. To all this Don Fernando +answered that he would take it upon himself to speak to my father, and +persuade him to speak to Luscinda's father. O, ambitious Marius! O, cruel +Catiline! O, wicked Sylla! O, perfidious Ganelon! O, treacherous Vellido! +O, vindictive Julian! O, covetous Judas! Traitor, cruel, vindictive, and +perfidious, wherein had this poor wretch failed in his fidelity, who with +such frankness showed thee the secrets and the joys of his heart? What +offence did I commit? What words did I utter, or what counsels did I give +that had not the furtherance of thy honour and welfare for their aim? +But, woe is me, wherefore do I complain? for sure it is that when +misfortunes spring from the stars, descending from on high they fall upon +us with such fury and violence that no power on earth can check their +course nor human device stay their coming. Who could have thought that +Don Fernando, a highborn gentleman, intelligent, bound to me by gratitude +for my services, one that could win the object of his love wherever he +might set his affections, could have become so obdurate, as they say, as +to rob me of my one ewe lamb that was not even yet in my possession? But +laying aside these useless and unavailing reflections, let us take up the +broken thread of my unhappy story. + +"To proceed, then: Don Fernando finding my presence an obstacle to the +execution of his treacherous and wicked design, resolved to send me to +his elder brother under the pretext of asking money from him to pay for +six horses which, purposely, and with the sole object of sending me away +that he might the better carry out his infernal scheme, he had purchased +the very day he offered to speak to my father, and the price of which he +now desired me to fetch. Could I have anticipated this treachery? Could I +by any chance have suspected it? Nay; so far from that, I offered with +the greatest pleasure to go at once, in my satisfaction at the good +bargain that had been made. That night I spoke with Luscinda, and told +her what had been agreed upon with Don Fernando, and how I had strong +hopes of our fair and reasonable wishes being realised. She, as +unsuspicious as I was of the treachery of Don Fernando, bade me try to +return speedily, as she believed the fulfilment of our desires would be +delayed only so long as my father put off speaking to hers. I know not +why it was that on saying this to me her eyes filled with tears, and +there came a lump in her throat that prevented her from uttering a word +of many more that it seemed to me she was striving to say to me. I was +astonished at this unusual turn, which I never before observed in her. +for we always conversed, whenever good fortune and my ingenuity gave us +the chance, with the greatest gaiety and cheerfulness, mingling tears, +sighs, jealousies, doubts, or fears with our words; it was all on my part +a eulogy of my good fortune that Heaven should have given her to me for +my mistress; I glorified her beauty, I extolled her worth and her +understanding; and she paid me back by praising in me what in her love +for me she thought worthy of praise; and besides we had a hundred +thousand trifles and doings of our neighbours and acquaintances to talk +about, and the utmost extent of my boldness was to take, almost by force, +one of her fair white hands and carry it to my lips, as well as the +closeness of the low grating that separated us allowed me. But the night +before the unhappy day of my departure she wept, she moaned, she sighed, +and she withdrew leaving me filled with perplexity and amazement, +overwhelmed at the sight of such strange and affecting signs of grief and +sorrow in Luscinda; but not to dash my hopes I ascribed it all to the +depth of her love for me and the pain that separation gives those who +love tenderly. At last I took my departure, sad and dejected, my heart +filled with fancies and suspicions, but not knowing well what it was I +suspected or fancied; plain omens pointing to the sad event and +misfortune that was awaiting me. + +"I reached the place whither I had been sent, gave the letter to Don +Fernando's brother, and was kindly received but not promptly dismissed, +for he desired me to wait, very much against my will, eight days in some +place where the duke his father was not likely to see me, as his brother +wrote that the money was to be sent without his knowledge; all of which +was a scheme of the treacherous Don Fernando, for his brother had no want +of money to enable him to despatch me at once. + +"The command was one that exposed me to the temptation of disobeying it, +as it seemed to me impossible to endure life for so many days separated +from Luscinda, especially after leaving her in the sorrowful mood I have +described to you; nevertheless as a dutiful servant I obeyed, though I +felt it would be at the cost of my well-being. But four days later there +came a man in quest of me with a letter which he gave me, and which by +the address I perceived to be from Luscinda, as the writing was hers. I +opened it with fear and trepidation, persuaded that it must be something +serious that had impelled her to write to me when at a distance, as she +seldom did so when I was near. Before reading it I asked the man who it +was that had given it to him, and how long he had been upon the road; he +told me that as he happened to be passing through one of the streets of +the city at the hour of noon, a very beautiful lady called to him from a +window, and with tears in her eyes said to him hurriedly, 'Brother, if +you are, as you seem to be, a Christian, for the love of God I entreat +you to have this letter despatched without a moment's delay to the place +and person named in the address, all which is well known, and by this you +will render a great service to our Lord; and that you may be at no +inconvenience in doing so take what is in this handkerchief;' and said +he, 'with this she threw me a handkerchief out of the window in which +were tied up a hundred reals and this gold ring which I bring here +together with the letter I have given you. And then without waiting for +any answer she left the window, though not before she saw me take the +letter and the handkerchief, and I had by signs let her know that I would +do as she bade me; and so, seeing myself so well paid for the trouble I +would have in bringing it to you, and knowing by the address that it was +to you it was sent (for, senor, I know you very well), and also unable to +resist that beautiful lady's tears, I resolved to trust no one else, but +to come myself and give it to you, and in sixteen hours from the time +when it was given me I have made the journey, which, as you know, is +eighteen leagues.' + +"All the while the good-natured improvised courier was telling me this, I +hung upon his words, my legs trembling under me so that I could scarcely +stand. However, I opened the letter and read these words: + +"'The promise Don Fernando gave you to urge your father to speak to mine, +he has fulfilled much more to his own satisfaction than to your +advantage. I have to tell you, senor, that he has demanded me for a wife, +and my father, led away by what he considers Don Fernando's superiority +over you, has favoured his suit so cordially, that in two days hence the +betrothal is to take place with such secrecy and so privately that the +only witnesses are to be the Heavens above and a few of the household. +Picture to yourself the state I am in; judge if it be urgent for you to +come; the issue of the affair will show you whether I love you or not. +God grant this may come to your hand before mine shall be forced to link +itself with his who keeps so ill the faith that he has pledged.' + +"Such, in brief, were the words of the letter, words that made me set out +at once without waiting any longer for reply or money; for I now saw +clearly that it was not the purchase of horses but of his own pleasure +that had made Don Fernando send me to his brother. The exasperation I +felt against Don Fernando, joined with the fear of losing the prize I had +won by so many years of love and devotion, lent me wings; so that almost +flying I reached home the same day, by the hour which served for speaking +with Luscinda. I arrived unobserved, and left the mule on which I had +come at the house of the worthy man who had brought me the letter, and +fortune was pleased to be for once so kind that I found Luscinda at the +grating that was the witness of our loves. She recognised me at once, and +I her, but not as she ought to have recognised me, or I her. But who is +there in the world that can boast of having fathomed or understood the +wavering mind and unstable nature of a woman? Of a truth no one. To +proceed: as soon as Luscinda saw me she said, 'Cardenio, I am in my +bridal dress, and the treacherous Don Fernando and my covetous father are +waiting for me in the hall with the other witnesses, who shall be the +witnesses of my death before they witness my betrothal. Be not +distressed, my friend, but contrive to be present at this sacrifice, and +if that cannot be prevented by my words, I have a dagger concealed which +will prevent more deliberate violence, putting an end to my life and +giving thee a first proof of the love I have borne and bear thee.' I +replied to her distractedly and hastily, in fear lest I should not have +time to reply, 'May thy words be verified by thy deeds, lady; and if thou +hast a dagger to save thy honour, I have a sword to defend thee or kill +myself if fortune be against us.' + +"I think she could not have heard all these words, for I perceived that +they called her away in haste, as the bridegroom was waiting. Now the +night of my sorrow set in, the sun of my happiness went down, I felt my +eyes bereft of sight, my mind of reason. I could not enter the house, nor +was I capable of any movement; but reflecting how important it was that I +should be present at what might take place on the occasion, I nerved +myself as best I could and went in, for I well knew all the entrances and +outlets; and besides, with the confusion that in secret pervaded the +house no one took notice of me, so, without being seen, I found an +opportunity of placing myself in the recess formed by a window of the +hall itself, and concealed by the ends and borders of two tapestries, +from between which I could, without being seen, see all that took place +in the room. Who could describe the agitation of heart I suffered as I +stood there--the thoughts that came to me--the reflections that passed +through my mind? They were such as cannot be, nor were it well they +should be, told. Suffice it to say that the bridegroom entered the hall +in his usual dress, without ornament of any kind; as groomsman he had +with him a cousin of Luscinda's and except the servants of the house +there was no one else in the chamber. Soon afterwards Luscinda came out +from an antechamber, attended by her mother and two of her damsels, +arrayed and adorned as became her rank and beauty, and in full festival +and ceremonial attire. My anxiety and distraction did not allow me to +observe or notice particularly what she wore; I could only perceive the +colours, which were crimson and white, and the glitter of the gems and +jewels on her head dress and apparel, surpassed by the rare beauty of her +lovely auburn hair that vying with the precious stones and the light of +the four torches that stood in the hall shone with a brighter gleam than +all. Oh memory, mortal foe of my peace! why bring before me now the +incomparable beauty of that adored enemy of mine? Were it not better, +cruel memory, to remind me and recall what she then did, that stirred by +a wrong so glaring I may seek, if not vengeance now, at least to rid +myself of life? Be not weary, sirs, of listening to these digressions; my +sorrow is not one of those that can or should be told tersely and +briefly, for to me each incident seems to call for many words." + +To this the curate replied that not only were they not weary of listening +to him, but that the details he mentioned interested them greatly, being +of a kind by no means to be omitted and deserving of the same attention +as the main story. + +"To proceed, then," continued Cardenio: "all being assembled in the hall, +the priest of the parish came in and as he took the pair by the hand to +perform the requisite ceremony, at the words, 'Will you, Senora Luscinda, +take Senor Don Fernando, here present, for your lawful husband, as the +holy Mother Church ordains?' I thrust my head and neck out from between +the tapestries, and with eager ears and throbbing heart set myself to +listen to Luscinda's answer, awaiting in her reply the sentence of death +or the grant of life. Oh, that I had but dared at that moment to rush +forward crying aloud, 'Luscinda, Luscinda! have a care what thou dost; +remember what thou owest me; bethink thee thou art mine and canst not be +another's; reflect that thy utterance of "Yes" and the end of my life +will come at the same instant. O, treacherous Don Fernando! robber of my +glory, death of my life! What seekest thou? Remember that thou canst not +as a Christian attain the object of thy wishes, for Luscinda is my bride, +and I am her husband!' Fool that I am! now that I am far away, and out of +danger, I say I should have done what I did not do: now that I have +allowed my precious treasure to be robbed from me, I curse the robber, on +whom I might have taken vengeance had I as much heart for it as I have +for bewailing my fate; in short, as I was then a coward and a fool, +little wonder is it if I am now dying shame-stricken, remorseful, and +mad. + +"The priest stood waiting for the answer of Luscinda, who for a long time +withheld it; and just as I thought she was taking out the dagger to save +her honour, or struggling for words to make some declaration of the truth +on my behalf, I heard her say in a faint and feeble voice, 'I will:' Don +Fernando said the same, and giving her the ring they stood linked by a +knot that could never be loosed. The bridegroom then approached to +embrace his bride; and she, pressing her hand upon her heart, fell +fainting in her mother's arms. It only remains now for me to tell you the +state I was in when in that consent that I heard I saw all my hopes +mocked, the words and promises of Luscinda proved falsehoods, and the +recovery of the prize I had that instant lost rendered impossible for +ever. I stood stupefied, wholly abandoned, it seemed, by Heaven, declared +the enemy of the earth that bore me, the air refusing me breath for my +sighs, the water moisture for my tears; it was only the fire that +gathered strength so that my whole frame glowed with rage and jealousy. +They were all thrown into confusion by Luscinda's fainting, and as her +mother was unlacing her to give her air a sealed paper was discovered in +her bosom which Don Fernando seized at once and began to read by the +light of one of the torches. As soon as he had read it he seated himself +in a chair, leaning his cheek on his hand in the attitude of one deep in +thought, without taking any part in the efforts that were being made to +recover his bride from her fainting fit. + +"Seeing all the household in confusion, I ventured to come out regardless +whether I were seen or not, and determined, if I were, to do some +frenzied deed that would prove to all the world the righteous indignation +of my breast in the punishment of the treacherous Don Fernando, and even +in that of the fickle fainting traitress. But my fate, doubtless +reserving me for greater sorrows, if such there be, so ordered it that +just then I had enough and to spare of that reason which has since been +wanting to me; and so, without seeking to take vengeance on my greatest +enemies (which might have been easily taken, as all thought of me was so +far from their minds), I resolved to take it upon myself, and on myself +to inflict the pain they deserved, perhaps with even greater severity +than I should have dealt out to them had I then slain them; for sudden +pain is soon over, but that which is protracted by tortures is ever +slaying without ending life. In a word, I quitted the house and reached +that of the man with whom I had left my mule; I made him saddle it for +me, mounted without bidding him farewell, and rode out of the city, like +another Lot, not daring to turn my head to look back upon it; and when I +found myself alone in the open country, screened by the darkness of the +night, and tempted by the stillness to give vent to my grief without +apprehension or fear of being heard or seen, then I broke silence and +lifted up my voice in maledictions upon Luscinda and Don Fernando, as if +I could thus avenge the wrong they had done me. I called her cruel, +ungrateful, false, thankless, but above all covetous, since the wealth of +my enemy had blinded the eyes of her affection, and turned it from me to +transfer it to one to whom fortune had been more generous and liberal. +And yet, in the midst of this outburst of execration and upbraiding, I +found excuses for her, saying it was no wonder that a young girl in the +seclusion of her parents' house, trained and schooled to obey them +always, should have been ready to yield to their wishes when they offered +her for a husband a gentleman of such distinction, wealth, and noble +birth, that if she had refused to accept him she would have been thought +out of her senses, or to have set her affection elsewhere, a suspicion +injurious to her fair name and fame. But then again, I said, had she +declared I was her husband, they would have seen that in choosing me she +had not chosen so ill but that they might excuse her, for before Don +Fernando had made his offer, they themselves could not have desired, if +their desires had been ruled by reason, a more eligible husband for their +daughter than I was; and she, before taking the last fatal step of giving +her hand, might easily have said that I had already given her mine, for I +should have come forward to support any assertion of hers to that effect. +In short, I came to the conclusion that feeble love, little reflection, +great ambition, and a craving for rank, had made her forget the words +with which she had deceived me, encouraged and supported by my firm hopes +and honourable passion. + +"Thus soliloquising and agitated, I journeyed onward for the remainder of +the night, and by daybreak I reached one of the passes of these +mountains, among which I wandered for three days more without taking any +path or road, until I came to some meadows lying on I know not which side +of the mountains, and there I inquired of some herdsmen in what direction +the most rugged part of the range lay. They told me that it was in this +quarter, and I at once directed my course hither, intending to end my +life here; but as I was making my way among these crags, my mule dropped +dead through fatigue and hunger, or, as I think more likely, in order to +have done with such a worthless burden as it bore in me. I was left on +foot, worn out, famishing, without anyone to help me or any thought of +seeking help: and so thus I lay stretched on the ground, how long I know +not, after which I rose up free from hunger, and found beside me some +goatherds, who no doubt were the persons who had relieved me in my need, +for they told me how they had found me, and how I had been uttering +ravings that showed plainly I had lost my reason; and since then I am +conscious that I am not always in full possession of it, but at times so +deranged and crazed that I do a thousand mad things, tearing my clothes, +crying aloud in these solitudes, cursing my fate, and idly calling on the +dear name of her who is my enemy, and only seeking to end my life in +lamentation; and when I recover my senses I find myself so exhausted and +weary that I can scarcely move. Most commonly my dwelling is the hollow +of a cork tree large enough to shelter this miserable body; the herdsmen +and goatherds who frequent these mountains, moved by compassion, furnish +me with food, leaving it by the wayside or on the rocks, where they think +I may perhaps pass and find it; and so, even though I may be then out of +my senses, the wants of nature teach me what is required to sustain me, +and make me crave it and eager to take it. At other times, so they tell +me when they find me in a rational mood, I sally out upon the road, and +though they would gladly give it me, I snatch food by force from the +shepherds bringing it from the village to their huts. Thus do pass the +wretched life that remains to me, until it be Heaven's will to bring it +to a close, or so to order my memory that I no longer recollect the +beauty and treachery of Luscinda, or the wrong done me by Don Fernando; +for if it will do this without depriving me of life, I will turn my +thoughts into some better channel; if not, I can only implore it to have +full mercy on my soul, for in myself I feel no power or strength to +release my body from this strait in which I have of my own accord chosen +to place it. + +"Such, sirs, is the dismal story of my misfortune: say if it be one that +can be told with less emotion than you have seen in me; and do not +trouble yourselves with urging or pressing upon me what reason suggests +as likely to serve for my relief, for it will avail me as much as the +medicine prescribed by a wise physician avails the sick man who will not +take it. I have no wish for health without Luscinda; and since it is her +pleasure to be another's, when she is or should be mine, let it be mine +to be a prey to misery when I might have enjoyed happiness. She by her +fickleness strove to make my ruin irretrievable; I will strive to gratify +her wishes by seeking destruction; and it will show generations to come +that I alone was deprived of that of which all others in misfortune have +a superabundance, for to them the impossibility of being consoled is +itself a consolation, while to me it is the cause of greater sorrows and +sufferings, for I think that even in death there will not be an end of +them." + +Here Cardenio brought to a close his long discourse and story, as full of +misfortune as it was of love; but just as the curate was going to address +some words of comfort to him, he was stopped by a voice that reached his +ear, saying in melancholy tones what will be told in the Fourth Part of +this narrative; for at this point the sage and sagacious historian, Cide +Hamete Benengeli, brought the Third to a conclusion. + +Chapter XXVIII. - +Which treats of the strange and delightful adventure that befell the +curate and the barber in the same Sierra + +Happy and fortunate were the times when that most daring knight Don +Quixote of La Mancha was sent into the world; for by reason of his having +formed a resolution so honourable as that of seeking to revive and +restore to the world the long-lost and almost defunct order of +knight-errantry, we now enjoy in this age of ours, so poor in light +entertainment, not only the charm of his veracious history, but also of +the tales and episodes contained in it which are, in a measure, no less +pleasing, ingenious, and truthful, than the history itself; which, +resuming its thread, carded, spun, and wound, relates that just as the +curate was going to offer consolation to Cardenio, he was interrupted by +a voice that fell upon his ear saying in plaintive tones: + +"O God! is it possible I have found a place that may serve as a secret +grave for the weary load of this body that I support so unwillingly? If +the solitude these mountains promise deceives me not, it is so; ah! woe +is me! how much more grateful to my mind will be the society of these +rocks and brakes that permit me to complain of my misfortune to Heaven, +than that of any human being, for there is none on earth to look to for +counsel in doubt, comfort in sorrow, or relief in distress!" + +All this was heard distinctly by the curate and those with him, and as it +seemed to them to be uttered close by, as indeed it was, they got up to +look for the speaker, and before they had gone twenty paces they +discovered behind a rock, seated at the foot of an ash tree, a youth in +the dress of a peasant, whose face they were unable at the moment to see +as he was leaning forward, bathing his feet in the brook that flowed +past. They approached so silently that he did not perceive them, being +fully occupied in bathing his feet, which were so fair that they looked +like two pieces of shining crystal brought forth among the other stones +of the brook. The whiteness and beauty of these feet struck them with +surprise, for they did not seem to have been made to crush clods or to +follow the plough and the oxen as their owner's dress suggested; and so, +finding they had not been noticed, the curate, who was in front, made a +sign to the other two to conceal themselves behind some fragments of rock +that lay there; which they did, observing closely what the youth was +about. He had on a loose double-skirted dark brown jacket bound tight to +his body with a white cloth; he wore besides breeches and gaiters of +brown cloth, and on his head a brown montera; and he had the gaiters +turned up as far as the middle of the leg, which verily seemed to be of +pure alabaster. + +As soon as he had done bathing his beautiful feet, he wiped them with a +towel he took from under the montera, on taking off which he raised his +face, and those who were watching him had an opportunity of seeing a +beauty so exquisite that Cardenio said to the curate in a whisper: + +"As this is not Luscinda, it is no human creature but a divine being." + +The youth then took off the montera, and shaking his head from side to +side there broke loose and spread out a mass of hair that the beams of +the sun might have envied; by this they knew that what had seemed a +peasant was a lovely woman, nay the most beautiful the eyes of two of +them had ever beheld, or even Cardenio's if they had not seen and known +Luscinda, for he afterwards declared that only the beauty of Luscinda +could compare with this. The long auburn tresses not only covered her +shoulders, but such was their length and abundance, concealed her all +round beneath their masses, so that except the feet nothing of her form +was visible. She now used her hands as a comb, and if her feet had seemed +like bits of crystal in the water, her hands looked like pieces of driven +snow among her locks; all which increased not only the admiration of the +three beholders, but their anxiety to learn who she was. With this object +they resolved to show themselves, and at the stir they made in getting +upon their feet the fair damsel raised her head, and parting her hair +from before her eyes with both hands, she looked to see who had made the +noise, and the instant she perceived them she started to her feet, and +without waiting to put on her shoes or gather up her hair, hastily +snatched up a bundle as though of clothes that she had beside her, and, +scared and alarmed, endeavoured to take flight; but before she had gone +six paces she fell to the ground, her delicate feet being unable to bear +the roughness of the stones; seeing which, the three hastened towards +her, and the curate addressing her first said: + +"Stay, senora, whoever you may be, for those whom you see here only +desire to be of service to you; you have no need to attempt a flight so +heedless, for neither can your feet bear it, nor we allow it." + +Taken by surprise and bewildered, she made no reply to these words. They, +however, came towards her, and the curate taking her hand went on to say: + +"What your dress would hide, senora, is made known to us by your hair; a +clear proof that it can be no trifling cause that has disguised your +beauty in a garb so unworthy of it, and sent it into solitudes like these +where we have had the good fortune to find you, if not to relieve your +distress, at least to offer you comfort; for no distress, so long as life +lasts, can be so oppressive or reach such a height as to make the +sufferer refuse to listen to comfort offered with good intention. And so, +senora, or senor, or whatever you prefer to be, dismiss the fears that +our appearance has caused you and make us acquainted with your good or +evil fortunes, for from all of us together, or from each one of us, you +will receive sympathy in your trouble." + +While the curate was speaking, the disguised damsel stood as if +spell-bound, looking at them without opening her lips or uttering a word, +just like a village rustic to whom something strange that he has never +seen before has been suddenly shown; but on the curate addressing some +further words to the same effect to her, sighing deeply she broke silence +and said: + +"Since the solitude of these mountains has been unable to conceal me, and +the escape of my dishevelled tresses will not allow my tongue to deal in +falsehoods, it would be idle for me now to make any further pretence of +what, if you were to believe me, you would believe more out of courtesy +than for any other reason. This being so, I say I thank you, sirs, for +the offer you have made me, which places me under the obligation of +complying with the request you have made of me; though I fear the account +I shall give you of my misfortunes will excite in you as much concern as +compassion, for you will be unable to suggest anything to remedy them or +any consolation to alleviate them. However, that my honour may not be +left a matter of doubt in your minds, now that you have discovered me to +be a woman, and see that I am young, alone, and in this dress, things +that taken together or separately would be enough to destroy any good +name, I feel bound to tell what I would willingly keep secret if I +could." + +All this she who was now seen to be a lovely woman delivered without any +hesitation, with so much ease and in so sweet a voice that they were not +less charmed by her intelligence than by her beauty, and as they again +repeated their offers and entreaties to her to fulfil her promise, she +without further pressing, first modestly covering her feet and gathering +up her hair, seated herself on a stone with the three placed around her, +and, after an effort to restrain some tears that came to her eyes, in a +clear and steady voice began her story thus: + +"In this Andalusia there is a town from which a duke takes a title which +makes him one of those that are called Grandees of Spain. This nobleman +has two sons, the elder heir to his dignity and apparently to his good +qualities; the younger heir to I know not what, unless it be the +treachery of Vellido and the falsehood of Ganelon. My parents are this +lord's vassals, lowly in origin, but so wealthy that if birth had +conferred as much on them as fortune, they would have had nothing left to +desire, nor should I have had reason to fear trouble like that in which I +find myself now; for it may be that my ill fortune came of theirs in not +having been nobly born. It is true they are not so low that they have any +reason to be ashamed of their condition, but neither are they so high as +to remove from my mind the impression that my mishap comes of their +humble birth. They are, in short, peasants, plain homely people, without +any taint of disreputable blood, and, as the saying is, old rusty +Christians, but so rich that by their wealth and free-handed way of life +they are coming by degrees to be considered gentlefolk by birth, and even +by position; though the wealth and nobility they thought most of was +having me for their daughter; and as they have no other child to make +their heir, and are affectionate parents, I was one of the most indulged +daughters that ever parents indulged. + +"I was the mirror in which they beheld themselves, the staff of their old +age, and the object in which, with submission to Heaven, all their wishes +centred, and mine were in accordance with theirs, for I knew their worth; +and as I was mistress of their hearts, so was I also of their +possessions. Through me they engaged or dismissed their servants; through +my hands passed the accounts and returns of what was sown and reaped; the +oil-mills, the wine-presses, the count of the flocks and herds, the +beehives, all in short that a rich farmer like my father has or can have, +I had under my care, and I acted as steward and mistress with an +assiduity on my part and satisfaction on theirs that I cannot well +describe to you. The leisure hours left to me after I had given the +requisite orders to the head-shepherds, overseers, and other labourers, I +passed in such employments as are not only allowable but necessary for +young girls, those that the needle, embroidery cushion, and spinning +wheel usually afford, and if to refresh my mind I quitted them for a +while, I found recreation in reading some devotional book or playing the +harp, for experience taught me that music soothes the troubled mind and +relieves weariness of spirit. Such was the life I led in my parents' +house and if I have depicted it thus minutely, it is not out of +ostentation, or to let you know that I am rich, but that you may see how, +without any fault of mine, I have fallen from the happy condition I have +described, to the misery I am in at present. The truth is, that while I +was leading this busy life, in a retirement that might compare with that +of a monastery, and unseen as I thought by any except the servants of the +house (for when I went to Mass it was so early in the morning, and I was +so closely attended by my mother and the women of the household, and so +thickly veiled and so shy, that my eyes scarcely saw more ground than I +trod on), in spite of all this, the eyes of love, or idleness, more +properly speaking, that the lynx's cannot rival, discovered me, with the +help of the assiduity of Don Fernando; for that is the name of the +younger son of the duke I told of." + +The moment the speaker mentioned the name of Don Fernando, Cardenio +changed colour and broke into a sweat, with such signs of emotion that +the curate and the barber, who observed it, feared that one of the mad +fits which they heard attacked him sometimes was coming upon him; but +Cardenio showed no further agitation and remained quiet, regarding the +peasant girl with fixed attention, for he began to suspect who she was. +She, however, without noticing the excitement of Cardenio, continuing her +story, went on to say: + +"And they had hardly discovered me, when, as he owned afterwards, he was +smitten with a violent love for me, as the manner in which it displayed +itself plainly showed. But to shorten the long recital of my woes, I will +pass over in silence all the artifices employed by Don Fernando for +declaring his passion for me. He bribed all the household, he gave and +offered gifts and presents to my parents; every day was like a holiday or +a merry-making in our street; by night no one could sleep for the music; +the love letters that used to come to my hand, no one knew how, were +innumerable, full of tender pleadings and pledges, containing more +promises and oaths than there were letters in them; all which not only +did not soften me, but hardened my heart against him, as if he had been +my mortal enemy, and as if everything he did to make me yield were done +with the opposite intention. Not that the high-bred bearing of Don +Fernando was disagreeable to me, or that I found his importunities +wearisome; for it gave me a certain sort of satisfaction to find myself +so sought and prized by a gentleman of such distinction, and I was not +displeased at seeing my praises in his letters (for however ugly we women +may be, it seems to me it always pleases us to hear ourselves called +beautiful) but that my own sense of right was opposed to all this, as +well as the repeated advice of my parents, who now very plainly perceived +Don Fernando's purpose, for he cared very little if all the world knew +it. They told me they trusted and confided their honour and good name to +my virtue and rectitude alone, and bade me consider the disparity between +Don Fernando and myself, from which I might conclude that his intentions, +whatever he might say to the contrary, had for their aim his own pleasure +rather than my advantage; and if I were at all desirous of opposing an +obstacle to his unreasonable suit, they were ready, they said, to marry +me at once to anyone I preferred, either among the leading people of our +own town, or of any of those in the neighbourhood; for with their wealth +and my good name, a match might be looked for in any quarter. This offer, +and their sound advice strengthened my resolution, and I never gave Don +Fernando a word in reply that could hold out to him any hope of success, +however remote. + +"All this caution of mine, which he must have taken for coyness, had +apparently the effect of increasing his wanton appetite--for that is the +name I give to his passion for me; had it been what he declared it to be, +you would not know of it now, because there would have been no occasion +to tell you of it. At length he learned that my parents were +contemplating marriage for me in order to put an end to his hopes of +obtaining possession of me, or at least to secure additional protectors +to watch over me, and this intelligence or suspicion made him act as you +shall hear. One night, as I was in my chamber with no other companion +than a damsel who waited on me, with the doors carefully locked lest my +honour should be imperilled through any carelessness, I know not nor can +conceive how it happened, but, with all this seclusion and these +precautions, and in the solitude and silence of my retirement, I found +him standing before me, a vision that so astounded me that it deprived my +eyes of sight, and my tongue of speech. I had no power to utter a cry, +nor, I think, did he give me time to utter one, as he immediately +approached me, and taking me in his arms (for, overwhelmed as I was, I +was powerless, I say, to help myself), he began to make such professions +to me that I know not how falsehood could have had the power of dressing +them up to seem so like truth; and the traitor contrived that his tears +should vouch for his words, and his sighs for his sincerity. + +"I, a poor young creature alone, ill versed among my people in cases such +as this, began, I know not how, to think all these lying protestations +true, though without being moved by his sighs and tears to anything more +than pure compassion; and so, as the first feeling of bewilderment passed +away, and I began in some degree to recover myself, I said to him with +more courage than I thought I could have possessed, 'If, as I am now in +your arms, senor, I were in the claws of a fierce lion, and my +deliverance could be procured by doing or saying anything to the +prejudice of my honour, it would no more be in my power to do it or say +it, than it would be possible that what was should not have been; so +then, if you hold my body clasped in your arms, I hold my soul secured by +virtuous intentions, very different from yours, as you will see if you +attempt to carry them into effect by force. I am your vassal, but I am +not your slave; your nobility neither has nor should have any right to +dishonour or degrade my humble birth; and low-born peasant as I am, I +have my self-respect as much as you, a lord and gentleman: with me your +violence will be to no purpose, your wealth will have no weight, your +words will have no power to deceive me, nor your sighs or tears to soften +me: were I to see any of the things I speak of in him whom my parents +gave me as a husband, his will should be mine, and mine should be bounded +by his; and my honour being preserved even though my inclinations were +not would willingly yield him what you, senor, would now obtain by force; +and this I say lest you should suppose that any but my lawful husband +shall ever win anything of me.' 'If that,' said this disloyal gentleman, +'be the only scruple you feel, fairest Dorothea' (for that is the name of +this unhappy being), 'see here I give you my hand to be yours, and let +Heaven, from which nothing is hid, and this image of Our Lady you have +here, be witnesses of this pledge.'" + +When Cardenio heard her say she was called Dorothea, he showed fresh +agitation and felt convinced of the truth of his former suspicion, but he +was unwilling to interrupt the story, and wished to hear the end of what +he already all but knew, so he merely said: + +"What! is Dorothea your name, senora? I have heard of another of the same +name who can perhaps match your misfortunes. But proceed; by-and-by I may +tell you something that will astonish you as much as it will excite your +compassion." + +Dorothea was struck by Cardenio's words as well as by his strange and +miserable attire, and begged him if he knew anything concerning her to +tell it to her at once, for if fortune had left her any blessing it was +courage to bear whatever calamity might fall upon her, as she felt sure +that none could reach her capable of increasing in any degree what she +endured already. + +"I would not let the occasion pass, senora," replied Cardenio, "of +telling you what I think, if what I suspect were the truth, but so far +there has been no opportunity, nor is it of any importance to you to know +it." + +"Be it as it may," replied Dorothea, "what happened in my story was that +Don Fernando, taking an image that stood in the chamber, placed it as a +witness of our betrothal, and with the most binding words and extravagant +oaths gave me his promise to become my husband; though before he had made +an end of pledging himself I bade him consider well what he was doing, +and think of the anger his father would feel at seeing him married to a +peasant girl and one of his vassals; I told him not to let my beauty, +such as it was, blind him, for that was not enough to furnish an excuse +for his transgression; and if in the love he bore me he wished to do me +any kindness, it would be to leave my lot to follow its course at the +level my condition required; for marriages so unequal never brought +happiness, nor did they continue long to afford the enjoyment they began +with. + +"All this that I have now repeated I said to him, and much more which I +cannot recollect; but it had no effect in inducing him to forego his +purpose; he who has no intention of paying does not trouble himself about +difficulties when he is striking the bargain. At the same time I argued +the matter briefly in my own mind, saying to myself, 'I shall not be the +first who has risen through marriage from a lowly to a lofty station, nor +will Don Fernando be the first whom beauty or, as is more likely, a blind +attachment, has led to mate himself below his rank. Then, since I am +introducing no new usage or practice, I may as well avail myself of the +honour that chance offers me, for even though his inclination for me +should not outlast the attainment of his wishes, I shall be, after all, +his wife before God. And if I strive to repel him by scorn, I can see +that, fair means failing, he is in a mood to use force, and I shall be +left dishonoured and without any means of proving my innocence to those +who cannot know how innocently I have come to be in this position; for +what arguments would persuade my parents that this gentleman entered my +chamber without my consent?' + +"All these questions and answers passed through my mind in a moment; but +the oaths of Don Fernando, the witnesses he appealed to, the tears he +shed, and lastly the charms of his person and his high-bred grace, which, +accompanied by such signs of genuine love, might well have conquered a +heart even more free and coy than mine--these were the things that more +than all began to influence me and lead me unawares to my ruin. I called +my waiting-maid to me, that there might be a witness on earth besides +those in Heaven, and again Don Fernando renewed and repeated his oaths, +invoked as witnesses fresh saints in addition to the former ones, called +down upon himself a thousand curses hereafter should he fail to keep his +promise, shed more tears, redoubled his sighs and pressed me closer in +his arms, from which he had never allowed me to escape; and so I was left +by my maid, and ceased to be one, and he became a traitor and a perjured +man. + +"The day which followed the night of my misfortune did not come so +quickly, I imagine, as Don Fernando wished, for when desire has attained +its object, the greatest pleasure is to fly from the scene of pleasure. I +say so because Don Fernando made all haste to leave me, and by the +adroitness of my maid, who was indeed the one who had admitted him, +gained the street before daybreak; but on taking leave of me he told me, +though not with as much earnestness and fervour as when he came, that I +might rest assured of his faith and of the sanctity and sincerity of his +oaths; and to confirm his words he drew a rich ring off his finger and +placed it upon mine. He then took his departure and I was left, I know +not whether sorrowful or happy; all I can say is, I was left agitated and +troubled in mind and almost bewildered by what had taken place, and I had +not the spirit, or else it did not occur to me, to chide my maid for the +treachery she had been guilty of in concealing Don Fernando in my +chamber; for as yet I was unable to make up my mind whether what had +befallen me was for good or evil. I told Don Fernando at parting, that as +I was now his, he might see me on other nights in the same way, until it +should be his pleasure to let the matter become known; but, except the +following night, he came no more, nor for more than a month could I catch +a glimpse of him in the street or in church, while I wearied myself with +watching for one; although I knew he was in the town, and almost every +day went out hunting, a pastime he was very fond of. I remember well how +sad and dreary those days and hours were to me; I remember well how I +began to doubt as they went by, and even to lose confidence in the faith +of Don Fernando; and I remember, too, how my maid heard those words in +reproof of her audacity that she had not heard before, and how I was +forced to put a constraint on my tears and on the expression of my +countenance, not to give my parents cause to ask me why I was so +melancholy, and drive me to invent falsehoods in reply. But all this was +suddenly brought to an end, for the time came when all such +considerations were disregarded, and there was no further question of +honour, when my patience gave way and the secret of my heart became known +abroad. The reason was, that a few days later it was reported in the town +that Don Fernando had been married in a neighbouring city to a maiden of +rare beauty, the daughter of parents of distinguished position, though +not so rich that her portion would entitle her to look for so brilliant a +match; it was said, too, that her name was Luscinda, and that at the +betrothal some strange things had happened." + +Cardenio heard the name of Luscinda, but he only shrugged his shoulders, +bit his lips, bent his brows, and before long two streams of tears +escaped from his eyes. Dorothea, however, did not interrupt her story, +but went on in these words: + +"This sad intelligence reached my ears, and, instead of being struck with +a chill, with such wrath and fury did my heart burn that I scarcely +restrained myself from rushing out into the streets, crying aloud and +proclaiming openly the perfidy and treachery of which I was the victim; +but this transport of rage was for the time checked by a resolution I +formed, to be carried out the same night, and that was to assume this +dress, which I got from a servant of my father's, one of the zagals, as +they are called in farmhouses, to whom I confided the whole of my +misfortune, and whom I entreated to accompany me to the city where I +heard my enemy was. He, though he remonstrated with me for my boldness, +and condemned my resolution, when he saw me bent upon my purpose, offered +to bear me company, as he said, to the end of the world. I at once packed +up in a linen pillow-case a woman's dress, and some jewels and money to +provide for emergencies, and in the silence of the night, without letting +my treacherous maid know, I sallied forth from the house, accompanied by +my servant and abundant anxieties, and on foot set out for the city, but +borne as it were on wings by my eagerness to reach it, if not to prevent +what I presumed to be already done, at least to call upon Don Fernando to +tell me with what conscience he had done it. I reached my destination in +two days and a half, and on entering the city inquired for the house of +Luscinda's parents. The first person I asked gave me more in reply than I +sought to know; he showed me the house, and told me all that had occurred +at the betrothal of the daughter of the family, an affair of such +notoriety in the city that it was the talk of every knot of idlers in the +street. He said that on the night of Don Fernando's betrothal with +Luscinda, as soon as she had consented to be his bride by saying 'Yes,' +she was taken with a sudden fainting fit, and that on the bridegroom +approaching to unlace the bosom of her dress to give her air, he found a +paper in her own handwriting, in which she said and declared that she +could not be Don Fernando's bride, because she was already Cardenio's, +who, according to the man's account, was a gentleman of distinction of +the same city; and that if she had accepted Don Fernando, it was only in +obedience to her parents. In short, he said, the words of the paper made +it clear she meant to kill herself on the completion of the betrothal, +and gave her reasons for putting an end to herself all which was +confirmed, it was said, by a dagger they found somewhere in her clothes. +On seeing this, Don Fernando, persuaded that Luscinda had befooled, +slighted, and trifled with him, assailed her before she had recovered +from her swoon, and tried to stab her with the dagger that had been +found, and would have succeeded had not her parents and those who were +present prevented him. It was said, moreover, that Don Fernando went away +at once, and that Luscinda did not recover from her prostration until the +next day, when she told her parents how she was really the bride of that +Cardenio I have mentioned. I learned besides that Cardenio, according to +report, had been present at the betrothal; and that upon seeing her +betrothed contrary to his expectation, he had quitted the city in +despair, leaving behind him a letter declaring the wrong Luscinda had +done him, and his intention of going where no one should ever see him +again. All this was a matter of notoriety in the city, and everyone spoke +of it; especially when it became known that Luscinda was missing from her +father's house and from the city, for she was not to be found anywhere, +to the distraction of her parents, who knew not what steps to take to +recover her. What I learned revived my hopes, and I was better pleased +not to have found Don Fernando than to find him married, for it seemed to +me that the door was not yet entirely shut upon relief in my case, and I +thought that perhaps Heaven had put this impediment in the way of the +second marriage, to lead him to recognise his obligations under the +former one, and reflect that as a Christian he was bound to consider his +soul above all human objects. All this passed through my mind, and I +strove to comfort myself without comfort, indulging in faint and distant +hopes of cherishing that life that I now abhor. + +"But while I was in the city, uncertain what to do, as I could not find +Don Fernando, I heard notice given by the public crier offering a great +reward to anyone who should find me, and giving the particulars of my age +and of the very dress I wore; and I heard it said that the lad who came +with me had taken me away from my father's house; a thing that cut me to +the heart, showing how low my good name had fallen, since it was not +enough that I should lose it by my flight, but they must add with whom I +had fled, and that one so much beneath me and so unworthy of my +consideration. The instant I heard the notice I quitted the city with my +servant, who now began to show signs of wavering in his fidelity to me, +and the same night, for fear of discovery, we entered the most thickly +wooded part of these mountains. But, as is commonly said, one evil calls +up another and the end of one misfortune is apt to be the beginning of +one still greater, and so it proved in my case; for my worthy servant, +until then so faithful and trusty when he found me in this lonely spot, +moved more by his own villainy than by my beauty, sought to take +advantage of the opportunity which these solitudes seemed to present him, +and with little shame and less fear of God and respect for me, began to +make overtures to me; and finding that I replied to the effrontery of his +proposals with justly severe language, he laid aside the entreaties which +he had employed at first, and began to use violence. + +"But just Heaven, that seldom fails to watch over and aid good intentions, +so aided mine that with my slight strength and with little exertion I +pushed him over a precipice, where I left him, whether dead or alive I +know not; and then, with greater speed than seemed possible in my terror +and fatigue, I made my way into the mountains, without any other thought +or purpose save that of hiding myself among them, and escaping my father +and those despatched in search of me by his orders. It is now I know not +how many months since with this object I came here, where I met a +herdsman who engaged me as his servant at a place in the heart of this +Sierra, and all this time I have been serving him as herd, striving to +keep always afield to hide these locks which have now unexpectedly +betrayed me. But all my care and pains were unavailing, for my master +made the discovery that I was not a man, and harboured the same base +designs as my servant; and as fortune does not always supply a remedy in +cases of difficulty, and I had no precipice or ravine at hand down which +to fling the master and cure his passion, as I had in the servant's case, +I thought it a lesser evil to leave him and again conceal myself among +these crags, than make trial of my strength and argument with him. So, as +I say, once more I went into hiding to seek for some place where I might +with sighs and tears implore Heaven to have pity on my misery, and grant +me help and strength to escape from it, or let me die among the +solitudes, leaving no trace of an unhappy being who, by no fault of hers, +has furnished matter for talk and scandal at home and abroad." + +Chapter XXIX. - +Which treats of the droll device and method adopted to extricate our +love-stricken Knight from the severe penance he had imposed upon himself + +"Such, sirs, is the true story of my sad adventures; judge for yourselves +now whether the sighs and lamentations you heard, and the tears that +flowed from my eyes, had not sufficient cause even if I had indulged in +them more freely; and if you consider the nature of my misfortune you +will see that consolation is idle, as there is no possible remedy for it. +All I ask of you is, what you may easily and reasonably do, to show me +where I may pass my life unharassed by the fear and dread of discovery by +those who are in search of me; for though the great love my parents bear +me makes me feel sure of being kindly received by them, so great is my +feeling of shame at the mere thought that I cannot present myself before +them as they expect, that I had rather banish myself from their sight for +ever than look them in the face with the reflection that they beheld mine +stripped of that purity they had a right to expect in me." + +With these words she became silent, and the colour that overspread her +face showed plainly the pain and shame she was suffering at heart. In +theirs the listeners felt as much pity as wonder at her misfortunes; but +as the curate was just about to offer her some consolation and advice +Cardenio forestalled him, saying, "So then, senora, you are the fair +Dorothea, the only daughter of the rich Clenardo?" Dorothea was +astonished at hearing her father's name, and at the miserable appearance +of him who mentioned it, for it has been already said how wretchedly clad +Cardenio was; so she said to him: + +"And who may you be, brother, who seem to know my father's name so well? +For so far, if I remember rightly, I have not mentioned it in the whole +story of my misfortunes." + +"I am that unhappy being, senora," replied Cardenio, "whom, as you have +said, Luscinda declared to be her husband; I am the unfortunate Cardenio, +whom the wrong-doing of him who has brought you to your present condition +has reduced to the state you see me in, bare, ragged, bereft of all human +comfort, and what is worse, of reason, for I only possess it when Heaven +is pleased for some short space to restore it to me. I, Dorothea, am he +who witnessed the wrong done by Don Fernando, and waited to hear the +'Yes' uttered by which Luscinda owned herself his betrothed: I am he who +had not courage enough to see how her fainting fit ended, or what came of +the paper that was found in her bosom, because my heart had not the +fortitude to endure so many strokes of ill-fortune at once; and so losing +patience I quitted the house, and leaving a letter with my host, which I +entreated him to place in Luscinda's hands, I betook myself to these +solitudes, resolved to end here the life I hated as if it were my mortal +enemy. But fate would not rid me of it, contenting itself with robbing me +of my reason, perhaps to preserve me for the good fortune I have had in +meeting you; for if that which you have just told us be true, as I +believe it to be, it may be that Heaven has yet in store for both of us a +happier termination to our misfortunes than we look for; because seeing +that Luscinda cannot marry Don Fernando, being mine, as she has herself +so openly declared, and that Don Fernando cannot marry her as he is +yours, we may reasonably hope that Heaven will restore to us what is +ours, as it is still in existence and not yet alienated or destroyed. And +as we have this consolation springing from no very visionary hope or wild +fancy, I entreat you, senora, to form new resolutions in your better +mind, as I mean to do in mine, preparing yourself to look forward to +happier fortunes; for I swear to you by the faith of a gentleman and a +Christian not to desert you until I see you in possession of Don +Fernando, and if I cannot by words induce him to recognise his obligation +to you, in that case to avail myself of the right which my rank as a +gentleman gives me, and with just cause challenge him on account of the +injury he has done you, not regarding my own wrongs, which I shall leave +to Heaven to avenge, while I on earth devote myself to yours." + +Cardenio's words completed the astonishment of Dorothea, and not knowing +how to return thanks for such an offer, she attempted to kiss his feet; +but Cardenio would not permit it, and the licentiate replied for both, +commended the sound reasoning of Cardenio, and lastly, begged, advised, +and urged them to come with him to his village, where they might furnish +themselves with what they needed, and take measures to discover Don +Fernando, or restore Dorothea to her parents, or do what seemed to them +most advisable. Cardenio and Dorothea thanked him, and accepted the kind +offer he made them; and the barber, who had been listening to all +attentively and in silence, on his part some kindly words also, and with +no less good-will than the curate offered his services in any way that +might be of use to them. He also explained to them in a few words the +object that had brought them there, and the strange nature of Don +Quixote's madness, and how they were waiting for his squire, who had gone +in search of him. Like the recollection of a dream, the quarrel he had +had with Don Quixote came back to Cardenio's memory, and he described it +to the others; but he was unable to say what the dispute was about. + +At this moment they heard a shout, and recognised it as coming from +Sancho Panza, who, not finding them where he had left them, was calling +aloud to them. They went to meet him, and in answer to their inquiries +about Don Quixote, he told them how he had found him stripped to his +shirt, lank, yellow, half dead with hunger, and sighing for his lady +Dulcinea; and although he had told him that she commanded him to quit +that place and come to El Toboso, where she was expecting him, he had +answered that he was determined not to appear in the presence of her +beauty until he had done deeds to make him worthy of her favour; and if +this went on, Sancho said, he ran the risk of not becoming an emperor as +in duty bound, or even an archbishop, which was the least he could be; +for which reason they ought to consider what was to be done to get him +away from there. The licentiate in reply told him not to be uneasy, for +they would fetch him away in spite of himself. He then told Cardenio and +Dorothea what they had proposed to do to cure Don Quixote, or at any rate +take him home; upon which Dorothea said that she could play the +distressed damsel better than the barber; especially as she had there the +dress in which to do it to the life, and that they might trust to her +acting the part in every particular requisite for carrying out their +scheme, for she had read a great many books of chivalry, and knew exactly +the style in which afflicted damsels begged boons of knights-errant. + +"In that case," said the curate, "there is nothing more required than to +set about it at once, for beyond a doubt fortune is declaring itself in +our favour, since it has so unexpectedly begun to open a door for your +relief, and smoothed the way for us to our object." + +Dorothea then took out of her pillow-case a complete petticoat of some +rich stuff, and a green mantle of some other fine material, and a +necklace and other ornaments out of a little box, and with these in an +instant she so arrayed herself that she looked like a great and rich +lady. All this, and more, she said, she had taken from home in case of +need, but that until then she had had no occasion to make use of it. They +were all highly delighted with her grace, air, and beauty, and declared +Don Fernando to be a man of very little taste when he rejected such +charms. But the one who admired her most was Sancho Panza, for it seemed +to him (what indeed was true) that in all the days of his life he had +never seen such a lovely creature; and he asked the curate with great +eagerness who this beautiful lady was, and what she wanted in these +out-of-the-way quarters. + +"This fair lady, brother Sancho," replied the curate, "is no less a +personage than the heiress in the direct male line of the great kingdom +of Micomicon, who has come in search of your master to beg a boon of him, +which is that he redress a wrong or injury that a wicked giant has done +her; and from the fame as a good knight which your master has acquired +far and wide, this princess has come from Guinea to seek him." + +"A lucky seeking and a lucky finding!" said Sancho Panza at this; +"especially if my master has the good fortune to redress that injury, and +right that wrong, and kill that son of a bitch of a giant your worship +speaks of; as kill him he will if he meets him, unless, indeed, he +happens to be a phantom; for my master has no power at all against +phantoms. But one thing among others I would beg of you, senor +licentiate, which is, that, to prevent my master taking a fancy to be an +archbishop, for that is what I'm afraid of, your worship would recommend +him to marry this princess at once; for in this way he will be disabled +from taking archbishop's orders, and will easily come into his empire, +and I to the end of my desires; I have been thinking over the matter +carefully, and by what I can make out I find it will not do for me that +my master should become an archbishop, because I am no good for the +Church, as I am married; and for me now, having as I have a wife and +children, to set about obtaining dispensations to enable me to hold a +place of profit under the Church, would be endless work; so that, senor, +it all turns on my master marrying this lady at once--for as yet I do not +know her grace, and so I cannot call her by her name." + +"She is called the Princess Micomicona," said the curate; "for as her +kingdom is Micomicon, it is clear that must be her name." + +"There's no doubt of that," replied Sancho, "for I have known many to +take their name and title from the place where they were born and call +themselves Pedro of Alcala, Juan of Ubeda, and Diego of Valladolid; and +it may be that over there in Guinea queens have the same way of taking +the names of their kingdoms." + +"So it may," said the curate; "and as for your master's marrying, I will +do all in my power towards it:" with which Sancho was as much pleased as +the curate was amazed at his simplicity and at seeing what a hold the +absurdities of his master had taken of his fancy, for he had evidently +persuaded himself that he was going to be an emperor. + +By this time Dorothea had seated herself upon the curate's mule, and the +barber had fitted the ox-tail beard to his face, and they now told Sancho +to conduct them to where Don Quixote was, warning him not to say that he +knew either the licentiate or the barber, as his master's becoming an +emperor entirely depended on his not recognising them; neither the curate +nor Cardenio, however, thought fit to go with them; Cardenio lest he +should remind Don Quixote of the quarrel he had with him, and the curate +as there was no necessity for his presence just yet, so they allowed the +others to go on before them, while they themselves followed slowly on +foot. The curate did not forget to instruct Dorothea how to act, but she +said they might make their minds easy, as everything would be done +exactly as the books of chivalry required and described. + +They had gone about three-quarters of a league when they discovered Don +Quixote in a wilderness of rocks, by this time clothed, but without his +armour; and as soon as Dorothea saw him and was told by Sancho that that +was Don Quixote, she whipped her palfrey, the well-bearded barber +following her, and on coming up to him her squire sprang from his mule +and came forward to receive her in his arms, and she dismounting with +great ease of manner advanced to kneel before the feet of Don Quixote; +and though he strove to raise her up, she without rising addressed him in +this fashion: + +"From this spot I will not rise, valiant and doughty knight, until your +goodness and courtesy grant me a boon, which will redound to the honour +and renown of your person and render a service to the most disconsolate +and afflicted damsel the sun has seen; and if the might of your strong +arm corresponds to the repute of your immortal fame, you are bound to aid +the helpless being who, led by the savour of your renowned name, hath +come from far distant lands to seek your aid in her misfortunes." + +"I will not answer a word, beauteous lady," replied Don Quixote, "nor +will I listen to anything further concerning you, until you rise from the +earth." + +"I will not rise, senor," answered the afflicted damsel, "unless of your +courtesy the boon I ask is first granted me." + +"I grant and accord it," said Don Quixote, "provided without detriment or +prejudice to my king, my country, or her who holds the key of my heart +and freedom, it may be complied with." + +"It will not be to the detriment or prejudice of any of them, my worthy +lord," said the afflicted damsel; and here Sancho Panza drew close to his +master's ear and said to him very softly, "Your worship may very safely +grant the boon she asks; it's nothing at all; only to kill a big giant; +and she who asks it is the exalted Princess Micomicona, queen of the +great kingdom of Micomicon of Ethiopia." + +"Let her be who she may," replied Don Quixote, "I will do what is my +bounden duty, and what my conscience bids me, in conformity with what I +have professed;" and turning to the damsel he said, "Let your great +beauty rise, for I grant the boon which you would ask of me." + +"Then what I ask," said the damsel, "is that your magnanimous person +accompany me at once whither I will conduct you, and that you promise not +to engage in any other adventure or quest until you have avenged me of a +traitor who against all human and divine law, has usurped my kingdom." + +"I repeat that I grant it," replied Don Quixote; "and so, lady, you may +from this day forth lay aside the melancholy that distresses you, and let +your failing hopes gather new life and strength, for with the help of God +and of my arm you will soon see yourself restored to your kingdom, and +seated upon the throne of your ancient and mighty realm, notwithstanding +and despite of the felons who would gainsay it; and now hands to the +work, for in delay there is apt to be danger." + +The distressed damsel strove with much pertinacity to kiss his hands; but +Don Quixote, who was in all things a polished and courteous knight, would +by no means allow it, but made her rise and embraced her with great +courtesy and politeness, and ordered Sancho to look to Rocinante's +girths, and to arm him without a moment's delay. Sancho took down the +armour, which was hung up on a tree like a trophy, and having seen to the +girths armed his master in a trice, who as soon as he found himself in +his armour exclaimed: + +"Let us be gone in the name of God to bring aid to this great lady." + +The barber was all this time on his knees at great pains to hide his +laughter and not let his beard fall, for had it fallen maybe their fine +scheme would have come to nothing; but now seeing the boon granted, and +the promptitude with which Don Quixote prepared to set out in compliance +with it, he rose and took his lady's hand, and between them they placed +her upon the mule. Don Quixote then mounted Rocinante, and the barber +settled himself on his beast, Sancho being left to go on foot, which made +him feel anew the loss of his Dapple, finding the want of him now. But he +bore all with cheerfulness, being persuaded that his master had now +fairly started and was just on the point of becoming an emperor; for he +felt no doubt at all that he would marry this princess, and be king of +Micomicon at least. The only thing that troubled him was the reflection +that this kingdom was in the land of the blacks, and that the people they +would give him for vassals would be all black; but for this he soon found +a remedy in his fancy, and said he to himself, "What is it to me if my +vassals are blacks? What more have I to do than make a cargo of them and +carry them to Spain, where I can sell them and get ready money for them, +and with it buy some title or some office in which to live at ease all +the days of my life? Not unless you go to sleep and haven't the wit or +skill to turn things to account and sell three, six, or ten thousand +vassals while you would be talking about it! By God I will stir them up, +big and little, or as best I can, and let them be ever so black I'll turn +them into white or yellow. Come, come, what a fool I am!" And so he +jogged on, so occupied with his thoughts and easy in his mind that he +forgot all about the hardship of travelling on foot. + +Cardenio and the curate were watching all this from among some bushes, +not knowing how to join company with the others; but the curate, who was +very fertile in devices, soon hit upon a way of effecting their purpose, +and with a pair of scissors he had in a case he quickly cut off +Cardenio's beard, and putting on him a grey jerkin of his own he gave him +a black cloak, leaving himself in his breeches and doublet, while +Cardenio's appearance was so different from what it had been that he +would not have known himself had he seen himself in a mirror. Having +effected this, although the others had gone on ahead while they were +disguising themselves, they easily came out on the high road before them, +for the brambles and awkward places they encountered did not allow those +on horseback to go as fast as those on foot. They then posted themselves +on the level ground at the outlet of the Sierra, and as soon as Don +Quixote and his companions emerged from it the curate began to examine +him very deliberately, as though he were striving to recognise him, and +after having stared at him for some time he hastened towards him with +open arms exclaiming, "A happy meeting with the mirror of chivalry, my +worthy compatriot Don Quixote of La Mancha, the flower and cream of high +breeding, the protection and relief of the distressed, the quintessence +of knights-errant!" And so saying he clasped in his arms the knee of Don +Quixote's left leg. He, astonished at the stranger's words and behaviour, +looked at him attentively, and at length recognised him, very much +surprised to see him there, and made great efforts to dismount. This, +however, the curate would not allow, on which Don Quixote said, "Permit +me, senor licentiate, for it is not fitting that I should be on horseback +and so reverend a person as your worship on foot." + +"On no account will I allow it," said the curate; "your mightiness must +remain on horseback, for it is on horseback you achieve the greatest +deeds and adventures that have been beheld in our age; as for me, an +unworthy priest, it will serve me well enough to mount on the haunches of +one of the mules of these gentlefolk who accompany your worship, if they +have no objection, and I will fancy I am mounted on the steed Pegasus, or +on the zebra or charger that bore the famous Moor, Muzaraque, who to this +day lies enchanted in the great hill of Zulema, a little distance from +the great Complutum." + +"Nor even that will I consent to, senor licentiate," answered Don +Quixote, "and I know it will be the good pleasure of my lady the +princess, out of love for me, to order her squire to give up the saddle +of his mule to your worship, and he can sit behind if the beast will bear +it." + +"It will, I am sure," said the princess, "and I am sure, too, that I need +not order my squire, for he is too courteous and considerate to allow a +Churchman to go on foot when he might be mounted." + +"That he is," said the barber, and at once alighting, he offered his +saddle to the curate, who accepted it without much entreaty; but +unfortunately as the barber was mounting behind, the mule, being as it +happened a hired one, which is the same thing as saying ill-conditioned, +lifted its hind hoofs and let fly a couple of kicks in the air, which +would have made Master Nicholas wish his expedition in quest of Don +Quixote at the devil had they caught him on the breast or head. As it +was, they so took him by surprise that he came to the ground, giving so +little heed to his beard that it fell off, and all he could do when he +found himself without it was to cover his face hastily with both his +hands and moan that his teeth were knocked out. Don Quixote when he saw +all that bundle of beard detached, without jaws or blood, from the face +of the fallen squire, exclaimed: + +"By the living God, but this is a great miracle! it has knocked off and +plucked away the beard from his face as if it had been shaved off +designedly." + +The curate, seeing the danger of discovery that threatened his scheme, at +once pounced upon the beard and hastened with it to where Master Nicholas +lay, still uttering moans, and drawing his head to his breast had it on +in an instant, muttering over him some words which he said were a certain +special charm for sticking on beards, as they would see; and as soon as +he had it fixed he left him, and the squire appeared well bearded and +whole as before, whereat Don Quixote was beyond measure astonished, and +begged the curate to teach him that charm when he had an opportunity, as +he was persuaded its virtue must extend beyond the sticking on of beards, +for it was clear that where the beard had been stripped off the flesh +must have remained torn and lacerated, and when it could heal all that it +must be good for more than beards. + +"And so it is," said the curate, and he promised to teach it to him on +the first opportunity. They then agreed that for the present the curate +should mount, and that the three should ride by turns until they reached +the inn, which might be about six leagues from where they were. + +Three then being mounted, that is to say, Don Quixote, the princess, and +the curate, and three on foot, Cardenio, the barber, and Sancho Panza, +Don Quixote said to the damsel: + +"Let your highness, lady, lead on whithersoever is most pleasing to you;" +but before she could answer the licentiate said: + +"Towards what kingdom would your ladyship direct our course? Is it +perchance towards that of Micomicon? It must be, or else I know little +about kingdoms." + +She, being ready on all points, understood that she was to answer "Yes," +so she said "Yes, senor, my way lies towards that kingdom." + +"In that case," said the curate, "we must pass right through my village, +and there your worship will take the road to Cartagena, where you will be +able to embark, fortune favouring; and if the wind be fair and the sea +smooth and tranquil, in somewhat less than nine years you may come in +sight of the great lake Meona, I mean Meotides, which is little more than +a hundred days' journey this side of your highness's kingdom." + +"Your worship is mistaken, senor," said she; "for it is not two years +since I set out from it, and though I never had good weather, +nevertheless I am here to behold what I so longed for, and that is my +lord Don Quixote of La Mancha, whose fame came to my ears as soon as I +set foot in Spain and impelled me to go in search of him, to commend +myself to his courtesy, and entrust the justice of my cause to the might +of his invincible arm." + +"Enough; no more praise," said Don Quixote at this, "for I hate all +flattery; and though this may not be so, still language of the kind is +offensive to my chaste ears. I will only say, senora, that whether it has +might or not, that which it may or may not have shall be devoted to your +service even to death; and now, leaving this to its proper season, I +would ask the senor licentiate to tell me what it is that has brought him +into these parts, alone, unattended, and so lightly clad that I am filled +with amazement." + +"I will answer that briefly," replied the curate; "you must know then, +Senor Don Quixote, that Master Nicholas, our friend and barber, and I +were going to Seville to receive some money that a relative of mine who +went to the Indies many years ago had sent me, and not such a small sum +but that it was over sixty thousand pieces of eight, full weight, which +is something; and passing by this place yesterday we were attacked by +four footpads, who stripped us even to our beards, and them they stripped +off so that the barber found it necessary to put on a false one, and even +this young man here"-pointing to Cardenio--"they completely transformed. +But the best of it is, the story goes in the neighbourhood that those who +attacked us belong to a number of galley slaves who, they say, were set +free almost on the very same spot by a man of such valour that, in spite +of the commissary and of the guards, he released the whole of them; and +beyond all doubt he must have been out of his senses, or he must be as +great a scoundrel as they, or some man without heart or conscience to let +the wolf loose among the sheep, the fox among the hens, the fly among the +honey. He has defrauded justice, and opposed his king and lawful master, +for he opposed his just commands; he has, I say, robbed the galleys of +their feet, stirred up the Holy Brotherhood which for many years past has +been quiet, and, lastly, has done a deed by which his soul may be lost +without any gain to his body." Sancho had told the curate and the barber +of the adventure of the galley slaves, which, so much to his glory, his +master had achieved, and hence the curate in alluding to it made the most +of it to see what would be said or done by Don Quixote; who changed +colour at every word, not daring to say that it was he who had been the +liberator of those worthy people. "These, then," said the curate, "were +they who robbed us; and God in his mercy pardon him who would not let +them go to the punishment they deserved." + +Chapter XXX. - +Which treats of address displayed by the fair Dorothea, with other +matters pleasant and amusing + +The curate had hardly ceased speaking, when Sancho said, "In faith, then, +senor licentiate, he who did that deed was my master; and it was not for +want of my telling him beforehand and warning him to mind what he was +about, and that it was a sin to set them at liberty, as they were all on +the march there because they were special scoundrels." + +"Blockhead!" said Don Quixote at this, "it is no business or concern of +knights-errant to inquire whether any persons in affliction, in chains, +or oppressed that they may meet on the high roads go that way and suffer +as they do because of their faults or because of their misfortunes. It +only concerns them to aid them as persons in need of help, having regard +to their sufferings and not to their rascalities. I encountered a chaplet +or string of miserable and unfortunate people, and did for them what my +sense of duty demands of me, and as for the rest be that as it may; and +whoever takes objection to it, saving the sacred dignity of the senor +licentiate and his honoured person, I say he knows little about chivalry +and lies like a whoreson villain, and this I will give him to know to the +fullest extent with my sword;" and so saying he settled himself in his +stirrups and pressed down his morion; for the barber's basin, which +according to him was Mambrino's helmet, he carried hanging at the +saddle-bow until he could repair the damage done to it by the galley +slaves. + +Dorothea, who was shrewd and sprightly, and by this time thoroughly +understood Don Quixote's crazy turn, and that all except Sancho Panza +were making game of him, not to be behind the rest said to him, on +observing his irritation, "Sir Knight, remember the boon you have +promised me, and that in accordance with it you must not engage in any +other adventure, be it ever so pressing; calm yourself, for if the +licentiate had known that the galley slaves had been set free by that +unconquered arm he would have stopped his mouth thrice over, or even +bitten his tongue three times before he would have said a word that +tended towards disrespect of your worship." + +"That I swear heartily," said the curate, "and I would have even plucked +off a moustache." + +"I will hold my peace, senora," said Don Quixote, "and I will curb the +natural anger that had arisen in my breast, and will proceed in peace and +quietness until I have fulfilled my promise; but in return for this +consideration I entreat you to tell me, if you have no objection to do +so, what is the nature of your trouble, and how many, who, and what are +the persons of whom I am to require due satisfaction, and on whom I am to +take vengeance on your behalf?" + +"That I will do with all my heart," replied Dorothea, "if it will not be +wearisome to you to hear of miseries and misfortunes." + +"It will not be wearisome, senora," said Don Quixote; to which Dorothea +replied, "Well, if that be so, give me your attention." As soon as she +said this, Cardenio and the barber drew close to her side, eager to hear +what sort of story the quick-witted Dorothea would invent for herself; +and Sancho did the same, for he was as much taken in by her as his +master; and she having settled herself comfortably in the saddle, and +with the help of coughing and other preliminaries taken time to think, +began with great sprightliness of manner in this fashion. + +"First of all, I would have you know, sirs, that my name is-" and here +she stopped for a moment, for she forgot the name the curate had given +her; but he came to her relief, seeing what her difficulty was, and said, +"It is no wonder, senora, that your highness should be confused and +embarrassed in telling the tale of your misfortunes; for such afflictions +often have the effect of depriving the sufferers of memory, so that they +do not even remember their own names, as is the case now with your +ladyship, who has forgotten that she is called the Princess Micomicona, +lawful heiress of the great kingdom of Micomicon; and with this cue your +highness may now recall to your sorrowful recollection all you may wish +to tell us." + +"That is the truth," said the damsel; "but I think from this on I shall +have no need of any prompting, and I shall bring my true story safe into +port, and here it is. The king my father, who was called Tinacrio the +Sapient, was very learned in what they call magic arts, and became aware +by his craft that my mother, who was called Queen Jaramilla, was to die +before he did, and that soon after he too was to depart this life, and I +was to be left an orphan without father or mother. But all this, he +declared, did not so much grieve or distress him as his certain knowledge +that a prodigious giant, the lord of a great island close to our kingdom, +Pandafilando of the Scowl by name--for it is averred that, though his +eyes are properly placed and straight, he always looks askew as if he +squinted, and this he does out of malignity, to strike fear and terror +into those he looks at--that he knew, I say, that this giant on becoming +aware of my orphan condition would overrun my kingdom with a mighty force +and strip me of all, not leaving me even a small village to shelter me; +but that I could avoid all this ruin and misfortune if I were willing to +marry him; however, as far as he could see, he never expected that I +would consent to a marriage so unequal; and he said no more than the +truth in this, for it has never entered my mind to marry that giant, or +any other, let him be ever so great or enormous. My father said, too, +that when he was dead, and I saw Pandafilando about to invade my kingdom, +I was not to wait and attempt to defend myself, for that would be +destructive to me, but that I should leave the kingdom entirely open to +him if I wished to avoid the death and total destruction of my good and +loyal vassals, for there would be no possibility of defending myself +against the giant's devilish power; and that I should at once with some +of my followers set out for Spain, where I should obtain relief in my +distress on finding a certain knight-errant whose fame by that time would +extend over the whole kingdom, and who would be called, if I remember +rightly, Don Azote or Don Gigote." + +"'Don Quixote,' he must have said, senora," observed Sancho at this, +"otherwise called the Knight of the Rueful Countenance." + +"That is it," said Dorothea; "he said, moreover, that he would be tall of +stature and lank featured; and that on his right side under the left +shoulder, or thereabouts, he would have a grey mole with hairs like +bristles." + +On hearing this, Don Quixote said to his squire, "Here, Sancho my son, +bear a hand and help me to strip, for I want to see if I am the knight +that sage king foretold." + +"What does your worship want to strip for?" said Dorothea. + +"To see if I have that mole your father spoke of," answered Don Quixote. + +"There is no occasion to strip," said Sancho; "for I know your worship +has just such a mole on the middle of your backbone, which is the mark of +a strong man." + +"That is enough," said Dorothea, "for with friends we must not look too +closely into trifles; and whether it be on the shoulder or on the +backbone matters little; it is enough if there is a mole, be it where it +may, for it is all the same flesh; no doubt my good father hit the truth +in every particular, and I have made a lucky hit in commending myself to +Don Quixote; for he is the one my father spoke of, as the features of his +countenance correspond with those assigned to this knight by that wide +fame he has acquired not only in Spain but in all La Mancha; for I had +scarcely landed at Osuna when I heard such accounts of his achievements, +that at once my heart told me he was the very one I had come in search +of." + +"But how did you land at Osuna, senora," asked Don Quixote, "when it is +not a seaport?" + +But before Dorothea could reply the curate anticipated her, saying, "The +princess meant to say that after she had landed at Malaga the first place +where she heard of your worship was Osuna." + +"That is what I meant to say," said Dorothea. + +"And that would be only natural," said the curate. "Will your majesty +please proceed?" + +"There is no more to add," said Dorothea, "save that in finding Don +Quixote I have had such good fortune, that I already reckon and regard +myself queen and mistress of my entire dominions, since of his courtesy +and magnanimity he has granted me the boon of accompanying me +whithersoever I may conduct him, which will be only to bring him face to +face with Pandafilando of the Scowl, that he may slay him and restore to +me what has been unjustly usurped by him: for all this must come to pass +satisfactorily since my good father Tinacrio the Sapient foretold it, who +likewise left it declared in writing in Chaldee or Greek characters (for +I cannot read them), that if this predicted knight, after having cut the +giant's throat, should be disposed to marry me I was to offer myself at +once without demur as his lawful wife, and yield him possession of my +kingdom together with my person." + +"What thinkest thou now, friend Sancho?" said Don Quixote at this. +"Hearest thou that? Did I not tell thee so? See how we have already got a +kingdom to govern and a queen to marry!" + +"On my oath it is so," said Sancho; "and foul fortune to him who won't +marry after slitting Senor Pandahilado's windpipe! And then, how +ill-favoured the queen is! I wish the fleas in my bed were that sort!" + +And so saying he cut a couple of capers in the air with every sign of +extreme satisfaction, and then ran to seize the bridle of Dorothea's +mule, and checking it fell on his knees before her, begging her to give +him her hand to kiss in token of his acknowledgment of her as his queen +and mistress. Which of the bystanders could have helped laughing to see +the madness of the master and the simplicity of the servant? Dorothea +therefore gave her hand, and promised to make him a great lord in her +kingdom, when Heaven should be so good as to permit her to recover and +enjoy it, for which Sancho returned thanks in words that set them all +laughing again. + +"This, sirs," continued Dorothea, "is my story; it only remains to tell +you that of all the attendants I took with me from my kingdom I have none +left except this well-bearded squire, for all were drowned in a great +tempest we encountered when in sight of port; and he and I came to land +on a couple of planks as if by a miracle; and indeed the whole course of +my life is a miracle and a mystery as you may have observed; and if I +have been over minute in any respect or not as precise as I ought, let it +be accounted for by what the licentiate said at the beginning of my tale, +that constant and excessive troubles deprive the sufferers of their +memory." + +"They shall not deprive me of mine, exalted and worthy princess," said +Don Quixote, "however great and unexampled those which I shall endure in +your service may be; and here I confirm anew the boon I have promised +you, and I swear to go with you to the end of the world until I find +myself in the presence of your fierce enemy, whose haughty head I trust +by the aid of my arm to cut off with the edge of this--I will not say +good sword, thanks to Gines de Pasamonte who carried away mine"--(this he +said between his teeth, and then continued), "and when it has been cut +off and you have been put in peaceful possession of your realm it shall +be left to your own decision to dispose of your person as may be most +pleasing to you; for so long as my memory is occupied, my will enslaved, +and my understanding enthralled by her-I say no more--it is impossible +for me for a moment to contemplate marriage, even with a Phoenix." + +The last words of his master about not wanting to marry were so +disagreeable to Sancho that raising his voice he exclaimed with great +irritation: + +"By my oath, Senor Don Quixote, you are not in your right senses; for how +can your worship possibly object to marrying such an exalted princess as +this? Do you think Fortune will offer you behind every stone such a piece +of luck as is offered you now? Is my lady Dulcinea fairer, perchance? Not +she; nor half as fair; and I will even go so far as to say she does not +come up to the shoe of this one here. A poor chance I have of getting +that county I am waiting for if your worship goes looking for dainties in +the bottom of the sea. In the devil's name, marry, marry, and take this +kingdom that comes to hand without any trouble, and when you are king +make me a marquis or governor of a province, and for the rest let the +devil take it all." + +Don Quixote, when he heard such blasphemies uttered against his lady +Dulcinea, could not endure it, and lifting his pike, without saying +anything to Sancho or uttering a word, he gave him two such thwacks that +he brought him to the ground; and had it not been that Dorothea cried out +to him to spare him he would have no doubt taken his life on the spot. + +"Do you think," he said to him after a pause, "you scurvy clown, that you +are to be always interfering with me, and that you are to be always +offending and I always pardoning? Don't fancy it, impious scoundrel, for +that beyond a doubt thou art, since thou hast set thy tongue going +against the peerless Dulcinea. Know you not, lout, vagabond, beggar, that +were it not for the might that she infuses into my arm I should not have +strength enough to kill a flea? Say, scoffer with a viper's tongue, what +think you has won this kingdom and cut off this giant's head and made you +a marquis (for all this I count as already accomplished and decided), but +the might of Dulcinea, employing my arm as the instrument of her +achievements? She fights in me and conquers in me, and I live and breathe +in her, and owe my life and being to her. O whoreson scoundrel, how +ungrateful you are, you see yourself raised from the dust of the earth to +be a titled lord, and the return you make for so great a benefit is to +speak evil of her who has conferred it upon you!" + +Sancho was not so stunned but that he heard all his master said, and +rising with some degree of nimbleness he ran to place himself behind +Dorothea's palfrey, and from that position he said to his master: + +"Tell me, senor; if your worship is resolved not to marry this great +princess, it is plain the kingdom will not be yours; and not being so, +how can you bestow favours upon me? That is what I complain of. Let your +worship at any rate marry this queen, now that we have got her here as if +showered down from heaven, and afterwards you may go back to my lady +Dulcinea; for there must have been kings in the world who kept +mistresses. As to beauty, I have nothing to do with it; and if the truth +is to be told, I like them both; though I have never seen the lady +Dulcinea." + +"How! never seen her, blasphemous traitor!" exclaimed Don Quixote; "hast +thou not just now brought me a message from her?" + +"I mean," said Sancho, "that I did not see her so much at my leisure that +I could take particular notice of her beauty, or of her charms piecemeal; +but taken in the lump I like her." + +"Now I forgive thee," said Don Quixote; "and do thou forgive me the +injury I have done thee; for our first impulses are not in our control." + +"That I see," replied Sancho, "and with me the wish to speak is always +the first impulse, and I cannot help saying, once at any rate, what I +have on the tip of my tongue." + +"For all that, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "take heed of what thou sayest, +for the pitcher goes so often to the well--I need say no more to thee." + +"Well, well," said Sancho, "God is in heaven, and sees all tricks, and +will judge who does most harm, I in not speaking right, or your worship +in not doing it." + +"That is enough," said Dorothea; "run, Sancho, and kiss your lord's hand +and beg his pardon, and henceforward be more circumspect with your praise +and abuse; and say nothing in disparagement of that lady Toboso, of whom +I know nothing save that I am her servant; and put your trust in God, for +you will not fail to obtain some dignity so as to live like a prince." + +Sancho advanced hanging his head and begged his master's hand, which Don +Quixote with dignity presented to him, giving him his blessing as soon as +he had kissed it; he then bade him go on ahead a little, as he had +questions to ask him and matters of great importance to discuss with him. +Sancho obeyed, and when the two had gone some distance in advance Don +Quixote said to him, "Since thy return I have had no opportunity or time +to ask thee many particulars touching thy mission and the answer thou +hast brought back, and now that chance has granted us the time and +opportunity, deny me not the happiness thou canst give me by such good +news." + +"Let your worship ask what you will," answered Sancho, "for I shall find +a way out of all as as I found a way in; but I implore you, senor, not +not to be so revengeful in future." + +"Why dost thou say that, Sancho?" said Don Quixote. + +"I say it," he returned, "because those blows just now were more because +of the quarrel the devil stirred up between us both the other night, than +for what I said against my lady Dulcinea, whom I love and reverence as I +would a relic--though there is nothing of that about her--merely as +something belonging to your worship." + +"Say no more on that subject for thy life, Sancho," said Don Quixote, +"for it is displeasing to me; I have already pardoned thee for that, and +thou knowest the common saying, 'for a fresh sin a fresh penance.'" + +While this was going on they saw coming along the road they were +following a man mounted on an ass, who when he came close seemed to be a +gipsy; but Sancho Panza, whose eyes and heart were there wherever he saw +asses, no sooner beheld the man than he knew him to be Gines de +Pasamonte; and by the thread of the gipsy he got at the ball, his ass, +for it was, in fact, Dapple that carried Pasamonte, who to escape +recognition and to sell the ass had disguised himself as a gipsy, being +able to speak the gipsy language, and many more, as well as if they were +his own. Sancho saw him and recognised him, and the instant he did so he +shouted to him, "Ginesillo, you thief, give up my treasure, release my +life, embarrass thyself not with my repose, quit my ass, leave my +delight, be off, rip, get thee gone, thief, and give up what is not +thine." + +There was no necessity for so many words or objurgations, for at the +first one Gines jumped down, and at a like racing speed made off and got +clear of them all. Sancho hastened to his Dapple, and embracing him he +said, "How hast thou fared, my blessing, Dapple of my eyes, my comrade?" +all the while kissing him and caressing him as if he were a human being. +The ass held his peace, and let himself be kissed and caressed by Sancho +without answering a single word. They all came up and congratulated him +on having found Dapple, Don Quixote especially, who told him that +notwithstanding this he would not cancel the order for the three +ass-colts, for which Sancho thanked him. + +While the two had been going along conversing in this fashion, the curate +observed to Dorothea that she had shown great cleverness, as well in the +story itself as in its conciseness, and the resemblance it bore to those +of the books of chivalry. She said that she had many times amused herself +reading them; but that she did not know the situation of the provinces or +seaports, and so she had said at haphazard that she had landed at Osuna. + +"So I saw," said the curate, "and for that reason I made haste to say +what I did, by which it was all set right. But is it not a strange thing +to see how readily this unhappy gentleman believes all these figments and +lies, simply because they are in the style and manner of the absurdities +of his books?" + +"So it is," said Cardenio; "and so uncommon and unexampled, that were one +to attempt to invent and concoct it in fiction, I doubt if there be any +wit keen enough to imagine it." + +"But another strange thing about it," said the curate, "is that, apart +from the silly things which this worthy gentleman says in connection with +his craze, when other subjects are dealt with, he can discuss them in a +perfectly rational manner, showing that his mind is quite clear and +composed; so that, provided his chivalry is not touched upon, no one +would take him to be anything but a man of thoroughly sound +understanding." + +While they were holding this conversation Don Quixote continued his with +Sancho, saying: + +"Friend Panza, let us forgive and forget as to our quarrels, and tell me +now, dismissing anger and irritation, where, how, and when didst thou +find Dulcinea? What was she doing? What didst thou say to her? What did +she answer? How did she look when she was reading my letter? Who copied +it out for thee? and everything in the matter that seems to thee worth +knowing, asking, and learning; neither adding nor falsifying to give me +pleasure, nor yet curtailing lest you should deprive me of it." + +"Senor," replied Sancho, "if the truth is to be told, nobody copied out +the letter for me, for I carried no letter at all." + +"It is as thou sayest," said Don Quixote, "for the note-book in which I +wrote it I found in my own possession two days after thy departure, which +gave me very great vexation, as I knew not what thou wouldst do on +finding thyself without any letter; and I made sure thou wouldst return +from the place where thou didst first miss it." + +"So I should have done," said Sancho, "if I had not got it by heart when +your worship read it to me, so that I repeated it to a sacristan, who +copied it out for me from hearing it, so exactly that he said in all the +days of his life, though he had read many a letter of excommunication, he +had never seen or read so pretty a letter as that." + +"And hast thou got it still in thy memory, Sancho?" said Don Quixote. + +"No, senor," replied Sancho, "for as soon as I had repeated it, seeing +there was no further use for it, I set about forgetting it; and if I +recollect any of it, it is that about 'Scrubbing,'I mean to say +'Sovereign Lady,' and the end 'Yours till death, the Knight of the Rueful +Countenance;' and between these two I put into it more than three hundred +'my souls' and 'my life's' and 'my eyes." + +Chapter XXXI. - +Of the delectable discussion between Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, his +squire, together with other incidents + +"All that is not unsatisfactory to me," said Don Quixote. "Go on; thou +didst reach her; and what was that queen of beauty doing? Surely thou +didst find her stringing pearls, or embroidering some device in gold +thread for this her enslaved knight." + +"I did not," said Sancho, "but I found her winnowing two bushels of wheat +in the yard of her house." + +"Then depend upon it," said Don Quixote, "the grains of that wheat were +pearls when touched by her hands; and didst thou look, friend? was it +white wheat or brown?" + +"It was neither, but red," said Sancho. + +"Then I promise thee," said Don Quixote, "that, winnowed by her hands, +beyond a doubt the bread it made was of the whitest; but go on; when thou +gavest her my letter, did she kiss it? Did she place it on her head? Did +she perform any ceremony befitting it, or what did she do?" + +"When I went to give it to her," replied Sancho, "she was hard at it +swaying from side to side with a lot of wheat she had in the sieve, and +she said to me, 'Lay the letter, friend, on the top of that sack, for I +cannot read it until I have done sifting all this." + +"Discreet lady!" said Don Quixote; "that was in order to read it at her +leisure and enjoy it; proceed, Sancho; while she was engaged in her +occupation what converse did she hold with thee? What did she ask about +me, and what answer didst thou give? Make haste; tell me all, and let not +an atom be left behind in the ink-bottle." + +"She asked me nothing," said Sancho; "but I told her how your worship was +left doing penance in her service, naked from the waist up, in among +these mountains like a savage, sleeping on the ground, not eating bread +off a tablecloth nor combing your beard, weeping and cursing your +fortune." + +"In saying I cursed my fortune thou saidst wrong," said Don Quixote; "for +rather do I bless it and shall bless it all the days of my life for +having made me worthy of aspiring to love so lofty a lady as Dulcinea del +Toboso." + +"And so lofty she is," said Sancho, "that she overtops me by more than a +hand's-breadth." + +"What! Sancho," said Don Quixote, "didst thou measure with her?" + +"I measured in this way," said Sancho; "going to help her to put a sack +of wheat on the back of an ass, we came so close together that I could +see she stood more than a good palm over me." + +"Well!" said Don Quixote, "and doth she not of a truth accompany and +adorn this greatness with a thousand million charms of mind! But one +thing thou wilt not deny, Sancho; when thou camest close to her didst +thou not perceive a Sabaean odour, an aromatic fragrance, a, I know not +what, delicious, that I cannot find a name for; I mean a redolence, an +exhalation, as if thou wert in the shop of some dainty glover?" + +"All I can say is," said Sancho, "that I did perceive a little odour, +something goaty; it must have been that she was all in a sweat with hard +work." + +"It could not be that," said Don Quixote, "but thou must have been +suffering from cold in the head, or must have smelt thyself; for I know +well what would be the scent of that rose among thorns, that lily of the +field, that dissolved amber." + +"Maybe so," replied Sancho; "there often comes from myself that same +odour which then seemed to me to come from her grace the lady Dulcinea; +but that's no wonder, for one devil is like another." + +"Well then," continued Don Quixote, "now she has done sifting the corn +and sent it to the mill; what did she do when she read the letter?" + +"As for the letter," said Sancho, "she did not read it, for she said she +could neither read nor write; instead of that she tore it up into small +pieces, saying that she did not want to let anyone read it lest her +secrets should become known in the village, and that what I had told her +by word of mouth about the love your worship bore her, and the +extraordinary penance you were doing for her sake, was enough; and, to +make an end of it, she told me to tell your worship that she kissed your +hands, and that she had a greater desire to see you than to write to you; +and that therefore she entreated and commanded you, on sight of this +present, to come out of these thickets, and to have done with carrying on +absurdities, and to set out at once for El Toboso, unless something else +of greater importance should happen, for she had a great desire to see +your worship. She laughed greatly when I told her how your worship was +called The Knight of the Rueful Countenance; I asked her if that Biscayan +the other day had been there; and she told me he had, and that he was an +honest fellow; I asked her too about the galley slaves, but she said she +had not seen any as yet." + +"So far all goes well," said Don Quixote; "but tell me what jewel was it +that she gave thee on taking thy leave, in return for thy tidings of me? +For it is a usual and ancient custom with knights and ladies errant to +give the squires, damsels, or dwarfs who bring tidings of their ladies to +the knights, or of their knights to the ladies, some rich jewel as a +guerdon for good news,' and acknowledgment of the message." + +"That is very likely," said Sancho, "and a good custom it was, to my +mind; but that must have been in days gone by, for now it would seem to +be the custom only to give a piece of bread and cheese; because that was +what my lady Dulcinea gave me over the top of the yard-wall when I took +leave of her; and more by token it was sheep's-milk cheese." + +"She is generous in the extreme," said Don Quixote, "and if she did not +give thee a jewel of gold, no doubt it must have been because she had not +one to hand there to give thee; but sleeves are good after Easter; I +shall see her and all shall be made right. But knowest thou what amazes +me, Sancho? It seems to me thou must have gone and come through the air, +for thou hast taken but little more than three days to go to El Toboso +and return, though it is more than thirty leagues from here to there. +From which I am inclined to think that the sage magician who is my +friend, and watches over my interests (for of necessity there is and must +be one, or else I should not be a right knight-errant), that this same, I +say, must have helped thee to travel without thy knowledge; for some of +these sages will catch up a knight-errant sleeping in his bed, and +without his knowing how or in what way it happened, he wakes up the next +day more than a thousand leagues away from the place where he went to +sleep. And if it were not for this, knights-errant would not be able to +give aid to one another in peril, as they do at every turn. For a knight, +maybe, is fighting in the mountains of Armenia with some dragon, or +fierce serpent, or another knight, and gets the worst of the battle, and +is at the point of death; but when he least looks for it, there appears +over against him on a cloud, or chariot of fire, another knight, a friend +of his, who just before had been in England, and who takes his part, and +delivers him from death; and at night he finds himself in his own +quarters supping very much to his satisfaction; and yet from one place to +the other will have been two or three thousand leagues. And all this is +done by the craft and skill of the sage enchanters who take care of those +valiant knights; so that, friend Sancho, I find no difficulty in +believing that thou mayest have gone from this place to El Toboso and +returned in such a short time, since, as I have said, some friendly sage +must have carried thee through the air without thee perceiving it." + +"That must have been it," said Sancho, "for indeed Rocinante went like a +gipsy's ass with quicksilver in his ears." + +"Quicksilver!" said Don Quixote, "aye and what is more, a legion of +devils, folk that can travel and make others travel without being weary, +exactly as the whim seizes them. But putting this aside, what thinkest +thou I ought to do about my lady's command to go and see her? For though +I feel that I am bound to obey her mandate, I feel too that I am debarred +by the boon I have accorded to the princess that accompanies us, and the +law of chivalry compels me to have regard for my word in preference to my +inclination; on the one hand the desire to see my lady pursues and +harasses me, on the other my solemn promise and the glory I shall win in +this enterprise urge and call me; but what I think I shall do is to +travel with all speed and reach quickly the place where this giant is, +and on my arrival I shall cut off his head, and establish the princess +peacefully in her realm, and forthwith I shall return to behold the light +that lightens my senses, to whom I shall make such excuses that she will +be led to approve of my delay, for she will see that it entirely tends to +increase her glory and fame; for all that I have won, am winning, or +shall win by arms in this life, comes to me of the favour she extends to +me, and because I am hers." + +"Ah! what a sad state your worship's brains are in!" said Sancho. "Tell +me, senor, do you mean to travel all that way for nothing, and to let +slip and lose so rich and great a match as this where they give as a +portion a kingdom that in sober truth I have heard say is more than +twenty thousand leagues round about, and abounds with all things +necessary to support human life, and is bigger than Portugal and Castile +put together? Peace, for the love of God! Blush for what you have said, +and take my advice, and forgive me, and marry at once in the first +village where there is a curate; if not, here is our licentiate who will +do the business beautifully; remember, I am old enough to give advice, +and this I am giving comes pat to the purpose; for a sparrow in the hand +is better than a vulture on the wing, and he who has the good to his hand +and chooses the bad, that the good he complains of may not come to him." + +"Look here, Sancho," said Don Quixote. "If thou art advising me to marry, +in order that immediately on slaying the giant I may become king, and be +able to confer favours on thee, and give thee what I have promised, let +me tell thee I shall be able very easily to satisfy thy desires without +marrying; for before going into battle I will make it a stipulation that, +if I come out of it victorious, even I do not marry, they shall give me a +portion portion of the kingdom, that I may bestow it upon whomsoever I +choose, and when they give it to me upon whom wouldst thou have me bestow +it but upon thee?" + +"That is plain speaking," said Sancho; "but let your worship take care to +choose it on the seacoast, so that if I don't like the life, I may be +able to ship off my black vassals and deal with them as I have said; +don't mind going to see my lady Dulcinea now, but go and kill this giant +and let us finish off this business; for by God it strikes me it will be +one of great honour and great profit." + +"I hold thou art in the right of it, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and I +will take thy advice as to accompanying the princess before going to see +Dulcinea; but I counsel thee not to say anything to any one, or to those +who are with us, about what we have considered and discussed, for as +Dulcinea is so decorous that she does not wish her thoughts to be known +it is not right that I or anyone for me should disclose them." + +"Well then, if that be so," said Sancho, "how is it that your worship +makes all those you overcome by your arm go to present themselves before +my lady Dulcinea, this being the same thing as signing your name to it +that you love her and are her lover? And as those who go must perforce +kneel before her and say they come from your worship to submit themselves +to her, how can the thoughts of both of you be hid?" + +"O, how silly and simple thou art!" said Don Quixote; "seest thou not, +Sancho, that this tends to her greater exaltation? For thou must know +that according to our way of thinking in chivalry, it is a high honour to +a lady to have many knights-errant in her service, whose thoughts never +go beyond serving her for her own sake, and who look for no other reward +for their great and true devotion than that she should be willing to +accept them as her knights." + +"It is with that kind of love," said Sancho, "I have heard preachers say +we ought to love our Lord, for himself alone, without being moved by the +hope of glory or the fear of punishment; though for my part, I would +rather love and serve him for what he could do." + +"The devil take thee for a clown!" said Don Quixote, "and what shrewd +things thou sayest at times! One would think thou hadst studied." + +"In faith, then, I cannot even read." + +Master Nicholas here called out to them to wait a while, as they wanted +to halt and drink at a little spring there was there. Don Quixote drew +up, not a little to the satisfaction of Sancho, for he was by this time +weary of telling so many lies, and in dread of his master catching him +tripping, for though he knew that Dulcinea was a peasant girl of El +Toboso, he had never seen her in all his life. Cardenio had now put on +the clothes which Dorothea was wearing when they found her, and though +they were not very good, they were far better than those he put off. They +dismounted together by the side of the spring, and with what the curate +had provided himself with at the inn they appeased, though not very well, +the keen appetite they all of them brought with them. + +While they were so employed there happened to come by a youth passing on +his way, who stopping to examine the party at the spring, the next moment +ran to Don Quixote and clasping him round the legs, began to weep freely, +saying, "O, senor, do you not know me? Look at me well; I am that lad +Andres that your worship released from the oak-tree where I was tied." + +Don Quixote recognised him, and taking his hand he turned to those +present and said: "That your worships may see how important it is to have +knights-errant to redress the wrongs and injuries done by tyrannical and +wicked men in this world, I may tell you that some days ago passing +through a wood, I heard cries and piteous complaints as of a person in +pain and distress; I immediately hastened, impelled by my bounden duty, +to the quarter whence the plaintive accents seemed to me to proceed, and +I found tied to an oak this lad who now stands before you, which in my +heart I rejoice at, for his testimony will not permit me to depart from +the truth in any particular. He was, I say, tied to an oak, naked from +the waist up, and a clown, whom I afterwards found to be his master, was +scarifying him by lashes with the reins of his mare. As soon as I saw him +I asked the reason of so cruel a flagellation. The boor replied that he +was flogging him because he was his servant and because of carelessness +that proceeded rather from dishonesty than stupidity; on which this boy +said, 'Senor, he flogs me only because I ask for my wages.' The master +made I know not what speeches and explanations, which, though I listened +to them, I did not accept. In short, I compelled the clown to unbind him, +and to swear he would take him with him, and pay him real by real, and +perfumed into the bargain. Is not all this true, Andres my son? Didst +thou not mark with what authority I commanded him, and with what humility +he promised to do all I enjoined, specified, and required of him? Answer +without hesitation; tell these gentlemen what took place, that they may +see that it is as great an advantage as I say to have knights-errant +abroad." + +"All that your worship has said is quite true," answered the lad; "but +the end of the business turned out just the opposite of what your worship +supposes." + +"How! the opposite?" said Don Quixote; "did not the clown pay thee then?" + +"Not only did he not pay me," replied the lad, "but as soon as your +worship had passed out of the wood and we were alone, he tied me up again +to the same oak and gave me a fresh flogging, that left me like a flayed +Saint Bartholomew; and every stroke he gave me he followed up with some +jest or gibe about having made a fool of your worship, and but for the +pain I was suffering I should have laughed at the things he said. In +short he left me in such a condition that I have been until now in a +hospital getting cured of the injuries which that rascally clown +inflicted on me then; for all which your worship is to blame; for if you +had gone your own way and not come where there was no call for you, nor +meddled in other people's affairs, my master would have been content with +giving me one or two dozen lashes, and would have then loosed me and paid +me what he owed me; but when your worship abused him so out of measure, +and gave him so many hard words, his anger was kindled; and as he could +not revenge himself on you, as soon as he saw you had left him the storm +burst upon me in such a way, that I feel as if I should never be a man +again." + +"The mischief," said Don Quixote, "lay in my going away; for I should not +have gone until I had seen thee paid; because I ought to have known well +by long experience that there is no clown who will keep his word if he +finds it will not suit him to keep it; but thou rememberest, Andres, that +I swore if he did not pay thee I would go and seek him, and find him +though he were to hide himself in the whale's belly." + +"That is true," said Andres; "but it was of no use." + +"Thou shalt see now whether it is of use or not," said Don Quixote; and +so saying, he got up hastily and bade Sancho bridle Rocinante, who was +browsing while they were eating. Dorothea asked him what he meant to do. +He replied that he meant to go in search of this clown and chastise him +for such iniquitous conduct, and see Andres paid to the last maravedi, +despite and in the teeth of all the clowns in the world. To which she +replied that he must remember that in accordance with his promise he +could not engage in any enterprise until he had concluded hers; and that +as he knew this better than anyone, he should restrain his ardour until +his return from her kingdom. + +"That is true," said Don Quixote, "and Andres must have patience until my +return as you say, senora; but I once more swear and promise not to stop +until I have seen him avenged and paid." + +"I have no faith in those oaths," said Andres; "I would rather have now +something to help me to get to Seville than all the revenges in the +world; if you have here anything to eat that I can take with me, give it +me, and God be with your worship and all knights-errant; and may their +errands turn out as well for themselves as they have for me." + +Sancho took out from his store a piece of bread and another of cheese, +and giving them to the lad he said, "Here, take this, brother Andres, for +we have all of us a share in your misfortune." + +"Why, what share have you got?" + +"This share of bread and cheese I am giving you," answered Sancho; "and +God knows whether I shall feel the want of it myself or not; for I would +have you know, friend, that we squires to knights-errant have to bear a +great deal of hunger and hard fortune, and even other things more easily +felt than told." + +Andres seized his bread and cheese, and seeing that nobody gave him +anything more, bent his head, and took hold of the road, as the saying +is. However, before leaving he said, "For the love of God, sir +knight-errant, if you ever meet me again, though you may see them cutting +me to pieces, give me no aid or succour, but leave me to my misfortune, +which will not be so great but that a greater will come to me by being +helped by your worship, on whom and all the knights-errant that have ever +been born God send his curse." + +Don Quixote was getting up to chastise him, but he took to his heels at +such a pace that no one attempted to follow him; and mightily chapfallen +was Don Quixote at Andres' story, and the others had to take great care +to restrain their laughter so as not to put him entirely out of +countenance. + +Chapter XXXII. - +Which treats of what befell Don Quixote's party at the inn + +Their dainty repast being finished, they saddled at once, and without any +adventure worth mentioning they reached next day the inn, the object of +Sancho Panza's fear and dread; but though he would have rather not +entered it, there was no help for it. The landlady, the landlord, their +daughter, and Maritornes, when they saw Don Quixote and Sancho coming, +went out to welcome them with signs of hearty satisfaction, which Don +Quixote received with dignity and gravity, and bade them make up a better +bed for him than the last time: to which the landlady replied that if he +paid better than he did the last time she would give him one fit for a +prince. Don Quixote said he would, so they made up a tolerable one for +him in the same garret as before; and he lay down at once, being sorely +shaken and in want of sleep. + +No sooner was the door shut upon him than the landlady made at the +barber, and seizing him by the beard, said: + +"By my faith you are not going to make a beard of my tail any longer; you +must give me back tail, for it is a shame the way that thing of my +husband's goes tossing about on the floor; I mean the comb that I used to +stick in my good tail." + +But for all she tugged at it the barber would not give it up until the +licentiate told him to let her have it, as there was now no further +occasion for that stratagem, because he might declare himself and appear +in his own character, and tell Don Quixote that he had fled to this inn +when those thieves the galley slaves robbed him; and should he ask for +the princess's squire, they could tell him that she had sent him on +before her to give notice to the people of her kingdom that she was +coming, and bringing with her the deliverer of them all. On this the +barber cheerfully restored the tail to the landlady, and at the same time +they returned all the accessories they had borrowed to effect Don +Quixote's deliverance. All the people of the inn were struck with +astonishment at the beauty of Dorothea, and even at the comely figure of +the shepherd Cardenio. The curate made them get ready such fare as there +was in the inn, and the landlord, in hope of better payment, served them +up a tolerably good dinner. All this time Don Quixote was asleep, and +they thought it best not to waken him, as sleeping would now do him more +good than eating. + +While at dinner, the company consisting of the landlord, his wife, their +daughter, Maritornes, and all the travellers, they discussed the strange +craze of Don Quixote and the manner in which he had been found; and the +landlady told them what had taken place between him and the carrier; and +then, looking round to see if Sancho was there, when she saw he was not, +she gave them the whole story of his blanketing, which they received with +no little amusement. But on the curate observing that it was the books of +chivalry which Don Quixote had read that had turned his brain, the +landlord said: + +"I cannot understand how that can be, for in truth to my mind there is no +better reading in the world, and I have here two or three of them, with +other writings that are the very life, not only of myself but of plenty +more; for when it is harvest-time, the reapers flock here on holidays, +and there is always one among them who can read and who takes up one of +these books, and we gather round him, thirty or more of us, and stay +listening to him with a delight that makes our grey hairs grow young +again. At least I can say for myself that when I hear of what furious and +terrible blows the knights deliver, I am seized with the longing to do +the same, and I would like to be hearing about them night and day." + +"And I just as much," said the landlady, "because I never have a quiet +moment in my house except when you are listening to some one reading; for +then you are so taken up that for the time being you forget to scold." + +"That is true," said Maritornes; "and, faith, I relish hearing these +things greatly too, for they are very pretty; especially when they +describe some lady or another in the arms of her knight under the orange +trees, and the duenna who is keeping watch for them half dead with envy +and fright; all this I say is as good as honey." + +"And you, what do you think, young lady?" said the curate turning to the +landlord's daughter. + +"I don't know indeed, senor," said she; "I listen too, and to tell the +truth, though I do not understand it, I like hearing it; but it is not +the blows that my father likes that I like, but the laments the knights +utter when they are separated from their ladies; and indeed they +sometimes make me weep with the pity I feel for them." + +"Then you would console them if it was for you they wept, young lady?" +said Dorothea. + +"I don't know what I should do," said the girl; "I only know that there +are some of those ladies so cruel that they call their knights tigers and +lions and a thousand other foul names: and Jesus! I don't know what sort +of folk they can be, so unfeeling and heartless, that rather than bestow +a glance upon a worthy man they leave him to die or go mad. I don't know +what is the good of such prudery; if it is for honour's sake, why not +marry them? That's all they want." + +"Hush, child," said the landlady; "it seems to me thou knowest a great +deal about these things, and it is not fit for girls to know or talk so +much." + +"As the gentleman asked me, I could not help answering him," said the +girl. + +"Well then," said the curate, "bring me these books, senor landlord, for +I should like to see them." + +"With all my heart," said he, and going into his own room he brought out +an old valise secured with a little chain, on opening which the curate +found in it three large books and some manuscripts written in a very good +hand. The first that he opened he found to be "Don Cirongilio of Thrace," +and the second "Don Felixmarte of Hircania," and the other the "History +of the Great Captain Gonzalo Hernandez de Cordova, with the Life of Diego +Garcia de Paredes." + +When the curate read the two first titles he looked over at the barber +and said, "We want my friend's housekeeper and niece here now." + +"Nay," said the barber, "I can do just as well to carry them to the yard +or to the hearth, and there is a very good fire there." + +"What! your worship would burn my books!" said the landlord. + +"Only these two," said the curate, "Don Cirongilio, and Felixmarte." + +"Are my books, then, heretics or phlegmaties that you want to burn them?" +said the landlord. + +"Schismatics you mean, friend," said the barber, "not phlegmatics." + +"That's it," said the landlord; "but if you want to burn any, let it be +that about the Great Captain and that Diego Garcia; for I would rather +have a child of mine burnt than either of the others." + +"Brother," said the curate, "those two books are made up of lies, and are +full of folly and nonsense; but this of the Great Captain is a true +history, and contains the deeds of Gonzalo Hernandez of Cordova, who by +his many and great achievements earned the title all over the world of +the Great Captain, a famous and illustrious name, and deserved by him +alone; and this Diego Garcia de Paredes was a distinguished knight of the +city of Trujillo in Estremadura, a most gallant soldier, and of such +bodily strength that with one finger he stopped a mill-wheel in full +motion; and posted with a two-handed sword at the foot of a bridge he +kept the whole of an immense army from passing over it, and achieved such +other exploits that if, instead of his relating them himself with the +modesty of a knight and of one writing his own history, some free and +unbiassed writer had recorded them, they would have thrown into the shade +all the deeds of the Hectors, Achilleses, and Rolands." + +"Tell that to my father," said the landlord. "There's a thing to be +astonished at! Stopping a mill-wheel! By God your worship should read +what I have read of Felixmarte of Hircania, how with one single +backstroke he cleft five giants asunder through the middle as if they had +been made of bean-pods like the little friars the children make; and +another time he attacked a very great and powerful army, in which there +were more than a million six hundred thousand soldiers, all armed from +head to foot, and he routed them all as if they had been flocks of sheep. + +"And then, what do you say to the good Cirongilio of Thrace, that was so +stout and bold; as may be seen in the book, where it is related that as +he was sailing along a river there came up out of the midst of the water +against him a fiery serpent, and he, as soon as he saw it, flung himself +upon it and got astride of its scaly shoulders, and squeezed its throat +with both hands with such force that the serpent, finding he was +throttling it, had nothing for it but to let itself sink to the bottom of +the river, carrying with it the knight who would not let go his hold; and +when they got down there he found himself among palaces and gardens so +pretty that it was a wonder to see; and then the serpent changed itself +into an old ancient man, who told him such things as were never heard. +Hold your peace, senor; for if you were to hear this you would go mad +with delight. A couple of figs for your Great Captain and your Diego +Garcia!" + +Hearing this Dorothea said in a whisper to Cardenio, "Our landlord is +almost fit to play a second part to Don Quixote." + +"I think so," said Cardenio, "for, as he shows, he accepts it as a +certainty that everything those books relate took place exactly as it is +written down; and the barefooted friars themselves would not persuade him +to the contrary." + +"But consider, brother," said the curate once more, "there never was any +Felixmarte of Hircania in the world, nor any Cirongilio of Thrace, or any +of the other knights of the same sort, that the books of chivalry talk +of; the whole thing is the fabrication and invention of idle wits, +devised by them for the purpose you describe of beguiling the time, as +your reapers do when they read; for I swear to you in all seriousness +there never were any such knights in the world, and no such exploits or +nonsense ever happened anywhere." + +"Try that bone on another dog," said the landlord; "as if I did not know +how many make five, and where my shoe pinches me; don't think to feed me +with pap, for by God I am no fool. It is a good joke for your worship to +try and persuade me that everything these good books say is nonsense and +lies, and they printed by the license of the Lords of the Royal Council, +as if they were people who would allow such a lot of lies to be printed +all together, and so many battles and enchantments that they take away +one's senses." + +"I have told you, friend," said the curate, "that this is done to divert +our idle thoughts; and as in well-ordered states games of chess, fives, +and billiards are allowed for the diversion of those who do not care, or +are not obliged, or are unable to work, so books of this kind are allowed +to be printed, on the supposition that, what indeed is the truth, there +can be nobody so ignorant as to take any of them for true stories; and if +it were permitted me now, and the present company desired it, I could say +something about the qualities books of chivalry should possess to be good +ones, that would be to the advantage and even to the taste of some; but I +hope the time will come when I can communicate my ideas to some one who +may be able to mend matters; and in the meantime, senor landlord, believe +what I have said, and take your books, and make up your mind about their +truth or falsehood, and much good may they do you; and God grant you may +not fall lame of the same foot your guest Don Quixote halts on." + +"No fear of that," returned the landlord; "I shall not be so mad as to +make a knight-errant of myself; for I see well enough that things are not +now as they used to be in those days, when they say those famous knights +roamed about the world." + +Sancho had made his appearance in the middle of this conversation, and he +was very much troubled and cast down by what he heard said about +knights-errant being now no longer in vogue, and all books of chivalry +being folly and lies; and he resolved in his heart to wait and see what +came of this journey of his master's, and if it did not turn out as +happily as his master expected, he determined to leave him and go back to +his wife and children and his ordinary labour. + +The landlord was carrying away the valise and the books, but the curate +said to him, "Wait; I want to see what those papers are that are written +in such a good hand." The landlord taking them out handed them to him to +read, and he perceived they were a work of about eight sheets of +manuscript, with, in large letters at the beginning, the title of "Novel +of the Ill-advised Curiosity." The curate read three or four lines to +himself, and said, "I must say the title of this novel does not seem to +me a bad one, and I feel an inclination to read it all." To which the +landlord replied, "Then your reverence will do well to read it, for I can +tell you that some guests who have read it here have been much pleased +with it, and have begged it of me very earnestly; but I would not give +it, meaning to return it to the person who forgot the valise, books, and +papers here, for maybe he will return here some time or other; and though +I know I shall miss the books, faith I mean to return them; for though I +am an innkeeper, still I am a Christian." + +"You are very right, friend," said the curate; "but for all that, if the +novel pleases me you must let me copy it." + +"With all my heart," replied the host. + +While they were talking Cardenio had taken up the novel and begun to read +it, and forming the same opinion of it as the curate, he begged him to +read it so that they might all hear it. + +"I would read it," said the curate, "if the time would not be better +spent in sleeping." + +"It will be rest enough for me," said Dorothea, "to while away the time +by listening to some tale, for my spirits are not yet tranquil enough to +let me sleep when it would be seasonable." + +"Well then, in that case," said the curate, "I will read it, if it were +only out of curiosity; perhaps it may contain something pleasant." + +Master Nicholas added his entreaties to the same effect, and Sancho too; +seeing which, and considering that he would give pleasure to all, and +receive it himself, the curate said, "Well then, attend to me everyone, +for the novel begins thus." + +Chapter XXXIII. - +In which is related the novel of "the ill-advised curiosity" + +In Florence, a rich and famous city of Italy in the province called +Tuscany, there lived two gentlemen of wealth and quality, Anselmo and +Lothario, such great friends that by way of distinction they were called +by all that knew them "The Two Friends." They were unmarried, young, of +the same age and of the same tastes, which was enough to account for the +reciprocal friendship between them. Anselmo, it is true, was somewhat +more inclined to seek pleasure in love than Lothario, for whom the +pleasures of the chase had more attraction; but on occasion Anselmo would +forego his own tastes to yield to those of Lothario, and Lothario would +surrender his to fall in with those of Anselmo, and in this way their +inclinations kept pace one with the other with a concord so perfect that +the best regulated clock could not surpass it. + +Anselmo was deep in love with a high-born and beautiful maiden of the +same city, the daughter of parents so estimable, and so estimable +herself, that he resolved, with the approval of his friend Lothario, +without whom he did nothing, to ask her of them in marriage, and did so, +Lothario being the bearer of the demand, and conducting the negotiation +so much to the satisfaction of his friend that in a short time he was in +possession of the object of his desires, and Camilla so happy in having +won Anselmo for her husband, that she gave thanks unceasingly to heaven +and to Lothario, by whose means such good fortune had fallen to her. The +first few days, those of a wedding being usually days of merry-making, +Lothario frequented his friend Anselmo's house as he had been wont, +striving to do honour to him and to the occasion, and to gratify him in +every way he could; but when the wedding days were over and the +succession of visits and congratulations had slackened, he began +purposely to leave off going to the house of Anselmo, for it seemed to +him, as it naturally would to all men of sense, that friends' houses +ought not to be visited after marriage with the same frequency as in +their masters' bachelor days: because, though true and genuine friendship +cannot and should not be in any way suspicious, still a married man's +honour is a thing of such delicacy that it is held liable to injury from +brothers, much more from friends. Anselmo remarked the cessation of +Lothario's visits, and complained of it to him, saying that if he had +known that marriage was to keep him from enjoying his society as he used, +he would have never married; and that, if by the thorough harmony that +subsisted between them while he was a bachelor they had earned such a +sweet name as that of "The Two Friends," he should not allow a title so +rare and so delightful to be lost through a needless anxiety to act +circumspectly; and so he entreated him, if such a phrase was allowable +between them, to be once more master of his house and to come in and go +out as formerly, assuring him that his wife Camilla had no other desire +or inclination than that which he would wish her to have, and that +knowing how sincerely they loved one another she was grieved to see such +coldness in him. + +To all this and much more that Anselmo said to Lothario to persuade him +to come to his house as he had been in the habit of doing, Lothario +replied with so much prudence, sense, and judgment, that Anselmo was +satisfied of his friend's good intentions, and it was agreed that on two +days in the week, and on holidays, Lothario should come to dine with him; +but though this arrangement was made between them Lothario resolved to +observe it no further than he considered to be in accordance with the +honour of his friend, whose good name was more to him than his own. He +said, and justly, that a married man upon whom heaven had bestowed a +beautiful wife should consider as carefully what friends he brought to +his house as what female friends his wife associated with, for what +cannot be done or arranged in the market-place, in church, at public +festivals or at stations (opportunities that husbands cannot always deny +their wives), may be easily managed in the house of the female friend or +relative in whom most confidence is reposed. Lothario said, too, that +every married man should have some friend who would point out to him any +negligence he might be guilty of in his conduct, for it will sometimes +happen that owing to the deep affection the husband bears his wife either +he does not caution her, or, not to vex her, refrains from telling her to +do or not to do certain things, doing or avoiding which may be a matter +of honour or reproach to him; and errors of this kind he could easily +correct if warned by a friend. But where is such a friend to be found as +Lothario would have, so judicious, so loyal, and so true? + +Of a truth I know not; Lothario alone was such a one, for with the utmost +care and vigilance he watched over the honour of his friend, and strove +to diminish, cut down, and reduce the number of days for going to his +house according to their agreement, lest the visits of a young man, +wealthy, high-born, and with the attractions he was conscious of +possessing, at the house of a woman so beautiful as Camilla, should be +regarded with suspicion by the inquisitive and malicious eyes of the idle +public. For though his integrity and reputation might bridle slanderous +tongues, still he was unwilling to hazard either his own good name or +that of his friend; and for this reason most of the days agreed upon he +devoted to some other business which he pretended was unavoidable; so +that a great portion of the day was taken up with complaints on one side +and excuses on the other. It happened, however, that on one occasion when +the two were strolling together outside the city, Anselmo addressed the +following words to Lothario. + +"Thou mayest suppose, Lothario my friend, that I am unable to give +sufficient thanks for the favours God has rendered me in making me the +son of such parents as mine were, and bestowing upon me with no niggard +hand what are called the gifts of nature as well as those of fortune, and +above all for what he has done in giving me thee for a friend and Camilla +for a wife--two treasures that I value, if not as highly as I ought, at +least as highly as I am able. And yet, with all these good things, which +are commonly all that men need to enable them to live happily, I am the +most discontented and dissatisfied man in the whole world; for, I know +not how long since, I have been harassed and oppressed by a desire so +strange and so unusual, that I wonder at myself and blame and chide +myself when I am alone, and strive to stifle it and hide it from my own +thoughts, and with no better success than if I were endeavouring +deliberately to publish it to all the world; and as, in short, it must +come out, I would confide it to thy safe keeping, feeling sure that by +this means, and by thy readiness as a true friend to afford me relief, I +shall soon find myself freed from the distress it causes me, and that thy +care will give me happiness in the same degree as my own folly has caused +me misery." + +The words of Anselmo struck Lothario with astonishment, unable as he was +to conjecture the purport of such a lengthy preamble; and though be +strove to imagine what desire it could be that so troubled his friend, +his conjectures were all far from the truth, and to relieve the anxiety +which this perplexity was causing him, he told him he was doing a +flagrant injustice to their great friendship in seeking circuitous +methods of confiding to him his most hidden thoughts, for he well knew he +might reckon upon his counsel in diverting them, or his help in carrying +them into effect. + +"That is the truth," replied Anselmo, "and relying upon that I will tell +thee, friend Lothario, that the desire which harasses me is that of +knowing whether my wife Camilla is as good and as perfect as I think her +to be; and I cannot satisfy myself of the truth on this point except by +testing her in such a way that the trial may prove the purity of her +virtue as the fire proves that of gold; because I am persuaded, my +friend, that a woman is virtuous only in proportion as she is or is not +tempted; and that she alone is strong who does not yield to the promises, +gifts, tears, and importunities of earnest lovers; for what thanks does a +woman deserve for being good if no one urges her to be bad, and what +wonder is it that she is reserved and circumspect to whom no opportunity +is given of going wrong and who knows she has a husband that will take +her life the first time he detects her in an impropriety? I do not +therefore hold her who is virtuous through fear or want of opportunity in +the same estimation as her who comes out of temptation and trial with a +crown of victory; and so, for these reasons and many others that I could +give thee to justify and support the opinion I hold, I am desirous that +my wife Camilla should pass this crisis, and be refined and tested by the +fire of finding herself wooed and by one worthy to set his affections +upon her; and if she comes out, as I know she will, victorious from this +struggle, I shall look upon my good fortune as unequalled, I shall be +able to say that the cup of my desire is full, and that the virtuous +woman of whom the sage says 'Who shall find her?' has fallen to my lot. +And if the result be the contrary of what I expect, in the satisfaction +of knowing that I have been right in my opinion, I shall bear without +complaint the pain which my so dearly bought experience will naturally +cause me. And, as nothing of all thou wilt urge in opposition to my wish +will avail to keep me from carrying it into effect, it is my desire, +friend Lothario, that thou shouldst consent to become the instrument for +effecting this purpose that I am bent upon, for I will afford thee +opportunities to that end, and nothing shall be wanting that I may think +necessary for the pursuit of a virtuous, honourable, modest and +high-minded woman. And among other reasons, I am induced to entrust this +arduous task to thee by the consideration that if Camilla be conquered by +thee the conquest will not be pushed to extremes, but only far enough to +account that accomplished which from a sense of honour will be left +undone; thus I shall not be wronged in anything more than intention, and +my wrong will remain buried in the integrity of thy silence, which I know +well will be as lasting as that of death in what concerns me. If, +therefore, thou wouldst have me enjoy what can be called life, thou wilt +at once engage in this love struggle, not lukewarmly nor slothfully, but +with the energy and zeal that my desire demands, and with the loyalty our +friendship assures me of." + +Such were the words Anselmo addressed to Lothario, who listened to them +with such attention that, except to say what has been already mentioned, +he did not open his lips until the other had finished. Then perceiving +that he had no more to say, after regarding him for awhile, as one would +regard something never before seen that excited wonder and amazement, he +said to him, "I cannot persuade myself, Anselmo my friend, that what thou +hast said to me is not in jest; if I thought that thou wert speaking +seriously I would not have allowed thee to go so far; so as to put a stop +to thy long harangue by not listening to thee I verily suspect that +either thou dost not know me, or I do not know thee; but no, I know well +thou art Anselmo, and thou knowest that I am Lothario; the misfortune is, +it seems to me, that thou art not the Anselmo thou wert, and must have +thought that I am not the Lothario I should be; for the things that thou +hast said to me are not those of that Anselmo who was my friend, nor are +those that thou demandest of me what should be asked of the Lothario thou +knowest. True friends will prove their friends and make use of them, as a +poet has said, usque ad aras; whereby he meant that they will not make +use of their friendship in things that are contrary to God's will. If +this, then, was a heathen's feeling about friendship, how much more +should it be a Christian's, who knows that the divine must not be +forfeited for the sake of any human friendship? And if a friend should go +so far as to put aside his duty to Heaven to fulfil his duty to his +friend, it should not be in matters that are trifling or of little +moment, but in such as affect the friend's life and honour. Now tell me, +Anselmo, in which of these two art thou imperilled, that I should hazard +myself to gratify thee, and do a thing so detestable as that thou seekest +of me? Neither forsooth; on the contrary, thou dost ask of me, so far as +I understand, to strive and labour to rob thee of honour and life, and to +rob myself of them at the same time; for if I take away thy honour it is +plain I take away thy life, as a man without honour is worse than dead; +and being the instrument, as thou wilt have it so, of so much wrong to +thee, shall not I, too, be left without honour, and consequently without +life? Listen to me, Anselmo my friend, and be not impatient to answer me +until I have said what occurs to me touching the object of thy desire, +for there will be time enough left for thee to reply and for me to hear." + +"Be it so," said Anselmo, "say what thou wilt." + +Lothario then went on to say, "It seems to me, Anselmo, that thine is +just now the temper of mind which is always that of the Moors, who can +never be brought to see the error of their creed by quotations from the +Holy Scriptures, or by reasons which depend upon the examination of the +understanding or are founded upon the articles of faith, but must have +examples that are palpable, easy, intelligible, capable of proof, not +admitting of doubt, with mathematical demonstrations that cannot be +denied, like, 'If equals be taken from equals, the remainders are equal:' +and if they do not understand this in words, and indeed they do not, it +has to be shown to them with the hands, and put before their eyes, and +even with all this no one succeeds in convincing them of the truth of our +holy religion. This same mode of proceeding I shall have to adopt with +thee, for the desire which has sprung up in thee is so absurd and remote +from everything that has a semblance of reason, that I feel it would be a +waste of time to employ it in reasoning with thy simplicity, for at +present I will call it by no other name; and I am even tempted to leave +thee in thy folly as a punishment for thy pernicious desire; but the +friendship I bear thee, which will not allow me to desert thee in such +manifest danger of destruction, keeps me from dealing so harshly by thee. +And that thou mayest clearly see this, say, Anselmo, hast thou not told +me that I must force my suit upon a modest woman, decoy one that is +virtuous, make overtures to one that is pure-minded, pay court to one +that is prudent? Yes, thou hast told me so. Then, if thou knowest that +thou hast a wife, modest, virtuous, pure-minded and prudent, what is it +that thou seekest? And if thou believest that she will come forth +victorious from all my attacks--as doubtless she would--what higher +titles than those she possesses now dost thou think thou canst upon her +then, or in what will she be better then than she is now? Either thou +dost not hold her to be what thou sayest, or thou knowest not what thou +dost demand. If thou dost not hold her to be what thou why dost thou seek +to prove her instead of treating her as guilty in the way that may seem +best to thee? but if she be as virtuous as thou believest, it is an +uncalled-for proceeding to make trial of truth itself, for, after trial, +it will but be in the same estimation as before. Thus, then, it is +conclusive that to attempt things from which harm rather than advantage +may come to us is the part of unreasoning and reckless minds, more +especially when they are things which we are not forced or compelled to +attempt, and which show from afar that it is plainly madness to attempt +them. + +"Difficulties are attempted either for the sake of God or for the sake of +the world, or for both; those undertaken for God's sake are those which +the saints undertake when they attempt to live the lives of angels in +human bodies; those undertaken for the sake of the world are those of the +men who traverse such a vast expanse of water, such a variety of +climates, so many strange countries, to acquire what are called the +blessings of fortune; and those undertaken for the sake of God and the +world together are those of brave soldiers, who no sooner do they see in +the enemy's wall a breach as wide as a cannon ball could make, than, +casting aside all fear, without hesitating, or heeding the manifest peril +that threatens them, borne onward by the desire of defending their faith, +their country, and their king, they fling themselves dauntlessly into the +midst of the thousand opposing deaths that await them. Such are the +things that men are wont to attempt, and there is honour, glory, gain, in +attempting them, however full of difficulty and peril they may be; but +that which thou sayest it is thy wish to attempt and carry out will not +win thee the glory of God nor the blessings of fortune nor fame among +men; for even if the issue he as thou wouldst have it, thou wilt be no +happier, richer, or more honoured than thou art this moment; and if it be +otherwise thou wilt be reduced to misery greater than can be imagined, +for then it will avail thee nothing to reflect that no one is aware of +the misfortune that has befallen thee; it will suffice to torture and +crush thee that thou knowest it thyself. And in confirmation of the truth +of what I say, let me repeat to thee a stanza made by the famous poet +Luigi Tansillo at the end of the first part of his 'Tears of Saint +Peter,' which says thus: + +The anguish and the shame but greater grew In Peter's heart as morning +slowly came; No eye was there to see him, well he knew, Yet he himself +was to himself a shame; Exposed to all men's gaze, or screened from view, +A noble heart will feel the pang the same; A prey to shame the sinning +soul will be, Though none but heaven and earth its shame can see. + +Thus by keeping it secret thou wilt not escape thy sorrow, but rather +thou wilt shed tears unceasingly, if not tears of the eyes, tears of +blood from the heart, like those shed by that simple doctor our poet +tells us of, that tried the test of the cup, which the wise Rinaldo, +better advised, refused to do; for though this may be a poetic fiction it +contains a moral lesson worthy of attention and study and imitation. +Moreover by what I am about to say to thee thou wilt be led to see the +great error thou wouldst commit. + +"Tell me, Anselmo, if Heaven or good fortune had made thee master and +lawful owner of a diamond of the finest quality, with the excellence and +purity of which all the lapidaries that had seen it had been satisfied, +saying with one voice and common consent that in purity, quality, and +fineness, it was all that a stone of the kind could possibly be, thou +thyself too being of the same belief, as knowing nothing to the contrary, +would it be reasonable in thee to desire to take that diamond and place +it between an anvil and a hammer, and by mere force of blows and strength +of arm try if it were as hard and as fine as they said? And if thou +didst, and if the stone should resist so silly a test, that would add +nothing to its value or reputation; and if it were broken, as it might +be, would not all be lost? Undoubtedly it would, leaving its owner to be +rated as a fool in the opinion of all. Consider, then, Anselmo my friend, +that Camilla is a diamond of the finest quality as well in thy estimation +as in that of others, and that it is contrary to reason to expose her to +the risk of being broken; for if she remains intact she cannot rise to a +higher value than she now possesses; and if she give way and be unable to +resist, bethink thee now how thou wilt be deprived of her, and with what +good reason thou wilt complain of thyself for having been the cause of +her ruin and thine own. Remember there is no jewel in the world so +precious as a chaste and virtuous woman, and that the whole honour of +women consists in reputation; and since thy wife's is of that high +excellence that thou knowest, wherefore shouldst thou seek to call that +truth in question? Remember, my friend, that woman is an imperfect +animal, and that impediments are not to be placed in her way to make her +trip and fall, but that they should be removed, and her path left clear +of all obstacles, so that without hindrance she may run her course freely +to attain the desired perfection, which consists in being virtuous. +Naturalists tell us that the ermine is a little animal which has a fur of +purest white, and that when the hunters wish to take it, they make use of +this artifice. Having ascertained the places which it frequents and +passes, they stop the way to them with mud, and then rousing it, drive it +towards the spot, and as soon as the ermine comes to the mud it halts, +and allows itself to be taken captive rather than pass through the mire, +and spoil and sully its whiteness, which it values more than life and +liberty. The virtuous and chaste woman is an ermine, and whiter and purer +than snow is the virtue of modesty; and he who wishes her not to lose it, +but to keep and preserve it, must adopt a course different from that +employed with the ermine; he must not put before her the mire of the +gifts and attentions of persevering lovers, because perhaps--and even +without a perhaps--she may not have sufficient virtue and natural +strength in herself to pass through and tread under foot these +impediments; they must be removed, and the brightness of virtue and the +beauty of a fair fame must be put before her. A virtuous woman, too, is +like a mirror, of clear shining crystal, liable to be tarnished and +dimmed by every breath that touches it. She must be treated as relics +are; adored, not touched. She must be protected and prized as one +protects and prizes a fair garden full of roses and flowers, the owner of +which allows no one to trespass or pluck a blossom; enough for others +that from afar and through the iron grating they may enjoy its fragrance +and its beauty. Finally let me repeat to thee some verses that come to my +mind; I heard them in a modern comedy, and it seems to me they bear upon +the point we are discussing. A prudent old man was giving advice to +another, the father of a young girl, to lock her up, watch over her and +keep her in seclusion, and among other arguments he used these: + +poem{ + +Woman is a thing of glass; +But her brittleness 'tis best +Not too curiously to test: +Who knows what may come to pass? + +Breaking is an easy matter, +And it's folly to expose +What you cannot mend to blows; +What you can't make whole to shatter. + +This, then, all may hold as true, +And the reason's plain to see; +For if Danaes there be, +There are golden showers too. + +}poem + +"All that I have said to thee so far, Anselmo, has had reference to what +concerns thee; now it is right that I should say something of what +regards myself; and if I be prolix, pardon me, for the labyrinth into +which thou hast entered and from which thou wouldst have me extricate +thee makes it necessary. + +"Thou dost reckon me thy friend, and thou wouldst rob me of honour, a +thing wholly inconsistent with friendship; and not only dost thou aim at +this, but thou wouldst have me rob thee of it also. That thou wouldst rob +me of it is clear, for when Camilla sees that I pay court to her as thou +requirest, she will certainly regard me as a man without honour or right +feeling, since I attempt and do a thing so much opposed to what I owe to +my own position and thy friendship. That thou wouldst have me rob thee of +it is beyond a doubt, for Camilla, seeing that I press my suit upon her, +will suppose that I have perceived in her something light that has +encouraged me to make known to her my base desire; and if she holds +herself dishonoured, her dishonour touches thee as belonging to her; and +hence arises what so commonly takes place, that the husband of the +adulterous woman, though he may not be aware of or have given any cause +for his wife's failure in her duty, or (being careless or negligent) have +had it in his power to prevent his dishonour, nevertheless is stigmatised +by a vile and reproachful name, and in a manner regarded with eyes of +contempt instead of pity by all who know of his wife's guilt, though they +see that he is unfortunate not by his own fault, but by the lust of a +vicious consort. But I will tell thee why with good reason dishonour +attaches to the husband of the unchaste wife, though he know not that she +is so, nor be to blame, nor have done anything, or given any provocation +to make her so; and be not weary with listening to me, for it will be for +thy good. + +"When God created our first parent in the earthly paradise, the Holy +Scripture says that he infused sleep into Adam and while he slept took a +rib from his left side of which he formed our mother Eve, and when Adam +awoke and beheld her he said, 'This is flesh of my flesh, and bone of my +bone.' And God said 'For this shall a man leave his father and his +mother, and they shall be two in one flesh; and then was instituted the +divine sacrament of marriage, with such ties that death alone can loose +them. And such is the force and virtue of this miraculous sacrament that +it makes two different persons one and the same flesh; and even more than +this when the virtuous are married; for though they have two souls they +have but one will. And hence it follows that as the flesh of the wife is +one and the same with that of her husband the stains that may come upon +it, or the injuries it incurs fall upon the husband's flesh, though he, +as has been said, may have given no cause for them; for as the pain of +the foot or any member of the body is felt by the whole body, because all +is one flesh, as the head feels the hurt to the ankle without having +caused it, so the husband, being one with her, shares the dishonour of +the wife; and as all worldly honour or dishonour comes of flesh and +blood, and the erring wife's is of that kind, the husband must needs bear +his part of it and be held dishonoured without knowing it. See, then, +Anselmo, the peril thou art encountering in seeking to disturb the peace +of thy virtuous consort; see for what an empty and ill-advised curiosity +thou wouldst rouse up passions that now repose in quiet in the breast of +thy chaste wife; reflect that what thou art staking all to win is little, +and what thou wilt lose so much that I leave it undescribed, not having +the words to express it. But if all I have said be not enough to turn +thee from thy vile purpose, thou must seek some other instrument for thy +dishonour and misfortune; for such I will not consent to be, though I +lose thy friendship, the greatest loss that I can conceive." + +Having said this, the wise and virtuous Lothario was silent, and Anselmo, +troubled in mind and deep in thought, was unable for a while to utter a +word in reply; but at length he said, "I have listened, Lothario my +friend, attentively, as thou hast seen, to what thou hast chosen to say +to me, and in thy arguments, examples, and comparisons I have seen that +high intelligence thou dost possess, and the perfection of true +friendship thou hast reached; and likewise I see and confess that if I am +not guided by thy opinion, but follow my own, I am flying from the good +and pursuing the evil. This being so, thou must remember that I am now +labouring under that infirmity which women sometimes suffer from, when +the craving seizes them to eat clay, plaster, charcoal, and things even +worse, disgusting to look at, much more to eat; so that it will be +necessary to have recourse to some artifice to cure me; and this can be +easily effected if only thou wilt make a beginning, even though it be in +a lukewarm and make-believe fashion, to pay court to Camilla, who will +not be so yielding that her virtue will give way at the first attack: +with this mere attempt I shall rest satisfied, and thou wilt have done +what our friendship binds thee to do, not only in giving me life, but in +persuading me not to discard my honour. And this thou art bound to do for +one reason alone, that, being, as I am, resolved to apply this test, it +is not for thee to permit me to reveal my weakness to another, and so +imperil that honour thou art striving to keep me from losing; and if +thine may not stand as high as it ought in the estimation of Camilla +while thou art paying court to her, that is of little or no importance, +because ere long, on finding in her that constancy which we expect, thou +canst tell her the plain truth as regards our stratagem, and so regain +thy place in her esteem; and as thou art venturing so little, and by the +venture canst afford me so much satisfaction, refuse not to undertake it, +even if further difficulties present themselves to thee; for, as I have +said, if thou wilt only make a beginning I will acknowledge the issue +decided." + +Lothario seeing the fixed determination of Anselmo, and not knowing what +further examples to offer or arguments to urge in order to dissuade him +from it, and perceiving that he threatened to confide his pernicious +scheme to some one else, to avoid a greater evil resolved to gratify him +and do what he asked, intending to manage the business so as to satisfy +Anselmo without corrupting the mind of Camilla; so in reply he told him +not to communicate his purpose to any other, for he would undertake the +task himself, and would begin it as soon as he pleased. Anselmo embraced +him warmly and affectionately, and thanked him for his offer as if he had +bestowed some great favour upon him; and it was agreed between them to +set about it the next day, Anselmo affording opportunity and time to +Lothario to converse alone with Camilla, and furnishing him with money +and jewels to offer and present to her. He suggested, too, that he should +treat her to music, and write verses in her praise, and if he was +unwilling to take the trouble of composing them, he offered to do it +himself. Lothario agreed to all with an intention very different from +what Anselmo supposed, and with this understanding they returned to +Anselmo's house, where they found Camilla awaiting her husband anxiously +and uneasily, for he was later than usual in returning that day. Lothario +repaired to his own house, and Anselmo remained in his, as well satisfied +as Lothario was troubled in mind; for he could see no satisfactory way +out of this ill-advised business. That night, however, he thought of a +plan by which he might deceive Anselmo without any injury to Camilla. The +next day he went to dine with his friend, and was welcomed by Camilla, +who received and treated him with great cordiality, knowing the affection +her husband felt for him. When dinner was over and the cloth removed, +Anselmo told Lothario to stay there with Camilla while he attended to +some pressing business, as he would return in an hour and a half. Camilla +begged him not to go, and Lothario offered to accompany him, but nothing +could persuade Anselmo, who on the contrary pressed Lothario to remain +waiting for him as he had a matter of great importance to discuss with +him. At the same time he bade Camilla not to leave Lothario alone until +he came back. In short he contrived to put so good a face on the reason, +or the folly, of his absence that no one could have suspected it was a +pretence. + +Anselmo took his departure, and Camilla and Lothario were left alone at +the table, for the rest of the household had gone to dinner. Lothario saw +himself in the lists according to his friend's wish, and facing an enemy +that could by her beauty alone vanquish a squadron of armed knights; +judge whether he had good reason to fear; but what he did was to lean his +elbow on the arm of the chair, and his cheek upon his hand, and, asking +Camilla's pardon for his ill manners, he said he wished to take a little +sleep until Anselmo returned. Camilla in reply said he could repose more +at his ease in the reception-room than in his chair, and begged of him to +go in and sleep there; but Lothario declined, and there he remained +asleep until the return of Anselmo, who finding Camilla in her own room, +and Lothario asleep, imagined that he had stayed away so long as to have +afforded them time enough for conversation and even for sleep, and was +all impatience until Lothario should wake up, that he might go out with +him and question him as to his success. Everything fell out as he wished; +Lothario awoke, and the two at once left the house, and Anselmo asked +what he was anxious to know, and Lothario in answer told him that he had +not thought it advisable to declare himself entirely the first time, and +therefore had only extolled the charms of Camilla, telling her that all +the city spoke of nothing else but her beauty and wit, for this seemed to +him an excellent way of beginning to gain her good-will and render her +disposed to listen to him with pleasure the next time, thus availing +himself of the device the devil has recourse to when he would deceive one +who is on the watch; for he being the angel of darkness transforms +himself into an angel of light, and, under cover of a fair seeming, +discloses himself at length, and effects his purpose if at the beginning +his wiles are not discovered. All this gave great satisfaction to +Anselmo, and he said he would afford the same opportunity every day, but +without leaving the house, for he would find things to do at home so that +Camilla should not detect the plot. + +Thus, then, several days went by, and Lothario, without uttering a word +to Camilla, reported to Anselmo that he had talked with her and that he +had never been able to draw from her the slightest indication of consent +to anything dishonourable, nor even a sign or shadow of hope; on the +contrary, he said she would inform her husband of it. + +"So far well," said Anselmo; "Camilla has thus far resisted words; we +must now see how she will resist deeds. I will give you to-morrow two +thousand crowns in gold for you to offer or even present, and as many +more to buy jewels to lure her, for women are fond of being becomingly +attired and going gaily dressed, and all the more so if they are +beautiful, however chaste they may be; and if she resists this +temptation, I will rest satisfied and will give you no more trouble." + +Lothario replied that now he had begun he would carry on the undertaking +to the end, though he perceived he was to come out of it wearied and +vanquished. The next day he received the four thousand crowns, and with +them four thousand perplexities, for he knew not what to say by way of a +new falsehood; but in the end he made up his mind to tell him that +Camilla stood as firm against gifts and promises as against words, and +that there was no use in taking any further trouble, for the time was all +spent to no purpose. + +But chance, directing things in a different manner, so ordered it that +Anselmo, having left Lothario and Camilla alone as on other occasions, +shut himself into a chamber and posted himself to watch and listen +through the keyhole to what passed between them, and perceived that for +more than half an hour Lothario did not utter a word to Camilla, nor +would utter a word though he were to be there for an age; and he came to +the conclusion that what his friend had told him about the replies of +Camilla was all invention and falsehood, and to ascertain if it were so, +he came out, and calling Lothario aside asked him what news he had and in +what humour Camilla was. Lothario replied that he was not disposed to go +on with the business, for she had answered him so angrily and harshly +that he had no heart to say anything more to her. + +"Ah, Lothario, Lothario," said Anselmo, "how ill dost thou meet thy +obligations to me, and the great confidence I repose in thee! I have been +just now watching through this keyhole, and I have seen that thou has not +said a word to Camilla, whence I conclude that on the former occasions +thou hast not spoken to her either, and if this be so, as no doubt it is, +why dost thou deceive me, or wherefore seekest thou by craft to deprive +me of the means I might find of attaining my desire?" + +Anselmo said no more, but he had said enough to cover Lothario with shame +and confusion, and he, feeling as it were his honour touched by having +been detected in a lie, swore to Anselmo that he would from that moment +devote himself to satisfying him without any deception, as he would see +if he had the curiosity to watch; though he need not take the trouble, +for the pains he would take to satisfy him would remove all suspicions +from his mind. Anselmo believed him, and to afford him an opportunity +more free and less liable to surprise, he resolved to absent himself from +his house for eight days, betaking himself to that of a friend of his who +lived in a village not far from the city; and, the better to account for +his departure to Camilla, he so arranged it that the friend should send +him a very pressing invitation. + +Unhappy, shortsighted Anselmo, what art thou doing, what art thou +plotting, what art thou devising? Bethink thee thou art working against +thyself, plotting thine own dishonour, devising thine own ruin. Thy wife +Camilla is virtuous, thou dost possess her in peace and quietness, no one +assails thy happiness, her thoughts wander not beyond the walls of thy +house, thou art her heaven on earth, the object of her wishes, the +fulfilment of her desires, the measure wherewith she measures her will, +making it conform in all things to thine and Heaven's. If, then, the mine +of her honour, beauty, virtue, and modesty yields thee without labour all +the wealth it contains and thou canst wish for, why wilt thou dig the +earth in search of fresh veins, of new unknown treasure, risking the +collapse of all, since it but rests on the feeble props of her weak +nature? Bethink thee that from him who seeks impossibilities that which +is possible may with justice be withheld, as was better expressed by a +poet who said: + +poem{ + +'Tis mine to seek for life in death, +Health in disease seek I, +I seek in prison freedom's breath, +In traitors loyalty. +So Fate that ever scorns to grant +Or grace or boon to me, +Since what can never be I want, +Denies me what might be. + +}poem + +The next day Anselmo took his departure for the village, leaving +instructions with Camilla that during his absence Lothario would come to +look after his house and to dine with her, and that she was to treat him +as she would himself. Camilla was distressed, as a discreet and +right-minded woman would be, at the orders her husband left her, and bade +him remember that it was not becoming that anyone should occupy his seat +at the table during his absence, and if he acted thus from not feeling +confidence that she would be able to manage his house, let him try her +this time, and he would find by experience that she was equal to greater +responsibilities. Anselmo replied that it was his pleasure to have it so, +and that she had only to submit and obey. Camilla said she would do so, +though against her will. + +Anselmo went, and the next day Lothario came to his house, where he was +received by Camilla with a friendly and modest welcome; but she never +suffered Lothario to see her alone, for she was always attended by her +men and women servants, especially by a handmaid of hers, Leonela by +name, to whom she was much attached (for they had been brought up +together from childhood in her father's house), and whom she had kept +with her after her marriage with Anselmo. The first three days Lothario +did not speak to her, though he might have done so when they removed the +cloth and the servants retired to dine hastily; for such were Camilla's +orders; nay more, Leonela had directions to dine earlier than Camilla and +never to leave her side. She, however, having her thoughts fixed upon +other things more to her taste, and wanting that time and opportunity for +her own pleasures, did not always obey her mistress's commands, but on +the contrary left them alone, as if they had ordered her to do so; but +the modest bearing of Camilla, the calmness of her countenance, the +composure of her aspect were enough to bridle the tongue of Lothario. But +the influence which the many virtues of Camilla exerted in imposing +silence on Lothario's tongue proved mischievous for both of them, for if +his tongue was silent his thoughts were busy, and could dwell at leisure +upon the perfections of Camilla's goodness and beauty one by one, charms +enough to warm with love a marble statue, not to say a heart of flesh. +Lothario gazed upon her when he might have been speaking to her, and +thought how worthy of being loved she was; and thus reflection began +little by little to assail his allegiance to Anselmo, and a thousand +times he thought of withdrawing from the city and going where Anselmo +should never see him nor he see Camilla. But already the delight he found +in gazing on her interposed and held him fast. He put a constraint upon +himself, and struggled to repel and repress the pleasure he found in +contemplating Camilla; when alone he blamed himself for his weakness, +called himself a bad friend, nay a bad Christian; then he argued the +matter and compared himself with Anselmo; always coming to the conclusion +that the folly and rashness of Anselmo had been worse than his +faithlessness, and that if he could excuse his intentions as easily +before God as with man, he had no reason to fear any punishment for his +offence. + +In short the beauty and goodness of Camilla, joined with the opportunity +which the blind husband had placed in his hands, overthrew the loyalty of +Lothario; and giving heed to nothing save the object towards which his +inclinations led him, after Anselmo had been three days absent, during +which he had been carrying on a continual struggle with his passion, he +began to make love to Camilla with so much vehemence and warmth of +language that she was overwhelmed with amazement, and could only rise +from her place and retire to her room without answering him a word. But +the hope which always springs up with love was not weakened in Lothario +by this repelling demeanour; on the contrary his passion for Camilla +increased, and she discovering in him what she had never expected, knew +not what to do; and considering it neither safe nor right to give him the +chance or opportunity of speaking to her again, she resolved to send, as +she did that very night, one of her servants with a letter to Anselmo, in +which she addressed the following words to him. + +Chapter XXXIV. - +In which is continued the novel of "the ill-advised curiosity" + +"It is commonly said that an army looks ill without its general and a +castle without its castellan, and I say that a young married woman looks +still worse without her husband unless there are very good reasons for +it. I find myself so ill at ease without you, and so incapable of +enduring this separation, that unless you return quickly I shall have to +go for relief to my parents' house, even if I leave yours without a +protector; for the one you left me, if indeed he deserved that title, +has, I think, more regard to his own pleasure than to what concerns you: +as you are possessed of discernment I need say no more to you, nor indeed +is it fitting I should say more." + +Anselmo received this letter, and from it he gathered that Lothario had +already begun his task and that Camilla must have replied to him as he +would have wished; and delighted beyond measure at such intelligence he +sent word to her not to leave his house on any account, as he would very +shortly return. Camilla was astonished at Anselmo's reply, which placed +her in greater perplexity than before, for she neither dared to remain in +her own house, nor yet to go to her parents'; for in remaining her virtue +was imperilled, and in going she was opposing her husband's commands. +Finally she decided upon what was the worse course for her, to remain, +resolving not to fly from the presence of Lothario, that she might not +give food for gossip to her servants; and she now began to regret having +written as she had to her husband, fearing he might imagine that Lothario +had perceived in her some lightness which had impelled him to lay aside +the respect he owed her; but confident of her rectitude she put her trust +in God and in her own virtuous intentions, with which she hoped to resist +in silence all the solicitations of Lothario, without saying anything to +her husband so as not to involve him in any quarrel or trouble; and she +even began to consider how to excuse Lothario to Anselmo when he should +ask her what it was that induced her to write that letter. With these +resolutions, more honourable than judicious or effectual, she remained +the next day listening to Lothario, who pressed his suit so strenuously +that Camilla's firmness began to waver, and her virtue had enough to do +to come to the rescue of her eyes and keep them from showing signs of a +certain tender compassion which the tears and appeals of Lothario had +awakened in her bosom. Lothario observed all this, and it inflamed him +all the more. In short he felt that while Anselmo's absence afforded time +and opportunity he must press the siege of the fortress, and so he +assailed her self-esteem with praises of her beauty, for there is nothing +that more quickly reduces and levels the castle towers of fair women's +vanity than vanity itself upon the tongue of flattery. In fact with the +utmost assiduity he undermined the rock of her purity with such engines +that had Camilla been of brass she must have fallen. He wept, he +entreated, he promised, he flattered, he importuned, he pretended with so +much feeling and apparent sincerity, that he overthrew the virtuous +resolves of Camilla and won the triumph he least expected and most longed +for. Camilla yielded, Camilla fell; but what wonder if the friendship of +Lothario could not stand firm? A clear proof to us that the passion of +love is to be conquered only by flying from it, and that no one should +engage in a struggle with an enemy so mighty; for divine strength is +needed to overcome his human power. Leonela alone knew of her mistress's +weakness, for the two false friends and new lovers were unable to conceal +it. Lothario did not care to tell Camilla the object Anselmo had in view, +nor that he had afforded him the opportunity of attaining such a result, +lest she should undervalue his love and think that it was by chance and +without intending it and not of his own accord that he had made love to +her. + +A few days later Anselmo returned to his house and did not perceive what +it had lost, that which he so lightly treated and so highly prized. He +went at once to see Lothario, and found him at home; they embraced each +other, and Anselmo asked for the tidings of his life or his death. + +"The tidings I have to give thee, Anselmo my friend," said Lothario, "are +that thou dost possess a wife that is worthy to be the pattern and crown +of all good wives. The words that I have addressed to her were borne away +on the wind, my promises have been despised, my presents have been +refused, such feigned tears as I shed have been turned into open +ridicule. In short, as Camilla is the essence of all beauty, so is she +the treasure-house where purity dwells, and gentleness and modesty abide +with all the virtues that can confer praise, honour, and happiness upon a +woman. Take back thy money, my friend; here it is, and I have had no need +to touch it, for the chastity of Camilla yields not to things so base as +gifts or promises. Be content, Anselmo, and refrain from making further +proof; and as thou hast passed dryshod through the sea of those doubts +and suspicions that are and may be entertained of women, seek not to +plunge again into the deep ocean of new embarrassments, or with another +pilot make trial of the goodness and strength of the bark that Heaven has +granted thee for thy passage across the sea of this world; but reckon +thyself now safe in port, moor thyself with the anchor of sound +reflection, and rest in peace until thou art called upon to pay that debt +which no nobility on earth can escape paying." + +Anselmo was completely satisfied by the words of Lothario, and believed +them as fully as if they had been spoken by an oracle; nevertheless he +begged of him not to relinquish the undertaking, were it but for the sake +of curiosity and amusement; though thenceforward he need not make use of +the same earnest endeavours as before; all he wished him to do was to +write some verses to her, praising her under the name of Chloris, for he +himself would give her to understand that he was in love with a lady to +whom he had given that name to enable him to sing her praises with the +decorum due to her modesty; and if Lothario were unwilling to take the +trouble of writing the verses he would compose them himself. + +"That will not be necessary," said Lothario, "for the muses are not such +enemies of mine but that they visit me now and then in the course of the +year. Do thou tell Camilla what thou hast proposed about a pretended +amour of mine; as for the verses will make them, and if not as good as +the subject deserves, they shall be at least the best I can produce." An +agreement to this effect was made between the friends, the ill-advised +one and the treacherous, and Anselmo returning to his house asked Camilla +the question she already wondered he had not asked before--what it was +that had caused her to write the letter she had sent him. Camilla replied +that it had seemed to her that Lothario looked at her somewhat more +freely than when he had been at home; but that now she was undeceived and +believed it to have been only her own imagination, for Lothario now +avoided seeing her, or being alone with her. Anselmo told her she might +be quite easy on the score of that suspicion, for he knew that Lothario +was in love with a damsel of rank in the city whom he celebrated under +the name of Chloris, and that even if he were not, his fidelity and their +great friendship left no room for fear. Had not Camilla, however, been +informed beforehand by Lothario that this love for Chloris was a +pretence, and that he himself had told Anselmo of it in order to be able +sometimes to give utterance to the praises of Camilla herself, no doubt +she would have fallen into the despairing toils of jealousy; but being +forewarned she received the startling news without uneasiness. + +The next day as the three were at table Anselmo asked Lothario to recite +something of what he had composed for his mistress Chloris; for as +Camilla did not know her, he might safely say what he liked. + +"Even did she know her," returned Lothario, "I would hide nothing, for +when a lover praises his lady's beauty, and charges her with cruelty, he +casts no imputation upon her fair name; at any rate, all I can say is +that yesterday I made a sonnet on the ingratitude of this Chloris, which +goes thus: + +poem{ + +SONNET + +At midnight, in the silence, when the eyes + Of happier mortals balmy slumbers close, + The weary tale of my unnumbered woes +To Chloris and to Heaven is wont to rise. +And when the light of day returning dyes + The portals of the east with tints of rose, + With undiminished force my sorrow flows +In broken accents and in burning sighs. +And when the sun ascends his star-girt throne, + And on the earth pours down his midday beams, + Noon but renews my wailing and my tears; +And with the night again goes up my moan. + Yet ever in my agony it seems + To me that neither Heaven nor Chloris hears." + +}poem + +The sonnet pleased Camilla, and still more Anselmo, for he praised it and +said the lady was excessively cruel who made no return for sincerity so +manifest. On which Camilla said, "Then all that love-smitten poets say is +true?" + +"As poets they do not tell the truth," replied Lothario; "but as lovers +they are not more defective in expression than they are truthful." + +"There is no doubt of that," observed Anselmo, anxious to support and +uphold Lothario's ideas with Camilla, who was as regardless of his design +as she was deep in love with Lothario; and so taking delight in anything +that was his, and knowing that his thoughts and writings had her for +their object, and that she herself was the real Chloris, she asked him to +repeat some other sonnet or verses if he recollected any. + +"I do," replied Lothario, "but I do not think it as good as the first +one, or, more correctly speaking, less bad; but you can easily judge, for +it is this. + +poem{ + +SONNET + +I know that I am doomed; death is to me + As certain as that thou, ungrateful fair, + Dead at thy feet shouldst see me lying, ere +My heart repented of its love for thee. +If buried in oblivion I should be, + Bereft of life, fame, favour, even there + It would be found that I thy image bear +Deep graven in my breast for all to see. +This like some holy relic do I prize + To save me from the fate my truth entails, + Truth that to thy hard heart its vigour owes. +Alas for him that under lowering skies, + In peril o'er a trackless ocean sails, + Where neither friendly port nor pole-star shows." + +}poem + +Anselmo praised this second sonnet too, as he had praised the first; and +so he went on adding link after link to the chain with which he was +binding himself and making his dishonour secure; for when Lothario was +doing most to dishonour him he told him he was most honoured; and thus +each step that Camilla descended towards the depths of her abasement, she +mounted, in his opinion, towards the summit of virtue and fair fame. + +It so happened that finding herself on one occasion alone with her maid, +Camilla said to her, "I am ashamed to think, my dear Leonela, how lightly +I have valued myself that I did not compel Lothario to purchase by at +least some expenditure of time that full possession of me that I so +quickly yielded him of my own free will. I fear that he will think ill of +my pliancy or lightness, not considering the irresistible influence he +brought to bear upon me." + +"Let not that trouble you, my lady," said Leonela, "for it does not take +away the value of the thing given or make it the less precious to give it +quickly if it be really valuable and worthy of being prized; nay, they +are wont to say that he who gives quickly gives twice." + +"They say also," said Camilla, "that what costs little is valued less." + +"That saying does not hold good in your case," replied Leonela, "for +love, as I have heard say, sometimes flies and sometimes walks; with this +one it runs, with that it moves slowly; some it cools, others it burns; +some it wounds, others it slays; it begins the course of its desires, and +at the same moment completes and ends it; in the morning it will lay +siege to a fortress and by night will have taken it, for there is no +power that can resist it; so what are you in dread of, what do you fear, +when the same must have befallen Lothario, love having chosen the absence +of my lord as the instrument for subduing you? and it was absolutely +necessary to complete then what love had resolved upon, without affording +the time to let Anselmo return and by his presence compel the work to be +left unfinished; for love has no better agent for carrying out his +designs than opportunity; and of opportunity he avails himself in all his +feats, especially at the outset. All this I know well myself, more by +experience than by hearsay, and some day, senora, I will enlighten you on +the subject, for I am of your flesh and blood too. Moreover, lady +Camilla, you did not surrender yourself or yield so quickly but that +first you saw Lothario's whole soul in his eyes, in his sighs, in his +words, his promises and his gifts, and by it and his good qualities +perceived how worthy he was of your love. This, then, being the case, let +not these scrupulous and prudish ideas trouble your imagination, but be +assured that Lothario prizes you as you do him, and rest content and +satisfied that as you are caught in the noose of love it is one of worth +and merit that has taken you, and one that has not only the four S's that +they say true lovers ought to have, but a complete alphabet; only listen +to me and you will see how I can repeat it by rote. He is to my eyes and +thinking, Amiable, Brave, Courteous, Distinguished, Elegant, Fond, Gay, +Honourable, Illustrious, Loyal, Manly, Noble, Open, Polite, Quickwitted, +Rich, and the S's according to the saying, and then Tender, Veracious: X +does not suit him, for it is a rough letter; Y has been given already; +and Z Zealous for your honour." + +Camilla laughed at her maid's alphabet, and perceived her to be more +experienced in love affairs than she said, which she admitted, confessing +to Camilla that she had love passages with a young man of good birth of +the same city. Camilla was uneasy at this, dreading lest it might prove +the means of endangering her honour, and asked whether her intrigue had +gone beyond words, and she with little shame and much effrontery said it +had; for certain it is that ladies' imprudences make servants shameless, +who, when they see their mistresses make a false step, think nothing of +going astray themselves, or of its being known. All that Camilla could do +was to entreat Leonela to say nothing about her doings to him whom she +called her lover, and to conduct her own affairs secretly lest they +should come to the knowledge of Anselmo or of Lothario. Leonela said she +would, but kept her word in such a way that she confirmed Camilla's +apprehension of losing her reputation through her means; for this +abandoned and bold Leonela, as soon as she perceived that her mistress's +demeanour was not what it was wont to be, had the audacity to introduce +her lover into the house, confident that even if her mistress saw him she +would not dare to expose him; for the sins of mistresses entail this +mischief among others; they make themselves the slaves of their own +servants, and are obliged to hide their laxities and depravities; as was +the case with Camilla, who though she perceived, not once but many times, +that Leonela was with her lover in some room of the house, not only did +not dare to chide her, but afforded her opportunities for concealing him +and removed all difficulties, lest he should be seen by her husband. She +was unable, however, to prevent him from being seen on one occasion, as +he sallied forth at daybreak, by Lothario, who, not knowing who he was, +at first took him for a spectre; but, as soon as he saw him hasten away, +muffling his face with his cloak and concealing himself carefully and +cautiously, he rejected this foolish idea, and adopted another, which +would have been the ruin of all had not Camilla found a remedy. It did +not occur to Lothario that this man he had seen issuing at such an +untimely hour from Anselmo's house could have entered it on Leonela's +account, nor did he even remember there was such a person as Leonela; all +he thought was that as Camilla had been light and yielding with him, so +she had been with another; for this further penalty the erring woman's +sin brings with it, that her honour is distrusted even by him to whose +overtures and persuasions she has yielded; and he believes her to have +surrendered more easily to others, and gives implicit credence to every +suspicion that comes into his mind. All Lothario's good sense seems to +have failed him at this juncture; all his prudent maxims escaped his +memory; for without once reflecting rationally, and without more ado, in +his impatience and in the blindness of the jealous rage that gnawed his +heart, and dying to revenge himself upon Camilla, who had done him no +wrong, before Anselmo had risen he hastened to him and said to him, +"Know, Anselmo, that for several days past I have been struggling with +myself, striving to withhold from thee what it is no longer possible or +right that I should conceal from thee. Know that Camilla's fortress has +surrendered and is ready to submit to my will; and if I have been slow to +reveal this fact to thee, it was in order to see if it were some light +caprice of hers, or if she sought to try me and ascertain if the love I +began to make to her with thy permission was made with a serious +intention. I thought, too, that she, if she were what she ought to be, +and what we both believed her, would have ere this given thee information +of my addresses; but seeing that she delays, I believe the truth of the +promise she has given me that the next time thou art absent from the +house she will grant me an interview in the closet where thy jewels are +kept (and it was true that Camilla used to meet him there); but I do not +wish thee to rush precipitately to take vengeance, for the sin is as yet +only committed in intention, and Camilla's may change perhaps between +this and the appointed time, and repentance spring up in its place. As +hitherto thou hast always followed my advice wholly or in part, follow +and observe this that I will give thee now, so that, without mistake, and +with mature deliberation, thou mayest satisfy thyself as to what may seem +the best course; pretend to absent thyself for two or three days as thou +hast been wont to do on other occasions, and contrive to hide thyself in +the closet; for the tapestries and other things there afford great +facilities for thy concealment, and then thou wilt see with thine own +eyes and I with mine what Camilla's purpose may be. And if it be a guilty +one, which may be feared rather than expected, with silence, prudence, +and discretion thou canst thyself become the instrument of punishment for +the wrong done thee." + +Anselmo was amazed, overwhelmed, and astounded at the words of Lothario, +which came upon him at a time when he least expected to hear them, for he +now looked upon Camilla as having triumphed over the pretended attacks of +Lothario, and was beginning to enjoy the glory of her victory. He +remained silent for a considerable time, looking on the ground with fixed +gaze, and at length said, "Thou hast behaved, Lothario, as I expected of +thy friendship: I will follow thy advice in everything; do as thou wilt, +and keep this secret as thou seest it should be kept in circumstances so +unlooked for." + +Lothario gave him his word, but after leaving him he repented altogether +of what he had said to him, perceiving how foolishly he had acted, as he +might have revenged himself upon Camilla in some less cruel and degrading +way. He cursed his want of sense, condemned his hasty resolution, and +knew not what course to take to undo the mischief or find some ready +escape from it. At last he decided upon revealing all to Camilla, and, as +there was no want of opportunity for doing so, he found her alone the +same day; but she, as soon as she had the chance of speaking to him, +said, "Lothario my friend, I must tell thee I have a sorrow in my heart +which fills it so that it seems ready to burst; and it will be a wonder +if it does not; for the audacity of Leonela has now reached such a pitch +that every night she conceals a gallant of hers in this house and remains +with him till morning, at the expense of my reputation; inasmuch as it is +open to anyone to question it who may see him quitting my house at such +unseasonable hours; but what distresses me is that I cannot punish or +chide her, for her privity to our intrigue bridles my mouth and keeps me +silent about hers, while I am dreading that some catastrophe will come of +it." + +As Camilla said this Lothario at first imagined it was some device to +delude him into the idea that the man he had seen going out was Leonela's +lover and not hers; but when he saw how she wept and suffered, and begged +him to help her, he became convinced of the truth, and the conviction +completed his confusion and remorse; however, he told Camilla not to +distress herself, as he would take measures to put a stop to the +insolence of Leonela. At the same time he told her what, driven by the +fierce rage of jealousy, he had said to Anselmo, and how he had arranged +to hide himself in the closet that he might there see plainly how little +she preserved her fidelity to him; and he entreated her pardon for this +madness, and her advice as to how to repair it, and escape safely from +the intricate labyrinth in which his imprudence had involved him. Camilla +was struck with alarm at hearing what Lothario said, and with much anger, +and great good sense, she reproved him and rebuked his base design and +the foolish and mischievous resolution he had made; but as woman has by +nature a nimbler wit than man for good and for evil, though it is apt to +fail when she sets herself deliberately to reason, Camilla on the spur of +the moment thought of a way to remedy what was to all appearance +irremediable, and told Lothario to contrive that the next day Anselmo +should conceal himself in the place he mentioned, for she hoped from his +concealment to obtain the means of their enjoying themselves for the +future without any apprehension; and without revealing her purpose to him +entirely she charged him to be careful, as soon as Anselmo was concealed, +to come to her when Leonela should call him, and to all she said to him +to answer as he would have answered had he not known that Anselmo was +listening. Lothario pressed her to explain her intention fully, so that +he might with more certainty and precaution take care to do what he saw +to be needful. + +"I tell you," said Camilla, "there is nothing to take care of except to +answer me what I shall ask you;" for she did not wish to explain to him +beforehand what she meant to do, fearing lest he should be unwilling to +follow out an idea which seemed to her such a good one, and should try or +devise some other less practicable plan. + +Lothario then retired, and the next day Anselmo, under pretence of going +to his friend's country house, took his departure, and then returned to +conceal himself, which he was able to do easily, as Camilla and Leonela +took care to give him the opportunity; and so he placed himself in hiding +in the state of agitation that it may be imagined he would feel who +expected to see the vitals of his honour laid bare before his eyes, and +found himself on the point of losing the supreme blessing he thought he +possessed in his beloved Camilla. Having made sure of Anselmo's being in +his hiding-place, Camilla and Leonela entered the closet, and the instant +she set foot within it Camilla said, with a deep sigh, "Ah! dear Leonela, +would it not be better, before I do what I am unwilling you should know +lest you should seek to prevent it, that you should take Anselmo's dagger +that I have asked of you and with it pierce this vile heart of mine? But +no; there is no reason why I should suffer the punishment of another's +fault. I will first know what it is that the bold licentious eyes of +Lothario have seen in me that could have encouraged him to reveal to me a +design so base as that which he has disclosed regardless of his friend +and of my honour. Go to the window, Leonela, and call him, for no doubt +he is in the street waiting to carry out his vile project; but mine, +cruel it may be, but honourable, shall be carried out first." + +"Ah, senora," said the crafty Leonela, who knew her part, "what is it you +want to do with this dagger? Can it be that you mean to take your own +life, or Lothario's? for whichever you mean to do, it will lead to the +loss of your reputation and good name. It is better to dissemble your +wrong and not give this wicked man the chance of entering the house now +and finding us alone; consider, senora, we are weak women and he is a +man, and determined, and as he comes with such a base purpose, blind and +urged by passion, perhaps before you can put yours into execution he may +do what will be worse for you than taking your life. Ill betide my +master, Anselmo, for giving such authority in his house to this shameless +fellow! And supposing you kill him, senora, as I suspect you mean to do, +what shall we do with him when he is dead?" + +"What, my friend?" replied Camilla, "we shall leave him for Anselmo to +bury him; for in reason it will be to him a light labour to hide his own +infamy under ground. Summon him, make haste, for all the time I delay in +taking vengeance for my wrong seems to me an offence against the loyalty +I owe my husband." + +Anselmo was listening to all this, and every word that Camilla uttered +made him change his mind; but when he heard that it was resolved to kill +Lothario his first impulse was to come out and show himself to avert such +a disaster; but in his anxiety to see the issue of a resolution so bold +and virtuous he restrained himself, intending to come forth in time to +prevent the deed. At this moment Camilla, throwing herself upon a bed +that was close by, swooned away, and Leonela began to weep bitterly, +exclaiming, "Woe is me! that I should be fated to have dying here in my +arms the flower of virtue upon earth, the crown of true wives, the +pattern of chastity!" with more to the same effect, so that anyone who +heard her would have taken her for the most tender-hearted and faithful +handmaid in the world, and her mistress for another persecuted Penelope. + +Camilla was not long in recovering from her fainting fit and on coming to +herself she said, "Why do you not go, Leonela, to call hither that +friend, the falsest to his friend the sun ever shone upon or night +concealed? Away, run, haste, speed! lest the fire of my wrath burn itself +out with delay, and the righteous vengeance that I hope for melt away in +menaces and maledictions." + +"I am just going to call him, senora," said Leonela; "but you must first +give me that dagger, lest while I am gone you should by means of it give +cause to all who love you to weep all their lives." + +"Go in peace, dear Leonela, I will not do so," said Camilla, "for rash +and foolish as I may be, to your mind, in defending my honour, I am not +going to be so much so as that Lucretia who they say killed herself +without having done anything wrong, and without having first killed him +on whom the guilt of her misfortune lay. I shall die, if I am to die; but +it must be after full vengeance upon him who has brought me here to weep +over audacity that no fault of mine gave birth to." + +Leonela required much pressing before she would go to summon Lothario, +but at last she went, and while awaiting her return Camilla continued, as +if speaking to herself, "Good God! would it not have been more prudent to +have repulsed Lothario, as I have done many a time before, than to allow +him, as I am now doing, to think me unchaste and vile, even for the short +time I must wait until I undeceive him? No doubt it would have been +better; but I should not be avenged, nor the honour of my husband +vindicated, should he find so clear and easy an escape from the strait +into which his depravity has led him. Let the traitor pay with his life +for the temerity of his wanton wishes, and let the world know (if haply +it shall ever come to know) that Camilla not only preserved her +allegiance to her husband, but avenged him of the man who dared to wrong +him. Still, I think it might be better to disclose this to Anselmo. But +then I have called his attention to it in the letter I wrote to him in +the country, and, if he did nothing to prevent the mischief I there +pointed out to him, I suppose it was that from pure goodness of heart and +trustfulness he would not and could not believe that any thought against +his honour could harbour in the breast of so stanch a friend; nor indeed +did I myself believe it for many days, nor should I have ever believed it +if his insolence had not gone so far as to make it manifest by open +presents, lavish promises, and ceaseless tears. But why do I argue thus? +Does a bold determination stand in need of arguments? Surely not. Then +traitors avaunt! Vengeance to my aid! Let the false one come, approach, +advance, die, yield up his life, and then befall what may. Pure I came to +him whom Heaven bestowed upon me, pure I shall leave him; and at the +worst bathed in my own chaste blood and in the foul blood of the falsest +friend that friendship ever saw in the world;" and as she uttered these +words she paced the room holding the unsheathed dagger, with such +irregular and disordered steps, and such gestures that one would have +supposed her to have lost her senses, and taken her for some violent +desperado instead of a delicate woman. + +Anselmo, hidden behind some tapestries where he had concealed himself, +beheld and was amazed at all, and already felt that what he had seen and +heard was a sufficient answer to even greater suspicions; and he would +have been now well pleased if the proof afforded by Lothario's coming +were dispensed with, as he feared some sudden mishap; but as he was on +the point of showing himself and coming forth to embrace and undeceive +his wife he paused as he saw Leonela returning, leading Lothario. Camilla +when she saw him, drawing a long line in front of her on the floor with +the dagger, said to him, "Lothario, pay attention to what I say to thee: +if by any chance thou darest to cross this line thou seest, or even +approach it, the instant I see thee attempt it that same instant will I +pierce my bosom with this dagger that I hold in my hand; and before thou +answerest me a word desire thee to listen to a few from me, and +afterwards thou shalt reply as may please thee. First, I desire thee to +tell me, Lothario, if thou knowest my husband Anselmo, and in what light +thou regardest him; and secondly I desire to know if thou knowest me too. +Answer me this, without embarrassment or reflecting deeply what thou wilt +answer, for they are no riddles I put to thee." + +Lothario was not so dull but that from the first moment when Camilla +directed him to make Anselmo hide himself he understood what she intended +to do, and therefore he fell in with her idea so readily and promptly +that between them they made the imposture look more true than truth; so +he answered her thus: "I did not think, fair Camilla, that thou wert +calling me to ask questions so remote from the object with which I come; +but if it is to defer the promised reward thou art doing so, thou mightst +have put it off still longer, for the longing for happiness gives the +more distress the nearer comes the hope of gaining it; but lest thou +shouldst say that I do not answer thy questions, I say that I know thy +husband Anselmo, and that we have known each other from our earliest +years; I will not speak of what thou too knowest, of our friendship, that +I may not compel myself to testify against the wrong that love, the +mighty excuse for greater errors, makes me inflict upon him. Thee I know +and hold in the same estimation as he does, for were it not so I had not +for a lesser prize acted in opposition to what I owe to my station and +the holy laws of true friendship, now broken and violated by me through +that powerful enemy, love." + +"If thou dost confess that," returned Camilla, "mortal enemy of all that +rightly deserves to be loved, with what face dost thou dare to come +before one whom thou knowest to be the mirror wherein he is reflected on +whom thou shouldst look to see how unworthily thou him? But, woe is me, I +now comprehend what has made thee give so little heed to what thou owest +to thyself; it must have been some freedom of mine, for I will not call +it immodesty, as it did not proceed from any deliberate intention, but +from some heedlessness such as women are guilty of through inadvertence +when they think they have no occasion for reserve. But tell me, traitor, +when did I by word or sign give a reply to thy prayers that could awaken +in thee a shadow of hope of attaining thy base wishes? When were not thy +professions of love sternly and scornfully rejected and rebuked? When +were thy frequent pledges and still more frequent gifts believed or +accepted? But as I am persuaded that no one can long persevere in the +attempt to win love unsustained by some hope, I am willing to attribute +to myself the blame of thy assurance, for no doubt some thoughtlessness +of mine has all this time fostered thy hopes; and therefore will I punish +myself and inflict upon myself the penalty thy guilt deserves. And that +thou mayest see that being so relentless to myself I cannot possibly be +otherwise to thee, I have summoned thee to be a witness of the sacrifice +I mean to offer to the injured honour of my honoured husband, wronged by +thee with all the assiduity thou wert capable of, and by me too through +want of caution in avoiding every occasion, if I have given any, of +encouraging and sanctioning thy base designs. Once more I say the +suspicion in my mind that some imprudence of mine has engendered these +lawless thoughts in thee, is what causes me most distress and what I +desire most to punish with my own hands, for were any other instrument of +punishment employed my error might become perhaps more widely known; but +before I do so, in my death I mean to inflict death, and take with me one +that will fully satisfy my longing for the revenge I hope for and have; +for I shall see, wheresoever it may be that I go, the penalty awarded by +inflexible, unswerving justice on him who has placed me in a position so +desperate." + +As she uttered these words, with incredible energy and swiftness she flew +upon Lothario with the naked dagger, so manifestly bent on burying it in +his breast that he was almost uncertain whether these demonstrations were +real or feigned, for he was obliged to have recourse to all his skill and +strength to prevent her from striking him; and with such reality did she +act this strange farce and mystification that, to give it a colour of +truth, she determined to stain it with her own blood; for perceiving, or +pretending, that she could not wound Lothario, she said, "Fate, it seems, +will not grant my just desire complete satisfaction, but it will not be +able to keep me from satisfying it partially at least;" and making an +effort to free the hand with the dagger which Lothario held in his grasp, +she released it, and directing the point to a place where it could not +inflict a deep wound, she plunged it into her left side high up close to +the shoulder, and then allowed herself to fall to the ground as if in a +faint. + +Leonela and Lothario stood amazed and astounded at the catastrophe, and +seeing Camilla stretched on the ground and bathed in her blood they were +still uncertain as to the true nature of the act. Lothario, terrified and +breathless, ran in haste to pluck out the dagger; but when he saw how +slight the wound was he was relieved of his fears and once more admired +the subtlety, coolness, and ready wit of the fair Camilla; and the better +to support the part he had to play he began to utter profuse and doleful +lamentations over her body as if she were dead, invoking maledictions not +only on himself but also on him who had been the means of placing him in +such a position: and knowing that his friend Anselmo heard him he spoke +in such a way as to make a listener feel much more pity for him than for +Camilla, even though he supposed her dead. Leonela took her up in her +arms and laid her on the bed, entreating Lothario to go in quest of some +one to attend to her wound in secret, and at the same time asking his +advice and opinion as to what they should say to Anselmo about his lady's +wound if he should chance to return before it was healed. He replied they +might say what they liked, for he was not in a state to give advice that +would be of any use; all he could tell her was to try and stanch the +blood, as he was going where he should never more be seen; and with every +appearance of deep grief and sorrow he left the house; but when he found +himself alone, and where there was nobody to see him, he crossed himself +unceasingly, lost in wonder at the adroitness of Camilla and the +consistent acting of Leonela. He reflected how convinced Anselmo would be +that he had a second Portia for a wife, and he looked forward anxiously +to meeting him in order to rejoice together over falsehood and truth the +most craftily veiled that could be imagined. + +Leonela, as he told her, stanched her lady's blood, which was no more +than sufficed to support her deception; and washing the wound with a +little wine she bound it up to the best of her skill, talking all the +time she was tending her in a strain that, even if nothing else had been +said before, would have been enough to assure Anselmo that he had in +Camilla a model of purity. To Leonela's words Camilla added her own, +calling herself cowardly and wanting in spirit, since she had not enough +at the time she had most need of it to rid herself of the life she so +much loathed. She asked her attendant's advice as to whether or not she +ought to inform her beloved husband of all that had happened, but the +other bade her say nothing about it, as she would lay upon him the +obligation of taking vengeance on Lothario, which he could not do but at +great risk to himself; and it was the duty of a true wife not to give her +husband provocation to quarrel, but, on the contrary, to remove it as far +as possible from him. + +Camilla replied that she believed she was right and that she would follow +her advice, but at any rate it would be well to consider how she was to +explain the wound to Anselmo, for he could not help seeing it; to which +Leonela answered that she did not know how to tell a lie even in jest. + +"How then can I know, my dear?" said Camilla, "for I should not dare to +forge or keep up a falsehood if my life depended on it. If we can think +of no escape from this difficulty, it will be better to tell him the +plain truth than that he should find us out in an untrue story." + +"Be not uneasy, senora," said Leonela; "between this and to-morrow I will +think of what we must say to him, and perhaps the wound being where it is +it can be hidden from his sight, and Heaven will be pleased to aid us in +a purpose so good and honourable. Compose yourself, senora, and endeavour +to calm your excitement lest my lord find you agitated; and leave the +rest to my care and God's, who always supports good intentions." + +Anselmo had with the deepest attention listened to and seen played out +the tragedy of the death of his honour, which the performers acted with +such wonderfully effective truth that it seemed as if they had become the +realities of the parts they played. He longed for night and an +opportunity of escaping from the house to go and see his good friend +Lothario, and with him give vent to his joy over the precious pearl he +had gained in having established his wife's purity. Both mistress and +maid took care to give him time and opportunity to get away, and taking +advantage of it he made his escape, and at once went in quest of +Lothario, and it would be impossible to describe how he embraced him when +he found him, and the things he said to him in the joy of his heart, and +the praises he bestowed upon Camilla; all which Lothario listened to +without being able to show any pleasure, for he could not forget how +deceived his friend was, and how dishonourably he had wronged him; and +though Anselmo could see that Lothario was not glad, still he imagined it +was only because he had left Camilla wounded and had been himself the +cause of it; and so among other things he told him not to be distressed +about Camilla's accident, for, as they had agreed to hide it from him, +the wound was evidently trifling; and that being so, he had no cause for +fear, but should henceforward be of good cheer and rejoice with him, +seeing that by his means and adroitness he found himself raised to the +greatest height of happiness that he could have ventured to hope for, and +desired no better pastime than making verses in praise of Camilla that +would preserve her name for all time to come. Lothario commended his +purpose, and promised on his own part to aid him in raising a monument so +glorious. + +And so Anselmo was left the most charmingly hoodwinked man there could be +in the world. He himself, persuaded he was conducting the instrument of +his glory, led home by the hand him who had been the utter destruction of +his good name; whom Camilla received with averted countenance, though +with smiles in her heart. The deception was carried on for some time, +until at the end of a few months Fortune turned her wheel and the guilt +which had been until then so skilfully concealed was published abroad, +and Anselmo paid with his life the penalty of his ill-advised curiosity. + +Chapter XXXV. - +Which treats of the heroic and prodigious battle Don Quixote had with +certain skins of red wine, and brings the novel of "the ill-advised +curiosity" to a close + +There remained but little more of the novel to be read, when Sancho Panza +burst forth in wild excitement from the garret where Don Quixote was +lying, shouting, "Run, sirs! quick; and help my master, who is in the +thick of the toughest and stiffest battle I ever laid eyes on. By the +living God he has given the giant, the enemy of my lady the Princess +Micomicona, such a slash that he has sliced his head clean off as if it +were a turnip." + +"What are you talking about, brother?" said the curate, pausing as he was +about to read the remainder of the novel. "Are you in your senses, +Sancho? How the devil can it be as you say, when the giant is two +thousand leagues away?" + +Here they heard a loud noise in the chamber, and Don Quixote shouting +out, "Stand, thief, brigand, villain; now I have got thee, and thy +scimitar shall not avail thee!" And then it seemed as though he were +slashing vigorously at the wall. + +"Don't stop to listen," said Sancho, "but go in and part them or help my +master: though there is no need of that now, for no doubt the giant is +dead by this time and giving account to God of his past wicked life; for +I saw the blood flowing on the ground, and the head cut off and fallen on +one side, and it is as big as a large wine-skin." + +"May I die," said the landlord at this, "if Don Quixote or Don Devil has +not been slashing some of the skins of red wine that stand full at his +bed's head, and the spilt wine must be what this good fellow takes for +blood;" and so saying he went into the room and the rest after him, and +there they found Don Quixote in the strangest costume in the world. He +was in his shirt, which was not long enough in front to cover his thighs +completely and was six fingers shorter behind; his legs were very long +and lean, covered with hair, and anything but clean; on his head he had a +little greasy red cap that belonged to the host, round his left arm he +had rolled the blanket of the bed, to which Sancho, for reasons best +known to himself, owed a grudge, and in his right hand he held his +unsheathed sword, with which he was slashing about on all sides, uttering +exclamations as if he were actually fighting some giant: and the best of +it was his eyes were not open, for he was fast asleep, and dreaming that +he was doing battle with the giant. For his imagination was so wrought +upon by the adventure he was going to accomplish, that it made him dream +he had already reached the kingdom of Micomicon, and was engaged in +combat with his enemy; and believing he was laying on the giant, he had +given so many sword cuts to the skins that the whole room was full of +wine. On seeing this the landlord was so enraged that he fell on Don +Quixote, and with his clenched fist began to pummel him in such a way, +that if Cardenio and the curate had not dragged him off, he would have +brought the war of the giant to an end. But in spite of all the poor +gentleman never woke until the barber brought a great pot of cold water +from the well and flung it with one dash all over his body, on which Don +Quixote woke up, but not so completely as to understand what was the +matter. Dorothea, seeing how short and slight his attire was, would not +go in to witness the battle between her champion and her opponent. As for +Sancho, he went searching all over the floor for the head of the giant, +and not finding it he said, "I see now that it's all enchantment in this +house; for the last time, on this very spot where I am now, I got ever so +many thumps without knowing who gave them to me, or being able to see +anybody; and now this head is not to be seen anywhere about, though I saw +it cut off with my own eyes and the blood running from the body as if +from a fountain." + +"What blood and fountains are you talking about, enemy of God and his +saints?" said the landlord. "Don't you see, you thief, that the blood and +the fountain are only these skins here that have been stabbed and the red +wine swimming all over the room?--and I wish I saw the soul of him that +stabbed them swimming in hell." + +"I know nothing about that," said Sancho; "all I know is it will be my +bad luck that through not finding this head my county will melt away like +salt in water;"--for Sancho awake was worse than his master asleep, so +much had his master's promises addled his wits. + +The landlord was beside himself at the coolness of the squire and the +mischievous doings of the master, and swore it should not be like the +last time when they went without paying; and that their privileges of +chivalry should not hold good this time to let one or other of them off +without paying, even to the cost of the plugs that would have to be put +to the damaged wine-skins. The curate was holding Don Quixote's hands, +who, fancying he had now ended the adventure and was in the presence of +the Princess Micomicona, knelt before the curate and said, "Exalted and +beauteous lady, your highness may live from this day forth fearless of +any harm this base being could do you; and I too from this day forth am +released from the promise I gave you, since by the help of God on high +and by the favour of her by whom I live and breathe, I have fulfilled it +so successfully." + +"Did not I say so?" said Sancho on hearing this. "You see I wasn't drunk; +there you see my master has already salted the giant; there's no doubt +about the bulls; my county is all right!" + +Who could have helped laughing at the absurdities of the pair, master and +man? And laugh they did, all except the landlord, who cursed himself; but +at length the barber, Cardenio, and the curate contrived with no small +trouble to get Don Quixote on the bed, and he fell asleep with every +appearance of excessive weariness. They left him to sleep, and came out +to the gate of the inn to console Sancho Panza on not having found the +head of the giant; but much more work had they to appease the landlord, +who was furious at the sudden death of his wine-skins; and said the +landlady half scolding, half crying, "At an evil moment and in an unlucky +hour he came into my house, this knight-errant--would that I had never +set eyes on him, for dear he has cost me; the last time he went off with +the overnight score against him for supper, bed, straw, and barley, for +himself and his squire and a hack and an ass, saying he was a knight +adventurer--God send unlucky adventures to him and all the adventurers in +the world--and therefore not bound to pay anything, for it was so settled +by the knight-errantry tariff: and then, all because of him, came the +other gentleman and carried off my tail, and gives it back more than two +cuartillos the worse, all stripped of its hair, so that it is no use for +my husband's purpose; and then, for a finishing touch to all, to burst my +wine-skins and spill my wine! I wish I saw his own blood spilt! But let +him not deceive himself, for, by the bones of my father and the shade of +my mother, they shall pay me down every quarts; or my name is not what it +is, and I am not my father's daughter." All this and more to the same +effect the landlady delivered with great irritation, and her good maid +Maritornes backed her up, while the daughter held her peace and smiled +from time to time. The curate smoothed matters by promising to make good +all losses to the best of his power, not only as regarded the wine-skins +but also the wine, and above all the depreciation of the tail which they +set such store by. Dorothea comforted Sancho, telling him that she +pledged herself, as soon as it should appear certain that his master had +decapitated the giant, and she found herself peacefully established in +her kingdom, to bestow upon him the best county there was in it. With +this Sancho consoled himself, and assured the princess she might rely +upon it that he had seen the head of the giant, and more by token it had +a beard that reached to the girdle, and that if it was not to be seen now +it was because everything that happened in that house went by +enchantment, as he himself had proved the last time he had lodged there. +Dorothea said she fully believed it, and that he need not be uneasy, for +all would go well and turn out as he wished. All therefore being +appeased, the curate was anxious to go on with the novel, as he saw there +was but little more left to read. Dorothea and the others begged him to +finish it, and he, as he was willing to please them, and enjoyed reading +it himself, continued the tale in these words: + +The result was, that from the confidence Anselmo felt in Camilla's +virtue, he lived happy and free from anxiety, and Camilla purposely +looked coldly on Lothario, that Anselmo might suppose her feelings +towards him to be the opposite of what they were; and the better to +support the position, Lothario begged to be excused from coming to the +house, as the displeasure with which Camilla regarded his presence was +plain to be seen. But the befooled Anselmo said he would on no account +allow such a thing, and so in a thousand ways he became the author of his +own dishonour, while he believed he was insuring his happiness. Meanwhile +the satisfaction with which Leonela saw herself empowered to carry on her +amour reached such a height that, regardless of everything else, she +followed her inclinations unrestrainedly, feeling confident that her +mistress would screen her, and even show her how to manage it safely. At +last one night Anselmo heard footsteps in Leonela's room, and on trying +to enter to see who it was, he found that the door was held against him, +which made him all the more determined to open it; and exerting his +strength he forced it open, and entered the room in time to see a man +leaping through the window into the street. He ran quickly to seize him +or discover who he was, but he was unable to effect either purpose, for +Leonela flung her arms round him crying, "Be calm, senor; do not give way +to passion or follow him who has escaped from this; he belongs to me, and +in fact he is my husband." + +Anselmo would not believe it, but blind with rage drew a dagger and +threatened to stab Leonela, bidding her tell the truth or he would kill +her. She, in her fear, not knowing what she was saying, exclaimed, "Do +not kill me, senor, for I can tell you things more important than any you +can imagine." + +"Tell me then at once or thou diest," said Anselmo. + +"It would be impossible for me now," said Leonela, "I am so agitated: +leave me till to-morrow, and then you shall hear from me what will fill +you with astonishment; but rest assured that he who leaped through the +window is a young man of this city, who has given me his promise to +become my husband." + +Anselmo was appeased with this, and was content to wait the time she +asked of him, for he never expected to hear anything against Camilla, so +satisfied and sure of her virtue was he; and so he quitted the room, and +left Leonela locked in, telling her she should not come out until she had +told him all she had to make known to him. He went at once to see +Camilla, and tell her, as he did, all that had passed between him and her +handmaid, and the promise she had given him to inform him matters of +serious importance. + +There is no need of saying whether Camilla was agitated or not, for so +great was her fear and dismay, that, making sure, as she had good reason +to do, that Leonela would tell Anselmo all she knew of her faithlessness, +she had not the courage to wait and see if her suspicions were confirmed; +and that same night, as soon as she thought that Anselmo was asleep, she +packed up the most valuable jewels she had and some money, and without +being observed by anybody escaped from the house and betook herself to +Lothario's, to whom she related what had occurred, imploring him to +convey her to some place of safety or fly with her where they might be +safe from Anselmo. The state of perplexity to which Camilla reduced +Lothario was such that he was unable to utter a word in reply, still less +to decide upon what he should do. At length he resolved to conduct her to +a convent of which a sister of his was prioress; Camilla agreed to this, +and with the speed which the circumstances demanded, Lothario took her to +the convent and left her there, and then himself quitted the city without +letting anyone know of his departure. + +As soon as daylight came Anselmo, without missing Camilla from his side, +rose cager to learn what Leonela had to tell him, and hastened to the +room where he had locked her in. He opened the door, entered, but found +no Leonela; all he found was some sheets knotted to the window, a plain +proof that she had let herself down from it and escaped. He returned, +uneasy, to tell Camilla, but not finding her in bed or anywhere in the +house he was lost in amazement. He asked the servants of the house about +her, but none of them could give him any explanation. As he was going in +search of Camilla it happened by chance that he observed her boxes were +lying open, and that the greater part of her jewels were gone; and now he +became fully aware of his disgrace, and that Leonela was not the cause of +his misfortune; and, just as he was, without delaying to dress himself +completely, he repaired, sad at heart and dejected, to his friend +Lothario to make known his sorrow to him; but when he failed to find him +and the servants reported that he had been absent from his house all +night and had taken with him all the money he had, he felt as though he +were losing his senses; and to make all complete on returning to his own +house he found it deserted and empty, not one of all his servants, male +or female, remaining in it. He knew not what to think, or say, or do, and +his reason seemed to be deserting him little by little. He reviewed his +position, and saw himself in a moment left without wife, friend, or +servants, abandoned, he felt, by the heaven above him, and more than all +robbed of his honour, for in Camilla's disappearance he saw his own ruin. +After long reflection he resolved at last to go to his friend's village, +where he had been staying when he afforded opportunities for the +contrivance of this complication of misfortune. He locked the doors of +his house, mounted his horse, and with a broken spirit set out on his +journey; but he had hardly gone half-way when, harassed by his +reflections, he had to dismount and tie his horse to a tree, at the foot +of which he threw himself, giving vent to piteous heartrending sighs; and +there he remained till nearly nightfall, when he observed a man +approaching on horseback from the city, of whom, after saluting him, he +asked what was the news in Florence. + +The citizen replied, "The strangest that have been heard for many a day; +for it is reported abroad that Lothario, the great friend of the wealthy +Anselmo, who lived at San Giovanni, carried off last night Camilla, the +wife of Anselmo, who also has disappeared. All this has been told by a +maid-servant of Camilla's, whom the governor found last night lowering +herself by a sheet from the windows of Anselmo's house. I know not +indeed, precisely, how the affair came to pass; all I know is that the +whole city is wondering at the occurrence, for no one could have expected +a thing of the kind, seeing the great and intimate friendship that +existed between them, so great, they say, that they were called 'The Two +Friends.'" + +"Is it known at all," said Anselmo, "what road Lothario and Camilla +took?" + +"Not in the least," said the citizen, "though the governor has been very +active in searching for them." + +"God speed you, senor," said Anselmo. + +"God be with you," said the citizen and went his way. + +This disastrous intelligence almost robbed Anselmo not only of his senses +but of his life. He got up as well as he was able and reached the house +of his friend, who as yet knew nothing of his misfortune, but seeing him +come pale, worn, and haggard, perceived that he was suffering some heavy +affliction. Anselmo at once begged to be allowed to retire to rest, and +to be given writing materials. His wish was complied with and he was left +lying down and alone, for he desired this, and even that the door should +be locked. Finding himself alone he so took to heart the thought of his +misfortune that by the signs of death he felt within him he knew well his +life was drawing to a close, and therefore he resolved to leave behind +him a declaration of the cause of his strange end. He began to write, but +before he had put down all he meant to say, his breath failed him and he +yielded up his life, a victim to the suffering which his ill-advised +curiosity had entailed upon him. The master of the house observing that +it was now late and that Anselmo did not call, determined to go in and +ascertain if his indisposition was increasing, and found him lying on his +face, his body partly in the bed, partly on the writing-table, on which +he lay with the written paper open and the pen still in his hand. Having +first called to him without receiving any answer, his host approached +him, and taking him by the hand, found that it was cold, and saw that he +was dead. Greatly surprised and distressed he summoned the household to +witness the sad fate which had befallen Anselmo; and then he read the +paper, the handwriting of which he recognised as his, and which contained +these words: + +"A foolish and ill-advised desire has robbed me of life. If the news of +my death should reach the ears of Camilla, let her know that I forgive +her, for she was not bound to perform miracles, nor ought I to have +required her to perform them; and since I have been the author of my own +dishonour, there is no reason why-" + +So far Anselmo had written, and thus it was plain that at this point, +before he could finish what he had to say, his life came to an end. The +next day his friend sent intelligence of his death to his relatives, who +had already ascertained his misfortune, as well as the convent where +Camilla lay almost on the point of accompanying her husband on that +inevitable journey, not on account of the tidings of his death, but +because of those she received of her lover's departure. Although she saw +herself a widow, it is said she refused either to quit the convent or +take the veil, until, not long afterwards, intelligence reached her that +Lothario had been killed in a battle in which M. de Lautrec had been +recently engaged with the Great Captain Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordova in +the kingdom of Naples, whither her too late repentant lover had repaired. +On learning this Camilla took the veil, and shortly afterwards died, worn +out by grief and melancholy. This was the end of all three, an end that +came of a thoughtless beginning. + +"I like this novel," said the curate; "but I cannot persuade myself of +its truth; and if it has been invented, the author's invention is faulty, +for it is impossible to imagine any husband so foolish as to try such a +costly experiment as Anselmo's. If it had been represented as occurring +between a gallant and his mistress it might pass; but between husband and +wife there is something of an impossibility about it. As to the way in +which the story is told, however, I have no fault to find." + +Chapter XXXVI. - +Which treats of more curious incidents that occurred at the inn + +Just at that instant the landlord, who was standing at the gate of the +inn, exclaimed, "Here comes a fine troop of guests; if they stop here we +may say gaudeamus." + +"What are they?" said Cardenio. + +"Four men," said the landlord, "riding a la jineta, with lances and +bucklers, and all with black veils, and with them there is a woman in +white on a side-saddle, whose face is also veiled, and two attendants on +foot." + +"Are they very near?" said the curate. + +"So near," answered the landlord, "that here they come." + +Hearing this Dorothea covered her face, and Cardenio retreated into Don +Quixote's room, and they hardly had time to do so before the whole party +the host had described entered the inn, and the four that were on +horseback, who were of highbred appearance and bearing, dismounted, and +came forward to take down the woman who rode on the side-saddle, and one +of them taking her in his arms placed her in a chair that stood at the +entrance of the room where Cardenio had hidden himself. All this time +neither she nor they had removed their veils or spoken a word, only on +sitting down on the chair the woman gave a deep sigh and let her arms +fall like one that was ill and weak. The attendants on foot then led the +horses away to the stable. Observing this the curate, curious to know who +these people in such a dress and preserving such silence were, went to +where the servants were standing and put the question to one of them, who +answered him. + +"Faith, sir, I cannot tell you who they are, I only know they seem to be +people of distinction, particularly he who advanced to take the lady you +saw in his arms; and I say so because all the rest show him respect, and +nothing is done except what he directs and orders." + +"And the lady, who is she?" asked the curate. + +"That I cannot tell you either," said the servant, "for I have not seen +her face all the way: I have indeed heard her sigh many times and utter +such groans that she seems to be giving up the ghost every time; but it +is no wonder if we do not know more than we have told you, as my comrade +and I have only been in their company two days, for having met us on the +road they begged and persuaded us to accompany them to Andalusia, +promising to pay us well." + +"And have you heard any of them called by his name?" asked the curate. + +"No, indeed," replied the servant; "they all preserve a marvellous +silence on the road, for not a sound is to be heard among them except the +poor lady's sighs and sobs, which make us pity her; and we feel sure that +wherever it is she is going, it is against her will, and as far as one +can judge from her dress she is a nun or, what is more likely, about to +become one; and perhaps it is because taking the vows is not of her own +free will, that she is so unhappy as she seems to be." + +"That may well be," said the curate, and leaving them he returned to +where Dorothea was, who, hearing the veiled lady sigh, moved by natural +compassion drew near to her and said, "What are you suffering from, +senora? If it be anything that women are accustomed and know how to +relieve, I offer you my services with all my heart." + +To this the unhappy lady made no reply; and though Dorothea repeated her +offers more earnestly she still kept silence, until the gentleman with +the veil, who, the servant said, was obeyed by the rest, approached and +said to Dorothea, "Do not give yourself the trouble, senora, of making +any offers to that woman, for it is her way to give no thanks for +anything that is done for her; and do not try to make her answer unless +you want to hear some lie from her lips." + +"I have never told a lie," was the immediate reply of her who had been +silent until now; "on the contrary, it is because I am so truthful and so +ignorant of lying devices that I am now in this miserable condition; and +this I call you yourself to witness, for it is my unstained truth that +has made you false and a liar." + +Cardenio heard these words clearly and distinctly, being quite close to +the speaker, for there was only the door of Don Quixote's room between +them, and the instant he did so, uttering a loud exclamation he cried, +"Good God! what is this I hear? What voice is this that has reached my +ears?" Startled at the voice the lady turned her head; and not seeing the +speaker she stood up and attempted to enter the room; observing which the +gentleman held her back, preventing her from moving a step. In her +agitation and sudden movement the silk with which she had covered her +face fell off and disclosed a countenance of incomparable and marvellous +beauty, but pale and terrified; for she kept turning her eyes, everywhere +she could direct her gaze, with an eagerness that made her look as if she +had lost her senses, and so marked that it excited the pity of Dorothea +and all who beheld her, though they knew not what caused it. The +gentleman grasped her firmly by the shoulders, and being so fully +occupied with holding her back, he was unable to put a hand to his veil +which was falling off, as it did at length entirely, and Dorothea, who +was holding the lady in her arms, raising her eyes saw that he who +likewise held her was her husband, Don Fernando. The instant she +recognised him, with a prolonged plaintive cry drawn from the depths of +her heart, she fell backwards fainting, and but for the barber being +close by to catch her in his arms, she would have fallen completely to +the ground. The curate at once hastened to uncover her face and throw +water on it, and as he did so Don Fernando, for he it was who held the +other in his arms, recognised her and stood as if death-stricken by the +sight; not, however, relaxing his grasp of Luscinda, for it was she that +was struggling to release herself from his hold, having recognised +Cardenio by his voice, as he had recognised her. Cardenio also heard +Dorothea's cry as she fell fainting, and imagining that it came from his +Luscinda burst forth in terror from the room, and the first thing he saw +was Don Fernando with Luscinda in his arms. Don Fernando, too, knew +Cardenio at once; and all three, Luscinda, Cardenio, and Dorothea, stood +in silent amazement scarcely knowing what had happened to them. + +They gazed at one another without speaking, Dorothea at Don Fernando, Don +Fernando at Cardenio, Cardenio at Luscinda, and Luscinda at Cardenio. The +first to break silence was Luscinda, who thus addressed Don Fernando: +"Leave me, Senor Don Fernando, for the sake of what you owe to yourself; +if no other reason will induce you, leave me to cling to the wall of +which I am the ivy, to the support from which neither your importunities, +nor your threats, nor your promises, nor your gifts have been able to +detach me. See how Heaven, by ways strange and hidden from our sight, has +brought me face to face with my true husband; and well you know by +dear-bought experience that death alone will be able to efface him from +my memory. May this plain declaration, then, lead you, as you can do +nothing else, to turn your love into rage, your affection into +resentment, and so to take my life; for if I yield it up in the presence +of my beloved husband I count it well bestowed; it may be by my death he +will be convinced that I kept my faith to him to the last moment of +life." + +Meanwhile Dorothea had come to herself, and had heard Luscinda's words, +by means of which she divined who she was; but seeing that Don Fernando +did not yet release her or reply to her, summoning up her resolution as +well as she could she rose and knelt at his feet, and with a flood of +bright and touching tears addressed him thus: + +"If, my lord, the beams of that sun that thou holdest eclipsed in thine +arms did not dazzle and rob thine eyes of sight thou wouldst have seen by +this time that she who kneels at thy feet is, so long as thou wilt have +it so, the unhappy and unfortunate Dorothea. I am that lowly peasant girl +whom thou in thy goodness or for thy pleasure wouldst raise high enough +to call herself thine; I am she who in the seclusion of innocence led a +contented life until at the voice of thy importunity, and thy true and +tender passion, as it seemed, she opened the gates of her modesty and +surrendered to thee the keys of her liberty; a gift received by thee but +thanklessly, as is clearly shown by my forced retreat to the place where +thou dost find me, and by thy appearance under the circumstances in which +I see thee. Nevertheless, I would not have thee suppose that I have come +here driven by my shame; it is only grief and sorrow at seeing myself +forgotten by thee that have led me. It was thy will to make me thine, and +thou didst so follow thy will, that now, even though thou repentest, thou +canst not help being mine. Bethink thee, my lord, the unsurpassable +affection I bear thee may compensate for the beauty and noble birth for +which thou wouldst desert me. Thou canst not be the fair Luscinda's +because thou art mine, nor can she be thine because she is Cardenio's; +and it will be easier, remember, to bend thy will to love one who adores +thee, than to lead one to love thee who abhors thee now. Thou didst +address thyself to my simplicity, thou didst lay siege to my virtue, thou +wert not ignorant of my station, well dost thou know how I yielded wholly +to thy will; there is no ground or reason for thee to plead deception, +and if it be so, as it is, and if thou art a Christian as thou art a +gentleman, why dost thou by such subterfuges put off making me as happy +at last as thou didst at first? And if thou wilt not have me for what I +am, thy true and lawful wife, at least take and accept me as thy slave, +for so long as I am thine I will count myself happy and fortunate. Do not +by deserting me let my shame become the talk of the gossips in the +streets; make not the old age of my parents miserable; for the loyal +services they as faithful vassals have ever rendered thine are not +deserving of such a return; and if thou thinkest it will debase thy blood +to mingle it with mine, reflect that there is little or no nobility in +the world that has not travelled the same road, and that in illustrious +lineages it is not the woman's blood that is of account; and, moreover, +that true nobility consists in virtue, and if thou art wanting in that, +refusing me what in justice thou owest me, then even I have higher claims +to nobility than thine. To make an end, senor, these are my last words to +thee: whether thou wilt, or wilt not, I am thy wife; witness thy words, +which must not and ought not to be false, if thou dost pride thyself on +that for want of which thou scornest me; witness the pledge which thou +didst give me, and witness Heaven, which thou thyself didst call to +witness the promise thou hadst made me; and if all this fail, thy own +conscience will not fail to lift up its silent voice in the midst of all +thy gaiety, and vindicate the truth of what I say and mar thy highest +pleasure and enjoyment." + +All this and more the injured Dorothea delivered with such earnest +feeling and such tears that all present, even those who came with Don +Fernando, were constrained to join her in them. Don Fernando listened to +her without replying, until, ceasing to speak, she gave way to such sobs +and sighs that it must have been a heart of brass that was not softened +by the sight of so great sorrow. Luscinda stood regarding her with no +less compassion for her sufferings than admiration for her intelligence +and beauty, and would have gone to her to say some words of comfort to +her, but was prevented by Don Fernando's grasp which held her fast. He, +overwhelmed with confusion and astonishment, after regarding Dorothea for +some moments with a fixed gaze, opened his arms, and, releasing Luscinda, +exclaimed: + +"Thou hast conquered, fair Dorothea, thou hast conquered, for it is +impossible to have the heart to deny the united force of so many truths." + +Luscinda in her feebleness was on the point of falling to the ground when +Don Fernando released her, but Cardenio, who stood near, having retreated +behind Don Fernando to escape recognition, casting fear aside and +regardless of what might happen, ran forward to support her, and said as +he clasped her in his arms, "If Heaven in its compassion is willing to +let thee rest at last, mistress of my heart, true, constant, and fair, +nowhere canst thou rest more safely than in these arms that now receive +thee, and received thee before when fortune permitted me to call thee +mine." + +At these words Luscinda looked up at Cardenio, at first beginning to +recognise him by his voice and then satisfying herself by her eyes that +it was he, and hardly knowing what she did, and heedless of all +considerations of decorum, she flung her arms around his neck and +pressing her face close to his, said, "Yes, my dear lord, you are the +true master of this your slave, even though adverse fate interpose again, +and fresh dangers threaten this life that hangs on yours." + +A strange sight was this for Don Fernando and those that stood around, +filled with surprise at an incident so unlooked for. Dorothea fancied +that Don Fernando changed colour and looked as though he meant to take +vengeance on Cardenio, for she observed him put his hand to his sword; +and the instant the idea struck her, with wonderful quickness she clasped +him round the knees, and kissing them and holding him so as to prevent +his moving, she said, while her tears continued to flow, "What is it thou +wouldst do, my only refuge, in this unforeseen event? Thou hast thy wife +at thy feet, and she whom thou wouldst have for thy wife is in the arms +of her husband: reflect whether it will be right for thee, whether it +will be possible for thee to undo what Heaven has done, or whether it +will be becoming in thee to seek to raise her to be thy mate who in spite +of every obstacle, and strong in her truth and constancy, is before thine +eyes, bathing with the tears of love the face and bosom of her lawful +husband. For God's sake I entreat of thee, for thine own I implore thee, +let not this open manifestation rouse thy anger; but rather so calm it as +to allow these two lovers to live in peace and quiet without any +interference from thee so long as Heaven permits them; and in so doing +thou wilt prove the generosity of thy lofty noble spirit, and the world +shall see that with thee reason has more influence than passion." + +All the time Dorothea was speaking, Cardenio, though he held Luscinda in +his arms, never took his eyes off Don Fernando, determined, if he saw him +make any hostile movement, to try and defend himself and resist as best +he could all who might assail him, though it should cost him his life. +But now Don Fernando's friends, as well as the curate and the barber, who +had been present all the while, not forgetting the worthy Sancho Panza, +ran forward and gathered round Don Fernando, entreating him to have +regard for the tears of Dorothea, and not suffer her reasonable hopes to +be disappointed, since, as they firmly believed, what she said was but +the truth; and bidding him observe that it was not, as it might seem, by +accident, but by a special disposition of Providence that they had all +met in a place where no one could have expected a meeting. And the curate +bade him remember that only death could part Luscinda from Cardenio; that +even if some sword were to separate them they would think their death +most happy; and that in a case that admitted of no remedy his wisest +course was, by conquering and putting a constraint upon himself, to show +a generous mind, and of his own accord suffer these two to enjoy the +happiness Heaven had granted them. He bade him, too, turn his eyes upon +the beauty of Dorothea and he would see that few if any could equal much +less excel her; while to that beauty should be added her modesty and the +surpassing love she bore him. But besides all this, he reminded him that +if he prided himself on being a gentleman and a Christian, he could not +do otherwise than keep his plighted word; and that in doing so he would +obey God and meet the approval of all sensible people, who know and +recognised it to be the privilege of beauty, even in one of humble birth, +provided virtue accompany it, to be able to raise itself to the level of +any rank, without any slur upon him who places it upon an equality with +himself; and furthermore that when the potent sway of passion asserts +itself, so long as there be no mixture of sin in it, he is not to be +blamed who gives way to it. + +To be brief, they added to these such other forcible arguments that Don +Fernando's manly heart, being after all nourished by noble blood, was +touched, and yielded to the truth which, even had he wished it, he could +not gainsay; and he showed his submission, and acceptance of the good +advice that had been offered to him, by stooping down and embracing +Dorothea, saying to her, "Rise, dear lady, it is not right that what I +hold in my heart should be kneeling at my feet; and if until now I have +shown no sign of what I own, it may have been by Heaven's decree in order +that, seeing the constancy with which you love me, I may learn to value +you as you deserve. What I entreat of you is that you reproach me not +with my transgression and grievous wrong-doing; for the same cause and +force that drove me to make you mine impelled me to struggle against +being yours; and to prove this, turn and look at the eyes of the now +happy Luscinda, and you will see in them an excuse for all my errors: and +as she has found and gained the object of her desires, and I have found +in you what satisfies all my wishes, may she live in peace and +contentment as many happy years with her Cardenio, as on my knees I pray +Heaven to allow me to live with my Dorothea;" and with these words he +once more embraced her and pressed his face to hers with so much +tenderness that he had to take great heed to keep his tears from +completing the proof of his love and repentance in the sight of all. Not +so Luscinda, and Cardenio, and almost all the others, for they shed so +many tears, some in their own happiness, some at that of the others, that +one would have supposed a heavy calamity had fallen upon them all. Even +Sancho Panza was weeping; though afterwards he said he only wept because +he saw that Dorothea was not as he fancied the queen Micomicona, of whom +he expected such great favours. Their wonder as well as their weeping +lasted some time, and then Cardenio and Luscinda went and fell on their +knees before Don Fernando, returning him thanks for the favour he had +rendered them in language so grateful that he knew not how to answer +them, and raising them up embraced them with every mark of affection and +courtesy. + +He then asked Dorothea how she had managed to reach a place so far +removed from her own home, and she in a few fitting words told all that +she had previously related to Cardenio, with which Don Fernando and his +companions were so delighted that they wished the story had been longer; +so charmingly did Dorothea describe her misadventures. When she had +finished Don Fernando recounted what had befallen him in the city after +he had found in Luscinda's bosom the paper in which she declared that she +was Cardenio's wife, and never could be his. He said he meant to kill +her, and would have done so had he not been prevented by her parents, and +that he quitted the house full of rage and shame, and resolved to avenge +himself when a more convenient opportunity should offer. The next day he +learned that Luscinda had disappeared from her father's house, and that +no one could tell whither she had gone. Finally, at the end of some +months he ascertained that she was in a convent and meant to remain there +all the rest of her life, if she were not to share it with Cardenio; and +as soon as he had learned this, taking these three gentlemen as his +companions, he arrived at the place where she was, but avoided speaking +to her, fearing that if it were known he was there stricter precautions +would be taken in the convent; and watching a time when the porter's +lodge was open he left two to guard the gate, and he and the other +entered the convent in quest of Luscinda, whom they found in the +cloisters in conversation with one of the nuns, and carrying her off +without giving her time to resist, they reached a place with her where +they provided themselves with what they required for taking her away; all +which they were able to do in complete safety, as the convent was in the +country at a considerable distance from the city. He added that when +Luscinda found herself in his power she lost all consciousness, and after +returning to herself did nothing but weep and sigh without speaking a +word; and thus in silence and tears they reached that inn, which for him +was reaching heaven where all the mischances of earth are over and at an +end. + +Chapter XXXVII. - +In which is continued the story of the famous Princess Micomicona, with +other droll adventures + +To all this Sancho listened with no little sorrow at heart to see how his +hopes of dignity were fading away and vanishing in smoke, and how the +fair Princess Micomicona had turned into Dorothea, and the giant into Don +Fernando, while his master was sleeping tranquilly, totally unconscious +of all that had come to pass. Dorothea was unable to persuade herself +that her present happiness was not all a dream; Cardenio was in a similar +state of mind, and Luscinda's thoughts ran in the same direction. Don +Fernando gave thanks to Heaven for the favour shown to him and for having +been rescued from the intricate labyrinth in which he had been brought so +near the destruction of his good name and of his soul; and in short +everybody in the inn was full of contentment and satisfaction at the +happy issue of such a complicated and hopeless business. The curate as a +sensible man made sound reflections upon the whole affair, and +congratulated each upon his good fortune; but the one that was in the +highest spirits and good humour was the landlady, because of the promise +Cardenio and the curate had given her to pay for all the losses and +damage she had sustained through Don Quixote's means. Sancho, as has been +already said, was the only one who was distressed, unhappy, and dejected; +and so with a long face he went in to his master, who had just awoke, and +said to him: + +"Sir Rueful Countenance, your worship may as well sleep on as much as you +like, without troubling yourself about killing any giant or restoring her +kingdom to the princess; for that is all over and settled now." + +"I should think it was," replied Don Quixote, "for I have had the most +prodigious and stupendous battle with the giant that I ever remember +having had all the days of my life; and with one back-stroke-swish!--I +brought his head tumbling to the ground, and so much blood gushed forth +from him that it ran in rivulets over the earth like water." + +"Like red wine, your worship had better say," replied Sancho; "for I +would have you know, if you don't know it, that the dead giant is a +hacked wine-skin, and the blood four-and-twenty gallons of red wine that +it had in its belly, and the cut-off head is the bitch that bore me; and +the devil take it all." + +"What art thou talking about, fool?" said Don Quixote; "art thou in thy +senses?" + +"Let your worship get up," said Sancho, "and you will see the nice +business you have made of it, and what we have to pay; and you will see +the queen turned into a private lady called Dorothea, and other things +that will astonish you, if you understand them." + +"I shall not be surprised at anything of the kind," returned Don Quixote; +"for if thou dost remember the last time we were here I told thee that +everything that happened here was a matter of enchantment, and it would +be no wonder if it were the same now." + +"I could believe all that," replied Sancho, "if my blanketing was the +same sort of thing also; only it wasn't, but real and genuine; for I saw +the landlord, Who is here to-day, holding one end of the blanket and +jerking me up to the skies very neatly and smartly, and with as much +laughter as strength; and when it comes to be a case of knowing people, I +hold for my part, simple and sinner as I am, that there is no enchantment +about it at all, but a great deal of bruising and bad luck." + +"Well, well, God will give a remedy," said Don Quixote; "hand me my +clothes and let me go out, for I want to see these transformations and +things thou speakest of." + +Sancho fetched him his clothes; and while he was dressing, the curate +gave Don Fernando and the others present an account of Don Quixote's +madness and of the stratagem they had made use of to withdraw him from +that Pena Pobre where he fancied himself stationed because of his lady's +scorn. He described to them also nearly all the adventures that Sancho +had mentioned, at which they marvelled and laughed not a little, thinking +it, as all did, the strangest form of madness a crazy intellect could be +capable of. But now, the curate said, that the lady Dorothea's good +fortune prevented her from proceeding with their purpose, it would be +necessary to devise or discover some other way of getting him home. + +Cardenio proposed to carry out the scheme they had begun, and suggested +that Luscinda would act and support Dorothea's part sufficiently well. + +"No," said Don Fernando, "that must not be, for I want Dorothea to follow +out this idea of hers; and if the worthy gentleman's village is not very +far off, I shall be happy if I can do anything for his relief." + +"It is not more than two days' journey from this," said the curate. + +"Even if it were more," said Don Fernando, "I would gladly travel so far +for the sake of doing so good a work. + +"At this moment Don Quixote came out in full panoply, with Mambrino's +helmet, all dinted as it was, on his head, his buckler on his arm, and +leaning on his staff or pike. The strange figure he presented filled Don +Fernando and the rest with amazement as they contemplated his lean yellow +face half a league long, his armour of all sorts, and the solemnity of +his deportment. They stood silent waiting to see what he would say, and +he, fixing his eyes on the air Dorothea, addressed her with great gravity +and composure: + +"I am informed, fair lady, by my squire here that your greatness has been +annihilated and your being abolished, since, from a queen and lady of +high degree as you used to be, you have been turned into a private +maiden. If this has been done by the command of the magician king your +father, through fear that I should not afford you the aid you need and +are entitled to, I may tell you he did not know and does not know half +the mass, and was little versed in the annals of chivalry; for, if he had +read and gone through them as attentively and deliberately as I have, he +would have found at every turn that knights of less renown than mine have +accomplished things more difficult: it is no great matter to kill a whelp +of a giant, however arrogant he may be; for it is not many hours since I +myself was engaged with one, and-I will not speak of it, that they may +not say I am lying; time, however, that reveals all, will tell the tale +when we least expect it." + +"You were engaged with a couple of wine-skins, and not a giant," said the +landlord at this; but Don Fernando told him to hold his tongue and on no +account interrupt Don Quixote, who continued, "I say in conclusion, high +and disinherited lady, that if your father has brought about this +metamorphosis in your person for the reason I have mentioned, you ought +not to attach any importance to it; for there is no peril on earth +through which my sword will not force a way, and with it, before many +days are over, I will bring your enemy's head to the ground and place on +yours the crown of your kingdom." + +Don Quixote said no more, and waited for the reply of the princess, who +aware of Don Fernando's determination to carry on the deception until Don +Quixote had been conveyed to his home, with great ease of manner and +gravity made answer, "Whoever told you, valiant Knight of the Rueful +Countenance, that I had undergone any change or transformation did not +tell you the truth, for I am the same as I was yesterday. It is true that +certain strokes of good fortune, that have given me more than I could +have hoped for, have made some alteration in me; but I have not therefore +ceased to be what I was before, or to entertain the same desire I have +had all through of availing myself of the might of your valiant and +invincible arm. And so, senor, let your goodness reinstate the father +that begot me in your good opinion, and be assured that he was a wise and +prudent man, since by his craft he found out such a sure and easy way of +remedying my misfortune; for I believe, senor, that had it not been for +you I should never have lit upon the good fortune I now possess; and in +this I am saying what is perfectly true; as most of these gentlemen who +are present can fully testify. All that remains is to set out on our +journey to-morrow, for to-day we could not make much way; and for the +rest of the happy result I am looking forward to, I trust to God and the +valour of your heart." + +So said the sprightly Dorothea, and on hearing her Don Quixote turned to +Sancho, and said to him, with an angry air, "I declare now, little +Sancho, thou art the greatest little villain in Spain. Say, thief and +vagabond, hast thou not just now told me that this princess had been +turned into a maiden called Dorothea, and that the head which I am +persuaded I cut off from a giant was the bitch that bore thee, and other +nonsense that put me in the greatest perplexity I have ever been in all +my life? I vow" (and here he looked to heaven and ground his teeth) "I +have a mind to play the mischief with thee, in a way that will teach +sense for the future to all lying squires of knights-errant in the +world." + +"Let your worship be calm, senor," returned Sancho, "for it may well be +that I have been mistaken as to the change of the lady princess +Micomicona; but as to the giant's head, or at least as to the piercing of +the wine-skins, and the blood being red wine, I make no mistake, as sure +as there is a God; because the wounded skins are there at the head of +your worship's bed, and the wine has made a lake of the room; if not you +will see when the eggs come to be fried; I mean when his worship the +landlord calls for all the damages: for the rest, I am heartily glad that +her ladyship the queen is as she was, for it concerns me as much as +anyone." + +"I tell thee again, Sancho, thou art a fool," said Don Quixote; "forgive +me, and that will do." + +"That will do," said Don Fernando; "let us say no more about it; and as +her ladyship the princess proposes to set out to-morrow because it is too +late to-day, so be it, and we will pass the night in pleasant +conversation, and to-morrow we will all accompany Senor Don Quixote; for +we wish to witness the valiant and unparalleled achievements he is about +to perform in the course of this mighty enterprise which he has +undertaken." + +"It is I who shall wait upon and accompany you," said Don Quixote; "and I +am much gratified by the favour that is bestowed upon me, and the good +opinion entertained of me, which I shall strive to justify or it shall +cost me my life, or even more, if it can possibly cost me more." + +Many were the compliments and expressions of politeness that passed +between Don Quixote and Don Fernando; but they were brought to an end by +a traveller who at this moment entered the inn, and who seemed from his +attire to be a Christian lately come from the country of the Moors, for +he was dressed in a short-skirted coat of blue cloth with half-sleeves +and without a collar; his breeches were also of blue cloth, and his cap +of the same colour, and he wore yellow buskins and had a Moorish cutlass +slung from a baldric across his breast. Behind him, mounted upon an ass, +there came a woman dressed in Moorish fashion, with her face veiled and a +scarf on her head, and wearing a little brocaded cap, and a mantle that +covered her from her shoulders to her feet. The man was of a robust and +well-proportioned frame, in age a little over forty, rather swarthy in +complexion, with long moustaches and a full beard, and, in short, his +appearance was such that if he had been well dressed he would have been +taken for a person of quality and good birth. On entering he asked for a +room, and when they told him there was none in the inn he seemed +distressed, and approaching her who by her dress seemed to be a Moor he +her down from saddle in his arms. Luscinda, Dorothea, the landlady, her +daughter and Maritornes, attracted by the strange, and to them entirely +new costume, gathered round her; and Dorothea, who was always kindly, +courteous, and quick-witted, perceiving that both she and the man who had +brought her were annoyed at not finding a room, said to her, "Do not be +put out, senora, by the discomfort and want of luxuries here, for it is +the way of road-side inns to be without them; still, if you will be +pleased to share our lodging with us (pointing to Luscinda) perhaps you +will have found worse accommodation in the course of your journey." + +To this the veiled lady made no reply; all she did was to rise from her +seat, crossing her hands upon her bosom, bowing her head and bending her +body as a sign that she returned thanks. From her silence they concluded +that she must be a Moor and unable to speak a Christian tongue. + +At this moment the captive came up, having been until now otherwise +engaged, and seeing that they all stood round his companion and that she +made no reply to what they addressed to her, he said, "Ladies, this +damsel hardly understands my language and can speak none but that of her +own country, for which reason she does not and cannot answer what has +been asked of her." + +"Nothing has been asked of her," returned Luscinda; "she has only been +offered our company for this evening and a share of the quarters we +occupy, where she shall be made as comfortable as the circumstances +allow, with the good-will we are bound to show all strangers that stand +in need of it, especially if it be a woman to whom the service is +rendered." + +"On her part and my own, senora," replied the captive, "I kiss your +hands, and I esteem highly, as I ought, the favour you have offered, +which, on such an occasion and coming from persons of your appearance, +is, it is plain to see, a very great one." + +"Tell me, senor," said Dorothea, "is this lady a Christian or a Moor? for +her dress and her silence lead us to imagine that she is what we could +wish she was not." + +"In dress and outwardly," said he, "she is a Moor, but at heart she is a +thoroughly good Christian, for she has the greatest desire to become +one." + +"Then she has not been baptised?" returned Luscinda. + +"There has been no opportunity for that," replied the captive, "since she +left Algiers, her native country and home; and up to the present she has +not found herself in any such imminent danger of death as to make it +necessary to baptise her before she has been instructed in all the +ceremonies our holy mother Church ordains; but, please God, ere long she +shall be baptised with the solemnity befitting her which is higher than +her dress or mine indicates." + +By these words he excited a desire in all who heard him, to know who the +Moorish lady and the captive were, but no one liked to ask just then, +seeing that it was a fitter moment for helping them to rest themselves +than for questioning them about their lives. Dorothea took the Moorish +lady by the hand and leading her to a seat beside herself, requested her +to remove her veil. She looked at the captive as if to ask him what they +meant and what she was to do. He said to her in Arabic that they asked +her to take off her veil, and thereupon she removed it and disclosed a +countenance so lovely, that to Dorothea she seemed more beautiful than +Luscinda, and to Luscinda more beautiful than Dorothea, and all the +bystanders felt that if any beauty could compare with theirs it was the +Moorish lady's, and there were even those who were inclined to give it +somewhat the preference. And as it is the privilege and charm of beauty +to win the heart and secure good-will, all forthwith became eager to show +kindness and attention to the lovely Moor. + +Don Fernando asked the captive what her name was, and he replied that it +was Lela Zoraida; but the instant she heard him, she guessed what the +Christian had asked, and said hastily, with some displeasure and energy, +"No, not Zoraida; Maria, Maria!" giving them to understand that she was +called "Maria" and not "Zoraida." These words, and the touching +earnestness with which she uttered them, drew more than one tear from +some of the listeners, particularly the women, who are by nature +tender-hearted and compassionate. Luscinda embraced her affectionately, +saying, "Yes, yes, Maria, Maria," to which the Moor replied, "Yes, yes, +Maria; Zoraida macange," which means "not Zoraida." + +Night was now approaching, and by the orders of those who accompanied Don +Fernando the landlord had taken care and pains to prepare for them the +best supper that was in his power. The hour therefore having arrived they +all took their seats at a long table like a refectory one, for round or +square table there was none in the inn, and the seat of honour at the +head of it, though he was for refusing it, they assigned to Don Quixote, +who desired the lady Micomicona to place herself by his side, as he was +her protector. Luscinda and Zoraida took their places next her, opposite +to them were Don Fernando and Cardenio, and next the captive and the +other gentlemen, and by the side of the ladies, the curate and the +barber. And so they supped in high enjoyment, which was increased when +they observed Don Quixote leave off eating, and, moved by an impulse like +that which made him deliver himself at such length when he supped with +the goatherds, begin to address them: + +"Verily, gentlemen, if we reflect upon it, great and marvellous are the +things they see, who make profession of the order of knight-errantry. +Say, what being is there in this world, who entering the gate of this +castle at this moment, and seeing us as we are here, would suppose or +imagine us to be what we are? Who would say that this lady who is beside +me was the great queen that we all know her to be, or that I am that +Knight of the Rueful Countenance, trumpeted far and wide by the mouth of +Fame? Now, there can be no doubt that this art and calling surpasses all +those that mankind has invented, and is the more deserving of being held +in honour in proportion as it is the more exposed to peril. Away with +those who assert that letters have the preeminence over arms; I will tell +them, whosoever they may be, that they know not what they say. For the +reason which such persons commonly assign, and upon which they chiefly +rest, is, that the labours of the mind are greater than those of the +body, and that arms give employment to the body alone; as if the calling +were a porter's trade, for which nothing more is required than sturdy +strength; or as if, in what we who profess them call arms, there were not +included acts of vigour for the execution of which high intelligence is +requisite; or as if the soul of the warrior, when he has an army, or the +defence of a city under his care, did not exert itself as much by mind as +by body. Nay; see whether by bodily strength it be possible to learn or +divine the intentions of the enemy, his plans, stratagems, or obstacles, +or to ward off impending mischief; for all these are the work of the +mind, and in them the body has no share whatever. Since, therefore, arms +have need of the mind, as much as letters, let us see now which of the +two minds, that of the man of letters or that of the warrior, has most to +do; and this will be seen by the end and goal that each seeks to attain; +for that purpose is the more estimable which has for its aim the nobler +object. The end and goal of letters--I am not speaking now of divine +letters, the aim of which is to raise and direct the soul to Heaven; for +with an end so infinite no other can be compared--I speak of human +letters, the end of which is to establish distributive justice, give to +every man that which is his, and see and take care that good laws are +observed: an end undoubtedly noble, lofty, and deserving of high praise, +but not such as should be given to that sought by arms, which have for +their end and object peace, the greatest boon that men can desire in this +life. The first good news the world and mankind received was that which +the angels announced on the night that was our day, when they sang in the +air, 'Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth to men of +good-will;' and the salutation which the great Master of heaven and earth +taught his disciples and chosen followers when they entered any house, +was to say, 'Peace be on this house;' and many other times he said to +them, 'My peace I give unto you, my peace I leave you, peace be with +you;' a jewel and a precious gift given and left by such a hand: a jewel +without which there can be no happiness either on earth or in heaven. +This peace is the true end of war; and war is only another name for arms. +This, then, being admitted, that the end of war is peace, and that so far +it has the advantage of the end of letters, let us turn to the bodily +labours of the man of letters, and those of him who follows the +profession of arms, and see which are the greater." + +Don Quixote delivered his discourse in such a manner and in such correct +language, that for the time being he made it impossible for any of his +hearers to consider him a madman; on the contrary, as they were mostly +gentlemen, to whom arms are an appurtenance by birth, they listened to +him with great pleasure as he continued: "Here, then, I say is what the +student has to undergo; first of all poverty: not that all are poor, but +to put the case as strongly as possible: and when I have said that he +endures poverty, I think nothing more need be said about his hard +fortune, for he who is poor has no share of the good things of life. This +poverty he suffers from in various ways, hunger, or cold, or nakedness, +or all together; but for all that it is not so extreme but that he gets +something to eat, though it may be at somewhat unseasonable hours and +from the leavings of the rich; for the greatest misery of the student is +what they themselves call 'going out for soup,' and there is always some +neighbour's brazier or hearth for them, which, if it does not warm, at +least tempers the cold to them, and lastly, they sleep comfortably at +night under a roof. I will not go into other particulars, as for example +want of shirts, and no superabundance of shoes, thin and threadbare +garments, and gorging themselves to surfeit in their voracity when good +luck has treated them to a banquet of some sort. By this road that I have +described, rough and hard, stumbling here, falling there, getting up +again to fall again, they reach the rank they desire, and that once +attained, we have seen many who have passed these Syrtes and Scyllas and +Charybdises, as if borne flying on the wings of favouring fortune; we +have seen them, I say, ruling and governing the world from a chair, their +hunger turned into satiety, their cold into comfort, their nakedness into +fine raiment, their sleep on a mat into repose in holland and damask, the +justly earned reward of their virtue; but, contrasted and compared with +what the warrior undergoes, all they have undergone falls far short of +it, as I am now about to show." + +Chapter XXXVIII. - +Which treats of the curious discourse Don Quixote delivered on arms and +letters + +Continuing his discourse Don Quixote said: "As we began in the student's +case with poverty and its accompaniments, let us see now if the soldier +is richer, and we shall find that in poverty itself there is no one +poorer; for he is dependent on his miserable pay, which comes late or +never, or else on what he can plunder, seriously imperilling his life and +conscience; and sometimes his nakedness will be so great that a slashed +doublet serves him for uniform and shirt, and in the depth of winter he +has to defend himself against the inclemency of the weather in the open +field with nothing better than the breath of his mouth, which I need not +say, coming from an empty place, must come out cold, contrary to the laws +of nature. To be sure he looks forward to the approach of night to make +up for all these discomforts on the bed that awaits him, which, unless by +some fault of his, never sins by being over narrow, for he can easily +measure out on the ground as he likes, and roll himself about in it to +his heart's content without any fear of the sheets slipping away from +him. Then, after all this, suppose the day and hour for taking his degree +in his calling to have come; suppose the day of battle to have arrived, +when they invest him with the doctor's cap made of lint, to mend some +bullet-hole, perhaps, that has gone through his temples, or left him with +a crippled arm or leg. Or if this does not happen, and merciful Heaven +watches over him and keeps him safe and sound, it may be he will be in +the same poverty he was in before, and he must go through more +engagements and more battles, and come victorious out of all before he +betters himself; but miracles of that sort are seldom seen. For tell me, +sirs, if you have ever reflected upon it, by how much do those who have +gained by war fall short of the number of those who have perished in it? +No doubt you will reply that there can be no comparison, that the dead +cannot be numbered, while the living who have been rewarded may be summed +up with three figures. All which is the reverse in the case of men of +letters; for by skirts, to say nothing of sleeves, they all find means of +support; so that though the soldier has more to endure, his reward is +much less. But against all this it may be urged that it is easier to +reward two thousand soldiers, for the former may be remunerated by giving +them places, which must perforce be conferred upon men of their calling, +while the latter can only be recompensed out of the very property of the +master they serve; but this impossibility only strengthens my argument. + +"Putting this, however, aside, for it is a puzzling question for which it +is difficult to find a solution, let us return to the superiority of arms +over letters, a matter still undecided, so many are the arguments put +forward on each side; for besides those I have mentioned, letters say +that without them arms cannot maintain themselves, for war, too, has its +laws and is governed by them, and laws belong to the domain of letters +and men of letters. To this arms make answer that without them laws +cannot be maintained, for by arms states are defended, kingdoms +preserved, cities protected, roads made safe, seas cleared of pirates; +and, in short, if it were not for them, states, kingdoms, monarchies, +cities, ways by sea and land would be exposed to the violence and +confusion which war brings with it, so long as it lasts and is free to +make use of its privileges and powers. And then it is plain that whatever +costs most is valued and deserves to be valued most. To attain to +eminence in letters costs a man time, watching, hunger, nakedness, +headaches, indigestions, and other things of the sort, some of which I +have already referred to. But for a man to come in the ordinary course of +things to be a good soldier costs him all the student suffers, and in an +incomparably higher degree, for at every step he runs the risk of losing +his life. For what dread of want or poverty that can reach or harass the +student can compare with what the soldier feels, who finds himself +beleaguered in some stronghold mounting guard in some ravelin or +cavalier, knows that the enemy is pushing a mine towards the post where +he is stationed, and cannot under any circumstances retire or fly from +the imminent danger that threatens him? All he can do is to inform his +captain of what is going on so that he may try to remedy it by a +counter-mine, and then stand his ground in fear and expectation of the +moment when he will fly up to the clouds without wings and descend into +the deep against his will. And if this seems a trifling risk, let us see +whether it is equalled or surpassed by the encounter of two galleys stem +to stem, in the midst of the open sea, locked and entangled one with the +other, when the soldier has no more standing room than two feet of the +plank of the spur; and yet, though he sees before him threatening him as +many ministers of death as there are cannon of the foe pointed at him, +not a lance length from his body, and sees too that with the first +heedless step he will go down to visit the profundities of Neptune's +bosom, still with dauntless heart, urged on by honour that nerves him, he +makes himself a target for all that musketry, and struggles to cross that +narrow path to the enemy's ship. And what is still more marvellous, no +sooner has one gone down into the depths he will never rise from till the +end of the world, than another takes his place; and if he too falls into +the sea that waits for him like an enemy, another and another will +succeed him without a moment's pause between their deaths: courage and +daring the greatest that all the chances of war can show. Happy the blest +ages that knew not the dread fury of those devilish engines of artillery, +whose inventor I am persuaded is in hell receiving the reward of his +diabolical invention, by which he made it easy for a base and cowardly +arm to take the life of a gallant gentleman; and that, when he knows not +how or whence, in the height of the ardour and enthusiasm that fire and +animate brave hearts, there should come some random bullet, discharged +perhaps by one who fled in terror at the flash when he fired off his +accursed machine, which in an instant puts an end to the projects and +cuts off the life of one who deserved to live for ages to come. And thus +when I reflect on this, I am almost tempted to say that in my heart I +repent of having adopted this profession of knight-errant in so +detestable an age as we live in now; for though no peril can make me +fear, still it gives me some uneasiness to think that powder and lead may +rob me of the opportunity of making myself famous and renowned throughout +the known earth by the might of my arm and the edge of my sword. But +Heaven's will be done; if I succeed in my attempt I shall be all the more +honoured, as I have faced greater dangers than the knights-errant of yore +exposed themselves to." + +All this lengthy discourse Don Quixote delivered while the others supped, +forgetting to raise a morsel to his lips, though Sancho more than once +told him to eat his supper, as he would have time enough afterwards to +say all he wanted. It excited fresh pity in those who had heard him to +see a man of apparently sound sense, and with rational views on every +subject he discussed, so hopelessly wanting in all, when his wretched +unlucky chivalry was in question. The curate told him he was quite right +in all he had said in favour of arms, and that he himself, though a man +of letters and a graduate, was of the same opinion. + +They finished their supper, the cloth was removed, and while the hostess, +her daughter, and Maritornes were getting Don Quixote of La Mancha's +garret ready, in which it was arranged that the women were to be +quartered by themselves for the night, Don Fernando begged the captive to +tell them the story of his life, for it could not fail to be strange and +interesting, to judge by the hints he had let fall on his arrival in +company with Zoraida. To this the captive replied that he would very +willingly yield to his request, only he feared his tale would not give +them as much pleasure as he wished; nevertheless, not to be wanting in +compliance, he would tell it. The curate and the others thanked him and +added their entreaties, and he finding himself so pressed said there was +no occasion ask, where a command had such weight, and added, "If your +worships will give me your attention you will hear a true story which, +perhaps, fictitious ones constructed with ingenious and studied art +cannot come up to." These words made them settle themselves in their +places and preserve a deep silence, and he seeing them waiting on his +words in mute expectation, began thus in a pleasant quiet voice. + +Chapter XXXIX. - +Wherein the captive relates his life and adventures + +My family had its origin in a village in the mountains of Leon, and +nature had been kinder and more generous to it than fortune; though in +the general poverty of those communities my father passed for being even +a rich man; and he would have been so in reality had he been as clever in +preserving his property as he was in spending it. This tendency of his to +be liberal and profuse he had acquired from having been a soldier in his +youth, for the soldier's life is a school in which the niggard becomes +free-handed and the free-handed prodigal; and if any soldiers are to be +found who are misers, they are monsters of rare occurrence. My father +went beyond liberality and bordered on prodigality, a disposition by no +means advantageous to a married man who has children to succeed to his +name and position. My father had three, all sons, and all of sufficient +age to make choice of a profession. Finding, then, that he was unable to +resist his propensity, he resolved to divest himself of the instrument +and cause of his prodigality and lavishness, to divest himself of wealth, +without which Alexander himself would have seemed parsimonious; and so +calling us all three aside one day into a room, he addressed us in words +somewhat to the following effect: + +"My sons, to assure you that I love you, no more need be known or said +than that you are my sons; and to encourage a suspicion that I do not +love you, no more is needed than the knowledge that I have no +self-control as far as preservation of your patrimony is concerned; +therefore, that you may for the future feel sure that I love you like a +father, and have no wish to ruin you like a stepfather, I propose to do +with you what I have for some time back meditated, and after mature +deliberation decided upon. You are now of an age to choose your line of +life or at least make choice of a calling that will bring you honour and +profit when you are older; and what I have resolved to do is to divide my +property into four parts; three I will give to you, to each his portion +without making any difference, and the other I will retain to live upon +and support myself for whatever remainder of life Heaven may be pleased +to grant me. But I wish each of you on taking possession of the share +that falls to him to follow one of the paths I shall indicate. In this +Spain of ours there is a proverb, to my mind very true--as they all are, +being short aphorisms drawn from long practical experience--and the one I +refer to says, 'The church, or the sea, or the king's house;' as much as +to say, in plainer language, whoever wants to flourish and become rich, +let him follow the church, or go to sea, adopting commerce as his +calling, or go into the king's service in his household, for they say, +'Better a king's crumb than a lord's favour.' I say so because it is my +will and pleasure that one of you should follow letters, another trade, +and the third serve the king in the wars, for it is a difficult matter to +gain admission to his service in his household, and if war does not bring +much wealth it confers great distinction and fame. Eight days hence I +will give you your full shares in money, without defrauding you of a +farthing, as you will see in the end. Now tell me if you are willing to +follow out my idea and advice as I have laid it before you." + +Having called upon me as the eldest to answer, I, after urging him not to +strip himself of his property but to spend it all as he pleased, for we +were young men able to gain our living, consented to comply with his +wishes, and said that mine were to follow the profession of arms and +thereby serve God and my king. My second brother having made the same +proposal, decided upon going to the Indies, embarking the portion that +fell to him in trade. The youngest, and in my opinion the wisest, said he +would rather follow the church, or go to complete his studies at +Salamanca. As soon as we had come to an understanding, and made choice of +our professions, my father embraced us all, and in the short time he +mentioned carried into effect all he had promised; and when he had given +to each his share, which as well as I remember was three thousand ducats +apiece in cash (for an uncle of ours bought the estate and paid for it +down, not to let it go out of the family), we all three on the same day +took leave of our good father; and at the same time, as it seemed to me +inhuman to leave my father with such scanty means in his old age, I +induced him to take two of my three thousand ducats, as the remainder +would be enough to provide me with all a soldier needed. My two brothers, +moved by my example, gave him each a thousand ducats, so that there was +left for my father four thousand ducats in money, besides three thousand, +the value of the portion that fell to him which he preferred to retain in +land instead of selling it. Finally, as I said, we took leave of him, and +of our uncle whom I have mentioned, not without sorrow and tears on both +sides, they charging us to let them know whenever an opportunity offered +how we fared, whether well or ill. We promised to do so, and when he had +embraced us and given us his blessing, one set out for Salamanca, the +other for Seville, and I for Alicante, where I had heard there was a +Genoese vessel taking in a cargo of wool for Genoa. + +It is now some twenty-two years since I left my father's house, and all +that time, though I have written several letters, I have had no news +whatever of him or of my brothers; my own adventures during that period I +will now relate briefly. I embarked at Alicante, reached Genoa after a +prosperous voyage, and proceeded thence to Milan, where I provided myself +with arms and a few soldier's accoutrements; thence it was my intention +to go and take service in Piedmont, but as I was already on the road to +Alessandria della Paglia, I learned that the great Duke of Alva was on +his way to Flanders. I changed my plans, joined him, served under him in +the campaigns he made, was present at the deaths of the Counts Egmont and +Horn, and was promoted to be ensign under a famous captain of +Guadalajara, Diego de Urbina by name. Some time after my arrival in +Flanders news came of the league that his Holiness Pope Pius V of happy +memory, had made with Venice and Spain against the common enemy, the +Turk, who had just then with his fleet taken the famous island of Cyprus, +which belonged to the Venetians, a loss deplorable and disastrous. It was +known as a fact that the Most Serene Don John of Austria, natural brother +of our good king Don Philip, was coming as commander-in-chief of the +allied forces, and rumours were abroad of the vast warlike preparations +which were being made, all which stirred my heart and filled me with a +longing to take part in the campaign which was expected; and though I had +reason to believe, and almost certain promises, that on the first +opportunity that presented itself I should be promoted to be captain, I +preferred to leave all and betake myself, as I did, to Italy; and it was +my good fortune that Don John had just arrived at Genoa, and was going on +to Naples to join the Venetian fleet, as he afterwards did at Messina. I +may say, in short, that I took part in that glorious expedition, promoted +by this time to be a captain of infantry, to which honourable charge my +good luck rather than my merits raised me; and that day--so fortunate for +Christendom, because then all the nations of the earth were disabused of +the error under which they lay in imagining the Turks to be invincible on +sea-on that day, I say, on which the Ottoman pride and arrogance were +broken, among all that were there made happy (for the Christians who died +that day were happier than those who remained alive and victorious) I +alone was miserable; for, instead of some naval crown that I might have +expected had it been in Roman times, on the night that followed that +famous day I found myself with fetters on my feet and manacles on my +hands. + +It happened in this way: El Uchali, the king of Algiers, a daring and +successful corsair, having attacked and taken the leading Maltese galley +(only three knights being left alive in it, and they badly wounded), the +chief galley of John Andrea, on board of which I and my company were +placed, came to its relief, and doing as was bound to do in such a case, +I leaped on board the enemy's galley, which, sheering off from that which +had attacked it, prevented my men from following me, and so I found +myself alone in the midst of my enemies, who were in such numbers that I +was unable to resist; in short I was taken, covered with wounds; El +Uchali, as you know, sirs, made his escape with his entire squadron, and +I was left a prisoner in his power, the only sad being among so many +filled with joy, and the only captive among so many free; for there were +fifteen thousand Christians, all at the oar in the Turkish fleet, that +regained their longed-for liberty that day. + +They carried me to Constantinople, where the Grand Turk, Selim, made my +master general at sea for having done his duty in the battle and carried +off as evidence of his bravery the standard of the Order of Malta. The +following year, which was the year seventy-two, I found myself at +Navarino rowing in the leading galley with the three lanterns. There I +saw and observed how the opportunity of capturing the whole Turkish fleet +in harbour was lost; for all the marines and janizzaries that belonged to +it made sure that they were about to be attacked inside the very harbour, +and had their kits and pasamaques, or shoes, ready to flee at once on +shore without waiting to be assailed, in so great fear did they stand of +our fleet. But Heaven ordered it otherwise, not for any fault or neglect +of the general who commanded on our side, but for the sins of +Christendom, and because it was God's will and pleasure that we should +always have instruments of punishment to chastise us. As it was, El +Uchali took refuge at Modon, which is an island near Navarino, and +landing forces fortified the mouth of the harbour and waited quietly +until Don John retired. On this expedition was taken the galley called +the Prize, whose captain was a son of the famous corsair Barbarossa. It +was taken by the chief Neapolitan galley called the She-wolf, commanded +by that thunderbolt of war, that father of his men, that successful and +unconquered captain Don Alvaro de Bazan, Marquis of Santa Cruz; and I +cannot help telling you what took place at the capture of the Prize. + +The son of Barbarossa was so cruel, and treated his slaves so badly, +that, when those who were at the oars saw that the She-wolf galley was +bearing down upon them and gaining upon them, they all at once dropped +their oars and seized their captain who stood on the stage at the end of +the gangway shouting to them to row lustily; and passing him on from +bench to bench, from the poop to the prow, they so bit him that before he +had got much past the mast his soul had already got to hell; so great, as +I said, was the cruelty with which he treated them, and the hatred with +which they hated him. + +We returned to Constantinople, and the following year, seventy-three, it +became known that Don John had seized Tunis and taken the kingdom from +the Turks, and placed Muley Hamet in possession, putting an end to the +hopes which Muley Hamida, the cruelest and bravest Moor in the world, +entertained of returning to reign there. The Grand Turk took the loss +greatly to heart, and with the cunning which all his race possess, he +made peace with the Venetians (who were much more eager for it than he +was), and the following year, seventy-four, he attacked the Goletta and +the fort which Don John had left half built near Tunis. While all these +events were occurring, I was labouring at the oar without any hope of +freedom; at least I had no hope of obtaining it by ransom, for I was +firmly resolved not to write to my father telling him of my misfortunes. +At length the Goletta fell, and the fort fell, before which places there +were seventy-five thousand regular Turkish soldiers, and more than four +hundred thousand Moors and Arabs from all parts of Africa, and in the +train of all this great host such munitions and engines of war, and so +many pioneers that with their hands they might have covered the Goletta +and the fort with handfuls of earth. The first to fall was the Goletta, +until then reckoned impregnable, and it fell, not by any fault of its +defenders, who did all that they could and should have done, but because +experiment proved how easily entrenchments could be made in the desert +sand there; for water used to be found at two palms depth, while the +Turks found none at two yards; and so by means of a quantity of sandbags +they raised their works so high that they commanded the walls of the +fort, sweeping them as if from a cavalier, so that no one was able to +make a stand or maintain the defence. + +It was a common opinion that our men should not have shut themselves up +in the Goletta, but should have waited in the open at the landing-place; +but those who say so talk at random and with little knowledge of such +matters; for if in the Goletta and in the fort there were barely seven +thousand soldiers, how could such a small number, however resolute, sally +out and hold their own against numbers like those of the enemy? And how +is it possible to help losing a stronghold that is not relieved, above +all when surrounded by a host of determined enemies in their own country? +But many thought, and I thought so too, that it was special favour and +mercy which Heaven showed to Spain in permitting the destruction of that +source and hiding place of mischief, that devourer, sponge, and moth of +countless money, fruitlessly wasted there to no other purpose save +preserving the memory of its capture by the invincible Charles V; as if +to make that eternal, as it is and will be, these stones were needed to +support it. The fort also fell; but the Turks had to win it inch by inch, +for the soldiers who defended it fought so gallantly and stoutly that the +number of the enemy killed in twenty-two general assaults exceeded +twenty-five thousand. Of three hundred that remained alive not one was +taken unwounded, a clear and manifest proof of their gallantry and +resolution, and how sturdily they had defended themselves and held their +post. A small fort or tower which was in the middle of the lagoon under +the command of Don Juan Zanoguera, a Valencian gentleman and a famous +soldier, capitulated upon terms. They took prisoner Don Pedro +Puertocarrero, commandant of the Goletta, who had done all in his power +to defend his fortress, and took the loss of it so much to heart that he +died of grief on the way to Constantinople, where they were carrying him +a prisoner. They also took the commandant of the fort, Gabrio Cerbellon +by name, a Milanese gentleman, a great engineer and a very brave soldier. +In these two fortresses perished many persons of note, among whom was +Pagano Doria, knight of the Order of St. John, a man of generous +disposition, as was shown by his extreme liberality to his brother, the +famous John Andrea Doria; and what made his death the more sad was that +he was slain by some Arabs to whom, seeing that the fort was now lost, he +entrusted himself, and who offered to conduct him in the disguise of a +Moor to Tabarca, a small fort or station on the coast held by the Genoese +employed in the coral fishery. These Arabs cut off his head and carried +it to the commander of the Turkish fleet, who proved on them the truth of +our Castilian proverb, that "though the treason may please, the traitor +is hated;" for they say he ordered those who brought him the present to +be hanged for not having brought him alive. + +Among the Christians who were taken in the fort was one named Don Pedro +de Aguilar, a native of some place, I know not what, in Andalusia, who +had been ensign in the fort, a soldier of great repute and rare +intelligence, who had in particular a special gift for what they call +poetry. I say so because his fate brought him to my galley and to my +bench, and made him a slave to the same master; and before we left the +port this gentleman composed two sonnets by way of epitaphs, one on the +Goletta and the other on the fort; indeed, I may as well repeat them, for +I have them by heart, and I think they will be liked rather than +disliked. + +The instant the captive mentioned the name of Don Pedro de Aguilar, Don +Fernando looked at his companions and they all three smiled; and when he +came to speak of the sonnets one of them said, "Before your worship +proceeds any further I entreat you to tell me what became of that Don +Pedro de Aguilar you have spoken of." + +"All I know is," replied the captive, "that after having been in +Constantinople two years, he escaped in the disguise of an Arnaut, in +company with a Greek spy; but whether he regained his liberty or not I +cannot tell, though I fancy he did, because a year afterwards I saw the +Greek at Constantinople, though I was unable to ask him what the result +of the journey was." + +"Well then, you are right," returned the gentleman, "for that Don Pedro +is my brother, and he is now in our village in good health, rich, +married, and with three children." + +"Thanks be to God for all the mercies he has shown him," said the +captive; "for to my mind there is no happiness on earth to compare with +recovering lost liberty." + +"And what is more," said the gentleman, "I know the sonnets my brother +made." + +"Then let your worship repeat them," said the captive, "for you will +recite them better than I can." + +"With all my heart," said the gentleman; "that on the Goletta runs thus." + +Chapter XL. - +In which the story of the captive is continued. + +poem{ + +SONNET + +"Blest souls, that, from this mortal husk set free, + In guerdon of brave deeds beatified, + Above this lowly orb of ours abide +Made heirs of heaven and immortality, +With noble rage and ardour glowing ye + Your strength, while strength was yours, in battle plied, + And with your own blood and the foeman's dyed +The sandy soil and the encircling sea. +It was the ebbing life-blood first that failed +The weary arms; the stout hearts never quailed. + Though vanquished, yet ye earned the victor's crown: +Though mourned, yet still triumphant was your fall +For there ye won, between the sword and wall, + In Heaven glory and on earth renown." + +}poem + +"That is it exactly, according to my recollection," said the captive. + +"Well then, that on the fort," said the gentleman, "if my memory serves +me, goes thus: + +poem{ + +SONNET + +"Up from this wasted soil, this shattered shell, + Whose walls and towers here in ruin lie, + Three thousand soldier souls took wing on high, +In the bright mansions of the blest to dwell. +The onslaught of the foeman to repel + By might of arm all vainly did they try, + And when at length 'twas left them but to die, +Wearied and few the last defenders fell. +And this same arid soil hath ever been +A haunt of countless mournful memories, + As well in our day as in days of yore. +But never yet to Heaven it sent, I ween, +From its hard bosom purer souls than these, + Or braver bodies on its surface bore." + +}poem + +The sonnets were not disliked, and the captive was rejoiced at the +tidings they gave him of his comrade, and continuing his tale, he went on +to say: + +The Goletta and the fort being thus in their hands, the Turks gave orders +to dismantle the Goletta--for the fort was reduced to such a state that +there was nothing left to level--and to do the work more quickly and +easily they mined it in three places; but nowhere were they able to blow +up the part which seemed to be the least strong, that is to say, the old +walls, while all that remained standing of the new fortifications that +the Fratin had made came to the ground with the greatest ease. Finally +the fleet returned victorious and triumphant to Constantinople, and a few +months later died my master, El Uchali, otherwise Uchali Fartax, which +means in Turkish "the scabby renegade;" for that he was; it is the +practice with the Turks to name people from some defect or virtue they +may possess; the reason being that there are among them only four +surnames belonging to families tracing their descent from the Ottoman +house, and the others, as I have said, take their names and surnames +either from bodily blemishes or moral qualities. This "scabby one" rowed +at the oar as a slave of the Grand Signor's for fourteen years, and when +over thirty-four years of age, in resentment at having been struck by a +Turk while at the oar, turned renegade and renounced his faith in order +to be able to revenge himself; and such was his valour that, without +owing his advancement to the base ways and means by which most favourites +of the Grand Signor rise to power, he came to be king of Algiers, and +afterwards general-on-sea, which is the third place of trust in the +realm. He was a Calabrian by birth, and a worthy man morally, and he +treated his slaves with great humanity. He had three thousand of them, +and after his death they were divided, as he directed by his will, +between the Grand Signor (who is heir of all who die and shares with the +children of the deceased) and his renegades. I fell to the lot of a +Venetian renegade who, when a cabin boy on board a ship, had been taken +by Uchali and was so much beloved by him that he became one of his most +favoured youths. He came to be the most cruel renegade I ever saw: his +name was Hassan Aga, and he grew very rich and became king of Algiers. +With him I went there from Constantinople, rather glad to be so near +Spain, not that I intended to write to anyone about my unhappy lot, but +to try if fortune would be kinder to me in Algiers than in +Constantinople, where I had attempted in a thousand ways to escape +without ever finding a favourable time or chance; but in Algiers I +resolved to seek for other means of effecting the purpose I cherished so +dearly; for the hope of obtaining my liberty never deserted me; and when +in my plots and schemes and attempts the result did not answer my +expectations, without giving way to despair I immediately began to look +out for or conjure up some new hope to support me, however faint or +feeble it might be. + +In this way I lived on immured in a building or prison called by the +Turks a bano in which they confine the Christian captives, as well those +that are the king's as those belonging to private individuals, and also +what they call those of the Almacen, which is as much as to say the +slaves of the municipality, who serve the city in the public works and +other employments; but captives of this kind recover their liberty with +great difficulty, for, as they are public property and have no particular +master, there is no one with whom to treat for their ransom, even though +they may have the means. To these banos, as I have said, some private +individuals of the town are in the habit of bringing their captives, +especially when they are to be ransomed; because there they can keep them +in safety and comfort until their ransom arrives. The king's captives +also, that are on ransom, do not go out to work with the rest of the +crew, unless when their ransom is delayed; for then, to make them write +for it more pressingly, they compel them to work and go for wood, which +is no light labour. + +I, however, was one of those on ransom, for when it was discovered that I +was a captain, although I declared my scanty means and want of fortune, +nothing could dissuade them from including me among the gentlemen and +those waiting to be ransomed. They put a chain on me, more as a mark of +this than to keep me safe, and so I passed my life in that bano with +several other gentlemen and persons of quality marked out as held to +ransom; but though at times, or rather almost always, we suffered from +hunger and scanty clothing, nothing distressed us so much as hearing and +seeing at every turn the unexampled and unheard-of cruelties my master +inflicted upon the Christians. Every day he hanged a man, impaled one, +cut off the ears of another; and all with so little provocation, or so +entirely without any, that the Turks acknowledged he did it merely for +the sake of doing it, and because he was by nature murderously disposed +towards the whole human race. The only one that fared at all well with +him was a Spanish soldier, something de Saavedra by name, to whom he +never gave a blow himself, or ordered a blow to be given, or addressed a +hard word, although he had done things that will dwell in the memory of +the people there for many a year, and all to recover his liberty; and for +the least of the many things he did we all dreaded that he would be +impaled, and he himself was in fear of it more than once; and only that +time does not allow, I could tell you now something of what that soldier +did, that would interest and astonish you much more than the narration of +my own tale. + +To go on with my story; the courtyard of our prison was overlooked by the +windows of the house belonging to a wealthy Moor of high position; and +these, as is usual in Moorish houses, were rather loopholes than windows, +and besides were covered with thick and close lattice-work. It so +happened, then, that as I was one day on the terrace of our prison with +three other comrades, trying, to pass away the time, how far we could +leap with our chains, we being alone, for all the other Christians had +gone out to work, I chanced to raise my eyes, and from one of these +little closed windows I saw a reed appear with a cloth attached to the +end of it, and it kept waving to and fro, and moving as if making signs +to us to come and take it. We watched it, and one of those who were with +me went and stood under the reed to see whether they would let it drop, +or what they would do, but as he did so the reed was raised and moved +from side to side, as if they meant to say "no" by a shake of the head. +The Christian came back, and it was again lowered, making the same +movements as before. Another of my comrades went, and with him the same +happened as with the first, and then the third went forward, but with the +same result as the first and second. Seeing this I did not like not to +try my luck, and as soon as I came under the reed it was dropped and fell +inside the bano at my feet. I hastened to untie the cloth, in which I +perceived a knot, and in this were ten cianis, which are coins of base +gold, current among the Moors, and each worth ten reals of our money. + +It is needless to say I rejoiced over this godsend, and my joy was not +less than my wonder as I strove to imagine how this good fortune could +have come to us, but to me specially; for the evident unwillingness to +drop the reed for any but me showed that it was for me the favour was +intended. I took my welcome money, broke the reed, and returned to the +terrace, and looking up at the window, I saw a very white hand put out +that opened and shut very quickly. From this we gathered or fancied that +it must be some woman living in that house that had done us this +kindness, and to show that we were grateful for it, we made salaams after +the fashion of the Moors, bowing the head, bending the body, and crossing +the arms on the breast. Shortly afterwards at the same window a small +cross made of reeds was put out and immediately withdrawn. This sign led +us to believe that some Christian woman was a captive in the house, and +that it was she who had been so good to us; but the whiteness of the hand +and the bracelets we had perceived made us dismiss that idea, though we +thought it might be one of the Christian renegades whom their masters +very often take as lawful wives, and gladly, for they prefer them to the +women of their own nation. In all our conjectures we were wide of the +truth; so from that time forward our sole occupation was watching and +gazing at the window where the cross had appeared to us, as if it were +our pole-star; but at least fifteen days passed without our seeing either +it or the hand, or any other sign and though meanwhile we endeavoured +with the utmost pains to ascertain who it was that lived in the house, +and whether there were any Christian renegade in it, nobody could ever +tell us anything more than that he who lived there was a rich Moor of +high position, Hadji Morato by name, formerly alcaide of La Pata, an +office of high dignity among them. But when we least thought it was going +to rain any more cianis from that quarter, we saw the reed suddenly +appear with another cloth tied in a larger knot attached to it, and this +at a time when, as on the former occasion, the bano was deserted and +unoccupied. + +We made trial as before, each of the same three going forward before I +did; but the reed was delivered to none but me, and on my approach it was +let drop. I untied the knot and I found forty Spanish gold crowns with a +paper written in Arabic, and at the end of the writing there was a large +cross drawn. I kissed the cross, took the crowns and returned to the +terrace, and we all made our salaams; again the hand appeared, I made +signs that I would read the paper, and then the window was closed. We +were all puzzled, though filled with joy at what had taken place; and as +none of us understood Arabic, great was our curiosity to know what the +paper contained, and still greater the difficulty of finding some one to +read it. At last I resolved to confide in a renegade, a native of Murcia, +who professed a very great friendship for me, and had given pledges that +bound him to keep any secret I might entrust to him; for it is the custom +with some renegades, when they intend to return to Christian territory, +to carry about them certificates from captives of mark testifying, in +whatever form they can, that such and such a renegade is a worthy man who +has always shown kindness to Christians, and is anxious to escape on the +first opportunity that may present itself. Some obtain these testimonials +with good intentions, others put them to a cunning use; for when they go +to pillage on Christian territory, if they chance to be cast away, or +taken prisoners, they produce their certificates and say that from these +papers may be seen the object they came for, which was to remain on +Christian ground, and that it was to this end they joined the Turks in +their foray. In this way they escape the consequences of the first +outburst and make their peace with the Church before it does them any +harm, and then when they have the chance they return to Barbary to become +what they were before. Others, however, there are who procure these +papers and make use of them honestly, and remain on Christian soil. This +friend of mine, then, was one of these renegades that I have described; +he had certificates from all our comrades, in which we testified in his +favour as strongly as we could; and if the Moors had found the papers +they would have burned him alive. + +I knew that he understood Arabic very well, and could not only speak but +also write it; but before I disclosed the whole matter to him, I asked +him to read for me this paper which I had found by accident in a hole in +my cell. He opened it and remained some time examining it and muttering +to himself as he translated it. I asked him if he understood it, and he +told me he did perfectly well, and that if I wished him to tell me its +meaning word for word, I must give him pen and ink that he might do it +more satisfactorily. We at once gave him what he required, and he set +about translating it bit by bit, and when he had done he said: + +"All that is here in Spanish is what the Moorish paper contains, and you +must bear in mind that when it says 'Lela Marien' it means 'Our Lady the +Virgin Mary.'" + +We read the paper and it ran thus: + +"When I was a child my father had a slave who taught me to pray the +Christian prayer in my own language, and told me many things about Lela +Marien. The Christian died, and I know that she did not go to the fire, +but to Allah, because since then I have seen her twice, and she told me +to go to the land of the Christians to see Lela Marien, who had great +love for me. I know not how to go. I have seen many Christians, but +except thyself none has seemed to me to be a gentleman. I am young and +beautiful, and have plenty of money to take with me. See if thou canst +contrive how we may go, and if thou wilt thou shalt be my husband there, +and if thou wilt not it will not distress me, for Lela Marien will find +me some one to marry me. I myself have written this: have a care to whom +thou givest it to read: trust no Moor, for they are all perfidious. I am +greatly troubled on this account, for I would not have thee confide in +anyone, because if my father knew it he would at once fling me down a +well and cover me with stones. I will put a thread to the reed; tie the +answer to it, and if thou hast no one to write for thee in Arabic, tell +it to me by signs, for Lela Marien will make me understand thee. She and +Allah and this cross, which I often kiss as the captive bade me, protect +thee." + +Judge, sirs, whether we had reason for surprise and joy at the words of +this paper; and both one and the other were so great, that the renegade +perceived that the paper had not been found by chance, but had been in +reality addressed to some one of us, and he begged us, if what he +suspected were the truth, to trust him and tell him all, for he would +risk his life for our freedom; and so saying he took out from his breast +a metal crucifix, and with many tears swore by the God the image +represented, in whom, sinful and wicked as he was, he truly and +faithfully believed, to be loyal to us and keep secret whatever we chose +to reveal to him; for he thought and almost foresaw that by means of her +who had written that paper, he and all of us would obtain our liberty, +and he himself obtain the object he so much desired, his restoration to +the bosom of the Holy Mother Church, from which by his own sin and +ignorance he was now severed like a corrupt limb. The renegade said this +with so many tears and such signs of repentance, that with one consent we +all agreed to tell him the whole truth of the matter, and so we gave him +a full account of all, without hiding anything from him. We pointed out +to him the window at which the reed appeared, and he by that means took +note of the house, and resolved to ascertain with particular care who +lived in it. We agreed also that it would be advisable to answer the +Moorish lady's letter, and the renegade without a moment's delay took +down the words I dictated to him, which were exactly what I shall tell +you, for nothing of importance that took place in this affair has escaped +my memory, or ever will while life lasts. This, then, was the answer +returned to the Moorish lady: + +"The true Allah protect thee, Lady, and that blessed Marien who is the +true mother of God, and who has put it into thy heart to go to the land +of the Christians, because she loves thee. Entreat her that she be +pleased to show thee how thou canst execute the command she gives thee, +for she will, such is her goodness. On my own part, and on that of all +these Christians who are with me, I promise to do all that we can for +thee, even to death. Fail not to write to me and inform me what thou dost +mean to do, and I will always answer thee; for the great Allah has given +us a Christian captive who can speak and write thy language well, as thou +mayest see by this paper; without fear, therefore, thou canst inform us +of all thou wouldst. As to what thou sayest, that if thou dost reach the +land of the Christians thou wilt be my wife, I give thee my promise upon +it as a good Christian; and know that the Christians keep their promises +better than the Moors. Allah and Marien his mother watch over thee, my +Lady." + +The paper being written and folded I waited two days until the bano was +empty as before, and immediately repaired to the usual walk on the +terrace to see if there were any sign of the reed, which was not long in +making its appearance. As soon as I saw it, although I could not +distinguish who put it out, I showed the paper as a sign to attach the +thread, but it was already fixed to the reed, and to it I tied the paper; +and shortly afterwards our star once more made its appearance with the +white flag of peace, the little bundle. It was dropped, and I picked it +up, and found in the cloth, in gold and silver coins of all sorts, more +than fifty crowns, which fifty times more strengthened our joy and +doubled our hope of gaining our liberty. That very night our renegade +returned and said he had learned that the Moor we had been told of lived +in that house, that his name was Hadji Morato, that he was enormously +rich, that he had one only daughter the heiress of all his wealth, and +that it was the general opinion throughout the city that she was the most +beautiful woman in Barbary, and that several of the viceroys who came +there had sought her for a wife, but that she had been always unwilling +to marry; and he had learned, moreover, that she had a Christian slave +who was now dead; all which agreed with the contents of the paper. We +immediately took counsel with the renegade as to what means would have to +be adopted in order to carry off the Moorish lady and bring us all to +Christian territory; and in the end it was agreed that for the present we +should wait for a second communication from Zoraida (for that was the +name of her who now desires to be called Maria), because we saw clearly +that she and no one else could find a way out of all these difficulties. +When we had decided upon this the renegade told us not to be uneasy, for +he would lose his life or restore us to liberty. For four days the bano +was filled with people, for which reason the reed delayed its appearance +for four days, but at the end of that time, when the bano was, as it +generally was, empty, it appeared with the cloth so bulky that it +promised a happy birth. Reed and cloth came down to me, and I found +another paper and a hundred crowns in gold, without any other coin. The +renegade was present, and in our cell we gave him the paper to read, +which was to this effect: + +"I cannot think of a plan, senor, for our going to Spain, nor has Lela +Marien shown me one, though I have asked her. All that can be done is for +me to give you plenty of money in gold from this window. With it ransom +yourself and your friends, and let one of you go to the land of the +Christians, and there buy a vessel and come back for the others; and he +will find me in my father's garden, which is at the Babazon gate near the +seashore, where I shall be all this summer with my father and my +servants. You can carry me away from there by night without any danger, +and bring me to the vessel. And remember thou art to be my husband, else +I will pray to Marien to punish thee. If thou canst not trust anyone to +go for the vessel, ransom thyself and do thou go, for I know thou wilt +return more surely than any other, as thou art a gentleman and a +Christian. Endeavour to make thyself acquainted with the garden; and when +I see thee walking yonder I shall know that the bano is empty and I will +give thee abundance of money. Allah protect thee, senor." + +These were the words and contents of the second paper, and on hearing +them, each declared himself willing to be the ransomed one, and promised +to go and return with scrupulous good faith; and I too made the same +offer; but to all this the renegade objected, saying that he would not on +any account consent to one being set free before all went together, as +experience had taught him how ill those who have been set free keep +promises which they made in captivity; for captives of distinction +frequently had recourse to this plan, paying the ransom of one who was to +go to Valencia or Majorca with money to enable him to arm a bark and +return for the others who had ransomed him, but who never came back; for +recovered liberty and the dread of losing it again efface from the memory +all the obligations in the world. And to prove the truth of what he said, +he told us briefly what had happened to a certain Christian gentleman +almost at that very time, the strangest case that had ever occurred even +there, where astonishing and marvellous things are happening every +instant. In short, he ended by saying that what could and ought to be +done was to give the money intended for the ransom of one of us +Christians to him, so that he might with it buy a vessel there in Algiers +under the pretence of becoming a merchant and trader at Tetuan and along +the coast; and when master of the vessel, it would be easy for him to hit +on some way of getting us all out of the bano and putting us on board; +especially if the Moorish lady gave, as she said, money enough to ransom +all, because once free it would be the easiest thing in the world for us +to embark even in open day; but the greatest difficulty was that the +Moors do not allow any renegade to buy or own any craft, unless it be a +large vessel for going on roving expeditions, because they are afraid +that anyone who buys a small vessel, especially if he be a Spaniard, only +wants it for the purpose of escaping to Christian territory. This however +he could get over by arranging with a Tagarin Moor to go shares with him +in the purchase of the vessel, and in the profit on the cargo; and under +cover of this he could become master of the vessel, in which case he +looked upon all the rest as accomplished. But though to me and my +comrades it had seemed a better plan to send to Majorca for the vessel, +as the Moorish lady suggested, we did not dare to oppose him, fearing +that if we did not do as he said he would denounce us, and place us in +danger of losing all our lives if he were to disclose our dealings with +Zoraida, for whose life we would have all given our own. We therefore +resolved to put ourselves in the hands of God and in the renegade's; and +at the same time an answer was given to Zoraida, telling her that we +would do all she recommended, for she had given as good advice as if Lela +Marien had delivered it, and that it depended on her alone whether we +were to defer the business or put it in execution at once. I renewed my +promise to be her husband; and thus the next day that the bano chanced to +be empty she at different times gave us by means of the reed and cloth +two thousand gold crowns and a paper in which she said that the next +Juma, that is to say Friday, she was going to her father's garden, but +that before she went she would give us more money; and if it were not +enough we were to let her know, as she would give us as much as we asked, +for her father had so much he would not miss it, and besides she kept all +the keys. + +We at once gave the renegade five hundred crowns to buy the vessel, and +with eight hundred I ransomed myself, giving the money to a Valencian +merchant who happened to be in Algiers at the time, and who had me +released on his word, pledging it that on the arrival of the first ship +from Valencia he would pay my ransom; for if he had given the money at +once it would have made the king suspect that my ransom money had been +for a long time in Algiers, and that the merchant had for his own +advantage kept it secret. In fact my master was so difficult to deal with +that I dared not on any account pay down the money at once. The Thursday +before the Friday on which the fair Zoraida was to go to the garden she +gave us a thousand crowns more, and warned us of her departure, begging +me, if I were ransomed, to find out her father's garden at once, and by +all means to seek an opportunity of going there to see her. I answered in +a few words that I would do so, and that she must remember to commend us +to Lela Marien with all the prayers the captive had taught her. This +having been done, steps were taken to ransom our three comrades, so as to +enable them to quit the bano, and lest, seeing me ransomed and themselves +not, though the money was forthcoming, they should make a disturbance +about it and the devil should prompt them to do something that might +injure Zoraida; for though their position might be sufficient to relieve +me from this apprehension, nevertheless I was unwilling to run any risk +in the matter; and so I had them ransomed in the same way as I was, +handing over all the money to the merchant so that he might with safety +and confidence give security; without, however, confiding our arrangement +and secret to him, which might have been dangerous. + +Chapter XLI. - +In which the captive still continues his adventures + +Before fifteen days were over our renegade had already purchased an +excellent vessel with room for more than thirty persons; and to make the +transaction safe and lend a colour to it, he thought it well to make, as +he did, a voyage to a place called Shershel, twenty leagues from Algiers +on the Oran side, where there is an extensive trade in dried figs. Two or +three times he made this voyage in company with the Tagarin already +mentioned. The Moors of Aragon are called Tagarins in Barbary, and those +of Granada Mudejars; but in the Kingdom of Fez they call the Mudejars +Elches, and they are the people the king chiefly employs in war. To +proceed: every time he passed with his vessel he anchored in a cove that +was not two crossbow shots from the garden where Zoraida was waiting; and +there the renegade, together with the two Moorish lads that rowed, used +purposely to station himself, either going through his prayers, or else +practising as a part what he meant to perform in earnest. And thus he +would go to Zoraida's garden and ask for fruit, which her father gave +him, not knowing him; but though, as he afterwards told me, he sought to +speak to Zoraida, and tell her who he was, and that by my orders he was +to take her to the land of the Christians, so that she might feel +satisfied and easy, he had never been able to do so; for the Moorish +women do not allow themselves to be seen by any Moor or Turk, unless +their husband or father bid them: with Christian captives they permit +freedom of intercourse and communication, even more than might be +considered proper. But for my part I should have been sorry if he had +spoken to her, for perhaps it might have alarmed her to find her affairs +talked of by renegades. But God, who ordered it otherwise, afforded no +opportunity for our renegade's well-meant purpose; and he, seeing how +safely he could go to Shershel and return, and anchor when and how and +where he liked, and that the Tagarin his partner had no will but his, and +that, now I was ransomed, all we wanted was to find some Christians to +row, told me to look out for any I should be willing to take with me, +over and above those who had been ransomed, and to engage them for the +next Friday, which he fixed upon for our departure. On this I spoke to +twelve Spaniards, all stout rowers, and such as could most easily leave +the city; but it was no easy matter to find so many just then, because +there were twenty ships out on a cruise and they had taken all the rowers +with them; and these would not have been found were it not that their +master remained at home that summer without going to sea in order to +finish a galliot that he had upon the stocks. To these men I said nothing +more than that the next Friday in the evening they were to come out +stealthily one by one and hang about Hadji Morato's garden, waiting for +me there until I came. These directions I gave each one separately, with +orders that if they saw any other Christians there they were not to say +anything to them except that I had directed them to wait at that spot. + +This preliminary having been settled, another still more necessary step +had to be taken, which was to let Zoraida know how matters stood that she +might be prepared and forewarned, so as not to be taken by surprise if we +were suddenly to seize upon her before she thought the Christians' vessel +could have returned. I determined, therefore, to go to the garden and try +if I could speak to her; and the day before my departure I went there +under the pretence of gathering herbs. The first person I met was her +father, who addressed me in the language that all over Barbary and even +in Constantinople is the medium between captives and Moors, and is +neither Morisco nor Castilian, nor of any other nation, but a mixture of +all languages, by means of which we can all understand one another. In +this sort of language, I say, he asked me what I wanted in his garden, +and to whom I belonged. I replied that I was a slave of the Arnaut Mami +(for I knew as a certainty that he was a very great friend of his), and +that I wanted some herbs to make a salad. He asked me then whether I were +on ransom or not, and what my master demanded for me. While these +questions and answers were proceeding, the fair Zoraida, who had already +perceived me some time before, came out of the house in the garden, and +as Moorish women are by no means particular about letting themselves be +seen by Christians, or, as I have said before, at all coy, she had no +hesitation in coming to where her father stood with me; moreover her +father, seeing her approaching slowly, called to her to come. It would be +beyond my power now to describe to you the great beauty, the high-bred +air, the brilliant attire of my beloved Zoraida as she presented herself +before my eyes. I will content myself with saying that more pearls hung +from her fair neck, her ears, and her hair than she had hairs on her +head. On her ankles, which as is customary were bare, she had carcajes +(for so bracelets or anklets are called in Morisco) of the purest gold, +set with so many diamonds that she told me afterwards her father valued +them at ten thousand doubloons, and those she had on her wrists were +worth as much more. The pearls were in profusion and very fine, for the +highest display and adornment of the Moorish women is decking themselves +with rich pearls and seed-pearls; and of these there are therefore more +among the Moors than among any other people. Zoraida's father had to the +reputation of possessing a great number, and the purest in all Algiers, +and of possessing also more than two hundred thousand Spanish crowns; and +she, who is now mistress of me only, was mistress of all this. Whether +thus adorned she would have been beautiful or not, and what she must have +been in her prosperity, may be imagined from the beauty remaining to her +after so many hardships; for, as everyone knows, the beauty of some women +has its times and its seasons, and is increased or diminished by chance +causes; and naturally the emotions of the mind will heighten or impair +it, though indeed more frequently they totally destroy it. In a word she +presented herself before me that day attired with the utmost splendour, +and supremely beautiful; at any rate, she seemed to me the most beautiful +object I had ever seen; and when, besides, I thought of all I owed to her +I felt as though I had before me some heavenly being come to earth to +bring me relief and happiness. + +As she approached her father told her in his own language that I was a +captive belonging to his friend the Arnaut Mami, and that I had come for +salad. + +She took up the conversation, and in that mixture of tongues I have +spoken of she asked me if I was a gentleman, and why I was not ransomed. + +I answered that I was already ransomed, and that by the price it might be +seen what value my master set on me, as I had given one thousand five +hundred zoltanis for me; to which she replied, "Hadst thou been my +father's, I can tell thee, I would not have let him part with thee for +twice as much, for you Christians always tell lies about yourselves and +make yourselves out poor to cheat the Moors." + +"That may be, lady," said I; "but indeed I dealt truthfully with my +master, as I do and mean to do with everybody in the world." + +"And when dost thou go?" said Zoraida. + +"To-morrow, I think," said I, "for there is a vessel here from France +which sails to-morrow, and I think I shall go in her." + +"Would it not be better," said Zoraida, "to wait for the arrival of ships +from Spain and go with them and not with the French who are not your +friends?" + +"No," said I; "though if there were intelligence that a vessel were now +coming from Spain it is true I might, perhaps, wait for it; however, it +is more likely I shall depart to-morrow, for the longing I feel to return +to my country and to those I love is so great that it will not allow me +to wait for another opportunity, however more convenient, if it be +delayed." + +"No doubt thou art married in thine own country," said Zoraida, "and for +that reason thou art anxious to go and see thy wife." + +"I am not married," I replied, "but I have given my promise to marry on +my arrival there." + +"And is the lady beautiful to whom thou hast given it?" said Zoraida. + +"So beautiful," said I, "that, to describe her worthily and tell thee the +truth, she is very like thee." + +At this her father laughed very heartily and said, "By Allah, Christian, +she must be very beautiful if she is like my daughter, who is the most +beautiful woman in all this kingdom: only look at her well and thou wilt +see I am telling the truth." + +Zoraida's father as the better linguist helped to interpret most of these +words and phrases, for though she spoke the bastard language, that, as I +have said, is employed there, she expressed her meaning more by signs +than by words. + +While we were still engaged in this conversation, a Moor came running up, +exclaiming that four Turks had leaped over the fence or wall of the +garden, and were gathering the fruit though it was not yet ripe. The old +man was alarmed and Zoraida too, for the Moors commonly, and, so to +speak, instinctively have a dread of the Turks, but particularly of the +soldiers, who are so insolent and domineering to the Moors who are under +their power that they treat them worse than if they were their slaves. +Her father said to Zoraida, "Daughter, retire into the house and shut +thyself in while I go and speak to these dogs; and thou, Christian, pick +thy herbs, and go in peace, and Allah bring thee safe to thy own +country." + +I bowed, and he went away to look for the Turks, leaving me alone with +Zoraida, who made as if she were about to retire as her father bade her; +but the moment he was concealed by the trees of the garden, turning to me +with her eyes full of tears she said, "Tameji, cristiano, tameji?" that is +to say, "Art thou going, Christian, art thou going?" + +I made answer, "Yes, lady, but not without thee, come what may: be on the +watch for me on the next Juma, and be not alarmed when thou seest us; for +most surely we shall go to the land of the Christians." + +This I said in such a way that she understood perfectly all that passed +between us, and throwing her arm round my neck she began with feeble +steps to move towards the house; but as fate would have it (and it might +have been very unfortunate if Heaven had not otherwise ordered it), just +as we were moving on in the manner and position I have described, with +her arm round my neck, her father, as he returned after having sent away +the Turks, saw how we were walking and we perceived that he saw us; but +Zoraida, ready and quickwitted, took care not to remove her arm from my +neck, but on the contrary drew closer to me and laid her head on my +breast, bending her knees a little and showing all the signs and tokens +of fainting, while I at the same time made it seem as though I were +supporting her against my will. Her father came running up to where we +were, and seeing his daughter in this state asked what was the matter +with her; she, however, giving no answer, he said, "No doubt she has +fainted in alarm at the entrance of those dogs," and taking her from mine +he drew her to his own breast, while she sighing, her eyes still wet with +tears, said again, "Ameji, cristiano, ameji"--"Go, Christian, go." To +this her father replied, "There is no need, daughter, for the Christian +to go, for he has done thee no harm, and the Turks have now gone; feel no +alarm, there is nothing to hurt thee, for as I say, the Turks at my +request have gone back the way they came." + +"It was they who terrified her, as thou hast said, senor," said I to her +father; "but since she tells me to go, I have no wish to displease her: +peace be with thee, and with thy leave I will come back to this garden +for herbs if need be, for my master says there are nowhere better herbs +for salad then here." + +"Come back for any thou hast need of," replied Hadji Morato; "for my +daughter does not speak thus because she is displeased with thee or any +Christian: she only meant that the Turks should go, not thou; or that it +was time for thee to look for thy herbs." + +With this I at once took my leave of both; and she, looking as though her +heart were breaking, retired with her father. While pretending to look +for herbs I made the round of the garden at my ease, and studied +carefully all the approaches and outlets, and the fastenings of the house +and everything that could be taken advantage of to make our task easy. + +Having done so I went and gave an account of all that had taken place to +the renegade and my comrades, and looked forward with impatience to the +hour when, all fear at an end, I should find myself in possession of the +prize which fortune held out to me in the fair and lovely Zoraida. The +time passed at length, and the appointed day we so longed for arrived; +and, all following out the arrangement and plan which, after careful +consideration and many a long discussion, we had decided upon, we +succeeded as fully as we could have wished; for on the Friday following +the day upon which I spoke to Zoraida in the garden, the renegade +anchored his vessel at nightfall almost opposite the spot where she was. +The Christians who were to row were ready and in hiding in different +places round about, all waiting for me, anxious and elated, and eager to +attack the vessel they had before their eyes; for they did not know the +renegade's plan, but expected that they were to gain their liberty by +force of arms and by killing the Moors who were on board the vessel. As +soon, then, as I and my comrades made our appearance, all those that were +in hiding seeing us came and joined us. It was now the time when the city +gates are shut, and there was no one to be seen in all the space outside. +When we were collected together we debated whether it would be better +first to go for Zoraida, or to make prisoners of the Moorish rowers who +rowed in the vessel; but while we were still uncertain our renegade came +up asking us what kept us, as it was now the time, and all the Moors were +off their guard and most of them asleep. We told him why we hesitated, +but he said it was of more importance first to secure the vessel, which +could be done with the greatest ease and without any danger, and then we +could go for Zoraida. We all approved of what he said, and so without +further delay, guided by him we made for the vessel, and he leaping on +board first, drew his cutlass and said in Morisco, "Let no one stir from +this if he does not want it to cost him his life." By this almost all the +Christians were on board, and the Moors, who were fainthearted, hearing +their captain speak in this way, were cowed, and without any one of them +taking to his arms (and indeed they had few or hardly any) they submitted +without saying a word to be bound by the Christians, who quickly secured +them, threatening them that if they raised any kind of outcry they would +be all put to the sword. This having been accomplished, and half of our +party being left to keep guard over them, the rest of us, again taking +the renegade as our guide, hastened towards Hadji Morato's garden, and as +good luck would have it, on trying the gate it opened as easily as if it +had not been locked; and so, quite quietly and in silence, we reached the +house without being perceived by anybody. The lovely Zoraida was watching +for us at a window, and as soon as she perceived that there were people +there, she asked in a low voice if we were "Nizarani," as much as to say +or ask if we were Christians. I answered that we were, and begged her to +come down. As soon as she recognised me she did not delay an instant, but +without answering a word came down immediately, opened the door and +presented herself before us all, so beautiful and so richly attired that +I cannot attempt to describe her. The moment I saw her I took her hand +and kissed it, and the renegade and my two comrades did the same; and the +rest, who knew nothing of the circumstances, did as they saw us do, for +it only seemed as if we were returning thanks to her, and recognising her +as the giver of our liberty. The renegade asked her in the Morisco +language if her father was in the house. She replied that he was and that +he was asleep. + +"Then it will be necessary to waken him and take him with us," said the +renegade, "and everything of value in this fair mansion." + +"Nay," said she, "my father must not on any account be touched, and there +is nothing in the house except what I shall take, and that will be quite +enough to enrich and satisfy all of you; wait a little and you shall +see," and so saying she went in, telling us she would return immediately +and bidding us keep quiet making any noise. + +I asked the renegade what had passed between them, and when he told me, I +declared that nothing should be done except in accordance with the wishes +of Zoraida, who now came back with a little trunk so full of gold crowns +that she could scarcely carry it. Unfortunately her father awoke while +this was going on, and hearing a noise in the garden, came to the window, +and at once perceiving that all those who were there were Christians, +raising a prodigiously loud outcry, he began to call out in Arabic, +"Christians, Christians! thieves, thieves!" by which cries we were all +thrown into the greatest fear and embarrassment; but the renegade seeing +the danger we were in and how important it was for him to effect his +purpose before we were heard, mounted with the utmost quickness to where +Hadji Morato was, and with him went some of our party; I, however, did +not dare to leave Zoraida, who had fallen almost fainting in my arms. To +be brief, those who had gone upstairs acted so promptly that in an +instant they came down, carrying Hadji Morato with his hands bound and a +napkin tied over his mouth, which prevented him from uttering a word, +warning him at the same time that to attempt to speak would cost him his +life. When his daughter caught sight of him she covered her eyes so as +not to see him, and her father was horror-stricken, not knowing how +willingly she had placed herself in our hands. But it was now most +essential for us to be on the move, and carefully and quickly we regained +the vessel, where those who had remained on board were waiting for us in +apprehension of some mishap having befallen us. It was barely two hours +after night set in when we were all on board the vessel, where the cords +were removed from the hands of Zoraida's father, and the napkin from his +mouth; but the renegade once more told him not to utter a word, or they +would take his life. He, when he saw his daughter there, began to sigh +piteously, and still more when he perceived that I held her closely +embraced and that she lay quiet without resisting or complaining, or +showing any reluctance; nevertheless he remained silent lest they should +carry into effect the repeated threats the renegade had addressed to him. + +Finding herself now on board, and that we were about to give way with the +oars, Zoraida, seeing her father there, and the other Moors bound, bade +the renegade ask me to do her the favour of releasing the Moors and +setting her father at liberty, for she would rather drown herself in the +sea than suffer a father that had loved her so dearly to be carried away +captive before her eyes and on her account. The renegade repeated this to +me, and I replied that I was very willing to do so; but he replied that +it was not advisable, because if they were left there they would at once +raise the country and stir up the city, and lead to the despatch of swift +cruisers in pursuit, and our being taken, by sea or land, without any +possibility of escape; and that all that could be done was to set them +free on the first Christian ground we reached. On this point we all +agreed; and Zoraida, to whom it was explained, together with the reasons +that prevented us from doing at once what she desired, was satisfied +likewise; and then in glad silence and with cheerful alacrity each of our +stout rowers took his oar, and commending ourselves to God with all our +hearts, we began to shape our course for the island of Majorca, the +nearest Christian land. Owing, however, to the Tramontana rising a +little, and the sea growing somewhat rough, it was impossible for us to +keep a straight course for Majorca, and we were compelled to coast in the +direction of Oran, not without great uneasiness on our part lest we +should be observed from the town of Shershel, which lies on that coast, +not more than sixty miles from Algiers. Moreover we were afraid of +meeting on that course one of the galliots that usually come with goods +from Tetuan; although each of us for himself and all of us together felt +confident that, if we were to meet a merchant galliot, so that it were +not a cruiser, not only should we not be lost, but that we should take a +vessel in which we could more safely accomplish our voyage. As we pursued +our course Zoraida kept her head between my hands so as not to see her +father, and I felt that she was praying to Lela Marien to help us. + +We might have made about thirty miles when daybreak found us some three +musket-shots off the land, which seemed to us deserted, and without +anyone to see us. For all that, however, by hard rowing we put out a +little to sea, for it was now somewhat calmer, and having gained about +two leagues the word was given to row by batches, while we ate something, +for the vessel was well provided; but the rowers said it was not a time +to take any rest; let food be served out to those who were not rowing, +but they would not leave their oars on any account. This was done, but +now a stiff breeze began to blow, which obliged us to leave off rowing +and make sail at once and steer for Oran, as it was impossible to make +any other course. All this was done very promptly, and under sail we ran +more than eight miles an hour without any fear, except that of coming +across some vessel out on a roving expedition. We gave the Moorish rowers +some food, and the renegade comforted them by telling them that they were +not held as captives, as we should set them free on the first +opportunity. + +The same was said to Zoraida's father, who replied, "Anything else, +Christian, I might hope for or think likely from your generosity and good +behaviour, but do not think me so simple as to imagine you will give me +my liberty; for you would have never exposed yourselves to the danger of +depriving me of it only to restore it to me so generously, especially as +you know who I am and the sum you may expect to receive on restoring it; +and if you will only name that, I here offer you all you require for +myself and for my unhappy daughter there; or else for her alone, for she +is the greatest and most precious part of my soul." + +As he said this he began to weep so bitterly that he filled us all with +compassion and forced Zoraida to look at him, and when she saw him +weeping she was so moved that she rose from my feet and ran to throw her +arms round him, and pressing her face to his, they both gave way to such +an outburst of tears that several of us were constrained to keep them +company. + +But when her father saw her in full dress and with all her jewels about +her, he said to her in his own language, "What means this, my daughter? +Last night, before this terrible misfortune in which we are plunged +befell us, I saw thee in thy everyday and indoor garments; and now, +without having had time to attire thyself, and without my bringing thee +any joyful tidings to furnish an occasion for adorning and bedecking +thyself, I see thee arrayed in the finest attire it would be in my power +to give thee when fortune was most kind to us. Answer me this; for it +causes me greater anxiety and surprise than even this misfortune itself." + +The renegade interpreted to us what the Moor said to his daughter; she, +however, returned him no answer. But when he observed in one corner of +the vessel the little trunk in which she used to keep her jewels, which +he well knew he had left in Algiers and had not brought to the garden, he +was still more amazed, and asked her how that trunk had come into our +hands, and what there was in it. To which the renegade, without waiting +for Zoraida to reply, made answer, "Do not trouble thyself by asking thy +daughter Zoraida so many questions, senor, for the one answer I will give +thee will serve for all; I would have thee know that she is a Christian, +and that it is she who has been the file for our chains and our deliverer +from captivity. She is here of her own free will, as glad, I imagine, to +find herself in this position as he who escapes from darkness into the +light, from death to life, and from suffering to glory." + +"Daughter, is this true, what he says?" cried the Moor. + +"It is," replied Zoraida. + +"That thou art in truth a Christian," said the old man, "and that thou +hast given thy father into the power of his enemies?" + +To which Zoraida made answer, "A Christian I am, but it is not I who have +placed thee in this position, for it never was my wish to leave thee or +do thee harm, but only to do good to myself." + +"And what good hast thou done thyself, daughter?" said he. + +"Ask thou that," said she, "of Lela Marien, for she can tell thee better +than I." + +The Moor had hardly heard these words when with marvellous quickness he +flung himself headforemost into the sea, where no doubt he would have +been drowned had not the long and full dress he wore held him up for a +little on the surface of the water. Zoraida cried aloud to us to save +him, and we all hastened to help, and seizing him by his robe we drew him +in half drowned and insensible, at which Zoraida was in such distress +that she wept over him as piteously and bitterly as though he were +already dead. We turned him upon his face and he voided a great quantity +of water, and at the end of two hours came to himself. Meanwhile, the +wind having changed we were compelled to head for the land, and ply our +oars to avoid being driven on shore; but it was our good fortune to reach +a creek that lies on one side of a small promontory or cape, called by +the Moors that of the "Cava rumia," which in our language means "the +wicked Christian woman;" for it is a tradition among them that La Cava, +through whom Spain was lost, lies buried at that spot; "cava" in their +language meaning "wicked woman," and "rumia" "Christian;" moreover, they +count it unlucky to anchor there when necessity compels them, and they +never do so otherwise. For us, however, it was not the resting-place of +the wicked woman but a haven of safety for our relief, so much had the +sea now got up. We posted a look-out on shore, and never let the oars out +of our hands, and ate of the stores the renegade had laid in, imploring +God and Our Lady with all our hearts to help and protect us, that we +might give a happy ending to a beginning so prosperous. At the entreaty +of Zoraida orders were given to set on shore her father and the other +Moors who were still bound, for she could not endure, nor could her +tender heart bear to see her father in bonds and her fellow-countrymen +prisoners before her eyes. We promised her to do this at the moment of +departure, for as it was uninhabited we ran no risk in releasing them at +that place. + +Our prayers were not so far in vain as to be unheard by Heaven, for after +a while the wind changed in our favour, and made the sea calm, inviting +us once more to resume our voyage with a good heart. Seeing this we +unbound the Moors, and one by one put them on shore, at which they were +filled with amazement; but when we came to land Zoraida's father, who had +now completely recovered his senses, he said: + +"Why is it, think ye, Christians, that this wicked woman is rejoiced at +your giving me my liberty? Think ye it is because of the affection she +bears me? Nay verily, it is only because of the hindrance my presence +offers to the execution of her base designs. And think not that it is her +belief that yours is better than ours that has led her to change her +religion; it is only because she knows that immodesty is more freely +practised in your country than in ours." Then turning to Zoraida, while I +and another of the Christians held him fast by both arms, lest he should +do some mad act, he said to her, "Infamous girl, misguided maiden, +whither in thy blindness and madness art thou going in the hands of these +dogs, our natural enemies? Cursed be the hour when I begot thee! Cursed +the luxury and indulgence in which I reared thee!" + +But seeing that he was not likely soon to cease I made haste to put him +on shore, and thence he continued his maledictions and lamentations +aloud; calling on Mohammed to pray to Allah to destroy us, to confound +us, to make an end of us; and when, in consequence of having made sail, +we could no longer hear what he said we could see what he did; how he +plucked out his beard and tore his hair and lay writhing on the ground. +But once he raised his voice to such a pitch that we were able to hear +what he said. "Come back, dear daughter, come back to shore; I forgive +thee all; let those men have the money, for it is theirs now, and come +back to comfort thy sorrowing father, who will yield up his life on this +barren strand if thou dost leave him." + +All this Zoraida heard, and heard with sorrow and tears, and all she +could say in answer was, "Allah grant that Lela Marien, who has made me +become a Christian, give thee comfort in thy sorrow, my father. Allah +knows that I could not do otherwise than I have done, and that these +Christians owe nothing to my will; for even had I wished not to accompany +them, but remain at home, it would have been impossible for me, so +eagerly did my soul urge me on to the accomplishment of this purpose, +which I feel to be as righteous as to thee, dear father, it seems +wicked." + +But neither could her father hear her nor we see him when she said this; +and so, while I consoled Zoraida, we turned our attention to our voyage, +in which a breeze from the right point so favoured us that we made sure +of finding ourselves off the coast of Spain on the morrow by daybreak. +But, as good seldom or never comes pure and unmixed, without being +attended or followed by some disturbing evil that gives a shock to it, +our fortune, or perhaps the curses which the Moor had hurled at his +daughter (for whatever kind of father they may come from these are always +to be dreaded), brought it about that when we were now in mid-sea, and +the night about three hours spent, as we were running with all sail set +and oars lashed, for the favouring breeze saved us the trouble of using +them, we saw by the light of the moon, which shone brilliantly, a +square-rigged vessel in full sail close to us, luffing up and standing +across our course, and so close that we had to strike sail to avoid +running foul of her, while they too put the helm hard up to let us pass. +They came to the side of the ship to ask who we were, whither we were +bound, and whence we came, but as they asked this in French our renegade +said, "Let no one answer, for no doubt these are French corsairs who +plunder all comers." + +Acting on this warning no one answered a word, but after we had gone a +little ahead, and the vessel was now lying to leeward, suddenly they +fired two guns, and apparently both loaded with chain-shot, for with one +they cut our mast in half and brought down both it and the sail into the +sea, and the other, discharged at the same moment, sent a ball into our +vessel amidships, staving her in completely, but without doing any +further damage. We, however, finding ourselves sinking began to shout for +help and call upon those in the ship to pick us up as we were beginning +to fill. They then lay to, and lowering a skiff or boat, as many as a +dozen Frenchmen, well armed with match-locks, and their matches burning, +got into it and came alongside; and seeing how few we were, and that our +vessel was going down, they took us in, telling us that this had come to +us through our incivility in not giving them an answer. Our renegade took +the trunk containing Zoraida's wealth and dropped it into the sea without +anyone perceiving what he did. In short we went on board with the +Frenchmen, who, after having ascertained all they wanted to know about +us, rifled us of everything we had, as if they had been our bitterest +enemies, and from Zoraida they took even the anklets she wore on her +feet; but the distress they caused her did not distress me so much as the +fear I was in that from robbing her of her rich and precious jewels they +would proceed to rob her of the most precious jewel that she valued more +than all. The desires, however, of those people do not go beyond money, +but of that their covetousness is insatiable, and on this occasion it was +carried to such a pitch that they would have taken even the clothes we +wore as captives if they had been worth anything to them. It was the +advice of some of them to throw us all into the sea wrapped up in a sail; +for their purpose was to trade at some of the ports of Spain, giving +themselves out as Bretons, and if they brought us alive they would be +punished as soon as the robbery was discovered; but the captain (who was +the one who had plundered my beloved Zoraida) said he was satisfied with +the prize he had got, and that he would not touch at any Spanish port, +but pass the Straits of Gibraltar by night, or as best he could, and make +for La Rochelle, from which he had sailed. So they agreed by common +consent to give us the skiff belonging to their ship and all we required +for the short voyage that remained to us, and this they did the next day +on coming in sight of the Spanish coast, with which, and the joy we felt, +all our sufferings and miseries were as completely forgotten as if they +had never been endured by us, such is the delight of recovering lost +liberty. + +It may have been about mid-day when they placed us in the boat, giving us +two kegs of water and some biscuit; and the captain, moved by I know not +what compassion, as the lovely Zoraida was about to embark, gave her some +forty gold crowns, and would not permit his men to take from her those +same garments which she has on now. We got into the boat, returning them +thanks for their kindness to us, and showing ourselves grateful rather +than indignant. They stood out to sea, steering for the straits; we, +without looking to any compass save the land we had before us, set +ourselves to row with such energy that by sunset we were so near that we +might easily, we thought, land before the night was far advanced. But as +the moon did not show that night, and the sky was clouded, and as we knew +not whereabouts we were, it did not seem to us a prudent thing to make +for the shore, as several of us advised, saying we ought to run ourselves +ashore even if it were on rocks and far from any habitation, for in this +way we should be relieved from the apprehensions we naturally felt of the +prowling vessels of the Tetuan corsairs, who leave Barbary at nightfall +and are on the Spanish coast by daybreak, where they commonly take some +prize, and then go home to sleep in their own houses. But of the +conflicting counsels the one which was adopted was that we should +approach gradually, and land where we could if the sea were calm enough +to permit us. This was done, and a little before midnight we drew near to +the foot of a huge and lofty mountain, not so close to the sea but that +it left a narrow space on which to land conveniently. We ran our boat up +on the sand, and all sprang out and kissed the ground, and with tears of +joyful satisfaction returned thanks to God our Lord for all his +incomparable goodness to us on our voyage. We took out of the boat the +provisions it contained, and drew it up on the shore, and then climbed a +long way up the mountain, for even there we could not feel easy in our +hearts, or persuade ourselves that it was Christian soil that was now +under our feet. + +The dawn came, more slowly, I think, than we could have wished; we +completed the ascent in order to see if from the summit any habitation or +any shepherds' huts could be discovered, but strain our eyes as we might, +neither dwelling, nor human being, nor path nor road could we perceive. +However, we determined to push on farther, as it could not but be that +ere long we must see some one who could tell us where we were. But what +distressed me most was to see Zoraida going on foot over that rough +ground; for though I once carried her on my shoulders, she was more +wearied by my weariness than rested by the rest; and so she would never +again allow me to undergo the exertion, and went on very patiently and +cheerfully, while I led her by the hand. We had gone rather less than a +quarter of a league when the sound of a little bell fell on our ears, a +clear proof that there were flocks hard by, and looking about carefully +to see if any were within view, we observed a young shepherd tranquilly +and unsuspiciously trimming a stick with his knife at the foot of a cork +tree. We called to him, and he, raising his head, sprang nimbly to his +feet, for, as we afterwards learned, the first who presented themselves +to his sight were the renegade and Zoraida, and seeing them in Moorish +dress he imagined that all the Moors of Barbary were upon him; and +plunging with marvellous swiftness into the thicket in front of him, he +began to raise a prodigious outcry, exclaiming, "The Moors--the Moors +have landed! To arms, to arms!" We were all thrown into perplexity by +these cries, not knowing what to do; but reflecting that the shouts of +the shepherd would raise the country and that the mounted coast-guard +would come at once to see what was the matter, we agreed that the +renegade must strip off his Turkish garments and put on a captive's +jacket or coat which one of our party gave him at once, though he himself +was reduced to his shirt; and so commending ourselves to God, we followed +the same road which we saw the shepherd take, expecting every moment that +the coast-guard would be down upon us. Nor did our expectation deceive +us, for two hours had not passed when, coming out of the brushwood into +the open ground, we perceived some fifty mounted men swiftly approaching +us at a hand-gallop. As soon as we saw them we stood still, waiting for +them; but as they came close and, instead of the Moors they were in quest +of, saw a set of poor Christians, they were taken aback, and one of them +asked if it could be we who were the cause of the shepherd having raised +the call to arms. I said "Yes," and as I was about to explain to him what +had occurred, and whence we came and who we were, one of the Christians +of our party recognised the horseman who had put the question to us, and +before I could say anything more he exclaimed: + +"Thanks be to God, sirs, for bringing us to such good quarters; for, if I +do not deceive myself, the ground we stand on is that of Velez Malaga +unless, indeed, all my years of captivity have made me unable to +recollect that you, senor, who ask who we are, are Pedro de Bustamante, +my uncle." + +The Christian captive had hardly uttered these words, when the horseman +threw himself off his horse, and ran to embrace the young man, crying: + +"Nephew of my soul and life! I recognise thee now; and long have I +mourned thee as dead, I, and my sister, thy mother, and all thy kin that +are still alive, and whom God has been pleased to preserve that they may +enjoy the happiness of seeing thee. We knew long since that thou wert in +Algiers, and from the appearance of thy garments and those of all this +company, I conclude that ye have had a miraculous restoration to +liberty." + +"It is true," replied the young man, "and by-and-by we will tell you +all." + +As soon as the horsemen understood that we were Christian captives, they +dismounted from their horses, and each offered his to carry us to the +city of Velez Malaga, which was a league and a half distant. Some of them +went to bring the boat to the city, we having told them where we had left +it; others took us up behind them, and Zoraida was placed on the horse of +the young man's uncle. The whole town came out to meet us, for they had +by this time heard of our arrival from one who had gone on in advance. +They were not astonished to see liberated captives or captive Moors, for +people on that coast are well used to see both one and the other; but +they were astonished at the beauty of Zoraida, which was just then +heightened, as well by the exertion of travelling as by joy at finding +herself on Christian soil, and relieved of all fear of being lost; for +this had brought such a glow upon her face, that unless my affection for +her were deceiving me, I would venture to say that there was not a more +beautiful creature in the world--at least, that I had ever seen. We went +straight to the church to return thanks to God for the mercies we had +received, and when Zoraida entered it she said there were faces there +like Lela Marien's. We told her they were her images; and as well as he +could the renegade explained to her what they meant, that she might adore +them as if each of them were the very same Lela Marien that had spoken to +her; and she, having great intelligence and a quick and clear instinct, +understood at once all he said to her about them. Thence they took us +away and distributed us all in different houses in the town; but as for +the renegade, Zoraida, and myself, the Christian who came with us brought +us to the house of his parents, who had a fair share of the gifts of +fortune, and treated us with as much kindness as they did their own son. + +We remained six days in Velez, at the end of which the renegade, having +informed himself of all that was requisite for him to do, set out for the +city of Granada to restore himself to the sacred bosom of the Church +through the medium of the Holy Inquisition. The other released captives +took their departures, each the way that seemed best to him, and Zoraida +and I were left alone, with nothing more than the crowns which the +courtesy of the Frenchman had bestowed upon Zoraida, out of which I +bought the beast on which she rides; and, I for the present attending her +as her father and squire and not as her husband, we are now going to +ascertain if my father is living, or if any of my brothers has had better +fortune than mine has been; though, as Heaven has made me the companion +of Zoraida, I think no other lot could be assigned to me, however happy, +that I would rather have. The patience with which she endures the +hardships that poverty brings with it, and the eagerness she shows to +become a Christian, are such that they fill me with admiration, and bind +me to serve her all my life; though the happiness I feel in seeing myself +hers, and her mine, is disturbed and marred by not knowing whether I +shall find any corner to shelter her in my own country, or whether time +and death may not have made such changes in the fortunes and lives of my +father and brothers, that I shall hardly find anyone who knows me, if +they are not alive. + +I have no more of my story to tell you, gentlemen; whether it be an +interesting or a curious one let your better judgments decide; all I can +say is I would gladly have told it to you more briefly; although my fear +of wearying you has made me leave out more than one circumstance. + +Chapter XLII. - +Which treats of what further took place in the inn, and of several other +things worth knowing + +With these words the captive held his peace, and Don Fernando said to +him, "In truth, captain, the manner in which you have related this +remarkable adventure has been such as befitted the novelty and +strangeness of the matter. The whole story is curious and uncommon, and +abounds with incidents that fill the hearers with wonder and +astonishment; and so great is the pleasure we have found in listening to +it that we should be glad if it were to begin again, even though +to-morrow were to find us still occupied with the same tale." And while +he said this Cardenio and the rest of them offered to be of service to +him in any way that lay in their power, and in words and language so +kindly and sincere that the captain was much gratified by their +good-will. In particular Don Fernando offered, if he would go back with +him, to get his brother the marquis to become godfather at the baptism of +Zoraida, and on his own part to provide him with the means of making his +appearance in his own country with the credit and comfort he was entitled +to. For all this the captive returned thanks very courteously, although +he would not accept any of their generous offers. + +By this time night closed in, and as it did, there came up to the inn a +coach attended by some men on horseback, who demanded accommodation; to +which the landlady replied that there was not a hand's breadth of the +whole inn unoccupied. + +"Still, for all that," said one of those who had entered on horseback, +"room must be found for his lordship the Judge here." + +At this name the landlady was taken aback, and said, "Senor, the fact is +I have no beds; but if his lordship the Judge carries one with him, as no +doubt he does, let him come in and welcome; for my husband and I will +give up our room to accommodate his worship." + +"Very good, so be it," said the squire; but in the meantime a man had got +out of the coach whose dress indicated at a glance the office and post he +held, for the long robe with ruffled sleeves that he wore showed that he +was, as his servant said, a Judge of appeal. He led by the hand a young +girl in a travelling dress, apparently about sixteen years of age, and of +such a high-bred air, so beautiful and so graceful, that all were filled +with admiration when she made her appearance, and but for having seen +Dorothea, Luscinda, and Zoraida, who were there in the inn, they would +have fancied that a beauty like that of this maiden's would have been +hard to find. Don Quixote was present at the entrance of the Judge with +the young lady, and as soon as he saw him he said, "Your worship may with +confidence enter and take your ease in this castle; for though the +accommodation be scanty and poor, there are no quarters so cramped or +inconvenient that they cannot make room for arms and letters; above all +if arms and letters have beauty for a guide and leader, as letters +represented by your worship have in this fair maiden, to whom not only +ought castles to throw themselves open and yield themselves up, but rocks +should rend themselves asunder and mountains divide and bow themselves +down to give her a reception. Enter, your worship, I say, into this +paradise, for here you will find stars and suns to accompany the heaven +your worship brings with you, here you will find arms in their supreme +excellence, and beauty in its highest perfection." + +The Judge was struck with amazement at the language of Don Quixote, whom +he scrutinized very carefully, no less astonished by his figure than by +his talk; and before he could find words to answer him he had a fresh +surprise, when he saw opposite to him Luscinda, Dorothea, and Zoraida, +who, having heard of the new guests and of the beauty of the young lady, +had come to see her and welcome her; Don Fernando, Cardenio, and the +curate, however, greeted him in a more intelligible and polished style. +In short, the Judge made his entrance in a state of bewilderment, as well +with what he saw as what he heard, and the fair ladies of the inn gave +the fair damsel a cordial welcome. On the whole he could perceive that +all who were there were people of quality; but with the figure, +countenance, and bearing of Don Quixote he was at his wits' end; and all +civilities having been exchanged, and the accommodation of the inn +inquired into, it was settled, as it had been before settled, that all +the women should retire to the garret that has been already mentioned, +and that the men should remain outside as if to guard them; the Judge, +therefore, was very well pleased to allow his daughter, for such the +damsel was, to go with the ladies, which she did very willingly; and with +part of the host's narrow bed and half of what the Judge had brought with +him, they made a more comfortable arrangement for the night than they had +expected. + +The captive, whose heart had leaped within him the instant he saw the +Judge, telling him somehow that this was his brother, asked one of the +servants who accompanied him what his name was, and whether he knew from +what part of the country he came. The servant replied that he was called +the Licentiate Juan Perez de Viedma, and that he had heard it said he +came from a village in the mountains of Leon. From this statement, and +what he himself had seen, he felt convinced that this was his brother who +had adopted letters by his father's advice; and excited and rejoiced, he +called Don Fernando and Cardenio and the curate aside, and told them how +the matter stood, assuring them that the judge was his brother. The +servant had further informed him that he was now going to the Indies with +the appointment of Judge of the Supreme Court of Mexico; and he had +learned, likewise, that the young lady was his daughter, whose mother had +died in giving birth to her, and that he was very rich in consequence of +the dowry left to him with the daughter. He asked their advice as to what +means he should adopt to make himself known, or to ascertain beforehand +whether, when he had made himself known, his brother, seeing him so poor, +would be ashamed of him, or would receive him with a warm heart. + +"Leave it to me to find out that," said the curate; "though there is no +reason for supposing, senor captain, that you will not be kindly +received, because the worth and wisdom that your brother's bearing shows +him to possess do not make it likely that he will prove haughty or +insensible, or that he will not know how to estimate the accidents of +fortune at their proper value." + +"Still," said the captain, "I would not make myself known abruptly, but +in some indirect way." + +"I have told you already," said the curate, "that I will manage it in a +way to satisfy us all." + +By this time supper was ready, and they all took their seats at the +table, except the captive, and the ladies, who supped by themselves in +their own room. In the middle of supper the curate said: + +"I had a comrade of your worship's name, Senor Judge, in Constantinople, +where I was a captive for several years, and that same comrade was one of +the stoutest soldiers and captains in the whole Spanish infantry; but he +had as large a share of misfortune as he had of gallantry and courage." + +"And how was the captain called, senor?" asked the Judge. + +"He was called Ruy Perez de Viedma," replied the curate, "and he was born +in a village in the mountains of Leon; and he mentioned a circumstance +connected with his father and his brothers which, had it not been told me +by so truthful a man as he was, I should have set down as one of those +fables the old women tell over the fire in winter; for he said his father +had divided his property among his three sons and had addressed words of +advice to them sounder than any of Cato's. But I can say this much, that +the choice he made of going to the wars was attended with such success, +that by his gallant conduct and courage, and without any help save his +own merit, he rose in a few years to be captain of infantry, and to see +himself on the high-road and in position to be given the command of a +corps before long; but Fortune was against him, for where he might have +expected her favour he lost it, and with it his liberty, on that glorious +day when so many recovered theirs, at the battle of Lepanto. I lost mine +at the Goletta, and after a variety of adventures we found ourselves +comrades at Constantinople. Thence he went to Algiers, where he met with +one of the most extraordinary adventures that ever befell anyone in the +world." + +Here the curate went on to relate briefly his brother's adventure with +Zoraida; to all which the Judge gave such an attentive hearing that he +never before had been so much of a hearer. The curate, however, only went +so far as to describe how the Frenchmen plundered those who were in the +boat, and the poverty and distress in which his comrade and the fair Moor +were left, of whom he said he had not been able to learn what became of +them, or whether they had reached Spain, or been carried to France by the +Frenchmen. + +The captain, standing a little to one side, was listening to all the +curate said, and watching every movement of his brother, who, as soon as +he perceived the curate had made an end of his story, gave a deep sigh +and said with his eyes full of tears, "Oh, senor, if you only knew what +news you have given me and how it comes home to me, making me show how I +feel it with these tears that spring from my eyes in spite of all my +worldly wisdom and self-restraint! That brave captain that you speak of +is my eldest brother, who, being of a bolder and loftier mind than my +other brother or myself, chose the honourable and worthy calling of arms, +which was one of the three careers our father proposed to us, as your +comrade mentioned in that fable you thought he was telling you. I +followed that of letters, in which God and my own exertions have raised +me to the position in which you see me. My second brother is in Peru, so +wealthy that with what he has sent to my father and to me he has fully +repaid the portion he took with him, and has even furnished my father's +hands with the means of gratifying his natural generosity, while I too +have been enabled to pursue my studies in a more becoming and creditable +fashion, and so to attain my present standing. My father is still alive, +though dying with anxiety to hear of his eldest son, and he prays God +unceasingly that death may not close his eyes until he has looked upon +those of his son; but with regard to him what surprises me is, that +having so much common sense as he had, he should have neglected to give +any intelligence about himself, either in his troubles and sufferings, or +in his prosperity, for if his father or any of us had known of his +condition he need not have waited for that miracle of the reed to obtain +his ransom; but what now disquiets me is the uncertainty whether those +Frenchmen may have restored him to liberty, or murdered him to hide the +robbery. All this will make me continue my journey, not with the +satisfaction in which I began it, but in the deepest melancholy and +sadness. Oh dear brother! that I only knew where thou art now, and I +would hasten to seek thee out and deliver thee from thy sufferings, +though it were to cost me suffering myself! Oh that I could bring news to +our old father that thou art alive, even wert thou the deepest dungeon of +Barbary; for his wealth and my brother's and mine would rescue thee +thence! Oh beautiful and generous Zoraida, that I could repay thy good +goodness to a brother! That I could be present at the new birth of thy +soul, and at thy bridal that would give us all such happiness!" + +All this and more the Judge uttered with such deep emotion at the news he +had received of his brother that all who heard him shared in it, showing +their sympathy with his sorrow. The curate, seeing, then, how well he had +succeeded in carrying out his purpose and the captain's wishes, had no +desire to keep them unhappy any longer, so he rose from the table and +going into the room where Zoraida was he took her by the hand, Luscinda, +Dorothea, and the Judge's daughter following her. The captain was waiting +to see what the curate would do, when the latter, taking him with the +other hand, advanced with both of them to where the Judge and the other +gentlemen were and said, "Let your tears cease to flow, Senor Judge, and +the wish of your heart be gratified as fully as you could desire, for you +have before you your worthy brother and your good sister-in-law. He whom +you see here is the Captain Viedma, and this is the fair Moor who has +been so good to him. The Frenchmen I told you of have reduced them to the +state of poverty you see that you may show the generosity of your kind +heart." + +The captain ran to embrace his brother, who placed both hands on his +breast so as to have a good look at him, holding him a little way off but +as soon as he had fully recognised him he clasped him in his arms so +closely, shedding such tears of heartfelt joy, that most of those present +could not but join in them. The words the brothers exchanged, the emotion +they showed can scarcely be imagined, I fancy, much less put down in +writing. They told each other in a few words the events of their lives; +they showed the true affection of brothers in all its strength; then the +judge embraced Zoraida, putting all he possessed at her disposal; then he +made his daughter embrace her, and the fair Christian and the lovely Moor +drew fresh tears from every eye. And there was Don Quixote observing all +these strange proceedings attentively without uttering a word, and +attributing the whole to chimeras of knight-errantry. Then they agreed +that the captain and Zoraida should return with his brother to Seville, +and send news to his father of his having been delivered and found, so as +to enable him to come and be present at the marriage and baptism of +Zoraida, for it was impossible for the Judge to put off his journey, as +he was informed that in a month from that time the fleet was to sail from +Seville for New Spain, and to miss the passage would have been a great +inconvenience to him. In short, everybody was well pleased and glad at +the captive's good fortune; and as now almost two-thirds of the night +were past, they resolved to retire to rest for the remainder of it. Don +Quixote offered to mount guard over the castle lest they should be +attacked by some giant or other malevolent scoundrel, covetous of the +great treasure of beauty the castle contained. Those who understood him +returned him thanks for this service, and they gave the Judge an account +of his extraordinary humour, with which he was not a little amused. +Sancho Panza alone was fuming at the lateness of the hour for retiring to +rest; and he of all was the one that made himself most comfortable, as he +stretched himself on the trappings of his ass, which, as will be told +farther on, cost him so dear. + +The ladies, then, having retired to their chamber, and the others having +disposed themselves with as little discomfort as they could, Don Quixote +sallied out of the inn to act as sentinel of the castle as he had +promised. It happened, however, that a little before the approach of dawn +a voice so musical and sweet reached the ears of the ladies that it +forced them all to listen attentively, but especially Dorothea, who had +been awake, and by whose side Dona Clara de Viedma, for so the Judge's +daughter was called, lay sleeping. No one could imagine who it was that +sang so sweetly, and the voice was unaccompanied by any instrument. At +one moment it seemed to them as if the singer were in the courtyard, at +another in the stable; and as they were all attention, wondering, +Cardenio came to the door and said, "Listen, whoever is not asleep, and +you will hear a muleteer's voice that enchants as it chants." + +"We are listening to it already, senor," said Dorothea; on which Cardenio +went away; and Dorothea, giving all her attention to it, made out the +words of the song to be these: + +Chapter XLIII. - +Wherein is related the pleasant story of the muleteer, together with +other strange things that came to pass in the inn + +poem{ + +Ah me, Love's mariner am I + On Love's deep ocean sailing; +I know not where the haven lies, + I dare not hope to gain it. + +One solitary distant star + Is all I have to guide me, +A brighter orb than those of old + That Palinurus lighted. + +And vaguely drifting am I borne, + I know not where it leads me; +I fix my gaze on it alone, + Of all beside it heedless. + +But over-cautious prudery, + And coyness cold and cruel, +When most I need it, these, like clouds, + Its longed-for light refuse me. + +Bright star, goal of my yearning eyes + As thou above me beamest, +When thou shalt hide thee from my sight + I'll know that death is near me. + +}poem + +The singer had got so far when it struck Dorothea that it was not fair to +let Clara miss hearing such a sweet voice, so, shaking her from side to +side, she woke her, saying: + +"Forgive me, child, for waking thee, but I do so that thou mayest have +the pleasure of hearing the best voice thou hast ever heard, perhaps, in +all thy life." + +Clara awoke quite drowsy, and not understanding at the moment what +Dorothea said, asked her what it was; she repeated what she had said, and +Clara became attentive at once; but she had hardly heard two lines, as +the singer continued, when a strange trembling seized her, as if she were +suffering from a severe attack of quartan ague, and throwing her arms +round Dorothea she said: + +"Ah, dear lady of my soul and life! why did you wake me? The greatest +kindness fortune could do me now would be to close my eyes and ears so as +neither to see or hear that unhappy musician." + +"What art thou talking about, child?" said Dorothea. "Why, they say this +singer is a muleteer!" + +"Nay, he is the lord of many places," replied Clara, "and that one in my +heart which he holds so firmly shall never be taken from him, unless he +be willing to surrender it." + +Dorothea was amazed at the ardent language of the girl, for it seemed to +be far beyond such experience of life as her tender years gave any +promise of, so she said to her: + +"You speak in such a way that I cannot understand you, Senora Clara; +explain yourself more clearly, and tell me what is this you are saying +about hearts and places and this musician whose voice has so moved you? +But do not tell me anything now; I do not want to lose the pleasure I get +from listening to the singer by giving my attention to your transports, +for I perceive he is beginning to sing a new strain and a new air." + +"Let him, in Heaven's name," returned Clara; and not to hear him she +stopped both ears with her hands, at which Dorothea was again surprised; +but turning her attention to the song she found that it ran in this +fashion: + +poem{ + + Sweet Hope, my stay, +That onward to the goal of thy intent + Dost make thy way, +Heedless of hindrance or impediment, + Have thou no fear +If at each step thou findest death is near. + + No victory, +No joy of triumph doth the faint heart know; + Unblest is he +That a bold front to Fortune dares not show, + But soul and sense +In bondage yieldeth up to indolence. + + If Love his wares +Do dearly sell, his right must be contest; + What gold compares +With that whereon his stamp he hath imprest? + And all men know +What costeth little that we rate but low. + + Love resolute +Knows not the word "impossibility;" + And though my suit +Beset by endless obstacles I see, + Yet no despair +Shall hold me bound to earth while heaven is there. + +}poem + +Here the voice ceased and Clara's sobs began afresh, all which excited +Dorothea's curiosity to know what could be the cause of singing so sweet +and weeping so bitter, so she again asked her what it was she was going +to say before. On this Clara, afraid that Luscinda might overhear her, +winding her arms tightly round Dorothea put her mouth so close to her ear +that she could speak without fear of being heard by anyone else, and +said: + +"This singer, dear senora, is the son of a gentleman of Aragon, lord of +two villages, who lives opposite my father's house at Madrid; and though +my father had curtains to the windows of his house in winter, and +lattice-work in summer, in some way--I know not how--this gentleman, who +was pursuing his studies, saw me, whether in church or elsewhere, I +cannot tell, and, in fact, fell in love with me, and gave me to know it +from the windows of his house, with so many signs and tears that I was +forced to believe him, and even to love him, without knowing what it was +he wanted of me. One of the signs he used to make me was to link one hand +in the other, to show me he wished to marry me; and though I should have +been glad if that could be, being alone and motherless I knew not whom to +open my mind to, and so I left it as it was, showing him no favour, +except when my father, and his too, were from home, to raise the curtain +or the lattice a little and let him see me plainly, at which he would +show such delight that he seemed as if he were going mad. Meanwhile the +time for my father's departure arrived, which he became aware of, but not +from me, for I had never been able to tell him of it. He fell sick, of +grief I believe, and so the day we were going away I could not see him to +take farewell of him, were it only with the eyes. But after we had been +two days on the road, on entering the posada of a village a day's journey +from this, I saw him at the inn door in the dress of a muleteer, and so +well disguised, that if I did not carry his image graven on my heart it +would have been impossible for me to recognise him. But I knew him, and I +was surprised, and glad; he watched me, unsuspected by my father, from +whom he always hides himself when he crosses my path on the road, or in +the posadas where we halt; and, as I know what he is, and reflect that +for love of me he makes this journey on foot in all this hardship, I am +ready to die of sorrow; and where he sets foot there I set my eyes. I +know not with what object he has come; or how he could have got away from +his father, who loves him beyond measure, having no other heir, and +because he deserves it, as you will perceive when you see him. And +moreover, I can tell you, all that he sings is out of his own head; for I +have heard them say he is a great scholar and poet; and what is more, +every time I see him or hear him sing I tremble all over, and am +terrified lest my father should recognise him and come to know of our +loves. I have never spoken a word to him in my life; and for all that I +love him so that I could not live without him. This, dear senora, is all +I have to tell you about the musician whose voice has delighted you so +much; and from it alone you might easily perceive he is no muleteer, but +a lord of hearts and towns, as I told you already." + +"Say no more, Dona Clara," said Dorothea at this, at the same time +kissing her a thousand times over, "say no more, I tell you, but wait +till day comes; when I trust in God to arrange this affair of yours so +that it may have the happy ending such an innocent beginning deserves." + +"Ah, senora," said Dona Clara, "what end can be hoped for when his father +is of such lofty position, and so wealthy, that he would think I was not +fit to be even a servant to his son, much less wife? And as to marrying +without the knowledge of my father, I would not do it for all the world. +I would not ask anything more than that this youth should go back and +leave me; perhaps with not seeing him, and the long distance we shall +have to travel, the pain I suffer now may become easier; though I daresay +the remedy I propose will do me very little good. I don't know how the +devil this has come about, or how this love I have for him got in; I such +a young girl, and he such a mere boy; for I verily believe we are both of +an age, and I am not sixteen yet; for I will be sixteen Michaelmas Day, +next, my father says." + +Dorothea could not help laughing to hear how like a child Dona Clara +spoke. "Let us go to sleep now, senora," said she, "for the little of the +night that I fancy is left to us: God will soon send us daylight, and we +will set all to rights, or it will go hard with me." + +With this they fell asleep, and deep silence reigned all through the inn. +The only persons not asleep were the landlady's daughter and her servant +Maritornes, who, knowing the weak point of Don Quixote's humour, and that +he was outside the inn mounting guard in armour and on horseback, +resolved, the pair of them, to play some trick upon him, or at any rate +to amuse themselves for a while by listening to his nonsense. As it so +happened there was not a window in the whole inn that looked outwards +except a hole in the wall of a straw-loft through which they used to +throw out the straw. At this hole the two demi-damsels posted themselves, +and observed Don Quixote on his horse, leaning on his pike and from time +to time sending forth such deep and doleful sighs, that he seemed to +pluck up his soul by the roots with each of them; and they could hear +him, too, saying in a soft, tender, loving tone, "Oh my lady Dulcinea del +Toboso, perfection of all beauty, summit and crown of discretion, +treasure house of grace, depositary of virtue, and finally, ideal of all +that is good, honourable, and delectable in this world! What is thy grace +doing now? Art thou, perchance, mindful of thy enslaved knight who of his +own free will hath exposed himself to so great perils, and all to serve +thee? Give me tidings of her, oh luminary of the three faces! Perhaps at +this moment, envious of hers, thou art regarding her, either as she paces +to and fro some gallery of her sumptuous palaces, or leans over some +balcony, meditating how, whilst preserving her purity and greatness, she +may mitigate the tortures this wretched heart of mine endures for her +sake, what glory should recompense my sufferings, what repose my toil, +and lastly what death my life, and what reward my services? And thou, oh +sun, that art now doubtless harnessing thy steeds in haste to rise +betimes and come forth to see my lady; when thou seest her I entreat of +thee to salute her on my behalf: but have a care, when thou shalt see her +and salute her, that thou kiss not her face; for I shall be more jealous +of thee than thou wert of that light-footed ingrate that made thee sweat +and run so on the plains of Thessaly, or on the banks of the Peneus (for +I do not exactly recollect where it was thou didst run on that occasion) +in thy jealousy and love." + +Don Quixote had got so far in his pathetic speech when the landlady's +daughter began to signal to him, saying, "Senor, come over here, please." + +At these signals and voice Don Quixote turned his head and saw by the +light of the moon, which then was in its full splendour, that some one +was calling to him from the hole in the wall, which seemed to him to be a +window, and what is more, with a gilt grating, as rich castles, such as +he believed the inn to be, ought to have; and it immediately suggested +itself to his imagination that, as on the former occasion, the fair +damsel, the daughter of the lady of the castle, overcome by love for him, +was once more endeavouring to win his affections; and with this idea, not +to show himself discourteous, or ungrateful, he turned Rocinante's head +and approached the hole, and as he perceived the two wenches he said: + +"I pity you, beauteous lady, that you should have directed your thoughts +of love to a quarter from whence it is impossible that such a return can +be made to you as is due to your great merit and gentle birth, for which +you must not blame this unhappy knight-errant whom love renders incapable +of submission to any other than her whom, the first moment his eyes +beheld her, he made absolute mistress of his soul. Forgive me, noble +lady, and retire to your apartment, and do not, by any further +declaration of your passion, compel me to show myself more ungrateful; +and if, of the love you bear me, you should find that there is anything +else in my power wherein I can gratify you, provided it be not love +itself, demand it of me; for I swear to you by that sweet absent enemy of +mine to grant it this instant, though it be that you require of me a lock +of Medusa's hair, which was all snakes, or even the very beams of the sun +shut up in a vial." + +"My mistress wants nothing of that sort, sir knight," said Maritornes at +this. + +"What then, discreet dame, is it that your mistress wants?" replied Don +Quixote. + +"Only one of your fair hands," said Maritornes, "to enable her to vent +over it the great passion passion which has brought her to this loophole, +so much to the risk of her honour; for if the lord her father had heard +her, the least slice he would cut off her would be her ear." + +"I should like to see that tried," said Don Quixote; "but he had better +beware of that, if he does not want to meet the most disastrous end that +ever father in the world met for having laid hands on the tender limbs of +a love-stricken daughter." + +Maritornes felt sure that Don Quixote would present the hand she had +asked, and making up her mind what to do, she got down from the hole and +went into the stable, where she took the halter of Sancho Panza's ass, +and in all haste returned to the hole, just as Don Quixote had planted +himself standing on Rocinante's saddle in order to reach the grated +window where he supposed the lovelorn damsel to be; and giving her his +hand, he said, "Lady, take this hand, or rather this scourge of the +evil-doers of the earth; take, I say, this hand which no other hand of +woman has ever touched, not even hers who has complete possession of my +entire body. I present it to you, not that you may kiss it, but that you +may observe the contexture of the sinews, the close network of the +muscles, the breadth and capacity of the veins, whence you may infer what +must be the strength of the arm that has such a hand." + +"That we shall see presently," said Maritornes, and making a running knot +on the halter, she passed it over his wrist and coming down from the hole +tied the other end very firmly to the bolt of the door of the straw-loft. + +Don Quixote, feeling the roughness of the rope on his wrist, exclaimed, +"Your grace seems to be grating rather than caressing my hand; treat it +not so harshly, for it is not to blame for the offence my resolution has +given you, nor is it just to wreak all your vengeance on so small a part; +remember that one who loves so well should not revenge herself so +cruelly." + +But there was nobody now to listen to these words of Don Quixote's, for +as soon as Maritornes had tied him she and the other made off, ready to +die with laughing, leaving him fastened in such a way that it was +impossible for him to release himself. + +He was, as has been said, standing on Rocinante, with his arm passed +through the hole and his wrist tied to the bolt of the door, and in +mighty fear and dread of being left hanging by the arm if Rocinante were +to stir one side or the other; so he did not dare to make the least +movement, although from the patience and imperturbable disposition of +Rocinante, he had good reason to expect that he would stand without +budging for a whole century. Finding himself fast, then, and that the +ladies had retired, he began to fancy that all this was done by +enchantment, as on the former occasion when in that same castle that +enchanted Moor of a carrier had belaboured him; and he cursed in his +heart his own want of sense and judgment in venturing to enter the castle +again, after having come off so badly the first time; it being a settled +point with knights-errant that when they have tried an adventure, and +have not succeeded in it, it is a sign that it is not reserved for them +but for others, and that therefore they need not try it again. +Nevertheless he pulled his arm to see if he could release himself, but it +had been made so fast that all his efforts were in vain. It is true he +pulled it gently lest Rocinante should move, but try as he might to seat +himself in the saddle, he had nothing for it but to stand upright or pull +his hand off. Then it was he wished for the sword of Amadis, against +which no enchantment whatever had any power; then he cursed his ill +fortune; then he magnified the loss the world would sustain by his +absence while he remained there enchanted, for that he believed he was +beyond all doubt; then he once more took to thinking of his beloved +Dulcinea del Toboso; then he called to his worthy squire Sancho Panza, +who, buried in sleep and stretched upon the pack-saddle of his ass, was +oblivious, at that moment, of the mother that bore him; then he called +upon the sages Lirgandeo and Alquife to come to his aid; then he invoked +his good friend Urganda to succour him; and then, at last, morning found +him in such a state of desperation and perplexity that he was bellowing +like a bull, for he had no hope that day would bring any relief to his +suffering, which he believed would last for ever, inasmuch as he was +enchanted; and of this he was convinced by seeing that Rocinante never +stirred, much or little, and he felt persuaded that he and his horse were +to remain in this state, without eating or drinking or sleeping, until +the malign influence of the stars was overpast, or until some other more +sage enchanter should disenchant him. + +But he was very much deceived in this conclusion, for daylight had hardly +begun to appear when there came up to the inn four men on horseback, well +equipped and accoutred, with firelocks across their saddle-bows. They +called out and knocked loudly at the gate of the inn, which was still +shut; on seeing which, Don Quixote, even there where he was, did not +forget to act as sentinel, and said in a loud and imperious tone, +"Knights, or squires, or whatever ye be, ye have no right to knock at the +gates of this castle; for it is plain enough that they who are within are +either asleep, or else are not in the habit of throwing open the fortress +until the sun's rays are spread over the whole surface of the earth. +Withdraw to a distance, and wait till it is broad daylight, and then we +shall see whether it will be proper or not to open to you." + +"What the devil fortress or castle is this," said one, "to make us stand +on such ceremony? If you are the innkeeper bid them open to us; we are +travellers who only want to feed our horses and go on, for we are in +haste." + +"Do you think, gentlemen, that I look like an innkeeper?" said Don +Quixote. + +"I don't know what you look like," replied the other; "but I know that +you are talking nonsense when you call this inn a castle." + +"A castle it is," returned Don Quixote, "nay, more, one of the best in +this whole province, and it has within it people who have had the sceptre +in the hand and the crown on the head." + +"It would be better if it were the other way," said the traveller, "the +sceptre on the head and the crown in the hand; but if so, may be there is +within some company of players, with whom it is a common thing to have +those crowns and sceptres you speak of; for in such a small inn as this, +and where such silence is kept, I do not believe any people entitled to +crowns and sceptres can have taken up their quarters." + +"You know but little of the world," returned Don Quixote, "since you are +ignorant of what commonly occurs in knight-errantry." + +But the comrades of the spokesman, growing weary of the dialogue with Don +Quixote, renewed their knocks with great vehemence, so much so that the +host, and not only he but everybody in the inn, awoke, and he got up to +ask who knocked. It happened at this moment that one of the horses of the +four who were seeking admittance went to smell Rocinante, who melancholy, +dejected, and with drooping ears stood motionless, supporting his sorely +stretched master; and as he was, after all, flesh, though he looked as if +he were made of wood, he could not help giving way and in return smelling +the one who had come to offer him attentions. But he had hardly moved at +all when Don Quixote lost his footing; and slipping off the saddle, he +would have come to the ground, but for being suspended by the arm, which +caused him such agony that he believed either his wrist would be cut +through or his arm torn off; and he hung so near the ground that he could +just touch it with his feet, which was all the worse for him; for, +finding how little was wanted to enable him to plant his feet firmly, he +struggled and stretched himself as much as he could to gain a footing; +just like those undergoing the torture of the strappado, when they are +fixed at "touch and no touch," who aggravate their own sufferings by +their violent efforts to stretch themselves, deceived by the hope which +makes them fancy that with a very little more they will reach the ground. + +Chapter XLIV. - +In which are continued the unheard-of adventures of the inn + +So loud, in fact, were the shouts of Don Quixote, that the landlord +opening the gate of the inn in all haste, came out in dismay, and ran to +see who was uttering such cries, and those who were outside joined him. +Maritornes, who had been by this time roused up by the same outcry, +suspecting what it was, ran to the loft and, without anyone seeing her, +untied the halter by which Don Quixote was suspended, and down he came to +the ground in the sight of the landlord and the travellers, who +approaching asked him what was the matter with him that he shouted so. He +without replying a word took the rope off his wrist, and rising to his +feet leaped upon Rocinante, braced his buckler on his arm, put his lance +in rest, and making a considerable circuit of the plain came back at a +half-gallop exclaiming: + +"Whoever shall say that I have been enchanted with just cause, provided +my lady the Princess Micomicona grants me permission to do so, I give him +the lie, challenge him and defy him to single combat." + +The newly arrived travellers were amazed at the words of Don Quixote; but +the landlord removed their surprise by telling them who he was, and not +to mind him as he was out of his senses. They then asked the landlord if +by any chance a youth of about fifteen years of age had come to that inn, +one dressed like a muleteer, and of such and such an appearance, +describing that of Dona Clara's lover. The landlord replied that there +were so many people in the inn he had not noticed the person they were +inquiring for; but one of them observing the coach in which the Judge had +come, said, "He is here no doubt, for this is the coach he is following: +let one of us stay at the gate, and the rest go in to look for him; or +indeed it would be as well if one of us went round the inn, lest he +should escape over the wall of the yard." "So be it," said another; and +while two of them went in, one remained at the gate and the other made +the circuit of the inn; observing all which, the landlord was unable to +conjecture for what reason they were taking all these precautions, though +he understood they were looking for the youth whose description they had +given him. + +It was by this time broad daylight; and for that reason, as well as in +consequence of the noise Don Quixote had made, everybody was awake and +up, but particularly Dona Clara and Dorothea; for they had been able to +sleep but badly that night, the one from agitation at having her lover so +near her, the other from curiosity to see him. Don Quixote, when he saw +that not one of the four travellers took any notice of him or replied to +his challenge, was furious and ready to die with indignation and wrath; +and if he could have found in the ordinances of chivalry that it was +lawful for a knight-errant to undertake or engage in another enterprise, +when he had plighted his word and faith not to involve himself in any +until he had made an end of the one to which he was pledged, he would +have attacked the whole of them, and would have made them return an +answer in spite of themselves. But considering that it would not become +him, nor be right, to begin any new emprise until he had established +Micomicona in her kingdom, he was constrained to hold his peace and wait +quietly to see what would be the upshot of the proceedings of those same +travellers; one of whom found the youth they were seeking lying asleep by +the side of a muleteer, without a thought of anyone coming in search of +him, much less finding him. + +The man laid hold of him by the arm, saying, "It becomes you well indeed, +Senor Don Luis, to be in the dress you wear, and well the bed in which I +find you agrees with the luxury in which your mother reared you." + +The youth rubbed his sleepy eyes and stared for a while at him who held +him, but presently recognised him as one of his father's servants, at +which he was so taken aback that for some time he could not find or utter +a word; while the servant went on to say, "There is nothing for it now, +Senor Don Luis, but to submit quietly and return home, unless it is your +wish that my lord, your father, should take his departure for the other +world, for nothing else can be the consequence of the grief he is in at +your absence." + +"But how did my father know that I had gone this road and in this dress?" +said Don Luis. + +"It was a student to whom you confided your intentions," answered the +servant, "that disclosed them, touched with pity at the distress he saw +your father suffer on missing you; he therefore despatched four of his +servants in quest of you, and here we all are at your service, better +pleased than you can imagine that we shall return so soon and be able to +restore you to those eyes that so yearn for you." + +"That shall be as I please, or as heaven orders," returned Don Luis. + +"What can you please or heaven order," said the other, "except to agree +to go back? Anything else is impossible." + +All this conversation between the two was overheard by the muleteer at +whose side Don Luis lay, and rising, he went to report what had taken +place to Don Fernando, Cardenio, and the others, who had by this time +dressed themselves; and told them how the man had addressed the youth as +"Don," and what words had passed, and how he wanted him to return to his +father, which the youth was unwilling to do. With this, and what they +already knew of the rare voice that heaven had bestowed upon him, they +all felt very anxious to know more particularly who he was, and even to +help him if it was attempted to employ force against him; so they +hastened to where he was still talking and arguing with his servant. +Dorothea at this instant came out of her room, followed by Dona Clara all +in a tremor; and calling Cardenio aside, she told him in a few words the +story of the musician and Dona Clara, and he at the same time told her +what had happened, how his father's servants had come in search of him; +but in telling her so, he did not speak low enough but that Dona Clara +heard what he said, at which she was so much agitated that had not +Dorothea hastened to support her she would have fallen to the ground. +Cardenio then bade Dorothea return to her room, as he would endeavour to +make the whole matter right, and they did as he desired. All the four who +had come in quest of Don Luis had now come into the inn and surrounded +him, urging him to return and console his father at once and without a +moment's delay. He replied that he could not do so on any account until +he had concluded some business in which his life, honour, and heart were +at stake. The servants pressed him, saying that most certainly they would +not return without him, and that they would take him away whether he +liked it or not. + +"You shall not do that," replied Don Luis, "unless you take me dead; +though however you take me, it will be without life." + +By this time most of those in the inn had been attracted by the dispute, +but particularly Cardenio, Don Fernando, his companions, the Judge, the +curate, the barber, and Don Quixote; for he now considered there was no +necessity for mounting guard over the castle any longer. Cardenio being +already acquainted with the young man's story, asked the men who wanted +to take him away, what object they had in seeking to carry off this youth +against his will. + +"Our object," said one of the four, "is to save the life of his father, +who is in danger of losing it through this gentleman's disappearance." + +Upon this Don Luis exclaimed, "There is no need to make my affairs public +here; I am free, and I will return if I please; and if not, none of you +shall compel me." + +"Reason will compel your worship," said the man, "and if it has no power +over you, it has power over us, to make us do what we came for, and what +it is our duty to do." + +"Let us hear what the whole affair is about," said the Judge at this; but +the man, who knew him as a neighbour of theirs, replied, "Do you not know +this gentleman, Senor Judge? He is the son of your neighbour, who has run +away from his father's house in a dress so unbecoming his rank, as your +worship may perceive." + +The judge on this looked at him more carefully and recognised him, and +embracing him said, "What folly is this, Senor Don Luis, or what can have +been the cause that could have induced you to come here in this way, and +in this dress, which so ill becomes your condition?" + +Tears came into the eyes of the young man, and he was unable to utter a +word in reply to the Judge, who told the four servants not to be uneasy, +for all would be satisfactorily settled; and then taking Don Luis by the +hand, he drew him aside and asked the reason of his having come there. + +But while he was questioning him they heard a loud outcry at the gate of +the inn, the cause of which was that two of the guests who had passed the +night there, seeing everybody busy about finding out what it was the four +men wanted, had conceived the idea of going off without paying what they +owed; but the landlord, who minded his own affairs more than other +people's, caught them going out of the gate and demanded his reckoning, +abusing them for their dishonesty with such language that he drove them +to reply with their fists, and so they began to lay on him in such a +style that the poor man was forced to cry out, and call for help. The +landlady and her daughter could see no one more free to give aid than Don +Quixote, and to him the daughter said, "Sir knight, by the virtue God has +given you, help my poor father, for two wicked men are beating him to a +mummy." + +To which Don Quixote very deliberately and phlegmatically replied, "Fair +damsel, at the present moment your request is inopportune, for I am +debarred from involving myself in any adventure until I have brought to a +happy conclusion one to which my word has pledged me; but that which I +can do for you is what I will now mention: run and tell your father to +stand his ground as well as he can in this battle, and on no account to +allow himself to be vanquished, while I go and request permission of the +Princess Micomicona to enable me to succour him in his distress; and if +she grants it, rest assured I will relieve him from it." + +"Sinner that I am," exclaimed Maritornes, who stood by; "before you have +got your permission my master will be in the other world." + +"Give me leave, senora, to obtain the permission I speak of," returned +Don Quixote; "and if I get it, it will matter very little if he is in the +other world; for I will rescue him thence in spite of all the same world +can do; or at any rate I will give you such a revenge over those who +shall have sent him there that you will be more than moderately +satisfied;" and without saying anything more he went and knelt before +Dorothea, requesting her Highness in knightly and errant phrase to be +pleased to grant him permission to aid and succour the castellan of that +castle, who now stood in grievous jeopardy. The princess granted it +graciously, and he at once, bracing his buckler on his arm and drawing +his sword, hastened to the inn-gate, where the two guests were still +handling the landlord roughly; but as soon as he reached the spot he +stopped short and stood still, though Maritornes and the landlady asked +him why he hesitated to help their master and husband. + +"I hesitate," said Don Quixote, "because it is not lawful for me to draw +sword against persons of squirely condition; but call my squire Sancho to +me; for this defence and vengeance are his affair and business." + +Thus matters stood at the inn-gate, where there was a very lively +exchange of fisticuffs and punches, to the sore damage of the landlord +and to the wrath of Maritornes, the landlady, and her daughter, who were +furious when they saw the pusillanimity of Don Quixote, and the hard +treatment their master, husband and father was undergoing. But let us +leave him there; for he will surely find some one to help him, and if +not, let him suffer and hold his tongue who attempts more than his +strength allows him to do; and let us go back fifty paces to see what Don +Luis said in reply to the Judge whom we left questioning him privately as +to his reasons for coming on foot and so meanly dressed. + +To which the youth, pressing his hand in a way that showed his heart was +troubled by some great sorrow, and shedding a flood of tears, made +answer: + +"Senor, I have no more to tell you than that from the moment when, +through heaven's will and our being near neighbours, I first saw Dona +Clara, your daughter and my lady, from that instant I made her the +mistress of my will, and if yours, my true lord and father, offers no +impediment, this very day she shall become my wife. For her I left my +father's house, and for her I assumed this disguise, to follow her +whithersoever she may go, as the arrow seeks its mark or the sailor the +pole-star. She knows nothing more of my passion than what she may have +learned from having sometimes seen from a distance that my eyes were +filled with tears. You know already, senor, the wealth and noble birth of +my parents, and that I am their sole heir; if this be a sufficient +inducement for you to venture to make me completely happy, accept me at +once as your son; for if my father, influenced by other objects of his +own, should disapprove of this happiness I have sought for myself, time +has more power to alter and change things, than human will." + +With this the love-smitten youth was silent, while the Judge, after +hearing him, was astonished, perplexed, and surprised, as well at the +manner and intelligence with which Don Luis had confessed the secret of +his heart, as at the position in which he found himself, not knowing what +course to take in a matter so sudden and unexpected. All the answer, +therefore, he gave him was to bid him to make his mind easy for the +present, and arrange with his servants not to take him back that day, so +that there might be time to consider what was best for all parties. Don +Luis kissed his hands by force, nay, bathed them with his tears, in a way +that would have touched a heart of marble, not to say that of the Judge, +who, as a shrewd man, had already perceived how advantageous the marriage +would be to his daughter; though, were it possible, he would have +preferred that it should be brought about with the consent of the father +of Don Luis, who he knew looked for a title for his son. + +The guests had by this time made peace with the landlord, for, by +persuasion and Don Quixote's fair words more than by threats, they had +paid him what he demanded, and the servants of Don Luis were waiting for +the end of the conversation with the Judge and their master's decision, +when the devil, who never sleeps, contrived that the barber, from whom +Don Quixote had taken Mambrino's helmet, and Sancho Panza the trappings +of his ass in exchange for those of his own, should at this instant enter +the inn; which said barber, as he led his ass to the stable, observed +Sancho Panza engaged in repairing something or other belonging to the +pack-saddle; and the moment he saw it he knew it, and made bold to attack +Sancho, exclaiming, "Ho, sir thief, I have caught you! hand over my basin +and my pack-saddle, and all my trappings that you robbed me of." + +Sancho, finding himself so unexpectedly assailed, and hearing the abuse +poured upon him, seized the pack-saddle with one hand, and with the other +gave the barber a cuff that bathed his teeth in blood. The barber, +however, was not so ready to relinquish the prize he had made in the +pack-saddle; on the contrary, he raised such an outcry that everyone in +the inn came running to know what the noise and quarrel meant. "Here, in +the name of the king and justice!" he cried, "this thief and highwayman +wants to kill me for trying to recover my property." + +"You lie," said Sancho, "I am no highwayman; it was in fair war my master +Don Quixote won these spoils." + +Don Quixote was standing by at the time, highly pleased to see his +squire's stoutness, both offensive and defensive, and from that time +forth he reckoned him a man of mettle, and in his heart resolved to dub +him a knight on the first opportunity that presented itself, feeling sure +that the order of chivalry would be fittingly bestowed upon him. + +In the course of the altercation, among other things the barber said, +"Gentlemen, this pack-saddle is mine as surely as I owe God a death, and +I know it as well as if I had given birth to it, and here is my ass in +the stable who will not let me lie; only try it, and if it does not fit +him like a glove, call me a rascal; and what is more, the same day I was +robbed of this, they robbed me likewise of a new brass basin, never yet +handselled, that would fetch a crown any day." + +At this Don Quixote could not keep himself from answering; and +interposing between the two, and separating them, he placed the +pack-saddle on the ground, to lie there in sight until the truth was +established, and said, "Your worships may perceive clearly and plainly +the error under which this worthy squire lies when he calls a basin which +was, is, and shall be the helmet of Mambrino which I won from him in air +war, and made myself master of by legitimate and lawful possession. With +the pack-saddle I do not concern myself; but I may tell you on that head +that my squire Sancho asked my permission to strip off the caparison of +this vanquished poltroon's steed, and with it adorn his own; I allowed +him, and he took it; and as to its having been changed from a caparison +into a pack-saddle, I can give no explanation except the usual one, that +such transformations will take place in adventures of chivalry. To +confirm all which, run, Sancho my son, and fetch hither the helmet which +this good fellow calls a basin." + +"Egad, master," said Sancho, "if we have no other proof of our case than +what your worship puts forward, Mambrino's helmet is just as much a basin +as this good fellow's caparison is a pack-saddle." + +"Do as I bid thee," said Don Quixote; "it cannot be that everything in +this castle goes by enchantment." + +Sancho hastened to where the basin was, and brought it back with him, and +when Don Quixote saw it, he took hold of it and said: + +"Your worships may see with what a face this squire can assert that this +is a basin and not the helmet I told you of; and I swear by the order of +chivalry I profess, that this helmet is the identical one I took from +him, without anything added to or taken from it." + +"There is no doubt of that," said Sancho, "for from the time my master +won it until now he has only fought one battle in it, when he let loose +those unlucky men in chains; and if had not been for this basin-helmet he +would not have come off over well that time, for there was plenty of +stone-throwing in that affair." + +Chapter XLV. - +In which the doubtful question of Mambrino's helmet and the pack-saddle +is finally settled, with other adventures that occurred in truth and +earnest + +"What do you think now, gentlemen," said the barber, "of what these +gentles say, when they want to make out that this is a helmet?" + +"And whoever says the contrary," said Don Quixote, "I will let him know +he lies if he is a knight, and if he is a squire that he lies again a +thousand times." + +Our own barber, who was present at all this, and understood Don Quixote's +humour so thoroughly, took it into his head to back up his delusion and +carry on the joke for the general amusement; so addressing the other +barber he said: + +"Senor barber, or whatever you are, you must know that I belong to your +profession too, and have had a licence to practise for more than twenty +years, and I know the implements of the barber craft, every one of them, +perfectly well; and I was likewise a soldier for some time in the days of +my youth, and I know also what a helmet is, and a morion, and a headpiece +with a visor, and other things pertaining to soldiering, I meant to say +to soldiers' arms; and I say-saving better opinions and always with +submission to sounder judgments--that this piece we have now before us, +which this worthy gentleman has in his hands, not only is no barber's +basin, but is as far from being one as white is from black, and truth +from falsehood; I say, moreover, that this, although it is a helmet, is +not a complete helmet." + +"Certainly not," said Don Quixote, "for half of it is wanting, that is to +say the beaver." + +"It is quite true," said the curate, who saw the object of his friend the +barber; and Cardenio, Don Fernando and his companions agreed with him, +and even the Judge, if his thoughts had not been so full of Don Luis's +affair, would have helped to carry on the joke; but he was so taken up +with the serious matters he had on his mind that he paid little or no +attention to these facetious proceedings. + +"God bless me!" exclaimed their butt the barber at this; "is it possible +that such an honourable company can say that this is not a basin but a +helmet? Why, this is a thing that would astonish a whole university, +however wise it might be! That will do; if this basin is a helmet, why, +then the pack-saddle must be a horse's caparison, as this gentleman has +said." + +"To me it looks like a pack-saddle," said Don Quixote; "but I have +already said that with that question I do not concern myself." + +"As to whether it be pack-saddle or caparison," said the curate, "it is +only for Senor Don Quixote to say; for in these matters of chivalry all +these gentlemen and I bow to his authority." + +"By God, gentlemen," said Don Quixote, "so many strange things have +happened to me in this castle on the two occasions on which I have +sojourned in it, that I will not venture to assert anything positively in +reply to any question touching anything it contains; for it is my belief +that everything that goes on within it goes by enchantment. The first +time, an enchanted Moor that there is in it gave me sore trouble, nor did +Sancho fare well among certain followers of his; and last night I was +kept hanging by this arm for nearly two hours, without knowing how or why +I came by such a mishap. So that now, for me to come forward to give an +opinion in such a puzzling matter, would be to risk a rash decision. As +regards the assertion that this is a basin and not a helmet I have +already given an answer; but as to the question whether this is a +pack-saddle or a caparison I will not venture to give a positive opinion, +but will leave it to your worships' better judgment. Perhaps as you are +not dubbed knights like myself, the enchantments of this place have +nothing to do with you, and your faculties are unfettered, and you can +see things in this castle as they really and truly are, and not as they +appear to me." + +"There can be no question," said Don Fernando on this, "but that Senor +Don Quixote has spoken very wisely, and that with us rests the decision +of this matter; and that we may have surer ground to go on, I will take +the votes of the gentlemen in secret, and declare the result clearly and +fully." + +To those who were in the secret of Don Quixote's humour all this afforded +great amusement; but to those who knew nothing about it, it seemed the +greatest nonsense in the world, in particular to the four servants of Don +Luis, as well as to Don Luis himself, and to three other travellers who +had by chance come to the inn, and had the appearance of officers of the +Holy Brotherhood, as indeed they were; but the one who above all was at +his wits' end, was the barber basin, there before his very eyes, had been +turned into Mambrino's helmet, and whose pack-saddle he had no doubt +whatever was about to become a rich caparison for a horse. All laughed to +see Don Fernando going from one to another collecting the votes, and +whispering to them to give him their private opinion whether the treasure +over which there had been so much fighting was a pack-saddle or a +caparison; but after he had taken the votes of those who knew Don +Quixote, he said aloud, "The fact is, my good fellow, that I am tired +collecting such a number of opinions, for I find that there is not one of +whom I ask what I desire to know, who does not tell me that it is absurd +to say that this is the pack-saddle of an ass, and not the caparison of a +horse, nay, of a thoroughbred horse; so you must submit, for, in spite of +you and your ass, this is a caparison and no pack-saddle, and you have +stated and proved your case very badly." + +"May I never share heaven," said the poor barber, "if your worships are +not all mistaken; and may my soul appear before God as that appears to me +a pack-saddle and not a caparison; but, 'laws go,'-I say no more; and +indeed I am not drunk, for I am fasting, except it be from sin." + +The simple talk of the barber did not afford less amusement than the +absurdities of Don Quixote, who now observed: + +"There is no more to be done now than for each to take what belongs to +him, and to whom God has given it, may St. Peter add his blessing." + +But said one of the four servants, "Unless, indeed, this is a deliberate +joke, I cannot bring myself to believe that men so intelligent as those +present are, or seem to be, can venture to declare and assert that this +is not a basin, and that not a pack-saddle; but as I perceive that they +do assert and declare it, I can only come to the conclusion that there is +some mystery in this persistence in what is so opposed to the evidence of +experience and truth itself; for I swear by"--and here he rapped out a +round oath-"all the people in the world will not make me believe that +this is not a barber's basin and that a jackass's pack-saddle." + +"It might easily be a she-ass's," observed the curate. + +"It is all the same," said the servant; "that is not the point; but +whether it is or is not a pack-saddle, as your worships say." + +On hearing this one of the newly arrived officers of the Brotherhood, who +had been listening to the dispute and controversy, unable to restrain his +anger and impatience, exclaimed, "It is a pack-saddle as sure as my +father is my father, and whoever has said or will say anything else must +be drunk." + +"You lie like a rascally clown," returned Don Quixote; and lifting his +pike, which he had never let out of his hand, he delivered such a blow at +his head that, had not the officer dodged it, it would have stretched him +at full length. The pike was shivered in pieces against the ground, and +the rest of the officers, seeing their comrade assaulted, raised a shout, +calling for help for the Holy Brotherhood. The landlord, who was of the +fraternity, ran at once to fetch his staff of office and his sword, and +ranged himself on the side of his comrades; the servants of Don Luis +clustered round him, lest he should escape from them in the confusion; +the barber, seeing the house turned upside down, once more laid hold of +his pack-saddle and Sancho did the same; Don Quixote drew his sword and +charged the officers; Don Luis cried out to his servants to leave him +alone and go and help Don Quixote, and Cardenio and Don Fernando, who +were supporting him; the curate was shouting at the top of his voice, the +landlady was screaming, her daughter was wailing, Maritornes was weeping, +Dorothea was aghast, Luscinda terror-stricken, and Dona Clara in a faint. +The barber cudgelled Sancho, and Sancho pommelled the barber; Don Luis +gave one of his servants, who ventured to catch him by the arm to keep +him from escaping, a cuff that bathed his teeth in blood; the Judge took +his part; Don Fernando had got one of the officers down and was +belabouring him heartily; the landlord raised his voice again calling for +help for the Holy Brotherhood; so that the whole inn was nothing but +cries, shouts, shrieks, confusion, terror, dismay, mishaps, sword-cuts, +fisticuffs, cudgellings, kicks, and bloodshed; and in the midst of all +this chaos, complication, and general entanglement, Don Quixote took it +into his head that he had been plunged into the thick of the discord of +Agramante's camp; and, in a voice that shook the inn like thunder, he +cried out: + +"Hold all, let all sheathe their swords, let all be calm and attend to me +as they value their lives!" + +All paused at his mighty voice, and he went on to say, "Did I not tell +you, sirs, that this castle was enchanted, and that a legion or so of +devils dwelt in it? In proof whereof I call upon you to behold with your +own eyes how the discord of Agramante's camp has come hither, and been +transferred into the midst of us. See how they fight, there for the +sword, here for the horse, on that side for the eagle, on this for the +helmet; we are all fighting, and all at cross purposes. Come then, you, +Senor Judge, and you, senor curate; let the one represent King Agramante +and the other King Sobrino, and make peace among us; for by God Almighty +it is a sorry business that so many persons of quality as we are should +slay one another for such trifling cause." The officers, who did not +understand Don Quixote's mode of speaking, and found themselves roughly +handled by Don Fernando, Cardenio, and their companions, were not to be +appeased; the barber was, however, for both his beard and his pack-saddle +were the worse for the struggle; Sancho like a good servant obeyed the +slightest word of his master; while the four servants of Don Luis kept +quiet when they saw how little they gained by not being so. The landlord +alone insisted upon it that they must punish the insolence of this +madman, who at every turn raised a disturbance in the inn; but at length +the uproar was stilled for the present; the pack-saddle remained a +caparison till the day of judgment, and the basin a helmet and the inn a +castle in Don Quixote's imagination. + +All having been now pacified and made friends by the persuasion of the +Judge and the curate, the servants of Don Luis began again to urge him to +return with them at once; and while he was discussing the matter with +them, the Judge took counsel with Don Fernando, Cardenio, and the curate +as to what he ought to do in the case, telling them how it stood, and +what Don Luis had said to him. It was agreed at length that Don Fernando +should tell the servants of Don Luis who he was, and that it was his +desire that Don Luis should accompany him to Andalusia, where he would +receive from the marquis his brother the welcome his quality entitled him +to; for, otherwise, it was easy to see from the determination of Don Luis +that he would not return to his father at present, though they tore him +to pieces. On learning the rank of Don Fernando and the resolution of Don +Luis the four then settled it between themselves that three of them +should return to tell his father how matters stood, and that the other +should remain to wait upon Don Luis, and not leave him until they came +back for him, or his father's orders were known. Thus by the authority of +Agramante and the wisdom of King Sobrino all this complication of +disputes was arranged; but the enemy of concord and hater of peace, +feeling himself slighted and made a fool of, and seeing how little he had +gained after having involved them all in such an elaborate entanglement, +resolved to try his hand once more by stirring up fresh quarrels and +disturbances. + +It came about in this wise: the officers were pacified on learning the +rank of those with whom they had been engaged, and withdrew from the +contest, considering that whatever the result might be they were likely +to get the worst of the battle; but one of them, the one who had been +thrashed and kicked by Don Fernando, recollected that among some warrants +he carried for the arrest of certain delinquents, he had one against Don +Quixote, whom the Holy Brotherhood had ordered to be arrested for setting +the galley slaves free, as Sancho had, with very good reason, +apprehended. Suspecting how it was, then, he wished to satisfy himself as +to whether Don Quixote's features corresponded; and taking a parchment +out of his bosom he lit upon what he was in search of, and setting +himself to read it deliberately, for he was not a quick reader, as he +made out each word he fixed his eyes on Don Quixote, and went on +comparing the description in the warrant with his face, and discovered +that beyond all doubt he was the person described in it. As soon as he +had satisfied himself, folding up the parchment, he took the warrant in +his left hand and with his right seized Don Quixote by the collar so +tightly that he did not allow him to breathe, and shouted aloud, "Help +for the Holy Brotherhood! and that you may see I demand it in earnest, +read this warrant which says this highwayman is to be arrested." + +The curate took the warrant and saw that what the officer said was true, +and that it agreed with Don Quixote's appearance, who, on his part, when +he found himself roughly handled by this rascally clown, worked up to the +highest pitch of wrath, and all his joints cracking with rage, with both +hands seized the officer by the throat with all his might, so that had he +not been helped by his comrades he would have yielded up his life ere Don +Quixote released his hold. The landlord, who had perforce to support his +brother officers, ran at once to aid them. The landlady, when she saw her +husband engaged in a fresh quarrel, lifted up her voice afresh, and its +note was immediately caught up by Maritornes and her daughter, calling +upon heaven and all present for help; and Sancho, seeing what was going +on, exclaimed, "By the Lord, it is quite true what my master says about +the enchantments of this castle, for it is impossible to live an hour in +peace in it!" + +Don Fernando parted the officer and Don Quixote, and to their mutual +contentment made them relax the grip by which they held, the one the coat +collar, the other the throat of his adversary; for all this, however, the +officers did not cease to demand their prisoner and call on them to help, +and deliver him over bound into their power, as was required for the +service of the King and of the Holy Brotherhood, on whose behalf they +again demanded aid and assistance to effect the capture of this robber +and footpad of the highways. + +Don Quixote smiled when he heard these words, and said very calmly, "Come +now, base, ill-born brood; call ye it highway robbery to give freedom to +those in bondage, to release the captives, to succour the miserable, to +raise up the fallen, to relieve the needy? Infamous beings, who by your +vile grovelling intellects deserve that heaven should not make known to +you the virtue that lies in knight-errantry, or show you the sin and +ignorance in which ye lie when ye refuse to respect the shadow, not to +say the presence, of any knight-errant! Come now; band, not of officers, +but of thieves; footpads with the licence of the Holy Brotherhood; tell +me who was the ignoramus who signed a warrant of arrest against such a +knight as I am? Who was he that did not know that knights-errant are +independent of all jurisdictions, that their law is their sword, their +charter their prowess, and their edicts their will? Who, I say again, was +the fool that knows not that there are no letters patent of nobility that +confer such privileges or exemptions as a knight-errant acquires the day +he is dubbed a knight, and devotes himself to the arduous calling of +chivalry? What knight-errant ever paid poll-tax, duty, queen's pin-money, +king's dues, toll or ferry? What tailor ever took payment of him for +making his clothes? What castellan that received him in his castle ever +made him pay his shot? What king did not seat him at his table? What +damsel was not enamoured of him and did not yield herself up wholly to +his will and pleasure? And, lastly, what knight-errant has there been, is +there, or will there ever be in the world, not bold enough to give, +single-handed, four hundred cudgellings to four hundred officers of the +Holy Brotherhood if they come in his way?" + +Chapter XLVI. - +Of the end of the notable adventure of the officers of the holy +brotherhood; and of the great ferocity of our worthy Knight, Don Quixote + +While Don Quixote was talking in this strain, the curate was endeavouring +to persuade the officers that he was out of his senses, as they might +perceive by his deeds and his words, and that they need not press the +matter any further, for even if they arrested him and carried him off, +they would have to release him by-and-by as a madman; to which the holder +of the warrant replied that he had nothing to do with inquiring into Don +Quixote's madness, but only to execute his superior's orders, and that +once taken they might let him go three hundred times if they liked. + +"For all that," said the curate, "you must not take him away this time, +nor will he, it is my opinion, let himself be taken away." + +In short, the curate used such arguments, and Don Quixote did such mad +things, that the officers would have been more mad than he was if they +had not perceived his want of wits, and so they thought it best to allow +themselves to be pacified, and even to act as peacemakers between the +barber and Sancho Panza, who still continued their altercation with much +bitterness. In the end they, as officers of justice, settled the question +by arbitration in such a manner that both sides were, if not perfectly +contented, at least to some extent satisfied; for they changed the +pack-saddles, but not the girths or head-stalls; and as to Mambrino's +helmet, the curate, under the rose and without Don Quixote's knowing it, +paid eight reals for the basin, and the barber executed a full receipt +and engagement to make no further demand then or thenceforth for +evermore, amen. These two disputes, which were the most important and +gravest, being settled, it only remained for the servants of Don Luis to +consent that three of them should return while one was left to accompany +him whither Don Fernando desired to take him; and good luck and better +fortune, having already begun to solve difficulties and remove +obstructions in favour of the lovers and warriors of the inn, were +pleased to persevere and bring everything to a happy issue; for the +servants agreed to do as Don Luis wished; which gave Dona Clara such +happiness that no one could have looked into her face just then without +seeing the joy of her heart. Zoraida, though she did not fully comprehend +all she saw, was grave or gay without knowing why, as she watched and +studied the various countenances, but particularly her Spaniard's, whom +she followed with her eyes and clung to with her soul. The gift and +compensation which the curate gave the barber had not escaped the +landlord's notice, and he demanded Don Quixote's reckoning, together with +the amount of the damage to his wine-skins, and the loss of his wine, +swearing that neither Rocinante nor Sancho's ass should leave the inn +until he had been paid to the very last farthing. The curate settled all +amicably, and Don Fernando paid; though the Judge had also very readily +offered to pay the score; and all became so peaceful and quiet that the +inn no longer reminded one of the discord of Agramante's camp, as Don +Quixote said, but of the peace and tranquillity of the days of +Octavianus: for all which it was the universal opinion that their thanks +were due to the great zeal and eloquence of the curate, and to the +unexampled generosity of Don Fernando. + +Finding himself now clear and quit of all quarrels, his squire's as well +as his own, Don Quixote considered that it would be advisable to continue +the journey he had begun, and bring to a close that great adventure for +which he had been called and chosen; and with this high resolve he went +and knelt before Dorothea, who, however, would not allow him to utter a +word until he had risen; so to obey her he rose, and said, "It is a +common proverb, fair lady, that 'diligence is the mother of good +fortune,' and experience has often shown in important affairs that the +earnestness of the negotiator brings the doubtful case to a successful +termination; but in nothing does this truth show itself more plainly than +in war, where quickness and activity forestall the devices of the enemy, +and win the victory before the foe has time to defend himself. All this I +say, exalted and esteemed lady, because it seems to me that for us to +remain any longer in this castle now is useless, and may be injurious to +us in a way that we shall find out some day; for who knows but that your +enemy the giant may have learned by means of secret and diligent spies +that I am going to destroy him, and if the opportunity be given him he +may seize it to fortify himself in some impregnable castle or stronghold, +against which all my efforts and the might of my indefatigable arm may +avail but little? Therefore, lady, let us, as I say, forestall his +schemes by our activity, and let us depart at once in quest of fair +fortune; for your highness is only kept from enjoying it as fully as you +could desire by my delay in encountering your adversary." + +Don Quixote held his peace and said no more, calmly awaiting the reply of +the beauteous princess, who, with commanding dignity and in a style +adapted to Don Quixote's own, replied to him in these words, "I give you +thanks, sir knight, for the eagerness you, like a good knight to whom it +is a natural obligation to succour the orphan and the needy, display to +afford me aid in my sore trouble; and heaven grant that your wishes and +mine may be realised, so that you may see that there are women in this +world capable of gratitude; as to my departure, let it be forthwith, for +I have no will but yours; dispose of me entirely in accordance with your +good pleasure; for she who has once entrusted to you the defence of her +person, and placed in your hands the recovery of her dominions, must not +think of offering opposition to that which your wisdom may ordain." + +"On, then, in God's name," said Don Quixote; "for, when a lady humbles +herself to me, I will not lose the opportunity of raising her up and +placing her on the throne of her ancestors. Let us depart at once, for +the common saying that in delay there is danger, lends spurs to my +eagerness to take the road; and as neither heaven has created nor hell +seen any that can daunt or intimidate me, saddle Rocinante, Sancho, and +get ready thy ass and the queen's palfrey, and let us take leave of the +castellan and these gentlemen, and go hence this very instant." + +Sancho, who was standing by all the time, said, shaking his head, "Ah! +master, master, there is more mischief in the village than one hears of, +begging all good bodies' pardon." + +"What mischief can there be in any village, or in all the cities of the +world, you booby, that can hurt my reputation?" said Don Quixote. + +"If your worship is angry," replied Sancho, "I will hold my tongue and +leave unsaid what as a good squire I am bound to say, and what a good +servant should tell his master." + +"Say what thou wilt," returned Don Quixote, "provided thy words be not +meant to work upon my fears; for thou, if thou fearest, art behaving like +thyself; but I like myself, in not fearing." + +"It is nothing of the sort, as I am a sinner before God," said Sancho, +"but that I take it to be sure and certain that this lady, who calls +herself queen of the great kingdom of Micomicon, is no more so than my +mother; for, if she was what she says, she would not go rubbing noses +with one that is here every instant and behind every door." + +Dorothea turned red at Sancho's words, for the truth was that her husband +Don Fernando had now and then, when the others were not looking, gathered +from her lips some of the reward his love had earned, and Sancho seeing +this had considered that such freedom was more like a courtesan than a +queen of a great kingdom; she, however, being unable or not caring to +answer him, allowed him to proceed, and he continued, "This I say, senor, +because, if after we have travelled roads and highways, and passed bad +nights and worse days, one who is now enjoying himself in this inn is to +reap the fruit of our labours, there is no need for me to be in a hurry +to saddle Rocinante, put the pad on the ass, or get ready the palfrey; +for it will be better for us to stay quiet, and let every jade mind her +spinning, and let us go to dinner." + +Good God, what was the indignation of Don Quixote when he heard the +audacious words of his squire! So great was it, that in a voice +inarticulate with rage, with a stammering tongue, and eyes that flashed +living fire, he exclaimed, "Rascally clown, boorish, insolent, and +ignorant, ill-spoken, foul-mouthed, impudent backbiter and slanderer! +Hast thou dared to utter such words in my presence and in that of these +illustrious ladies? Hast thou dared to harbour such gross and shameless +thoughts in thy muddled imagination? Begone from my presence, thou born +monster, storehouse of lies, hoard of untruths, garner of knaveries, +inventor of scandals, publisher of absurdities, enemy of the respect due +to royal personages! Begone, show thyself no more before me under pain of +my wrath;" and so saying he knitted his brows, puffed out his cheeks, +gazed around him, and stamped on the ground violently with his right +foot, showing in every way the rage that was pent up in his heart; and at +his words and furious gestures Sancho was so scared and terrified that he +would have been glad if the earth had opened that instant and swallowed +him, and his only thought was to turn round and make his escape from the +angry presence of his master. + +But the ready-witted Dorothea, who by this time so well understood Don +Quixote's humour, said, to mollify his wrath, "Be not irritated at the +absurdities your good squire has uttered, Sir Knight of the Rueful +Countenance, for perhaps he did not utter them without cause, and from +his good sense and Christian conscience it is not likely that he would +bear false witness against anyone. We may therefore believe, without any +hesitation, that since, as you say, sir knight, everything in this castle +goes and is brought about by means of enchantment, Sancho, I say, may +possibly have seen, through this diabolical medium, what he says he saw +so much to the detriment of my modesty." + +"I swear by God Omnipotent," exclaimed Don Quixote at this, "your +highness has hit the point; and that some vile illusion must have come +before this sinner of a Sancho, that made him see what it would have been +impossible to see by any other means than enchantments; for I know well +enough, from the poor fellow's goodness and harmlessness, that he is +incapable of bearing false witness against anybody." + +"True, no doubt," said Don Fernando, "for which reason, Senor Don +Quixote, you ought to forgive him and restore him to the bosom of your +favour, sicut erat in principio, before illusions of this sort had taken +away his senses." + +Don Quixote said he was ready to pardon him, and the curate went for +Sancho, who came in very humbly, and falling on his knees begged for the +hand of his master, who having presented it to him and allowed him to +kiss it, gave him his blessing and said, "Now, Sancho my son, thou wilt +be convinced of the truth of what I have many a time told thee, that +everything in this castle is done by means of enchantment." + +"So it is, I believe," said Sancho, "except the affair of the blanket, +which came to pass in reality by ordinary means." + +"Believe it not," said Don Quixote, "for had it been so, I would have +avenged thee that instant, or even now; but neither then nor now could I, +nor have I seen anyone upon whom to avenge thy wrong." + +They were all eager to know what the affair of the blanket was, and the +landlord gave them a minute account of Sancho's flights, at which they +laughed not a little, and at which Sancho would have been no less out of +countenance had not his master once more assured him it was all +enchantment. For all that his simplicity never reached so high a pitch +that he could persuade himself it was not the plain and simple truth, +without any deception whatever about it, that he had been blanketed by +beings of flesh and blood, and not by visionary and imaginary phantoms, +as his master believed and protested. + +The illustrious company had now been two days in the inn; and as it +seemed to them time to depart, they devised a plan so that, without +giving Dorothea and Don Fernando the trouble of going back with Don +Quixote to his village under pretence of restoring Queen Micomicona, the +curate and the barber might carry him away with them as they proposed, +and the curate be able to take his madness in hand at home; and in +pursuance of their plan they arranged with the owner of an oxcart who +happened to be passing that way to carry him after this fashion. They +constructed a kind of cage with wooden bars, large enough to hold Don +Quixote comfortably; and then Don Fernando and his companions, the +servants of Don Luis, and the officers of the Brotherhood, together with +the landlord, by the directions and advice of the curate, covered their +faces and disguised themselves, some in one way, some in another, so as +to appear to Don Quixote quite different from the persons he had seen in +the castle. This done, in profound silence they entered the room where he +was asleep, taking his his rest after the past frays, and advancing to +where he was sleeping tranquilly, not dreaming of anything of the kind +happening, they seized him firmly and bound him fast hand and foot, so +that, when he awoke startled, he was unable to move, and could only +marvel and wonder at the strange figures he saw before him; upon which he +at once gave way to the idea which his crazed fancy invariably conjured +up before him, and took it into his head that all these shapes were +phantoms of the enchanted castle, and that he himself was unquestionably +enchanted as he could neither move nor help himself; precisely what the +curate, the concoctor of the scheme, expected would happen. Of all that +were there Sancho was the only one who was at once in his senses and in +his own proper character, and he, though he was within very little of +sharing his master's infirmity, did not fail to perceive who all these +disguised figures were; but he did not dare to open his lips until he saw +what came of this assault and capture of his master; nor did the latter +utter a word, waiting to the upshot of his mishap; which was that +bringing in the cage, they shut him up in it and nailed the bars so +firmly that they could not be easily burst open. + +They then took him on their shoulders, and as they passed out of the room +an awful voice--as much so as the barber, not he of the pack-saddle but +the other, was able to make it--was heard to say, "O Knight of the Rueful +Countenance, let not this captivity in which thou art placed afflict +thee, for this must needs be, for the more speedy accomplishment of the +adventure in which thy great heart has engaged thee; the which shall be +accomplished when the raging Manchegan lion and the white Tobosan dove +shall be linked together, having first humbled their haughty necks to the +gentle yoke of matrimony. And from this marvellous union shall come forth +to the light of the world brave whelps that shall rival the ravening +claws of their valiant father; and this shall come to pass ere the +pursuer of the flying nymph shall in his swift natural course have twice +visited the starry signs. And thou, O most noble and obedient squire that +ever bore sword at side, beard on face, or nose to smell with, be not +dismayed or grieved to see the flower of knight-errantry carried away +thus before thy very eyes; for soon, if it so please the Framer of the +universe, thou shalt see thyself exalted to such a height that thou shalt +not know thyself, and the promises which thy good master has made thee +shall not prove false; and I assure thee, on the authority of the sage +Mentironiana, that thy wages shall be paid thee, as thou shalt see in due +season. Follow then the footsteps of the valiant enchanted knight, for it +is expedient that thou shouldst go to the destination assigned to both of +you; and as it is not permitted to me to say more, God be with thee; for +I return to that place I wot of;" and as he brought the prophecy to a +close he raised his voice to a high pitch, and then lowered it to such a +soft tone, that even those who knew it was all a joke were almost +inclined to take what they heard seriously. + +Don Quixote was comforted by the prophecy he heard, for he at once +comprehended its meaning perfectly, and perceived it was promised to him +that he should see himself united in holy and lawful matrimony with his +beloved Dulcinea del Toboso, from whose blessed womb should proceed the +whelps, his sons, to the eternal glory of La Mancha; and being thoroughly +and firmly persuaded of this, he lifted up his voice, and with a deep +sigh exclaimed, "Oh thou, whoever thou art, who hast foretold me so much +good, I implore of thee that on my part thou entreat that sage enchanter +who takes charge of my interests, that he leave me not to perish in this +captivity in which they are now carrying me away, ere I see fulfilled +promises so joyful and incomparable as those which have been now made me; +for, let this but come to pass, and I shall glory in the pains of my +prison, find comfort in these chains wherewith they bind me, and regard +this bed whereon they stretch me, not as a hard battle-field, but as a +soft and happy nuptial couch; and touching the consolation of Sancho +Panza, my squire, I rely upon his goodness and rectitude that he will not +desert me in good or evil fortune; for if, by his ill luck or mine, it +may not happen to be in my power to give him the island I have promised, +or any equivalent for it, at least his wages shall not be lost; for in my +will, which is already made, I have declared the sum that shall be paid +to him, measured, not by his many faithful services, but by the means at +my disposal." + +Sancho bowed his head very respectfully and kissed both his hands, for, +being tied together, he could not kiss one; and then the apparitions +lifted the cage upon their shoulders and fixed it upon the ox-cart. + +Chapter XLVII. - +Of the strange manner in which Don Quixote of La Mancha was carried away +enchanted, together with other remarkable incidents + +When Don Quixote saw himself caged and hoisted on the cart in this way, +he said, "Many grave histories of knights-errant have I read; but never +yet have I read, seen, or heard of their carrying off enchanted +knights-errant in this fashion, or at the slow pace that these lazy, +sluggish animals promise; for they always take them away through the air +with marvellous swiftness, enveloped in a dark thick cloud, or on a +chariot of fire, or it may be on some hippogriff or other beast of the +kind; but to carry me off like this on an ox-cart! By God, it puzzles me! +But perhaps the chivalry and enchantments of our day take a different +course from that of those in days gone by; and it may be, too, that as I +am a new knight in the world, and the first to revive the already +forgotten calling of knight-adventurers, they may have newly invented +other kinds of enchantments and other modes of carrying off the +enchanted. What thinkest thou of the matter, Sancho my son?" + +"I don't know what to think," answered Sancho, "not being as well read as +your worship in errant writings; but for all that I venture to say and +swear that these apparitions that are about us are not quite catholic." + +"Catholic!" said Don Quixote. "Father of me! how can they be Catholic +when they are all devils that have taken fantastic shapes to come and do +this, and bring me to this condition? And if thou wouldst prove it, touch +them, and feel them, and thou wilt find they have only bodies of air, and +no consistency except in appearance." + +"By God, master," returned Sancho, "I have touched them already; and that +devil, that goes about there so busily, has firm flesh, and another +property very different from what I have heard say devils have, for by +all accounts they all smell of brimstone and other bad smells; but this +one smells of amber half a league off." Sancho was here speaking of Don +Fernando, who, like a gentleman of his rank, was very likely perfumed as +Sancho said. + +"Marvel not at that, Sancho my friend," said Don Quixote; "for let me +tell thee devils are crafty; and even if they do carry odours about with +them, they themselves have no smell, because they are spirits; or, if +they have any smell, they cannot smell of anything sweet, but of +something foul and fetid; and the reason is that as they carry hell with +them wherever they go, and can get no ease whatever from their torments, +and as a sweet smell is a thing that gives pleasure and enjoyment, it is +impossible that they can smell sweet; if, then, this devil thou speakest +of seems to thee to smell of amber, either thou art deceiving thyself, or +he wants to deceive thee by making thee fancy he is not a devil." + +Such was the conversation that passed between master and man; and Don +Fernando and Cardenio, apprehensive of Sancho's making a complete +discovery of their scheme, towards which he had already gone some way, +resolved to hasten their departure, and calling the landlord aside, they +directed him to saddle Rocinante and put the pack-saddle on Sancho's ass, +which he did with great alacrity. In the meantime the curate had made an +arrangement with the officers that they should bear them company as far +as his village, he paying them so much a day. Cardenio hung the buckler +on one side of the bow of Rocinante's saddle and the basin on the other, +and by signs commanded Sancho to mount his ass and take Rocinante's +bridle, and at each side of the cart he placed two officers with their +muskets; but before the cart was put in motion, out came the landlady and +her daughter and Maritornes to bid Don Quixote farewell, pretending to +weep with grief at his misfortune; and to them Don Quixote said: + +"Weep not, good ladies, for all these mishaps are the lot of those who +follow the profession I profess; and if these reverses did not befall me +I should not esteem myself a famous knight-errant; for such things never +happen to knights of little renown and fame, because nobody in the world +thinks about them; to valiant knights they do, for these are envied for +their virtue and valour by many princes and other knights who compass the +destruction of the worthy by base means. Nevertheless, virtue is of +herself so mighty, that, in spite of all the magic that Zoroaster its +first inventor knew, she will come victorious out of every trial, and +shed her light upon the earth as the sun does upon the heavens. Forgive +me, fair ladies, if, through inadvertence, I have in aught offended you; +for intentionally and wittingly I have never done so to any; and pray to +God that he deliver me from this captivity to which some malevolent +enchanter has consigned me; and should I find myself released therefrom, +the favours that ye have bestowed upon me in this castle shall be held in +memory by me, that I may acknowledge, recognise, and requite them as they +deserve." + +While this was passing between the ladies of the castle and Don Quixote, +the curate and the barber bade farewell to Don Fernando and his +companions, to the captain, his brother, and the ladies, now all made +happy, and in particular to Dorothea and Luscinda. They all embraced one +another, and promised to let each other know how things went with them, +and Don Fernando directed the curate where to write to him, to tell him +what became of Don Quixote, assuring him that there was nothing that +could give him more pleasure than to hear of it, and that he too, on his +part, would send him word of everything he thought he would like to know, +about his marriage, Zoraida's baptism, Don Luis's affair, and Luscinda's +return to her home. The curate promised to comply with his request +carefully, and they embraced once more, and renewed their promises. + +The landlord approached the curate and handed him some papers, saying he +had discovered them in the lining of the valise in which the novel of +"The Ill-advised Curiosity" had been found, and that he might take them +all away with him as their owner had not since returned; for, as he could +not read, he did not want them himself. The curate thanked him, and +opening them he saw at the beginning of the manuscript the words, "Novel +of Rinconete and Cortadillo," by which he perceived that it was a novel, +and as that of "The Ill-advised Curiosity" had been good he concluded +this would be so too, as they were both probably by the same author; so +he kept it, intending to read it when he had an opportunity. He then +mounted and his friend the barber did the same, both masked, so as not to +be recognised by Don Quixote, and set out following in the rear of the +cart. The order of march was this: first went the cart with the owner +leading it; at each side of it marched the officers of the Brotherhood, +as has been said, with their muskets; then followed Sancho Panza on his +ass, leading Rocinante by the bridle; and behind all came the curate and +the barber on their mighty mules, with faces covered, as aforesaid, and a +grave and serious air, measuring their pace to suit the slow steps of the +oxen. Don Quixote was seated in the cage, with his hands tied and his +feet stretched out, leaning against the bars as silent and as patient as +if he were a stone statue and not a man of flesh. Thus slowly and +silently they made, it might be, two leagues, until they reached a valley +which the carter thought a convenient place for resting and feeding his +oxen, and he said so to the curate, but the barber was of opinion that +they ought to push on a little farther, as at the other side of a hill +which appeared close by he knew there was a valley that had more grass +and much better than the one where they proposed to halt; and his advice +was taken and they continued their journey. + +Just at that moment the curate, looking back, saw coming on behind them +six or seven mounted men, well found and equipped, who soon overtook +them, for they were travelling, not at the sluggish, deliberate pace of +oxen, but like men who rode canons' mules, and in haste to take their +noontide rest as soon as possible at the inn which was in sight not a +league off. The quick travellers came up with the slow, and courteous +salutations were exchanged; and one of the new comers, who was, in fact, +a canon of Toledo and master of the others who accompanied him, observing +the regular order of the procession, the cart, the officers, Sancho, +Rocinante, the curate and the barber, and above all Don Quixote caged and +confined, could not help asking what was the meaning of carrying the man +in that fashion; though, from the badges of the officers, he already +concluded that he must be some desperate highwayman or other malefactor +whose punishment fell within the jurisdiction of the Holy Brotherhood. +One of the officers to whom he had put the question, replied, "Let the +gentleman himself tell you the meaning of his going this way, senor, for +we do not know." + +Don Quixote overheard the conversation and said, "Haply, gentlemen, you +are versed and learned in matters of errant chivalry? Because if you are +I will tell you my misfortunes; if not, there is no good in my giving +myself the trouble of relating them;" but here the curate and the barber, +seeing that the travellers were engaged in conversation with Don Quixote, +came forward, in order to answer in such a way as to save their stratagem +from being discovered. + +The canon, replying to Don Quixote, said, "In truth, brother, I know more +about books of chivalry than I do about Villalpando's elements of logic; +so if that be all, you may safely tell me what you please." + +"In God's name, then, senor," replied Don Quixote; "if that be so, I +would have you know that I am held enchanted in this cage by the envy and +fraud of wicked enchanters; for virtue is more persecuted by the wicked +than loved by the good. I am a knight-errant, and not one of those whose +names Fame has never thought of immortalising in her record, but of those +who, in defiance and in spite of envy itself, and all the magicians that +Persia, or Brahmans that India, or Gymnosophists that Ethiopia ever +produced, will place their names in the temple of immortality, to serve +as examples and patterns for ages to come, whereby knights-errant may see +the footsteps in which they must tread if they would attain the summit +and crowning point of honour in arms." + +"What Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha says," observed the curate, "is the +truth; for he goes enchanted in this cart, not from any fault or sins of +his, but because of the malevolence of those to whom virtue is odious and +valour hateful. This, senor, is the Knight of the Rueful Countenance, if +you have ever heard him named, whose valiant achievements and mighty +deeds shall be written on lasting brass and imperishable marble, +notwithstanding all the efforts of envy to obscure them and malice to +hide them." + +When the canon heard both the prisoner and the man who was at liberty +talk in such a strain he was ready to cross himself in his astonishment, +and could not make out what had befallen him; and all his attendants were +in the same state of amazement. + +At this point Sancho Panza, who had drawn near to hear the conversation, +said, in order to make everything plain, "Well, sirs, you may like or +dislike what I am going to say, but the fact of the matter is, my master, +Don Quixote, is just as much enchanted as my mother. He is in his full +senses, he eats and he drinks, and he has his calls like other men and as +he had yesterday, before they caged him. And if that's the case, what do +they mean by wanting me to believe that he is enchanted? For I have heard +many a one say that enchanted people neither eat, nor sleep, nor talk; +and my master, if you don't stop him, will talk more than thirty +lawyers." Then turning to the curate he exclaimed, "Ah, senor curate, +senor curate! do you think I don't know you? Do you think I don't guess +and see the drift of these new enchantments? Well then, I can tell you I +know you, for all your face is covered, and I can tell you I am up to +you, however you may hide your tricks. After all, where envy reigns +virtue cannot live, and where there is niggardliness there can be no +liberality. Ill betide the devil! if it had not been for your worship my +master would be married to the Princess Micomicona this minute, and I +should be a count at least; for no less was to be expected, as well from +the goodness of my master, him of the Rueful Countenance, as from the +greatness of my services. But I see now how true it is what they say in +these parts, that the wheel of fortune turns faster than a mill-wheel, +and that those who were up yesterday are down to-day. I am sorry for my +wife and children, for when they might fairly and reasonably expect to +see their father return to them a governor or viceroy of some island or +kingdom, they will see him come back a horse-boy. I have said all this, +senor curate, only to urge your paternity to lay to your conscience your +ill-treatment of my master; and have a care that God does not call you to +account in another life for making a prisoner of him in this way, and +charge against you all the succours and good deeds that my lord Don +Quixote leaves undone while he is shut up. + +"Trim those lamps there!" exclaimed the barber at this; "so you are of +the same fraternity as your master, too, Sancho? By God, I begin to see +that you will have to keep him company in the cage, and be enchanted like +him for having caught some of his humour and chivalry. It was an evil +hour when you let yourself be got with child by his promises, and that +island you long so much for found its way into your head." + +"I am not with child by anyone," returned Sancho, "nor am I a man to let +myself be got with child, if it was by the King himself. Though I am poor +I am an old Christian, and I owe nothing to nobody, and if I long for an +island, other people long for worse. Each of us is the son of his own +works; and being a man I may come to be pope, not to say governor of an +island, especially as my master may win so many that he will not know +whom to give them to. Mind how you talk, master barber; for shaving is +not everything, and there is some difference between Peter and Peter. I +say this because we all know one another, and it will not do to throw +false dice with me; and as to the enchantment of my master, God knows the +truth; leave it as it is; it only makes it worse to stir it." + +The barber did not care to answer Sancho lest by his plain speaking he +should disclose what the curate and he himself were trying so hard to +conceal; and under the same apprehension the curate had asked the canon +to ride on a little in advance, so that he might tell him the mystery of +this man in the cage, and other things that would amuse him. The canon +agreed, and going on ahead with his servants, listened with attention to +the account of the character, life, madness, and ways of Don Quixote, +given him by the curate, who described to him briefly the beginning and +origin of his craze, and told him the whole story of his adventures up to +his being confined in the cage, together with the plan they had of taking +him home to try if by any means they could discover a cure for his +madness. The canon and his servants were surprised anew when they heard +Don Quixote's strange story, and when it was finished he said, "To tell +the truth, senor curate, I for my part consider what they call books of +chivalry to be mischievous to the State; and though, led by idle and +false taste, I have read the beginnings of almost all that have been +printed, I never could manage to read any one of them from beginning to +end; for it seems to me they are all more or less the same thing; and one +has nothing more in it than another; this no more than that. And in my +opinion this sort of writing and composition is of the same species as +the fables they call the Milesian, nonsensical tales that aim solely at +giving amusement and not instruction, exactly the opposite of the +apologue fables which amuse and instruct at the same time. And though it +may be the chief object of such books to amuse, I do not know how they +can succeed, when they are so full of such monstrous nonsense. For the +enjoyment the mind feels must come from the beauty and harmony which it +perceives or contemplates in the things that the eye or the imagination +brings before it; and nothing that has any ugliness or disproportion +about it can give any pleasure. What beauty, then, or what proportion of +the parts to the whole, or of the whole to the parts, can there be in a +book or fable where a lad of sixteen cuts down a giant as tall as a tower +and makes two halves of him as if he was an almond cake? And when they +want to give us a picture of a battle, after having told us that there +are a million of combatants on the side of the enemy, let the hero of the +book be opposed to them, and we have perforce to believe, whether we like +it or not, that the said knight wins the victory by the single might of +his strong arm. And then, what shall we say of the facility with which a +born queen or empress will give herself over into the arms of some +unknown wandering knight? What mind, that is not wholly barbarous and +uncultured, can find pleasure in reading of how a great tower full of +knights sails away across the sea like a ship with a fair wind, and will +be to-night in Lombardy and to-morrow morning in the land of Prester John +of the Indies, or some other that Ptolemy never described nor Marco Polo +saw? And if, in answer to this, I am told that the authors of books of +the kind write them as fiction, and therefore are not bound to regard +niceties of truth, I would reply that fiction is all the better the more +it looks like truth, and gives the more pleasure the more probability and +possibility there is about it. Plots in fiction should be wedded to the +understanding of the reader, and be constructed in such a way that, +reconciling impossibilities, smoothing over difficulties, keeping the +mind on the alert, they may surprise, interest, divert, and entertain, so +that wonder and delight joined may keep pace one with the other; all +which he will fail to effect who shuns verisimilitude and truth to +nature, wherein lies the perfection of writing. I have never yet seen any +book of chivalry that puts together a connected plot complete in all its +numbers, so that the middle agrees with the beginning, and the end with +the beginning and middle; on the contrary, they construct them with such +a multitude of members that it seems as though they meant to produce a +chimera or monster rather than a well-proportioned figure. And besides +all this they are harsh in their style, incredible in their achievements, +licentious in their amours, uncouth in their courtly speeches, prolix in +their battles, silly in their arguments, absurd in their travels, and, in +short, wanting in everything like intelligent art; for which reason they +deserve to be banished from the Christian commonwealth as a worthless +breed." + +The curate listened to him attentively and felt that he was a man of +sound understanding, and that there was good reason in what he said; so +he told him that, being of the same opinion himself, and bearing a grudge +to books of chivalry, he had burned all Don Quixote's, which were many; +and gave him an account of the scrutiny he had made of them, and of those +he had condemned to the flames and those he had spared, with which the +canon was not a little amused, adding that though he had said so much in +condemnation of these books, still he found one good thing in them, and +that was the opportunity they afforded to a gifted intellect for +displaying itself; for they presented a wide and spacious field over +which the pen might range freely, describing shipwrecks, tempests, +combats, battles, portraying a valiant captain with all the +qualifications requisite to make one, showing him sagacious in foreseeing +the wiles of the enemy, eloquent in speech to encourage or restrain his +soldiers, ripe in counsel, rapid in resolve, as bold in biding his time +as in pressing the attack; now picturing some sad tragic incident, now +some joyful and unexpected event; here a beauteous lady, virtuous, wise, +and modest; there a Christian knight, brave and gentle; here a lawless, +barbarous braggart; there a courteous prince, gallant and gracious; +setting forth the devotion and loyalty of vassals, the greatness and +generosity of nobles. "Or again," said he, "the author may show himself +to be an astronomer, or a skilled cosmographer, or musician, or one +versed in affairs of state, and sometimes he will have a chance of coming +forward as a magician if he likes. He can set forth the craftiness of +Ulysses, the piety of AEneas, the valour of Achilles, the misfortunes of +Hector, the treachery of Sinon, the friendship of Euryalus, the +generosity of Alexander, the boldness of Caesar, the clemency and truth +of Trajan, the fidelity of Zopyrus, the wisdom of Cato, and in short all +the faculties that serve to make an illustrious man perfect, now uniting +them in one individual, again distributing them among many; and if this +be done with charm of style and ingenious invention, aiming at the truth +as much as possible, he will assuredly weave a web of bright and varied +threads that, when finished, will display such perfection and beauty that +it will attain the worthiest object any writing can seek, which, as I +said before, is to give instruction and pleasure combined; for the +unrestricted range of these books enables the author to show his powers, +epic, lyric, tragic, or comic, and all the moods the sweet and winning +arts of poesy and oratory are capable of; for the epic may be written in +prose just as well as in verse." + +Chapter XLVIII. - +In which the Canon pursues the subject of the books of chivalry, with +other matters worthy of his wit + +"It is as you say, senor canon," said the curate; "and for that reason +those who have hitherto written books of the sort deserve all the more +censure for writing without paying any attention to good taste or the +rules of art, by which they might guide themselves and become as famous +in prose as the two princes of Greek and Latin poetry are in verse." + +"I myself, at any rate," said the canon, "was once tempted to write a +book of chivalry in which all the points I have mentioned were to be +observed; and if I must own the truth I have more than a hundred sheets +written; and to try if it came up to my own opinion of it, I showed them +to persons who were fond of this kind of reading, to learned and +intelligent men as well as to ignorant people who cared for nothing but +the pleasure of listening to nonsense, and from all I obtained flattering +approval; nevertheless I proceeded no farther with it, as well because it +seemed to me an occupation inconsistent with my profession, as because I +perceived that the fools are more numerous than the wise; and, though it +is better to be praised by the wise few than applauded by the foolish +many, I have no mind to submit myself to the stupid judgment of the silly +public, to whom the reading of such books falls for the most part. + +"But what most of all made me hold my hand and even abandon all idea of +finishing it was an argument I put to myself taken from the plays that +are acted now-a-days, which was in this wise: if those that are now in +vogue, as well those that are pure invention as those founded on history, +are, all or most of them, downright nonsense and things that have neither +head nor tail, and yet the public listens to them with delight, and +regards and cries them up as perfection when they are so far from it; and +if the authors who write them, and the players who act them, say that +this is what they must be, for the public wants this and will have +nothing else; and that those that go by rule and work out a plot +according to the laws of art will only find some half-dozen intelligent +people to understand them, while all the rest remain blind to the merit +of their composition; and that for themselves it is better to get bread +from the many than praise from the few; then my book will fare the same +way, after I have burnt off my eyebrows in trying to observe the +principles I have spoken of, and I shall be 'the tailor of the corner.' +And though I have sometimes endeavoured to convince actors that they are +mistaken in this notion they have adopted, and that they would attract +more people, and get more credit, by producing plays in accordance with +the rules of art, than by absurd ones, they are so thoroughly wedded to +their own opinion that no argument or evidence can wean them from it. + +"I remember saying one day to one of these obstinate fellows, 'Tell me, +do you not recollect that a few years ago, there were three tragedies +acted in Spain, written by a famous poet of these kingdoms, which were +such that they filled all who heard them with admiration, delight, and +interest, the ignorant as well as the wise, the masses as well as the +higher orders, and brought in more money to the performers, these three +alone, than thirty of the best that have been since produced?' + +"'No doubt,' replied the actor in question, 'you mean the "Isabella," the +"Phyllis," and the "Alexandra."' + +"'Those are the ones I mean,' said I; 'and see if they did not observe +the principles of art, and if, by observing them, they failed to show +their superiority and please all the world; so that the fault does not +lie with the public that insists upon nonsense, but with those who don't +know how to produce something else. "The Ingratitude Revenged" was not +nonsense, nor was there any in "The Numantia," nor any to be found in +"The Merchant Lover," nor yet in "The Friendly Fair Foe," nor in some +others that have been written by certain gifted poets, to their own fame +and renown, and to the profit of those that brought them out;' some +further remarks I added to these, with which, I think, I left him rather +dumbfoundered, but not so satisfied or convinced that I could disabuse +him of his error." + +"You have touched upon a subject, senor canon," observed the curate here, +"that has awakened an old enmity I have against the plays in vogue at the +present day, quite as strong as that which I bear to the books of +chivalry; for while the drama, according to Tully, should be the mirror +of human life, the model of manners, and the image of the truth, those +which are presented now-a-days are mirrors of nonsense, models of folly, +and images of lewdness. For what greater nonsense can there be in +connection with what we are now discussing than for an infant to appear +in swaddling clothes in the first scene of the first act, and in the +second a grown-up bearded man? Or what greater absurdity can there be +than putting before us an old man as a swashbuckler, a young man as a +poltroon, a lackey using fine language, a page giving sage advice, a king +plying as a porter, a princess who is a kitchen-maid? And then what shall +I say of their attention to the time in which the action they represent +may or can take place, save that I have seen a play where the first act +began in Europe, the second in Asia, the third finished in Africa, and no +doubt, had it been in four acts, the fourth would have ended in America, +and so it would have been laid in all four quarters of the globe? And if +truth to life is the main thing the drama should keep in view, how is it +possible for any average understanding to be satisfied when the action is +supposed to pass in the time of King Pepin or Charlemagne, and the +principal personage in it they represent to be the Emperor Heraclius who +entered Jerusalem with the cross and won the Holy Sepulchre, like Godfrey +of Bouillon, there being years innumerable between the one and the other? +or, if the play is based on fiction and historical facts are introduced, +or bits of what occurred to different people and at different times mixed +up with it, all, not only without any semblance of probability, but with +obvious errors that from every point of view are inexcusable? And the +worst of it is, there are ignorant people who say that this is +perfection, and that anything beyond this is affected refinement. And +then if we turn to sacred dramas--what miracles they invent in them! What +apocryphal, ill-devised incidents, attributing to one saint the miracles +of another! And even in secular plays they venture to introduce miracles +without any reason or object except that they think some such miracle, or +transformation as they call it, will come in well to astonish stupid +people and draw them to the play. All this tends to the prejudice of the +truth and the corruption of history, nay more, to the reproach of the +wits of Spain; for foreigners who scrupulously observe the laws of the +drama look upon us as barbarous and ignorant, when they see the absurdity +and nonsense of the plays we produce. Nor will it be a sufficient excuse +to say that the chief object well-ordered governments have in view when +they permit plays to be performed in public is to entertain the people +with some harmless amusement occasionally, and keep it from those evil +humours which idleness is apt to engender; and that, as this may be +attained by any sort of play, good or bad, there is no need to lay down +laws, or bind those who write or act them to make them as they ought to +be made, since, as I say, the object sought for may be secured by any +sort. To this I would reply that the same end would be, beyond all +comparison, better attained by means of good plays than by those that are +not so; for after listening to an artistic and properly constructed play, +the hearer will come away enlivened by the jests, instructed by the +serious parts, full of admiration at the incidents, his wits sharpened by +the arguments, warned by the tricks, all the wiser for the examples, +inflamed against vice, and in love with virtue; for in all these ways a +good play will stimulate the mind of the hearer be he ever so boorish or +dull; and of all impossibilities the greatest is that a play endowed with +all these qualities will not entertain, satisfy, and please much more +than one wanting in them, like the greater number of those which are +commonly acted now-a-days. Nor are the poets who write them to be blamed +for this; for some there are among them who are perfectly well aware of +their faults, and know what they ought to do; but as plays have become a +salable commodity, they say, and with truth, that the actors will not buy +them unless they are after this fashion; and so the poet tries to adapt +himself to the requirements of the actor who is to pay him for his work. +And that this is the truth may be seen by the countless plays that a most +fertile wit of these kingdoms has written, with so much brilliancy, so +much grace and gaiety, such polished versification, such choice language, +such profound reflections, and in a word, so rich in eloquence and +elevation of style, that he has filled the world with his fame; and yet, +in consequence of his desire to suit the taste of the actors, they have +not all, as some of them have, come as near perfection as they ought. +Others write plays with such heedlessness that, after they have been +acted, the actors have to fly and abscond, afraid of being punished, as +they often have been, for having acted something offensive to some king +or other, or insulting to some noble family. All which evils, and many +more that I say nothing of, would be removed if there were some +intelligent and sensible person at the capital to examine all plays +before they were acted, not only those produced in the capital itself, +but all that were intended to be acted in Spain; without whose approval, +seal, and signature, no local magistracy should allow any play to be +acted. In that case actors would take care to send their plays to the +capital, and could act them in safety, and those who write them would be +more careful and take more pains with their work, standing in awe of +having to submit it to the strict examination of one who understood the +matter; and so good plays would be produced and the objects they aim at +happily attained; as well the amusement of the people, as the credit of +the wits of Spain, the interest and safety of the actors, and the saving +of trouble in inflicting punishment on them. And if the same or some +other person were authorised to examine the newly written books of +chivalry, no doubt some would appear with all the perfections you have +described, enriching our language with the gracious and precious treasure +of eloquence, and driving the old books into obscurity before the light +of the new ones that would come out for the harmless entertainment, not +merely of the idle but of the very busiest; for the bow cannot be always +bent, nor can weak human nature exist without some lawful amusement." + +The canon and the curate had proceeded thus far with their conversation, +when the barber, coming forward, joined them, and said to the curate, +"This is the spot, senor licentiate, that I said was a good one for fresh +and plentiful pasture for the oxen, while we take our noontide rest." + +"And so it seems," returned the curate, and he told the canon what he +proposed to do, on which he too made up his mind to halt with them, +attracted by the aspect of the fair valley that lay before their eyes; +and to enjoy it as well as the conversation of the curate, to whom he had +begun to take a fancy, and also to learn more particulars about the +doings of Don Quixote, he desired some of his servants to go on to the +inn, which was not far distant, and fetch from it what eatables there +might be for the whole party, as he meant to rest for the afternoon where +he was; to which one of his servants replied that the sumpter mule, which +by this time ought to have reached the inn, carried provisions enough to +make it unnecessary to get anything from the inn except barley. + +"In that case," said the canon, "take all the beasts there, and bring the +sumpter mule back." + +While this was going on, Sancho, perceiving that he could speak to his +master without having the curate and the barber, of whom he had his +suspicions, present all the time, approached the cage in which Don +Quixote was placed, and said, "Senor, to ease my conscience I want to +tell you the state of the case as to your enchantment, and that is that +these two here, with their faces covered, are the curate of our village +and the barber; and I suspect they have hit upon this plan of carrying +you off in this fashion, out of pure envy because your worship surpasses +them in doing famous deeds; and if this be the truth it follows that you +are not enchanted, but hoodwinked and made a fool of. And to prove this I +want to ask you one thing; and if you answer me as I believe you will +answer, you will be able to lay your finger on the trick, and you will +see that you are not enchanted but gone wrong in your wits." + +"Ask what thou wilt, Sancho my son," returned Don Quixote, "for I will +satisfy thee and answer all thou requirest. As to what thou sayest, that +these who accompany us yonder are the curate and the barber, our +neighbours and acquaintances, it is very possible that they may seem to +be those same persons; but that they are so in reality and in fact, +believe it not on any account; what thou art to believe and think is +that, if they look like them, as thou sayest, it must be that those who +have enchanted me have taken this shape and likeness; for it is easy for +enchanters to take any form they please, and they may have taken those of +our friends in order to make thee think as thou dost, and lead thee into +a labyrinth of fancies from which thou wilt find no escape though thou +hadst the cord of Theseus; and they may also have done it to make me +uncertain in my mind, and unable to conjecture whence this evil comes to +me; for if on the one hand thou dost tell me that the barber and curate +of our village are here in company with us, and on the other I find +myself shut up in a cage, and know in my heart that no power on earth +that was not supernatural would have been able to shut me in, what +wouldst thou have me say or think, but that my enchantment is of a sort +that transcends all I have ever read of in all the histories that deal +with knights-errant that have been enchanted? So thou mayest set thy mind +at rest as to the idea that they are what thou sayest, for they are as +much so as I am a Turk. But touching thy desire to ask me something, say +on, and I will answer thee, though thou shouldst ask questions from this +till to-morrow morning." + +"May Our Lady be good to me!" said Sancho, lifting up his voice; "and is +it possible that your worship is so thick of skull and so short of brains +that you cannot see that what I say is the simple truth, and that malice +has more to do with your imprisonment and misfortune than enchantment? +But as it is so, I will prove plainly to you that you are not enchanted. +Now tell me, so may God deliver you from this affliction, and so may you +find yourself when you least expect it in the arms of my lady Dulcinea-" + +"Leave off conjuring me," said Don Quixote, "and ask what thou wouldst +know; I have already told thee I will answer with all possible +precision." + +"That is what I want," said Sancho; "and what I would know, and have you +tell me, without adding or leaving out anything, but telling the whole +truth as one expects it to be told, and as it is told, by all who profess +arms, as your worship professes them, under the title of knights-errant-" + +"I tell thee I will not lie in any particular," said Don Quixote; "finish +thy question; for in truth thou weariest me with all these asseverations, +requirements, and precautions, Sancho." + +"Well, I rely on the goodness and truth of my master," said Sancho; "and +so, because it bears upon what we are talking about, I would ask, +speaking with all reverence, whether since your worship has been shut up +and, as you think, enchanted in this cage, you have felt any desire or +inclination to go anywhere, as the saying is?" + +"I do not understand 'going anywhere,'" said Don Quixote; "explain +thyself more clearly, Sancho, if thou wouldst have me give an answer to +the point." + +"Is it possible," said Sancho, "that your worship does not understand +'going anywhere'? Why, the schoolboys know that from the time they were +babes. Well then, you must know I mean have you had any desire to do what +cannot be avoided?" + +"Ah! now I understand thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "yes, often, and +even this minute; get me out of this strait, or all will not go right." + +Chapter XLIX. - +Which treats of the shrewd conversation which Sancho Panza held with his +master Don Quixote + +"Aha, I have caught you," said Sancho; "this is what in my heart and soul +I was longing to know. Come now, senor, can you deny what is commonly +said around us, when a person is out of humour, 'I don't know what ails +so-and-so, that he neither eats, nor drinks, nor sleeps, nor gives a +proper answer to any question; one would think he was enchanted'? From +which it is to be gathered that those who do not eat, or drink, or sleep, +or do any of the natural acts I am speaking of-that such persons are +enchanted; but not those that have the desire your worship has, and drink +when drink is given them, and eat when there is anything to eat, and +answer every question that is asked them." + +"What thou sayest is true, Sancho," replied Don Quixote; "but I have +already told thee there are many sorts of enchantments, and it may be +that in the course of time they have been changed one for another, and +that now it may be the way with enchanted people to do all that I do, +though they did not do so before; so it is vain to argue or draw +inferences against the usage of the time. I know and feel that I am +enchanted, and that is enough to ease my conscience; for it would weigh +heavily on it if I thought that I was not enchanted, and that in a +faint-hearted and cowardly way I allowed myself to lie in this cage, +defrauding multitudes of the succour I might afford to those in need and +distress, who at this very moment may be in sore want of my aid and +protection." + +"Still for all that," replied Sancho, "I say that, for your greater and +fuller satisfaction, it would be well if your worship were to try to get +out of this prison (and I promise to do all in my power to help, and even +to take you out of it), and see if you could once more mount your good +Rocinante, who seems to be enchanted too, he is so melancholy and +dejected; and then we might try our chance in looking for adventures +again; and if we have no luck there will be time enough to go back to the +cage; in which, on the faith of a good and loyal squire, I promise to +shut myself up along with your worship, if so be you are so unfortunate, +or I so stupid, as not to be able to carry out my plan." + +"I am content to do as thou sayest, brother Sancho," said Don Quixote, +"and when thou seest an opportunity for effecting my release I will obey +thee absolutely; but thou wilt see, Sancho, how mistaken thou art in thy +conception of my misfortune." + +The knight-errant and the ill-errant squire kept up their conversation +till they reached the place where the curate, the canon, and the barber, +who had already dismounted, were waiting for them. The carter at once +unyoked the oxen and left them to roam at large about the pleasant green +spot, the freshness of which seemed to invite, not enchanted people like +Don Quixote, but wide-awake, sensible folk like his squire, who begged +the curate to allow his master to leave the cage for a little; for if +they did not let him out, the prison might not be as clean as the +propriety of such a gentleman as his master required. The curate +understood him, and said he would very gladly comply with his request, +only that he feared his master, finding himself at liberty, would take to +his old courses and make off where nobody could ever find him again. + +"I will answer for his not running away," said Sancho. + +"And I also," said the canon, "especially if he gives me his word as a +knight not to leave us without our consent." + +Don Quixote, who was listening to all this, said, "I give it;-moreover +one who is enchanted as I am cannot do as he likes with himself; for he +who had enchanted him could prevent his moving from one place for three +ages, and if he attempted to escape would bring him back flying."--And +that being so, they might as well release him, particularly as it would +be to the advantage of all; for, if they did not let him out, he +protested he would be unable to avoid offending their nostrils unless +they kept their distance. + +The canon took his hand, tied together as they both were, and on his word +and promise they unbound him, and rejoiced beyond measure he was to find +himself out of the cage. The first thing he did was to stretch himself +all over, and then he went to where Rocinante was standing and giving him +a couple of slaps on the haunches said, "I still trust in God and in his +blessed mother, O flower and mirror of steeds, that we shall soon see +ourselves, both of us, as we wish to be, thou with thy master on thy +back, and I mounted upon thee, following the calling for which God sent +me into the world." And so saying, accompanied by Sancho, he withdrew to +a retired spot, from which he came back much relieved and more eager than +ever to put his squire's scheme into execution. + +The canon gazed at him, wondering at the extraordinary nature of his +madness, and that in all his remarks and replies he should show such +excellent sense, and only lose his stirrups, as has been already said, +when the subject of chivalry was broached. And so, moved by compassion, +he said to him, as they all sat on the green grass awaiting the arrival +of the provisions: + +"Is it possible, gentle sir, that the nauseous and idle reading of books +of chivalry can have had such an effect on your worship as to upset your +reason so that you fancy yourself enchanted, and the like, all as far +from the truth as falsehood itself is? How can there be any human +understanding that can persuade itself there ever was all that infinity +of Amadises in the world, or all that multitude of famous knights, all +those emperors of Trebizond, all those Felixmartes of Hircania, all those +palfreys, and damsels-errant, and serpents, and monsters, and giants, and +marvellous adventures, and enchantments of every kind, and battles, and +prodigious encounters, splendid costumes, love-sick princesses, squires +made counts, droll dwarfs, love letters, billings and cooings, +swashbuckler women, and, in a word, all that nonsense the books of +chivalry contain? For myself, I can only say that when I read them, so +long as I do not stop to think that they are all lies and frivolity, they +give me a certain amount of pleasure; but when I come to consider what +they are, I fling the very best of them at the wall, and would fling it +into the fire if there were one at hand, as richly deserving such +punishment as cheats and impostors out of the range of ordinary +toleration, and as founders of new sects and modes of life, and teachers +that lead the ignorant public to believe and accept as truth all the +folly they contain. And such is their audacity, they even dare to +unsettle the wits of gentlemen of birth and intelligence, as is shown +plainly by the way they have served your worship, when they have brought +you to such a pass that you have to be shut up in a cage and carried on +an ox-cart as one would carry a lion or a tiger from place to place to +make money by showing it. Come, Senor Don Quixote, have some compassion +for yourself, return to the bosom of common sense, and make use of the +liberal share of it that heaven has been pleased to bestow upon you, +employing your abundant gifts of mind in some other reading that may +serve to benefit your conscience and add to your honour. And if, still +led away by your natural bent, you desire to read books of achievements +and of chivalry, read the Book of Judges in the Holy Scriptures, for +there you will find grand reality, and deeds as true as they are heroic. +Lusitania had a Viriatus, Rome a Caesar, Carthage a Hannibal, Greece an +Alexander, Castile a Count Fernan Gonzalez, Valencia a Cid, Andalusia a +Gonzalo Fernandez, Estremadura a Diego Garcia de Paredes, Jerez a Garci +Perez de Vargas, Toledo a Garcilaso, Seville a Don Manuel de Leon, to +read of whose valiant deeds will entertain and instruct the loftiest +minds and fill them with delight and wonder. Here, Senor Don Quixote, +will be reading worthy of your sound understanding; from which you will +rise learned in history, in love with virtue, strengthened in goodness, +improved in manners, brave without rashness, prudent without cowardice; +and all to the honour of God, your own advantage and the glory of La +Mancha, whence, I am informed, your worship derives your birth." + +Don Quixote listened with the greatest attention to the canon's words, +and when he found he had finished, after regarding him for some time, he +replied to him: + +"It appears to me, gentle sir, that your worship's discourse is intended +to persuade me that there never were any knights-errant in the world, and +that all the books of chivalry are false, lying, mischievous and useless +to the State, and that I have done wrong in reading them, and worse in +believing them, and still worse in imitating them, when I undertook to +follow the arduous calling of knight-errantry which they set forth; for +you deny that there ever were Amadises of Gaul or of Greece, or any other +of the knights of whom the books are full." + +"It is all exactly as you state it," said the canon; to which Don Quixote +returned, "You also went on to say that books of this kind had done me +much harm, inasmuch as they had upset my senses, and shut me up in a +cage, and that it would be better for me to reform and change my studies, +and read other truer books which would afford more pleasure and +instruction." + +"Just so," said the canon. + +"Well then," returned Don Quixote, "to my mind it is you who are the one +that is out of his wits and enchanted, as you have ventured to utter such +blasphemies against a thing so universally acknowledged and accepted as +true that whoever denies it, as you do, deserves the same punishment +which you say you inflict on the books that irritate you when you read +them. For to try to persuade anybody that Amadis, and all the other +knights-adventurers with whom the books are filled, never existed, would +be like trying to persuade him that the sun does not yield light, or ice +cold, or earth nourishment. What wit in the world can persuade another +that the story of the Princess Floripes and Guy of Burgundy is not true, +or that of Fierabras and the bridge of Mantible, which happened in the +time of Charlemagne? For by all that is good it is as true as that it is +daylight now; and if it be a lie, it must be a lie too that there was a +Hector, or Achilles, or Trojan war, or Twelve Peers of France, or Arthur +of England, who still lives changed into a raven, and is unceasingly +looked for in his kingdom. One might just as well try to make out that +the history of Guarino Mezquino, or of the quest of the Holy Grail, is +false, or that the loves of Tristram and the Queen Yseult are apocryphal, +as well as those of Guinevere and Lancelot, when there are persons who +can almost remember having seen the Dame Quintanona, who was the best +cupbearer in Great Britain. And so true is this, that I recollect a +grandmother of mine on the father's side, whenever she saw any dame in a +venerable hood, used to say to me, 'Grandson, that one is like Dame +Quintanona,' from which I conclude that she must have known her, or at +least had managed to see some portrait of her. Then who can deny that the +story of Pierres and the fair Magalona is true, when even to this day may +be seen in the king's armoury the pin with which the valiant Pierres +guided the wooden horse he rode through the air, and it is a trifle +bigger than the pole of a cart? And alongside of the pin is Babieca's +saddle, and at Roncesvalles there is Roland's horn, as large as a large +beam; whence we may infer that there were Twelve Peers, and a Pierres, +and a Cid, and other knights like them, of the sort people commonly call +adventurers. Or perhaps I shall be told, too, that there was no such +knight-errant as the valiant Lusitanian Juan de Merlo, who went to +Burgundy and in the city of Arras fought with the famous lord of Charny, +Mosen Pierres by name, and afterwards in the city of Basle with Mosen +Enrique de Remesten, coming out of both encounters covered with fame and +honour; or adventures and challenges achieved and delivered, also in +Burgundy, by the valiant Spaniards Pedro Barba and Gutierre Quixada (of +whose family I come in the direct male line), when they vanquished the +sons of the Count of San Polo. I shall be told, too, that Don Fernando de +Guevara did not go in quest of adventures to Germany, where he engaged in +combat with Micer George, a knight of the house of the Duke of Austria. I +shall be told that the jousts of Suero de Quinones, him of the 'Paso,' +and the emprise of Mosen Luis de Falces against the Castilian knight, Don +Gonzalo de Guzman, were mere mockeries; as well as many other +achievements of Christian knights of these and foreign realms, which are +so authentic and true, that, I repeat, he who denies them must be totally +wanting in reason and good sense." + +The canon was amazed to hear the medley of truth and fiction Don Quixote +uttered, and to see how well acquainted he was with everything relating +or belonging to the achievements of his knight-errantry; so he said in +reply: + +"I cannot deny, Senor Don Quixote, that there is some truth in what you +say, especially as regards the Spanish knights-errant; and I am willing +to grant too that the Twelve Peers of France existed, but I am not +disposed to believe that they did all the things that the Archbishop +Turpin relates of them. For the truth of the matter is they were knights +chosen by the kings of France, and called 'Peers' because they were all +equal in worth, rank and prowess (at least if they were not they ought to +have been), and it was a kind of religious order like those of Santiago +and Calatrava in the present day, in which it is assumed that those who +take it are valiant knights of distinction and good birth; and just as we +say now a Knight of St. John, or of Alcantara, they used to say then a +Knight of the Twelve Peers, because twelve equals were chosen for that +military order. That there was a Cid, as well as a Bernardo del Carpio, +there can be no doubt; but that they did the deeds people say they did, I +hold to be very doubtful. In that other matter of the pin of Count +Pierres that you speak of, and say is near Babieca's saddle in the +Armoury, I confess my sin; for I am either so stupid or so short-sighted, +that, though I have seen the saddle, I have never been able to see the +pin, in spite of it being as big as your worship says it is." + +"For all that it is there, without any manner of doubt," said Don +Quixote; "and more by token they say it is inclosed in a sheath of +cowhide to keep it from rusting." + +"All that may be," replied the canon; "but, by the orders I have +received, I do not remember seeing it. However, granting it is there, +that is no reason why I am bound to believe the stories of all those +Amadises and of all that multitude of knights they tell us about, nor is +it reasonable that a man like your worship, so worthy, and with so many +good qualities, and endowed with such a good understanding, should allow +himself to be persuaded that such wild crazy things as are written in +those absurd books of chivalry are really true." + +Chapter L. - +Of the shrewd controversy which Don Quixote and the Canon held, together +with other incidents + +"A good joke, that!" returned Don Quixote. "Books that have been printed +with the king's licence, and with the approbation of those to whom they +have been submitted, and read with universal delight, and extolled by +great and small, rich and poor, learned and ignorant, gentle and simple, +in a word by people of every sort, of whatever rank or condition they may +be--that these should be lies! And above all when they carry such an +appearance of truth with them; for they tell us the father, mother, +country, kindred, age, place, and the achievements, step by step, and day +by day, performed by such a knight or knights! Hush, sir; utter not such +blasphemy; trust me I am advising you now to act as a sensible man +should; only read them, and you will see the pleasure you will derive +from them. For, come, tell me, can there be anything more delightful than +to see, as it were, here now displayed before us a vast lake of bubbling +pitch with a host of snakes and serpents and lizards, and ferocious and +terrible creatures of all sorts swimming about in it, while from the +middle of the lake there comes a plaintive voice saying: 'Knight, +whosoever thou art who beholdest this dread lake, if thou wouldst win the +prize that lies hidden beneath these dusky waves, prove the valour of thy +stout heart and cast thyself into the midst of its dark burning waters, +else thou shalt not be worthy to see the mighty wonders contained in the +seven castles of the seven Fays that lie beneath this black expanse;' and +then the knight, almost ere the awful voice has ceased, without stopping +to consider, without pausing to reflect upon the danger to which he is +exposing himself, without even relieving himself of the weight of his +massive armour, commending himself to God and to his lady, plunges into +the midst of the boiling lake, and when he little looks for it, or knows +what his fate is to be, he finds himself among flowery meadows, with +which the Elysian fields are not to be compared. + +"The sky seems more transparent there, and the sun shines with a strange +brilliancy, and a delightful grove of green leafy trees presents itself +to the eyes and charms the sight with its verdure, while the ear is +soothed by the sweet untutored melody of the countless birds of gay +plumage that flit to and fro among the interlacing branches. Here he sees +a brook whose limpid waters, like liquid crystal, ripple over fine sands +and white pebbles that look like sifted gold and purest pearls. There he +perceives a cunningly wrought fountain of many-coloured jasper and +polished marble; here another of rustic fashion where the little +mussel-shells and the spiral white and yellow mansions of the snail +disposed in studious disorder, mingled with fragments of glittering +crystal and mock emeralds, make up a work of varied aspect, where art, +imitating nature, seems to have outdone it. + +"Suddenly there is presented to his sight a strong castle or gorgeous +palace with walls of massy gold, turrets of diamond and gates of jacinth; +in short, so marvellous is its structure that though the materials of +which it is built are nothing less than diamonds, carbuncles, rubies, +pearls, gold, and emeralds, the workmanship is still more rare. And after +having seen all this, what can be more charming than to see how a bevy of +damsels comes forth from the gate of the castle in gay and gorgeous +attire, such that, were I to set myself now to depict it as the histories +describe it to us, I should never have done; and then how she who seems +to be the first among them all takes the bold knight who plunged into the +boiling lake by the hand, and without addressing a word to him leads him +into the rich palace or castle, and strips him as naked as when his +mother bore him, and bathes him in lukewarm water, and anoints him all +over with sweet-smelling unguents, and clothes him in a shirt of the +softest sendal, all scented and perfumed, while another damsel comes and +throws over his shoulders a mantle which is said to be worth at the very +least a city, and even more? How charming it is, then, when they tell us +how, after all this, they lead him to another chamber where he finds the +tables set out in such style that he is filled with amazement and wonder; +to see how they pour out water for his hands distilled from amber and +sweet-scented flowers; how they seat him on an ivory chair; to see how +the damsels wait on him all in profound silence; how they bring him such +a variety of dainties so temptingly prepared that the appetite is at a +loss which to select; to hear the music that resounds while he is at +table, by whom or whence produced he knows not. And then when the repast +is over and the tables removed, for the knight to recline in the chair, +picking his teeth perhaps as usual, and a damsel, much lovelier than any +of the others, to enter unexpectedly by the chamber door, and herself by +his side, and begin to tell him what the castle is, and how she is held +enchanted there, and other things that amaze the knight and astonish the +readers who are perusing his history. + +"But I will not expatiate any further upon this, as it may be gathered +from it that whatever part of whatever history of a knight-errant one +reads, it will fill the reader, whoever he be, with delight and wonder; +and take my advice, sir, and, as I said before, read these books and you +will see how they will banish any melancholy you may feel and raise your +spirits should they be depressed. For myself I can say that since I have +been a knight-errant I have become valiant, polite, generous, well-bred, +magnanimous, courteous, dauntless, gentle, patient, and have learned to +bear hardships, imprisonments, and enchantments; and though it be such a +short time since I have seen myself shut up in a cage like a madman, I +hope by the might of my arm, if heaven aid me and fortune thwart me not, +to see myself king of some kingdom where I may be able to show the +gratitude and generosity that dwell in my heart; for by my faith, senor, +the poor man is incapacitated from showing the virtue of generosity to +anyone, though he may possess it in the highest degree; and gratitude +that consists of disposition only is a dead thing, just as faith without +works is dead. For this reason I should be glad were fortune soon to +offer me some opportunity of making myself an emperor, so as to show my +heart in doing good to my friends, particularly to this poor Sancho +Panza, my squire, who is the best fellow in the world; and I would gladly +give him a county I have promised him this ever so long, only that I am +afraid he has not the capacity to govern his realm." + +Sancho partly heard these last words of his master, and said to him, +"Strive hard you, Senor Don Quixote, to give me that county so often +promised by you and so long looked for by me, for I promise you there +will be no want of capacity in me to govern it; and even if there is, I +have heard say there are men in the world who farm seigniories, paying so +much a year, and they themselves taking charge of the government, while +the lord, with his legs stretched out, enjoys the revenue they pay him, +without troubling himself about anything else. That's what I'll do, and +not stand haggling over trifles, but wash my hands at once of the whole +business, and enjoy my rents like a duke, and let things go their own +way." + +"That, brother Sancho," said the canon, "only holds good as far as the +enjoyment of the revenue goes; but the lord of the seigniory must attend +to the administration of justice, and here capacity and sound judgment +come in, and above all a firm determination to find out the truth; for if +this be wanting in the beginning, the middle and the end will always go +wrong; and God as commonly aids the honest intentions of the simple as he +frustrates the evil designs of the crafty." + +"I don't understand those philosophies," returned Sancho Panza; "all I +know is I would I had the county as soon as I shall know how to govern +it; for I have as much soul as another, and as much body as anyone, and I +shall be as much king of my realm as any other of his; and being so I +should do as I liked, and doing as I liked I should please myself, and +pleasing myself I should be content, and when one is content he has +nothing more to desire, and when one has nothing more to desire there is +an end of it; so let the county come, and God he with you, and let us see +one another, as one blind man said to the other." + +"That is not bad philosophy thou art talking, Sancho," said the canon; +"but for all that there is a good deal to be said on this matter of +counties." + +To which Don Quixote returned, "I know not what more there is to be said; +I only guide myself by the example set me by the great Amadis of Gaul, +when he made his squire count of the Insula Firme; and so, without any +scruples of conscience, I can make a count of Sancho Panza, for he is one +of the best squires that ever knight-errant had." + +The canon was astonished at the methodical nonsense (if nonsense be +capable of method) that Don Quixote uttered, at the way in which he had +described the adventure of the knight of the lake, at the impression that +the deliberate lies of the books he read had made upon him, and lastly he +marvelled at the simplicity of Sancho, who desired so eagerly to obtain +the county his master had promised him. + +By this time the canon's servants, who had gone to the inn to fetch the +sumpter mule, had returned, and making a carpet and the green grass of +the meadow serve as a table, they seated themselves in the shade of some +trees and made their repast there, that the carter might not be deprived +of the advantage of the spot, as has been already said. As they were +eating they suddenly heard a loud noise and the sound of a bell that +seemed to come from among some brambles and thick bushes that were close +by, and the same instant they observed a beautiful goat, spotted all over +black, white, and brown, spring out of the thicket with a goatherd after +it, calling to it and uttering the usual cries to make it stop or turn +back to the fold. The fugitive goat, scared and frightened, ran towards +the company as if seeking their protection and then stood still, and the +goatherd coming up seized it by the horns and began to talk to it as if +it were possessed of reason and understanding: "Ah wanderer, wanderer, +Spotty, Spotty; how have you gone limping all this time? What wolves have +frightened you, my daughter? Won't you tell me what is the matter, my +beauty? But what else can it be except that you are a she, and cannot +keep quiet? A plague on your humours and the humours of those you take +after! Come back, come back, my darling; and if you will not be so happy, +at any rate you will be safe in the fold or with your companions; for if +you who ought to keep and lead them, go wandering astray, what will +become of them?" + +The goatherd's talk amused all who heard it, but especially the canon, +who said to him, "As you live, brother, take it easy, and be not in such +a hurry to drive this goat back to the fold; for, being a female, as you +say, she will follow her natural instinct in spite of all you can do to +prevent it. Take this morsel and drink a sup, and that will soothe your +irritation, and in the meantime the goat will rest herself," and so +saying, he handed him the loins of a cold rabbit on a fork. + +The goatherd took it with thanks, and drank and calmed himself, and then +said, "I should be sorry if your worships were to take me for a simpleton +for having spoken so seriously as I did to this animal; but the truth is +there is a certain mystery in the words I used. I am a clown, but not so +much of one but that I know how to behave to men and to beasts." + +"That I can well believe," said the curate, "for I know already by +experience that the woods breed men of learning, and shepherds' harbour +philosophers." + +"At all events, senor," returned the goatherd, "they shelter men of +experience; and that you may see the truth of this and grasp it, though I +may seem to put myself forward without being asked, I will, if it will +not tire you, gentlemen, and you will give me your attention for a +little, tell you a true story which will confirm this gentleman's word +(and he pointed to the curate) as well as my own." + +To this Don Quixote replied, "Seeing that this affair has a certain +colour of chivalry about it, I for my part, brother, will hear you most +gladly, and so will all these gentlemen, from the high intelligence they +possess and their love of curious novelties that interest, charm, and +entertain the mind, as I feel quite sure your story will do. So begin, +friend, for we are all prepared to listen." + +"I draw my stakes," said Sancho, "and will retreat with this pasty to the +brook there, where I mean to victual myself for three days; for I have +heard my lord, Don Quixote, say that a knight-errant's squire should eat +until he can hold no more, whenever he has the chance, because it often +happens them to get by accident into a wood so thick that they cannot +find a way out of it for six days; and if the man is not well filled or +his alforjas well stored, there he may stay, as very often he does, +turned into a dried mummy." + +"Thou art in the right of it, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "go where thou +wilt and eat all thou canst, for I have had enough, and only want to give +my mind its refreshment, as I shall by listening to this good fellow's +story." + +"It is what we shall all do," said the canon; and then begged the +goatherd to begin the promised tale. + +The goatherd gave the goat which he held by the horns a couple of slaps +on the back, saying, "Lie down here beside me, Spotty, for we have time +enough to return to our fold." The goat seemed to understand him, for as +her master seated himself, she stretched herself quietly beside him and +looked up in his face to show him she was all attention to what he was +going to say, and then in these words he began his story. + +Chapter LI. - +Which deals with what the goatherd told those who were carrying off Don +Quixote + +Three leagues from this valley there is a village which, though small, is +one of the richest in all this neighbourhood, and in it there lived a +farmer, a very worthy man, and so much respected that, although to be so +is the natural consequence of being rich, he was even more respected for +his virtue than for the wealth he had acquired. But what made him still +more fortunate, as he said himself, was having a daughter of such +exceeding beauty, rare intelligence, gracefulness, and virtue, that +everyone who knew her and beheld her marvelled at the extraordinary gifts +with which heaven and nature had endowed her. As a child she was +beautiful, she continued to grow in beauty, and at the age of sixteen she +was most lovely. The fame of her beauty began to spread abroad through +all the villages around--but why do I say the villages around, merely, +when it spread to distant cities, and even made its way into the halls of +royalty and reached the ears of people of every class, who came from all +sides to see her as if to see something rare and curious, or some +wonder-working image? + +Her father watched over her and she watched over herself; for there are +no locks, or guards, or bolts that can protect a young girl better than +her own modesty. The wealth of the father and the beauty of the daughter +led many neighbours as well as strangers to seek her for a wife; but he, +as one might well be who had the disposal of so rich a jewel, was +perplexed and unable to make up his mind to which of her countless +suitors he should entrust her. I was one among the many who felt a desire +so natural, and, as her father knew who I was, and I was of the same +town, of pure blood, in the bloom of life, and very rich in possessions, +I had great hopes of success. There was another of the same place and +qualifications who also sought her, and this made her father's choice +hang in the balance, for he felt that on either of us his daughter would +be well bestowed; so to escape from this state of perplexity he resolved +to refer the matter to Leandra (for that is the name of the rich damsel +who has reduced me to misery), reflecting that as we were both equal it +would be best to leave it to his dear daughter to choose according to her +inclination--a course that is worthy of imitation by all fathers who wish +to settle their children in life. I do not mean that they ought to leave +them to make a choice of what is contemptible and bad, but that they +should place before them what is good and then allow them to make a good +choice as they please. I do not know which Leandra chose; I only know her +father put us both off with the tender age of his daughter and vague +words that neither bound him nor dismissed us. My rival is called Anselmo +and I myself Eugenio--that you may know the names of the personages that +figure in this tragedy, the end of which is still in suspense, though it +is plain to see it must be disastrous. + +About this time there arrived in our town one Vicente de la Roca, the son +of a poor peasant of the same town, the said Vicente having returned from +service as a soldier in Italy and divers other parts. A captain who +chanced to pass that way with his company had carried him off from our +village when he was a boy of about twelve years, and now twelve years +later the young man came back in a soldier's uniform, arrayed in a +thousand colours, and all over glass trinkets and fine steel chains. +To-day he would appear in one gay dress, to-morrow in another; but all +flimsy and gaudy, of little substance and less worth. The peasant folk, +who are naturally malicious, and when they have nothing to do can be +malice itself, remarked all this, and took note of his finery and +jewellery, piece by piece, and discovered that he had three suits of +different colours, with garters and stockings to match; but he made so +many arrangements and combinations out of them, that if they had not +counted them, anyone would have sworn that he had made a display of more +than ten suits of clothes and twenty plumes. Do not look upon all this +that I am telling you about the clothes as uncalled for or spun out, for +they have a great deal to do with the story. He used to seat himself on a +bench under the great poplar in our plaza, and there he would keep us all +hanging open-mouthed on the stories he told us of his exploits. There was +no country on the face of the globe he had not seen, nor battle he had +not been engaged in; he had killed more Moors than there are in Morocco +and Tunis, and fought more single combats, according to his own account, +than Garcilaso, Diego Garcia de Paredes and a thousand others he named, +and out of all he had come victorious without losing a drop of blood. On +the other hand he showed marks of wounds, which, though they could not be +made out, he said were gunshot wounds received in divers encounters and +actions. Lastly, with monstrous impudence he used to say "you" to his +equals and even those who knew what he was, and declare that his arm was +his father and his deeds his pedigree, and that being a soldier he was as +good as the king himself. And to add to these swaggering ways he was a +trifle of a musician, and played the guitar with such a flourish that +some said he made it speak; nor did his accomplishments end here, for he +was something of a poet too, and on every trifle that happened in the +town he made a ballad a league long. + +This soldier, then, that I have described, this Vicente de la Roca, this +bravo, gallant, musician, poet, was often seen and watched by Leandra +from a window of her house which looked out on the plaza. The glitter of +his showy attire took her fancy, his ballads bewitched her (for he gave +away twenty copies of every one he made), the tales of his exploits which +he told about himself came to her ears; and in short, as the devil no +doubt had arranged it, she fell in love with him before the presumption +of making love to her had suggested itself to him; and as in love-affairs +none are more easily brought to an issue than those which have the +inclination of the lady for an ally, Leandra and Vicente came to an +understanding without any difficulty; and before any of her numerous +suitors had any suspicion of her design, she had already carried it into +effect, having left the house of her dearly beloved father (for mother +she had none), and disappeared from the village with the soldier, who +came more triumphantly out of this enterprise than out of any of the +large number he laid claim to. All the village and all who heard of it +were amazed at the affair; I was aghast, Anselmo thunderstruck, her +father full of grief, her relations indignant, the authorities all in a +ferment, the officers of the Brotherhood in arms. They scoured the roads, +they searched the woods and all quarters, and at the end of three days +they found the flighty Leandra in a mountain cave, stript to her shift, +and robbed of all the money and precious jewels she had carried away from +home with her. + +They brought her back to her unhappy father, and questioned her as to her +misfortune, and she confessed without pressure that Vicente de la Roca +had deceived her, and under promise of marrying her had induced her to +leave her father's house, as he meant to take her to the richest and most +delightful city in the whole world, which was Naples; and that she, +ill-advised and deluded, had believed him, and robbed her father, and +handed over all to him the night she disappeared; and that he had carried +her away to a rugged mountain and shut her up in the eave where they had +found her. She said, moreover, that the soldier, without robbing her of +her honour, had taken from her everything she had, and made off, leaving +her in the cave, a thing that still further surprised everybody. It was +not easy for us to credit the young man's continence, but she asserted it +with such earnestness that it helped to console her distressed father, +who thought nothing of what had been taken since the jewel that once lost +can never be recovered had been left to his daughter. The same day that +Leandra made her appearance her father removed her from our sight and +took her away to shut her up in a convent in a town near this, in the +hope that time may wear away some of the disgrace she has incurred. +Leandra's youth furnished an excuse for her fault, at least with those to +whom it was of no consequence whether she was good or bad; but those who +knew her shrewdness and intelligence did not attribute her misdemeanour +to ignorance but to wantonness and the natural disposition of women, +which is for the most part flighty and ill-regulated. + +Leandra withdrawn from sight, Anselmo's eyes grew blind, or at any rate +found nothing to look at that gave them any pleasure, and mine were in +darkness without a ray of light to direct them to anything enjoyable +while Leandra was away. Our melancholy grew greater, our patience grew +less; we cursed the soldier's finery and railed at the carelessness of +Leandra's father. At last Anselmo and I agreed to leave the village and +come to this valley; and, he feeding a great flock of sheep of his own, +and I a large herd of goats of mine, we pass our life among the trees, +giving vent to our sorrows, together singing the fair Leandra's praises, +or upbraiding her, or else sighing alone, and to heaven pouring forth our +complaints in solitude. Following our example, many more of Leandra's +lovers have come to these rude mountains and adopted our mode of life, +and they are so numerous that one would fancy the place had been turned +into the pastoral Arcadia, so full is it of shepherds and sheep-folds; +nor is there a spot in it where the name of the fair Leandra is not +heard. Here one curses her and calls her capricious, fickle, and +immodest, there another condemns her as frail and frivolous; this pardons +and absolves her, that spurns and reviles her; one extols her beauty, +another assails her character, and in short all abuse her, and all adore +her, and to such a pitch has this general infatuation gone that there are +some who complain of her scorn without ever having exchanged a word with +her, and even some that bewail and mourn the raging fever of jealousy, +for which she never gave anyone cause, for, as I have already said, her +misconduct was known before her passion. There is no nook among the +rocks, no brookside, no shade beneath the trees that is not haunted by +some shepherd telling his woes to the breezes; wherever there is an echo +it repeats the name of Leandra; the mountains ring with "Leandra," +"Leandra" murmur the brooks, and Leandra keeps us all bewildered and +bewitched, hoping without hope and fearing without knowing what we fear. +Of all this silly set the one that shows the least and also the most +sense is my rival Anselmo, for having so many other things to complain +of, he only complains of separation, and to the accompaniment of a +rebeck, which he plays admirably, he sings his complaints in verses that +show his ingenuity. I follow another, easier, and to my mind wiser +course, and that is to rail at the frivolity of women, at their +inconstancy, their double dealing, their broken promises, their unkept +pledges, and in short the want of reflection they show in fixing their +affections and inclinations. This, sirs, was the reason of words and +expressions I made use of to this goat when I came up just now; for as +she is a female I have a contempt for her, though she is the best in all +my fold. This is the story I promised to tell you, and if I have been +tedious in telling it, I will not be slow to serve you; my hut is close +by, and I have fresh milk and dainty cheese there, as well as a variety +of toothsome fruit, no less pleasing to the eye than to the palate. + +Chapter LII. - +Of the quarrel that don quixote had with the goatherd, together with the +rare adventure of the penitents, which with an expenditure of sweat he +brought to a happy conclusion + +The goatherd's tale gave great satisfaction to all the hearers, and the +canon especially enjoyed it, for he had remarked with particular +attention the manner in which it had been told, which was as unlike the +manner of a clownish goatherd as it was like that of a polished city wit; +and he observed that the curate had been quite right in saying that the +woods bred men of learning. They all offered their services to Eugenio +but he who showed himself most liberal in this way was Don Quixote, who +said to him, "Most assuredly, brother goatherd, if I found myself in a +position to attempt any adventure, I would, this very instant, set out on +your behalf, and would rescue Leandra from that convent (where no doubt +she is kept against her will), in spite of the abbess and all who might +try to prevent me, and would place her in your hands to deal with her +according to your will and pleasure, observing, however, the laws of +chivalry which lay down that no violence of any kind is to be offered to +any damsel. But I trust in God our Lord that the might of one malignant +enchanter may not prove so great but that the power of another better +disposed may prove superior to it, and then I promise you my support and +assistance, as I am bound to do by my profession, which is none other +than to give aid to the weak and needy." + +The goatherd eyed him, and noticing Don Quixote's sorry appearance and +looks, he was filled with wonder, and asked the barber, who was next him, +"Senor, who is this man who makes such a figure and talks in such a +strain?" + +"Who should it be," said the barber, "but the famous Don Quixote of La +Mancha, the undoer of injustice, the righter of wrongs, the protector of +damsels, the terror of giants, and the winner of battles?" + +"That," said the goatherd, "sounds like what one reads in the books of +the knights-errant, who did all that you say this man does; though it is +my belief that either you are joking, or else this gentleman has empty +lodgings in his head." + +"You are a great scoundrel," said Don Quixote, "and it is you who are +empty and a fool. I am fuller than ever was the whoreson bitch that bore +you;" and passing from words to deeds, he caught up a loaf that was near +him and sent it full in the goatherd's face, with such force that he +flattened his nose; but the goatherd, who did not understand jokes, and +found himself roughly handled in such good earnest, paying no respect to +carpet, tablecloth, or diners, sprang upon Don Quixote, and seizing him +by the throat with both hands would no doubt have throttled him, had not +Sancho Panza that instant come to the rescue, and grasping him by the +shoulders flung him down on the table, smashing plates, breaking glasses, +and upsetting and scattering everything on it. Don Quixote, finding +himself free, strove to get on top of the goatherd, who, with his face +covered with blood, and soundly kicked by Sancho, was on all fours +feeling about for one of the table-knives to take a bloody revenge with. +The canon and the curate, however, prevented him, but the barber so +contrived it that he got Don Quixote under him, and rained down upon him +such a shower of fisticuffs that the poor knight's face streamed with +blood as freely as his own. The canon and the curate were bursting with +laughter, the officers were capering with delight, and both the one and +the other hissed them on as they do dogs that are worrying one another in +a fight. Sancho alone was frantic, for he could not free himself from the +grasp of one of the canon's servants, who kept him from going to his +master's assistance. + +At last, while they were all, with the exception of the two bruisers who +were mauling each other, in high glee and enjoyment, they heard a trumpet +sound a note so doleful that it made them all look in the direction +whence the sound seemed to come. But the one that was most excited by +hearing it was Don Quixote, who though sorely against his will he was +under the goatherd, and something more than pretty well pummelled, said +to him, "Brother devil (for it is impossible but that thou must be one +since thou hast had might and strength enough to overcome mine), I ask +thee to agree to a truce for but one hour for the solemn note of yonder +trumpet that falls on our ears seems to me to summon me to some new +adventure." The goatherd, who was by this time tired of pummelling and +being pummelled, released him at once, and Don Quixote rising to his feet +and turning his eyes to the quarter where the sound had been heard, +suddenly saw coming down the slope of a hill several men clad in white +like penitents. + +The fact was that the clouds had that year withheld their moisture from +the earth, and in all the villages of the district they were organising +processions, rogations, and penances, imploring God to open the hands of +his mercy and send the rain; and to this end the people of a village that +was hard by were going in procession to a holy hermitage there was on one +side of that valley. Don Quixote when he saw the strange garb of the +penitents, without reflecting how often he had seen it before, took it +into his head that this was a case of adventure, and that it fell to him +alone as a knight-errant to engage in it; and he was all the more +confirmed in this notion, by the idea that an image draped in black they +had with them was some illustrious lady that these villains and +discourteous thieves were carrying off by force. As soon as this occurred +to him he ran with all speed to Rocinante who was grazing at large, and +taking the bridle and the buckler from the saddle-bow, he had him bridled +in an instant, and calling to Sancho for his sword he mounted Rocinante, +braced his buckler on his arm, and in a loud voice exclaimed to those who +stood by, "Now, noble company, ye shall see how important it is that +there should be knights in the world professing the of knight-errantry; +now, I say, ye shall see, by the deliverance of that worthy lady who is +borne captive there, whether knights-errant deserve to be held in +estimation," and so saying he brought his legs to bear on Rocinante--for +he had no spurs--and at a full canter (for in all this veracious history +we never read of Rocinante fairly galloping) set off to encounter the +penitents, though the curate, the canon, and the barber ran to prevent +him. But it was out of their power, nor did he even stop for the shouts +of Sancho calling after him, "Where are you going, Senor Don Quixote? +What devils have possessed you to set you on against our Catholic faith? +Plague take me! mind, that is a procession of penitents, and the lady +they are carrying on that stand there is the blessed image of the +immaculate Virgin. Take care what you are doing, senor, for this time it +may be safely said you don't know what you are about." Sancho laboured in +vain, for his master was so bent on coming to quarters with these sheeted +figures and releasing the lady in black that he did not hear a word; and +even had he heard, he would not have turned back if the king had ordered +him. He came up with the procession and reined in Rocinante, who was +already anxious enough to slacken speed a little, and in a hoarse, +excited voice he exclaimed, "You who hide your faces, perhaps because you +are not good subjects, pay attention and listen to what I am about to say +to you." The first to halt were those who were carrying the image, and +one of the four ecclesiastics who were chanting the Litany, struck by the +strange figure of Don Quixote, the leanness of Rocinante, and the other +ludicrous peculiarities he observed, said in reply to him, "Brother, if +you have anything to say to us say it quickly, for these brethren are +whipping themselves, and we cannot stop, nor is it reasonable we should +stop to hear anything, unless indeed it is short enough to be said in two +words." + +"I will say it in one," replied Don Quixote, "and it is this; that at +once, this very instant, ye release that fair lady whose tears and sad +aspect show plainly that ye are carrying her off against her will, and +that ye have committed some scandalous outrage against her; and I, who +was born into the world to redress all such like wrongs, will not permit +you to advance another step until you have restored to her the liberty +she pines for and deserves." + +From these words all the hearers concluded that he must be a madman, and +began to laugh heartily, and their laughter acted like gunpowder on Don +Quixote's fury, for drawing his sword without another word he made a rush +at the stand. One of those who supported it, leaving the burden to his +comrades, advanced to meet him, flourishing a forked stick that he had +for propping up the stand when resting, and with this he caught a mighty +cut Don Quixote made at him that severed it in two; but with the portion +that remained in his hand he dealt such a thwack on the shoulder of Don +Quixote's sword arm (which the buckler could not protect against the +clownish assault) that poor Don Quixote came to the ground in a sad +plight. + +Sancho Panza, who was coming on close behind puffing and blowing, seeing +him fall, cried out to his assailant not to strike him again, for he was +poor enchanted knight, who had never harmed anyone all the days of his +life; but what checked the clown was, not Sancho's shouting, but seeing +that Don Quixote did not stir hand or foot; and so, fancying he had +killed him, he hastily hitched up his tunic under his girdle and took to +his heels across the country like a deer. + +By this time all Don Quixote's companions had come up to where he lay; +but the processionists seeing them come running, and with them the +officers of the Brotherhood with their crossbows, apprehended mischief, +and clustering round the image, raised their hoods, and grasped their +scourges, as the priests did their tapers, and awaited the attack, +resolved to defend themselves and even to take the offensive against +their assailants if they could. Fortune, however, arranged the matter +better than they expected, for all Sancho did was to fling himself on his +master's body, raising over him the most doleful and laughable +lamentation that ever was heard, for he believed he was dead. The curate +was known to another curate who walked in the procession, and their +recognition of one another set at rest the apprehensions of both parties; +the first then told the other in two words who Don Quixote was, and he +and the whole troop of penitents went to see if the poor gentleman was +dead, and heard Sancho Panza saying, with tears in his eyes, "Oh flower +of chivalry, that with one blow of a stick hast ended the course of thy +well-spent life! Oh pride of thy race, honour and glory of all La Mancha, +nay, of all the world, that for want of thee will be full of evil-doers, +no longer in fear of punishment for their misdeeds! Oh thou, generous +above all the Alexanders, since for only eight months of service thou +hast given me the best island the sea girds or surrounds! Humble with the +proud, haughty with the humble, encounterer of dangers, endurer of +outrages, enamoured without reason, imitator of the good, scourge of the +wicked, enemy of the mean, in short, knight-errant, which is all that can +be said!" + +At the cries and moans of Sancho, Don Quixote came to himself, and the +first word he said was, "He who lives separated from you, sweetest +Dulcinea, has greater miseries to endure than these. Aid me, friend +Sancho, to mount the enchanted cart, for I am not in a condition to press +the saddle of Rocinante, as this shoulder is all knocked to pieces." + +"That I will do with all my heart, senor," said Sancho; "and let us +return to our village with these gentlemen, who seek your good, and there +we will prepare for making another sally, which may turn out more +profitable and creditable to us." + +"Thou art right, Sancho," returned Don Quixote; "It will be wise to let +the malign influence of the stars which now prevails pass off." + +The canon, the curate, and the barber told him he would act very wisely +in doing as he said; and so, highly amused at Sancho Panza's +simplicities, they placed Don Quixote in the cart as before. The +procession once more formed itself in order and proceeded on its road; +the goatherd took his leave of the party; the officers of the Brotherhood +declined to go any farther, and the curate paid them what was due to +them; the canon begged the curate to let him know how Don Quixote did, +whether he was cured of his madness or still suffered from it, and then +begged leave to continue his journey; in short, they all separated and +went their ways, leaving to themselves the curate and the barber, Don +Quixote, Sancho Panza, and the good Rocinante, who regarded everything +with as great resignation as his master. The carter yoked his oxen and +made Don Quixote comfortable on a truss of hay, and at his usual +deliberate pace took the road the curate directed, and at the end of six +days they reached Don Quixote's village, and entered it about the middle +of the day, which it so happened was a Sunday, and the people were all in +the plaza, through which Don Quixote's cart passed. They all flocked to +see what was in the cart, and when they recognised their townsman they +were filled with amazement, and a boy ran off to bring the news to his +housekeeper and his niece that their master and uncle had come back all +lean and yellow and stretched on a truss of hay on an ox-cart. It was +piteous to hear the cries the two good ladies raised, how they beat their +breasts and poured out fresh maledictions on those accursed books of +chivalry; all which was renewed when they saw Don Quixote coming in at +the gate. + +At the news of Don Quixote's arrival Sancho Panza's wife came running, +for she by this time knew that her husband had gone away with him as his +squire, and on seeing Sancho, the first thing she asked him was if the +ass was well. Sancho replied that he was, better than his master was. + +"Thanks be to God," said she, "for being so good to me; but now tell me, +my friend, what have you made by your squirings? What gown have you +brought me back? What shoes for your children?" + +"I bring nothing of that sort, wife," said Sancho; "though I bring other +things of more consequence and value." + +"I am very glad of that," returned his wife; "show me these things of +more value and consequence, my friend; for I want to see them to cheer my +heart that has been so sad and heavy all these ages that you have been +away." + +"I will show them to you at home, wife," said Sancho; "be content for the +present; for if it please God that we should again go on our travels in +search of adventures, you will soon see me a count, or governor of an +island, and that not one of those everyday ones, but the best that is to +be had." + +"Heaven grant it, husband," said she, "for indeed we have need of it. But +tell me, what's this about islands, for I don't understand it?" + +"Honey is not for the mouth of the ass," returned Sancho; "all in good +time thou shalt see, wife--nay, thou wilt be surprised to hear thyself +called 'your ladyship' by all thy vassals." + +"What are you talking about, Sancho, with your ladyships, islands, and +vassals?" returned Teresa Panza--for so Sancho's wife was called, though +they were not relations, for in La Mancha it is customary for wives to +take their husbands' surnames. + +"Don't be in such a hurry to know all this, Teresa," said Sancho; "it is +enough that I am telling you the truth, so shut your mouth. But I may +tell you this much by the way, that there is nothing in the world more +delightful than to be a person of consideration, squire to a +knight-errant, and a seeker of adventures. To be sure most of those one +finds do not end as pleasantly as one could wish, for out of a hundred, +ninety-nine will turn out cross and contrary. I know it by experience, +for out of some I came blanketed, and out of others belaboured. Still, +for all that, it is a fine thing to be on the look-out for what may +happen, crossing mountains, searching woods, climbing rocks, visiting +castles, putting up at inns, all at free quarters, and devil take the +maravedi to pay." + +While this conversation passed between Sancho Panza and his wife, Don +Quixote's housekeeper and niece took him in and undressed him and laid +him in his old bed. He eyed them askance, and could not make out where he +was. The curate charged his niece to be very careful to make her uncle +comfortable and to keep a watch over him lest he should make his escape +from them again, telling her what they had been obliged to do to bring +him home. On this the pair once more lifted up their voices and renewed +their maledictions upon the books of chivalry, and implored heaven to +plunge the authors of such lies and nonsense into the midst of the +bottomless pit. They were, in short, kept in anxiety and dread lest their +uncle and master should give them the slip the moment he found himself +somewhat better, and as they feared so it fell out. + +But the author of this history, though he has devoted research and +industry to the discovery of the deeds achieved by Don Quixote in his +third sally, has been unable to obtain any information respecting them, +at any rate derived from authentic documents; tradition has merely +preserved in the memory of La Mancha the fact that Don Quixote, the third +time he sallied forth from his home, betook himself to Saragossa, where +he was present at some famous jousts which came off in that city, and +that he had adventures there worthy of his valour and high intelligence. +Of his end and death he could learn no particulars, nor would he have +ascertained it or known of it, if good fortune had not produced an old +physician for him who had in his possession a leaden box, which, +according to his account, had been discovered among the crumbling +foundations of an ancient hermitage that was being rebuilt; in which box +were found certain parchment manuscripts in Gothic character, but in +Castilian verse, containing many of his achievements, and setting forth +the beauty of Dulcinea, the form of Rocinante, the fidelity of Sancho +Panza, and the burial of Don Quixote himself, together with sundry +epitaphs and eulogies on his life and character; but all that could be +read and deciphered were those which the trustworthy author of this new +and unparalleled history here presents. And the said author asks of those +that shall read it nothing in return for the vast toil which it has cost +him in examining and searching the Manchegan archives in order to bring +it to light, save that they give him the same credit that people of sense +give to the books of chivalry that pervade the world and are so popular; +for with this he will consider himself amply paid and fully satisfied, +and will be encouraged to seek out and produce other histories, if not as +truthful, at least equal in invention and not less entertaining. The +first words written on the parchment found in the leaden box were these: + +poem{ + + THE ACADEMICIANS OF + ARGAMASILLA, A VILLAGE OF + LA MANCHA, + ON THE LIFE AND DEATH + OF DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA, + HOC SCRIPSERUNT +MONICONGO, ACADEMICIAN OF ARGAMASILLA, + +ON THE TOMB OF DON QUIXOTE +EPITAPH + +}poem + +poem{ + +The scatterbrain that gave La Mancha more + Rich spoils than Jason's; who a point so keen + Had to his wit, and happier far had been +If his wit's weathercock a blunter bore; +The arm renowned far as Gaeta's shore, + Cathay, and all the lands that lie between; + The muse discreet and terrible in mien +As ever wrote on brass in days of yore; +He who surpassed the Amadises all, + And who as naught the Galaors accounted, + Supported by his love and gallantry: +Who made the Belianises sing small, + And sought renown on Rocinante mounted; + Here, underneath this cold stone, doth he lie. + +}poem + +PANIAGUADO, +ACADEMICIAN OF ARGAMASILLA, +IN LAUDEM DULCINEAE DEL TOBOSO + +poem{ + +SONNET + +She, whose full features may be here descried, + High-bosomed, with a bearing of disdain, + Is Dulcinea, she for whom in vain +The great Don Quixote of La Mancha sighed. +For her, Toboso's queen, from side to side + He traversed the grim sierra, the champaign + Of Aranjuez, and Montiel's famous plain: +On Rocinante oft a weary ride. +Malignant planets, cruel destiny, + Pursued them both, the fair Manchegan dame, +And the unconquered star of chivalry. + Nor youth nor beauty saved her from the claim +Of death; he paid love's bitter penalty, + And left the marble to preserve his name. + +}poem + +CAPRICHOSO, A MOST ACUTE ACADEMICIAN +OF ARGAMASILLA, IN PRAISE OF ROCINANTE, +STEED OF DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA + +poem{ + +SONNET + +On that proud throne of diamantine sheen, + Which the blood-reeking feet of Mars degrade, +The mad Manchegan's banner now hath been + By him in all its bravery displayed. + There hath he hung his arms and trenchant blade +Wherewith, achieving deeds till now unseen, + He slays, lays low, cleaves, hews; but art hath made +A novel style for our new paladin. +If Amadis be the proud boast of Gaul, + If by his progeny the fame of Greece + Through all the regions of the earth be spread, +Great Quixote crowned in grim Bellona's hall + To-day exalts La Mancha over these, + And above Greece or Gaul she holds her head. +Nor ends his glory here, for his good steed +Doth Brillador and Bayard far exceed; +As mettled steeds compared with Rocinante, +The reputation they have won is scanty. + +}poem + +BURLADOR, ACADEMICIAN OF ARGAMASILLA, +ON SANCHO PANZA + +poem{ + +SONNET + + The worthy Sancho Panza here you see; + A great soul once was in that body small, + Nor was there squire upon this earthly ball +So plain and simple, or of guile so free. +Within an ace of being Count was he, + And would have been but for the spite and gall + Of this vile age, mean and illiberal, +That cannot even let a donkey be. +For mounted on an ass (excuse the word), + By Rocinante's side this gentle squire + Was wont his wandering master to attend. +Delusive hopes that lure the common herd + With promises of ease, the heart's desire, + In shadows, dreams, and smoke ye always end. + +}poem + +CACHIDIABLO, +ACADEMICIAN OF ARGAMASILLA, +ON THE TOMB OF DON QUIXOTE +EPITAPH + +poem{ + +The knight lies here below, + Ill-errant and bruised sore, + Whom Rocinante bore +In his wanderings to and fro. +By the side of the knight is laid + Stolid man Sancho too, + Than whom a squire more true +Was not in the esquire trade. + +}poem + + TIQUITOC, + ACADEMICIAN OF ARGAMASILLA, +ON THE TOMB OF DULCINEA DEL TOBOSO + +poem{ + + EPITAPH +Here Dulcinea lies. + Plump was she and robust: + Now she is ashes and dust: +The end of all flesh that dies. +A lady of high degree, + With the port of a lofty dame, + And the great Don Quixote's flame, +And the pride of her village was she. + +}poem + +These were all the verses that could be deciphered; the rest, the writing +being worm-eaten, were handed over to one of the Academicians to make out +their meaning conjecturally. We have been informed that at the cost of +many sleepless nights and much toil he has succeeded, and that he means +to publish them in hopes of Don Quixote's third sally. + +"Forse altro cantera con miglior plectro." + +END OF PART I. + +DON QUIXOTE + +PART II. - +DON QUIXOTE Volume II. Complete by Miguel de Cervantes Translated by John Ormsby + +1~ DEDICATION OF PART II. + +TO THE COUNT OF LEMOS: + +These days past, when sending Your Excellency my plays, that had appeared +in print before being shown on the stage, I said, if I remember well, +that Don Quixote was putting on his spurs to go and render homage to Your +Excellency. Now I say that "with his spurs, he is on his way." Should he +reach destination methinks I shall have rendered some service to Your +Excellency, as from many parts I am urged to send him off, so as to +dispel the loathing and disgust caused by another Don Quixote who, under +the name of Second Part, has run masquerading through the whole world. +And he who has shown the greatest longing for him has been the great +Emperor of China, who wrote me a letter in Chinese a month ago and sent +it by a special courier. He asked me, or to be truthful, he begged me to +send him Don Quixote, for he intended to found a college where the +Spanish tongue would be taught, and it was his wish that the book to be +read should be the History of Don Quixote. He also added that I should go +and be the rector of this college. I asked the bearer if His Majesty had +afforded a sum in aid of my travel expenses. He answered, "No, not even +in thought." + +"Then, brother," I replied, "you can return to your China, post haste or +at whatever haste you are bound to go, as I am not fit for so long a +travel and, besides being ill, I am very much without money, while +Emperor for Emperor and Monarch for Monarch, I have at Naples the great +Count of Lemos, who, without so many petty titles of colleges and +rectorships, sustains me, protects me and does me more favour than I can +wish for." + +Thus I gave him his leave and I beg mine from you, offering Your +Excellency the "Trabajos de Persiles y Sigismunda," a book I shall finish +within four months, Deo volente, and which will be either the worst or +the best that has been composed in our language, I mean of those intended +for entertainment; at which I repent of having called it the worst, for, +in the opinion of friends, it is bound to attain the summit of possible +quality. May Your Excellency return in such health that is wished you; +Persiles will be ready to kiss your hand and I your feet, being as I am, +Your Excellency's most humble servant. + +From Madrid, this last day of October of the year one thousand six +hundred and fifteen. + +At the service of Your Excellency: + +MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA + +VOLUME II. +THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE + +God bless me, gentle (or it may be plebeian) reader, how eagerly must +thou be looking forward to this preface, expecting to find there +retaliation, scolding, and abuse against the author of the second Don +Quixote--I mean him who was, they say, begotten at Tordesillas and born +at Tarragona! Well then, the truth is, I am not going to give thee that +satisfaction; for, though injuries stir up anger in humbler breasts, in +mine the rule must admit of an exception. Thou wouldst have me call him +ass, fool, and malapert, but I have no such intention; let his offence be +his punishment, with his bread let him eat it, and there's an end of it. +What I cannot help taking amiss is that he charges me with being old and +one-handed, as if it had been in my power to keep time from passing over +me, or as if the loss of my hand had been brought about in some tavern, +and not on the grandest occasion the past or present has seen, or the +future can hope to see. If my wounds have no beauty to the beholder's +eye, they are, at least, honourable in the estimation of those who know +where they were received; for the soldier shows to greater advantage dead +in battle than alive in flight; and so strongly is this my feeling, that +if now it were proposed to perform an impossibility for me, I would +rather have had my share in that mighty action, than be free from my +wounds this minute without having been present at it. Those the soldier +shows on his face and breast are stars that direct others to the heaven +of honour and ambition of merited praise; and moreover it is to be +observed that it is not with grey hairs that one writes, but with the +understanding, and that commonly improves with years. I take it amiss, +too, that he calls me envious, and explains to me, as if I were ignorant, +what envy is; for really and truly, of the two kinds there are, I only +know that which is holy, noble, and high-minded; and if that be so, as it +is, I am not likely to attack a priest, above all if, in addition, he +holds the rank of familiar of the Holy Office. And if he said what he did +on account of him on whose behalf it seems he spoke, he is entirely +mistaken; for I worship the genius of that person, and admire his works +and his unceasing and strenuous industry. After all, I am grateful to +this gentleman, the author, for saying that my novels are more satirical +than exemplary, but that they are good; for they could not be that unless +there was a little of everything in them. + +I suspect thou wilt say that I am taking a very humble line, and keeping +myself too much within the bounds of my moderation, from a feeling that +additional suffering should not be inflicted upon a sufferer, and that +what this gentleman has to endure must doubtless be very great, as he +does not dare to come out into the open field and broad daylight, but +hides his name and disguises his country as if he had been guilty of some +lese majesty. If perchance thou shouldst come to know him, tell him from +me that I do not hold myself aggrieved; for I know well what the +temptations of the devil are, and that one of the greatest is putting it +into a man's head that he can write and print a book by which he will get +as much fame as money, and as much money as fame; and to prove it I will +beg of you, in your own sprightly, pleasant way, to tell him this story. + +There was a madman in Seville who took to one of the drollest absurdities +and vagaries that ever madman in the world gave way to. It was this: he +made a tube of reed sharp at one end, and catching a dog in the street, +or wherever it might be, he with his foot held one of its legs fast, and +with his hand lifted up the other, and as best he could fixed the tube +where, by blowing, he made the dog as round as a ball; then holding it in +this position, he gave it a couple of slaps on the belly, and let it go, +saying to the bystanders (and there were always plenty of them): "Do your +worships think, now, that it is an easy thing to blow up a dog?"--Does +your worship think now, that it is an easy thing to write a book? + +And if this story does not suit him, you may, dear reader, tell him this +one, which is likewise of a madman and a dog. + +In Cordova there was another madman, whose way it was to carry a piece of +marble slab or a stone, not of the lightest, on his head, and when he +came upon any unwary dog he used to draw close to him and let the weight +fall right on top of him; on which the dog in a rage, barking and +howling, would run three streets without stopping. It so happened, +however, that one of the dogs he discharged his load upon was a +cap-maker's dog, of which his master was very fond. The stone came down +hitting it on the head, the dog raised a yell at the blow, the master saw +the affair and was wroth, and snatching up a measuring-yard rushed out at +the madman and did not leave a sound bone in his body, and at every +stroke he gave him he said, "You dog, you thief! my lurcher! Don't you +see, you brute, that my dog is a lurcher?" and so, repeating the word +"lurcher" again and again, he sent the madman away beaten to a jelly. The +madman took the lesson to heart, and vanished, and for more than a month +never once showed himself in public; but after that he came out again +with his old trick and a heavier load than ever. He came up to where +there was a dog, and examining it very carefully without venturing to let +the stone fall, he said: "This is a lurcher; ware!" In short, all the +dogs he came across, be they mastiffs or terriers, he said were lurchers; +and he discharged no more stones. Maybe it will be the same with this +historian; that he will not venture another time to discharge the weight +of his wit in books, which, being bad, are harder than stones. Tell him, +too, that I do not care a farthing for the threat he holds out to me of +depriving me of my profit by means of his book; for, to borrow from the +famous interlude of "The Perendenga," I say in answer to him, "Long life +to my lord the Veintiquatro, and Christ be with us all." Long life to the +great Conde de Lemos, whose Christian charity and well-known generosity +support me against all the strokes of my curst fortune; and long life to +the supreme benevolence of His Eminence of Toledo, Don Bernardo de +Sandoval y Rojas; and what matter if there be no printing-presses in the +world, or if they print more books against me than there are letters in +the verses of Mingo Revulgo! These two princes, unsought by any adulation +or flattery of mine, of their own goodness alone, have taken it upon them +to show me kindness and protect me, and in this I consider myself happier +and richer than if Fortune had raised me to her greatest height in the +ordinary way. The poor man may retain honour, but not the vicious; +poverty may cast a cloud over nobility, but cannot hide it altogether; +and as virtue of itself sheds a certain light, even though it be through +the straits and chinks of penury, it wins the esteem of lofty and noble +spirits, and in consequence their protection. Thou needst say no more to +him, nor will I say anything more to thee, save to tell thee to bear in +mind that this Second Part of "Don Quixote" which I offer thee is cut by +the same craftsman and from the same cloth as the First, and that in it I +present thee Don Quixote continued, and at length dead and buried, so +that no one may dare to bring forward any further evidence against him, +for that already produced is sufficient; and suffice it, too, that some +reputable person should have given an account of all these shrewd +lunacies of his without going into the matter again; for abundance, even +of good things, prevents them from being valued; and scarcity, even in +the case of what is bad, confers a certain value. I was forgetting to +tell thee that thou mayest expect the "Persiles," which I am now +finishing, and also the Second Part of "Galatea." + +Chapter I. - +Of the interview the curate and the barber had with Don Quixote about his +malady + +Cide Hamete Benengeli, in the Second Part of this history, and third +sally of Don Quixote, says that the curate and the barber remained nearly +a month without seeing him, lest they should recall or bring back to his +recollection what had taken place. They did not, however, omit to visit +his niece and housekeeper, and charge them to be careful to treat him +with attention, and give him comforting things to eat, and such as were +good for the heart and the brain, whence, it was plain to see, all his +misfortune proceeded. The niece and housekeeper replied that they did so, +and meant to do so with all possible care and assiduity, for they could +perceive that their master was now and then beginning to show signs of +being in his right mind. This gave great satisfaction to the curate and +the barber, for they concluded they had taken the right course in +carrying him off enchanted on the ox-cart, as has been described in the +First Part of this great as well as accurate history, in the last chapter +thereof. So they resolved to pay him a visit and test the improvement in +his condition, although they thought it almost impossible that there +could be any; and they agreed not to touch upon any point connected with +knight-errantry so as not to run the risk of reopening wounds which were +still so tender. + +They came to see him consequently, and found him sitting up in bed in a +green baize waistcoat and a red Toledo cap, and so withered and dried up +that he looked as if he had been turned into a mummy. They were very +cordially received by him; they asked him after his health, and he talked +to them about himself very naturally and in very well-chosen language. In +the course of their conversation they fell to discussing what they call +State-craft and systems of government, correcting this abuse and +condemning that, reforming one practice and abolishing another, each of +the three setting up for a new legislator, a modern Lycurgus, or a +brand-new Solon; and so completely did they remodel the State, that they +seemed to have thrust it into a furnace and taken out something quite +different from what they had put in; and on all the subjects they dealt +with, Don Quixote spoke with such good sense that the pair of examiners +were fully convinced that he was quite recovered and in his full senses. + +The niece and housekeeper were present at the conversation and could not +find words enough to express their thanks to God at seeing their master +so clear in his mind; the curate, however, changing his original plan, +which was to avoid touching upon matters of chivalry, resolved to test +Don Quixote's recovery thoroughly, and see whether it were genuine or +not; and so, from one subject to another, he came at last to talk of the +news that had come from the capital, and, among other things, he said it +was considered certain that the Turk was coming down with a powerful +fleet, and that no one knew what his purpose was, or when the great storm +would burst; and that all Christendom was in apprehension of this, which +almost every year calls us to arms, and that his Majesty had made +provision for the security of the coasts of Naples and Sicily and the +island of Malta. + +To this Don Quixote replied, "His Majesty has acted like a prudent +warrior in providing for the safety of his realms in time, so that the +enemy may not find him unprepared; but if my advice were taken I would +recommend him to adopt a measure which at present, no doubt, his Majesty +is very far from thinking of." + +The moment the curate heard this he said to himself, "God keep thee in +his hand, poor Don Quixote, for it seems to me thou art precipitating +thyself from the height of thy madness into the profound abyss of thy +simplicity." + +But the barber, who had the same suspicion as the curate, asked Don +Quixote what would be his advice as to the measures that he said ought to +be adopted; for perhaps it might prove to be one that would have to be +added to the list of the many impertinent suggestions that people were in +the habit of offering to princes. + +"Mine, master shaver," said Don Quixote, "will not be impertinent, but, +on the contrary, pertinent." + +"I don't mean that," said the barber, "but that experience has shown that +all or most of the expedients which are proposed to his Majesty are +either impossible, or absurd, or injurious to the King and to the +kingdom." + +"Mine, however," replied Don Quixote, "is neither impossible nor absurd, +but the easiest, the most reasonable, the readiest and most expeditious +that could suggest itself to any projector's mind." + +"You take a long time to tell it, Senor Don Quixote," said the curate. + +"I don't choose to tell it here, now," said Don Quixote, "and have it +reach the ears of the lords of the council to-morrow morning, and some +other carry off the thanks and rewards of my trouble." + +"For my part," said the barber, "I give my word here and before God that +I will not repeat what your worship says, to King, Rook or earthly +man--an oath I learned from the ballad of the curate, who, in the +prelude, told the king of the thief who had robbed him of the hundred +gold crowns and his pacing mule." + +"I am not versed in stories," said Don Quixote; "but I know the oath is a +good one, because I know the barber to be an honest fellow." + +"Even if he were not," said the curate, "I will go bail and answer for +him that in this matter he will be as silent as a dummy, under pain of +paying any penalty that may be pronounced." + +"And who will be security for you, senor curate?" said Don Quixote. + +"My profession," replied the curate, "which is to keep secrets." + +"Ods body!" said Don Quixote at this, "what more has his Majesty to do +but to command, by public proclamation, all the knights-errant that are +scattered over Spain to assemble on a fixed day in the capital, for even +if no more than half a dozen come, there may be one among them who alone +will suffice to destroy the entire might of the Turk. Give me your +attention and follow me. Is it, pray, any new thing for a single +knight-errant to demolish an army of two hundred thousand men, as if they +all had but one throat or were made of sugar paste? Nay, tell me, how +many histories are there filled with these marvels? If only (in an evil +hour for me: I don't speak for anyone else) the famous Don Belianis were +alive now, or any one of the innumerable progeny of Amadis of Gaul! If +any these were alive today, and were to come face to face with the Turk, +by my faith, I would not give much for the Turk's chance. But God will +have regard for his people, and will provide some one, who, if not so +valiant as the knights-errant of yore, at least will not be inferior to +them in spirit; but God knows what I mean, and I say no more." + +"Alas!" exclaimed the niece at this, "may I die if my master does not +want to turn knight-errant again;" to which Don Quixote replied, "A +knight-errant I shall die, and let the Turk come down or go up when he +likes, and in as strong force as he can, once more I say, God knows what +I mean." But here the barber said, "I ask your worships to give me leave +to tell a short story of something that happened in Seville, which comes +so pat to the purpose just now that I should like greatly to tell it." +Don Quixote gave him leave, and the rest prepared to listen, and he began +thus: + +"In the madhouse at Seville there was a man whom his relations had placed +there as being out of his mind. He was a graduate of Osuna in canon law; +but even if he had been of Salamanca, it was the opinion of most people +that he would have been mad all the same. This graduate, after some years +of confinement, took it into his head that he was sane and in his full +senses, and under this impression wrote to the Archbishop, entreating him +earnestly, and in very correct language, to have him released from the +misery in which he was living; for by God's mercy he had now recovered +his lost reason, though his relations, in order to enjoy his property, +kept him there, and, in spite of the truth, would make him out to be mad +until his dying day. The Archbishop, moved by repeated sensible, +well-written letters, directed one of his chaplains to make inquiry of +the madhouse as to the truth of the licentiate's statements, and to have +an interview with the madman himself, and, if it should appear that he +was in his senses, to take him out and restore him to liberty. The +chaplain did so, and the governor assured him that the man was still mad, +and that though he often spoke like a highly intelligent person, he would +in the end break out into nonsense that in quantity and quality +counterbalanced all the sensible things he had said before, as might be +easily tested by talking to him. The chaplain resolved to try the +experiment, and obtaining access to the madman conversed with him for an +hour or more, during the whole of which time he never uttered a word that +was incoherent or absurd, but, on the contrary, spoke so rationally that +the chaplain was compelled to believe him to be sane. Among other things, +he said the governor was against him, not to lose the presents his +relations made him for reporting him still mad but with lucid intervals; +and that the worst foe he had in his misfortune was his large property; +for in order to enjoy it his enemies disparaged and threw doubts upon the +mercy our Lord had shown him in turning him from a brute beast into a +man. In short, he spoke in such a way that he cast suspicion on the +governor, and made his relations appear covetous and heartless, and +himself so rational that the chaplain determined to take him away with +him that the Archbishop might see him, and ascertain for himself the +truth of the matter. Yielding to this conviction, the worthy chaplain +begged the governor to have the clothes in which the licentiate had +entered the house given to him. The governor again bade him beware of +what he was doing, as the licentiate was beyond a doubt still mad; but +all his cautions and warnings were unavailing to dissuade the chaplain +from taking him away. The governor, seeing that it was the order of the +Archbishop, obeyed, and they dressed the licentiate in his own clothes, +which were new and decent. He, as soon as he saw himself clothed like one +in his senses, and divested of the appearance of a madman, entreated the +chaplain to permit him in charity to go and take leave of his comrades +the madmen. The chaplain said he would go with him to see what madmen +there were in the house; so they went upstairs, and with them some of +those who were present. Approaching a cage in which there was a furious +madman, though just at that moment calm and quiet, the licentiate said to +him, 'Brother, think if you have any commands for me, for I am going +home, as God has been pleased, in his infinite goodness and mercy, +without any merit of mine, to restore me my reason. I am now cured and in +my senses, for with God's power nothing is impossible. Have strong hope +and trust in him, for as he has restored me to my original condition, so +likewise he will restore you if you trust in him. I will take care to +send you some good things to eat; and be sure you eat them; for I would +have you know I am convinced, as one who has gone through it, that all +this madness of ours comes of having the stomach empty and the brains +full of wind. Take courage! take courage! for despondency in misfortune +breaks down health and brings on death.' + +"To all these words of the licentiate another madman in a cage opposite +that of the furious one was listening; and raising himself up from an old +mat on which he lay stark naked, he asked in a loud voice who it was that +was going away cured and in his senses. The licentiate answered, 'It is +I, brother, who am going; I have now no need to remain here any longer, +for which I return infinite thanks to Heaven that has had so great mercy +upon me.' + +"'Mind what you are saying, licentiate; don't let the devil deceive you,' +replied the madman. 'Keep quiet, stay where you are, and you will save +yourself the trouble of coming back.' + +"'I know I am cured,' returned the licentiate, 'and that I shall not have +to go stations again.' + +"'You cured!' said the madman; 'well, we shall see; God be with you; but +I swear to you by Jupiter, whose majesty I represent on earth, that for +this crime alone, which Seville is committing to-day in releasing you +from this house, and treating you as if you were in your senses, I shall +have to inflict such a punishment on it as will be remembered for ages +and ages, amen. Dost thou not know, thou miserable little licentiate, +that I can do it, being, as I say, Jupiter the Thunderer, who hold in my +hands the fiery bolts with which I am able and am wont to threaten and +lay waste the world? But in one way only will I punish this ignorant +town, and that is by not raining upon it, nor on any part of its district +or territory, for three whole years, to be reckoned from the day and +moment when this threat is pronounced. Thou free, thou cured, thou in thy +senses! and I mad, I disordered, I bound! I will as soon think of sending +rain as of hanging myself. + +"Those present stood listening to the words and exclamations of the +madman; but our licentiate, turning to the chaplain and seizing him by +the hands, said to him, 'Be not uneasy, senor; attach no importance to +what this madman has said; for if he is Jupiter and will not send rain, +I, who am Neptune, the father and god of the waters, will rain as often +as it pleases me and may be needful.' + +"The governor and the bystanders laughed, and at their laughter the +chaplain was half ashamed, and he replied, 'For all that, Senor Neptune, +it will not do to vex Senor Jupiter; remain where you are, and some other +day, when there is a better opportunity and more time, we will come back +for you.' So they stripped the licentiate, and he was left where he was; +and that's the end of the story." + +"So that's the story, master barber," said Don Quixote, "which came in so +pat to the purpose that you could not help telling it? Master shaver, +master shaver! how blind is he who cannot see through a sieve. Is it +possible that you do not know that comparisons of wit with wit, valour +with valour, beauty with beauty, birth with birth, are always odious and +unwelcome? I, master barber, am not Neptune, the god of the waters, nor +do I try to make anyone take me for an astute man, for I am not one. My +only endeavour is to convince the world of the mistake it makes in not +reviving in itself the happy time when the order of knight-errantry was +in the field. But our depraved age does not deserve to enjoy such a +blessing as those ages enjoyed when knights-errant took upon their +shoulders the defence of kingdoms, the protection of damsels, the succour +of orphans and minors, the chastisement of the proud, and the recompense +of the humble. With the knights of these days, for the most part, it is +the damask, brocade, and rich stuffs they wear, that rustle as they go, +not the chain mail of their armour; no knight now-a-days sleeps in the +open field exposed to the inclemency of heaven, and in full panoply from +head to foot; no one now takes a nap, as they call it, without drawing +his feet out of the stirrups, and leaning upon his lance, as the +knights-errant used to do; no one now, issuing from the wood, penetrates +yonder mountains, and then treads the barren, lonely shore of the +sea--mostly a tempestuous and stormy one--and finding on the beach a +little bark without oars, sail, mast, or tackling of any kind, in the +intrepidity of his heart flings himself into it and commits himself to +the wrathful billows of the deep sea, that one moment lift him up to +heaven and the next plunge him into the depths; and opposing his breast +to the irresistible gale, finds himself, when he least expects it, three +thousand leagues and more away from the place where he embarked; and +leaping ashore in a remote and unknown land has adventures that deserve +to be written, not on parchment, but on brass. But now sloth triumphs +over energy, indolence over exertion, vice over virtue, arrogance over +courage, and theory over practice in arms, which flourished and shone +only in the golden ages and in knights-errant. For tell me, who was more +virtuous and more valiant than the famous Amadis of Gaul? Who more +discreet than Palmerin of England? Who more gracious and easy than +Tirante el Blanco? Who more courtly than Lisuarte of Greece? Who more +slashed or slashing than Don Belianis? Who more intrepid than Perion of +Gaul? Who more ready to face danger than Felixmarte of Hircania? Who more +sincere than Esplandian? Who more impetuous than Don Cirongilio of +Thrace? Who more bold than Rodamonte? Who more prudent than King Sobrino? +Who more daring than Reinaldos? Who more invincible than Roland? and who +more gallant and courteous than Ruggiero, from whom the dukes of Ferrara +of the present day are descended, according to Turpin in his +'Cosmography.' All these knights, and many more that I could name, senor +curate, were knights-errant, the light and glory of chivalry. These, or +such as these, I would have to carry out my plan, and in that case his +Majesty would find himself well served and would save great expense, and +the Turk would be left tearing his beard. And so I will stay where I am, +as the chaplain does not take me away; and if Jupiter, as the barber has +told us, will not send rain, here am I, and I will rain when I please. I +say this that Master Basin may know that I understand him." + +"Indeed, Senor Don Quixote," said the barber, "I did not mean it in that +way, and, so help me God, my intention was good, and your worship ought +not to be vexed." + +"As to whether I ought to be vexed or not," returned Don Quixote, "I +myself am the best judge." + +Hereupon the curate observed, "I have hardly said a word as yet; and I +would gladly be relieved of a doubt, arising from what Don Quixote has +said, that worries and works my conscience." + +"The senor curate has leave for more than that," returned Don Quixote, +"so he may declare his doubt, for it is not pleasant to have a doubt on +one's conscience." + +"Well then, with that permission," said the curate, "I say my doubt is +that, all I can do, I cannot persuade myself that the whole pack of +knights-errant you, Senor Don Quixote, have mentioned, were really and +truly persons of flesh and blood, that ever lived in the world; on the +contrary, I suspect it to be all fiction, fable, and falsehood, and +dreams told by men awakened from sleep, or rather still half asleep." + +"That is another mistake," replied Don Quixote, "into which many have +fallen who do not believe that there ever were such knights in the world, +and I have often, with divers people and on divers occasions, tried to +expose this almost universal error to the light of truth. Sometimes I +have not been successful in my purpose, sometimes I have, supporting it +upon the shoulders of the truth; which truth is so clear that I can +almost say I have with my own eyes seen Amadis of Gaul, who was a man of +lofty stature, fair complexion, with a handsome though black beard, of a +countenance between gentle and stern in expression, sparing of words, +slow to anger, and quick to put it away from him; and as I have depicted +Amadis, so I could, I think, portray and describe all the knights-errant +that are in all the histories in the world; for by the perception I have +that they were what their histories describe, and by the deeds they did +and the dispositions they displayed, it is possible, with the aid of +sound philosophy, to deduce their features, complexion, and stature." + +"How big, in your worship's opinion, may the giant Morgante have been, +Senor Don Quixote?" asked the barber. + +"With regard to giants," replied Don Quixote, "opinions differ as to +whether there ever were any or not in the world; but the Holy Scripture, +which cannot err by a jot from the truth, shows us that there were, when +it gives us the history of that big Philistine, Goliath, who was seven +cubits and a half in height, which is a huge size. Likewise, in the +island of Sicily, there have been found leg-bones and arm-bones so large +that their size makes it plain that their owners were giants, and as tall +as great towers; geometry puts this fact beyond a doubt. But, for all +that, I cannot speak with certainty as to the size of Morgante, though I +suspect he cannot have been very tall; and I am inclined to be of this +opinion because I find in the history in which his deeds are particularly +mentioned, that he frequently slept under a roof and as he found houses +to contain him, it is clear that his bulk could not have been anything +excessive." + +"That is true," said the curate, and yielding to the enjoyment of hearing +such nonsense, he asked him what was his notion of the features of +Reinaldos of Montalban, and Don Roland and the rest of the Twelve Peers +of France, for they were all knights-errant. + +"As for Reinaldos," replied Don Quixote, "I venture to say that he was +broad-faced, of ruddy complexion, with roguish and somewhat prominent +eyes, excessively punctilious and touchy, and given to the society of +thieves and scapegraces. With regard to Roland, or Rotolando, or Orlando +(for the histories call him by all these names), I am of opinion, and +hold, that he was of middle height, broad-shouldered, rather bow-legged, +swarthy-complexioned, red-bearded, with a hairy body and a severe +expression of countenance, a man of few words, but very polite and +well-bred." + +"If Roland was not a more graceful person than your worship has +described," said the curate, "it is no wonder that the fair Lady Angelica +rejected him and left him for the gaiety, liveliness, and grace of that +budding-bearded little Moor to whom she surrendered herself; and she +showed her sense in falling in love with the gentle softness of Medoro +rather than the roughness of Roland." + +"That Angelica, senor curate," returned Don Quixote, "was a giddy damsel, +flighty and somewhat wanton, and she left the world as full of her +vagaries as of the fame of her beauty. She treated with scorn a thousand +gentlemen, men of valour and wisdom, and took up with a smooth-faced +sprig of a page, without fortune or fame, except such reputation for +gratitude as the affection he bore his friend got for him. The great poet +who sang her beauty, the famous Ariosto, not caring to sing her +adventures after her contemptible surrender (which probably were not over +and above creditable), dropped her where he says: + +How she received the sceptre of Cathay, +Some bard of defter quill may sing some day; + +and this was no doubt a kind of prophecy, for poets are also called +vates, that is to say diviners; and its truth was made plain; for since +then a famous Andalusian poet has lamented and sung her tears, and +another famous and rare poet, a Castilian, has sung her beauty." + +"Tell me, Senor Don Quixote," said the barber here, "among all those who +praised her, has there been no poet to write a satire on this Lady +Angelica?" + +"I can well believe," replied Don Quixote, "that if Sacripante or Roland +had been poets they would have given the damsel a trimming; for it is +naturally the way with poets who have been scorned and rejected by their +ladies, whether fictitious or not, in short by those whom they select as +the ladies of their thoughts, to avenge themselves in satires and +libels--a vengeance, to be sure, unworthy of generous hearts; but up to +the present I have not heard of any defamatory verse against the Lady +Angelica, who turned the world upside down." + +"Strange," said the curate; but at this moment they heard the housekeeper +and the niece, who had previously withdrawn from the conversation, +exclaiming aloud in the courtyard, and at the noise they all ran out. + +Chapter II. - +Which treats of the notable altercation which Sancho Panza had with Don +Quixote's niece, and housekeeper, together with other droll matters + +The history relates that the outcry Don Quixote, the curate, and the +barber heard came from the niece and the housekeeper exclaiming to +Sancho, who was striving to force his way in to see Don Quixote while +they held the door against him, "What does the vagabond want in this +house? Be off to your own, brother, for it is you, and no one else, that +delude my master, and lead him astray, and take him tramping about the +country." + +To which Sancho replied, "Devil's own housekeeper! it is I who am +deluded, and led astray, and taken tramping about the country, and not +thy master! He has carried me all over the world, and you are mightily +mistaken. He enticed me away from home by a trick, promising me an +island, which I am still waiting for." + +"May evil islands choke thee, thou detestable Sancho," said the niece; +"What are islands? Is it something to eat, glutton and gormandiser that +thou art?" + +"It is not something to eat," replied Sancho, "but something to govern +and rule, and better than four cities or four judgeships at court." + +"For all that," said the housekeeper, "you don't enter here, you bag of +mischief and sack of knavery; go govern your house and dig your +seed-patch, and give over looking for islands or shylands." + +The curate and the barber listened with great amusement to the words of +the three; but Don Quixote, uneasy lest Sancho should blab and blurt out +a whole heap of mischievous stupidities, and touch upon points that might +not be altogether to his credit, called to him and made the other two +hold their tongues and let him come in. Sancho entered, and the curate +and the barber took their leave of Don Quixote, of whose recovery they +despaired when they saw how wedded he was to his crazy ideas, and how +saturated with the nonsense of his unlucky chivalry; and said the curate +to the barber, "You will see, gossip, that when we are least thinking of +it, our gentleman will be off once more for another flight." + +"I have no doubt of it," returned the barber; "but I do not wonder so +much at the madness of the knight as at the simplicity of the squire, who +has such a firm belief in all that about the island, that I suppose all +the exposures that could be imagined would not get it out of his head." + +"God help them," said the curate; "and let us be on the look-out to see +what comes of all these absurdities of the knight and squire, for it +seems as if they had both been cast in the same mould, and the madness of +the master without the simplicity of the man would not be worth a +farthing." + +"That is true," said the barber, "and I should like very much to know +what the pair are talking about at this moment." + +"I promise you," said the curate, "the niece or the housekeeper will tell +us by-and-by, for they are not the ones to forget to listen." + +Meanwhile Don Quixote shut himself up in his room with Sancho, and when +they were alone he said to him, "It grieves me greatly, Sancho, that thou +shouldst have said, and sayest, that I took thee out of thy cottage, when +thou knowest I did not remain in my house. We sallied forth together, we +took the road together, we wandered abroad together; we have had the same +fortune and the same luck; if they blanketed thee once, they belaboured +me a hundred times, and that is the only advantage I have of thee." + +"That was only reasonable," replied Sancho, "for, by what your worship +says, misfortunes belong more properly to knights-errant than to their +squires." + +"Thou art mistaken, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "according to the maxim +quando caput dolet, etc." + +"I don't understand any language but my own," said Sancho. + +"I mean to say," said Don Quixote, "that when the head suffers all the +members suffer; and so, being thy lord and master, I am thy head, and +thou a part of me as thou art my servant; and therefore any evil that +affects or shall affect me should give thee pain, and what affects thee +give pain to me." + +"It should be so," said Sancho; "but when I was blanketed as a member, my +head was on the other side of the wall, looking on while I was flying +through the air, and did not feel any pain whatever; and if the members +are obliged to feel the suffering of the head, it should be obliged to +feel their sufferings." + +"Dost thou mean to say now, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that I did not +feel when they were blanketing thee? If thou dost, thou must not say so +or think so, for I felt more pain then in spirit than thou didst in body. +But let us put that aside for the present, for we shall have +opportunities enough for considering and settling the point; tell me, +Sancho my friend, what do they say about me in the village here? What do +the common people think of me? What do the hidalgos? What do the +caballeros? What do they say of my valour; of my achievements; of my +courtesy? How do they treat the task I have undertaken in reviving and +restoring to the world the now forgotten order of chivalry? In short, +Sancho, I would have thee tell me all that has come to thine ears on this +subject; and thou art to tell me, without adding anything to the good or +taking away anything from the bad; for it is the duty of loyal vassals to +tell the truth to their lords just as it is and in its proper shape, not +allowing flattery to add to it or any idle deference to lessen it. And I +would have thee know, Sancho, that if the naked truth, undisguised by +flattery, came to the ears of princes, times would be different, and +other ages would be reckoned iron ages more than ours, which I hold to be +the golden of these latter days. Profit by this advice, Sancho, and +report to me clearly and faithfully the truth of what thou knowest +touching what I have demanded of thee." + +"That I will do with all my heart, master," replied Sancho, "provided +your worship will not be vexed at what I say, as you wish me to say it +out in all its nakedness, without putting any more clothes on it than it +came to my knowledge in." + +"I will not be vexed at all," returned Don Quixote; "thou mayest speak +freely, Sancho, and without any beating about the bush." + +"Well then," said he, "first of all, I have to tell you that the common +people consider your worship a mighty great madman, and me no less a +fool. The hidalgos say that, not keeping within the bounds of your +quality of gentleman, you have assumed the 'Don,' and made a knight of +yourself at a jump, with four vine-stocks and a couple of acres of land, +and never a shirt to your back. The caballeros say they do not want to +have hidalgos setting up in opposition to them, particularly squire +hidalgos who polish their own shoes and darn their black stockings with +green silk." + +"That," said Don Quixote, "does not apply to me, for I always go well +dressed and never patched; ragged I may be, but ragged more from the wear +and tear of arms than of time." + +"As to your worship's valour, courtesy, accomplishments, and task, there +is a variety of opinions. Some say, 'mad but droll;' others, 'valiant but +unlucky;' others, 'courteous but meddling,' and then they go into such a +number of things that they don't leave a whole bone either in your +worship or in myself." + +"Recollect, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that wherever virtue exists in an +eminent degree it is persecuted. Few or none of the famous men that have +lived escaped being calumniated by malice. Julius Caesar, the boldest, +wisest, and bravest of captains, was charged with being ambitious, and +not particularly cleanly in his dress, or pure in his morals. Of +Alexander, whose deeds won him the name of Great, they say that he was +somewhat of a drunkard. Of Hercules, him of the many labours, it is said +that he was lewd and luxurious. Of Don Galaor, the brother of Amadis of +Gaul, it was whispered that he was over quarrelsome, and of his brother +that he was lachrymose. So that, O Sancho, amongst all these calumnies +against good men, mine may be let pass, since they are no more than thou +hast said." + +"That's just where it is, body of my father!" + +"Is there more, then?" asked Don Quixote. + +"There's the tail to be skinned yet," said Sancho; "all so far is cakes +and fancy bread; but if your worship wants to know all about the +calumnies they bring against you, I will fetch you one this instant who +can tell you the whole of them without missing an atom; for last night +the son of Bartholomew Carrasco, who has been studying at Salamanca, came +home after having been made a bachelor, and when I went to welcome him, +he told me that your worship's history is already abroad in books, with +the title of THE INGENIOUS GENTLEMAN DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA; and he +says they mention me in it by my own name of Sancho Panza, and the lady +Dulcinea del Toboso too, and divers things that happened to us when we +were alone; so that I crossed myself in my wonder how the historian who +wrote them down could have known them." + +"I promise thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "the author of our history +will be some sage enchanter; for to such nothing that they choose to +write about is hidden." + +"What!" said Sancho, "a sage and an enchanter! Why, the bachelor Samson +Carrasco (that is the name of him I spoke of) says the author of the +history is called Cide Hamete Berengena." + +"That is a Moorish name," said Don Quixote. + +"May be so," replied Sancho; "for I have heard say that the Moors are +mostly great lovers of berengenas." + +"Thou must have mistaken the surname of this 'Cide'--which means in +Arabic 'Lord'--Sancho," observed Don Quixote. + +"Very likely," replied Sancho, "but if your worship wishes me to fetch +the bachelor I will go for him in a twinkling." + +"Thou wilt do me a great pleasure, my friend," said Don Quixote, "for +what thou hast told me has amazed me, and I shall not eat a morsel that +will agree with me until I have heard all about it." + +"Then I am off for him," said Sancho; and leaving his master he went in +quest of the bachelor, with whom he returned in a short time, and, all +three together, they had a very droll colloquy. + +Chapter III. - +Of the laughable conversation that passed between Don Quixote, Sancho +Panza, and the bachelor Samson Carrasco + +Don Quixote remained very deep in thought, waiting for the bachelor +Carrasco, from whom he was to hear how he himself had been put into a +book as Sancho said; and he could not persuade himself that any such +history could be in existence, for the blood of the enemies he had slain +was not yet dry on the blade of his sword, and now they wanted to make +out that his mighty achievements were going about in print. For all that, +he fancied some sage, either a friend or an enemy, might, by the aid of +magic, have given them to the press; if a friend, in order to magnify and +exalt them above the most famous ever achieved by any knight-errant; if +an enemy, to bring them to naught and degrade them below the meanest ever +recorded of any low squire, though as he said to himself, the +achievements of squires never were recorded. If, however, it were the +fact that such a history were in existence, it must necessarily, being +the story of a knight-errant, be grandiloquent, lofty, imposing, grand +and true. With this he comforted himself somewhat, though it made him +uncomfortable to think that the author was a Moor, judging by the title +of "Cide;" and that no truth was to be looked for from Moors, as they are +all impostors, cheats, and schemers. He was afraid he might have dealt +with his love affairs in some indecorous fashion, that might tend to the +discredit and prejudice of the purity of his lady Dulcinea del Toboso; he +would have had him set forth the fidelity and respect he had always +observed towards her, spurning queens, empresses, and damsels of all +sorts, and keeping in check the impetuosity of his natural impulses. +Absorbed and wrapped up in these and divers other cogitations, he was +found by Sancho and Carrasco, whom Don Quixote received with great +courtesy. + +The bachelor, though he was called Samson, was of no great bodily size, +but he was a very great wag; he was of a sallow complexion, but very +sharp-witted, somewhere about four-and-twenty years of age, with a round +face, a flat nose, and a large mouth, all indications of a mischievous +disposition and a love of fun and jokes; and of this he gave a sample as +soon as he saw Don Quixote, by falling on his knees before him and +saying, "Let me kiss your mightiness's hand, Senor Don Quixote of La +Mancha, for, by the habit of St. Peter that I wear, though I have no more +than the first four orders, your worship is one of the most famous +knights-errant that have ever been, or will be, all the world over. A +blessing on Cide Hamete Benengeli, who has written the history of your +great deeds, and a double blessing on that connoisseur who took the +trouble of having it translated out of the Arabic into our Castilian +vulgar tongue for the universal entertainment of the people!" + +Don Quixote made him rise, and said, "So, then, it is true that there is +a history of me, and that it was a Moor and a sage who wrote it?" + +"So true is it, senor," said Samson, "that my belief is there are more +than twelve thousand volumes of the said history in print this very day. +Only ask Portugal, Barcelona, and Valencia, where they have been printed, +and moreover there is a report that it is being printed at Antwerp, and I +am persuaded there will not be a country or language in which there will +not be a translation of it." + +"One of the things," here observed Don Quixote, "that ought to give most +pleasure to a virtuous and eminent man is to find himself in his lifetime +in print and in type, familiar in people's mouths with a good name; I say +with a good name, for if it be the opposite, then there is no death to be +compared to it." + +"If it goes by good name and fame," said the bachelor, "your worship +alone bears away the palm from all the knights-errant; for the Moor in +his own language, and the Christian in his, have taken care to set before +us your gallantry, your high courage in encountering dangers, your +fortitude in adversity, your patience under misfortunes as well as +wounds, the purity and continence of the platonic loves of your worship +and my lady Dona Dulcinea del Toboso-" + +"I never heard my lady Dulcinea called Dona," observed Sancho here; +"nothing more than the lady Dulcinea del Toboso; so here already the +history is wrong." + +"That is not an objection of any importance," replied Carrasco. + +"Certainly not," said Don Quixote; "but tell me, senor bachelor, what +deeds of mine are they that are made most of in this history?" + +"On that point," replied the bachelor, "opinions differ, as tastes do; +some swear by the adventure of the windmills that your worship took to be +Briareuses and giants; others by that of the fulling mills; one cries up +the description of the two armies that afterwards took the appearance of +two droves of sheep; another that of the dead body on its way to be +buried at Segovia; a third says the liberation of the galley slaves is +the best of all, and a fourth that nothing comes up to the affair with +the Benedictine giants, and the battle with the valiant Biscayan." + +"Tell me, senor bachelor," said Sancho at this point, "does the adventure +with the Yanguesans come in, when our good Rocinante went hankering after +dainties?" + +"The sage has left nothing in the ink-bottle," replied Samson; "he tells +all and sets down everything, even to the capers that worthy Sancho cut +in the blanket." + +"I cut no capers in the blanket," returned Sancho; "in the air I did, and +more of them than I liked." + +"There is no human history in the world, I suppose," said Don Quixote, +"that has not its ups and downs, but more than others such as deal with +chivalry, for they can never be entirely made up of prosperous +adventures." + +"For all that," replied the bachelor, "there are those who have read the +history who say they would have been glad if the author had left out some +of the countless cudgellings that were inflicted on Senor Don Quixote in +various encounters." + +"That's where the truth of the history comes in," said Sancho. + +"At the same time they might fairly have passed them over in silence," +observed Don Quixote; "for there is no need of recording events which do +not change or affect the truth of a history, if they tend to bring the +hero of it into contempt. AEneas was not in truth and earnest so pious as +Virgil represents him, nor Ulysses so wise as Homer describes him." + +"That is true," said Samson; "but it is one thing to write as a poet, +another to write as a historian; the poet may describe or sing things, +not as they were, but as they ought to have been; but the historian has +to write them down, not as they ought to have been, but as they were, +without adding anything to the truth or taking anything from it." + +"Well then," said Sancho, "if this senor Moor goes in for telling the +truth, no doubt among my master's drubbings mine are to be found; for +they never took the measure of his worship's shoulders without doing the +same for my whole body; but I have no right to wonder at that, for, as my +master himself says, the members must share the pain of the head." + +"You are a sly dog, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "i' faith, you have no +want of memory when you choose to remember." + +"If I were to try to forget the thwacks they gave me," said Sancho, "my +weals would not let me, for they are still fresh on my ribs." + +"Hush, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and don't interrupt the bachelor, whom +I entreat to go on and tell all that is said about me in this history." + +"And about me," said Sancho, "for they say, too, that I am one of the +principal presonages in it." + +"Personages, not presonages, friend Sancho," said Samson. + +"What! Another word-catcher!" said Sancho; "if that's to be the way we +shall not make an end in a lifetime." + +"May God shorten mine, Sancho," returned the bachelor, "if you are not +the second person in the history, and there are even some who would +rather hear you talk than the cleverest in the whole book; though there +are some, too, who say you showed yourself over-credulous in believing +there was any possibility in the government of that island offered you by +Senor Don Quixote." + +"There is still sunshine on the wall," said Don Quixote; "and when Sancho +is somewhat more advanced in life, with the experience that years bring, +he will be fitter and better qualified for being a governor than he is at +present." + +"By God, master," said Sancho, "the island that I cannot govern with the +years I have, I'll not be able to govern with the years of Methuselah; +the difficulty is that the said island keeps its distance somewhere, I +know not where; and not that there is any want of head in me to govern +it." + +"Leave it to God, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "for all will be and perhaps +better than you think; no leaf on the tree stirs but by God's will." + +"That is true," said Samson; "and if it be God's will, there will not be +any want of a thousand islands, much less one, for Sancho to govern." + +"I have seen governors in these parts," said Sancho, "that are not to be +compared to my shoe-sole; and for all that they are called 'your +lordship' and served on silver." + +"Those are not governors of islands," observed Samson, "but of other +governments of an easier kind: those that govern islands must at least +know grammar." + +"I could manage the gram well enough," said Sancho; "but for the mar I +have neither leaning nor liking, for I don't know what it is; but leaving +this matter of the government in God's hands, to send me wherever it may +be most to his service, I may tell you, senor bachelor Samson Carrasco, +it has pleased me beyond measure that the author of this history should +have spoken of me in such a way that what is said of me gives no offence; +for, on the faith of a true squire, if he had said anything about me that +was at all unbecoming an old Christian, such as I am, the deaf would have +heard of it." + +"That would be working miracles," said Samson. + +"Miracles or no miracles," said Sancho, "let everyone mind how he speaks +or writes about people, and not set down at random the first thing that +comes into his head." + +"One of the faults they find with this history," said the bachelor, "is +that its author inserted in it a novel called 'The Ill-advised +Curiosity;' not that it is bad or ill-told, but that it is out of place +and has nothing to do with the history of his worship Senor Don Quixote." + +"I will bet the son of a dog has mixed the cabbages and the baskets," +said Sancho. + +"Then, I say," said Don Quixote, "the author of my history was no sage, +but some ignorant chatterer, who, in a haphazard and heedless way, set +about writing it, let it turn out as it might, just as Orbaneja, the +painter of Ubeda, used to do, who, when they asked him what he was +painting, answered, 'What it may turn out.' Sometimes he would paint a +cock in such a fashion, and so unlike, that he had to write alongside of +it in Gothic letters, 'This is a cock; and so it will be with my history, +which will require a commentary to make it intelligible." + +"No fear of that," returned Samson, "for it is so plain that there is +nothing in it to puzzle over; the children turn its leaves, the young +people read it, the grown men understand it, the old folk praise it; in a +word, it is so thumbed, and read, and got by heart by people of all +sorts, that the instant they see any lean hack, they say, 'There goes +Rocinante.' And those that are most given to reading it are the pages, +for there is not a lord's ante-chamber where there is not a 'Don Quixote' +to be found; one takes it up if another lays it down; this one pounces +upon it, and that begs for it. In short, the said history is the most +delightful and least injurious entertainment that has been hitherto seen, +for there is not to be found in the whole of it even the semblance of an +immodest word, or a thought that is other than Catholic." + +"To write in any other way," said Don Quixote, "would not be to write +truth, but falsehood, and historians who have recourse to falsehood ought +to be burned, like those who coin false money; and I know not what could +have led the author to have recourse to novels and irrelevant stories, +when he had so much to write about in mine; no doubt he must have gone by +the proverb 'with straw or with hay, etc,' for by merely setting forth my +thoughts, my sighs, my tears, my lofty purposes, my enterprises, he might +have made a volume as large, or larger than all the works of El Tostado +would make up. In fact, the conclusion I arrive at, senor bachelor, is, +that to write histories, or books of any kind, there is need of great +judgment and a ripe understanding. To give expression to humour, and +write in a strain of graceful pleasantry, is the gift of great geniuses. +The cleverest character in comedy is the clown, for he who would make +people take him for a fool, must not be one. History is in a measure a +sacred thing, for it should be true, and where the truth is, there God +is; but notwithstanding this, there are some who write and fling books +broadcast on the world as if they were fritters." + +"There is no book so bad but it has something good in it," said the +bachelor. + +"No doubt of that," replied Don Quixote; "but it often happens that those +who have acquired and attained a well-deserved reputation by their +writings, lose it entirely, or damage it in some degree, when they give +them to the press." + +"The reason of that," said Samson, "is, that as printed works are +examined leisurely, their faults are easily seen; and the greater the +fame of the writer, the more closely are they scrutinised. Men famous for +their genius, great poets, illustrious historians, are always, or most +commonly, envied by those who take a particular delight and pleasure in +criticising the writings of others, without having produced any of their +own." + +"That is no wonder," said Don Quixote; "for there are many divines who +are no good for the pulpit, but excellent in detecting the defects or +excesses of those who preach." + +"All that is true, Senor Don Quixote," said Carrasco; "but I wish such +fault-finders were more lenient and less exacting, and did not pay so +much attention to the spots on the bright sun of the work they grumble +at; for if aliquando bonus dormitat Homerus, they should remember how +long he remained awake to shed the light of his work with as little shade +as possible; and perhaps it may be that what they find fault with may be +moles, that sometimes heighten the beauty of the face that bears them; +and so I say very great is the risk to which he who prints a book exposes +himself, for of all impossibilities the greatest is to write one that +will satisfy and please all readers." + +"That which treats of me must have pleased few," said Don Quixote. + +"Quite the contrary," said the bachelor; "for, as stultorum infinitum est +numerus, innumerable are those who have relished the said history; but +some have brought a charge against the author's memory, inasmuch as he +forgot to say who the thief was who stole Sancho's Dapple; for it is not +stated there, but only to be inferred from what is set down, that he was +stolen, and a little farther on we see Sancho mounted on the same ass, +without any reappearance of it. They say, too, that he forgot to state +what Sancho did with those hundred crowns that he found in the valise in +the Sierra Morena, as he never alludes to them again, and there are many +who would be glad to know what he did with them, or what he spent them +on, for it is one of the serious omissions of the work." + +"Senor Samson, I am not in a humour now for going into accounts or +explanations," said Sancho; "for there's a sinking of the stomach come +over me, and unless I doctor it with a couple of sups of the old stuff it +will put me on the thorn of Santa Lucia. I have it at home, and my old +woman is waiting for me; after dinner I'll come back, and will answer you +and all the world every question you may choose to ask, as well about the +loss of the ass as about the spending of the hundred crowns;" and without +another word or waiting for a reply he made off home. + +Don Quixote begged and entreated the bachelor to stay and do penance with +him. The bachelor accepted the invitation and remained, a couple of young +pigeons were added to the ordinary fare, at dinner they talked chivalry, +Carrasco fell in with his host's humour, the banquet came to an end, they +took their afternoon sleep, Sancho returned, and their conversation was +resumed. + +Chapter IV. - +In which Sancho Panza gives a satisfactory reply to the doubts and +questions of the bachelor Samson Carrasco, together with other matters +worth knowing and telling + +Sancho came back to Don Quixote's house, and returning to the late +subject of conversation, he said, "As to what Senor Samson said, that he +would like to know by whom, or how, or when my ass was stolen, I say in +reply that the same night we went into the Sierra Morena, flying from the +Holy Brotherhood after that unlucky adventure of the galley slaves, and +the other of the corpse that was going to Segovia, my master and I +ensconced ourselves in a thicket, and there, my master leaning on his +lance, and I seated on my Dapple, battered and weary with the late frays +we fell asleep as if it had been on four feather mattresses; and I in +particular slept so sound, that, whoever he was, he was able to come and +prop me up on four stakes, which he put under the four corners of the +pack-saddle in such a way that he left me mounted on it, and took away +Dapple from under me without my feeling it." + +"That is an easy matter," said Don Quixote, "and it is no new occurrence, +for the same thing happened to Sacripante at the siege of Albracca; the +famous thief, Brunello, by the same contrivance, took his horse from +between his legs." + +"Day came," continued Sancho, "and the moment I stirred the stakes gave +way and I fell to the ground with a mighty come down; I looked about for +the ass, but could not see him; the tears rushed to my eyes and I raised +such a lamentation that, if the author of our history has not put it in, +he may depend upon it he has left out a good thing. Some days after, I +know not how many, travelling with her ladyship the Princess Micomicona, +I saw my ass, and mounted upon him, in the dress of a gipsy, was that +Gines de Pasamonte, the great rogue and rascal that my master and I freed +from the chain." + +"That is not where the mistake is," replied Samson; "it is, that before +the ass has turned up, the author speaks of Sancho as being mounted on +it." + +"I don't know what to say to that," said Sancho, "unless that the +historian made a mistake, or perhaps it might be a blunder of the +printer's." + +"No doubt that's it," said Samson; "but what became of the hundred +crowns? Did they vanish?" + +To which Sancho answered, "I spent them for my own good, and my wife's, +and my children's, and it is they that have made my wife bear so +patiently all my wanderings on highways and byways, in the service of my +master, Don Quixote; for if after all this time I had come back to the +house without a rap and without the ass, it would have been a poor +look-out for me; and if anyone wants to know anything more about me, here +I am, ready to answer the king himself in person; and it is no affair of +anyone's whether I took or did not take, whether I spent or did not +spend; for the whacks that were given me in these journeys were to be +paid for in money, even if they were valued at no more than four +maravedis apiece, another hundred crowns would not pay me for half of +them. Let each look to himself and not try to make out white black, and +black white; for each of us is as God made him, aye, and often worse." + +"I will take care," said Carrasco, "to impress upon the author of the +history that, if he prints it again, he must not forget what worthy +Sancho has said, for it will raise it a good span higher." + +"Is there anything else to correct in the history, senor bachelor?" asked +Don Quixote. + +"No doubt there is," replied he; "but not anything that will be of the +same importance as those I have mentioned." + +"Does the author promise a second part at all?" said Don Quixote. + +"He does promise one," replied Samson; "but he says he has not found it, +nor does he know who has got it; and we cannot say whether it will appear +or not; and so, on that head, as some say that no second part has ever +been good, and others that enough has been already written about Don +Quixote, it is thought there will be no second part; though some, who are +jovial rather than saturnine, say, 'Let us have more Quixotades, let Don +Quixote charge and Sancho chatter, and no matter what it may turn out, we +shall be satisfied with that.'" + +"And what does the author mean to do?" said Don Quixote. + +"What?" replied Samson; "why, as soon as he has found the history which +he is now searching for with extraordinary diligence, he will at once +give it to the press, moved more by the profit that may accrue to him +from doing so than by any thought of praise." + +Whereat Sancho observed, "The author looks for money and profit, does he? +It will be a wonder if he succeeds, for it will be only hurry, hurry, +with him, like the tailor on Easter Eve; and works done in a hurry are +never finished as perfectly as they ought to be. Let master Moor, or +whatever he is, pay attention to what he is doing, and I and my master +will give him as much grouting ready to his hand, in the way of +adventures and accidents of all sorts, as would make up not only one +second part, but a hundred. The good man fancies, no doubt, that we are +fast asleep in the straw here, but let him hold up our feet to be shod +and he will see which foot it is we go lame on. All I say is, that if my +master would take my advice, we would be now afield, redressing outrages +and righting wrongs, as is the use and custom of good knights-errant." + +Sancho had hardly uttered these words when the neighing of Rocinante fell +upon their ears, which neighing Don Quixote accepted as a happy omen, and +he resolved to make another sally in three or four days from that time. +Announcing his intention to the bachelor, he asked his advice as to the +quarter in which he ought to commence his expedition, and the bachelor +replied that in his opinion he ought to go to the kingdom of Aragon, and +the city of Saragossa, where there were to be certain solemn joustings at +the festival of St. George, at which he might win renown above all the +knights of Aragon, which would be winning it above all the knights of the +world. He commended his very praiseworthy and gallant resolution, but +admonished him to proceed with greater caution in encountering dangers, +because his life did not belong to him, but to all those who had need of +him to protect and aid them in their misfortunes. + +"There's where it is, what I abominate, Senor Samson," said Sancho here; +"my master will attack a hundred armed men as a greedy boy would half a +dozen melons. Body of the world, senor bachelor! there is a time to +attack and a time to retreat, and it is not to be always 'Santiago, and +close Spain!' Moreover, I have heard it said (and I think by my master +himself, if I remember rightly) that the mean of valour lies between the +extremes of cowardice and rashness; and if that be so, I don't want him +to fly without having good reason, or to attack when the odds make it +better not. But, above all things, I warn my master that if he is to take +me with him it must be on the condition that he is to do all the +fighting, and that I am not to be called upon to do anything except what +concerns keeping him clean and comfortable; in this I will dance +attendance on him readily; but to expect me to draw sword, even against +rascally churls of the hatchet and hood, is idle. I don't set up to be a +fighting man, Senor Samson, but only the best and most loyal squire that +ever served knight-errant; and if my master Don Quixote, in consideration +of my many faithful services, is pleased to give me some island of the +many his worship says one may stumble on in these parts, I will take it +as a great favour; and if he does not give it to me, I was born like +everyone else, and a man must not live in dependence on anyone except +God; and what is more, my bread will taste as well, and perhaps even +better, without a government than if I were a governor; and how do I know +but that in these governments the devil may have prepared some trip for +me, to make me lose my footing and fall and knock my grinders out? Sancho +I was born and Sancho I mean to die. But for all that, if heaven were to +make me a fair offer of an island or something else of the kind, without +much trouble and without much risk, I am not such a fool as to refuse it; +for they say, too, 'when they offer thee a heifer, run with a halter; and +'when good luck comes to thee, take it in.'" + +"Brother Sancho," said Carrasco, "you have spoken like a professor; but, +for all that, put your trust in God and in Senor Don Quixote, for he will +give you a kingdom, not to say an island." + +"It is all the same, be it more or be it less," replied Sancho; "though I +can tell Senor Carrasco that my master would not throw the kingdom he +might give me into a sack all in holes; for I have felt my own pulse and +I find myself sound enough to rule kingdoms and govern islands; and I +have before now told my master as much." + +"Take care, Sancho," said Samson; "honours change manners, and perhaps +when you find yourself a governor you won't know the mother that bore +you." + +"That may hold good of those that are born in the ditches," said Sancho, +"not of those who have the fat of an old Christian four fingers deep on +their souls, as I have. Nay, only look at my disposition, is that likely +to show ingratitude to anyone?" + +"God grant it," said Don Quixote; "we shall see when the government +comes; and I seem to see it already." + +He then begged the bachelor, if he were a poet, to do him the favour of +composing some verses for him conveying the farewell he meant to take of +his lady Dulcinea del Toboso, and to see that a letter of her name was +placed at the beginning of each line, so that, at the end of the verses, +"Dulcinea del Toboso" might be read by putting together the first +letters. The bachelor replied that although he was not one of the famous +poets of Spain, who were, they said, only three and a half, he would not +fail to compose the required verses; though he saw a great difficulty in +the task, as the letters which made up the name were seventeen; so, if he +made four ballad stanzas of four lines each, there would be a letter +over, and if he made them of five, what they called decimas or +redondillas, there were three letters short; nevertheless he would try to +drop a letter as well as he could, so that the name "Dulcinea del Toboso" +might be got into four ballad stanzas. + +"It must be, by some means or other," said Don Quixote, "for unless the +name stands there plain and manifest, no woman would believe the verses +were made for her." + +They agreed upon this, and that the departure should take place in three +days from that time. Don Quixote charged the bachelor to keep it a +secret, especially from the curate and Master Nicholas, and from his +niece and the housekeeper, lest they should prevent the execution of his +praiseworthy and valiant purpose. Carrasco promised all, and then took +his leave, charging Don Quixote to inform him of his good or evil +fortunes whenever he had an opportunity; and thus they bade each other +farewell, and Sancho went away to make the necessary preparations for +their expedition. + +Chapter V. - +Of the shrewd and droll conversation that passed between Sancho Panza and +his wife Teresa Panza, and other matters worthy of being duly recorded + +The translator of this history, when he comes to write this fifth +chapter, says that he considers it apocryphal, because in it Sancho Panza +speaks in a style unlike that which might have been expected from his +limited intelligence, and says things so subtle that he does not think it +possible he could have conceived them; however, desirous of doing what +his task imposed upon him, he was unwilling to leave it untranslated, and +therefore he went on to say: + +Sancho came home in such glee and spirits that his wife noticed his +happiness a bowshot off, so much so that it made her ask him, "What have +you got, Sancho friend, that you are so glad?" + +To which he replied, "Wife, if it were God's will, I should be very glad +not to be so well pleased as I show myself." + +"I don't understand you, husband," said she, "and I don't know what you +mean by saying you would be glad, if it were God's will, not to be well +pleased; for, fool as I am, I don't know how one can find pleasure in not +having it." + +"Hark ye, Teresa," replied Sancho, "I am glad because I have made up my +mind to go back to the service of my master Don Quixote, who means to go +out a third time to seek for adventures; and I am going with him again, +for my necessities will have it so, and also the hope that cheers me with +the thought that I may find another hundred crowns like those we have +spent; though it makes me sad to have to leave thee and the children; and +if God would be pleased to let me have my daily bread, dry-shod and at +home, without taking me out into the byways and cross-roads--and he could +do it at small cost by merely willing it--it is clear my happiness would +be more solid and lasting, for the happiness I have is mingled with +sorrow at leaving thee; so that I was right in saying I would be glad, if +it were God's will, not to be well pleased." + +"Look here, Sancho," said Teresa; "ever since you joined on to a +knight-errant you talk in such a roundabout way that there is no +understanding you." + +"It is enough that God understands me, wife," replied Sancho; "for he is +the understander of all things; that will do; but mind, sister, you must +look to Dapple carefully for the next three days, so that he may be fit +to take arms; double his feed, and see to the pack-saddle and other +harness, for it is not to a wedding we are bound, but to go round the +world, and play at give and take with giants and dragons and monsters, +and hear hissings and roarings and bellowings and howlings; and even all +this would be lavender, if we had not to reckon with Yanguesans and +enchanted Moors." + +"I know well enough, husband," said Teresa, "that squires-errant don't +eat their bread for nothing, and so I will be always praying to our Lord +to deliver you speedily from all that hard fortune." + +"I can tell you, wife," said Sancho, "if I did not expect to see myself +governor of an island before long, I would drop down dead on the spot." + +"Nay, then, husband," said Teresa; "let the hen live, though it be with +her pip, live, and let the devil take all the governments in the world; +you came out of your mother's womb without a government, you have lived +until now without a government, and when it is God's will you will go, or +be carried, to your grave without a government. How many there are in the +world who live without a government, and continue to live all the same, +and are reckoned in the number of the people. The best sauce in the world +is hunger, and as the poor are never without that, they always eat with a +relish. But mind, Sancho, if by good luck you should find yourself with +some government, don't forget me and your children. Remember that +Sanchico is now full fifteen, and it is right he should go to school, if +his uncle the abbot has a mind to have him trained for the Church. +Consider, too, that your daughter Mari-Sancha will not die of grief if we +marry her; for I have my suspicions that she is as eager to get a husband +as you to get a government; and, after all, a daughter looks better ill +married than well whored." + +"By my faith," replied Sancho, "if God brings me to get any sort of a +government, I intend, wife, to make such a high match for Mari-Sancha +that there will be no approaching her without calling her 'my lady." + +"Nay, Sancho," returned Teresa; "marry her to her equal, that is the +safest plan; for if you put her out of wooden clogs into high-heeled +shoes, out of her grey flannel petticoat into hoops and silk gowns, out +of the plain 'Marica' and 'thou,' into 'Dona So-and-so' and 'my lady,' +the girl won't know where she is, and at every turn she will fall into a +thousand blunders that will show the thread of her coarse homespun +stuff." + +"Tut, you fool," said Sancho; "it will be only to practise it for two or +three years; and then dignity and decorum will fit her as easily as a +glove; and if not, what matter? Let her he 'my lady,' and never mind what +happens." + +"Keep to your own station, Sancho," replied Teresa; "don't try to raise +yourself higher, and bear in mind the proverb that says, 'wipe the nose +of your neigbbour's son, and take him into your house.' A fine thing it +would be, indeed, to marry our Maria to some great count or grand +gentleman, who, when the humour took him, would abuse her and call her +clown-bred and clodhopper's daughter and spinning wench. I have not been +bringing up my daughter for that all this time, I can tell you, husband. +Do you bring home money, Sancho, and leave marrying her to my care; there +is Lope Tocho, Juan Tocho's son, a stout, sturdy young fellow that we +know, and I can see he does not look sour at the girl; and with him, one +of our own sort, she will be well married, and we shall have her always +under our eyes, and be all one family, parents and children, +grandchildren and sons-in-law, and the peace and blessing of God will +dwell among us; so don't you go marrying her in those courts and grand +palaces where they won't know what to make of her, or she what to make of +herself." + +"Why, you idiot and wife for Barabbas," said Sancho, "what do you mean by +trying, without why or wherefore, to keep me from marrying my daughter to +one who will give me grandchildren that will be called 'your lordship'? +Look ye, Teresa, I have always heard my elders say that he who does not +know how to take advantage of luck when it comes to him, has no right to +complain if it gives him the go-by; and now that it is knocking at our +door, it will not do to shut it out; let us go with the favouring breeze +that blows upon us." + +It is this sort of talk, and what Sancho says lower down, that made the +translator of the history say he considered this chapter apocryphal. + +"Don't you see, you animal," continued Sancho, "that it will be well for +me to drop into some profitable government that will lift us out of the +mire, and marry Mari-Sancha to whom I like; and you yourself will find +yourself called 'Dona Teresa Panza,' and sitting in church on a fine +carpet and cushions and draperies, in spite and in defiance of all the +born ladies of the town? No, stay as you are, growing neither greater nor +less, like a tapestry figure--Let us say no more about it, for Sanchica +shall be a countess, say what you will." + +"Are you sure of all you say, husband?" replied Teresa. "Well, for all +that, I am afraid this rank of countess for my daughter will be her ruin. +You do as you like, make a duchess or a princess of her, but I can tell +you it will not be with my will and consent. I was always a lover of +equality, brother, and I can't bear to see people give themselves airs +without any right. They called me Teresa at my baptism, a plain, simple +name, without any additions or tags or fringes of Dons or Donas; Cascajo +was my father's name, and as I am your wife, I am called Teresa Panza, +though by right I ought to be called Teresa Cascajo; but 'kings go where +laws like,' and I am content with this name without having the 'Don' put +on top of it to make it so heavy that I cannot carry it; and I don't want +to make people talk about me when they see me go dressed like a countess +or governor's wife; for they will say at once, 'See what airs the slut +gives herself! Only yesterday she was always spinning flax, and used to +go to mass with the tail of her petticoat over her head instead of a +mantle, and there she goes to-day in a hooped gown with her broaches and +airs, as if we didn't know her!' If God keeps me in my seven senses, or +five, or whatever number I have, I am not going to bring myself to such a +pass; go you, brother, and be a government or an island man, and swagger +as much as you like; for by the soul of my mother, neither my daughter +nor I are going to stir a step from our village; a respectable woman +should have a broken leg and keep at home; and to be busy at something is +a virtuous damsel's holiday; be off to your adventures along with your +Don Quixote, and leave us to our misadventures, for God will mend them +for us according as we deserve it. I don't know, I'm sure, who fixed the +'Don' to him, what neither his father nor grandfather ever had." + +"I declare thou hast a devil of some sort in thy body!" said Sancho. "God +help thee, what a lot of things thou hast strung together, one after the +other, without head or tail! What have Cascajo, and the broaches and the +proverbs and the airs, to do with what I say? Look here, fool and dolt +(for so I may call you, when you don't understand my words, and run away +from good fortune), if I had said that my daughter was to throw herself +down from a tower, or go roaming the world, as the Infanta Dona Urraca +wanted to do, you would be right in not giving way to my will; but if in +an instant, in less than the twinkling of an eye, I put the 'Don' and 'my +lady' on her back, and take her out of the stubble, and place her under a +canopy, on a dais, and on a couch, with more velvet cushions than all the +Almohades of Morocco ever had in their family, why won't you consent and +fall in with my wishes?" + +"Do you know why, husband?" replied Teresa; "because of the proverb that +says 'who covers thee, discovers thee.' At the poor man people only throw +a hasty glance; on the rich man they fix their eyes; and if the said rich +man was once on a time poor, it is then there is the sneering and the +tattle and spite of backbiters; and in the streets here they swarm as +thick as bees." + +"Look here, Teresa," said Sancho, "and listen to what I am now going to +say to you; maybe you never heard it in all your life; and I do not give +my own notions, for what I am about to say are the opinions of his +reverence the preacher, who preached in this town last Lent, and who +said, if I remember rightly, that all things present that our eyes +behold, bring themselves before us, and remain and fix themselves on our +memory much better and more forcibly than things past." + +These observations which Sancho makes here are the other ones on account +of which the translator says he regards this chapter as apocryphal, +inasmuch as they are beyond Sancho's capacity. + +"Whence it arises," he continued, "that when we see any person well +dressed and making a figure with rich garments and retinue of servants, +it seems to lead and impel us perforce to respect him, though memory may +at the same moment recall to us some lowly condition in which we have +seen him, but which, whether it may have been poverty or low birth, being +now a thing of the past, has no existence; while the only thing that has +any existence is what we see before us; and if this person whom fortune +has raised from his original lowly state (these were the very words the +padre used) to his present height of prosperity, be well bred, generous, +courteous to all, without seeking to vie with those whose nobility is of +ancient date, depend upon it, Teresa, no one will remember what he was, +and everyone will respect what he is, except indeed the envious, from +whom no fair fortune is safe." + +"I do not understand you, husband," replied Teresa; "do as you like, and +don't break my head with any more speechifying and rethoric; and if you +have revolved to do what you say-" + +"Resolved, you should say, woman," said Sancho, "not revolved." + +"Don't set yourself to wrangle with me, husband," said Teresa; "I speak +as God pleases, and don't deal in out-of-the-way phrases; and I say if +you are bent upon having a government, take your son Sancho with you, and +teach him from this time on how to hold a government; for sons ought to +inherit and learn the trades of their fathers." + +"As soon as I have the government," said Sancho, "I will send for him by +post, and I will send thee money, of which I shall have no lack, for +there is never any want of people to lend it to governors when they have +not got it; and do thou dress him so as to hide what he is and make him +look what he is to be." + +"You send the money," said Teresa, "and I'll dress him up for you as fine +as you please." + +"Then we are agreed that our daughter is to be a countess," said Sancho. + +"The day that I see her a countess," replied Teresa, "it will be the same +to me as if I was burying her; but once more I say do as you please, for +we women are born to this burden of being obedient to our husbands, +though they be dogs;" and with this she began to weep in earnest, as if +she already saw Sanchica dead and buried. + +Sancho consoled her by saying that though he must make her a countess, he +would put it off as long as possible. Here their conversation came to an +end, and Sancho went back to see Don Quixote, and make arrangements for +their departure. + +Chapter VI. - +Of what took place between Don Quixote and his niece and housekeeper; one +of the most important chapters in the whole history + +While Sancho Panza and his wife, Teresa Cascajo, held the above +irrelevant conversation, Don Quixote's niece and housekeeper were not +idle, for by a thousand signs they began to perceive that their uncle and +master meant to give them the slip the third time, and once more betake +himself to his, for them, ill-errant chivalry. They strove by all the +means in their power to divert him from such an unlucky scheme; but it +was all preaching in the desert and hammering cold iron. Nevertheless, +among many other representations made to him, the housekeeper said to +him, "In truth, master, if you do not keep still and stay quiet at home, +and give over roaming mountains and valleys like a troubled spirit, +looking for what they say are called adventures, but what I call +misfortunes, I shall have to make complaint to God and the king with loud +supplication to send some remedy." + +To which Don Quixote replied, "What answer God will give to your +complaints, housekeeper, I know not, nor what his Majesty will answer +either; I only know that if I were king I should decline to answer the +numberless silly petitions they present every day; for one of the +greatest among the many troubles kings have is being obliged to listen to +all and answer all, and therefore I should be sorry that any affairs of +mine should worry him." + +Whereupon the housekeeper said, "Tell us, senor, at his Majesty's court +are there no knights?" + +"There are," replied Don Quixote, "and plenty of them; and it is right +there should be, to set off the dignity of the prince, and for the +greater glory of the king's majesty." + +"Then might not your worship," said she, "be one of those that, without +stirring a step, serve their king and lord in his court?" + +"Recollect, my friend," said Don Quixote, "all knights cannot be +courtiers, nor can all courtiers be knights-errant, nor need they be. +There must be all sorts in the world; and though we may be all knights, +there is a great difference between one and another; for the courtiers, +without quitting their chambers, or the threshold of the court, range the +world over by looking at a map, without its costing them a farthing, and +without suffering heat or cold, hunger or thirst; but we, the true +knights-errant, measure the whole earth with our own feet, exposed to the +sun, to the cold, to the air, to the inclemencies of heaven, by day and +night, on foot and on horseback; nor do we only know enemies in pictures, +but in their own real shapes; and at all risks and on all occasions we +attack them, without any regard to childish points or rules of single +combat, whether one has or has not a shorter lance or sword, whether one +carries relics or any secret contrivance about him, whether or not the +sun is to be divided and portioned out, and other niceties of the sort +that are observed in set combats of man to man, that you know nothing +about, but I do. And you must know besides, that the true knight-errant, +though he may see ten giants, that not only touch the clouds with their +heads but pierce them, and that go, each of them, on two tall towers by +way of legs, and whose arms are like the masts of mighty ships, and each +eye like a great mill-wheel, and glowing brighter than a glass furnace, +must not on any account be dismayed by them. On the contrary, he must +attack and fall upon them with a gallant bearing and a fearless heart, +and, if possible, vanquish and destroy them, even though they have for +armour the shells of a certain fish, that they say are harder than +diamonds, and in place of swords wield trenchant blades of Damascus +steel, or clubs studded with spikes also of steel, such as I have more +than once seen. All this I say, housekeeper, that you may see the +difference there is between the one sort of knight and the other; and it +would be well if there were no prince who did not set a higher value on +this second, or more properly speaking first, kind of knights-errant; +for, as we read in their histories, there have been some among them who +have been the salvation, not merely of one kingdom, but of many." + +"Ah, senor," here exclaimed the niece, "remember that all this you are +saying about knights-errant is fable and fiction; and their histories, if +indeed they were not burned, would deserve, each of them, to have a +sambenito put on it, or some mark by which it might be known as infamous +and a corrupter of good manners." + +"By the God that gives me life," said Don Quixote, "if thou wert not my +full niece, being daughter of my own sister, I would inflict a +chastisement upon thee for the blasphemy thou hast uttered that all the +world should ring with. What! can it be that a young hussy that hardly +knows how to handle a dozen lace-bobbins dares to wag her tongue and +criticise the histories of knights-errant? What would Senor Amadis say if +he heard of such a thing? He, however, no doubt would forgive thee, for +he was the most humble-minded and courteous knight of his time, and +moreover a great protector of damsels; but some there are that might have +heard thee, and it would not have been well for thee in that case; for +they are not all courteous or mannerly; some are ill-conditioned +scoundrels; nor is it everyone that calls himself a gentleman, that is so +in all respects; some are gold, others pinchbeck, and all look like +gentlemen, but not all can stand the touchstone of truth. There are men +of low rank who strain themselves to bursting to pass for gentlemen, and +high gentlemen who, one would fancy, were dying to pass for men of low +rank; the former raise themselves by their ambition or by their virtues, +the latter debase themselves by their lack of spirit or by their vices; +and one has need of experience and discernment to distinguish these two +kinds of gentlemen, so much alike in name and so different in conduct." + +"God bless me!" said the niece, "that you should know so much, +uncle--enough, if need be, to get up into a pulpit and go preach in the +streets--and yet that you should fall into a delusion so great and a +folly so manifest as to try to make yourself out vigorous when you are +old, strong when you are sickly, able to put straight what is crooked +when you yourself are bent by age, and, above all, a caballero when you +are not one; for though gentlefolk may be so, poor men are nothing of the +kind!" + +"There is a great deal of truth in what you say, niece," returned Don +Quixote, "and I could tell you somewhat about birth that would astonish +you; but, not to mix up things human and divine, I refrain. Look you, my +dears, all the lineages in the world (attend to what I am saying) can be +reduced to four sorts, which are these: those that had humble beginnings, +and went on spreading and extending themselves until they attained +surpassing greatness; those that had great beginnings and maintained +them, and still maintain and uphold the greatness of their origin; those, +again, that from a great beginning have ended in a point like a pyramid, +having reduced and lessened their original greatness till it has come to +nought, like the point of a pyramid, which, relatively to its base or +foundation, is nothing; and then there are those--and it is they that are +the most numerous--that have had neither an illustrious beginning nor a +remarkable mid-course, and so will have an end without a name, like an +ordinary plebeian line. Of the first, those that had an humble origin and +rose to the greatness they still preserve, the Ottoman house may serve as +an example, which from an humble and lowly shepherd, its founder, has +reached the height at which we now see it. For examples of the second +sort of lineage, that began with greatness and maintains it still without +adding to it, there are the many princes who have inherited the dignity, +and maintain themselves in their inheritance, without increasing or +diminishing it, keeping peacefully within the limits of their states. Of +those that began great and ended in a point, there are thousands of +examples, for all the Pharaohs and Ptolemies of Egypt, the Caesars of +Rome, and the whole herd (if I may such a word to them) of countless +princes, monarchs, lords, Medes, Assyrians, Persians, Greeks, and +barbarians, all these lineages and lordships have ended in a point and +come to nothing, they themselves as well as their founders, for it would +be impossible now to find one of their descendants, and, even should we +find one, it would be in some lowly and humble condition. Of plebeian +lineages I have nothing to say, save that they merely serve to swell the +number of those that live, without any eminence to entitle them to any +fame or praise beyond this. From all I have said I would have you gather, +my poor innocents, that great is the confusion among lineages, and that +only those are seen to be great and illustrious that show themselves so +by the virtue, wealth, and generosity of their possessors. I have said +virtue, wealth, and generosity, because a great man who is vicious will +be a great example of vice, and a rich man who is not generous will be +merely a miserly beggar; for the possessor of wealth is not made happy by +possessing it, but by spending it, and not by spending as he pleases, but +by knowing how to spend it well. The poor gentleman has no way of showing +that he is a gentleman but by virtue, by being affable, well-bred, +courteous, gentle-mannered, and kindly, not haughty, arrogant, or +censorious, but above all by being charitable; for by two maravedis given +with a cheerful heart to the poor, he will show himself as generous as he +who distributes alms with bell-ringing, and no one that perceives him to +be endowed with the virtues I have named, even though he know him not, +will fail to recognise and set him down as one of good blood; and it +would be strange were it not so; praise has ever been the reward of +virtue, and those who are virtuous cannot fail to receive commendation. +There are two roads, my daughters, by which men may reach wealth and +honours; one is that of letters, the other that of arms. I have more of +arms than of letters in my composition, and, judging by my inclination to +arms, was born under the influence of the planet Mars. I am, therefore, +in a measure constrained to follow that road, and by it I must travel in +spite of all the world, and it will be labour in vain for you to urge me +to resist what heaven wills, fate ordains, reason requires, and, above +all, my own inclination favours; for knowing as I do the countless toils +that are the accompaniments of knight-errantry, I know, too, the infinite +blessings that are attained by it; I know that the path of virtue is very +narrow, and the road of vice broad and spacious; I know their ends and +goals are different, for the broad and easy road of vice ends in death, +and the narrow and toilsome one of virtue in life, and not transitory +life, but in that which has no end; I know, as our great Castilian poet +says, that-- + +It is by rugged paths like these they go +That scale the heights of immortality, +Unreached by those that falter here below." + +"Woe is me!" exclaimed the niece, "my lord is a poet, too! He knows +everything, and he can do everything; I will bet, if he chose to turn +mason, he could make a house as easily as a cage." + +"I can tell you, niece," replied Don Quixote, "if these chivalrous +thoughts did not engage all my faculties, there would be nothing that I +could not do, nor any sort of knickknack that would not come from my +hands, particularly cages and tooth-picks." + +At this moment there came a knocking at the door, and when they asked who +was there, Sancho Panza made answer that it was he. The instant the +housekeeper knew who it was, she ran to hide herself so as not to see +him; in such abhorrence did she hold him. The niece let him in, and his +master Don Quixote came forward to receive him with open arms, and the +pair shut themselves up in his room, where they had another conversation +not inferior to the previous one. + +Chapter VII. - +Of what passed between Don Quixote and his Squire, together with other +very notable incidents + +The instant the housekeeper saw Sancho Panza shut himself in with her +master, she guessed what they were about; and suspecting that the result +of the consultation would be a resolve to undertake a third sally, she +seized her mantle, and in deep anxiety and distress, ran to find the +bachelor Samson Carrasco, as she thought that, being a well-spoken man, +and a new friend of her master's, he might be able to persuade him to +give up any such crazy notion. She found him pacing the patio of his +house, and, perspiring and flurried, she fell at his feet the moment she +saw him. + +Carrasco, seeing how distressed and overcome she was, said to her, "What +is this, mistress housekeeper? What has happened to you? One would think +you heart-broken." + +"Nothing, Senor Samson," said she, "only that my master is breaking out, +plainly breaking out." + +"Whereabouts is he breaking out, senora?" asked Samson; "has any part of +his body burst?" + +"He is only breaking out at the door of his madness," she replied; "I +mean, dear senor bachelor, that he is going to break out again (and this +will be the third time) to hunt all over the world for what he calls +ventures, though I can't make out why he gives them that name. The first +time he was brought back to us slung across the back of an ass, and +belaboured all over; and the second time he came in an ox-cart, shut up +in a cage, in which he persuaded himself he was enchanted, and the poor +creature was in such a state that the mother that bore him would not have +known him; lean, yellow, with his eyes sunk deep in the cells of his +skull; so that to bring him round again, ever so little, cost me more +than six hundred eggs, as God knows, and all the world, and my hens too, +that won't let me tell a lie." + +"That I can well believe," replied the bachelor, "for they are so good +and so fat, and so well-bred, that they would not say one thing for +another, though they were to burst for it. In short then, mistress +housekeeper, that is all, and there is nothing the matter, except what it +is feared Don Quixote may do?" + +"No, senor," said she. + +"Well then," returned the bachelor, "don't be uneasy, but go home in +peace; get me ready something hot for breakfast, and while you are on the +way say the prayer of Santa Apollonia, that is if you know it; for I will +come presently and you will see miracles." + +"Woe is me," cried the housekeeper, "is it the prayer of Santa Apollonia +you would have me say? That would do if it was the toothache my master +had; but it is in the brains, what he has got." + +"I know what I am saying, mistress housekeeper; go, and don't set +yourself to argue with me, for you know I am a bachelor of Salamanca, and +one can't be more of a bachelor than that," replied Carrasco; and with +this the housekeeper retired, and the bachelor went to look for the +curate, and arrange with him what will be told in its proper place. + +While Don Quixote and Sancho were shut up together, they had a discussion +which the history records with great precision and scrupulous exactness. +Sancho said to his master, "Senor, I have educed my wife to let me go +with your worship wherever you choose to take me." + +"Induced, you should say, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "not educed." + +"Once or twice, as well as I remember," replied Sancho, "I have begged of +your worship not to mend my words, if so be as you understand what I mean +by them; and if you don't understand them to say 'Sancho,' or 'devil,' 'I +don't understand thee; and if I don't make my meaning plain, then you may +correct me, for I am so focile-" + +"I don't understand thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote at once; "for I know +not what 'I am so focile' means." + +"'So focile' means I am so much that way," replied Sancho. + +"I understand thee still less now," said Don Quixote. + +"Well, if you can't understand me," said Sancho, "I don't know how to put +it; I know no more, God help me." + +"Oh, now I have hit it," said Don Quixote; "thou wouldst say thou art so +docile, tractable, and gentle that thou wilt take what I say to thee, and +submit to what I teach thee." + +"I would bet," said Sancho, "that from the very first you understood me, +and knew what I meant, but you wanted to put me out that you might hear +me make another couple of dozen blunders." + +"May be so," replied Don Quixote; "but to come to the point, what does +Teresa say?" + +"Teresa says," replied Sancho, "that I should make sure with your +worship, and 'let papers speak and beards be still,' for 'he who binds +does not wrangle,' since one 'take' is better than two 'I'll give +thee's;' and I say a woman's advice is no great thing, and he who won't +take it is a fool." + +"And so say I," said Don Quixote; "continue, Sancho my friend; go on; you +talk pearls to-day." + +"The fact is," continued Sancho, "that, as your worship knows better than +I do, we are all of us liable to death, and to-day we are, and to-morrow +we are not, and the lamb goes as soon as the sheep, and nobody can +promise himself more hours of life in this world than God may be pleased +to give him; for death is deaf, and when it comes to knock at our life's +door, it is always urgent, and neither prayers, nor struggles, nor +sceptres, nor mitres, can keep it back, as common talk and report say, +and as they tell us from the pulpits every day." + +"All that is very true," said Don Quixote; "but I cannot make out what +thou art driving at." + +"What I am driving at," said Sancho, "is that your worship settle some +fixed wages for me, to be paid monthly while I am in your service, and +that the same he paid me out of your estate; for I don't care to stand on +rewards which either come late, or ill, or never at all; God help me with +my own. In short, I would like to know what I am to get, be it much or +little; for the hen will lay on one egg, and many littles make a much, +and so long as one gains something there is nothing lost. To be sure, if +it should happen (what I neither believe nor expect) that your worship +were to give me that island you have promised me, I am not so ungrateful +nor so grasping but that I would be willing to have the revenue of such +island valued and stopped out of my wages in due promotion." + +"Sancho, my friend," replied Don Quixote, "sometimes proportion may be as +good as promotion." + +"I see," said Sancho; "I'll bet I ought to have said proportion, and not +promotion; but it is no matter, as your worship has understood me." + +"And so well understood," returned Don Quixote, "that I have seen into +the depths of thy thoughts, and know the mark thou art shooting at with +the countless shafts of thy proverbs. Look here, Sancho, I would readily +fix thy wages if I had ever found any instance in the histories of the +knights-errant to show or indicate, by the slightest hint, what their +squires used to get monthly or yearly; but I have read all or the best +part of their histories, and I cannot remember reading of any +knight-errant having assigned fixed wages to his squire; I only know that +they all served on reward, and that when they least expected it, if good +luck attended their masters, they found themselves recompensed with an +island or something equivalent to it, or at the least they were left with +a title and lordship. If with these hopes and additional inducements you, +Sancho, please to return to my service, well and good; but to suppose +that I am going to disturb or unhinge the ancient usage of +knight-errantry, is all nonsense. And so, my Sancho, get you back to your +house and explain my intentions to your Teresa, and if she likes and you +like to be on reward with me, bene quidem; if not, we remain friends; for +if the pigeon-house does not lack food, it will not lack pigeons; and +bear in mind, my son, that a good hope is better than a bad holding, and +a good grievance better than a bad compensation. I speak in this way, +Sancho, to show you that I can shower down proverbs just as well as +yourself; and in short, I mean to say, and I do say, that if you don't +like to come on reward with me, and run the same chance that I run, God +be with you and make a saint of you; for I shall find plenty of squires +more obedient and painstaking, and not so thickheaded or talkative as you +are." + +When Sancho heard his master's firm, resolute language, a cloud came over +the sky with him and the wings of his heart drooped, for he had made sure +that his master would not go without him for all the wealth of the world; +and as he stood there dumbfoundered and moody, Samson Carrasco came in +with the housekeeper and niece, who were anxious to hear by what +arguments he was about to dissuade their master from going to seek +adventures. The arch wag Samson came forward, and embracing him as he had +done before, said with a loud voice, "O flower of knight-errantry! O +shining light of arms! O honour and mirror of the Spanish nation! may God +Almighty in his infinite power grant that any person or persons, who +would impede or hinder thy third sally, may find no way out of the +labyrinth of their schemes, nor ever accomplish what they most desire!" +And then, turning to the housekeeper, he said, "Mistress housekeeper may +just as well give over saying the prayer of Santa Apollonia, for I know +it is the positive determination of the spheres that Senor Don Quixote +shall proceed to put into execution his new and lofty designs; and I +should lay a heavy burden on my conscience did I not urge and persuade +this knight not to keep the might of his strong arm and the virtue of his +valiant spirit any longer curbed and checked, for by his inactivity he is +defrauding the world of the redress of wrongs, of the protection of +orphans, of the honour of virgins, of the aid of widows, and of the +support of wives, and other matters of this kind appertaining, belonging, +proper and peculiar to the order of knight-errantry. On, then, my lord +Don Quixote, beautiful and brave, let your worship and highness set out +to-day rather than to-morrow; and if anything be needed for the execution +of your purpose, here am I ready in person and purse to supply the want; +and were it requisite to attend your magnificence as squire, I should +esteem it the happiest good fortune." + +At this, Don Quixote, turning to Sancho, said, "Did I not tell thee, +Sancho, there would be squires enough and to spare for me? See now who +offers to become one; no less than the illustrious bachelor Samson +Carrasco, the perpetual joy and delight of the courts of the Salamancan +schools, sound in body, discreet, patient under heat or cold, hunger or +thirst, with all the qualifications requisite to make a knight-errant's +squire! But heaven forbid that, to gratify my own inclination, I should +shake or shatter this pillar of letters and vessel of the sciences, and +cut down this towering palm of the fair and liberal arts. Let this new +Samson remain in his own country, and, bringing honour to it, bring +honour at the same time on the grey heads of his venerable parents; for I +will be content with any squire that comes to hand, as Sancho does not +deign to accompany me." + +"I do deign," said Sancho, deeply moved and with tears in his eyes; "it +shall not be said of me, master mine," he continued, "'the bread eaten +and the company dispersed.' Nay, I come of no ungrateful stock, for all +the world knows, but particularly my own town, who the Panzas from whom I +am descended were; and, what is more, I know and have learned, by many +good words and deeds, your worship's desire to show me favour; and if I +have been bargaining more or less about my wages, it was only to please +my wife, who, when she sets herself to press a point, no hammer drives +the hoops of a cask as she drives one to do what she wants; but, after +all, a man must be a man, and a woman a woman; and as I am a man anyhow, +which I can't deny, I will be one in my own house too, let who will take +it amiss; and so there's nothing more to do but for your worship to make +your will with its codicil in such a way that it can't be provoked, and +let us set out at once, to save Senor Samson's soul from suffering, as he +says his conscience obliges him to persuade your worship to sally out +upon the world a third time; so I offer again to serve your worship +faithfully and loyally, as well and better than all the squires that +served knights-errant in times past or present." + +The bachelor was filled with amazement when he heard Sancho's phraseology +and style of talk, for though he had read the first part of his master's +history he never thought that he could be so droll as he was there +described; but now, hearing him talk of a "will and codicil that could +not be provoked," instead of "will and codicil that could not be +revoked," he believed all he had read of him, and set him down as one of +the greatest simpletons of modern times; and he said to himself that two +such lunatics as master and man the world had never seen. In fine, Don +Quixote and Sancho embraced one another and made friends, and by the +advice and with the approval of the great Carrasco, who was now their +oracle, it was arranged that their departure should take place three days +thence, by which time they could have all that was requisite for the +journey ready, and procure a closed helmet, which Don Quixote said he +must by all means take. Samson offered him one, as he knew a friend of +his who had it would not refuse it to him, though it was more dingy with +rust and mildew than bright and clean like burnished steel. + +The curses which both housekeeper and niece poured out on the bachelor +were past counting; they tore their hair, they clawed their faces, and in +the style of the hired mourners that were once in fashion, they raised a +lamentation over the departure of their master and uncle, as if it had +been his death. Samson's intention in persuading him to sally forth once +more was to do what the history relates farther on; all by the advice of +the curate and barber, with whom he had previously discussed the subject. +Finally, then, during those three days, Don Quixote and Sancho provided +themselves with what they considered necessary, and Sancho having +pacified his wife, and Don Quixote his niece and housekeeper, at +nightfall, unseen by anyone except the bachelor, who thought fit to +accompany them half a league out of the village, they set out for El +Toboso, Don Quixote on his good Rocinante and Sancho on his old Dapple, +his alforjas furnished with certain matters in the way of victuals, and +his purse with money that Don Quixote gave him to meet emergencies. +Samson embraced him, and entreated him to let him hear of his good or +evil fortunes, so that he might rejoice over the former or condole with +him over the latter, as the laws of friendship required. Don Quixote +promised him he would do so, and Samson returned to the village, and the +other two took the road for the great city of El Toboso. + +Chapter VIII. - +Wherein is related what befell don quixote on his way to see his lady +Dulcinea Del Toboso + +"Blessed be Allah the all-powerful!" says Hamete Benengeli on beginning +this eighth chapter; "blessed be Allah!" he repeats three times; and he +says he utters these thanksgivings at seeing that he has now got Don +Quixote and Sancho fairly afield, and that the readers of his delightful +history may reckon that the achievements and humours of Don Quixote and +his squire are now about to begin; and he urges them to forget the former +chivalries of the ingenious gentleman and to fix their eyes on those that +are to come, which now begin on the road to El Toboso, as the others +began on the plains of Montiel; nor is it much that he asks in +consideration of all he promises, and so he goes on to say: + +Don Quixote and Sancho were left alone, and the moment Samson took his +departure, Rocinante began to neigh, and Dapple to sigh, which, by both +knight and squire, was accepted as a good sign and a very happy omen; +though, if the truth is to be told, the sighs and brays of Dapple were +louder than the neighings of the hack, from which Sancho inferred that +his good fortune was to exceed and overtop that of his master, building, +perhaps, upon some judicial astrology that he may have known, though the +history says nothing about it; all that can be said is, that when he +stumbled or fell, he was heard to say he wished he had not come out, for +by stumbling or falling there was nothing to be got but a damaged shoe or +a broken rib; and, fool as he was, he was not much astray in this. + +Said Don Quixote, "Sancho, my friend, night is drawing on upon us as we +go, and more darkly than will allow us to reach El Toboso by daylight; +for there I am resolved to go before I engage in another adventure, and +there I shall obtain the blessing and generous permission of the peerless +Dulcinea, with which permission I expect and feel assured that I shall +conclude and bring to a happy termination every perilous adventure; for +nothing in life makes knights-errant more valorous than finding +themselves favoured by their ladies." + +"So I believe," replied Sancho; "but I think it will be difficult for +your worship to speak with her or see her, at any rate where you will be +able to receive her blessing; unless, indeed, she throws it over the wall +of the yard where I saw her the time before, when I took her the letter +that told of the follies and mad things your worship was doing in the +heart of Sierra Morena." + +"Didst thou take that for a yard wall, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "where +or at which thou sawest that never sufficiently extolled grace and +beauty? It must have been the gallery, corridor, or portico of some rich +and royal palace." + +"It might have been all that," returned Sancho, "but to me it looked like +a wall, unless I am short of memory." + +"At all events, let us go there, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for, so that +I see her, it is the same to me whether it be over a wall, or at a +window, or through the chink of a door, or the grate of a garden; for any +beam of the sun of her beauty that reaches my eyes will give light to my +reason and strength to my heart, so that I shall be unmatched and +unequalled in wisdom and valour." + +"Well, to tell the truth, senor," said Sancho, "when I saw that sun of +the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, it was not bright enough to throw out beams +at all; it must have been, that as her grace was sifting that wheat I +told you of, the thick dust she raised came before her face like a cloud +and dimmed it." + +"What! dost thou still persist, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "in saying, +thinking, believing, and maintaining that my lady Dulcinea was sifting +wheat, that being an occupation and task entirely at variance with what +is and should be the employment of persons of distinction, who are +constituted and reserved for other avocations and pursuits that show +their rank a bowshot off? Thou hast forgotten, O Sancho, those lines of +our poet wherein he paints for us how, in their crystal abodes, those +four nymphs employed themselves who rose from their loved Tagus and +seated themselves in a verdant meadow to embroider those tissues which +the ingenious poet there describes to us, how they were worked and woven +with gold and silk and pearls; and something of this sort must have been +the employment of my lady when thou sawest her, only that the spite which +some wicked enchanter seems to have against everything of mine changes +all those things that give me pleasure, and turns them into shapes unlike +their own; and so I fear that in that history of my achievements which +they say is now in print, if haply its author was some sage who is an +enemy of mine, he will have put one thing for another, mingling a +thousand lies with one truth, and amusing himself by relating +transactions which have nothing to do with the sequence of a true +history. O envy, root of all countless evils, and cankerworm of the +virtues! All the vices, Sancho, bring some kind of pleasure with them; +but envy brings nothing but irritation, bitterness, and rage." + +"So I say too," replied Sancho; "and I suspect in that legend or history +of us that the bachelor Samson Carrasco told us he saw, my honour goes +dragged in the dirt, knocked about, up and down, sweeping the streets, as +they say. And yet, on the faith of an honest man, I never spoke ill of +any enchanter, and I am not so well off that I am to be envied; to be +sure, I am rather sly, and I have a certain spice of the rogue in me; but +all is covered by the great cloak of my simplicity, always natural and +never acted; and if I had no other merit save that I believe, as I always +do, firmly and truly in God, and all the holy Roman Catholic Church holds +and believes, and that I am a mortal enemy of the Jews, the historians +ought to have mercy on me and treat me well in their writings. But let +them say what they like; naked was I born, naked I find myself, I neither +lose nor gain; nay, while I see myself put into a book and passed on from +hand to hand over the world, I don't care a fig, let them say what they +like of me." + +"That, Sancho," returned Don Quixote, "reminds me of what happened to a +famous poet of our own day, who, having written a bitter satire against +all the courtesan ladies, did not insert or name in it a certain lady of +whom it was questionable whether she was one or not. She, seeing she was +not in the list of the poet, asked him what he had seen in her that he +did not include her in the number of the others, telling him he must add +to his satire and put her in the new part, or else look out for the +consequences. The poet did as she bade him, and left her without a shred +of reputation, and she was satisfied by getting fame though it was +infamy. In keeping with this is what they relate of that shepherd who set +fire to the famous temple of Diana, by repute one of the seven wonders of +the world, and burned it with the sole object of making his name live in +after ages; and, though it was forbidden to name him, or mention his name +by word of mouth or in writing, lest the object of his ambition should be +attained, nevertheless it became known that he was called Erostratus. And +something of the same sort is what happened in the case of the great +emperor Charles V and a gentleman in Rome. The emperor was anxious to see +that famous temple of the Rotunda, called in ancient times the temple 'of +all the gods,' but now-a-days, by a better nomenclature, 'of all the +saints,' which is the best preserved building of all those of pagan +construction in Rome, and the one which best sustains the reputation of +mighty works and magnificence of its founders. It is in the form of a +half orange, of enormous dimensions, and well lighted, though no light +penetrates it save that which is admitted by a window, or rather round +skylight, at the top; and it was from this that the emperor examined the +building. A Roman gentleman stood by his side and explained to him the +skilful construction and ingenuity of the vast fabric and its wonderful +architecture, and when they had left the skylight he said to the emperor, +'A thousand times, your Sacred Majesty, the impulse came upon me to seize +your Majesty in my arms and fling myself down from yonder skylight, so as +to leave behind me in the world a name that would last for ever.' 'I am +thankful to you for not carrying such an evil thought into effect,' said +the emperor, 'and I shall give you no opportunity in future of again +putting your loyalty to the test; and I therefore forbid you ever to +speak to me or to be where I am; and he followed up these words by +bestowing a liberal bounty upon him. My meaning is, Sancho, that the +desire of acquiring fame is a very powerful motive. What, thinkest thou, +was it that flung Horatius in full armour down from the bridge into the +depths of the Tiber? What burned the hand and arm of Mutius? What +impelled Curtius to plunge into the deep burning gulf that opened in the +midst of Rome? What, in opposition to all the omens that declared against +him, made Julius Caesar cross the Rubicon? And to come to more modern +examples, what scuttled the ships, and left stranded and cut off the +gallant Spaniards under the command of the most courteous Cortes in the +New World? All these and a variety of other great exploits are, were and +will be, the work of fame that mortals desire as a reward and a portion +of the immortality their famous deeds deserve; though we Catholic +Christians and knights-errant look more to that future glory that is +everlasting in the ethereal regions of heaven than to the vanity of the +fame that is to be acquired in this present transitory life; a fame that, +however long it may last, must after all end with the world itself, which +has its own appointed end. So that, O Sancho, in what we do we must not +overpass the bounds which the Christian religion we profess has assigned +to us. We have to slay pride in giants, envy by generosity and nobleness +of heart, anger by calmness of demeanour and equanimity, gluttony and +sloth by the spareness of our diet and the length of our vigils, lust and +lewdness by the loyalty we preserve to those whom we have made the +mistresses of our thoughts, indolence by traversing the world in all +directions seeking opportunities of making ourselves, besides Christians, +famous knights. Such, Sancho, are the means by which we reach those +extremes of praise that fair fame carries with it." + +"All that your worship has said so far," said Sancho, "I have understood +quite well; but still I would be glad if your worship would dissolve a +doubt for me, which has just this minute come into my mind." + +"Solve, thou meanest, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "say on, in God's name, +and I will answer as well as I can." + +"Tell me, senor," Sancho went on to say, "those Julys or Augusts, and all +those venturous knights that you say are now dead--where are they now?" + +"The heathens," replied Don Quixote, "are, no doubt, in hell; the +Christians, if they were good Christians, are either in purgatory or in +heaven." + +"Very good," said Sancho; "but now I want to know--the tombs where the +bodies of those great lords are, have they silver lamps before them, or +are the walls of their chapels ornamented with crutches, winding-sheets, +tresses of hair, legs and eyes in wax? Or what are they ornamented with?" + +To which Don Quixote made answer: "The tombs of the heathens were +generally sumptuous temples; the ashes of Julius Caesar's body were +placed on the top of a stone pyramid of vast size, which they now call in +Rome Saint Peter's needle. The emperor Hadrian had for a tomb a castle as +large as a good-sized village, which they called the Moles Adriani, and +is now the castle of St. Angelo in Rome. The queen Artemisia buried her +husband Mausolus in a tomb which was reckoned one of the seven wonders of +the world; but none of these tombs, or of the many others of the +heathens, were ornamented with winding-sheets or any of those other +offerings and tokens that show that they who are buried there are +saints." + +"That's the point I'm coming to," said Sancho; "and now tell me, which is +the greater work, to bring a dead man to life or to kill a giant?" + +"The answer is easy," replied Don Quixote; "it is a greater work to bring +to life a dead man." + +"Now I have got you," said Sancho; "in that case the fame of them who +bring the dead to life, who give sight to the blind, cure cripples, +restore health to the sick, and before whose tombs there are lamps +burning, and whose chapels are filled with devout folk on their knees +adoring their relics be a better fame in this life and in the other than +that which all the heathen emperors and knights-errant that have ever +been in the world have left or may leave behind them?" + +"That I grant, too," said Don Quixote. + +"Then this fame, these favours, these privileges, or whatever you call +it," said Sancho, "belong to the bodies and relics of the saints who, +with the approbation and permission of our holy mother Church, have +lamps, tapers, winding-sheets, crutches, pictures, eyes and legs, by +means of which they increase devotion and add to their own Christian +reputation. Kings carry the bodies or relics of saints on their +shoulders, and kiss bits of their bones, and enrich and adorn their +oratories and favourite altars with them." + +"What wouldst thou have me infer from all thou hast said, Sancho?" asked +Don Quixote. + +"My meaning is," said Sancho, "let us set about becoming saints, and we +shall obtain more quickly the fair fame we are striving after; for you +know, senor, yesterday or the day before yesterday (for it is so lately +one may say so) they canonised and beatified two little barefoot friars, +and it is now reckoned the greatest good luck to kiss or touch the iron +chains with which they girt and tortured their bodies, and they are held +in greater veneration, so it is said, than the sword of Roland in the +armoury of our lord the King, whom God preserve. So that, senor, it is +better to be an humble little friar of no matter what order, than a +valiant knight-errant; with God a couple of dozen of penance lashings are +of more avail than two thousand lance-thrusts, be they given to giants, +or monsters, or dragons." + +"All that is true," returned Don Quixote, "but we cannot all be friars, +and many are the ways by which God takes his own to heaven; chivalry is a +religion, there are sainted knights in glory." + +"Yes," said Sancho, "but I have heard say that there are more friars in +heaven than knights-errant." + +"That," said Don Quixote, "is because those in religious orders are more +numerous than knights." + +"The errants are many," said Sancho. + +"Many," replied Don Quixote, "but few they who deserve the name of +knights." + +With these, and other discussions of the same sort, they passed that +night and the following day, without anything worth mention happening to +them, whereat Don Quixote was not a little dejected; but at length the +next day, at daybreak, they descried the great city of El Toboso, at the +sight of which Don Quixote's spirits rose and Sancho's fell, for he did +not know Dulcinea's house, nor in all his life had he ever seen her, any +more than his master; so that they were both uneasy, the one to see her, +the other at not having seen her, and Sancho was at a loss to know what +he was to do when his master sent him to El Toboso. In the end, Don +Quixote made up his mind to enter the city at nightfall, and they waited +until the time came among some oak trees that were near El Toboso; and +when the moment they had agreed upon arrived, they made their entrance +into the city, where something happened them that may fairly be called +something. + +Chapter IX. - +Wherein is related what will be seen there + +'Twas at the very midnight hour--more or less--when Don Quixote and +Sancho quitted the wood and entered El Toboso. The town was in deep +silence, for all the inhabitants were asleep, and stretched on the broad +of their backs, as the saying is. The night was darkish, though Sancho +would have been glad had it been quite dark, so as to find in the +darkness an excuse for his blundering. All over the place nothing was to +be heard except the barking of dogs, which deafened the ears of Don +Quixote and troubled the heart of Sancho. Now and then an ass brayed, +pigs grunted, cats mewed, and the various noises they made seemed louder +in the silence of the night; all which the enamoured knight took to be of +evil omen; nevertheless he said to Sancho, "Sancho, my son, lead on to +the palace of Dulcinea, it may be that we shall find her awake." + +"Body of the sun! what palace am I to lead to," said Sancho, "when what I +saw her highness in was only a very little house?" + +"Most likely she had then withdrawn into some small apartment of her +palace," said Don Quixote, "to amuse herself with damsels, as great +ladies and princesses are accustomed to do." + +"Senor," said Sancho, "if your worship will have it in spite of me that +the house of my lady Dulcinea is a palace, is this an hour, think you, to +find the door open; and will it be right for us to go knocking till they +hear us and open the door; making a disturbance and confusion all through +the household? Are we going, do you fancy, to the house of our wenches, +like gallants who come and knock and go in at any hour, however late it +may be?" + +"Let us first of all find out the palace for certain," replied Don +Quixote, "and then I will tell thee, Sancho, what we had best do; but +look, Sancho, for either I see badly, or that dark mass that one sees +from here should be Dulcinea's palace." + +"Then let your worship lead the way," said Sancho, "perhaps it may be so; +though I see it with my eyes and touch it with my hands, I'll believe it +as much as I believe it is daylight now." + +Don Quixote took the lead, and having gone a matter of two hundred paces +he came upon the mass that produced the shade, and found it was a great +tower, and then he perceived that the building in question was no palace, +but the chief church of the town, and said he, "It's the church we have +lit upon, Sancho." + +"So I see," said Sancho, "and God grant we may not light upon our graves; +it is no good sign to find oneself wandering in a graveyard at this time +of night; and that, after my telling your worship, if I don't mistake, +that the house of this lady will be in an alley without an outlet." + +"The curse of God on thee for a blockhead!" said Don Quixote; "where hast +thou ever heard of castles and royal palaces being built in alleys +without an outlet?" + +"Senor," replied Sancho, "every country has a way of its own; perhaps +here in El Toboso it is the way to build palaces and grand buildings in +alleys; so I entreat your worship to let me search about among these +streets or alleys before me, and perhaps, in some corner or other, I may +stumble on this palace--and I wish I saw the dogs eating it for leading +us such a dance." + +"Speak respectfully of what belongs to my lady, Sancho," said Don +Quixote; "let us keep the feast in peace, and not throw the rope after +the bucket." + +"I'll hold my tongue," said Sancho, "but how am I to take it patiently +when your worship wants me, with only once seeing the house of our +mistress, to know always, and find it in the middle of the night, when +your worship can't find it, who must have seen it thousands of times?" + +"Thou wilt drive me to desperation, Sancho," said Don Quixote. "Look +here, heretic, have I not told thee a thousand times that I have never +once in my life seen the peerless Dulcinea or crossed the threshold of +her palace, and that I am enamoured solely by hearsay and by the great +reputation she bears for beauty and discretion?" + +"I hear it now," returned Sancho; "and I may tell you that if you have +not seen her, no more have I." + +"That cannot be," said Don Quixote, "for, at any rate, thou saidst, on +bringing back the answer to the letter I sent by thee, that thou sawest +her sifting wheat." + +"Don't mind that, senor," said Sancho; "I must tell you that my seeing +her and the answer I brought you back were by hearsay too, for I can no +more tell who the lady Dulcinea is than I can hit the sky." + +"Sancho, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "there are times for jests and times +when jests are out of place; if I tell thee that I have neither seen nor +spoken to the lady of my heart, it is no reason why thou shouldst say +thou hast not spoken to her or seen her, when the contrary is the case, +as thou well knowest." + +While the two were engaged in this conversation, they perceived some one +with a pair of mules approaching the spot where they stood, and from the +noise the plough made, as it dragged along the ground, they guessed him +to be some labourer who had got up before daybreak to go to his work, and +so it proved to be. He came along singing the ballad that says-- + +Ill did ye fare, ye men of France, In Roncesvalles chase-- + +"May I die, Sancho," said Don Quixote, when he heard him, "if any good +will come to us tonight! Dost thou not hear what that clown is singing?" + +"I do," said Sancho, "but what has Roncesvalles chase to do with what we +have in hand? He might just as well be singing the ballad of Calainos, +for any good or ill that can come to us in our business." + +By this time the labourer had come up, and Don Quixote asked him, "Can +you tell me, worthy friend, and God speed you, whereabouts here is the +palace of the peerless princess Dona Dulcinea del Toboso?" + +"Senor," replied the lad, "I am a stranger, and I have been only a few +days in the town, doing farm work for a rich farmer. In that house +opposite there live the curate of the village and the sacristan, and both +or either of them will be able to give your worship some account of this +lady princess, for they have a list of all the people of El Toboso; +though it is my belief there is not a princess living in the whole of it; +many ladies there are, of quality, and in her own house each of them may +be a princess." + +"Well, then, she I am inquiring for will be one of these, my friend," +said Don Quixote. + +"May be so," replied the lad; "God be with you, for here comes the +daylight;" and without waiting for any more of his questions, he whipped +on his mules. + +Sancho, seeing his master downcast and somewhat dissatisfied, said to +him, "Senor, daylight will be here before long, and it will not do for us +to let the sun find us in the street; it will be better for us to quit +the city, and for your worship to hide in some forest in the +neighbourhood, and I will come back in the daytime, and I won't leave a +nook or corner of the whole village that I won't search for the house, +castle, or palace, of my lady, and it will be hard luck for me if I don't +find it; and as soon as I have found it I will speak to her grace, and +tell her where and how your worship is waiting for her to arrange some +plan for you to see her without any damage to her honour and reputation." + +"Sancho," said Don Quixote, "thou hast delivered a thousand sentences +condensed in the compass of a few words; I thank thee for the advice thou +hast given me, and take it most gladly. Come, my son, let us go look for +some place where I may hide, while thou dost return, as thou sayest, to +seek, and speak with my lady, from whose discretion and courtesy I look +for favours more than miraculous." + +Sancho was in a fever to get his master out of the town, lest he should +discover the falsehood of the reply he had brought to him in the Sierra +Morena on behalf of Dulcinea; so he hastened their departure, which they +took at once, and two miles out of the village they found a forest or +thicket wherein Don Quixote ensconced himself, while Sancho returned to +the city to speak to Dulcinea, in which embassy things befell him which +demand fresh attention and a new chapter. + +Chapter X. - +Wherein is related the crafty device Sancho adopted to enchant the lady +Dulcinea, and other incidents as ludicrous as they are true + +When the author of this great history comes to relate what is set down in +this chapter he says he would have preferred to pass it over in silence, +fearing it would not be believed, because here Don Quixote's madness +reaches the confines of the greatest that can be conceived, and even goes +a couple of bowshots beyond the greatest. But after all, though still +under the same fear and apprehension, he has recorded it without adding +to the story or leaving out a particle of the truth, and entirely +disregarding the charges of falsehood that might be brought against him; +and he was right, for the truth may run fine but will not break, and +always rises above falsehood as oil above water; and so, going on with +his story, he says that as soon as Don Quixote had ensconced himself in +the forest, oak grove, or wood near El Toboso, he bade Sancho return to +the city, and not come into his presence again without having first +spoken on his behalf to his lady, and begged of her that it might be her +good pleasure to permit herself to be seen by her enslaved knight, and +deign to bestow her blessing upon him, so that he might thereby hope for +a happy issue in all his encounters and difficult enterprises. Sancho +undertook to execute the task according to the instructions, and to bring +back an answer as good as the one he brought back before. + +"Go, my son," said Don Quixote, "and be not dazed when thou findest +thyself exposed to the light of that sun of beauty thou art going to +seek. Happy thou, above all the squires in the world! Bear in mind, and +let it not escape thy memory, how she receives thee; if she changes +colour while thou art giving her my message; if she is agitated and +disturbed at hearing my name; if she cannot rest upon her cushion, +shouldst thou haply find her seated in the sumptuous state chamber proper +to her rank; and should she be standing, observe if she poises herself +now on one foot, now on the other; if she repeats two or three times the +reply she gives thee; if she passes from gentleness to austerity, from +asperity to tenderness; if she raises her hand to smooth her hair though +it be not disarranged. In short, my son, observe all her actions and +motions, for if thou wilt report them to me as they were, I will gather +what she hides in the recesses of her heart as regards my love; for I +would have thee know, Sancho, if thou knowest it not, that with lovers +the outward actions and motions they give way to when their loves are in +question are the faithful messengers that carry the news of what is going +on in the depths of their hearts. Go, my friend, may better fortune than +mine attend thee, and bring thee a happier issue than that which I await +in dread in this dreary solitude." + +"I will go and return quickly," said Sancho; "cheer up that little heart +of yours, master mine, for at the present moment you seem to have got one +no bigger than a hazel nut; remember what they say, that a stout heart +breaks bad luck, and that where there are no fletches there are no pegs; +and moreover they say, the hare jumps up where it's not looked for. I say +this because, if we could not find my lady's palaces or castles to-night, +now that it is daylight I count upon finding them when I least expect it, +and once found, leave it to me to manage her." + +"Verily, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "thou dost always bring in thy +proverbs happily, whatever we deal with; may God give me better luck in +what I am anxious about." + +With this, Sancho wheeled about and gave Dapple the stick, and Don +Quixote remained behind, seated on his horse, resting in his stirrups and +leaning on the end of his lance, filled with sad and troubled +forebodings; and there we will leave him, and accompany Sancho, who went +off no less serious and troubled than he left his master; so much so, +that as soon as he had got out of the thicket, and looking round saw that +Don Quixote was not within sight, he dismounted from his ass, and seating +himself at the foot of a tree began to commune with himself, saying, +"Now, brother Sancho, let us know where your worship is going. Are you +going to look for some ass that has been lost? Not at all. Then what are +you going to look for? I am going to look for a princess, that's all; and +in her for the sun of beauty and the whole heaven at once. And where do +you expect to find all this, Sancho? Where? Why, in the great city of El +Toboso. Well, and for whom are you going to look for her? For the famous +knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, who rights wrongs, gives food to those +who thirst and drink to the hungry. That's all very well, but do you know +her house, Sancho? My master says it will be some royal palace or grand +castle. And have you ever seen her by any chance? Neither I nor my master +ever saw her. And does it strike you that it would be just and right if +the El Toboso people, finding out that you were here with the intention +of going to tamper with their princesses and trouble their ladies, were +to come and cudgel your ribs, and not leave a whole bone in you? They +would, indeed, have very good reason, if they did not see that I am under +orders, and that 'you are a messenger, my friend, no blame belongs to +you.' Don't you trust to that, Sancho, for the Manchegan folk are as +hot-tempered as they are honest, and won't put up with liberties from +anybody. By the Lord, if they get scent of you, it will be worse for you, +I promise you. Be off, you scoundrel! Let the bolt fall. Why should I go +looking for three feet on a cat, to please another man; and what is more, +when looking for Dulcinea will be looking for Marica in Ravena, or the +bachelor in Salamanca? The devil, the devil and nobody else, has mixed me +up in this business!" + +Such was the soliloquy Sancho held with himself, and all the conclusion +he could come to was to say to himself again, "Well, there's remedy for +everything except death, under whose yoke we have all to pass, whether we +like it or not, when life's finished. I have seen by a thousand signs +that this master of mine is a madman fit to be tied, and for that matter, +I too, am not behind him; for I'm a greater fool than he is when I follow +him and serve him, if there's any truth in the proverb that says, 'Tell +me what company thou keepest, and I'll tell thee what thou art,' or in +that other, 'Not with whom thou art bred, but with whom thou art fed.' +Well then, if he be mad, as he is, and with a madness that mostly takes +one thing for another, and white for black, and black for white, as was +seen when he said the windmills were giants, and the monks' mules +dromedaries, flocks of sheep armies of enemies, and much more to the same +tune, it will not be very hard to make him believe that some country +girl, the first I come across here, is the lady Dulcinea; and if he does +not believe it, I'll swear it; and if he should swear, I'll swear again; +and if he persists I'll persist still more, so as, come what may, to have +my quoit always over the peg. Maybe, by holding out in this way, I may +put a stop to his sending me on messages of this kind another time; or +maybe he will think, as I suspect he will, that one of those wicked +enchanters, who he says have a spite against him, has changed her form +for the sake of doing him an ill turn and injuring him." + +With this reflection Sancho made his mind easy, counting the business as +good as settled, and stayed there till the afternoon so as to make Don +Quixote think he had time enough to go to El Toboso and return; and +things turned out so luckily for him that as he got up to mount Dapple, +he spied, coming from El Toboso towards the spot where he stood, three +peasant girls on three colts, or fillies--for the author does not make +the point clear, though it is more likely they were she-asses, the usual +mount with village girls; but as it is of no great consequence, we need +not stop to prove it. + +To be brief, the instant Sancho saw the peasant girls, he returned full +speed to seek his master, and found him sighing and uttering a thousand +passionate lamentations. When Don Quixote saw him he exclaimed, "What +news, Sancho, my friend? Am I to mark this day with a white stone or a +black?" + +"Your worship," replied Sancho, "had better mark it with ruddle, like the +inscriptions on the walls of class rooms, that those who see it may see +it plain." + +"Then thou bringest good news," said Don Quixote. + +"So good," replied Sancho, "that your worship has only to spur Rocinante +and get out into the open field to see the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, who, +with two others, damsels of hers, is coming to see your worship." + +"Holy God! what art thou saying, Sancho, my friend?" exclaimed Don +Quixote. "Take care thou art not deceiving me, or seeking by false joy to +cheer my real sadness." + +"What could I get by deceiving your worship," returned Sancho, +"especially when it will so soon be shown whether I tell the truth or +not? Come, senor, push on, and you will see the princess our mistress +coming, robed and adorned--in fact, like what she is. Her damsels and she +are all one glow of gold, all bunches of pearls, all diamonds, all +rubies, all cloth of brocade of more than ten borders; with their hair +loose on their shoulders like so many sunbeams playing with the wind; and +moreover, they come mounted on three piebald cackneys, the finest sight +ever you saw." + +"Hackneys, you mean, Sancho," said Don Quixote. + +"There is not much difference between cackneys and hackneys," said +Sancho; "but no matter what they come on, there they are, the finest +ladies one could wish for, especially my lady the princess Dulcinea, who +staggers one's senses." + +"Let us go, Sancho, my son," said Don Quixote, "and in guerdon of this +news, as unexpected as it is good, I bestow upon thee the best spoil I +shall win in the first adventure I may have; or if that does not satisfy +thee, I promise thee the foals I shall have this year from my three mares +that thou knowest are in foal on our village common." + +"I'll take the foals," said Sancho; "for it is not quite certain that the +spoils of the first adventure will be good ones." + +By this time they had cleared the wood, and saw the three village lasses +close at hand. Don Quixote looked all along the road to El Toboso, and as +he could see nobody except the three peasant girls, he was completely +puzzled, and asked Sancho if it was outside the city he had left them. + +"How outside the city?" returned Sancho. "Are your worship's eyes in the +back of your head, that you can't see that they are these who are coming +here, shining like the very sun at noonday?" + +"I see nothing, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "but three country girls on +three jackasses." + +"Now, may God deliver me from the devil!" said Sancho, "and can it be +that your worship takes three hackneys--or whatever they're called-as +white as the driven snow, for jackasses? By the Lord, I could tear my +beard if that was the case!" + +"Well, I can only say, Sancho, my friend," said Don Quixote, "that it is +as plain they are jackasses--or jennyasses--as that I am Don Quixote, and +thou Sancho Panza: at any rate, they seem to me to be so." + +"Hush, senor," said Sancho, "don't talk that way, but open your eyes, and +come and pay your respects to the lady of your thoughts, who is close +upon us now;" and with these words he advanced to receive the three +village lasses, and dismounting from Dapple, caught hold of one of the +asses of the three country girls by the halter, and dropping on both +knees on the ground, he said, "Queen and princess and duchess of beauty, +may it please your haughtiness and greatness to receive into your favour +and good-will your captive knight who stands there turned into marble +stone, and quite stupefied and benumbed at finding himself in your +magnificent presence. I am Sancho Panza, his squire, and he the vagabond +knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, otherwise called 'The Knight of the +Rueful Countenance.'" + +Don Quixote had by this time placed himself on his knees beside Sancho, +and, with eyes starting out of his head and a puzzled gaze, was regarding +her whom Sancho called queen and lady; and as he could see nothing in her +except a village lass, and not a very well-favoured one, for she was +platter-faced and snub-nosed, he was perplexed and bewildered, and did +not venture to open his lips. The country girls, at the same time, were +astonished to see these two men, so different in appearance, on their +knees, preventing their companion from going on. She, however, who had +been stopped, breaking silence, said angrily and testily, "Get out of the +way, bad luck to you, and let us pass, for we are in a hurry." + +To which Sancho returned, "Oh, princess and universal lady of El Toboso, +is not your magnanimous heart softened by seeing the pillar and prop of +knight-errantry on his knees before your sublimated presence?" + +On hearing this, one of the others exclaimed, "Woa then! why, I'm rubbing +thee down, she-ass of my father-in-law! See how the lordlings come to +make game of the village girls now, as if we here could not chaff as well +as themselves. Go your own way, and let us go ours, and it will be better +for you." + +"Get up, Sancho," said Don Quixote at this; "I see that fortune, 'with +evil done to me unsated still,' has taken possession of all the roads by +which any comfort may reach 'this wretched soul' that I carry in my +flesh. And thou, highest perfection of excellence that can be desired, +utmost limit of grace in human shape, sole relief of this afflicted heart +that adores thee, though the malign enchanter that persecutes me has +brought clouds and cataracts on my eyes, and to them, and them only, +transformed thy unparagoned beauty and changed thy features into those of +a poor peasant girl, if so be he has not at the same time changed mine +into those of some monster to render them loathsome in thy sight, refuse +not to look upon me with tenderness and love; seeing in this submission +that I make on my knees to thy transformed beauty the humility with which +my soul adores thee." + +"Hey-day! My grandfather!" cried the girl, "much I care for your +love-making! Get out of the way and let us pass, and we'll thank you." + +Sancho stood aside and let her go, very well pleased to have got so well +out of the hobble he was in. The instant the village lass who had done +duty for Dulcinea found herself free, prodding her "cackney" with a spike +she had at the end of a stick, she set off at full speed across the +field. The she-ass, however, feeling the point more acutely than usual, +began cutting such capers, that it flung the lady Dulcinea to the ground; +seeing which, Don Quixote ran to raise her up, and Sancho to fix and +girth the pack-saddle, which also had slipped under the ass's belly. The +pack-saddle being secured, as Don Quixote was about to lift up his +enchanted mistress in his arms and put her upon her beast, the lady, +getting up from the ground, saved him the trouble, for, going back a +little, she took a short run, and putting both hands on the croup of the +ass she dropped into the saddle more lightly than a falcon, and sat +astride like a man, whereat Sancho said, "Rogue! but our lady is lighter +than a lanner, and might teach the cleverest Cordovan or Mexican how to +mount; she cleared the back of the saddle in one jump, and without spurs +she is making the hackney go like a zebra; and her damsels are no way +behind her, for they all fly like the wind;" which was the truth, for as +soon as they saw Dulcinea mounted, they pushed on after her, and sped +away without looking back, for more than half a league. + +Don Quixote followed them with his eyes, and when they were no longer in +sight, he turned to Sancho and said, "How now, Sancho? thou seest how I +am hated by enchanters! And see to what a length the malice and spite +they bear me go, when they seek to deprive me of the happiness it would +give me to see my lady in her own proper form. The fact is I was born to +be an example of misfortune, and the target and mark at which the arrows +of adversity are aimed and directed. Observe too, Sancho, that these +traitors were not content with changing and transforming my Dulcinea, but +they transformed and changed her into a shape as mean and ill-favoured as +that of the village girl yonder; and at the same time they robbed her of +that which is such a peculiar property of ladies of distinction, that is +to say, the sweet fragrance that comes of being always among perfumes and +flowers. For I must tell thee, Sancho, that when I approached to put +Dulcinea upon her hackney (as thou sayest it was, though to me it +appeared a she-ass), she gave me a whiff of raw garlic that made my head +reel, and poisoned my very heart." + +"O scum of the earth!" cried Sancho at this, "O miserable, spiteful +enchanters! O that I could see you all strung by the gills, like sardines +on a twig! Ye know a great deal, ye can do a great deal, and ye do a +great deal more. It ought to have been enough for you, ye scoundrels, to +have changed the pearls of my lady's eyes into oak galls, and her hair of +purest gold into the bristles of a red ox's tail, and in short, all her +features from fair to foul, without meddling with her smell; for by that +we might somehow have found out what was hidden underneath that ugly +rind; though, to tell the truth, I never perceived her ugliness, but only +her beauty, which was raised to the highest pitch of perfection by a mole +she had on her right lip, like a moustache, with seven or eight red hairs +like threads of gold, and more than a palm long." + +"From the correspondence which exists between those of the face and those +of the body," said Don Quixote, "Dulcinea must have another mole +resembling that on the thick of the thigh on that side on which she has +the one on her ace; but hairs of the length thou hast mentioned are very +long for moles." + +"Well, all I can say is there they were as plain as could be," replied +Sancho. + +"I believe it, my friend," returned Don Quixote; "for nature bestowed +nothing on Dulcinea that was not perfect and well-finished; and so, if +she had a hundred moles like the one thou hast described, in her they +would not be moles, but moons and shining stars. But tell me, Sancho, +that which seemed to me to be a pack-saddle as thou wert fixing it, was +it a flat-saddle or a side-saddle?" + +"It was neither," replied Sancho, "but a jineta saddle, with a field +covering worth half a kingdom, so rich is it." + +"And that I could not see all this, Sancho!" said Don Quixote; "once more +I say, and will say a thousand times, I am the most unfortunate of men." + +Sancho, the rogue, had enough to do to hide his laughter, at hearing the +simplicity of the master he had so nicely befooled. At length, after a +good deal more conversation had passed between them, they remounted their +beasts, and followed the road to Saragossa, which they expected to reach +in time to take part in a certain grand festival which is held every year +in that illustrious city; but before they got there things happened to +them, so many, so important, and so strange, that they deserve to be +recorded and read, as will be seen farther on. + +Chapter XI. - +Of the strange adventure which the valiant Don Quixote had with the car +or cart of "the cortes of death" + +Dejected beyond measure did Don Quixote pursue his journey, turning over +in his mind the cruel trick the enchanters had played him in changing his +lady Dulcinea into the vile shape of the village lass, nor could he think +of any way of restoring her to her original form; and these reflections +so absorbed him, that without being aware of it he let go Rocinante's +bridle, and he, perceiving the liberty that was granted him, stopped at +every step to crop the fresh grass with which the plain abounded. + +Sancho recalled him from his reverie. "Melancholy, senor," said he, "was +made, not for beasts, but for men; but if men give way to it overmuch +they turn to beasts; control yourself, your worship; be yourself again; +gather up Rocinante's reins; cheer up, rouse yourself and show that +gallant spirit that knights-errant ought to have. What the devil is this? +What weakness is this? Are we here or in France? The devil fly away with +all the Dulcineas in the world; for the well-being of a single +knight-errant is of more consequence than all the enchantments and +transformations on earth." + +"Hush, Sancho," said Don Quixote in a weak and faint voice, "hush and +utter no blasphemies against that enchanted lady; for I alone am to blame +for her misfortune and hard fate; her calamity has come of the hatred the +wicked bear me." + +"So say I," returned Sancho; "his heart rend in twain, I trow, who saw +her once, to see her now." + +"Thou mayest well say that, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "as thou sawest +her in the full perfection of her beauty; for the enchantment does not go +so far as to pervert thy vision or hide her loveliness from thee; against +me alone and against my eyes is the strength of its venom directed. +Nevertheless, there is one thing which has occurred to me, and that is +that thou didst ill describe her beauty to me, for, as well as I +recollect, thou saidst that her eyes were pearls; but eyes that are like +pearls are rather the eyes of a sea-bream than of a lady, and I am +persuaded that Dulcinea's must be green emeralds, full and soft, with two +rainbows for eyebrows; take away those pearls from her eyes and transfer +them to her teeth; for beyond a doubt, Sancho, thou hast taken the one +for the other, the eyes for the teeth." + +"Very likely," said Sancho; "for her beauty bewildered me as much as her +ugliness did your worship; but let us leave it all to God, who alone +knows what is to happen in this vale of tears, in this evil world of +ours, where there is hardly a thing to be found without some mixture of +wickedness, roguery, and rascality. But one thing, senor, troubles me +more than all the rest, and that is thinking what is to be done when your +worship conquers some giant, or some other knight, and orders him to go +and present himself before the beauty of the lady Dulcinea. Where is this +poor giant, or this poor wretch of a vanquished knight, to find her? I +think I can see them wandering all over El Toboso, looking like noddies, +and asking for my lady Dulcinea; and even if they meet her in the middle +of the street they won't know her any more than they would my father." + +"Perhaps, Sancho," returned Don Quixote, "the enchantment does not go so +far as to deprive conquered and presented giants and knights of the power +of recognising Dulcinea; we will try by experiment with one or two of the +first I vanquish and send to her, whether they see her or not, by +commanding them to return and give me an account of what happened to them +in this respect." + +"I declare, I think what your worship has proposed is excellent," said +Sancho; "and that by this plan we shall find out what we want to know; +and if it be that it is only from your worship she is hidden, the +misfortune will be more yours than hers; but so long as the lady Dulcinea +is well and happy, we on our part will make the best of it, and get on as +well as we can, seeking our adventures, and leaving Time to take his own +course; for he is the best physician for these and greater ailments." + +Don Quixote was about to reply to Sancho Panza, but he was prevented by a +cart crossing the road full of the most diverse and strange personages +and figures that could be imagined. He who led the mules and acted as +carter was a hideous demon; the cart was open to the sky, without a tilt +or cane roof, and the first figure that presented itself to Don Quixote's +eyes was that of Death itself with a human face; next to it was an angel +with large painted wings, and at one side an emperor, with a crown, to +all appearance of gold, on his head. At the feet of Death was the god +called Cupid, without his bandage, but with his bow, quiver, and arrows; +there was also a knight in full armour, except that he had no morion or +helmet, but only a hat decked with plumes of divers colours; and along +with these there were others with a variety of costumes and faces. All +this, unexpectedly encountered, took Don Quixote somewhat aback, and +struck terror into the heart of Sancho; but the next instant Don Quixote +was glad of it, believing that some new perilous adventure was presenting +itself to him, and under this impression, and with a spirit prepared to +face any danger, he planted himself in front of the cart, and in a loud +and menacing tone, exclaimed, "Carter, or coachman, or devil, or whatever +thou art, tell me at once who thou art, whither thou art going, and who +these folk are thou carriest in thy wagon, which looks more like Charon's +boat than an ordinary cart." + +To which the devil, stopping the cart, answered quietly, "Senor, we are +players of Angulo el Malo's company; we have been acting the play of 'The +Cortes of Death' this morning, which is the octave of Corpus Christi, in +a village behind that hill, and we have to act it this afternoon in that +village which you can see from this; and as it is so near, and to save +the trouble of undressing and dressing again, we go in the costumes in +which we perform. That lad there appears as Death, that other as an +angel, that woman, the manager's wife, plays the queen, this one the +soldier, that the emperor, and I the devil; and I am one of the principal +characters of the play, for in this company I take the leading parts. If +you want to know anything more about us, ask me and I will answer with +the utmost exactitude, for as I am a devil I am up to everything." + +"By the faith of a knight-errant," replied Don Quixote, "when I saw this +cart I fancied some great adventure was presenting itself to me; but I +declare one must touch with the hand what appears to the eye, if +illusions are to be avoided. God speed you, good people; keep your +festival, and remember, if you demand of me ought wherein I can render +you a service, I will do it gladly and willingly, for from a child I was +fond of the play, and in my youth a keen lover of the actor's art." + +While they were talking, fate so willed it that one of the company in a +mummers' dress with a great number of bells, and armed with three blown +ox-bladders at the end of a stick, joined them, and this merry-andrew +approaching Don Quixote, began flourishing his stick and banging the +ground with the bladders and cutting capers with great jingling of the +bells, which untoward apparition so startled Rocinante that, in spite of +Don Quixote's efforts to hold him in, taking the bit between his teeth he +set off across the plain with greater speed than the bones of his anatomy +ever gave any promise of. + +Sancho, who thought his master was in danger of being thrown, jumped off +Dapple, and ran in all haste to help him; but by the time he reached him +he was already on the ground, and beside him was Rocinante, who had come +down with his master, the usual end and upshot of Rocinante's vivacity +and high spirits. But the moment Sancho quitted his beast to go and help +Don Quixote, the dancing devil with the bladders jumped up on Dapple, and +beating him with them, more by the fright and the noise than by the pain +of the blows, made him fly across the fields towards the village where +they were going to hold their festival. Sancho witnessed Dapple's career +and his master's fall, and did not know which of the two cases of need he +should attend to first; but in the end, like a good squire and good +servant, he let his love for his master prevail over his affection for +his ass; though every time he saw the bladders rise in the air and come +down on the hind quarters of his Dapple he felt the pains and terrors of +death, and he would have rather had the blows fall on the apples of his +own eyes than on the least hair of his ass's tail. In this trouble and +perplexity he came to where Don Quixote lay in a far sorrier plight than +he liked, and having helped him to mount Rocinante, he said to him, +"Senor, the devil has carried off my Dapple." + +"What devil?" asked Don Quixote. + +"The one with the bladders," said Sancho. + +"Then I will recover him," said Don Quixote, "even if he be shut up with +him in the deepest and darkest dungeons of hell. Follow me, Sancho, for +the cart goes slowly, and with the mules of it I will make good the loss +of Dapple." + +"You need not take the trouble, senor," said Sancho; "keep cool, for as I +now see, the devil has let Dapple go and he is coming back to his old +quarters;" and so it turned out, for, having come down with Dapple, in +imitation of Don Quixote and Rocinante, the devil made off on foot to the +town, and the ass came back to his master. + +"For all that," said Don Quixote, "it will be well to visit the +discourtesy of that devil upon some of those in the cart, even if it were +the emperor himself." + +"Don't think of it, your worship," returned Sancho; "take my advice and +never meddle with actors, for they are a favoured class; I myself have +known an actor taken up for two murders, and yet come off scot-free; +remember that, as they are merry folk who give pleasure, everyone favours +and protects them, and helps and makes much of them, above all when they +are those of the royal companies and under patent, all or most of whom in +dress and appearance look like princes." + +"Still, for all that," said Don Quixote, "the player devil must not go +off boasting, even if the whole human race favours him." + +So saying, he made for the cart, which was now very near the town, +shouting out as he went, "Stay! halt! ye merry, jovial crew! I want to +teach you how to treat asses and animals that serve the squires of +knights-errant for steeds." + +So loud were the shouts of Don Quixote, that those in the cart heard and +understood them, and, guessing by the words what the speaker's intention +was, Death in an instant jumped out of the cart, and the emperor, the +devil carter and the angel after him, nor did the queen or the god Cupid +stay behind; and all armed themselves with stones and formed in line, +prepared to receive Don Quixote on the points of their pebbles. Don +Quixote, when he saw them drawn up in such a gallant array with uplifted +arms ready for a mighty discharge of stones, checked Rocinante and began +to consider in what way he could attack them with the least danger to +himself. As he halted Sancho came up, and seeing him disposed to attack +this well-ordered squadron, said to him, "It would be the height of +madness to attempt such an enterprise; remember, senor, that against sops +from the brook, and plenty of them, there is no defensive armour in the +world, except to stow oneself away under a brass bell; and besides, one +should remember that it is rashness, and not valour, for a single man to +attack an army that has Death in it, and where emperors fight in person, +with angels, good and bad, to help them; and if this reflection will not +make you keep quiet, perhaps it will to know for certain that among all +these, though they look like kings, princes, and emperors, there is not a +single knight-errant." + +"Now indeed thou hast hit the point, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "which +may and should turn me from the resolution I had already formed. I cannot +and must not draw sword, as I have many a time before told thee, against +anyone who is not a dubbed knight; it is for thee, Sancho, if thou wilt, +to take vengeance for the wrong done to thy Dapple; and I will help thee +from here by shouts and salutary counsels." + +"There is no occasion to take vengeance on anyone, senor," replied +Sancho; "for it is not the part of good Christians to revenge wrongs; and +besides, I will arrange it with my ass to leave his grievance to my +good-will and pleasure, and that is to live in peace as long as heaven +grants me life." + +"Well," said Don Quixote, "if that be thy determination, good Sancho, +sensible Sancho, Christian Sancho, honest Sancho, let us leave these +phantoms alone and turn to the pursuit of better and worthier adventures; +for, from what I see of this country, we cannot fail to find plenty of +marvellous ones in it." + +He at once wheeled about, Sancho ran to take possession of his Dapple, +Death and his flying squadron returned to their cart and pursued their +journey, and thus the dread adventure of the cart of Death ended happily, +thanks to the advice Sancho gave his master; who had, the following day, +a fresh adventure, of no less thrilling interest than the last, with an +enamoured knight-errant. + +Chapter XII. - +Of the strange adventure which befell the valiant Don Quixote with the +bold Knight of the mirrors + +The night succeeding the day of the encounter with Death, Don Quixote and +his squire passed under some tall shady trees, and Don Quixote at +Sancho's persuasion ate a little from the store carried by Dapple, and +over their supper Sancho said to his master, "Senor, what a fool I should +have looked if I had chosen for my reward the spoils of the first +adventure your worship achieved, instead of the foals of the three mares. +After all, 'a sparrow in the hand is better than a vulture on the wing.'" + +"At the same time, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "if thou hadst let me +attack them as I wanted, at the very least the emperor's gold crown and +Cupid's painted wings would have fallen to thee as spoils, for I should +have taken them by force and given them into thy hands." + +"The sceptres and crowns of those play-actor emperors," said Sancho, +"were never yet pure gold, but only brass foil or tin." + +"That is true," said Don Quixote, "for it would not be right that the +accessories of the drama should be real, instead of being mere fictions +and semblances, like the drama itself; towards which, Sancho-and, as a +necessary consequence, towards those who represent and produce it--I +would that thou wert favourably disposed, for they are all instruments of +great good to the State, placing before us at every step a mirror in +which we may see vividly displayed what goes on in human life; nor is +there any similitude that shows us more faithfully what we are and ought +to be than the play and the players. Come, tell me, hast thou not seen a +play acted in which kings, emperors, pontiffs, knights, ladies, and +divers other personages were introduced? One plays the villain, another +the knave, this one the merchant, that the soldier, one the sharp-witted +fool, another the foolish lover; and when the play is over, and they have +put off the dresses they wore in it, all the actors become equal." + +"Yes, I have seen that," said Sancho. + +"Well then," said Don Quixote, "the same thing happens in the comedy and +life of this world, where some play emperors, others popes, and, in +short, all the characters that can be brought into a play; but when it is +over, that is to say when life ends, death strips them all of the +garments that distinguish one from the other, and all are equal in the +grave." + +"A fine comparison!" said Sancho; "though not so new but that I have +heard it many and many a time, as well as that other one of the game of +chess; how, so long as the game lasts, each piece has its own particular +office, and when the game is finished they are all mixed, jumbled up and +shaken together, and stowed away in the bag, which is much like ending +life in the grave." + +"Thou art growing less doltish and more shrewd every day, Sancho," said +Don Quixote. + +"Ay," said Sancho; "it must be that some of your worship's shrewdness +sticks to me; land that, of itself, is barren and dry, will come to yield +good fruit if you dung it and till it; what I mean is that your worship's +conversation has been the dung that has fallen on the barren soil of my +dry wit, and the time I have been in your service and society has been +the tillage; and with the help of this I hope to yield fruit in abundance +that will not fall away or slide from those paths of good breeding that +your worship has made in my parched understanding." + +Don Quixote laughed at Sancho's affected phraseology, and perceived that +what he said about his improvement was true, for now and then he spoke in +a way that surprised him; though always, or mostly, when Sancho tried to +talk fine and attempted polite language, he wound up by toppling over +from the summit of his simplicity into the abyss of his ignorance; and +where he showed his culture and his memory to the greatest advantage was +in dragging in proverbs, no matter whether they had any bearing or not +upon the subject in hand, as may have been seen already and will be +noticed in the course of this history. + +In conversation of this kind they passed a good part of the night, but +Sancho felt a desire to let down the curtains of his eyes, as he used to +say when he wanted to go to sleep; and stripping Dapple he left him at +liberty to graze his fill. He did not remove Rocinante's saddle, as his +master's express orders were, that so long as they were in the field or +not sleeping under a roof Rocinante was not to be stripped--the ancient +usage established and observed by knights-errant being to take off the +bridle and hang it on the saddle-bow, but to remove the saddle from the +horse--never! Sancho acted accordingly, and gave him the same liberty he +had given Dapple, between whom and Rocinante there was a friendship so +unequalled and so strong, that it is handed down by tradition from father +to son, that the author of this veracious history devoted some special +chapters to it, which, in order to preserve the propriety and decorum due +to a history so heroic, he did not insert therein; although at times he +forgets this resolution of his and describes how eagerly the two beasts +would scratch one another when they were together and how, when they were +tired or full, Rocinante would lay his neck across Dapple's, stretching +half a yard or more on the other side, and the pair would stand thus, +gazing thoughtfully on the ground, for three days, or at least so long as +they were left alone, or hunger did not drive them to go and look for +food. I may add that they say the author left it on record that he +likened their friendship to that of Nisus and Euryalus, and Pylades and +Orestes; and if that be so, it may be perceived, to the admiration of +mankind, how firm the friendship must have been between these two +peaceful animals, shaming men, who preserve friendships with one another +so badly. This was why it was said-- + +For friend no longer is there friend; +The reeds turn lances now. + +And some one else has sung-- + +Friend to friend the bug, etc. + +And let no one fancy that the author was at all astray when he compared +the friendship of these animals to that of men; for men have received +many lessons from beasts, and learned many important things, as, for +example, the clyster from the stork, vomit and gratitude from the dog, +watchfulness from the crane, foresight from the ant, modesty from the +elephant, and loyalty from the horse. + +Sancho at last fell asleep at the foot of a cork tree, while Don Quixote +dozed at that of a sturdy oak; but a short time only had elapsed when a +noise he heard behind him awoke him, and rising up startled, he listened +and looked in the direction the noise came from, and perceived two men on +horseback, one of whom, letting himself drop from the saddle, said to the +other, "Dismount, my friend, and take the bridles off the horses, for, so +far as I can see, this place will furnish grass for them, and the +solitude and silence my love-sick thoughts need of." As he said this he +stretched himself upon the ground, and as he flung himself down, the +armour in which he was clad rattled, whereby Don Quixote perceived that +he must be a knight-errant; and going over to Sancho, who was asleep, he +shook him by the arm and with no small difficulty brought him back to his +senses, and said in a low voice to him, "Brother Sancho, we have got an +adventure." + +"God send us a good one," said Sancho; "and where may her ladyship the +adventure be?" + +"Where, Sancho?" replied Don Quixote; "turn thine eyes and look, and thou +wilt see stretched there a knight-errant, who, it strikes me, is not over +and above happy, for I saw him fling himself off his horse and throw +himself on the ground with a certain air of dejection, and his armour +rattled as he fell." + +"Well," said Sancho, "how does your worship make out that to be an +adventure?" + +"I do not mean to say," returned Don Quixote, "that it is a complete +adventure, but that it is the beginning of one, for it is in this way +adventures begin. But listen, for it seems he is tuning a lute or guitar, +and from the way he is spitting and clearing his chest he must be getting +ready to sing something." + +"Faith, you are right," said Sancho, "and no doubt he is some enamoured +knight." + +"There is no knight-errant that is not," said Don Quixote; "but let us +listen to him, for, if he sings, by that thread we shall extract the ball +of his thoughts; because out of the abundance of the heart the mouth +speaketh." + +Sancho was about to reply to his master, but the Knight of the Grove's +voice, which was neither very bad nor very good, stopped him, and +listening attentively the pair heard him sing this + +poem{ + +SONNET + +Your pleasure, prithee, lady mine, unfold; + Declare the terms that I am to obey; +My will to yours submissively I mould, + And from your law my feet shall never stray. + Would you I die, to silent grief a prey? +Then count me even now as dead and cold; + Would you I tell my woes in some new way? +Then shall my tale by Love itself be told. +The unison of opposites to prove, + Of the soft wax and diamond hard am I; +But still, obedient to the laws of love, + Here, hard or soft, I offer you my breast, + Whate'er you grave or stamp thereon shall rest + Indelible for all eternity. + +}poem + +With an "Ah me!" that seemed to be drawn from the inmost recesses of his +heart, the Knight of the Grove brought his lay to an end, and shortly +afterwards exclaimed in a melancholy and piteous voice, "O fairest and +most ungrateful woman on earth! What! can it be, most serene Casildea de +Vandalia, that thou wilt suffer this thy captive knight to waste away and +perish in ceaseless wanderings and rude and arduous toils? It is not +enough that I have compelled all the knights of Navarre, all the Leonese, +all the Tartesians, all the Castilians, and finally all the knights of La +Mancha, to confess thee the most beautiful in the world?" + +"Not so," said Don Quixote at this, "for I am of La Mancha, and I have +never confessed anything of the sort, nor could I nor should I confess a +thing so much to the prejudice of my lady's beauty; thou seest how this +knight is raving, Sancho. But let us listen, perhaps he will tell us more +about himself." + +"That he will," returned Sancho, "for he seems in a mood to bewail +himself for a month at a stretch." + +But this was not the case, for the Knight of the Grove, hearing voices +near him, instead of continuing his lamentation, stood up and exclaimed +in a distinct but courteous tone, "Who goes there? What are you? Do you +belong to the number of the happy or of the miserable?" + +"Of the miserable," answered Don Quixote. + +"Then come to me," said he of the Grove, "and rest assured that it is to +woe itself and affliction itself you come." + +Don Quixote, finding himself answered in such a soft and courteous +manner, went over to him, and so did Sancho. + +The doleful knight took Don Quixote by the arm, saying, "Sit down here, +sir knight; for, that you are one, and of those that profess +knight-errantry, it is to me a sufficient proof to have found you in this +place, where solitude and night, the natural couch and proper retreat of +knights-errant, keep you company." To which Don made answer, "A knight I +am of the profession you mention, and though sorrows, misfortunes, and +calamities have made my heart their abode, the compassion I feel for the +misfortunes of others has not been thereby banished from it. From what +you have just now sung I gather that yours spring from love, I mean from +the love you bear that fair ingrate you named in your lament." + +In the meantime, they had seated themselves together on the hard ground +peaceably and sociably, just as if, as soon as day broke, they were not +going to break one another's heads. + +"Are you, sir knight, in love perchance?" asked he of the Grove of Don +Quixote. + +"By mischance I am," replied Don Quixote; "though the ills arising from +well-bestowed affections should be esteemed favours rather than +misfortunes." + +"That is true," returned he of the Grove, "if scorn did not unsettle our +reason and understanding, for if it be excessive it looks like revenge." + +"I was never scorned by my lady," said Don Quixote. + +"Certainly not," said Sancho, who stood close by, "for my lady is as a +lamb, and softer than a roll of butter." + +"Is this your squire?" asked he of the Grove. + +"He is," said Don Quixote. + +"I never yet saw a squire," said he of the Grove, "who ventured to speak +when his master was speaking; at least, there is mine, who is as big as +his father, and it cannot be proved that he has ever opened his lips when +I am speaking." + +"By my faith then," said Sancho, "I have spoken, and am fit to speak, in +the presence of one as much, or even--but never mind--it only makes it +worse to stir it." + +The squire of the Grove took Sancho by the arm, saying to him, "Let us +two go where we can talk in squire style as much as we please, and leave +these gentlemen our masters to fight it out over the story of their +loves; and, depend upon it, daybreak will find them at it without having +made an end of it." + +"So be it by all means," said Sancho; "and I will tell your worship who I +am, that you may see whether I am to be reckoned among the number of the +most talkative squires." + +With this the two squires withdrew to one side, and between them there +passed a conversation as droll as that which passed between their masters +was serious. + +Chapter XIII. - +In which is continued the adventure of the Knight of the Grove, together +with the sensible, original, and tranquil colloquy that passed between +the two Squires + +The knights and the squires made two parties, these telling the story of +their lives, the others the story of their loves; but the history relates +first of all the conversation of the servants, and afterwards takes up +that of the masters; and it says that, withdrawing a little from the +others, he of the Grove said to Sancho, "A hard life it is we lead and +live, senor, we that are squires to knights-errant; verily, we eat our +bread in the sweat of our faces, which is one of the curses God laid on +our first parents." + +"It may be said, too," added Sancho, "that we eat it in the chill of our +bodies; for who gets more heat and cold than the miserable squires of +knight-errantry? Even so it would not be so bad if we had something to +eat, for woes are lighter if there's bread; but sometimes we go a day or +two without breaking our fast, except with the wind that blows." + +"All that," said he of the Grove, "may be endured and put up with when we +have hopes of reward; for, unless the knight-errant he serves is +excessively unlucky, after a few turns the squire will at least find +himself rewarded with a fine government of some island or some fair +county." + +"I," said Sancho, "have already told my master that I shall be content +with the government of some island, and he is so noble and generous that +he has promised it to me ever so many times." + +"I," said he of the Grove, "shall be satisfied with a canonry for my +services, and my master has already assigned me one." + +"Your master," said Sancho, "no doubt is a knight in the Church line, and +can bestow rewards of that sort on his good squire; but mine is only a +layman; though I remember some clever, but, to my mind, designing people, +strove to persuade him to try and become an archbishop. He, however, +would not be anything but an emperor; but I was trembling all the time +lest he should take a fancy to go into the Church, not finding myself fit +to hold office in it; for I may tell you, though I seem a man, I am no +better than a beast for the Church." + +"Well, then, you are wrong there," said he of the Grove; "for those +island governments are not all satisfactory; some are awkward, some are +poor, some are dull, and, in short, the highest and choicest brings with +it a heavy burden of cares and troubles which the unhappy wight to whose +lot it has fallen bears upon his shoulders. Far better would it be for us +who have adopted this accursed service to go back to our own houses, and +there employ ourselves in pleasanter occupations--in hunting or fishing, +for instance; for what squire in the world is there so poor as not to +have a hack and a couple of greyhounds and a fishingrod to amuse himself +with in his own village?" + +"I am not in want of any of those things," said Sancho; "to be sure I +have no hack, but I have an ass that is worth my master's horse twice +over; God send me a bad Easter, and that the next one I am to see, if I +would swap, even if I got four bushels of barley to boot. You will laugh +at the value I put on my Dapple--for dapple is the colour of my beast. As +to greyhounds, I can't want for them, for there are enough and to spare +in my town; and, moreover, there is more pleasure in sport when it is at +other people's expense." + +"In truth and earnest, sir squire," said he of the Grove, "I have made up +my mind and determined to have done with these drunken vagaries of these +knights, and go back to my village, and bring up my children; for I have +three, like three Oriental pearls." + +"I have two," said Sancho, "that might be presented before the Pope +himself, especially a girl whom I am breeding up for a countess, please +God, though in spite of her mother." + +"And how old is this lady that is being bred up for a countess?" asked he +of the Grove. + +"Fifteen, a couple of years more or less," answered Sancho; "but she is +as tall as a lance, and as fresh as an April morning, and as strong as a +porter." + +"Those are gifts to fit her to be not only a countess but a nymph of the +greenwood," said he of the Grove; "whoreson strumpet! what pith the rogue +must have!" + +To which Sancho made answer, somewhat sulkily, "She's no strumpet, nor +was her mother, nor will either of them be, please God, while I live; +speak more civilly; for one bred up among knights-errant, who are +courtesy itself, your words don't seem to me to be very becoming." + +"O how little you know about compliments, sir squire," returned he of the +Grove. "What! don't you know that when a horseman delivers a good lance +thrust at the bull in the plaza, or when anyone does anything very well, +the people are wont to say, 'Ha, whoreson rip! how well he has done it!' +and that what seems to be abuse in the expression is high praise? Disown +sons and daughters, senor, who don't do what deserves that compliments of +this sort should be paid to their parents." + +"I do disown them," replied Sancho, "and in this way, and by the same +reasoning, you might call me and my children and my wife all the +strumpets in the world, for all they do and say is of a kind that in the +highest degree deserves the same praise; and to see them again I pray God +to deliver me from mortal sin, or, what comes to the same thing, to +deliver me from this perilous calling of squire into which I have fallen +a second time, decayed and beguiled by a purse with a hundred ducats that +I found one day in the heart of the Sierra Morena; and the devil is +always putting a bag full of doubloons before my eyes, here, there, +everywhere, until I fancy at every stop I am putting my hand on it, and +hugging it, and carrying it home with me, and making investments, and +getting interest, and living like a prince; and so long as I think of +this I make light of all the hardships I endure with this simpleton of a +master of mine, who, I well know, is more of a madman than a knight." + +"There's why they say that 'covetousness bursts the bag,'" said he of the +Grove; "but if you come to talk of that sort, there is not a greater one +in the world than my master, for he is one of those of whom they say, +'the cares of others kill the ass;' for, in order that another knight may +recover the senses he has lost, he makes a madman of himself and goes +looking for what, when found, may, for all I know, fly in his own face." +"And is he in love perchance?" asked Sancho. + +"He is," said of the Grove, "with one Casildea de Vandalia, the rawest +and best roasted lady the whole world could produce; but that rawness is +not the only foot he limps on, for he has greater schemes rumbling in his +bowels, as will be seen before many hours are over." + +"There's no road so smooth but it has some hole or hindrance in it," said +Sancho; "in other houses they cook beans, but in mine it's by the potful; +madness will have more followers and hangers-on than sound sense; but if +there be any truth in the common saying, that to have companions in +trouble gives some relief, I may take consolation from you, inasmuch as +you serve a master as crazy as my own." + +"Crazy but valiant," replied he of the Grove, "and more roguish than +crazy or valiant." + +"Mine is not that," said Sancho; "I mean he has nothing of the rogue in +him; on the contrary, he has the soul of a pitcher; he has no thought of +doing harm to anyone, only good to all, nor has he any malice whatever in +him; a child might persuade him that it is night at noonday; and for this +simplicity I love him as the core of my heart, and I can't bring myself +to leave him, let him do ever such foolish things." + +"For all that, brother and senor," said he of the Grove, "if the blind +lead the blind, both are in danger of falling into the pit. It is better +for us to beat a quiet retreat and get back to our own quarters; for +those who seek adventures don't always find good ones." + +Sancho kept spitting from time to time, and his spittle seemed somewhat +ropy and dry, observing which the compassionate squire of the Grove said, +"It seems to me that with all this talk of ours our tongues are sticking +to the roofs of our mouths; but I have a pretty good loosener hanging +from the saddle-bow of my horse," and getting up he came back the next +minute with a large bota of wine and a pasty half a yard across; and this +is no exaggeration, for it was made of a house rabbit so big that Sancho, +as he handled it, took it to be made of a goat, not to say a kid, and +looking at it he said, "And do you carry this with you, senor?" + +"Why, what are you thinking about?" said the other; "do you take me for +some paltry squire? I carry a better larder on my horse's croup than a +general takes with him when he goes on a march." + +Sancho ate without requiring to be pressed, and in the dark bolted +mouthfuls like the knots on a tether, and said he, "You are a proper +trusty squire, one of the right sort, sumptuous and grand, as this +banquet shows, which, if it has not come here by magic art, at any rate +has the look of it; not like me, unlucky beggar, that have nothing more +in my alforjas than a scrap of cheese, so hard that one might brain a +giant with it, and, to keep it company, a few dozen carobs and as many +more filberts and walnuts; thanks to the austerity of my master, and the +idea he has and the rule he follows, that knights-errant must not live or +sustain themselves on anything except dried fruits and the herbs of the +field." + +"By my faith, brother," said he of the Grove, "my stomach is not made for +thistles, or wild pears, or roots of the woods; let our masters do as +they like, with their chivalry notions and laws, and eat what those +enjoin; I carry my prog-basket and this bota hanging to the saddle-bow, +whatever they may say; and it is such an object of worship with me, and I +love it so, that there is hardly a moment but I am kissing and embracing +it over and over again;" and so saying he thrust it into Sancho's hands, +who raising it aloft pointed to his mouth, gazed at the stars for a +quarter of an hour; and when he had done drinking let his head fall on +one side, and giving a deep sigh, exclaimed, "Ah, whoreson rogue, how +catholic it is!" + +"There, you see," said he of the Grove, hearing Sancho's exclamation, +"how you have called this wine whoreson by way of praise." + +"Well," said Sancho, "I own it, and I grant it is no dishonour to call +anyone whoreson when it is to be understood as praise. But tell me, +senor, by what you love best, is this Ciudad Real wine?" + +"O rare wine-taster!" said he of the Grove; "nowhere else indeed does it +come from, and it has some years' age too." + +"Leave me alone for that," said Sancho; "never fear but I'll hit upon the +place it came from somehow. What would you say, sir squire, to my having +such a great natural instinct in judging wines that you have only to let +me smell one and I can tell positively its country, its kind, its flavour +and soundness, the changes it will undergo, and everything that +appertains to a wine? But it is no wonder, for I have had in my family, +on my father's side, the two best wine-tasters that have been known in La +Mancha for many a long year, and to prove it I'll tell you now a thing +that happened them. They gave the two of them some wine out of a cask, to +try, asking their opinion as to the condition, quality, goodness or +badness of the wine. One of them tried it with the tip of his tongue, the +other did no more than bring it to his nose. The first said the wine had +a flavour of iron, the second said it had a stronger flavour of cordovan. +The owner said the cask was clean, and that nothing had been added to the +wine from which it could have got a flavour of either iron or leather. +Nevertheless, these two great wine-tasters held to what they had said. +Time went by, the wine was sold, and when they came to clean out the +cask, they found in it a small key hanging to a thong of cordovan; see +now if one who comes of the same stock has not a right to give his +opinion in such like cases." + +"Therefore, I say," said he of the Grove, "let us give up going in quest +of adventures, and as we have loaves let us not go looking for cakes, but +return to our cribs, for God will find us there if it be his will." + +"Until my master reaches Saragossa," said Sancho, "I'll remain in his +service; after that we'll see." + +The end of it was that the two squires talked so much and drank so much +that sleep had to tie their tongues and moderate their thirst, for to +quench it was impossible; and so the pair of them fell asleep clinging to +the now nearly empty bota and with half-chewed morsels in their mouths; +and there we will leave them for the present, to relate what passed +between the Knight of the Grove and him of the Rueful Countenance. + +Chapter XIV. - +Wherein is continued the adventure of the Knight of the Grove + +Among the things that passed between Don Quixote and the Knight of the +Wood, the history tells us he of the Grove said to Don Quixote, "In fine, +sir knight, I would have you know that my destiny, or, more properly +speaking, my choice led me to fall in love with the peerless Casildea de +Vandalia. I call her peerless because she has no peer, whether it be in +bodily stature or in the supremacy of rank and beauty. This same +Casildea, then, that I speak of, requited my honourable passion and +gentle aspirations by compelling me, as his stepmother did Hercules, to +engage in many perils of various sorts, at the end of each promising me +that, with the end of the next, the object of my hopes should be +attained; but my labours have gone on increasing link by link until they +are past counting, nor do I know what will be the last one that is to be +the beginning of the accomplishment of my chaste desires. On one occasion +she bade me go and challenge the famous giantess of Seville, La Giralda +by name, who is as mighty and strong as if made of brass, and though +never stirring from one spot, is the most restless and changeable woman +in the world. I came, I saw, I conquered, and I made her stay quiet and +behave herself, for nothing but north winds blew for more than a week. +Another time I was ordered to lift those ancient stones, the mighty bulls +of Guisando, an enterprise that might more fitly be entrusted to porters +than to knights. Again, she bade me fling myself into the cavern of +Cabra--an unparalleled and awful peril--and bring her a minute account of +all that is concealed in those gloomy depths. I stopped the motion of the +Giralda, I lifted the bulls of Guisando, I flung myself into the cavern +and brought to light the secrets of its abyss; and my hopes are as dead +as dead can be, and her scorn and her commands as lively as ever. To be +brief, last of all she has commanded me to go through all the provinces +of Spain and compel all the knights-errant wandering therein to confess +that she surpasses all women alive to-day in beauty, and that I am the +most valiant and the most deeply enamoured knight on earth; in support of +which claim I have already travelled over the greater part of Spain, and +have there vanquished several knights who have dared to contradict me; +but what I most plume and pride myself upon is having vanquished in +single combat that so famous knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, and made +him confess that my Casildea is more beautiful than his Dulcinea; and in +this one victory I hold myself to have conquered all the knights in the +world; for this Don Quixote that I speak of has vanquished them all, and +I having vanquished him, his glory, his fame, and his honour have passed +and are transferred to my person; for + +poem{ + + The more the vanquished hath of fair renown, + The greater glory gilds the victor's crown. + +}poem + +Thus the innumerable achievements of the said Don Quixote are now set +down to my account and have become mine." + +Don Quixote was amazed when he heard the Knight of the Grove, and was a +thousand times on the point of telling him he lied, and had the lie +direct already on the tip of his tongue; but he restrained himself as +well as he could, in order to force him to confess the lie with his own +lips; so he said to him quietly, "As to what you say, sir knight, about +having vanquished most of the knights of Spain, or even of the whole +world, I say nothing; but that you have vanquished Don Quixote of La +Mancha I consider doubtful; it may have been some other that resembled +him, although there are few like him." + +"How! not vanquished?" said he of the Grove; "by the heaven that is above +us I fought Don Quixote and overcame him and made him yield; and he is a +man of tall stature, gaunt features, long, lank limbs, with hair turning +grey, an aquiline nose rather hooked, and large black drooping +moustaches; he does battle under the name of 'The Countenance,' and he +has for squire a peasant called Sancho Panza; he presses the loins and +rules the reins of a famous steed called Rocinante; and lastly, he has +for the mistress of his will a certain Dulcinea del Toboso, once upon a +time called Aldonza Lorenzo, just as I call mine Casildea de Vandalia +because her name is Casilda and she is of Andalusia. If all these tokens +are not enough to vindicate the truth of what I say, here is my sword, +that will compel incredulity itself to give credence to it." + +"Calm yourself, sir knight," said Don Quixote, "and give ear to what I am +about to say to you. I would have you know that this Don Quixote you +speak of is the greatest friend I have in the world; so much so that I +may say I regard him in the same light as my own person; and from the +precise and clear indications you have given I cannot but think that he +must be the very one you have vanquished. On the other hand, I see with +my eyes and feel with my hands that it is impossible it can have been the +same; unless indeed it be that, as he has many enemies who are +enchanters, and one in particular who is always persecuting him, some one +of these may have taken his shape in order to allow himself to be +vanquished, so as to defraud him of the fame that his exalted +achievements as a knight have earned and acquired for him throughout the +known world. And in confirmation of this, I must tell you, too, that it +is but ten hours since these said enchanters his enemies transformed the +shape and person of the fair Dulcinea del Toboso into a foul and mean +village lass, and in the same way they must have transformed Don Quixote; +and if all this does not suffice to convince you of the truth of what I +say, here is Don Quixote himself, who will maintain it by arms, on foot +or on horseback or in any way you please." + +And so saying he stood up and laid his hand on his sword, waiting to see +what the Knight of the Grove would do, who in an equally calm voice said +in reply, "Pledges don't distress a good payer; he who has succeeded in +vanquishing you once when transformed, Sir Don Quixote, may fairly hope +to subdue you in your own proper shape; but as it is not becoming for +knights to perform their feats of arms in the dark, like highwaymen and +bullies, let us wait till daylight, that the sun may behold our deeds; +and the conditions of our combat shall be that the vanquished shall be at +the victor's disposal, to do all that he may enjoin, provided the +injunction be such as shall be becoming a knight." + +"I am more than satisfied with these conditions and terms," replied Don +Quixote; and so saying, they betook themselves to where their squires +lay, and found them snoring, and in the same posture they were in when +sleep fell upon them. They roused them up, and bade them get the horses +ready, as at sunrise they were to engage in a bloody and arduous single +combat; at which intelligence Sancho was aghast and thunderstruck, +trembling for the safety of his master because of the mighty deeds he had +heard the squire of the Grove ascribe to his; but without a word the two +squires went in quest of their cattle; for by this time the three horses +and the ass had smelt one another out, and were all together. + +On the way, he of the Grove said to Sancho, "You must know, brother, that +it is the custom with the fighting men of Andalusia, when they are +godfathers in any quarrel, not to stand idle with folded arms while their +godsons fight; I say so to remind you that while our masters are +fighting, we, too, have to fight, and knock one another to shivers." + +"That custom, sir squire," replied Sancho, "may hold good among those +bullies and fighting men you talk of, but certainly not among the squires +of knights-errant; at least, I have never heard my master speak of any +custom of the sort, and he knows all the laws of knight-errantry by +heart; but granting it true that there is an express law that squires are +to fight while their masters are fighting, I don't mean to obey it, but +to pay the penalty that may be laid on peacefully minded squires like +myself; for I am sure it cannot be more than two pounds of wax, and I +would rather pay that, for I know it will cost me less than the lint I +shall be at the expense of to mend my head, which I look upon as broken +and split already; there's another thing that makes it impossible for me +to fight, that I have no sword, for I never carried one in my life." + +"I know a good remedy for that," said he of the Grove; "I have here two +linen bags of the same size; you shall take one, and I the other, and we +will fight at bag blows with equal arms." + +"If that's the way, so be it with all my heart," said Sancho, "for that +sort of battle will serve to knock the dust out of us instead of hurting +us." + +"That will not do," said the other, "for we must put into the bags, to +keep the wind from blowing them away, half a dozen nice smooth pebbles, +all of the same weight; and in this way we shall be able to baste one +another without doing ourselves any harm or mischief." + +"Body of my father!" said Sancho, "see what marten and sable, and pads of +carded cotton he is putting into the bags, that our heads may not be +broken and our bones beaten to jelly! But even if they are filled with +toss silk, I can tell you, senor, I am not going to fight; let our +masters fight, that's their lookout, and let us drink and live; for time +will take care to ease us of our lives, without our going to look for +fillips so that they may be finished off before their proper time comes +and they drop from ripeness." + +"Still," returned he of the Grove, "we must fight, if it be only for half +an hour." + +"By no means," said Sancho; "I am not going to be so discourteous or so +ungrateful as to have any quarrel, be it ever so small, with one I have +eaten and drunk with; besides, who the devil could bring himself to fight +in cold blood, without anger or provocation?" + +"I can remedy that entirely," said he of the Grove, "and in this way: +before we begin the battle, I will come up to your worship fair and +softly, and give you three or four buffets, with which I shall stretch +you at my feet and rouse your anger, though it were sleeping sounder than +a dormouse." + +"To match that plan," said Sancho, "I have another that is not a whit +behind it; I will take a cudgel, and before your worship comes near +enough to waken my anger I will send yours so sound to sleep with whacks, +that it won't waken unless it be in the other world, where it is known +that I am not a man to let my face be handled by anyone; let each look +out for the arrow--though the surer way would be to let everyone's anger +sleep, for nobody knows the heart of anyone, and a man may come for wool +and go back shorn; God gave his blessing to peace and his curse to +quarrels; if a hunted cat, surrounded and hard pressed, turns into a +lion, God knows what I, who am a man, may turn into; and so from this +time forth I warn you, sir squire, that all the harm and mischief that +may come of our quarrel will be put down to your account." + +"Very good," said he of the Grove; "God will send the dawn and we shall +be all right." + +And now gay-plumaged birds of all sorts began to warble in the trees, and +with their varied and gladsome notes seemed to welcome and salute the +fresh morn that was beginning to show the beauty of her countenance at +the gates and balconies of the east, shaking from her locks a profusion +of liquid pearls; in which dulcet moisture bathed, the plants, too, +seemed to shed and shower down a pearly spray, the willows distilled +sweet manna, the fountains laughed, the brooks babbled, the woods +rejoiced, and the meadows arrayed themselves in all their glory at her +coming. But hardly had the light of day made it possible to see and +distinguish things, when the first object that presented itself to the +eyes of Sancho Panza was the squire of the Grove's nose, which was so big +that it almost overshadowed his whole body. It is, in fact, stated, that +it was of enormous size, hooked in the middle, covered with warts, and of +a mulberry colour like an egg-plant; it hung down two fingers' length +below his mouth, and the size, the colour, the warts, and the bend of it, +made his face so hideous, that Sancho, as he looked at him, began to +tremble hand and foot like a child in convulsions, and he vowed in his +heart to let himself be given two hundred buffets, sooner than be +provoked to fight that monster. Don Quixote examined his adversary, and +found that he already had his helmet on and visor lowered, so that he +could not see his face; he observed, however, that he was a sturdily +built man, but not very tall in stature. Over his armour he wore a +surcoat or cassock of what seemed to be the finest cloth of gold, all +bespangled with glittering mirrors like little moons, which gave him an +extremely gallant and splendid appearance; above his helmet fluttered a +great quantity of plumes, green, yellow, and white, and his lance, which +was leaning against a tree, was very long and stout, and had a steel +point more than a palm in length. + +Don Quixote observed all, and took note of all, and from what he saw and +observed he concluded that the said knight must be a man of great +strength, but he did not for all that give way to fear, like Sancho +Panza; on the contrary, with a composed and dauntless air, he said to the +Knight of the Mirrors, "If, sir knight, your great eagerness to fight has +not banished your courtesy, by it I would entreat you to raise your visor +a little, in order that I may see if the comeliness of your countenance +corresponds with that of your equipment." + +"Whether you come victorious or vanquished out of this emprise, sir +knight," replied he of the Mirrors, "you will have more than enough time +and leisure to see me; and if now I do not comply with your request, it +is because it seems to me I should do a serious wrong to the fair +Casildea de Vandalia in wasting time while I stopped to raise my visor +before compelling you to confess what you are already aware I maintain." + +"Well then," said Don Quixote, "while we are mounting you can at least +tell me if I am that Don Quixote whom you said you vanquished." + +"To that we answer you," said he of the Mirrors, "that you are as like +the very knight I vanquished as one egg is like another, but as you say +enchanters persecute you, I will not venture to say positively whether +you are the said person or not." + +"That," said Don Quixote, "is enough to convince me that you are under a +deception; however, entirely to relieve you of it, let our horses be +brought, and in less time than it would take you to raise your visor, if +God, my lady, and my arm stand me in good stead, I shall see your face, +and you shall see that I am not the vanquished Don Quixote you take me to +be." + +With this, cutting short the colloquy, they mounted, and Don Quixote +wheeled Rocinante round in order to take a proper distance to charge back +upon his adversary, and he of the Mirrors did the same; but Don Quixote +had not moved away twenty paces when he heard himself called by the +other, and, each returning half-way, he of the Mirrors said to him, +"Remember, sir knight, that the terms of our combat are, that the +vanquished, as I said before, shall be at the victor's disposal." + +"I am aware of it already," said Don Quixote; "provided what is commanded +and imposed upon the vanquished be things that do not transgress the +limits of chivalry." + +"That is understood," replied he of the Mirrors. + +At this moment the extraordinary nose of the squire presented itself to +Don Quixote's view, and he was no less amazed than Sancho at the sight; +insomuch that he set him down as a monster of some kind, or a human being +of some new species or unearthly breed. Sancho, seeing his master +retiring to run his course, did not like to be left alone with the nosy +man, fearing that with one flap of that nose on his own the battle would +be all over for him and he would be left stretched on the ground, either +by the blow or with fright; so he ran after his master, holding on to +Rocinante's stirrup-leather, and when it seemed to him time to turn +about, he said, "I implore of your worship, senor, before you turn to +charge, to help me up into this cork tree, from which I will be able to +witness the gallant encounter your worship is going to have with this +knight, more to my taste and better than from the ground." + +"It seems to me rather, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that thou wouldst +mount a scaffold in order to see the bulls without danger." + +"To tell the truth," returned Sancho, "the monstrous nose of that squire +has filled me with fear and terror, and I dare not stay near him." + +"It is," said Don Quixote, "such a one that were I not what I am it would +terrify me too; so, come, I will help thee up where thou wilt." + +While Don Quixote waited for Sancho to mount into the cork tree he of the +Mirrors took as much ground as he considered requisite, and, supposing +Don Quixote to have done the same, without waiting for any sound of +trumpet or other signal to direct them, he wheeled his horse, which was +not more agile or better-looking than Rocinante, and at his top speed, +which was an easy trot, he proceeded to charge his enemy; seeing him, +however, engaged in putting Sancho up, he drew rein, and halted in mid +career, for which his horse was very grateful, as he was already unable +to go. Don Quixote, fancying that his foe was coming down upon him +flying, drove his spurs vigorously into Rocinante's lean flanks and made +him scud along in such style that the history tells us that on this +occasion only was he known to make something like running, for on all +others it was a simple trot with him; and with this unparalleled fury he +bore down where he of the Mirrors stood digging his spurs into his horse +up to buttons, without being able to make him stir a finger's length from +the spot where he had come to a standstill in his course. At this lucky +moment and crisis, Don Quixote came upon his adversary, in trouble with +his horse, and embarrassed with his lance, which he either could not +manage, or had no time to lay in rest. Don Quixote, however, paid no +attention to these difficulties, and in perfect safety to himself and +without any risk encountered him of the Mirrors with such force that he +brought him to the ground in spite of himself over the haunches of his +horse, and with so heavy a fall that he lay to all appearance dead, not +stirring hand or foot. The instant Sancho saw him fall he slid down from +the cork tree, and made all haste to where his master was, who, +dismounting from Rocinante, went and stood over him of the Mirrors, and +unlacing his helmet to see if he was dead, and to give him air if he +should happen to be alive, he saw--who can say what he saw, without +filling all who hear it with astonishment, wonder, and awe? He saw, the +history says, the very countenance, the very face, the very look, the +very physiognomy, the very effigy, the very image of the bachelor Samson +Carrasco! As soon as he saw it he called out in a loud voice, "Make haste +here, Sancho, and behold what thou art to see but not to believe; quick, +my son, and learn what magic can do, and wizards and enchanters are +capable of." + +Sancho came up, and when he saw the countenance of the bachelor Carrasco, +he fell to crossing himself a thousand times, and blessing himself as +many more. All this time the prostrate knight showed no signs of life, +and Sancho said to Don Quixote, "It is my opinion, senor, that in any +case your worship should take and thrust your sword into the mouth of +this one here that looks like the bachelor Samson Carrasco; perhaps in +him you will kill one of your enemies, the enchanters." + +"Thy advice is not bad," said Don Quixote, "for of enemies the fewer the +better;" and he was drawing his sword to carry into effect Sancho's +counsel and suggestion, when the squire of the Mirrors came up, now +without the nose which had made him so hideous, and cried out in a loud +voice, "Mind what you are about, Senor Don Quixote; that is your friend, +the bachelor Samson Carrasco, you have at your feet, and I am his +squire." + +"And the nose?" said Sancho, seeing him without the hideous feature he +had before; to which he replied, "I have it here in my pocket," and +putting his hand into his right pocket, he pulled out a masquerade nose +of varnished pasteboard of the make already described; and Sancho, +examining him more and more closely, exclaimed aloud in a voice of +amazement, "Holy Mary be good to me! Isn't it Tom Cecial, my neighbour +and gossip?" + +"Why, to be sure I am!" returned the now unnosed squire; "Tom Cecial I +am, gossip and friend Sancho Panza; and I'll tell you presently the means +and tricks and falsehoods by which I have been brought here; but in the +meantime, beg and entreat of your master not to touch, maltreat, wound, +or slay the Knight of the Mirrors whom he has at his feet; because, +beyond all dispute, it is the rash and ill-advised bachelor Samson +Carrasco, our fellow townsman." + +At this moment he of the Mirrors came to himself, and Don Quixote +perceiving it, held the naked point of his sword over his face, and said +to him, "You are a dead man, knight, unless you confess that the peerless +Dulcinea del Toboso excels your Casildea de Vandalia in beauty; and in +addition to this you must promise, if you should survive this encounter +and fall, to go to the city of El Toboso and present yourself before her +on my behalf, that she deal with you according to her good pleasure; and +if she leaves you free to do yours, you are in like manner to return and +seek me out (for the trail of my mighty deeds will serve you as a guide +to lead you to where I may be), and tell me what may have passed between +you and her-conditions which, in accordance with what we stipulated +before our combat, do not transgress the just limits of knight-errantry." + +"I confess," said the fallen knight, "that the dirty tattered shoe of the +lady Dulcinea del Toboso is better than the ill-combed though clean beard +of Casildea; and I promise to go and to return from her presence to +yours, and to give you a full and particular account of all you demand of +me." + +"You must also confess and believe," added Don Quixote, "that the knight +you vanquished was not and could not be Don Quixote of La Mancha, but +some one else in his likeness, just as I confess and believe that you, +though you seem to be the bachelor Samson Carrasco, are not so, but some +other resembling him, whom my enemies have here put before me in his +shape, in order that I may restrain and moderate the vehemence of my +wrath, and make a gentle use of the glory of my victory." + +"I confess, hold, and think everything to be as you believe, hold, and +think it," the crippled knight; "let me rise, I entreat you; if, indeed, +the shock of my fall will allow me, for it has left me in a sorry plight +enough." + +Don Quixote helped him to rise, with the assistance of his squire Tom +Cecial; from whom Sancho never took his eyes, and to whom he put +questions, the replies to which furnished clear proof that he was really +and truly the Tom Cecial he said; but the impression made on Sancho's +mind by what his master said about the enchanters having changed the face +of the Knight of the Mirrors into that of the bachelor Samson Carrasco, +would not permit him to believe what he saw with his eyes. In fine, both +master and man remained under the delusion; and, down in the mouth, and +out of luck, he of the Mirrors and his squire parted from Don Quixote and +Sancho, he meaning to go look for some village where he could plaster and +strap his ribs. Don Quixote and Sancho resumed their journey to +Saragossa, and on it the history leaves them in order that it may tell +who the Knight of the Mirrors and his long-nosed squire were. + +Chapter XV. - +Wherein it is told and known who the Knight of the Mirrors and his Squire +were + +Don Quixote went off satisfied, elated, and vain-glorious in the highest +degree at having won a victory over such a valiant knight as he fancied +him of the Mirrors to be, and one from whose knightly word he expected to +learn whether the enchantment of his lady still continued; inasmuch as +the said vanquished knight was bound, under the penalty of ceasing to be +one, to return and render him an account of what took place between him +and her. But Don Quixote was of one mind, he of the Mirrors of another, +for he just then had no thought of anything but finding some village +where he could plaster himself, as has been said already. The history +goes on to say, then, that when the bachelor Samson Carrasco recommended +Don Quixote to resume his knight-errantry which he had laid aside, it was +in consequence of having been previously in conclave with the curate and +the barber on the means to be adopted to induce Don Quixote to stay at +home in peace and quiet without worrying himself with his ill-starred +adventures; at which consultation it was decided by the unanimous vote of +all, and on the special advice of Carrasco, that Don Quixote should be +allowed to go, as it seemed impossible to restrain him, and that Samson +should sally forth to meet him as a knight-errant, and do battle with +him, for there would be no difficulty about a cause, and vanquish him, +that being looked upon as an easy matter; and that it should be agreed +and settled that the vanquished was to be at the mercy of the victor. +Then, Don Quixote being vanquished, the bachelor knight was to command +him to return to his village and his house, and not quit it for two +years, or until he received further orders from him; all which it was +clear Don Quixote would unhesitatingly obey, rather than contravene or +fail to observe the laws of chivalry; and during the period of his +seclusion he might perhaps forget his folly, or there might be an +opportunity of discovering some ready remedy for his madness. Carrasco +undertook the task, and Tom Cecial, a gossip and neighbour of Sancho +Panza's, a lively, feather-headed fellow, offered himself as his squire. +Carrasco armed himself in the fashion described, and Tom Cecial, that he +might not be known by his gossip when they met, fitted on over his own +natural nose the false masquerade one that has been mentioned; and so +they followed the same route Don Quixote took, and almost came up with +him in time to be present at the adventure of the cart of Death and +finally encountered them in the grove, where all that the sagacious +reader has been reading about took place; and had it not been for the +extraordinary fancies of Don Quixote, and his conviction that the +bachelor was not the bachelor, senor bachelor would have been +incapacitated for ever from taking his degree of licentiate, all through +not finding nests where he thought to find birds. + +Tom Cecial, seeing how ill they had succeeded, and what a sorry end their +expedition had come to, said to the bachelor, "Sure enough, Senor Samson +Carrasco, we are served right; it is easy enough to plan and set about an +enterprise, but it is often a difficult matter to come well out of it. +Don Quixote a madman, and we sane; he goes off laughing, safe, and sound, +and you are left sore and sorry! I'd like to know now which is the +madder, he who is so because he cannot help it, or he who is so of his +own choice?" + +To which Samson replied, "The difference between the two sorts of madmen +is, that he who is so will he nil he, will be one always, while he who is +so of his own accord can leave off being one whenever he likes." + +"In that case," said Tom Cecial, "I was a madman of my own accord when I +volunteered to become your squire, and, of my own accord, I'll leave off +being one and go home." + +"That's your affair," returned Samson, "but to suppose that I am going +home until I have given Don Quixote a thrashing is absurd; and it is not +any wish that he may recover his senses that will make me hunt him out +now, but a wish for the sore pain I am in with my ribs won't let me +entertain more charitable thoughts." + +Thus discoursing, the pair proceeded until they reached a town where it +was their good luck to find a bone-setter, with whose help the +unfortunate Samson was cured. Tom Cecial left him and went home, while he +stayed behind meditating vengeance; and the history will return to him +again at the proper time, so as not to omit making merry with Don Quixote +now. + +Chapter XVI. - +Of what befell Don Quixote with a discreet gentleman of La Mancha + +Don Quixote pursued his journey in the high spirits, satisfaction, and +self-complacency already described, fancying himself the most valorous +knight-errant of the age in the world because of his late victory. All +the adventures that could befall him from that time forth he regarded as +already done and brought to a happy issue; he made light of enchantments +and enchanters; he thought no more of the countless drubbings that had +been administered to him in the course of his knight-errantry, nor of the +volley of stones that had levelled half his teeth, nor of the ingratitude +of the galley slaves, nor of the audacity of the Yanguesans and the +shower of stakes that fell upon him; in short, he said to himself that +could he discover any means, mode, or way of disenchanting his lady +Dulcinea, he would not envy the highest fortune that the most fortunate +knight-errant of yore ever reached or could reach. + +He was going along entirely absorbed in these fancies, when Sancho said +to him, "Isn't it odd, senor, that I have still before my eyes that +monstrous enormous nose of my gossip, Tom Cecial?" + +"And dost thou, then, believe, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that the +Knight of the Mirrors was the bachelor Carrasco, and his squire Tom +Cecial thy gossip?" + +"I don't know what to say to that," replied Sancho; "all I know is that +the tokens he gave me about my own house, wife and children, nobody else +but himself could have given me; and the face, once the nose was off, was +the very face of Tom Cecial, as I have seen it many a time in my town and +next door to my own house; and the sound of the voice was just the same." + +"Let us reason the matter, Sancho," said Don Quixote. "Come now, by what +process of thinking can it be supposed that the bachelor Samson Carrasco +would come as a knight-errant, in arms offensive and defensive, to fight +with me? Have I ever been by any chance his enemy? Have I ever given him +any occasion to owe me a grudge? Am I his rival, or does he profess arms, +that he should envy the fame I have acquired in them?" + +"Well, but what are we to say, senor," returned Sancho, "about that +knight, whoever he is, being so like the bachelor Carrasco, and his +squire so like my gossip, Tom Cecial? And if that be enchantment, as your +worship says, was there no other pair in the world for them to take the +likeness of?" + +"It is all," said Don Quixote, "a scheme and plot of the malignant +magicians that persecute me, who, foreseeing that I was to be victorious +in the conflict, arranged that the vanquished knight should display the +countenance of my friend the bachelor, in order that the friendship I +bear him should interpose to stay the edge of my sword and might of my +arm, and temper the just wrath of my heart; so that he who sought to take +my life by fraud and falsehood should save his own. And to prove it, thou +knowest already, Sancho, by experience which cannot lie or deceive, how +easy it is for enchanters to change one countenance into another, turning +fair into foul, and foul into fair; for it is not two days since thou +sawest with thine own eyes the beauty and elegance of the peerless +Dulcinea in all its perfection and natural harmony, while I saw her in +the repulsive and mean form of a coarse country wench, with cataracts in +her eyes and a foul smell in her mouth; and when the perverse enchanter +ventured to effect so wicked a transformation, it is no wonder if he +effected that of Samson Carrasco and thy gossip in order to snatch the +glory of victory out of my grasp. For all that, however, I console +myself, because, after all, in whatever shape he may have been, I have +victorious over my enemy." + +"God knows what's the truth of it all," said Sancho; and knowing as he +did that the transformation of Dulcinea had been a device and imposition +of his own, his master's illusions were not satisfactory to him; but he +did not like to reply lest he should say something that might disclose +his trickery. + +As they were engaged in this conversation they were overtaken by a man +who was following the same road behind them, mounted on a very handsome +flea-bitten mare, and dressed in a gaban of fine green cloth, with tawny +velvet facings, and a montera of the same velvet. The trappings of the +mare were of the field and jineta fashion, and of mulberry colour and +green. He carried a Moorish cutlass hanging from a broad green and gold +baldric; the buskins were of the same make as the baldric; the spurs were +not gilt, but lacquered green, and so brightly polished that, matching as +they did the rest of his apparel, they looked better than if they had +been of pure gold. + +When the traveller came up with them he saluted them courteously, and +spurring his mare was passing them without stopping, but Don Quixote +called out to him, "Gallant sir, if so be your worship is going our road, +and has no occasion for speed, it would be a pleasure to me if we were to +join company." + +"In truth," replied he on the mare, "I would not pass you so hastily but +for fear that horse might turn restive in the company of my mare." + +"You may safely hold in your mare, senor," said Sancho in reply to this, +"for our horse is the most virtuous and well-behaved horse in the world; +he never does anything wrong on such occasions, and the only time he +misbehaved, my master and I suffered for it sevenfold; I say again your +worship may pull up if you like; for if she was offered to him between +two plates the horse would not hanker after her." + +The traveller drew rein, amazed at the trim and features of Don Quixote, +who rode without his helmet, which Sancho carried like a valise in front +of Dapple's pack-saddle; and if the man in green examined Don Quixote +closely, still more closely did Don Quixote examine the man in green, who +struck him as being a man of intelligence. In appearance he was about +fifty years of age, with but few grey hairs, an aquiline cast of +features, and an expression between grave and gay; and his dress and +accoutrements showed him to be a man of good condition. What he in green +thought of Don Quixote of La Mancha was that a man of that sort and shape +he had never yet seen; he marvelled at the length of his hair, his lofty +stature, the lankness and sallowness of his countenance, his armour, his +bearing and his gravity--a figure and picture such as had not been seen +in those regions for many a long day. + +Don Quixote saw very plainly the attention with which the traveller was +regarding him, and read his curiosity in his astonishment; and courteous +as he was and ready to please everybody, before the other could ask him +any question he anticipated him by saying, "The appearance I present to +your worship being so strange and so out of the common, I should not be +surprised if it filled you with wonder; but you will cease to wonder when +I tell you, as I do, that I am one of those knights who, as people say, +go seeking adventures. I have left my home, I have mortgaged my estate, I +have given up my comforts, and committed myself to the arms of Fortune, +to bear me whithersoever she may please. My desire was to bring to life +again knight-errantry, now dead, and for some time past, stumbling here, +falling there, now coming down headlong, now raising myself up again, I +have carried out a great portion of my design, succouring widows, +protecting maidens, and giving aid to wives, orphans, and minors, the +proper and natural duty of knights-errant; and, therefore, because of my +many valiant and Christian achievements, I have been already found worthy +to make my way in print to well-nigh all, or most, of the nations of the +earth. Thirty thousand volumes of my history have been printed, and it is +on the high-road to be printed thirty thousand thousands of times, if +heaven does not put a stop to it. In short, to sum up all in a few words, +or in a single one, I may tell you I am Don Quixote of La Mancha, +otherwise called 'The Knight of the Rueful Countenance;' for though +self-praise is degrading, I must perforce sound my own sometimes, that is +to say, when there is no one at hand to do it for me. So that, gentle +sir, neither this horse, nor this lance, nor this shield, nor this +squire, nor all these arms put together, nor the sallowness of my +countenance, nor my gaunt leanness, will henceforth astonish you, now +that you know who I am and what profession I follow." + +With these words Don Quixote held his peace, and, from the time he took +to answer, the man in green seemed to be at a loss for a reply; after a +long pause, however, he said to him, "You were right when you saw +curiosity in my amazement, sir knight; but you have not succeeded in +removing the astonishment I feel at seeing you; for although you say, +senor, that knowing who you are ought to remove it, it has not done so; +on the contrary, now that I know, I am left more amazed and astonished +than before. What! is it possible that there are knights-errant in the +world in these days, and histories of real chivalry printed? I cannot +realise the fact that there can be anyone on earth now-a-days who aids +widows, or protects maidens, or defends wives, or succours orphans; nor +should I believe it had I not seen it in your worship with my own eyes. +Blessed be heaven! for by means of this history of your noble and genuine +chivalrous deeds, which you say has been printed, the countless stories +of fictitious knights-errant with which the world is filled, so much to +the injury of morality and the prejudice and discredit of good histories, +will have been driven into oblivion." + +"There is a good deal to be said on that point," said Don Quixote, "as to +whether the histories of the knights-errant are fiction or not." + +"Why, is there anyone who doubts that those histories are false?" said +the man in green. + +"I doubt it," said Don Quixote, "but never mind that just now; if our +journey lasts long enough, I trust in God I shall show your worship that +you do wrong in going with the stream of those who regard it as a matter +of certainty that they are not true." + +From this last observation of Don Quixote's, the traveller began to have +a suspicion that he was some crazy being, and was waiting him to confirm +it by something further; but before they could turn to any new subject +Don Quixote begged him to tell him who he was, since he himself had +rendered account of his station and life. To this, he in the green gaban +replied "I, Sir Knight of the Rueful Countenance, am a gentleman by +birth, native of the village where, please God, we are going to dine +today; I am more than fairly well off, and my name is Don Diego de +Miranda. I pass my life with my wife, children, and friends; my pursuits +are hunting and fishing, but I keep neither hawks nor greyhounds, nothing +but a tame partridge or a bold ferret or two; I have six dozen or so of +books, some in our mother tongue, some Latin, some of them history, +others devotional; those of chivalry have not as yet crossed the +threshold of my door; I am more given to turning over the profane than +the devotional, so long as they are books of honest entertainment that +charm by their style and attract and interest by the invention they +display, though of these there are very few in Spain. Sometimes I dine +with my neighbours and friends, and often invite them; my entertainments +are neat and well served without stint of anything. I have no taste for +tattle, nor do I allow tattling in my presence; I pry not into my +neighbours' lives, nor have I lynx-eyes for what others do. I hear mass +every day; I share my substance with the poor, making no display of good +works, lest I let hypocrisy and vainglory, those enemies that subtly take +possession of the most watchful heart, find an entrance into mine. I +strive to make peace between those whom I know to be at variance; I am +the devoted servant of Our Lady, and my trust is ever in the infinite +mercy of God our Lord." + +Sancho listened with the greatest attention to the account of the +gentleman's life and occupation; and thinking it a good and a holy life, +and that he who led it ought to work miracles, he threw himself off +Dapple, and running in haste seized his right stirrup and kissed his foot +again and again with a devout heart and almost with tears. + +Seeing this the gentleman asked him, "What are you about, brother? What +are these kisses for?" + +"Let me kiss," said Sancho, "for I think your worship is the first saint +in the saddle I ever saw all the days of my life." + +"I am no saint," replied the gentleman, "but a great sinner; but you are, +brother, for you must be a good fellow, as your simplicity shows." + +Sancho went back and regained his pack-saddle, having extracted a laugh +from his master's profound melancholy, and excited fresh amazement in Don +Diego. Don Quixote then asked him how many children he had, and observed +that one of the things wherein the ancient philosophers, who were without +the true knowledge of God, placed the summum bonum was in the gifts of +nature, in those of fortune, in having many friends, and many and good +children. + +"I, Senor Don Quixote," answered the gentleman, "have one son, without +whom, perhaps, I should count myself happier than I am, not because he is +a bad son, but because he is not so good as I could wish. He is eighteen +years of age; he has been for six at Salamanca studying Latin and Greek, +and when I wished him to turn to the study of other sciences I found him +so wrapped up in that of poetry (if that can be called a science) that +there is no getting him to take kindly to the law, which I wished him to +study, or to theology, the queen of them all. I would like him to be an +honour to his family, as we live in days when our kings liberally reward +learning that is virtuous and worthy; for learning without virtue is a +pearl on a dunghill. He spends the whole day in settling whether Homer +expressed himself correctly or not in such and such a line of the Iliad, +whether Martial was indecent or not in such and such an epigram, whether +such and such lines of Virgil are to be understood in this way or in +that; in short, all his talk is of the works of these poets, and those of +Horace, Perseus, Juvenal, and Tibullus; for of the moderns in our own +language he makes no great account; but with all his seeming indifference +to Spanish poetry, just now his thoughts are absorbed in making a gloss +on four lines that have been sent him from Salamanca, which I suspect are +for some poetical tournament." + +To all this Don Quixote said in reply, "Children, senor, are portions of +their parents' bowels, and therefore, be they good or bad, are to be +loved as we love the souls that give us life; it is for the parents to +guide them from infancy in the ways of virtue, propriety, and worthy +Christian conduct, so that when grown up they may be the staff of their +parents' old age, and the glory of their posterity; and to force them to +study this or that science I do not think wise, though it may be no harm +to persuade them; and when there is no need to study for the sake of pane +lucrando, and it is the student's good fortune that heaven has given him +parents who provide him with it, it would be my advice to them to let him +pursue whatever science they may see him most inclined to; and though +that of poetry is less useful than pleasurable, it is not one of those +that bring discredit upon the possessor. Poetry, gentle sir, is, as I +take it, like a tender young maiden of supreme beauty, to array, bedeck, +and adorn whom is the task of several other maidens, who are all the rest +of the sciences; and she must avail herself of the help of all, and all +derive their lustre from her. But this maiden will not bear to be +handled, nor dragged through the streets, nor exposed either at the +corners of the market-places, or in the closets of palaces. She is the +product of an Alchemy of such virtue that he who is able to practise it, +will turn her into pure gold of inestimable worth. He that possesses her +must keep her within bounds, not permitting her to break out in ribald +satires or soulless sonnets. She must on no account be offered for sale, +unless, indeed, it be in heroic poems, moving tragedies, or sprightly and +ingenious comedies. She must not be touched by the buffoons, nor by the +ignorant vulgar, incapable of comprehending or appreciating her hidden +treasures. And do not suppose, senor, that I apply the term vulgar here +merely to plebeians and the lower orders; for everyone who is ignorant, +be he lord or prince, may and should be included among the vulgar. He, +then, who shall embrace and cultivate poetry under the conditions I have +named, shall become famous, and his name honoured throughout all the +civilised nations of the earth. And with regard to what you say, senor, +of your son having no great opinion of Spanish poetry, I am inclined to +think that he is not quite right there, and for this reason: the great +poet Homer did not write in Latin, because he was a Greek, nor did Virgil +write in Greek, because he was a Latin; in short, all the ancient poets +wrote in the language they imbibed with their mother's milk, and never +went in quest of foreign ones to express their sublime conceptions; and +that being so, the usage should in justice extend to all nations, and the +German poet should not be undervalued because he writes in his own +language, nor the Castilian, nor even the Biscayan, for writing in his. +But your son, senor, I suspect, is not prejudiced against Spanish poetry, +but against those poets who are mere Spanish verse writers, without any +knowledge of other languages or sciences to adorn and give life and +vigour to their natural inspiration; and yet even in this he may be +wrong; for, according to a true belief, a poet is born one; that is to +say, the poet by nature comes forth a poet from his mother's womb; and +following the bent that heaven has bestowed upon him, without the aid of +study or art, he produces things that show how truly he spoke who said, +'Est Deus in nobis,' etc. At the same time, I say that the poet by nature +who calls in art to his aid will be a far better poet, and will surpass +him who tries to be one relying upon his knowledge of art alone. The +reason is, that art does not surpass nature, but only brings it to +perfection; and thus, nature combined with art, and art with nature, will +produce a perfect poet. To bring my argument to a close, I would say +then, gentle sir, let your son go on as his star leads him, for being so +studious as he seems to be, and having already successfully surmounted +the first step of the sciences, which is that of the languages, with +their help he will by his own exertions reach the summit of polite +literature, which so well becomes an independent gentleman, and adorns, +honours, and distinguishes him, as much as the mitre does the bishop, or +the gown the learned counsellor. If your son write satires reflecting on +the honour of others, chide and correct him, and tear them up; but if he +compose discourses in which he rebukes vice in general, in the style of +Horace, and with elegance like his, commend him; for it is legitimate for +a poet to write against envy and lash the envious in his verse, and the +other vices too, provided he does not single out individuals; there are, +however, poets who, for the sake of saying something spiteful, would run +the risk of being banished to the coast of Pontus. If the poet be pure in +his morals, he will be pure in his verses too; the pen is the tongue of +the mind, and as the thought engendered there, so will be the things that +it writes down. And when kings and princes observe this marvellous +science of poetry in wise, virtuous, and thoughtful subjects, they +honour, value, exalt them, and even crown them with the leaves of that +tree which the thunderbolt strikes not, as if to show that they whose +brows are honoured and adorned with such a crown are not to be assailed +by anyone." + +He of the green gaban was filled with astonishment at Don Quixote's +argument, so much so that he began to abandon the notion he had taken up +about his being crazy. But in the middle of the discourse, it being not +very much to his taste, Sancho had turned aside out of the road to beg a +little milk from some shepherds, who were milking their ewes hard by; and +just as the gentleman, highly pleased, was about to renew the +conversation, Don Quixote, raising his head, perceived a cart covered +with royal flags coming along the road they were travelling; and +persuaded that this must be some new adventure, he called aloud to Sancho +to come and bring him his helmet. Sancho, hearing himself called, quitted +the shepherds, and, prodding Dapple vigorously, came up to his master, to +whom there fell a terrific and desperate adventure. + +Chapter XVII. - +Wherein is shown the furthest and highest point which the unexampled +courage of Don Quixote reached or could reach; together with the happily +achieved adventure of the lions + +The history tells that when Don Quixote called out to Sancho to bring him +his helmet, Sancho was buying some curds the shepherds agreed to sell +him, and flurried by the great haste his master was in did not know what +to do with them or what to carry them in; so, not to lose them, for he +had already paid for them, he thought it best to throw them into his +master's helmet, and acting on this bright idea he went to see what his +master wanted with him. He, as he approached, exclaimed to him: + +"Give me that helmet, my friend, for either I know little of adventures, +or what I observe yonder is one that will, and does, call upon me to arm +myself." + +He of the green gaban, on hearing this, looked in all directions, but +could perceive nothing, except a cart coming towards them with two or +three small flags, which led him to conclude it must be carrying treasure +of the King's, and he said so to Don Quixote. He, however, would not +believe him, being always persuaded and convinced that all that happened +to him must be adventures and still more adventures; so he replied to the +gentleman, "He who is prepared has his battle half fought; nothing is +lost by my preparing myself, for I know by experience that I have +enemies, visible and invisible, and I know not when, or where, or at what +moment, or in what shapes they will attack me;" and turning to Sancho he +called for his helmet; and Sancho, as he had no time to take out the +curds, had to give it just as it was. Don Quixote took it, and without +perceiving what was in it thrust it down in hot haste upon his head; but +as the curds were pressed and squeezed the whey began to run all over his +face and beard, whereat he was so startled that he cried out to Sancho: + +"Sancho, what's this? I think my head is softening, or my brains are +melting, or I am sweating from head to foot! If I am sweating it is not +indeed from fear. I am convinced beyond a doubt that the adventure which +is about to befall me is a terrible one. Give me something to wipe myself +with, if thou hast it, for this profuse sweat is blinding me." + +Sancho held his tongue, and gave him a cloth, and gave thanks to God at +the same time that his master had not found out what was the matter. Don +Quixote then wiped himself, and took off his helmet to see what it was +that made his head feel so cool, and seeing all that white mash inside +his helmet he put it to his nose, and as soon as he had smelt it he +exclaimed: + +"By the life of my lady Dulcinea del Toboso, but it is curds thou hast +put here, thou treacherous, impudent, ill-mannered squire!" + +To which, with great composure and pretended innocence, Sancho replied, +"If they are curds let me have them, your worship, and I'll eat them; but +let the devil eat them, for it must have been he who put them there. I +dare to dirty your helmet! You have guessed the offender finely! Faith, +sir, by the light God gives me, it seems I must have enchanters too, that +persecute me as a creature and limb of your worship, and they must have +put that nastiness there in order to provoke your patience to anger, and +make you baste my ribs as you are wont to do. Well, this time, indeed, +they have missed their aim, for I trust to my master's good sense to see +that I have got no curds or milk, or anything of the sort; and that if I +had it is in my stomach I would put it and not in the helmet." + +"May be so," said Don Quixote. All this the gentleman was observing, and +with astonishment, more especially when, after having wiped himself +clean, his head, face, beard, and helmet, Don Quixote put it on, and +settling himself firmly in his stirrups, easing his sword in the +scabbard, and grasping his lance, he cried, "Now, come who will, here am +I, ready to try conclusions with Satan himself in person!" + +By this time the cart with the flags had come up, unattended by anyone +except the carter on a mule, and a man sitting in front. Don Quixote +planted himself before it and said, "Whither are you going, brothers? +What cart is this? What have you got in it? What flags are those?" + +To this the carter replied, "The cart is mine; what is in it is a pair of +wild caged lions, which the governor of Oran is sending to court as a +present to his Majesty; and the flags are our lord the King's, to show +that what is here is his property." + +"And are the lions large?" asked Don Quixote. + +"So large," replied the man who sat at the door of the cart, "that +larger, or as large, have never crossed from Africa to Spain; I am the +keeper, and I have brought over others, but never any like these. They +are male and female; the male is in that first cage and the female in the +one behind, and they are hungry now, for they have eaten nothing to-day, +so let your worship stand aside, for we must make haste to the place +where we are to feed them." + +Hereupon, smiling slightly, Don Quixote exclaimed, "Lion-whelps to me! to +me whelps of lions, and at such a time! Then, by God! those gentlemen who +send them here shall see if I am a man to be frightened by lions. Get +down, my good fellow, and as you are the keeper open the cages, and turn +me out those beasts, and in the midst of this plain I will let them know +who Don Quixote of La Mancha is, in spite and in the teeth of the +enchanters who send them to me." + +"So, so," said the gentleman to himself at this; "our worthy knight has +shown of what sort he is; the curds, no doubt, have softened his skull +and brought his brains to a head." + +At this instant Sancho came up to him, saying, "Senor, for God's sake do +something to keep my master, Don Quixote, from tackling these lions; for +if he does they'll tear us all to pieces here." + +"Is your master then so mad," asked the gentleman, "that you believe and +are afraid he will engage such fierce animals?" + +"He is not mad," said Sancho, "but he is venturesome." + +"I will prevent it," said the gentleman; and going over to Don Quixote, +who was insisting upon the keeper's opening the cages, he said to him, +"Sir knight, knights-errant should attempt adventures which encourage the +hope of a successful issue, not those which entirely withhold it; for +valour that trenches upon temerity savours rather of madness than of +courage; moreover, these lions do not come to oppose you, nor do they +dream of such a thing; they are going as presents to his Majesty, and it +will not be right to stop them or delay their journey." + +"Gentle sir," replied Don Quixote, "you go and mind your tame partridge +and your bold ferret, and leave everyone to manage his own business; this +is mine, and I know whether these gentlemen the lions come to me or not;" +and then turning to the keeper he exclaimed, "By all that's good, sir +scoundrel, if you don't open the cages this very instant, I'll pin you to +the cart with this lance." + +The carter, seeing the determination of this apparition in armour, said +to him, "Please your worship, for charity's sake, senor, let me unyoke +the mules and place myself in safety along with them before the lions are +turned out; for if they kill them on me I am ruined for life, for all I +possess is this cart and mules." + +"O man of little faith," replied Don Quixote, "get down and unyoke; you +will soon see that you are exerting yourself for nothing, and that you +might have spared yourself the trouble." + +The carter got down and with all speed unyoked the mules, and the keeper +called out at the top of his voice, "I call all here to witness that +against my will and under compulsion I open the cages and let the lions +loose, and that I warn this gentleman that he will be accountable for all +the harm and mischief which these beasts may do, and for my salary and +dues as well. You, gentlemen, place yourselves in safety before I open, +for I know they will do me no harm." + +Once more the gentleman strove to persuade Don Quixote not to do such a +mad thing, as it was tempting God to engage in such a piece of folly. To +this, Don Quixote replied that he knew what he was about. The gentleman +in return entreated him to reflect, for he knew he was under a delusion. + +"Well, senor," answered Don Quixote, "if you do not like to be a +spectator of this tragedy, as in your opinion it will be, spur your +flea-bitten mare, and place yourself in safety." + +Hearing this, Sancho with tears in his eyes entreated him to give up an +enterprise compared with which the one of the windmills, and the awful +one of the fulling mills, and, in fact, all the feats he had attempted in +the whole course of his life, were cakes and fancy bread. "Look ye, +senor," said Sancho, "there's no enchantment here, nor anything of the +sort, for between the bars and chinks of the cage I have seen the paw of +a real lion, and judging by that I reckon the lion such a paw could +belong to must be bigger than a mountain." + +"Fear at any rate," replied Don Quixote, "will make him look bigger to +thee than half the world. Retire, Sancho, and leave me; and if I die here +thou knowest our old compact; thou wilt repair to Dulcinea--I say no +more." To these he added some further words that banished all hope of his +giving up his insane project. He of the green gaban would have offered +resistance, but he found himself ill-matched as to arms, and did not +think it prudent to come to blows with a madman, for such Don Quixote now +showed himself to be in every respect; and the latter, renewing his +commands to the keeper and repeating his threats, gave warning to the +gentleman to spur his mare, Sancho his Dapple, and the carter his mules, +all striving to get away from the cart as far as they could before the +lions broke loose. Sancho was weeping over his master's death, for this +time he firmly believed it was in store for him from the claws of the +lions; and he cursed his fate and called it an unlucky hour when he +thought of taking service with him again; but with all his tears and +lamentations he did not forget to thrash Dapple so as to put a good space +between himself and the cart. The keeper, seeing that the fugitives were +now some distance off, once more entreated and warned him as before; but +he replied that he heard him, and that he need not trouble himself with +any further warnings or entreaties, as they would be fruitless, and bade +him make haste. + +During the delay that occurred while the keeper was opening the first +cage, Don Quixote was considering whether it would not be well to do +battle on foot, instead of on horseback, and finally resolved to fight on +foot, fearing that Rocinante might take fright at the sight of the lions; +he therefore sprang off his horse, flung his lance aside, braced his +buckler on his arm, and drawing his sword, advanced slowly with +marvellous intrepidity and resolute courage, to plant himself in front of +the cart, commending himself with all his heart to God and to his lady +Dulcinea. + +It is to be observed, that on coming to this passage, the author of this +veracious history breaks out into exclamations. "O doughty Don Quixote! +high-mettled past extolling! Mirror, wherein all the heroes of the world +may see themselves! Second modern Don Manuel de Leon, once the glory and +honour of Spanish knighthood! In what words shall I describe this dread +exploit, by what language shall I make it credible to ages to come, what +eulogies are there unmeet for thee, though they be hyperboles piled on +hyperboles! On foot, alone, undaunted, high-souled, with but a simple +sword, and that no trenchant blade of the Perrillo brand, a shield, but +no bright polished steel one, there stoodst thou, biding and awaiting the +two fiercest lions that Africa's forests ever bred! Thy own deeds be thy +praise, valiant Manchegan, and here I leave them as they stand, wanting +the words wherewith to glorify them!" + +Here the author's outburst came to an end, and he proceeded to take up +the thread of his story, saying that the keeper, seeing that Don Quixote +had taken up his position, and that it was impossible for him to avoid +letting out the male without incurring the enmity of the fiery and daring +knight, flung open the doors of the first cage, containing, as has been +said, the lion, which was now seen to be of enormous size, and grim and +hideous mien. The first thing he did was to turn round in the cage in +which he lay, and protrude his claws, and stretch himself thoroughly; he +next opened his mouth, and yawned very leisurely, and with near two +palms' length of tongue that he had thrust forth, he licked the dust out +of his eyes and washed his face; having done this, he put his head out of +the cage and looked all round with eyes like glowing coals, a spectacle +and demeanour to strike terror into temerity itself. Don Quixote merely +observed him steadily, longing for him to leap from the cart and come to +close quarters with him, when he hoped to hew him in pieces. + +So far did his unparalleled madness go; but the noble lion, more +courteous than arrogant, not troubling himself about silly bravado, after +having looked all round, as has been said, turned about and presented his +hind-quarters to Don Quixote, and very coolly and tranquilly lay down +again in the cage. Seeing this, Don Quixote ordered the keeper to take a +stick to him and provoke him to make him come out. + +"That I won't," said the keeper; "for if I anger him, the first he'll +tear in pieces will be myself. Be satisfied, sir knight, with what you +have done, which leaves nothing more to be said on the score of courage, +and do not seek to tempt fortune a second time. The lion has the door +open; he is free to come out or not to come out; but as he has not come +out so far, he will not come out to-day. Your worship's great courage has +been fully manifested already; no brave champion, so it strikes me, is +bound to do more than challenge his enemy and wait for him on the field; +if his adversary does not come, on him lies the disgrace, and he who +waits for him carries off the crown of victory." + +"That is true," said Don Quixote; "close the door, my friend, and let me +have, in the best form thou canst, what thou hast seen me do, by way of +certificate; to wit, that thou didst open for the lion, that I waited for +him, that he did not come out, that I still waited for him, and that +still he did not come out, and lay down again. I am not bound to do more; +enchantments avaunt, and God uphold the right, the truth, and true +chivalry! Close the door as I bade thee, while I make signals to the +fugitives that have left us, that they may learn this exploit from thy +lips." + +The keeper obeyed, and Don Quixote, fixing on the point of his lance the +cloth he had wiped his face with after the deluge of curds, proceeded to +recall the others, who still continued to fly, looking back at every +step, all in a body, the gentleman bringing up the rear. Sancho, however, +happening to observe the signal of the white cloth, exclaimed, "May I +die, if my master has not overcome the wild beasts, for he is calling to +us." + +They all stopped, and perceived that it was Don Quixote who was making +signals, and shaking off their fears to some extent, they approached +slowly until they were near enough to hear distinctly Don Quixote's voice +calling to them. They returned at length to the cart, and as they came +up, Don Quixote said to the carter, "Put your mules to once more, +brother, and continue your journey; and do thou, Sancho, give him two +gold crowns for himself and the keeper, to compensate for the delay they +have incurred through me." + +"That will I give with all my heart," said Sancho; "but what has become +of the lions? Are they dead or alive?" + +The keeper, then, in full detail, and bit by bit, described the end of +the contest, exalting to the best of his power and ability the valour of +Don Quixote, at the sight of whom the lion quailed, and would not and +dared not come out of the cage, although he had held the door open ever +so long; and showing how, in consequence of his having represented to the +knight that it was tempting God to provoke the lion in order to force him +out, which he wished to have done, he very reluctantly, and altogether +against his will, had allowed the door to be closed. + +"What dost thou think of this, Sancho?" said Don Quixote. "Are there any +enchantments that can prevail against true valour? The enchanters may be +able to rob me of good fortune, but of fortitude and courage they +cannot." + +Sancho paid the crowns, the carter put to, the keeper kissed Don +Quixote's hands for the bounty bestowed upon him, and promised to give an +account of the valiant exploit to the King himself, as soon as he saw him +at court. + +"Then," said Don Quixote, "if his Majesty should happen to ask who +performed it, you must say THE KNIGHT OF THE LIONS; for it is my desire +that into this the name I have hitherto borne of Knight of the Rueful +Countenance be from this time forward changed, altered, transformed, and +turned; and in this I follow the ancient usage of knights-errant, who +changed their names when they pleased, or when it suited their purpose." + +The cart went its way, and Don Quixote, Sancho, and he of the green gaban +went theirs. All this time, Don Diego de Miranda had not spoken a word, +being entirely taken up with observing and noting all that Don Quixote +did and said, and the opinion he formed was that he was a man of brains +gone mad, and a madman on the verge of rationality. The first part of his +history had not yet reached him, for, had he read it, the amazement with +which his words and deeds filled him would have vanished, as he would +then have understood the nature of his madness; but knowing nothing of +it, he took him to be rational one moment, and crazy the next, for what +he said was sensible, elegant, and well expressed, and what he did, +absurd, rash, and foolish; and said he to himself, "What could be madder +than putting on a helmet full of curds, and then persuading oneself that +enchanters are softening one's skull; or what could be greater rashness +and folly than wanting to fight lions tooth and nail?" + +Don Quixote roused him from these reflections and this soliloquy by +saying, "No doubt, Senor Don Diego de Miranda, you set me down in your +mind as a fool and a madman, and it would be no wonder if you did, for my +deeds do not argue anything else. But for all that, I would have you take +notice that I am neither so mad nor so foolish as I must have seemed to +you. A gallant knight shows to advantage bringing his lance to bear +adroitly upon a fierce bull under the eyes of his sovereign, in the midst +of a spacious plaza; a knight shows to advantage arrayed in glittering +armour, pacing the lists before the ladies in some joyous tournament, and +all those knights show to advantage that entertain, divert, and, if we +may say so, honour the courts of their princes by warlike exercises, or +what resemble them; but to greater advantage than all these does a +knight-errant show when he traverses deserts, solitudes, cross-roads, +forests, and mountains, in quest of perilous adventures, bent on bringing +them to a happy and successful issue, all to win a glorious and lasting +renown. To greater advantage, I maintain, does the knight-errant show +bringing aid to some widow in some lonely waste, than the court knight +dallying with some city damsel. All knights have their own special parts +to play; let the courtier devote himself to the ladies, let him add +lustre to his sovereign's court by his liveries, let him entertain poor +gentlemen with the sumptuous fare of his table, let him arrange +joustings, marshal tournaments, and prove himself noble, generous, and +magnificent, and above all a good Christian, and so doing he will fulfil +the duties that are especially his; but let the knight-errant explore the +corners of the earth and penetrate the most intricate labyrinths, at each +step let him attempt impossibilities, on desolate heaths let him endure +the burning rays of the midsummer sun, and the bitter inclemency of the +winter winds and frosts; let no lions daunt him, no monsters terrify him, +no dragons make him quail; for to seek these, to attack those, and to +vanquish all, are in truth his main duties. I, then, as it has fallen to +my lot to be a member of knight-errantry, cannot avoid attempting all +that to me seems to come within the sphere of my duties; thus it was my +bounden duty to attack those lions that I just now attacked, although I +knew it to be the height of rashness; for I know well what valour is, +that it is a virtue that occupies a place between two vicious extremes, +cowardice and temerity; but it will be a lesser evil for him who is +valiant to rise till he reaches the point of rashness, than to sink until +he reaches the point of cowardice; for, as it is easier for the prodigal +than for the miser to become generous, so it is easier for a rash man to +prove truly valiant than for a coward to rise to true valour; and believe +me, Senor Don Diego, in attempting adventures it is better to lose by a +card too many than by a card too few; for to hear it said, 'such a knight +is rash and daring,' sounds better than 'such a knight is timid and +cowardly.'" + +"I protest, Senor Don Quixote," said Don Diego, "everything you have said +and done is proved correct by the test of reason itself; and I believe, +if the laws and ordinances of knight-errantry should be lost, they might +be found in your worship's breast as in their own proper depository and +muniment-house; but let us make haste, and reach my village, where you +shall take rest after your late exertions; for if they have not been of +the body they have been of the spirit, and these sometimes tend to +produce bodily fatigue." + +"I take the invitation as a great favour and honour, Senor Don Diego," +replied Don Quixote; and pressing forward at a better pace than before, +at about two in the afternoon they reached the village and house of Don +Diego, or, as Don Quixote called him, "The Knight of the Green Gaban." + +Chapter XVIII. - +Of what happened Don Quixote in the castle or house of the Knight of the +Green Gaban, together with other matters out of the common + +Don Quixote found Don Diego de Miranda's house built in village style, +with his arms in rough stone over the street door; in the patio was the +store-room, and at the entrance the cellar, with plenty of wine-jars +standing round, which, coming from El Toboso, brought back to his memory +his enchanted and transformed Dulcinea; and with a sigh, and not thinking +of what he was saying, or in whose presence he was, he exclaimed-- + +poem{ + + "O ye sweet treasures, to my sorrow found! + Once sweet and welcome when 'twas heaven's good-will. + + "O ye Tobosan jars, how ye bring back to my memory the + sweet object of my bitter regrets!" + +}poem + +The student poet, Don Diego's son, who had come out with his mother to +receive him, heard this exclamation, and both mother and son were filled +with amazement at the extraordinary figure he presented; he, however, +dismounting from Rocinante, advanced with great politeness to ask +permission to kiss the lady's hand, while Don Diego said, "Senora, pray +receive with your wonted kindness Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha, whom +you see before you, a knight-errant, and the bravest and wisest in the +world." + +The lady, whose name was Dona Christina, received him with every sign of +good-will and great courtesy, and Don Quixote placed himself at her +service with an abundance of well-chosen and polished phrases. Almost the +same civilities were exchanged between him and the student, who listening +to Don Quixote, took him to be a sensible, clear-headed person. + +Here the author describes minutely everything belonging to Don Diego's +mansion, putting before us in his picture the whole contents of a rich +gentleman-farmer's house; but the translator of the history thought it +best to pass over these and other details of the same sort in silence, as +they are not in harmony with the main purpose of the story, the strong +point of which is truth rather than dull digressions. + +They led Don Quixote into a room, and Sancho removed his armour, leaving +him in loose Walloon breeches and chamois-leather doublet, all stained +with the rust of his armour; his collar was a falling one of scholastic +cut, without starch or lace, his buskins buff-coloured, and his shoes +polished. He wore his good sword, which hung in a baldric of sea-wolf's +skin, for he had suffered for many years, they say, from an ailment of +the kidneys; and over all he threw a long cloak of good grey cloth. But +first of all, with five or six buckets of water (for as regard the number +of buckets there is some dispute), he washed his head and face, and still +the water remained whey-coloured, thanks to Sancho's greediness and +purchase of those unlucky curds that turned his master so white. Thus +arrayed, and with an easy, sprightly, and gallant air, Don Quixote passed +out into another room, where the student was waiting to entertain him +while the table was being laid; for on the arrival of so distinguished a +guest, Dona Christina was anxious to show that she knew how and was able +to give a becoming reception to those who came to her house. + +While Don Quixote was taking off his armour, Don Lorenzo (for so Don +Diego's son was called) took the opportunity to say to his father, "What +are we to make of this gentleman you have brought home to us, sir? For +his name, his appearance, and your describing him as a knight-errant have +completely puzzled my mother and me." + +"I don't know what to say, my son," replied. Don Diego; "all I can tell +thee is that I have seen him act the acts of the greatest madman in the +world, and heard him make observations so sensible that they efface and +undo all he does; do thou talk to him and feel the pulse of his wits, and +as thou art shrewd, form the most reasonable conclusion thou canst as to +his wisdom or folly; though, to tell the truth, I am more inclined to +take him to be mad than sane." + +With this Don Lorenzo went away to entertain Don Quixote as has been +said, and in the course of the conversation that passed between them Don +Quixote said to Don Lorenzo, "Your father, Senor Don Diego de Miranda, +has told me of the rare abilities and subtle intellect you possess, and, +above all, that you are a great poet." + +"A poet, it may be," replied Don Lorenzo, "but a great one, by no means. +It is true that I am somewhat given to poetry and to reading good poets, +but not so much so as to justify the title of 'great' which my father +gives me." + +"I do not dislike that modesty," said Don Quixote; "for there is no poet +who is not conceited and does not think he is the best poet in the +world." + +"There is no rule without an exception," said Don Lorenzo; "there may be +some who are poets and yet do not think they are." + +"Very few," said Don Quixote; "but tell me, what verses are those which +you have now in hand, and which your father tells me keep you somewhat +restless and absorbed? If it be some gloss, I know something about +glosses, and I should like to hear them; and if they are for a poetical +tournament, contrive to carry off the second prize; for the first always +goes by favour or personal standing, the second by simple justice; and so +the third comes to be the second, and the first, reckoning in this way, +will be third, in the same way as licentiate degrees are conferred at the +universities; but, for all that, the title of first is a great +distinction." + +"So far," said Don Lorenzo to himself, "I should not take you to be a +madman; but let us go on." So he said to him, "Your worship has +apparently attended the schools; what sciences have you studied?" + +"That of knight-errantry," said Don Quixote, "which is as good as that of +poetry, and even a finger or two above it." + +"I do not know what science that is," said Don Lorenzo, "and until now I +have never heard of it." + +"It is a science," said Don Quixote, "that comprehends in itself all or +most of the sciences in the world, for he who professes it must be a +jurist, and must know the rules of justice, distributive and equitable, +so as to give to each one what belongs to him and is due to him. He must +be a theologian, so as to be able to give a clear and distinctive reason +for the Christian faith he professes, wherever it may be asked of him. He +must be a physician, and above all a herbalist, so as in wastes and +solitudes to know the herbs that have the property of healing wounds, for +a knight-errant must not go looking for some one to cure him at every +step. He must be an astronomer, so as to know by the stars how many hours +of the night have passed, and what clime and quarter of the world he is +in. He must know mathematics, for at every turn some occasion for them +will present itself to him; and, putting it aside that he must be adorned +with all the virtues, cardinal and theological, to come down to minor +particulars, he must, I say, be able to swim as well as Nicholas or +Nicolao the Fish could, as the story goes; he must know how to shoe a +horse, and repair his saddle and bridle; and, to return to higher +matters, he must be faithful to God and to his lady; he must be pure in +thought, decorous in words, generous in works, valiant in deeds, patient +in suffering, compassionate towards the needy, and, lastly, an upholder +of the truth though its defence should cost him his life. Of all these +qualities, great and small, is a true knight-errant made up; judge then, +Senor Don Lorenzo, whether it be a contemptible science which the knight +who studies and professes it has to learn, and whether it may not compare +with the very loftiest that are taught in the schools." + +"If that be so," replied Don Lorenzo, "this science, I protest, surpasses +all." + +"How, if that be so?" said Don Quixote. + +"What I mean to say," said Don Lorenzo, "is, that I doubt whether there +are now, or ever were, any knights-errant, and adorned with such +virtues." + +"Many a time," replied Don Quixote, "have I said what I now say once +more, that the majority of the world are of opinion that there never were +any knights-errant in it; and as it is my opinion that, unless heaven by +some miracle brings home to them the truth that there were and are, all +the pains one takes will be in vain (as experience has often proved to +me), I will not now stop to disabuse you of the error you share with the +multitude. All I shall do is to pray to heaven to deliver you from it, +and show you how beneficial and necessary knights-errant were in days of +yore, and how useful they would be in these days were they but in vogue; +but now, for the sins of the people, sloth and indolence, gluttony and +luxury are triumphant." + +"Our guest has broken out on our hands," said Don Lorenzo to himself at +this point; "but, for all that, he is a glorious madman, and I should be +a dull blockhead to doubt it." + +Here, being summoned to dinner, they brought their colloquy to a close. +Don Diego asked his son what he had been able to make out as to the wits +of their guest. To which he replied, "All the doctors and clever scribes +in the world will not make sense of the scrawl of his madness; he is a +madman full of streaks, full of lucid intervals." + +They went in to dinner, and the repast was such as Don Diego said on the +road he was in the habit of giving to his guests, neat, plentiful, and +tasty; but what pleased Don Quixote most was the marvellous silence that +reigned throughout the house, for it was like a Carthusian monastery. + +When the cloth had been removed, grace said and their hands washed, Don +Quixote earnestly pressed Don Lorenzo to repeat to him his verses for the +poetical tournament, to which he replied, "Not to be like those poets +who, when they are asked to recite their verses, refuse, and when they +are not asked for them vomit them up, I will repeat my gloss, for which I +do not expect any prize, having composed it merely as an exercise of +ingenuity." + +"A discerning friend of mine," said Don Quixote, "was of opinion that no +one ought to waste labour in glossing verses; and the reason he gave was +that the gloss can never come up to the text, and that often or most +frequently it wanders away from the meaning and purpose aimed at in the +glossed lines; and besides, that the laws of the gloss were too strict, +as they did not allow interrogations, nor 'said he,' nor 'I say,' nor +turning verbs into nouns, or altering the construction, not to speak of +other restrictions and limitations that fetter gloss-writers, as you no +doubt know." + +"Verily, Senor Don Quixote," said Don Lorenzo, "I wish I could catch your +worship tripping at a stretch, but I cannot, for you slip through my +fingers like an eel." + +"I don't understand what you say, or mean by slipping," said Don Quixote. + +"I will explain myself another time," said Don Lorenzo; "for the present +pray attend to the glossed verses and the gloss, which run thus: + +poem{ + +Could 'was' become an 'is' for me, +Then would I ask no more than this; +Or could, for me, the time that is +Become the time that is to be!-- + +GLOSS + +Dame Fortune once upon a day + To me was bountiful and kind; + But all things change; she changed her mind, +And what she gave she took away. +O Fortune, long I've sued to thee; + The gifts thou gavest me restore, + For, trust me, I would ask no more, +Could 'was' become an 'is' for me. + +No other prize I seek to gain, + No triumph, glory, or success, + Only the long-lost happiness, +The memory whereof is pain. +One taste, methinks, of bygone bliss + The heart-consuming fire might stay; + And, so it come without delay, +Then would I ask no more than this. + +I ask what cannot be, alas! + That time should ever be, and then + Come back to us, and be again, +No power on earth can bring to pass; +For fleet of foot is he, I wis, + And idly, therefore, do we pray + That what for aye hath left us may +Become for us the time that is. + +Perplexed, uncertain, to remain + 'Twixt hope and fear, is death, not life; + 'Twere better, sure, to end the strife, +And dying, seek release from pain. +And yet, thought were the best for me. + Anon the thought aside I fling, + And to the present fondly cling, +And dread the time that is to be." + +}poem + +When Don Lorenzo had finished reciting his gloss, Don Quixote stood up, +and in a loud voice, almost a shout, exclaimed as he grasped Don +Lorenzo's right hand in his, "By the highest heavens, noble youth, but +you are the best poet on earth, and deserve to be crowned with laurel, +not by Cyprus or by Gaeta--as a certain poet, God forgive him, said--but +by the Academies of Athens, if they still flourished, and by those that +flourish now, Paris, Bologna, Salamanca. Heaven grant that the judges who +rob you of the first prize--that Phoebus may pierce them with his arrows, +and the Muses never cross the thresholds of their doors. Repeat me some +of your long-measure verses, senor, if you will be so good, for I want +thoroughly to feel the pulse of your rare genius." + +Is there any need to say that Don Lorenzo enjoyed hearing himself praised +by Don Quixote, albeit he looked upon him as a madman? power of flattery, +how far-reaching art thou, and how wide are the bounds of thy pleasant +jurisdiction! Don Lorenzo gave a proof of it, for he complied with Don +Quixote's request and entreaty, and repeated to him this sonnet on the +fable or story of Pyramus and Thisbe. + +poem{ + +SONNET + +The lovely maid, she pierces now the wall; + Heart-pierced by her young Pyramus doth lie; + And Love spreads wing from Cyprus isle to fly, +A chink to view so wondrous great and small. +There silence speaketh, for no voice at all + Can pass so strait a strait; but love will ply + Where to all other power 'twere vain to try; +For love will find a way whate'er befall. +Impatient of delay, with reckless pace + The rash maid wins the fatal spot where she +Sinks not in lover's arms but death's embrace. + So runs the strange tale, how the lovers twain +One sword, one sepulchre, one memory, + Slays, and entombs, and brings to life again. + +}poem + +"Blessed be God," said Don Quixote when he had heard Don Lorenzo's +sonnet, "that among the hosts there are of irritable poets I have found +one consummate one, which, senor, the art of this sonnet proves to me +that you are!" + +For four days was Don Quixote most sumptuously entertained in Don Diego's +house, at the end of which time he asked his permission to depart, +telling him he thanked him for the kindness and hospitality he had +received in his house, but that, as it did not become knights-errant to +give themselves up for long to idleness and luxury, he was anxious to +fulfill the duties of his calling in seeking adventures, of which he was +informed there was an abundance in that neighbourhood, where he hoped to +employ his time until the day came round for the jousts at Saragossa, for +that was his proper destination; and that, first of all, he meant to +enter the cave of Montesinos, of which so many marvellous things were +reported all through the country, and at the same time to investigate and +explore the origin and true source of the seven lakes commonly called the +lakes of Ruidera. + +Don Diego and his son commended his laudable resolution, and bade him +furnish himself with all he wanted from their house and belongings, as +they would most gladly be of service to him; which, indeed, his personal +worth and his honourable profession made incumbent upon them. + +The day of his departure came at length, as welcome to Don Quixote as it +was sad and sorrowful to Sancho Panza, who was very well satisfied with +the abundance of Don Diego's house, and objected to return to the +starvation of the woods and wilds and the short-commons of his +ill-stocked alforjas; these, however, he filled and packed with what he +considered needful. On taking leave, Don Quixote said to Don Lorenzo, "I +know not whether I have told you already, but if I have I tell you once +more, that if you wish to spare yourself fatigue and toil in reaching the +inaccessible summit of the temple of fame, you have nothing to do but to +turn aside out of the somewhat narrow path of poetry and take the still +narrower one of knight-errantry, wide enough, however, to make you an +emperor in the twinkling of an eye." + +In this speech Don Quixote wound up the evidence of his madness, but +still better in what he added when he said, "God knows, I would gladly +take Don Lorenzo with me to teach him how to spare the humble, and +trample the proud under foot, virtues that are part and parcel of the +profession I belong to; but since his tender age does not allow of it, +nor his praiseworthy pursuits permit it, I will simply content myself +with impressing it upon your worship that you will become famous as a +poet if you are guided by the opinion of others rather than by your own; +because no fathers or mothers ever think their own children ill-favoured, +and this sort of deception prevails still more strongly in the case of +the children of the brain." + +Both father and son were amazed afresh at the strange medley Don Quixote +talked, at one moment sense, at another nonsense, and at the pertinacity +and persistence he displayed in going through thick and thin in quest of +his unlucky adventures, which he made the end and aim of his desires. +There was a renewal of offers of service and civilities, and then, with +the gracious permission of the lady of the castle, they took their +departure, Don Quixote on Rocinante, and Sancho on Dapple. + +Chapter XIX. - +In which is related the adventure of the enamoured shepherd, together +with other truly droll incidents + +Don Quixote had gone but a short distance beyond Don Diego's village, +when he fell in with a couple of either priests or students, and a couple +of peasants, mounted on four beasts of the ass kind. One of the students +carried, wrapped up in a piece of green buckram by way of a portmanteau, +what seemed to be a little linen and a couple of pairs of-ribbed +stockings; the other carried nothing but a pair of new fencing-foils with +buttons. The peasants carried divers articles that showed they were on +their way from some large town where they had bought them, and were +taking them home to their village; and both students and peasants were +struck with the same amazement that everybody felt who saw Don Quixote +for the first time, and were dying to know who this man, so different +from ordinary men, could be. Don Quixote saluted them, and after +ascertaining that their road was the same as his, made them an offer of +his company, and begged them to slacken their pace, as their young asses +travelled faster than his horse; and then, to gratify them, he told them +in a few words who he was and the calling and profession he followed, +which was that of a knight-errant seeking adventures in all parts of the +world. He informed them that his own name was Don Quixote of La Mancha, +and that he was called, by way of surname, the Knight of the Lions. + +All this was Greek or gibberish to the peasants, but not so to the +students, who very soon perceived the crack in Don Quixote's pate; for +all that, however, they regarded him with admiration and respect, and one +of them said to him, "If you, sir knight, have no fixed road, as it is +the way with those who seek adventures not to have any, let your worship +come with us; you will see one of the finest and richest weddings that up +to this day have ever been celebrated in La Mancha, or for many a league +round." + +Don Quixote asked him if it was some prince's, that he spoke of it in +this way. "Not at all," said the student; "it is the wedding of a farmer +and a farmer's daughter, he the richest in all this country, and she the +fairest mortal ever set eyes on. The display with which it is to be +attended will be something rare and out of the common, for it will be +celebrated in a meadow adjoining the town of the bride, who is called, +par excellence, Quiteria the fair, as the bridegroom is called Camacho +the rich. She is eighteen, and he twenty-two, and they are fairly +matched, though some knowing ones, who have all the pedigrees in the +world by heart, will have it that the family of the fair Quiteria is +better than Camacho's; but no one minds that now-a-days, for wealth can +solder a great many flaws. At any rate, Camacho is free-handed, and it is +his fancy to screen the whole meadow with boughs and cover it in +overhead, so that the sun will have hard work if he tries to get in to +reach the grass that covers the soil. He has provided dancers too, not +only sword but also bell-dancers, for in his own town there are those who +ring the changes and jingle the bells to perfection; of shoe-dancers I +say nothing, for of them he has engaged a host. But none of these things, +nor of the many others I have omitted to mention, will do more to make +this a memorable wedding than the part which I suspect the despairing +Basilio will play in it. This Basilio is a youth of the same village as +Quiteria, and he lived in the house next door to that of her parents, of +which circumstance Love took advantage to reproduce to the word the +long-forgotten loves of Pyramus and Thisbe; for Basilio loved Quiteria +from his earliest years, and she responded to his passion with countless +modest proofs of affection, so that the loves of the two children, +Basilio and Quiteria, were the talk and the amusement of the town. As +they grew up, the father of Quiteria made up his mind to refuse Basilio +his wonted freedom of access to the house, and to relieve himself of +constant doubts and suspicions, he arranged a match for his daughter with +the rich Camacho, as he did not approve of marrying her to Basilio, who +had not so large a share of the gifts of fortune as of nature; for if the +truth be told ungrudgingly, he is the most agile youth we know, a mighty +thrower of the bar, a first-rate wrestler, and a great ball-player; he +runs like a deer, and leaps better than a goat, bowls over the nine-pins +as if by magic, sings like a lark, plays the guitar so as to make it +speak, and, above all, handles a sword as well as the best." + +"For that excellence alone," said Don Quixote at this, "the youth +deserves to marry, not merely the fair Quiteria, but Queen Guinevere +herself, were she alive now, in spite of Launcelot and all who would try +to prevent it." + +"Say that to my wife," said Sancho, who had until now listened in +silence, "for she won't hear of anything but each one marrying his equal, +holding with the proverb 'each ewe to her like.' What I would like is +that this good Basilio (for I am beginning to take a fancy to him +already) should marry this lady Quiteria; and a blessing and good luck--I +meant to say the opposite--on people who would prevent those who love one +another from marrying." + +"If all those who love one another were to marry," said Don Quixote, "it +would deprive parents of the right to choose, and marry their children to +the proper person and at the proper time; and if it was left to daughters +to choose husbands as they pleased, one would be for choosing her +father's servant, and another, some one she has seen passing in the +street and fancies gallant and dashing, though he may be a drunken bully; +for love and fancy easily blind the eyes of the judgment, so much wanted +in choosing one's way of life; and the matrimonial choice is very liable +to error, and it needs great caution and the special favour of heaven to +make it a good one. He who has to make a long journey, will, if he is +wise, look out for some trusty and pleasant companion to accompany him +before he sets out. Why, then, should not he do the same who has to make +the whole journey of life down to the final halting-place of death, more +especially when the companion has to be his companion in bed, at board, +and everywhere, as the wife is to her husband? The companionship of one's +wife is no article of merchandise, that, after it has been bought, may be +returned, or bartered, or changed; for it is an inseparable accident that +lasts as long as life lasts; it is a noose that, once you put it round +your neck, turns into a Gordian knot, which, if the scythe of Death does +not cut it, there is no untying. I could say a great deal more on this +subject, were I not prevented by the anxiety I feel to know if the senor +licentiate has anything more to tell about the story of Basilio." + +To this the student, bachelor, or, as Don Quixote called him, licentiate, +replied, "I have nothing whatever to say further, but that from the +moment Basilio learned that the fair Quiteria was to be married to +Camacho the rich, he has never been seen to smile, or heard to utter +rational word, and he always goes about moody and dejected, talking to +himself in a way that shows plainly he is out of his senses. He eats +little and sleeps little, and all he eats is fruit, and when he sleeps, +if he sleeps at all, it is in the field on the hard earth like a brute +beast. Sometimes he gazes at the sky, at other times he fixes his eyes on +the earth in such an abstracted way that he might be taken for a clothed +statue, with its drapery stirred by the wind. In short, he shows such +signs of a heart crushed by suffering, that all we who know him believe +that when to-morrow the fair Quiteria says 'yes,' it will be his sentence +of death." + +"God will guide it better," said Sancho, "for God who gives the wound +gives the salve; nobody knows what will happen; there are a good many +hours between this and to-morrow, and any one of them, or any moment, the +house may fall; I have seen the rain coming down and the sun shining all +at one time; many a one goes to bed in good health who can't stir the +next day. And tell me, is there anyone who can boast of having driven a +nail into the wheel of fortune? No, faith; and between a woman's 'yes' +and 'no' I wouldn't venture to put the point of a pin, for there would +not be room for it; if you tell me Quiteria loves Basilio heart and soul, +then I'll give him a bag of good luck; for love, I have heard say, looks +through spectacles that make copper seem gold, poverty wealth, and blear +eyes pearls." + +"What art thou driving at, Sancho? curses on thee!" said Don Quixote; +"for when thou takest to stringing proverbs and sayings together, no one +can understand thee but Judas himself, and I wish he had thee. Tell me, +thou animal, what dost thou know about nails or wheels, or anything +else?" + +"Oh, if you don't understand me," replied Sancho, "it is no wonder my +words are taken for nonsense; but no matter; I understand myself, and I +know I have not said anything very foolish in what I have said; only your +worship, senor, is always gravelling at everything I say, nay, everything +I do." + +"Cavilling, not gravelling," said Don Quixote, "thou prevaricator of +honest language, God confound thee!" + +"Don't find fault with me, your worship," returned Sancho, "for you know +I have not been bred up at court or trained at Salamanca, to know whether +I am adding or dropping a letter or so in my words. Why! God bless me, +it's not fair to force a Sayago-man to speak like a Toledan; maybe there +are Toledans who do not hit it off when it comes to polished talk." + +"That is true," said the licentiate, "for those who have been bred up in +the Tanneries and the Zocodover cannot talk like those who are almost all +day pacing the cathedral cloisters, and yet they are all Toledans. Pure, +correct, elegant and lucid language will be met with in men of courtly +breeding and discrimination, though they may have been born in +Majalahonda; I say of discrimination, because there are many who are not +so, and discrimination is the grammar of good language, if it be +accompanied by practice. I, sirs, for my sins have studied canon law at +Salamanca, and I rather pique myself on expressing my meaning in clear, +plain, and intelligible language." + +"If you did not pique yourself more on your dexterity with those foils +you carry than on dexterity of tongue," said the other student, "you +would have been head of the degrees, where you are now tail." + +"Look here, bachelor Corchuelo," returned the licentiate, "you have the +most mistaken idea in the world about skill with the sword, if you think +it useless." + +"It is no idea on my part, but an established truth," replied Corchuelo; +"and if you wish me to prove it to you by experiment, you have swords +there, and it is a good opportunity; I have a steady hand and a strong +arm, and these joined with my resolution, which is not small, will make +you confess that I am not mistaken. Dismount and put in practice your +positions and circles and angles and science, for I hope to make you see +stars at noonday with my rude raw swordsmanship, in which, next to God, I +place my trust that the man is yet to be born who will make me turn my +back, and that there is not one in the world I will not compel to give +ground." + +"As to whether you turn your back or not, I do not concern myself," +replied the master of fence; "though it might be that your grave would be +dug on the spot where you planted your foot the first time; I mean that +you would be stretched dead there for despising skill with the sword." + +"We shall soon see," replied Corchuelo, and getting off his ass briskly, +he drew out furiously one of the swords the licentiate carried on his +beast. + +"It must not be that way," said Don Quixote at this point; "I will be the +director of this fencing match, and judge of this often disputed +question;" and dismounting from Rocinante and grasping his lance, he +planted himself in the middle of the road, just as the licentiate, with +an easy, graceful bearing and step, advanced towards Corchuelo, who came +on against him, darting fire from his eyes, as the saying is. The other +two of the company, the peasants, without dismounting from their asses, +served as spectators of the mortal tragedy. The cuts, thrusts, down +strokes, back strokes and doubles, that Corchuelo delivered were past +counting, and came thicker than hops or hail. He attacked like an angry +lion, but he was met by a tap on the mouth from the button of the +licentiate's sword that checked him in the midst of his furious onset, +and made him kiss it as if it were a relic, though not as devoutly as +relics are and ought to be kissed. The end of it was that the licentiate +reckoned up for him by thrusts every one of the buttons of the short +cassock he wore, tore the skirts into strips, like the tails of a +cuttlefish, knocked off his hat twice, and so completely tired him out, +that in vexation, anger, and rage, he took the sword by the hilt and +flung it away with such force, that one of the peasants that were there, +who was a notary, and who went for it, made an affidavit afterwards that +he sent it nearly three-quarters of a league, which testimony will serve, +and has served, to show and establish with all certainty that strength is +overcome by skill. + +Corchuelo sat down wearied, and Sancho approaching him said, "By my +faith, senor bachelor, if your worship takes my advice, you will never +challenge anyone to fence again, only to wrestle and throw the bar, for +you have the youth and strength for that; but as for these fencers as +they call them, I have heard say they can put the point of a sword +through the eye of a needle." + +"I am satisfied with having tumbled off my donkey," said Corchuelo, "and +with having had the truth I was so ignorant of proved to me by +experience;" and getting up he embraced the licentiate, and they were +better friends than ever; and not caring to wait for the notary who had +gone for the sword, as they saw he would be a long time about it, they +resolved to push on so as to reach the village of Quiteria, to which they +all belonged, in good time. + +During the remainder of the journey the licentiate held forth to them on +the excellences of the sword, with such conclusive arguments, and such +figures and mathematical proofs, that all were convinced of the value of +the science, and Corchuelo cured of his dogmatism. + +It grew dark; but before they reached the town it seemed to them all as +if there was a heaven full of countless glittering stars in front of it. +They heard, too, the pleasant mingled notes of a variety of instruments, +flutes, drums, psalteries, pipes, tabors, and timbrels, and as they drew +near they perceived that the trees of a leafy arcade that had been +constructed at the entrance of the town were filled with lights +unaffected by the wind, for the breeze at the time was so gentle that it +had not power to stir the leaves on the trees. The musicians were the +life of the wedding, wandering through the pleasant grounds in separate +bands, some dancing, others singing, others playing the various +instruments already mentioned. In short, it seemed as though mirth and +gaiety were frisking and gambolling all over the meadow. Several other +persons were engaged in erecting raised benches from which people might +conveniently see the plays and dances that were to be performed the next +day on the spot dedicated to the celebration of the marriage of Camacho +the rich and the obsequies of Basilio. Don Quixote would not enter the +village, although the peasant as well as the bachelor pressed him; he +excused himself, however, on the grounds, amply sufficient in his +opinion, that it was the custom of knights-errant to sleep in the fields +and woods in preference to towns, even were it under gilded ceilings; and +so turned aside a little out of the road, very much against Sancho's +will, as the good quarters he had enjoyed in the castle or house of Don +Diego came back to his mind. + +Chapter XX. - +Wherein an account is given of the wedding of Camacho the rich, together +with the incident of Basilio the poor + +Scarce had the fair Aurora given bright Phoebus time to dry the liquid +pearls upon her golden locks with the heat of his fervent rays, when Don +Quixote, shaking off sloth from his limbs, sprang to his feet and called +to his squire Sancho, who was still snoring; seeing which Don Quixote ere +he roused him thus addressed him: "Happy thou, above all the dwellers on +the face of the earth, that, without envying or being envied, sleepest +with tranquil mind, and that neither enchanters persecute nor +enchantments affright. Sleep, I say, and will say a hundred times, +without any jealous thoughts of thy mistress to make thee keep ceaseless +vigils, or any cares as to how thou art to pay the debts thou owest, or +find to-morrow's food for thyself and thy needy little family, to +interfere with thy repose. Ambition breaks not thy rest, nor doth this +world's empty pomp disturb thee, for the utmost reach of thy anxiety is +to provide for thy ass, since upon my shoulders thou hast laid the +support of thyself, the counterpoise and burden that nature and custom +have imposed upon masters. The servant sleeps and the master lies awake +thinking how he is to feed him, advance him, and reward him. The distress +of seeing the sky turn brazen, and withhold its needful moisture from the +earth, is not felt by the servant but by the master, who in time of +scarcity and famine must support him who has served him in times of +plenty and abundance." + +To all this Sancho made no reply because he was asleep, nor would he have +wakened up so soon as he did had not Don Quixote brought him to his +senses with the butt of his lance. He awoke at last, drowsy and lazy, and +casting his eyes about in every direction, observed, "There comes, if I +don't mistake, from the quarter of that arcade a steam and a smell a +great deal more like fried rashers than galingale or thyme; a wedding +that begins with smells like that, by my faith, ought to be plentiful and +unstinting." + +"Have done, thou glutton," said Don Quixote; "come, let us go and witness +this bridal, and see what the rejected Basilio does." + +"Let him do what he likes," returned Sancho; "be he not poor, he would +marry Quiteria. To make a grand match for himself, and he without a +farthing; is there nothing else? Faith, senor, it's my opinion the poor +man should be content with what he can get, and not go looking for +dainties in the bottom of the sea. I will bet my arm that Camacho could +bury Basilio in reals; and if that be so, as no doubt it is, what a fool +Quiteria would be to refuse the fine dresses and jewels Camacho must have +given her and will give her, and take Basilio's bar-throwing and +sword-play. They won't give a pint of wine at the tavern for a good cast +of the bar or a neat thrust of the sword. Talents and accomplishments +that can't be turned into money, let Count Dirlos have them; but when +such gifts fall to one that has hard cash, I wish my condition of life +was as becoming as they are. On a good foundation you can raise a good +building, and the best foundation in the world is money." + +"For God's sake, Sancho," said Don Quixote here, "stop that harangue; it +is my belief, if thou wert allowed to continue all thou beginnest every +instant, thou wouldst have no time left for eating or sleeping; for thou +wouldst spend it all in talking." + +"If your worship had a good memory," replied Sancho, "you would remember +the articles of our agreement before we started from home this last time; +one of them was that I was to be let say all I liked, so long as it was +not against my neighbour or your worship's authority; and so far, it +seems to me, I have not broken the said article." + +"I remember no such article, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "and even if it +were so, I desire you to hold your tongue and come along; for the +instruments we heard last night are already beginning to enliven the +valleys again, and no doubt the marriage will take place in the cool of +the morning, and not in the heat of the afternoon." + +Sancho did as his master bade him, and putting the saddle on Rocinante +and the pack-saddle on Dapple, they both mounted and at a leisurely pace +entered the arcade. The first thing that presented itself to Sancho's +eyes was a whole ox spitted on a whole elm tree, and in the fire at which +it was to be roasted there was burning a middling-sized mountain of +faggots, and six stewpots that stood round the blaze had not been made in +the ordinary mould of common pots, for they were six half wine-jars, each +fit to hold the contents of a slaughter-house; they swallowed up whole +sheep and hid them away in their insides without showing any more sign of +them than if they were pigeons. Countless were the hares ready skinned +and the plucked fowls that hung on the trees for burial in the pots, +numberless the wildfowl and game of various sorts suspended from the +branches that the air might keep them cool. Sancho counted more than +sixty wine skins of over six gallons each, and all filled, as it proved +afterwards, with generous wines. There were, besides, piles of the +whitest bread, like the heaps of corn one sees on the threshing-floors. +There was a wall made of cheeses arranged like open brick-work, and two +cauldrons full of oil, bigger than those of a dyer's shop, served for +cooking fritters, which when fried were taken out with two mighty +shovels, and plunged into another cauldron of prepared honey that stood +close by. Of cooks and cook-maids there were over fifty, all clean, +brisk, and blithe. In the capacious belly of the ox were a dozen soft +little sucking-pigs, which, sewn up there, served to give it tenderness +and flavour. The spices of different kinds did not seem to have been +bought by the pound but by the quarter, and all lay open to view in a +great chest. In short, all the preparations made for the wedding were in +rustic style, but abundant enough to feed an army. + +Sancho observed all, contemplated all, and everything won his heart. The +first to captivate and take his fancy were the pots, out of which he +would have very gladly helped himself to a moderate pipkinful; then the +wine skins secured his affections; and lastly, the produce of the +frying-pans, if, indeed, such imposing cauldrons may be called +frying-pans; and unable to control himself or bear it any longer, he +approached one of the busy cooks and civilly but hungrily begged +permission to soak a scrap of bread in one of the pots; to which the cook +made answer, "Brother, this is not a day on which hunger is to have any +sway, thanks to the rich Camacho; get down and look about for a ladle and +skim off a hen or two, and much good may they do you." + +"I don't see one," said Sancho. + +"Wait a bit," said the cook; "sinner that I am! how particular and +bashful you are!" and so saying, he seized a bucket and plunging it into +one of the half jars took up three hens and a couple of geese, and said +to Sancho, "Fall to, friend, and take the edge off your appetite with +these skimmings until dinner-time comes." + +"I have nothing to put them in," said Sancho. + +"Well then," said the cook, "take spoon and all; for Camacho's wealth and +happiness furnish everything." + +While Sancho fared thus, Don Quixote was watching the entrance, at one +end of the arcade, of some twelve peasants, all in holiday and gala +dress, mounted on twelve beautiful mares with rich handsome field +trappings and a number of little bells attached to their petrals, who, +marshalled in regular order, ran not one but several courses over the +meadow, with jubilant shouts and cries of "Long live Camacho and +Quiteria! he as rich as she is fair; and she the fairest on earth!" + +Hearing this, Don Quixote said to himself, "It is easy to see these folk +have never seen my Dulcinea del Toboso; for if they had they would be +more moderate in their praises of this Quiteria of theirs." + +Shortly after this, several bands of dancers of various sorts began to +enter the arcade at different points, and among them one of sword-dancers +composed of some four-and-twenty lads of gallant and high-spirited mien, +clad in the finest and whitest of linen, and with handkerchiefs +embroidered in various colours with fine silk; and one of those on the +mares asked an active youth who led them if any of the dancers had been +wounded. "As yet, thank God, no one has been wounded," said he, "we are +all safe and sound;" and he at once began to execute complicated figures +with the rest of his comrades, with so many turns and so great dexterity, +that although Don Quixote was well used to see dances of the same kind, +he thought he had never seen any so good as this. He also admired another +that came in composed of fair young maidens, none of whom seemed to be +under fourteen or over eighteen years of age, all clad in green stuff, +with their locks partly braided, partly flowing loose, but all of such +bright gold as to vie with the sunbeams, and over them they wore garlands +of jessamine, roses, amaranth, and honeysuckle. At their head were a +venerable old man and an ancient dame, more brisk and active, however, +than might have been expected from their years. The notes of a Zamora +bagpipe accompanied them, and with modesty in their countenances and in +their eyes, and lightness in their feet, they looked the best dancers in +the world. + +Following these there came an artistic dance of the sort they call +"speaking dances." It was composed of eight nymphs in two files, with the +god Cupid leading one and Interest the other, the former furnished with +wings, bow, quiver and arrows, the latter in a rich dress of gold and +silk of divers colours. The nymphs that followed Love bore their names +written on white parchment in large letters on their backs. "Poetry" was +the name of the first, "Wit" of the second, "Birth" of the third, and +"Valour" of the fourth. Those that followed Interest were distinguished +in the same way; the badge of the first announced "Liberality," that of +the second "Largess," the third "Treasure," and the fourth "Peaceful +Possession." In front of them all came a wooden castle drawn by four wild +men, all clad in ivy and hemp stained green, and looking so natural that +they nearly terrified Sancho. On the front of the castle and on each of +the four sides of its frame it bore the inscription "Castle of Caution." +Four skillful tabor and flute players accompanied them, and the dance +having been opened, Cupid, after executing two figures, raised his eyes +and bent his bow against a damsel who stood between the turrets of the +castle, and thus addressed her: + +poem{ + +I am the mighty God whose sway + Is potent over land and sea. +The heavens above us own me; nay, + The shades below acknowledge me. +I know not fear, I have my will, + Whate'er my whim or fancy be; +For me there's no impossible, + I order, bind, forbid, set free. + +}poem + +Having concluded the stanza he discharged an arrow at the top of the +castle, and went back to his place. Interest then came forward and went +through two more figures, and as soon as the tabors ceased, he said: + +poem{ + +But mightier than Love am I, + Though Love it be that leads me on, +Than mine no lineage is more high, + Or older, underneath the sun. +To use me rightly few know how, + To act without me fewer still, +For I am Interest, and I vow + For evermore to do thy will. + +}poem + +Interest retired, and Poetry came forward, and when she had gone through +her figures like the others, fixing her eyes on the damsel of the castle, +she said: + +poem{ + +With many a fanciful conceit, + Fair Lady, winsome Poesy +Her soul, an offering at thy feet, + Presents in sonnets unto thee. +If thou my homage wilt not scorn, + Thy fortune, watched by envious eyes, +On wings of poesy upborne + Shall be exalted to the skies. + +}poem + +Poetry withdrew, and on the side of Interest Liberality advanced, and +after having gone through her figures, said: + +poem{ + +To give, while shunning each extreme, + The sparing hand, the over-free, +Therein consists, so wise men deem, + The virtue Liberality. +But thee, fair lady, to enrich, + Myself a prodigal I'll prove, +A vice not wholly shameful, which + May find its fair excuse in love. + +}poem + +In the same manner all the characters of the two bands advanced and +retired, and each executed its figures, and delivered its verses, some of +them graceful, some burlesque, but Don Quixote's memory (though he had an +excellent one) only carried away those that have been just quoted. All +then mingled together, forming chains and breaking off again with +graceful, unconstrained gaiety; and whenever Love passed in front of the +castle he shot his arrows up at it, while Interest broke gilded pellets +against it. At length, after they had danced a good while, Interest drew +out a great purse, made of the skin of a large brindled cat and to all +appearance full of money, and flung it at the castle, and with the force +of the blow the boards fell asunder and tumbled down, leaving the damsel +exposed and unprotected. Interest and the characters of his band +advanced, and throwing a great chain of gold over her neck pretended to +take her and lead her away captive, on seeing which, Love and his +supporters made as though they would release her, the whole action being +to the accompaniment of the tabors and in the form of a regular dance. +The wild men made peace between them, and with great dexterity readjusted +and fixed the boards of the castle, and the damsel once more ensconced +herself within; and with this the dance wound up, to the great enjoyment +of the beholders. + +Don Quixote asked one of the nymphs who it was that had composed and +arranged it. She replied that it was a beneficiary of the town who had a +nice taste in devising things of the sort. "I will lay a wager," said Don +Quixote, "that the same bachelor or beneficiary is a greater friend of +Camacho's than of Basilio's, and that he is better at satire than at +vespers; he has introduced the accomplishments of Basilio and the riches +of Camacho very neatly into the dance." Sancho Panza, who was listening +to all this, exclaimed, "The king is my cock; I stick to Camacho." "It is +easy to see thou art a clown, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and one of that +sort that cry 'Long life to the conqueror.'" + +"I don't know of what sort I am," returned Sancho, "but I know very well +I'll never get such elegant skimmings off Basilio's pots as these I have +got off Camacho's;" and he showed him the bucketful of geese and hens, +and seizing one began to eat with great gaiety and appetite, saying, "A +fig for the accomplishments of Basilio! As much as thou hast so much art +thou worth, and as much as thou art worth so much hast thou. As a +grandmother of mine used to say, there are only two families in the +world, the Haves and the Haven'ts; and she stuck to the Haves; and to +this day, Senor Don Quixote, people would sooner feel the pulse of +'Have,' than of 'Know;' an ass covered with gold looks better than a +horse with a pack-saddle. So once more I say I stick to Camacho, the +bountiful skimmings of whose pots are geese and hens, hares and rabbits; +but of Basilio's, if any ever come to hand, or even to foot, they'll be +only rinsings." + +"Hast thou finished thy harangue, Sancho?" said Don Quixote. "Of course I +have finished it," replied Sancho, "because I see your worship takes +offence at it; but if it was not for that, there was work enough cut out +for three days." + +"God grant I may see thee dumb before I die, Sancho," said Don Quixote. + +"At the rate we are going," said Sancho, "I'll be chewing clay before +your worship dies; and then, maybe, I'll be so dumb that I'll not say a +word until the end of the world, or, at least, till the day of judgment." + +"Even should that happen, O Sancho," said Don Quixote, "thy silence will +never come up to all thou hast talked, art talking, and wilt talk all thy +life; moreover, it naturally stands to reason, that my death will come +before thine; so I never expect to see thee dumb, not even when thou art +drinking or sleeping, and that is the utmost I can say." + +"In good faith, senor," replied Sancho, "there's no trusting that +fleshless one, I mean Death, who devours the lamb as soon as the sheep, +and, as I have heard our curate say, treads with equal foot upon the +lofty towers of kings and the lowly huts of the poor. That lady is more +mighty than dainty, she is no way squeamish, she devours all and is ready +for all, and fills her alforjas with people of all sorts, ages, and +ranks. She is no reaper that sleeps out the noontide; at all times she is +reaping and cutting down, as well the dry grass as the green; she never +seems to chew, but bolts and swallows all that is put before her, for she +has a canine appetite that is never satisfied; and though she has no +belly, she shows she has a dropsy and is athirst to drink the lives of +all that live, as one would drink a jug of cold water." + +"Say no more, Sancho," said Don Quixote at this; "don't try to better it, +and risk a fall; for in truth what thou hast said about death in thy +rustic phrase is what a good preacher might have said. I tell thee, +Sancho, if thou hadst discretion equal to thy mother wit, thou mightst +take a pulpit in hand, and go about the world preaching fine sermons." +"He preaches well who lives well," said Sancho, "and I know no more +theology than that." + +"Nor needst thou," said Don Quixote, "but I cannot conceive or make out +how it is that, the fear of God being the beginning of wisdom, thou, who +art more afraid of a lizard than of him, knowest so much." + +"Pass judgment on your chivalries, senor," returned Sancho, "and don't +set yourself up to judge of other men's fears or braveries, for I am as +good a fearer of God as my neighbours; but leave me to despatch these +skimmings, for all the rest is only idle talk that we shall be called to +account for in the other world;" and so saying, he began a fresh attack +on the bucket, with such a hearty appetite that he aroused Don Quixote's, +who no doubt would have helped him had he not been prevented by what must +be told farther on. + +Chapter XXI. - +In which Camacho's wedding is continued, with other delightful incidents + +While Don Quixote and Sancho were engaged in the discussion set forth the +last chapter, they heard loud shouts and a great noise, which were +uttered and made by the men on the mares as they went at full gallop, +shouting, to receive the bride and bridegroom, who were approaching with +musical instruments and pageantry of all sorts around them, and +accompanied by the priest and the relatives of both, and all the most +distinguished people of the surrounding villages. When Sancho saw the +bride, he exclaimed, "By my faith, she is not dressed like a country +girl, but like some fine court lady; egad, as well as I can make out, the +patena she wears rich coral, and her green Cuenca stuff is thirty-pile +velvet; and then the white linen trimming--by my oath, but it's satin! +Look at her hands--jet rings on them! May I never have luck if they're +not gold rings, and real gold, and set with pearls as white as a curdled +milk, and every one of them worth an eye of one's head! Whoreson baggage, +what hair she has! if it's not a wig, I never saw longer or fairer all +the days of my life. See how bravely she bears herself--and her shape! +Wouldn't you say she was like a walking palm tree loaded with clusters of +dates? for the trinkets she has hanging from her hair and neck look just +like them. I swear in my heart she is a brave lass, and fit 'to pass over +the banks of Flanders.'" + +Don Quixote laughed at Sancho's boorish eulogies and thought that, saving +his lady Dulcinea del Toboso, he had never seen a more beautiful woman. +The fair Quiteria appeared somewhat pale, which was, no doubt, because of +the bad night brides always pass dressing themselves out for their +wedding on the morrow. They advanced towards a theatre that stood on one +side of the meadow decked with carpets and boughs, where they were to +plight their troth, and from which they were to behold the dances and +plays; but at the moment of their arrival at the spot they heard a loud +outcry behind them, and a voice exclaiming, "Wait a little, ye, as +inconsiderate as ye are hasty!" At these words all turned round, and +perceived that the speaker was a man clad in what seemed to be a loose +black coat garnished with crimson patches like flames. He was crowned (as +was presently seen) with a crown of gloomy cypress, and in his hand he +held a long staff. As he approached he was recognised by everyone as the +gay Basilio, and all waited anxiously to see what would come of his +words, in dread of some catastrophe in consequence of his appearance at +such a moment. He came up at last weary and breathless, and planting +himself in front of the bridal pair, drove his staff, which had a steel +spike at the end, into the ground, and, with a pale face and eyes fixed +on Quiteria, he thus addressed her in a hoarse, trembling voice: + +"Well dost thou know, ungrateful Quiteria, that according to the holy law +we acknowledge, so long as live thou canst take no husband; nor art thou +ignorant either that, in my hopes that time and my own exertions would +improve my fortunes, I have never failed to observe the respect due to +thy honour; but thou, casting behind thee all thou owest to my true love, +wouldst surrender what is mine to another whose wealth serves to bring +him not only good fortune but supreme happiness; and now to complete it +(not that I think he deserves it, but inasmuch as heaven is pleased to +bestow it upon him), I will, with my own hands, do away with the obstacle +that may interfere with it, and remove myself from between you. Long live +the rich Camacho! many a happy year may he live with the ungrateful +Quiteria! and let the poor Basilio die, Basilio whose poverty clipped the +wings of his happiness, and brought him to the grave!" + +And so saying, he seized the staff he had driven into the ground, and +leaving one half of it fixed there, showed it to be a sheath that +concealed a tolerably long rapier; and, what may be called its hilt being +planted in the ground, he swiftly, coolly, and deliberately threw himself +upon it, and in an instant the bloody point and half the steel blade +appeared at his back, the unhappy man falling to the earth bathed in his +blood, and transfixed by his own weapon. + +His friends at once ran to his aid, filled with grief at his misery and +sad fate, and Don Quixote, dismounting from Rocinante, hastened to +support him, and took him in his arms, and found he had not yet ceased to +breathe. They were about to draw out the rapier, but the priest who was +standing by objected to its being withdrawn before he had confessed him, +as the instant of its withdrawal would be that of this death. Basilio, +however, reviving slightly, said in a weak voice, as though in pain, "If +thou wouldst consent, cruel Quiteria, to give me thy hand as my bride in +this last fatal moment, I might still hope that my rashness would find +pardon, as by its means I attained the bliss of being thine." + +Hearing this the priest bade him think of the welfare of his soul rather +than of the cravings of the body, and in all earnestness implore God's +pardon for his sins and for his rash resolve; to which Basilio replied +that he was determined not to confess unless Quiteria first gave him her +hand in marriage, for that happiness would compose his mind and give him +courage to make his confession. + +Don Quixote hearing the wounded man's entreaty, exclaimed aloud that what +Basilio asked was just and reasonable, and moreover a request that might +be easily complied with; and that it would be as much to Senor Camacho's +honour to receive the lady Quiteria as the widow of the brave Basilio as +if he received her direct from her father. + +"In this case," said he, "it will be only to say 'yes,' and no +consequences can follow the utterance of the word, for the nuptial couch +of this marriage must be the grave." + +Camacho was listening to all this, perplexed and bewildered and not +knowing what to say or do; but so urgent were the entreaties of Basilio's +friends, imploring him to allow Quiteria to give him her hand, so that +his soul, quitting this life in despair, should not be lost, that they +moved, nay, forced him, to say that if Quiteria were willing to give it +he was satisfied, as it was only putting off the fulfillment of his +wishes for a moment. At once all assailed Quiteria and pressed her, some +with prayers, and others with tears, and others with persuasive +arguments, to give her hand to poor Basilio; but she, harder than marble +and more unmoved than any statue, seemed unable or unwilling to utter a +word, nor would she have given any reply had not the priest bade her +decide quickly what she meant to do, as Basilio now had his soul at his +teeth, and there was no time for hesitation. + +On this the fair Quiteria, to all appearance distressed, grieved, and +repentant, advanced without a word to where Basilio lay, his eyes already +turned in his head, his breathing short and painful, murmuring the name +of Quiteria between his teeth, and apparently about to die like a heathen +and not like a Christian. Quiteria approached him, and kneeling, demanded +his hand by signs without speaking. Basilio opened his eyes and gazing +fixedly at her, said, "O Quiteria, why hast thou turned compassionate at +a moment when thy compassion will serve as a dagger to rob me of life, +for I have not now the strength left either to bear the happiness thou +givest me in accepting me as thine, or to suppress the pain that is +rapidly drawing the dread shadow of death over my eyes? What I entreat of +thee, O thou fatal star to me, is that the hand thou demandest of me and +wouldst give me, be not given out of complaisance or to deceive me +afresh, but that thou confess and declare that without any constraint +upon thy will thou givest it to me as to thy lawful husband; for it is +not meet that thou shouldst trifle with me at such a moment as this, or +have recourse to falsehoods with one who has dealt so truly by thee." + +While uttering these words he showed such weakness that the bystanders +expected each return of faintness would take his life with it. Then +Quiteria, overcome with modesty and shame, holding in her right hand the +hand of Basilio, said, "No force would bend my will; as freely, +therefore, as it is possible for me to do so, I give thee the hand of a +lawful wife, and take thine if thou givest it to me of thine own free +will, untroubled and unaffected by the calamity thy hasty act has brought +upon thee." + +"Yes, I give it," said Basilio, "not agitated or distracted, but with +unclouded reason that heaven is pleased to grant me, thus do I give +myself to be thy husband." + +"And I give myself to be thy wife," said Quiteria, "whether thou livest +many years, or they carry thee from my arms to the grave." + +"For one so badly wounded," observed Sancho at this point, "this young +man has a great deal to say; they should make him leave off billing and +cooing, and attend to his soul; for to my thinking he has it more on his +tongue than at his teeth." + +Basilio and Quiteria having thus joined hands, the priest, deeply moved +and with tears in his eyes, pronounced the blessing upon them, and +implored heaven to grant an easy passage to the soul of the newly wedded +man, who, the instant he received the blessing, started nimbly to his +feet and with unparalleled effrontery pulled out the rapier that had been +sheathed in his body. All the bystanders were astounded, and some, more +simple than inquiring, began shouting, "A miracle, a miracle!" But +Basilio replied, "No miracle, no miracle; only a trick, a trick!" The +priest, perplexed and amazed, made haste to examine the wound with both +hands, and found that the blade had passed, not through Basilio's flesh +and ribs, but through a hollow iron tube full of blood, which he had +adroitly fixed at the place, the blood, as was afterwards ascertained, +having been so prepared as not to congeal. In short, the priest and +Camacho and most of those present saw they were tricked and made fools +of. The bride showed no signs of displeasure at the deception; on the +contrary, hearing them say that the marriage, being fraudulent, would not +be valid, she said that she confirmed it afresh, whence they all +concluded that the affair had been planned by agreement and understanding +between the pair, whereat Camacho and his supporters were so mortified +that they proceeded to revenge themselves by violence, and a great number +of them drawing their swords attacked Basilio, in whose protection as +many more swords were in an instant unsheathed, while Don Quixote taking +the lead on horseback, with his lance over his arm and well covered with +his shield, made all give way before him. Sancho, who never found any +pleasure or enjoyment in such doings, retreated to the wine-jars from +which he had taken his delectable skimmings, considering that, as a holy +place, that spot would be respected. + +"Hold, sirs, hold!" cried Don Quixote in a loud voice; "we have no right +to take vengeance for wrongs that love may do to us: remember love and +war are the same thing, and as in war it is allowable and common to make +use of wiles and stratagems to overcome the enemy, so in the contests and +rivalries of love the tricks and devices employed to attain the desired +end are justifiable, provided they be not to the discredit or dishonour +of the loved object. Quiteria belonged to Basilio and Basilio to Quiteria +by the just and beneficent disposal of heaven. Camacho is rich, and can +purchase his pleasure when, where, and as it pleases him. Basilio has but +this ewe-lamb, and no one, however powerful he may be, shall take her +from him; these two whom God hath joined man cannot separate; and he who +attempts it must first pass the point of this lance;" and so saying he +brandished it so stoutly and dexterously that he overawed all who did not +know him. + +But so deep an impression had the rejection of Quiteria made on Camacho's +mind that it banished her at once from his thoughts; and so the counsels +of the priest, who was a wise and kindly disposed man, prevailed with +him, and by their means he and his partisans were pacified and +tranquillised, and to prove it put up their swords again, inveighing +against the pliancy of Quiteria rather than the craftiness of Basilio; +Camacho maintaining that, if Quiteria as a maiden had such a love for +Basilio, she would have loved him too as a married woman, and that he +ought to thank heaven more for having taken her than for having given +her. + +Camacho and those of his following, therefore, being consoled and +pacified, those on Basilio's side were appeased; and the rich Camacho, to +show that he felt no resentment for the trick, and did not care about it, +desired the festival to go on just as if he were married in reality. +Neither Basilio, however, nor his bride, nor their followers would take +any part in it, and they withdrew to Basilio's village; for the poor, if +they are persons of virtue and good sense, have those who follow, honour, +and uphold them, just as the rich have those who flatter and dance +attendance on them. With them they carried Don Quixote, regarding him as +a man of worth and a stout one. Sancho alone had a cloud on his soul, for +he found himself debarred from waiting for Camacho's splendid feast and +festival, which lasted until night; and thus dragged away, he moodily +followed his master, who accompanied Basilio's party, and left behind him +the flesh-pots of Egypt; though in his heart he took them with him, and +their now nearly finished skimmings that he carried in the bucket +conjured up visions before his eyes of the glory and abundance of the +good cheer he was losing. And so, vexed and dejected though not hungry, +without dismounting from Dapple he followed in the footsteps of +Rocinante. + +Chapter XXII. - +Wherin is related the grand adventure of the cave of montesinos in the +heart of La Mancha, which the valiant Don Quixote brought to a happy +termination + +Many and great were the attentions shown to Don Quixote by the newly +married couple, who felt themselves under an obligation to him for coming +forward in defence of their cause; and they exalted his wisdom to the +same level with his courage, rating him as a Cid in arms, and a Cicero in +eloquence. Worthy Sancho enjoyed himself for three days at the expense of +the pair, from whom they learned that the sham wound was not a scheme +arranged with the fair Quiteria, but a device of Basilio's, who counted +on exactly the result they had seen; he confessed, it is true, that he +had confided his idea to some of his friends, so that at the proper time +they might aid him in his purpose and insure the success of the +deception. + +"That," said Don Quixote, "is not and ought not to be called deception +which aims at virtuous ends;" and the marriage of lovers he maintained to +be a most excellent end, reminding them, however, that love has no +greater enemy than hunger and constant want; for love is all gaiety, +enjoyment, and happiness, especially when the lover is in the possession +of the object of his love, and poverty and want are the declared enemies +of all these; which he said to urge Senor Basilio to abandon the practice +of those accomplishments he was skilled in, for though they brought him +fame, they brought him no money, and apply himself to the acquisition of +wealth by legitimate industry, which will never fail those who are +prudent and persevering. The poor man who is a man of honour (if indeed a +poor man can be a man of honour) has a jewel when he has a fair wife, and +if she is taken from him, his honour is taken from him and slain. The +fair woman who is a woman of honour, and whose husband is poor, deserves +to be crowned with the laurels and crowns of victory and triumph. Beauty +by itself attracts the desires of all who behold it, and the royal eagles +and birds of towering flight stoop on it as on a dainty lure; but if +beauty be accompanied by want and penury, then the ravens and the kites +and other birds of prey assail it, and she who stands firm against such +attacks well deserves to be called the crown of her husband. "Remember, O +prudent Basilio," added Don Quixote, "it was the opinion of a certain +sage, I know not whom, that there was not more than one good woman in the +whole world; and his advice was that each one should think and believe +that this one good woman was his own wife, and in this way he would live +happy. I myself am not married, nor, so far, has it ever entered my +thoughts to be so; nevertheless I would venture to give advice to anyone +who might ask it, as to the mode in which he should seek a wife such as +he would be content to marry. The first thing I would recommend him, +would be to look to good name rather than to wealth, for a good woman +does not win a good name merely by being good, but by letting it be seen +that she is so, and open looseness and freedom do much more damage to a +woman's honour than secret depravity. If you take a good woman into your +house it will be an easy matter to keep her good, and even to make her +still better; but if you take a bad one you will find it hard work to +mend her, for it is no very easy matter to pass from one extreme to +another. I do not say it is impossible, but I look upon it as difficult." + +Sancho, listening to all this, said to himself, "This master of mine, +when I say anything that has weight and substance, says I might take a +pulpit in hand, and go about the world preaching fine sermons; but I say +of him that, when he begins stringing maxims together and giving advice +not only might he take a pulpit in hand, but two on each finger, and go +into the market-places to his heart's content. Devil take you for a +knight-errant, what a lot of things you know! I used to think in my heart +that the only thing he knew was what belonged to his chivalry; but there +is nothing he won't have a finger in." + +Sancho muttered this somewhat aloud, and his master overheard him, and +asked, "What art thou muttering there, Sancho?" + +"I'm not saying anything or muttering anything," said Sancho; "I was only +saying to myself that I wish I had heard what your worship has said just +now before I married; perhaps I'd say now, 'The ox that's loose licks +himself well.'" + +"Is thy Teresa so bad then, Sancho?" + +"She is not very bad," replied Sancho; "but she is not very good; at +least she is not as good as I could wish." + +"Thou dost wrong, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "to speak ill of thy wife; +for after all she is the mother of thy children." "We are quits," +returned Sancho; "for she speaks ill of me whenever she takes it into her +head, especially when she is jealous; and Satan himself could not put up +with her then." + +In fine, they remained three days with the newly married couple, by whom +they were entertained and treated like kings. Don Quixote begged the +fencing licentiate to find him a guide to show him the way to the cave of +Montesinos, as he had a great desire to enter it and see with his own +eyes if the wonderful tales that were told of it all over the country +were true. The licentiate said he would get him a cousin of his own, a +famous scholar, and one very much given to reading books of chivalry, who +would have great pleasure in conducting him to the mouth of the very +cave, and would show him the lakes of Ruidera, which were likewise famous +all over La Mancha, and even all over Spain; and he assured him he would +find him entertaining, for he was a youth who could write books good +enough to be printed and dedicated to princes. The cousin arrived at +last, leading an ass in foal, with a pack-saddle covered with a +parti-coloured carpet or sackcloth; Sancho saddled Rocinante, got Dapple +ready, and stocked his alforjas, along with which went those of the +cousin, likewise well filled; and so, commending themselves to God and +bidding farewell to all, they set out, taking the road for the famous +cave of Montesinos. + +On the way Don Quixote asked the cousin of what sort and character his +pursuits, avocations, and studies were, to which he replied that he was +by profession a humanist, and that his pursuits and studies were making +books for the press, all of great utility and no less entertainment to +the nation. One was called "The Book of Liveries," in which he described +seven hundred and three liveries, with their colours, mottoes, and +ciphers, from which gentlemen of the court might pick and choose any they +fancied for festivals and revels, without having to go a-begging for them +from anyone, or puzzling their brains, as the saying is, to have them +appropriate to their objects and purposes; "for," said he, "I give the +jealous, the rejected, the forgotten, the absent, what will suit them, +and fit them without fail. I have another book, too, which I shall call +'Metamorphoses, or the Spanish Ovid,' one of rare and original invention, +for imitating Ovid in burlesque style, I show in it who the Giralda of +Seville and the Angel of the Magdalena were, what the sewer of +Vecinguerra at Cordova was, what the bulls of Guisando, the Sierra +Morena, the Leganitos and Lavapies fountains at Madrid, not forgetting +those of the Piojo, of the Cano Dorado, and of the Priora; and all with +their allegories, metaphors, and changes, so that they are amusing, +interesting, and instructive, all at once. Another book I have which I +call 'The Supplement to Polydore Vergil,' which treats of the invention +of things, and is a work of great erudition and research, for I establish +and elucidate elegantly some things of great importance which Polydore +omitted to mention. He forgot to tell us who was the first man in the +world that had a cold in his head, and who was the first to try +salivation for the French disease, but I give it accurately set forth, +and quote more than five-and-twenty authors in proof of it, so you may +perceive I have laboured to good purpose and that the book will be of +service to the whole world." + +Sancho, who had been very attentive to the cousin's words, said to him, +"Tell me, senor--and God give you luck in printing your books-can you +tell me (for of course you know, as you know everything) who was the +first man that scratched his head? For to my thinking it must have been +our father Adam." + +"So it must," replied the cousin; "for there is no doubt but Adam had a +head and hair; and being the first man in the world he would have +scratched himself sometimes." + +"So I think," said Sancho; "but now tell me, who was the first tumbler in +the world?" + +"Really, brother," answered the cousin, "I could not at this moment say +positively without having investigated it; I will look it up when I go +back to where I have my books, and will satisfy you the next time we +meet, for this will not be the last time." + +"Look here, senor," said Sancho, "don't give yourself any trouble about +it, for I have just this minute hit upon what I asked you. The first +tumbler in the world, you must know, was Lucifer, when they cast or +pitched him out of heaven; for he came tumbling into the bottomless pit." + +"You are right, friend," said the cousin; and said Don Quixote, "Sancho, +that question and answer are not thine own; thou hast heard them from +some one else." + +"Hold your peace, senor," said Sancho; "faith, if I take to asking +questions and answering, I'll go on from this till to-morrow morning. +Nay! to ask foolish things and answer nonsense I needn't go looking for +help from my neighbours." + +"Thou hast said more than thou art aware of, Sancho," said Don Quixote; +"for there are some who weary themselves out in learning and proving +things that, after they are known and proved, are not worth a farthing to +the understanding or memory." + +In this and other pleasant conversation the day went by, and that night +they put up at a small hamlet whence it was not more than two leagues to +the cave of Montesinos, so the cousin told Don Quixote, adding, that if +he was bent upon entering it, it would be requisite for him to provide +himself with ropes, so that he might be tied and lowered into its depths. +Don Quixote said that even if it reached to the bottomless pit he meant +to see where it went to; so they bought about a hundred fathoms of rope, +and next day at two in the afternoon they arrived at the cave, the mouth +of which is spacious and wide, but full of thorn and wild-fig bushes and +brambles and briars, so thick and matted that they completely close it up +and cover it over. + +On coming within sight of it the cousin, Sancho, and Don Quixote +dismounted, and the first two immediately tied the latter very firmly +with the ropes, and as they were girding and swathing him Sancho said to +him, "Mind what you are about, master mine; don't go burying yourself +alive, or putting yourself where you'll be like a bottle put to cool in a +well; it's no affair or business of your worship's to become the explorer +of this, which must be worse than a Moorish dungeon." + +"Tie me and hold thy peace," said Don Quixote, "for an emprise like this, +friend Sancho, was reserved for me;" and said the guide, "I beg of you, +Senor Don Quixote, to observe carefully and examine with a hundred eyes +everything that is within there; perhaps there may be some things for me +to put into my book of 'Transformations.'" + +"The drum is in hands that will know how to beat it well enough," said +Sancho Panza. + +When he had said this and finished the tying (which was not over the +armour but only over the doublet) Don Quixote observed, "It was careless +of us not to have provided ourselves with a small cattle-bell to be tied +on the rope close to me, the sound of which would show that I was still +descending and alive; but as that is out of the question now, in God's +hand be it to guide me;" and forthwith he fell on his knees and in a low +voice offered up a prayer to heaven, imploring God to aid him and grant +him success in this to all appearance perilous and untried adventure, and +then exclaimed aloud, "O mistress of my actions and movements, +illustrious and peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, if so be the prayers and +supplications of this fortunate lover can reach thy ears, by thy +incomparable beauty I entreat thee to listen to them, for they but ask +thee not to refuse me thy favour and protection now that I stand in such +need of them. I am about to precipitate, to sink, to plunge myself into +the abyss that is here before me, only to let the world know that while +thou dost favour me there is no impossibility I will not attempt and +accomplish." With these words he approached the cavern, and perceived +that it was impossible to let himself down or effect an entrance except +by sheer force or cleaving a passage; so drawing his sword he began to +demolish and cut away the brambles at the mouth of the cave, at the noise +of which a vast multitude of crows and choughs flew out of it so thick +and so fast that they knocked Don Quixote down; and if he had been as +much of a believer in augury as he was a Catholic Christian he would have +taken it as a bad omen and declined to bury himself in such a place. He +got up, however, and as there came no more crows, or night-birds like the +bats that flew out at the same time with the crows, the cousin and Sancho +giving him rope, he lowered himself into the depths of the dread cavern; +and as he entered it Sancho sent his blessing after him, making a +thousand crosses over him and saying, "God, and the Pena de Francia, and +the Trinity of Gaeta guide thee, flower and cream of knights-errant. +There thou goest, thou dare-devil of the earth, heart of steel, arm of +brass; once more, God guide thee and send thee back safe, sound, and +unhurt to the light of this world thou art leaving to bury thyself in the +darkness thou art seeking there;" and the cousin offered up almost the +same prayers and supplications. + +Don Quixote kept calling to them to give him rope and more rope, and they +gave it out little by little, and by the time the calls, which came out +of the cave as out of a pipe, ceased to be heard they had let down the +hundred fathoms of rope. They were inclined to pull Don Quixote up again, +as they could give him no more rope; however, they waited about half an +hour, at the end of which time they began to gather in the rope again +with great ease and without feeling any weight, which made them fancy Don +Quixote was remaining below; and persuaded that it was so, Sancho wept +bitterly, and hauled away in great haste in order to settle the question. +When, however, they had come to, as it seemed, rather more than eighty +fathoms they felt a weight, at which they were greatly delighted; and at +last, at ten fathoms more, they saw Don Quixote distinctly, and Sancho +called out to him, saying, "Welcome back, senor, for we had begun to +think you were going to stop there to found a family." But Don Quixote +answered not a word, and drawing him out entirely they perceived he had +his eyes shut and every appearance of being fast asleep. + +They stretched him on the ground and untied him, but still he did not +awake; however, they rolled him back and forwards and shook and pulled +him about, so that after some time he came to himself, stretching himself +just as if he were waking up from a deep and sound sleep, and looking +about him he said, "God forgive you, friends; ye have taken me away from +the sweetest and most delightful existence and spectacle that ever human +being enjoyed or beheld. Now indeed do I know that all the pleasures of +this life pass away like a shadow and a dream, or fade like the flower of +the field. O ill-fated Montesinos! O sore-wounded Durandarte! O unhappy +Belerma! O tearful Guadiana, and ye O hapless daughters of Ruidera who +show in your waves the tears that flowed from your beauteous eyes!" + +The cousin and Sancho Panza listened with deep attention to the words of +Don Quixote, who uttered them as though with immense pain he drew them up +from his very bowels. They begged of him to explain himself, and tell +them what he had seen in that hell down there. + +"Hell do you call it?" said Don Quixote; "call it by no such name, for it +does not deserve it, as ye shall soon see." + +He then begged them to give him something to eat, as he was very hungry. +They spread the cousin's sackcloth on the grass, and put the stores of +the alforjas into requisition, and all three sitting down lovingly and +sociably, they made a luncheon and a supper of it all in one; and when +the sackcloth was removed, Don Quixote of La Mancha said, "Let no one +rise, and attend to me, my sons, both of you." + +Chapter XXIII. - +Of the wonderful things the incomparable Don Quixote said he saw in the +profound cave of Montesinos, the impossibility and magnitude of which +cause this adventure to be deemed apocryphal + +It was about four in the afternoon when the sun, veiled in clouds, with +subdued light and tempered beams, enabled Don Quixote to relate, without +heat or inconvenience, what he had seen in the cave of Montesinos to his +two illustrious hearers, and he began as follows: + +"A matter of some twelve or fourteen times a man's height down in this +pit, on the right-hand side, there is a recess or space, roomy enough to +contain a large cart with its mules. A little light reaches it through +some chinks or crevices, communicating with it and open to the surface of +the earth. This recess or space I perceived when I was already growing +weary and disgusted at finding myself hanging suspended by the rope, +travelling downwards into that dark region without any certainty or +knowledge of where I was going, so I resolved to enter it and rest myself +for a while. I called out, telling you not to let out more rope until I +bade you, but you cannot have heard me. I then gathered in the rope you +were sending me, and making a coil or pile of it I seated myself upon it, +ruminating and considering what I was to do to lower myself to the +bottom, having no one to hold me up; and as I was thus deep in thought +and perplexity, suddenly and without provocation a profound sleep fell +upon me, and when I least expected it, I know not how, I awoke and found +myself in the midst of the most beautiful, delightful meadow that nature +could produce or the most lively human imagination conceive. I opened my +eyes, I rubbed them, and found I was not asleep but thoroughly awake. +Nevertheless, I felt my head and breast to satisfy myself whether it was +I myself who was there or some empty delusive phantom; but touch, +feeling, the collected thoughts that passed through my mind, all +convinced me that I was the same then and there that I am this moment. +Next there presented itself to my sight a stately royal palace or castle, +with walls that seemed built of clear transparent crystal; and through +two great doors that opened wide therein, I saw coming forth and +advancing towards me a venerable old man, clad in a long gown of +mulberry-coloured serge that trailed upon the ground. On his shoulders +and breast he had a green satin collegiate hood, and covering his head a +black Milanese bonnet, and his snow-white beard fell below his girdle. He +carried no arms whatever, nothing but a rosary of beads bigger than +fair-sized filberts, each tenth bead being like a moderate ostrich egg; +his bearing, his gait, his dignity and imposing presence held me +spellbound and wondering. He approached me, and the first thing he did +was to embrace me closely, and then he said to me, 'For a long time now, +O valiant knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, we who are here enchanted in +these solitudes have been hoping to see thee, that thou mayest make known +to the world what is shut up and concealed in this deep cave, called the +cave of Montesinos, which thou hast entered, an achievement reserved for +thy invincible heart and stupendous courage alone to attempt. Come with +me, illustrious sir, and I will show thee the marvels hidden within this +transparent castle, whereof I am the alcaide and perpetual warden; for I +am Montesinos himself, from whom the cave takes its name.' + +"The instant he told me he was Montesinos, I asked him if the story they +told in the world above here was true, that he had taken out the heart of +his great friend Durandarte from his breast with a little dagger, and +carried it to the lady Belerma, as his friend when at the point of death +had commanded him. He said in reply that they spoke the truth in every +respect except as to the dagger, for it was not a dagger, nor little, but +a burnished poniard sharper than an awl." + +"That poniard must have been made by Ramon de Hoces the Sevillian," said +Sancho. + +"I do not know," said Don Quixote; "it could not have been by that +poniard maker, however, because Ramon de Hoces was a man of yesterday, +and the affair of Roncesvalles, where this mishap occurred, was long ago; +but the question is of no great importance, nor does it affect or make +any alteration in the truth or substance of the story." + +"That is true," said the cousin; "continue, Senor Don Quixote, for I am +listening to you with the greatest pleasure in the world." + +"And with no less do I tell the tale," said Don Quixote; "and so, to +proceed--the venerable Montesinos led me into the palace of crystal, +where, in a lower chamber, strangely cool and entirely of alabaster, was +an elaborately wrought marble tomb, upon which I beheld, stretched at +full length, a knight, not of bronze, or marble, or jasper, as are seen +on other tombs, but of actual flesh and bone. His right hand (which +seemed to me somewhat hairy and sinewy, a sign of great strength in its +owner) lay on the side of his heart; but before I could put any question +to Montesinos, he, seeing me gazing at the tomb in amazement, said to me, +'This is my friend Durandarte, flower and mirror of the true lovers and +valiant knights of his time. He is held enchanted here, as I myself and +many others are, by that French enchanter Merlin, who, they say, was the +devil's son; but my belief is, not that he was the devil's son, but that +he knew, as the saying is, a point more than the devil. How or why he +enchanted us, no one knows, but time will tell, and I suspect that time +is not far off. What I marvel at is, that I know it to be as sure as that +it is now day, that Durandarte ended his life in my arms, and that, after +his death, I took out his heart with my own hands; and indeed it must +have weighed more than two pounds, for, according to naturalists, he who +has a large heart is more largely endowed with valour than he who has a +small one. Then, as this is the case, and as the knight did really die, +how comes it that he now moans and sighs from time to time, as if he were +still alive?' + +"As he said this, the wretched Durandarte cried out in a loud voice: + +poem{ + +O cousin Montesinos! + 'T was my last request of thee, +When my soul hath left the body, + And that lying dead I be, +With thy poniard or thy dagger + Cut the heart from out my breast, +And bear it to Belerma. + This was my last request." + +}poem + +On hearing which, the venerable Montesinos fell on his knees before the +unhappy knight, and with tearful eyes exclaimed, 'Long since, Senor +Durandarte, my beloved cousin, long since have I done what you bade me on +that sad day when I lost you; I took out your heart as well as I could, +not leaving an atom of it in your breast, I wiped it with a lace +handkerchief, and I took the road to France with it, having first laid +you in the bosom of the earth with tears enough to wash and cleanse my +hands of the blood that covered them after wandering among your bowels; +and more by token, O cousin of my soul, at the first village I came to +after leaving Roncesvalles, I sprinkled a little salt upon your heart to +keep it sweet, and bring it, if not fresh, at least pickled, into the +presence of the lady Belerma, whom, together with you, myself, Guadiana +your squire, the duenna Ruidera and her seven daughters and two nieces, +and many more of your friends and acquaintances, the sage Merlin has been +keeping enchanted here these many years; and although more than five +hundred have gone by, not one of us has died; Ruidera and her daughters +and nieces alone are missing, and these, because of the tears they shed, +Merlin, out of the compassion he seems to have felt for them, changed +into so many lakes, which to this day in the world of the living, and in +the province of La Mancha, are called the Lakes of Ruidera. The seven +daughters belong to the kings of Spain and the two nieces to the knights +of a very holy order called the Order of St. John. Guadiana your squire, +likewise bewailing your fate, was changed into a river of his own name, +but when he came to the surface and beheld the sun of another heaven, so +great was his grief at finding he was leaving you, that he plunged into +the bowels of the earth; however, as he cannot help following his natural +course, he from time to time comes forth and shows himself to the sun and +the world. The lakes aforesaid send him their waters, and with these, and +others that come to him, he makes a grand and imposing entrance into +Portugal; but for all that, go where he may, he shows his melancholy and +sadness, and takes no pride in breeding dainty choice fish, only coarse +and tasteless sorts, very different from those of the golden Tagus. All +this that I tell you now, O cousin mine, I have told you many times +before, and as you make no answer, I fear that either you believe me not, +or do not hear me, whereat I feel God knows what grief. I have now news +to give you, which, if it serves not to alleviate your sufferings, will +not in any wise increase them. Know that you have here before you (open +your eyes and you will see) that great knight of whom the sage Merlin has +prophesied such great things; that Don Quixote of La Mancha I mean, who +has again, and to better purpose than in past times, revived in these +days knight-errantry, long since forgotten, and by whose intervention and +aid it may be we shall be disenchanted; for great deeds are reserved for +great men.' + +"'And if that may not be,' said the wretched Durandarte in a low and +feeble voice, 'if that may not be, then, my cousin, I say "patience and +shuffle;"' and turning over on his side, he relapsed into his former +silence without uttering another word. + +"And now there was heard a great outcry and lamentation, accompanied by +deep sighs and bitter sobs. I looked round, and through the crystal wall +I saw passing through another chamber a procession of two lines of fair +damsels all clad in mourning, and with white turbans of Turkish fashion +on their heads. Behind, in the rear of these, there came a lady, for so +from her dignity she seemed to be, also clad in black, with a white veil +so long and ample that it swept the ground. Her turban was twice as large +as the largest of any of the others; her eyebrows met, her nose was +rather flat, her mouth was large but with ruddy lips, and her teeth, of +which at times she allowed a glimpse, were seen to be sparse and ill-set, +though as white as peeled almonds. She carried in her hands a fine cloth, +and in it, as well as I could make out, a heart that had been mummied, so +parched and dried was it. Montesinos told me that all those forming the +procession were the attendants of Durandarte and Belerma, who were +enchanted there with their master and mistress, and that the last, she +who carried the heart in the cloth, was the lady Belerma, who, with her +damsels, four days in the week went in procession singing, or rather +weeping, dirges over the body and miserable heart of his cousin; and that +if she appeared to me somewhat ill-favoured or not so beautiful as fame +reported her, it was because of the bad nights and worse days that she +passed in that enchantment, as I could see by the great dark circles +round her eyes, and her sickly complexion; 'her sallowness, and the rings +round her eyes,' said he, 'are not caused by the periodical ailment usual +with women, for it is many months and even years since she has had any, +but by the grief her own heart suffers because of that which she holds in +her hand perpetually, and which recalls and brings back to her memory the +sad fate of her lost lover; were it not for this, hardly would the great +Dulcinea del Toboso, so celebrated in all these parts, and even in the +world, come up to her for beauty, grace, and gaiety.' + +"'Hold hard!' said I at this, 'tell your story as you ought, Senor Don +Montesinos, for you know very well that all comparisons are odious, and +there is no occasion to compare one person with another; the peerless +Dulcinea del Toboso is what she is, and the lady Dona Belerma is what she +is and has been, and that's enough.' To which he made answer, 'Forgive +me, Senor Don Quixote; I own I was wrong and spoke unadvisedly in saying +that the lady Dulcinea could scarcely come up to the lady Belerma; for it +were enough for me to have learned, by what means I know not, that you +are her knight, to make me bite my tongue out before I compared her to +anything save heaven itself.' After this apology which the great +Montesinos made me, my heart recovered itself from the shock I had +received in hearing my lady compared with Belerma." + +"Still I wonder," said Sancho, "that your worship did not get upon the +old fellow and bruise every bone of him with kicks, and pluck his beard +until you didn't leave a hair in it." + +"Nay, Sancho, my friend," said Don Quixote, "it would not have been right +in me to do that, for we are all bound to pay respect to the aged, even +though they be not knights, but especially to those who are, and who are +enchanted; I only know I gave him as good as he brought in the many other +questions and answers we exchanged." + +"I cannot understand, Senor Don Quixote," remarked the cousin here, "how +it is that your worship, in such a short space of time as you have been +below there, could have seen so many things, and said and answered so +much." + +"How long is it since I went down?" asked Don Quixote. + +"Little better than an hour," replied Sancho. + +"That cannot be," returned Don Quixote, "because night overtook me while +I was there, and day came, and it was night again and day again three +times; so that, by my reckoning, I have been three days in those remote +regions beyond our ken." + +"My master must be right," replied Sancho; "for as everything that has +happened to him is by enchantment, maybe what seems to us an hour would +seem three days and nights there." + +"That's it," said Don Quixote. + +"And did your worship eat anything all that time, senor?" asked the +cousin. + +"I never touched a morsel," answered Don Quixote, "nor did I feel hunger, +or think of it." + +"And do the enchanted eat?" said the cousin. + +"They neither eat," said Don Quixote; "nor are they subject to the +greater excrements, though it is thought that their nails, beards, and +hair grow." + +"And do the enchanted sleep, now, senor?" asked Sancho. + +"Certainly not," replied Don Quixote; "at least, during those three days +I was with them not one of them closed an eye, nor did I either." + +"The proverb, 'Tell me what company thou keepest and I'll tell thee what +thou art,' is to the point here," said Sancho; "your worship keeps +company with enchanted people that are always fasting and watching; what +wonder is it, then, that you neither eat nor sleep while you are with +them? But forgive me, senor, if I say that of all this you have told us +now, may God take me--I was just going to say the devil--if I believe a +single particle." + +"What!" said the cousin, "has Senor Don Quixote, then, been lying? Why, +even if he wished it he has not had time to imagine and put together such +a host of lies." + +"I don't believe my master lies," said Sancho. + +"If not, what dost thou believe?" asked Don Quixote. + +"I believe," replied Sancho, "that this Merlin, or those enchanters who +enchanted the whole crew your worship says you saw and discoursed with +down there, stuffed your imagination or your mind with all this rigmarole +you have been treating us to, and all that is still to come." + +"All that might be, Sancho," replied Don Quixote; "but it is not so, for +everything that I have told you I saw with my own eyes, and touched with +my own hands. But what will you say when I tell you now how, among the +countless other marvellous things Montesinos showed me (of which at +leisure and at the proper time I will give thee an account in the course +of our journey, for they would not be all in place here), he showed me +three country girls who went skipping and capering like goats over the +pleasant fields there, and the instant I beheld them I knew one to be the +peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, and the other two those same country girls +that were with her and that we spoke to on the road from El Toboso! I +asked Montesinos if he knew them, and he told me he did not, but he +thought they must be some enchanted ladies of distinction, for it was +only a few days before that they had made their appearance in those +meadows; but I was not to be surprised at that, because there were a +great many other ladies there of times past and present, enchanted in +various strange shapes, and among them he had recognised Queen Guinevere +and her dame Quintanona, she who poured out the wine for Lancelot when he +came from Britain." + +When Sancho Panza heard his master say this he was ready to take leave of +his senses, or die with laughter; for, as he knew the real truth about +the pretended enchantment of Dulcinea, in which he himself had been the +enchanter and concocter of all the evidence, he made up his mind at last +that, beyond all doubt, his master was out of his wits and stark mad, so +he said to him, "It was an evil hour, a worse season, and a sorrowful +day, when your worship, dear master mine, went down to the other world, +and an unlucky moment when you met with Senor Montesinos, who has sent +you back to us like this. You were well enough here above in your full +senses, such as God had given you, delivering maxims and giving advice at +every turn, and not as you are now, talking the greatest nonsense that +can be imagined." + +"As I know thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "I heed not thy words." + +"Nor I your worship's," said Sancho, "whether you beat me or kill me for +those I have spoken, and will speak if you don't correct and mend your +own. But tell me, while we are still at peace, how or by what did you +recognise the lady our mistress; and if you spoke to her, what did you +say, and what did she answer?" + +"I recognised her," said Don Quixote, "by her wearing the same garments +she wore when thou didst point her out to me. I spoke to her, but she did +not utter a word in reply; on the contrary, she turned her back on me and +took to flight, at such a pace that crossbow bolt could not have +overtaken her. I wished to follow her, and would have done so had not +Montesinos recommended me not to take the trouble as it would be useless, +particularly as the time was drawing near when it would be necessary for +me to quit the cavern. He told me, moreover, that in course of time he +would let me know how he and Belerma, and Durandarte, and all who were +there, were to be disenchanted. But of all I saw and observed down there, +what gave me most pain was, that while Montesinos was speaking to me, one +of the two companions of the hapless Dulcinea approached me on one +without my having seen her coming, and with tears in her eyes said to me, +in a low, agitated voice, 'My lady Dulcinea del Toboso kisses your +worship's hands, and entreats you to do her the favour of letting her +know how you are; and, being in great need, she also entreats your +worship as earnestly as she can to be so good as to lend her half a dozen +reals, or as much as you may have about you, on this new dimity petticoat +that I have here; and she promises to repay them very speedily.' I was +amazed and taken aback by such a message, and turning to Senor Montesinos +I asked him, 'Is it possible, Senor Montesinos, that persons of +distinction under enchantment can be in need?' To which he replied, +'Believe me, Senor Don Quixote, that which is called need is to be met +with everywhere, and penetrates all quarters and reaches everyone, and +does not spare even the enchanted; and as the lady Dulcinea del Toboso +sends to beg those six reals, and the pledge is to all appearance a good +one, there is nothing for it but to give them to her, for no doubt she +must be in some great strait.' 'I will take no pledge of her,' I replied, +'nor yet can I give her what she asks, for all I have is four reals; +which I gave (they were those which thou, Sancho, gavest me the other day +to bestow in alms upon the poor I met along the road), and I said, 'Tell +your mistress, my dear, that I am grieved to the heart because of her +distresses, and wish I was a Fucar to remedy them, and that I would have +her know that I cannot be, and ought not be, in health while deprived of +the happiness of seeing her and enjoying her discreet conversation, and +that I implore her as earnestly as I can, to allow herself to be seen and +addressed by this her captive servant and forlorn knight. Tell her, too, +that when she least expects it she will hear it announced that I have +made an oath and vow after the fashion of that which the Marquis of +Mantua made to avenge his nephew Baldwin, when he found him at the point +of death in the heart of the mountains, which was, not to eat bread off a +tablecloth, and other trifling matters which he added, until he had +avenged him; and I will make the same to take no rest, and to roam the +seven regions of the earth more thoroughly than the Infante Don Pedro of +Portugal ever roamed them, until I have disenchanted her.' 'All that and +more, you owe my lady,' the damsel's answer to me, and taking the four +reals, instead of making me a curtsey she cut a caper, springing two full +yards into the air." + +"O blessed God!" exclaimed Sancho aloud at this, "is it possible that +such things can be in the world, and that enchanters and enchantments can +have such power in it as to have changed my master's right senses into a +craze so full of absurdity! O senor, senor, for God's sake, consider +yourself, have a care for your honour, and give no credit to this silly +stuff that has left you scant and short of wits." + +"Thou talkest in this way because thou lovest me, Sancho," said Don +Quixote; "and not being experienced in the things of the world, +everything that has some difficulty about it seems to thee impossible; +but time will pass, as I said before, and I will tell thee some of the +things I saw down there which will make thee believe what I have related +now, the truth of which admits of neither reply nor question." + +Chapter XXIV. - +Wherein are related a thousand trifling matters, as trivial as they are +necessary to the right understanding of this great history + +He who translated this great history from the original written by its +first author, Cide Hamete Benengeli, says that on coming to the chapter +giving the adventures of the cave of Montesinos he found written on the +margin of it, in Hamete's own hand, these exact words: + +"I cannot convince or persuade myself that everything that is written in +the preceding chapter could have precisely happened to the valiant Don +Quixote; and for this reason, that all the adventures that have occurred +up to the present have been possible and probable; but as for this one of +the cave, I see no way of accepting it as true, as it passes all +reasonable bounds. For me to believe that Don Quixote could lie, he being +the most truthful gentleman and the noblest knight of his time, is +impossible; he would not have told a lie though he were shot to death +with arrows. On the other hand, I reflect that he related and told the +story with all the circumstances detailed, and that he could not in so +short a space have fabricated such a vast complication of absurdities; +if, then, this adventure seems apocryphal, it is no fault of mine; and +so, without affirming its falsehood or its truth, I write it down. Decide +for thyself in thy wisdom, reader; for I am not bound, nor is it in my +power, to do more; though certain it is they say that at the time of his +death he retracted, and said he had invented it, thinking it matched and +tallied with the adventures he had read of in his histories." And then he +goes on to say: + +The cousin was amazed as well at Sancho's boldness as at the patience of +his master, and concluded that the good temper the latter displayed arose +from the happiness he felt at having seen his lady Dulcinea, even +enchanted as she was; because otherwise the words and language Sancho had +addressed to him deserved a thrashing; for indeed he seemed to him to +have been rather impudent to his master, to whom he now observed, "I, +Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha, look upon the time I have spent in +travelling with your worship as very well employed, for I have gained +four things in the course of it; the first is that I have made your +acquaintance, which I consider great good fortune; the second, that I +have learned what the cave of Montesinos contains, together with the +transformations of Guadiana and of the lakes of Ruidera; which will be of +use to me for the Spanish Ovid that I have in hand; the third, to have +discovered the antiquity of cards, that they were in use at least in the +time of Charlemagne, as may be inferred from the words you say Durandarte +uttered when, at the end of that long spell while Montesinos was talking +to him, he woke up and said, 'Patience and shuffle.' This phrase and +expression he could not have learned while he was enchanted, but only +before he had become so, in France, and in the time of the aforesaid +emperor Charlemagne. And this demonstration is just the thing for me for +that other book I am writing, the 'Supplement to Polydore Vergil on the +Invention of Antiquities;' for I believe he never thought of inserting +that of cards in his book, as I mean to do in mine, and it will be a +matter of great importance, particularly when I can cite so grave and +veracious an authority as Senor Durandarte. And the fourth thing is, that +I have ascertained the source of the river Guadiana, heretofore unknown +to mankind." + +"You are right," said Don Quixote; "but I should like to know, if by +God's favour they grant you a licence to print those books of yours-which +I doubt--to whom do you mean dedicate them?" + +"There are lords and grandees in Spain to whom they can be dedicated," +said the cousin. + +"Not many," said Don Quixote; "not that they are unworthy of it, but +because they do not care to accept books and incur the obligation of +making the return that seems due to the author's labour and courtesy. One +prince I know who makes up for all the rest, and more-how much more, if I +ventured to say, perhaps I should stir up envy in many a noble breast; +but let this stand over for some more convenient time, and let us go and +look for some place to shelter ourselves in to-night." + +"Not far from this," said the cousin, "there is a hermitage, where there +lives a hermit, who they say was a soldier, and who has the reputation of +being a good Christian and a very intelligent and charitable man. Close +to the hermitage he has a small house which he built at his own cost, but +though small it is large enough for the reception of guests." + +"Has this hermit any hens, do you think?" asked Sancho. + +"Few hermits are without them," said Don Quixote; "for those we see +now-a-days are not like the hermits of the Egyptian deserts who were clad +in palm-leaves, and lived on the roots of the earth. But do not think +that by praising these I am disparaging the others; all I mean to say is +that the penances of those of the present day do not come up to the +asceticism and austerity of former times; but it does not follow from +this that they are not all worthy; at least I think them so; and at the +worst the hypocrite who pretends to be good does less harm than the open +sinner." + +At this point they saw approaching the spot where they stood a man on +foot, proceeding at a rapid pace, and beating a mule loaded with lances +and halberds. When he came up to them, he saluted them and passed on +without stopping. Don Quixote called to him, "Stay, good fellow; you seem +to be making more haste than suits that mule." + +"I cannot stop, senor," answered the man; "for the arms you see I carry +here are to be used tomorrow, so I must not delay; God be with you. But +if you want to know what I am carrying them for, I mean to lodge to-night +at the inn that is beyond the hermitage, and if you be going the same +road you will find me there, and I will tell you some curious things; +once more God be with you;" and he urged on his mule at such a pace that +Don Quixote had no time to ask him what these curious things were that he +meant to tell them; and as he was somewhat inquisitive, and always +tortured by his anxiety to learn something new, he decided to set out at +once, and go and pass the night at the inn instead of stopping at the +hermitage, where the cousin would have had them halt. Accordingly they +mounted and all three took the direct road for the inn, which they +reached a little before nightfall. On the road the cousin proposed they +should go up to the hermitage to drink a sup. The instant Sancho heard +this he steered his Dapple towards it, and Don Quixote and the cousin did +the same; but it seems Sancho's bad luck so ordered it that the hermit +was not at home, for so a sub-hermit they found in the hermitage told +them. They called for some of the best. She replied that her master had +none, but that if they liked cheap water she would give it with great +pleasure. + +"If I found any in water," said Sancho, "there are wells along the road +where I could have had enough of it. Ah, Camacho's wedding, and plentiful +house of Don Diego, how often do I miss you!" + +Leaving the hermitage, they pushed on towards the inn, and a little +farther they came upon a youth who was pacing along in front of them at +no great speed, so that they overtook him. He carried a sword over his +shoulder, and slung on it a budget or bundle of his clothes apparently, +probably his breeches or pantaloons, and his cloak and a shirt or two; +for he had on a short jacket of velvet with a gloss like satin on it in +places, and had his shirt out; his stockings were of silk, and his shoes +square-toed as they wear them at court. His age might have been eighteen +or nineteen; he was of a merry countenance, and to all appearance of an +active habit, and he went along singing seguidillas to beguile the +wearisomeness of the road. As they came up with him he was just finishing +one, which the cousin got by heart and they say ran thus-- + +poem{ + +I'm off to the wars + For the want of pence, +Oh, had I but money + I'd show more sense. + +}poem + +The first to address him was Don Quixote, who said, "You travel very +airily, sir gallant; whither bound, may we ask, if it is your pleasure to +tell us?" + +To which the youth replied, "The heat and my poverty are the reason of my +travelling so airily, and it is to the wars that I am bound." + +"How poverty?" asked Don Quixote; "the heat one can understand." + +"Senor," replied the youth, "in this bundle I carry velvet pantaloons to +match this jacket; if I wear them out on the road, I shall not be able to +make a decent appearance in them in the city, and I have not the +wherewithal to buy others; and so for this reason, as well as to keep +myself cool, I am making my way in this fashion to overtake some +companies of infantry that are not twelve leagues off, in which I shall +enlist, and there will be no want of baggage trains to travel with after +that to the place of embarkation, which they say will be Carthagena; I +would rather have the King for a master, and serve him in the wars, than +serve a court pauper." + +"And did you get any bounty, now?" asked the cousin. + +"If I had been in the service of some grandee of Spain or personage of +distinction," replied the youth, "I should have been safe to get it; for +that is the advantage of serving good masters, that out of the servants' +hall men come to be ancients or captains, or get a good pension. But I, +to my misfortune, always served place-hunters and adventurers, whose keep +and wages were so miserable and scanty that half went in paying for the +starching of one's collars; it would be a miracle indeed if a page +volunteer ever got anything like a reasonable bounty." + +"And tell me, for heaven's sake," asked Don Quixote, "is it possible, my +friend, that all the time you served you never got any livery?" + +"They gave me two," replied the page; "but just as when one quits a +religious community before making profession, they strip him of the dress +of the order and give him back his own clothes, so did my masters return +me mine; for as soon as the business on which they came to court was +finished, they went home and took back the liveries they had given merely +for show." + +"What spilorceria!--as an Italian would say," said Don Quixote; "but for +all that, consider yourself happy in having left court with as worthy an +object as you have, for there is nothing on earth more honourable or +profitable than serving, first of all God, and then one's king and +natural lord, particularly in the profession of arms, by which, if not +more wealth, at least more honour is to be won than by letters, as I have +said many a time; for though letters may have founded more great houses +than arms, still those founded by arms have I know not what superiority +over those founded by letters, and a certain splendour belonging to them +that distinguishes them above all. And bear in mind what I am now about +to say to you, for it will be of great use and comfort to you in time of +trouble; it is, not to let your mind dwell on the adverse chances that +may befall you; for the worst of all is death, and if it be a good death, +the best of all is to die. They asked Julius Caesar, the valiant Roman +emperor, what was the best death. He answered, that which is unexpected, +which comes suddenly and unforeseen; and though he answered like a pagan, +and one without the knowledge of the true God, yet, as far as sparing our +feelings is concerned, he was right; for suppose you are killed in the +first engagement or skirmish, whether by a cannon ball or blown up by +mine, what matters it? It is only dying, and all is over; and according +to Terence, a soldier shows better dead in battle, than alive and safe in +flight; and the good soldier wins fame in proportion as he is obedient to +his captains and those in command over him. And remember, my son, that it +is better for the soldier to smell of gunpowder than of civet, and that +if old age should come upon you in this honourable calling, though you +may be covered with wounds and crippled and lame, it will not come upon +you without honour, and that such as poverty cannot lessen; especially +now that provisions are being made for supporting and relieving old and +disabled soldiers; for it is not right to deal with them after the +fashion of those who set free and get rid of their black slaves when they +are old and useless, and, turning them out of their houses under the +pretence of making them free, make them slaves to hunger, from which they +cannot expect to be released except by death. But for the present I won't +say more than get ye up behind me on my horse as far as the inn, and sup +with me there, and to-morrow you shall pursue your journey, and God give +you as good speed as your intentions deserve." + +The page did not accept the invitation to mount, though he did that to +supper at the inn; and here they say Sancho said to himself, "God be with +you for a master; is it possible that a man who can say things so many +and so good as he has said just now, can say that he saw the impossible +absurdities he reports about the cave of Montesinos? Well, well, we shall +see." + +And now, just as night was falling, they reached the inn, and it was not +without satisfaction that Sancho perceived his master took it for a real +inn, and not for a castle as usual. The instant they entered Don Quixote +asked the landlord after the man with the lances and halberds, and was +told that he was in the stable seeing to his mule; which was what Sancho +and the cousin proceeded to do for their beasts, giving the best manger +and the best place in the stable to Rocinante. + +Chapter XXV. - +Wherein is set down the braying adventure, and the droll one of the +puppet-showman, together with the memorable divinations of the divining +ape + +Don Quixote's bread would not bake, as the common saying is, until he had +heard and learned the curious things promised by the man who carried the +arms. He went to seek him where the innkeeper said he was and having +found him, bade him say now at any rate what he had to say in answer to +the question he had asked him on the road. "The tale of my wonders must +be taken more leisurely and not standing," said the man; "let me finish +foddering my beast, good sir; and then I'll tell you things that will +astonish you." + +"Don't wait for that," said Don Quixote; "I'll help you in everything," +and so he did, sifting the barley for him and cleaning out the manger; a +degree of humility which made the other feel bound to tell him with a +good grace what he had asked; so seating himself on a bench, with Don +Quixote beside him, and the cousin, the page, Sancho Panza, and the +landlord, for a senate and an audience, he began his story in this way: + +"You must know that in a village four leagues and a half from this inn, +it so happened that one of the regidors, by the tricks and roguery of a +servant girl of his (it's too long a tale to tell), lost an ass; and +though he did all he possibly could to find it, it was all to no purpose. +A fortnight might have gone by, so the story goes, since the ass had been +missing, when, as the regidor who had lost it was standing in the plaza, +another regidor of the same town said to him, 'Pay me for good news, +gossip; your ass has turned up.' 'That I will, and well, gossip,' said +the other; 'but tell us, where has he turned up?' 'In the forest,' said +the finder; 'I saw him this morning without pack-saddle or harness of any +sort, and so lean that it went to one's heart to see him. I tried to +drive him before me and bring him to you, but he is already so wild and +shy that when I went near him he made off into the thickest part of the +forest. If you have a mind that we two should go back and look for him, +let me put up this she-ass at my house and I'll be back at once.' 'You +will be doing me a great kindness,' said the owner of the ass, 'and I'll +try to pay it back in the same coin.' It is with all these circumstances, +and in the very same way I am telling it now, that those who know all +about the matter tell the story. Well then, the two regidors set off on +foot, arm in arm, for the forest, and coming to the place where they +hoped to find the ass they could not find him, nor was he to be seen +anywhere about, search as they might. Seeing, then, that there was no +sign of him, the regidor who had seen him said to the other, 'Look here, +gossip; a plan has occurred to me, by which, beyond a doubt, we shall +manage to discover the animal, even if he is stowed away in the bowels of +the earth, not to say the forest. Here it is. I can bray to perfection, +and if you can ever so little, the thing's as good as done.' 'Ever so +little did you say, gossip?' said the other; 'by God, I'll not give in to +anybody, not even to the asses themselves.' 'We'll soon see,' said the +second regidor, 'for my plan is that you should go one side of the +forest, and I the other, so as to go all round about it; and every now +and then you will bray and I will bray; and it cannot be but that the ass +will hear us, and answer us if he is in the forest.' To which the owner +of the ass replied, 'It's an excellent plan, I declare, gossip, and +worthy of your great genius;' and the two separating as agreed, it so +fell out that they brayed almost at the same moment, and each, deceived +by the braying of the other, ran to look, fancying the ass had turned up +at last. When they came in sight of one another, said the loser, 'Is it +possible, gossip, that it was not my ass that brayed?' 'No, it was I,' +said the other. 'Well then, I can tell you, gossip,' said the ass's +owner, 'that between you and an ass there is not an atom of difference as +far as braying goes, for I never in all my life saw or heard anything +more natural.' 'Those praises and compliments belong to you more justly +than to me, gossip,' said the inventor of the plan; 'for, by the God that +made me, you might give a couple of brays odds to the best and most +finished brayer in the world; the tone you have got is deep, your voice +is well kept up as to time and pitch, and your finishing notes come thick +and fast; in fact, I own myself beaten, and yield the palm to you, and +give in to you in this rare accomplishment.' 'Well then,' said the owner, +'I'll set a higher value on myself for the future, and consider that I +know something, as I have an excellence of some sort; for though I always +thought I brayed well, I never supposed I came up to the pitch of +perfection you say.' 'And I say too,' said the second, 'that there are +rare gifts going to loss in the world, and that they are ill bestowed +upon those who don't know how to make use of them.' 'Ours,' said the +owner of the ass, 'unless it is in cases like this we have now in hand, +cannot be of any service to us, and even in this God grant they may be of +some use.' So saying they separated, and took to their braying once more, +but every instant they were deceiving one another, and coming to meet one +another again, until they arranged by way of countersign, so as to know +that it was they and not the ass, to give two brays, one after the other. +In this way, doubling the brays at every step, they made the complete +circuit of the forest, but the lost ass never gave them an answer or even +the sign of one. How could the poor ill-starred brute have answered, +when, in the thickest part of the forest, they found him devoured by +wolves? As soon as he saw him his owner said, 'I was wondering he did not +answer, for if he wasn't dead he'd have brayed when he heard us, or he'd +have been no ass; but for the sake of having heard you bray to such +perfection, gossip, I count the trouble I have taken to look for him well +bestowed, even though I have found him dead.' 'It's in a good hand, +gossip,' said the other; 'if the abbot sings well, the acolyte is not +much behind him.' So they returned disconsolate and hoarse to their +village, where they told their friends, neighbours, and acquaintances +what had befallen them in their search for the ass, each crying up the +other's perfection in braying. The whole story came to be known and +spread abroad through the villages of the neighbourhood; and the devil, +who never sleeps, with his love for sowing dissensions and scattering +discord everywhere, blowing mischief about and making quarrels out of +nothing, contrived to make the people of the other towns fall to braying +whenever they saw anyone from our village, as if to throw the braying of +our regidors in our teeth. Then the boys took to it, which was the same +thing for it as getting into the hands and mouths of all the devils of +hell; and braying spread from one town to another in such a way that the +men of the braying town are as easy to be known as blacks are to be known +from whites, and the unlucky joke has gone so far that several times the +scoffed have come out in arms and in a body to do battle with the +scoffers, and neither king nor rook, fear nor shame, can mend matters. +To-morrow or the day after, I believe, the men of my town, that is, of +the braying town, are going to take the field against another village two +leagues away from ours, one of those that persecute us most; and that we +may turn out well prepared I have bought these lances and halberds you +have seen. These are the curious things I told you I had to tell, and if +you don't think them so, I have got no others;" and with this the worthy +fellow brought his story to a close. + +Just at this moment there came in at the gate of the inn a man entirely +clad in chamois leather, hose, breeches, and doublet, who said in a loud +voice, "Senor host, have you room? Here's the divining ape and the show +of the Release of Melisendra just coming." + +"Ods body!" said the landlord, "why, it's Master Pedro! We're in for a +grand night!" I forgot to mention that the said Master Pedro had his left +eye and nearly half his cheek covered with a patch of green taffety, +showing that something ailed all that side. "Your worship is welcome, +Master Pedro," continued the landlord; "but where are the ape and the +show, for I don't see them?" "They are close at hand," said he in the +chamois leather, "but I came on first to know if there was any room." +"I'd make the Duke of Alva himself clear out to make room for Master +Pedro," said the landlord; "bring in the ape and the show; there's +company in the inn to-night that will pay to see that and the cleverness +of the ape." "So be it by all means," said the man with the patch; "I'll +lower the price, and be well satisfied if I only pay my expenses; and now +I'll go back and hurry on the cart with the ape and the show;" and with +this he went out of the inn. + +Don Quixote at once asked the landlord what this Master Pedro was, and +what was the show and what was the ape he had with him; which the +landlord replied, "This is a famous puppet-showman, who for some time +past has been going about this Mancha de Aragon, exhibiting a show of the +release of Melisendra by the famous Don Gaiferos, one of the best and +best-represented stories that have been seen in this part of the kingdom +for many a year; he has also with him an ape with the most extraordinary +gift ever seen in an ape or imagined in a human being; for if you ask him +anything, he listens attentively to the question, and then jumps on his +master's shoulder, and pressing close to his ear tells him the answer +which Master Pedro then delivers. He says a great deal more about things +past than about things to come; and though he does not always hit the +truth in every case, most times he is not far wrong, so that he makes us +fancy he has got the devil in him. He gets two reals for every question +if the ape answers; I mean if his master answers for him after he has +whispered into his ear; and so it is believed that this same Master Pedro +is very rich. He is a 'gallant man' as they say in Italy, and good +company, and leads the finest life in the world; talks more than six, +drinks more than a dozen, and all by his tongue, and his ape, and his +show." + +Master Pedro now came back, and in a cart followed the show and the +ape--a big one, without a tail and with buttocks as bare as felt, but not +vicious-looking. As soon as Don Quixote saw him, he asked him, "Can you +tell me, sir fortune-teller, what fish do we catch, and how will it be +with us? See, here are my two reals," and he bade Sancho give them to +Master Pedro; but he answered for the ape and said, "Senor, this animal +does not give any answer or information touching things that are to come; +of things past he knows something, and more or less of things present." + +"Gad," said Sancho, "I would not give a farthing to be told what's past +with me, for who knows that better than I do myself? And to pay for being +told what I know would be mighty foolish. But as you know things present, +here are my two reals, and tell me, most excellent sir ape, what is my +wife Teresa Panza doing now, and what is she diverting herself with?" + +Master Pedro refused to take the money, saying, "I will not receive +payment in advance or until the service has been first rendered;" and +then with his right hand he gave a couple of slaps on his left shoulder, +and with one spring the ape perched himself upon it, and putting his +mouth to his master's ear began chattering his teeth rapidly; and having +kept this up as long as one would be saying a credo, with another spring +he brought himself to the ground, and the same instant Master Pedro ran +in great haste and fell upon his knees before Don Quixote, and embracing +his legs exclaimed, "These legs do I embrace as I would embrace the two +pillars of Hercules, O illustrious reviver of knight-errantry, so long +consigned to oblivion! O never yet duly extolled knight, Don Quixote of +La Mancha, courage of the faint-hearted, prop of the tottering, arm of +the fallen, staff and counsel of all who are unfortunate!" + +Don Quixote was thunderstruck, Sancho astounded, the cousin staggered, +the page astonished, the man from the braying town agape, the landlord in +perplexity, and, in short, everyone amazed at the words of the +puppet-showman, who went on to say, "And thou, worthy Sancho Panza, the +best squire and squire to the best knight in the world! Be of good cheer, +for thy good wife Teresa is well, and she is at this moment hackling a +pound of flax; and more by token she has at her left hand a jug with a +broken spout that holds a good drop of wine, with which she solaces +herself at her work." + +"That I can well believe," said Sancho. "She is a lucky one, and if it +was not for her jealousy I would not change her for the giantess +Andandona, who by my master's account was a very clever and worthy woman; +my Teresa is one of those that won't let themselves want for anything, +though their heirs may have to pay for it." + +"Now I declare," said Don Quixote, "he who reads much and travels much +sees and knows a great deal. I say so because what amount of persuasion +could have persuaded me that there are apes in the world that can divine +as I have seen now with my own eyes? For I am that very Don Quixote of La +Mancha this worthy animal refers to, though he has gone rather too far in +my praise; but whatever I may be, I thank heaven that it has endowed me +with a tender and compassionate heart, always disposed to do good to all +and harm to none." + +"If I had money," said the page, "I would ask senor ape what will happen +me in the peregrination I am making." + +To this Master Pedro, who had by this time risen from Don Quixote's feet, +replied, "I have already said that this little beast gives no answer as +to the future; but if he did, not having money would be of no +consequence, for to oblige Senor Don Quixote, here present, I would give +up all the profits in the world. And now, because I have promised it, and +to afford him pleasure, I will set up my show and offer entertainment to +all who are in the inn, without any charge whatever." As soon as he heard +this, the landlord, delighted beyond measure, pointed out a place where +the show might be fixed, which was done at once. + +Don Quixote was not very well satisfied with the divinations of the ape, +as he did not think it proper that an ape should divine anything, either +past or future; so while Master Pedro was arranging the show, he retired +with Sancho into a corner of the stable, where, without being overheard +by anyone, he said to him, "Look here, Sancho, I have been seriously +thinking over this ape's extraordinary gift, and have come to the +conclusion that beyond doubt this Master Pedro, his master, has a pact, +tacit or express, with the devil." + +"If the packet is express from the devil," said Sancho, "it must be a +very dirty packet no doubt; but what good can it do Master Pedro to have +such packets?" + +"Thou dost not understand me, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "I only mean he +must have made some compact with the devil to infuse this power into the +ape, that he may get his living, and after he has grown rich he will give +him his soul, which is what the enemy of mankind wants; this I am led to +believe by observing that the ape only answers about things past or +present, and the devil's knowledge extends no further; for the future he +knows only by guesswork, and that not always; for it is reserved for God +alone to know the times and the seasons, and for him there is neither +past nor future; all is present. This being as it is, it is clear that +this ape speaks by the spirit of the devil; and I am astonished they have +not denounced him to the Holy Office, and put him to the question, and +forced it out of him by whose virtue it is that he divines; because it is +certain this ape is not an astrologer; neither his master nor he sets up, +or knows how to set up, those figures they call judiciary, which are now +so common in Spain that there is not a jade, or page, or old cobbler, +that will not undertake to set up a figure as readily as pick up a knave +of cards from the ground, bringing to nought the marvellous truth of the +science by their lies and ignorance. I know of a lady who asked one of +these figure schemers whether her little lap-dog would be in pup and +would breed, and how many and of what colour the little pups would be. To +which senor astrologer, after having set up his figure, made answer that +the bitch would be in pup, and would drop three pups, one green, another +bright red, and the third parti-coloured, provided she conceived between +eleven and twelve either of the day or night, and on a Monday or +Saturday; but as things turned out, two days after this the bitch died of +a surfeit, and senor planet-ruler had the credit all over the place of +being a most profound astrologer, as most of these planet-rulers have." + +"Still," said Sancho, "I would be glad if your worship would make Master +Pedro ask his ape whether what happened your worship in the cave of +Montesinos is true; for, begging your worship's pardon, I, for my part, +take it to have been all flam and lies, or at any rate something you +dreamt." + +"That may be," replied Don Quixote; "however, I will do what you suggest; +though I have my own scruples about it." + +At this point Master Pedro came up in quest of Don Quixote, to tell him +the show was now ready and to come and see it, for it was worth seeing. +Don Quixote explained his wish, and begged him to ask his ape at once to +tell him whether certain things which had happened to him in the cave of +Montesinos were dreams or realities, for to him they appeared to partake +of both. Upon this Master Pedro, without answering, went back to fetch +the ape, and, having placed it in front of Don Quixote and Sancho, said: +"See here, senor ape, this gentleman wishes to know whether certain +things which happened to him in the cave called the cave of Montesinos +were false or true." On his making the usual sign the ape mounted on his +left shoulder and seemed to whisper in his ear, and Master Pedro said at +once, "The ape says that the things you saw or that happened to you in +that cave are, part of them false, part true; and that he only knows this +and no more as regards this question; but if your worship wishes to know +more, on Friday next he will answer all that may be asked him, for his +virtue is at present exhausted, and will not return to him till Friday, +as he has said." + +"Did I not say, senor," said Sancho, "that I could not bring myself to +believe that all your worship said about the adventures in the cave was +true, or even the half of it?" + +"The course of events will tell, Sancho," replied Don Quixote; "time, +that discloses all things, leaves nothing that it does not drag into the +light of day, though it be buried in the bosom of the earth. But enough +of that for the present; let us go and see Master Pedro's show, for I am +sure there must be something novel in it." + +"Something!" said Master Pedro; "this show of mine has sixty thousand +novel things in it; let me tell you, Senor Don Quixote, it is one of the +best-worth-seeing things in the world this day; but operibus credite et +non verbis, and now let's get to work, for it is growing late, and we +have a great deal to do and to say and show." + +Don Quixote and Sancho obeyed him and went to where the show was already +put up and uncovered, set all around with lighted wax tapers which made +it look splendid and bright. When they came to it Master Pedro ensconced +himself inside it, for it was he who had to work the puppets, and a boy, +a servant of his, posted himself outside to act as showman and explain +the mysteries of the exhibition, having a wand in his hand to point to +the figures as they came out. And so, all who were in the inn being +arranged in front of the show, some of them standing, and Don Quixote, +Sancho, the page, and cousin, accommodated with the best places, the +interpreter began to say what he will hear or see who reads or hears the +next chapter. + +Chapter XXVI. - +Wherein is continued the droll adventure of the puppet-showman, together +with other things in truth right good + +All were silent, Tyrians and Trojans; I mean all who were watching the +show were hanging on the lips of the interpreter of its wonders, when +drums and trumpets were heard to sound inside it and cannon to go off. +The noise was soon over, and then the boy lifted up his voice and said, +"This true story which is here represented to your worships is taken word +for word from the French chronicles and from the Spanish ballads that are +in everybody's mouth, and in the mouth of the boys about the streets. Its +subject is the release by Senor Don Gaiferos of his wife Melisendra, when +a captive in Spain at the hands of the Moors in the city of Sansuena, for +so they called then what is now called Saragossa; and there you may see +how Don Gaiferos is playing at the tables, just as they sing it-- + +At tables playing Don Gaiferos sits, +For Melisendra is forgotten now. + +And that personage who appears there with a crown on his head and a +sceptre in his hand is the Emperor Charlemagne, the supposed father of +Melisendra, who, angered to see his son-in-law's inaction and unconcern, +comes in to chide him; and observe with what vehemence and energy he +chides him, so that you would fancy he was going to give him half a dozen +raps with his sceptre; and indeed there are authors who say he did give +them, and sound ones too; and after having said a great deal to him about +imperilling his honour by not effecting the release of his wife, he said, +so the tale runs, + +Enough I've said, see to it now. + +Observe, too, how the emperor turns away, and leaves Don Gaiferos fuming; +and you see now how in a burst of anger, he flings the table and the +board far from him and calls in haste for his armour, and asks his cousin +Don Roland for the loan of his sword, Durindana, and how Don Roland +refuses to lend it, offering him his company in the difficult enterprise +he is undertaking; but he, in his valour and anger, will not accept it, +and says that he alone will suffice to rescue his wife, even though she +were imprisoned deep in the centre of the earth, and with this he retires +to arm himself and set out on his journey at once. Now let your worships +turn your eyes to that tower that appears there, which is supposed to be +one of the towers of the alcazar of Saragossa, now called the Aljaferia; +that lady who appears on that balcony dressed in Moorish fashion is the +peerless Melisendra, for many a time she used to gaze from thence upon +the road to France, and seek consolation in her captivity by thinking of +Paris and her husband. Observe, too, a new incident which now occurs, +such as, perhaps, never was seen. Do you not see that Moor, who silently +and stealthily, with his finger on his lip, approaches Melisendra from +behind? Observe now how he prints a kiss upon her lips, and what a hurry +she is in to spit, and wipe them with the white sleeve of her smock, and +how she bewails herself, and tears her fair hair as though it were to +blame for the wrong. Observe, too, that the stately Moor who is in that +corridor is King Marsilio of Sansuena, who, having seen the Moor's +insolence, at once orders him (though his kinsman and a great favourite +of his) to be seized and given two hundred lashes, while carried through +the streets of the city according to custom, with criers going before him +and officers of justice behind; and here you see them come out to execute +the sentence, although the offence has been scarcely committed; for among +the Moors there are no indictments nor remands as with us." + +Here Don Quixote called out, "Child, child, go straight on with your +story, and don't run into curves and slants, for to establish a fact +clearly there is need of a great deal of proof and confirmation;" and +said Master Pedro from within, "Boy, stick to your text and do as the +gentleman bids you; it's the best plan; keep to your plain song, and +don't attempt harmonies, for they are apt to break down from being over +fine." + +"I will," said the boy, and he went on to say, "This figure that you see +here on horseback, covered with a Gascon cloak, is Don Gaiferos himself, +whom his wife, now avenged of the insult of the amorous Moor, and taking +her stand on the balcony of the tower with a calmer and more tranquil +countenance, has perceived without recognising him; and she addresses her +husband, supposing him to be some traveller, and holds with him all that +conversation and colloquy in the ballad that runs-- + +If you, sir knight, to France are bound, +Oh! for Gaiferos ask-- + +which I do not repeat here because prolixity begets disgust; suffice it +to observe how Don Gaiferos discovers himself, and that by her joyful +gestures Melisendra shows us she has recognised him; and what is more, we +now see she lowers herself from the balcony to place herself on the +haunches of her good husband's horse. But ah! unhappy lady, the edge of +her petticoat has caught on one of the bars of the balcony and she is +left hanging in the air, unable to reach the ground. But you see how +compassionate heaven sends aid in our sorest need; Don Gaiferos advances, +and without minding whether the rich petticoat is torn or not, he seizes +her and by force brings her to the ground, and then with one jerk places +her on the haunches of his horse, astraddle like a man, and bids her hold +on tight and clasp her arms round his neck, crossing them on his breast +so as not to fall, for the lady Melisendra was not used to that style of +riding. You see, too, how the neighing of the horse shows his +satisfaction with the gallant and beautiful burden he bears in his lord +and lady. You see how they wheel round and quit the city, and in joy and +gladness take the road to Paris. Go in peace, O peerless pair of true +lovers! May you reach your longed-for fatherland in safety, and may +fortune interpose no impediment to your prosperous journey; may the eyes +of your friends and kinsmen behold you enjoying in peace and tranquillity +the remaining days of your life--and that they may be as many as those of +Nestor!" + +Here Master Pedro called out again and said, "Simplicity, boy! None of +your high flights; all affectation is bad." + +The interpreter made no answer, but went on to say, "There was no want of +idle eyes, that see everything, to see Melisendra come down and mount, +and word was brought to King Marsilio, who at once gave orders to sound +the alarm; and see what a stir there is, and how the city is drowned with +the sound of the bells pealing in the towers of all the mosques." + +"Nay, nay," said Don Quixote at this; "on that point of the bells Master +Pedro is very inaccurate, for bells are not in use among the Moors; only +kettledrums, and a kind of small trumpet somewhat like our clarion; to +ring bells this way in Sansuena is unquestionably a great absurdity." + +On hearing this, Master Pedro stopped ringing, and said, "Don't look into +trifles, Senor Don Quixote, or want to have things up to a pitch of +perfection that is out of reach. Are there not almost every day a +thousand comedies represented all round us full of thousands of +inaccuracies and absurdities, and, for all that, they have a successful +run, and are listened to not only with applause, but with admiration and +all the rest of it? Go on, boy, and don't mind; for so long as I fill my +pouch, no matter if I show as many inaccuracies as there are motes in a +sunbeam." + +"True enough," said Don Quixote; and the boy went on: "See what a +numerous and glittering crowd of horsemen issues from the city in pursuit +of the two faithful lovers, what a blowing of trumpets there is, what +sounding of horns, what beating of drums and tabors; I fear me they will +overtake them and bring them back tied to the tail of their own horse, +which would be a dreadful sight." + +Don Quixote, however, seeing such a swarm of Moors and hearing such a +din, thought it would be right to aid the fugitives, and standing up he +exclaimed in a loud voice, "Never, while I live, will I permit foul play +to be practised in my presence on such a famous knight and fearless lover +as Don Gaiferos. Halt! ill-born rabble, follow him not nor pursue him, or +ye will have to reckon with me in battle!" and suiting the action to the +word, he drew his sword, and with one bound placed himself close to the +show, and with unexampled rapidity and fury began to shower down blows on +the puppet troop of Moors, knocking over some, decapitating others, +maiming this one and demolishing that; and among many more he delivered +one down stroke which, if Master Pedro had not ducked, made himself +small, and got out of the way, would have sliced off his head as easily +as if it had been made of almond-paste. Master Pedro kept shouting, "Hold +hard! Senor Don Quixote! can't you see they're not real Moors you're +knocking down and killing and destroying, but only little pasteboard +figures! Look--sinner that I am!--how you're wrecking and ruining all +that I'm worth!" But in spite of this, Don Quixote did not leave off +discharging a continuous rain of cuts, slashes, downstrokes, and +backstrokes, and at length, in less than the space of two credos, he +brought the whole show to the ground, with all its fittings and figures +shivered and knocked to pieces, King Marsilio badly wounded, and the +Emperor Charlemagne with his crown and head split in two. The whole +audience was thrown into confusion, the ape fled to the roof of the inn, +the cousin was frightened, and even Sancho Panza himself was in mighty +fear, for, as he swore after the storm was over, he had never seen his +master in such a furious passion. + +The complete destruction of the show being thus accomplished, Don Quixote +became a little calmer, said, "I wish I had here before me now all those +who do not or will not believe how useful knights-errant are in the +world; just think, if I had not been here present, what would have become +of the brave Don Gaiferos and the fair Melisendra! Depend upon it, by +this time those dogs would have overtaken them and inflicted some outrage +upon them. So, then, long live knight-errantry beyond everything living +on earth this day!" + +"Let it live, and welcome," said Master Pedro at this in a feeble voice, +"and let me die, for I am so unfortunate that I can say with King Don +Rodrigo-- + +poem{ + +Yesterday was I lord of Spain +To-day I've not a turret left +That I may call mine own. + +}poem + +Not half an hour, nay, barely a minute ago, I saw myself lord of kings +and emperors, with my stables filled with countless horses, and my trunks +and bags with gay dresses unnumbered; and now I find myself ruined and +laid low, destitute and a beggar, and above all without my ape, for, by +my faith, my teeth will have to sweat for it before I have him caught; +and all through the reckless fury of sir knight here, who, they say, +protects the fatherless, and rights wrongs, and does other charitable +deeds; but whose generous intentions have been found wanting in my case +only, blessed and praised be the highest heavens! Verily, knight of the +rueful figure he must be to have disfigured mine." + +Sancho Panza was touched by Master Pedro's words, and said to him, "Don't +weep and lament, Master Pedro; you break my heart; let me tell you my +master, Don Quixote, is so catholic and scrupulous a Christian that, if +he can make out that he has done you any wrong, he will own it, and be +willing to pay for it and make it good, and something over and above." + +"Only let Senor Don Quixote pay me for some part of the work he has +destroyed," said Master Pedro, "and I would be content, and his worship +would ease his conscience, for he cannot be saved who keeps what is +another's against the owner's will, and makes no restitution." + +"That is true," said Don Quixote; "but at present I am not aware that I +have got anything of yours, Master Pedro." + +"What!" returned Master Pedro; "and these relics lying here on the bare +hard ground--what scattered and shattered them but the invincible +strength of that mighty arm? And whose were the bodies they belonged to +but mine? And what did I get my living by but by them?" + +"Now am I fully convinced," said Don Quixote, "of what I had many a time +before believed; that the enchanters who persecute me do nothing more +than put figures like these before my eyes, and then change and turn them +into what they please. In truth and earnest, I assure you gentlemen who +now hear me, that to me everything that has taken place here seemed to +take place literally, that Melisendra was Melisendra, Don Gaiferos Don +Gaiferos, Marsilio Marsilio, and Charlemagne Charlemagne. That was why my +anger was roused; and to be faithful to my calling as a knight-errant I +sought to give aid and protection to those who fled, and with this good +intention I did what you have seen. If the result has been the opposite +of what I intended, it is no fault of mine, but of those wicked beings +that persecute me; but, for all that, I am willing to condemn myself in +costs for this error of mine, though it did not proceed from malice; let +Master Pedro see what he wants for the spoiled figures, for I agree to +pay it at once in good and current money of Castile." + +Master Pedro made him a bow, saying, "I expected no less of the rare +Christianity of the valiant Don Quixote of La Mancha, true helper and +protector of all destitute and needy vagabonds; master landlord here and +the great Sancho Panza shall be the arbitrators and appraisers between +your worship and me of what these dilapidated figures are worth or may be +worth." + +The landlord and Sancho consented, and then Master Pedro picked up from +the ground King Marsilio of Saragossa with his head off, and said, "Here +you see how impossible it is to restore this king to his former state, so +I think, saving your better judgments, that for his death, decease, and +demise, four reals and a half may be given me." + +"Proceed," said Don Quixote. + +"Well then, for this cleavage from top to bottom," continued Master +Pedro, taking up the split Emperor Charlemagne, "it would not be much if +I were to ask five reals and a quarter." + +"It's not little," said Sancho. + +"Nor is it much," said the landlord; "make it even, and say five reals." + +"Let him have the whole five and a quarter," said Don Quixote; "for the +sum total of this notable disaster does not stand on a quarter more or +less; and make an end of it quickly, Master Pedro, for it's getting on to +supper-time, and I have some hints of hunger." + +"For this figure," said Master Pedro, "that is without a nose, and wants +an eye, and is the fair Melisendra, I ask, and I am reasonable in my +charge, two reals and twelve maravedis." + +"The very devil must be in it," said Don Quixote, "if Melisendra and her +husband are not by this time at least on the French border, for the horse +they rode on seemed to me to fly rather than gallop; so you needn't try +to sell me the cat for the hare, showing me here a noseless Melisendra +when she is now, may be, enjoying herself at her ease with her husband in +France. God help every one to his own, Master Pedro, and let us all +proceed fairly and honestly; and now go on." + +Master Pedro, perceiving that Don Quixote was beginning to wander, and +return to his original fancy, was not disposed to let him escape, so he +said to him, "This cannot be Melisendra, but must be one of the damsels +that waited on her; so if I'm given sixty maravedis for her, I'll be +content and sufficiently paid." + +And so he went on, putting values on ever so many more smashed figures, +which, after the two arbitrators had adjusted them to the satisfaction of +both parties, came to forty reals and three-quarters; and over and above +this sum, which Sancho at once disbursed, Master Pedro asked for two +reals for his trouble in catching the ape. + +"Let him have them, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "not to catch the ape, but +to get drunk; and two hundred would I give this minute for the good news, +to anyone who could tell me positively, that the lady Dona Melisandra and +Senor Don Gaiferos were now in France and with their own people." + +"No one could tell us that better than my ape," said Master Pedro; "but +there's no devil that could catch him now; I suspect, however, that +affection and hunger will drive him to come looking for me to-night; but +to-morrow will soon be here and we shall see." + +In short, the puppet-show storm passed off, and all supped in peace and +good fellowship at Don Quixote's expense, for he was the height of +generosity. Before it was daylight the man with the lances and halberds +took his departure, and soon after daybreak the cousin and the page came +to bid Don Quixote farewell, the former returning home, the latter +resuming his journey, towards which, to help him, Don Quixote gave him +twelve reals. Master Pedro did not care to engage in any more palaver +with Don Quixote, whom he knew right well; so he rose before the sun, and +having got together the remains of his show and caught his ape, he too +went off to seek his adventures. The landlord, who did not know Don +Quixote, was as much astonished at his mad freaks as at his generosity. +To conclude, Sancho, by his master's orders, paid him very liberally, and +taking leave of him they quitted the inn at about eight in the morning +and took to the road, where we will leave them to pursue their journey, +for this is necessary in order to allow certain other matters to be set +forth, which are required to clear up this famous history. + +Chapter XXVII. - +Wherein it is shown who master pedro and his ape were, together with the +mishap Don Quixote had in the braying adventure, which he did not +conclude as he would have liked or as he had expected + +Cide Hamete, the chronicler of this great history, begins this chapter +with these words, "I swear as a Catholic Christian;" with regard to which +his translator says that Cide Hamete's swearing as a Catholic Christian, +he being--as no doubt he was--a Moor, only meant that, just as a Catholic +Christian taking an oath swears, or ought to swear, what is true, and +tell the truth in what he avers, so he was telling the truth, as much as +if he swore as a Catholic Christian, in all he chose to write about +Quixote, especially in declaring who Master Pedro was and what was the +divining ape that astonished all the villages with his divinations. He +says, then, that he who has read the First Part of this history will +remember well enough the Gines de Pasamonte whom, with other galley +slaves, Don Quixote set free in the Sierra Morena: a kindness for which +he afterwards got poor thanks and worse payment from that evil-minded, +ill-conditioned set. This Gines de Pasamonte--Don Ginesillo de Parapilla, +Don Quixote called him--it was that stole Dapple from Sancho Panza; +which, because by the fault of the printers neither the how nor the when +was stated in the First Part, has been a puzzle to a good many people, +who attribute to the bad memory of the author what was the error of the +press. In fact, however, Gines stole him while Sancho Panza was asleep on +his back, adopting the plan and device that Brunello had recourse to when +he stole Sacripante's horse from between his legs at the siege of +Albracca; and, as has been told, Sancho afterwards recovered him. This +Gines, then, afraid of being caught by the officers of justice, who were +looking for him to punish him for his numberless rascalities and offences +(which were so many and so great that he himself wrote a big book giving +an account of them), resolved to shift his quarters into the kingdom of +Aragon, and cover up his left eye, and take up the trade of a +puppet-showman; for this, as well as juggling, he knew how to practise to +perfection. From some released Christians returning from Barbary, it so +happened, he bought the ape, which he taught to mount upon his shoulder +on his making a certain sign, and to whisper, or seem to do so, in his +ear. Thus prepared, before entering any village whither he was bound with +his show and his ape, he used to inform himself at the nearest village, +or from the most likely person he could find, as to what particular +things had happened there, and to whom; and bearing them well in mind, +the first thing he did was to exhibit his show, sometimes one story, +sometimes another, but all lively, amusing, and familiar. As soon as the +exhibition was over he brought forward the accomplishments of his ape, +assuring the public that he divined all the past and the present, but as +to the future he had no skill. For each question answered he asked two +reals, and for some he made a reduction, just as he happened to feel the +pulse of the questioners; and when now and then he came to houses where +things that he knew of had happened to the people living there, even if +they did not ask him a question, not caring to pay for it, he would make +the sign to the ape and then declare that it had said so and so, which +fitted the case exactly. In this way he acquired a prodigious name and +all ran after him; on other occasions, being very crafty, he would answer +in such a way that the answers suited the questions; and as no one +cross-questioned him or pressed him to tell how his ape divined, he made +fools of them all and filled his pouch. The instant he entered the inn he +knew Don Quixote and Sancho, and with that knowledge it was easy for him +to astonish them and all who were there; but it would have cost him dear +had Don Quixote brought down his hand a little lower when he cut off King +Marsilio's head and destroyed all his horsemen, as related in the +preceeding chapter. + +So much for Master Pedro and his ape; and now to return to Don Quixote of +La Mancha. After he had left the inn he determined to visit, first of +all, the banks of the Ebro and that neighbourhood, before entering the +city of Saragossa, for the ample time there was still to spare before the +jousts left him enough for all. With this object in view he followed the +road and travelled along it for two days, without meeting any adventure +worth committing to writing until on the third day, as he was ascending a +hill, he heard a great noise of drums, trumpets, and musket-shots. At +first he imagined some regiment of soldiers was passing that way, and to +see them he spurred Rocinante and mounted the hill. On reaching the top +he saw at the foot of it over two hundred men, as it seemed to him, armed +with weapons of various sorts, lances, crossbows, partisans, halberds, +and pikes, and a few muskets and a great many bucklers. He descended the +slope and approached the band near enough to see distinctly the flags, +make out the colours and distinguish the devices they bore, especially +one on a standard or ensign of white satin, on which there was painted in +a very life-like style an ass like a little sard, with its head up, its +mouth open and its tongue out, as if it were in the act and attitude of +braying; and round it were inscribed in large characters these two lines-- + +They did not bray in vain, +Our alcaldes twain. + +From this device Don Quixote concluded that these people must be from the +braying town, and he said so to Sancho, explaining to him what was +written on the standard. At the same time he observed that the man who +had told them about the matter was wrong in saying that the two who +brayed were regidors, for according to the lines of the standard they +were alcaldes. To which Sancho replied, "Senor, there's nothing to stick +at in that, for maybe the regidors who brayed then came to be alcaldes of +their town afterwards, and so they may go by both titles; moreover, it +has nothing to do with the truth of the story whether the brayers were +alcaldes or regidors, provided at any rate they did bray; for an alcalde +is just as likely to bray as a regidor." They perceived, in short, +clearly that the town which had been twitted had turned out to do battle +with some other that had jeered it more than was fair or neighbourly. + +Don Quixote proceeded to join them, not a little to Sancho's uneasiness, +for he never relished mixing himself up in expeditions of that sort. The +members of the troop received him into the midst of them, taking him to +be some one who was on their side. Don Quixote, putting up his visor, +advanced with an easy bearing and demeanour to the standard with the ass, +and all the chief men of the army gathered round him to look at him, +staring at him with the usual amazement that everybody felt on seeing him +for the first time. Don Quixote, seeing them examining him so +attentively, and that none of them spoke to him or put any question to +him, determined to take advantage of their silence; so, breaking his own, +he lifted up his voice and said, "Worthy sirs, I entreat you as earnestly +as I can not to interrupt an argument I wish to address to you, until you +find it displeases or wearies you; and if that come to pass, on the +slightest hint you give me I will put a seal upon my lips and a gag upon +my tongue." + +They all bade him say what he liked, for they would listen to him +willingly. + +With this permission Don Quixote went on to say, "I, sirs, am a +knight-errant whose calling is that of arms, and whose profession is to +protect those who require protection, and give help to such as stand in +need of it. Some days ago I became acquainted with your misfortune and +the cause which impels you to take up arms again and again to revenge +yourselves upon your enemies; and having many times thought over your +business in my mind, I find that, according to the laws of combat, you +are mistaken in holding yourselves insulted; for a private individual +cannot insult an entire community; unless it be by defying it +collectively as a traitor, because he cannot tell who in particular is +guilty of the treason for which he defies it. Of this we have an example +in Don Diego Ordonez de Lara, who defied the whole town of Zamora, +because he did not know that Vellido Dolfos alone had committed the +treachery of slaying his king; and therefore he defied them all, and the +vengeance and the reply concerned all; though, to be sure, Senor Don +Diego went rather too far, indeed very much beyond the limits of a +defiance; for he had no occasion to defy the dead, or the waters, or the +fishes, or those yet unborn, and all the rest of it as set forth; but let +that pass, for when anger breaks out there's no father, governor, or +bridle to check the tongue. The case being, then, that no one person can +insult a kingdom, province, city, state, or entire community, it is clear +there is no reason for going out to avenge the defiance of such an +insult, inasmuch as it is not one. A fine thing it would be if the people +of the clock town were to be at loggerheads every moment with everyone +who called them by that name,--or the Cazoleros, Berengeneros, +Ballenatos, Jaboneros, or the bearers of all the other names and titles +that are always in the mouth of the boys and common people! It would be a +nice business indeed if all these illustrious cities were to take huff +and revenge themselves and go about perpetually making trombones of their +swords in every petty quarrel! No, no; God forbid! There are four things +for which sensible men and well-ordered States ought to take up arms, +draw their swords, and risk their persons, lives, and properties. The +first is to defend the Catholic faith; the second, to defend one's life, +which is in accordance with natural and divine law; the third, in defence +of one's honour, family, and property; the fourth, in the service of +one's king in a just war; and if to these we choose to add a fifth (which +may be included in the second), in defence of one's country. To these +five, as it were capital causes, there may be added some others that may +be just and reasonable, and make it a duty to take up arms; but to take +them up for trifles and things to laugh at and he amused by rather than +offended, looks as though he who did so was altogether wanting in common +sense. Moreover, to take an unjust revenge (and there cannot be any just +one) is directly opposed to the sacred law that we acknowledge, wherein +we are commanded to do good to our enemies and to love them that hate us; +a command which, though it seems somewhat difficult to obey, is only so +to those who have in them less of God than of the world, and more of the +flesh than of the spirit; for Jesus Christ, God and true man, who never +lied, and could not and cannot lie, said, as our law-giver, that his yoke +was easy and his burden light; he would not, therefore, have laid any +command upon us that it was impossible to obey. Thus, sirs, you are bound +to keep quiet by human and divine law." + +"The devil take me," said Sancho to himself at this, "but this master of +mine is a tologian; or, if not, faith, he's as like one as one egg is +like another." + +Don Quixote stopped to take breath, and, observing that silence was still +preserved, had a mind to continue his discourse, and would have done so +had not Sancho interposed with his smartness; for he, seeing his master +pause, took the lead, saying, "My lord Don Quixote of La Mancha, who once +was called the Knight of the Rueful Countenance, but now is called the +Knight of the Lions, is a gentleman of great discretion who knows Latin +and his mother tongue like a bachelor, and in everything that he deals +with or advises proceeds like a good soldier, and has all the laws and +ordinances of what they call combat at his fingers' ends; so you have +nothing to do but to let yourselves be guided by what he says, and on my +head be it if it is wrong. Besides which, you have been told that it is +folly to take offence at merely hearing a bray. I remember when I was a +boy I brayed as often as I had a fancy, without anyone hindering me, and +so elegantly and naturally that when I brayed all the asses in the town +would bray; but I was none the less for that the son of my parents who +were greatly respected; and though I was envied because of the gift by +more than one of the high and mighty ones of the town, I did not care two +farthings for it; and that you may see I am telling the truth, wait a bit +and listen, for this art, like swimming, once learnt is never forgotten;" +and then, taking hold of his nose, he began to bray so vigorously that +all the valleys around rang again. + +One of those, however, that stood near him, fancying he was mocking them, +lifted up a long staff he had in his hand and smote him such a blow with +it that Sancho dropped helpless to the ground. Don Quixote, seeing him so +roughly handled, attacked the man who had struck him lance in hand, but +so many thrust themselves between them that he could not avenge him. Far +from it, finding a shower of stones rained upon him, and crossbows and +muskets unnumbered levelled at him, he wheeled Rocinante round and, as +fast as his best gallop could take him, fled from the midst of them, +commending himself to God with all his heart to deliver him out of this +peril, in dread every step of some ball coming in at his back and coming +out at his breast, and every minute drawing his breath to see whether it +had gone from him. The members of the band, however, were satisfied with +seeing him take to flight, and did not fire on him. They put up Sancho, +scarcely restored to his senses, on his ass, and let him go after his +master; not that he was sufficiently in his wits to guide the beast, but +Dapple followed the footsteps of Rocinante, from whom he could not remain +a moment separated. Don Quixote having got some way off looked back, and +seeing Sancho coming, waited for him, as he perceived that no one +followed him. The men of the troop stood their ground till night, and as +the enemy did not come out to battle, they returned to their town +exulting; and had they been aware of the ancient custom of the Greeks, +they would have erected a trophy on the spot. + +Chapter XXVIII. - +Of matters that Benengeli says he who reads them will know, if he reads +them with attention + +When the brave man flees, treachery is manifest and it is for wise men to +reserve themselves for better occasions. This proved to be the case with +Don Quixote, who, giving way before the fury of the townsfolk and the +hostile intentions of the angry troop, took to flight and, without a +thought of Sancho or the danger in which he was leaving him, retreated to +such a distance as he thought made him safe. Sancho, lying across his +ass, followed him, as has been said, and at length came up, having by +this time recovered his senses, and on joining him let himself drop off +Dapple at Rocinante's feet, sore, bruised, and belaboured. Don Quixote +dismounted to examine his wounds, but finding him whole from head to +foot, he said to him, angrily enough, "In an evil hour didst thou take to +braying, Sancho! Where hast thou learned that it is well done to mention +the rope in the house of the man that has been hanged? To the music of +brays what harmonies couldst thou expect to get but cudgels? Give thanks +to God, Sancho, that they signed the cross on thee just now with a stick, +and did not mark thee per signum crucis with a cutlass." + +"I'm not equal to answering," said Sancho, "for I feel as if I was +speaking through my shoulders; let us mount and get away from this; I'll +keep from braying, but not from saying that knights-errant fly and leave +their good squires to be pounded like privet, or made meal of at the +hands of their enemies." + +"He does not fly who retires," returned Don Quixote; "for I would have +thee know, Sancho, that the valour which is not based upon a foundation +of prudence is called rashness, and the exploits of the rash man are to +be attributed rather to good fortune than to courage; and so I own that I +retired, but not that I fled; and therein I have followed the example of +many valiant men who have reserved themselves for better times; the +histories are full of instances of this, but as it would not be any good +to thee or pleasure to me, I will not recount them to thee now." + +Sancho was by this time mounted with the help of Don Quixote, who then +himself mounted Rocinante, and at a leisurely pace they proceeded to take +shelter in a grove which was in sight about a quarter of a league off. +Every now and then Sancho gave vent to deep sighs and dismal groans, and +on Don Quixote asking him what caused such acute suffering, he replied +that, from the end of his back-bone up to the nape of his neck, he was so +sore that it nearly drove him out of his senses. + +"The cause of that soreness," said Don Quixote, "will be, no doubt, that +the staff wherewith they smote thee being a very long one, it caught thee +all down the back, where all the parts that are sore are situated, and +had it reached any further thou wouldst be sorer still." + +"By God," said Sancho, "your worship has relieved me of a great doubt, +and cleared up the point for me in elegant style! Body o' me! is the +cause of my soreness such a mystery that there's any need to tell me I am +sore everywhere the staff hit me? If it was my ankles that pained me +there might be something in going divining why they did, but it is not +much to divine that I'm sore where they thrashed me. By my faith, master +mine, the ills of others hang by a hair; every day I am discovering more +and more how little I have to hope for from keeping company with your +worship; for if this time you have allowed me to be drubbed, the next +time, or a hundred times more, we'll have the blanketings of the other +day over again, and all the other pranks which, if they have fallen on my +shoulders now, will be thrown in my teeth by-and-by. I would do a great +deal better (if I was not an ignorant brute that will never do any good +all my life), I would do a great deal better, I say, to go home to my +wife and children and support them and bring them up on what God may +please to give me, instead of following your worship along roads that +lead nowhere and paths that are none at all, with little to drink and +less to eat. And then when it comes to sleeping! Measure out seven feet +on the earth, brother squire, and if that's not enough for you, take as +many more, for you may have it all your own way and stretch yourself to +your heart's content. Oh that I could see burnt and turned to ashes the +first man that meddled with knight-errantry or at any rate the first who +chose to be squire to such fools as all the knights-errant of past times +must have been! Of those of the present day I say nothing, because, as +your worship is one of them, I respect them, and because I know your +worship knows a point more than the devil in all you say and think." + +"I would lay a good wager with you, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that now +that you are talking on without anyone to stop you, you don't feel a pain +in your whole body. Talk away, my son, say whatever comes into your head +or mouth, for so long as you feel no pain, the irritation your +impertinences give me will be a pleasure to me; and if you are so anxious +to go home to your wife and children, God forbid that I should prevent +you; you have money of mine; see how long it is since we left our village +this third time, and how much you can and ought to earn every month, and +pay yourself out of your own hand." + +"When I worked for Tom Carrasco, the father of the bachelor Samson +Carrasco that your worship knows," replied Sancho, "I used to earn two +ducats a month besides my food; I can't tell what I can earn with your +worship, though I know a knight-errant's squire has harder times of it +than he who works for a farmer; for after all, we who work for farmers, +however much we toil all day, at the worst, at night, we have our olla +supper and sleep in a bed, which I have not slept in since I have been in +your worship's service, if it wasn't the short time we were in Don Diego +de Miranda's house, and the feast I had with the skimmings I took off +Camacho's pots, and what I ate, drank, and slept in Basilio's house; all +the rest of the time I have been sleeping on the hard ground under the +open sky, exposed to what they call the inclemencies of heaven, keeping +life in me with scraps of cheese and crusts of bread, and drinking water +either from the brooks or from the springs we come to on these by-paths +we travel." + +"I own, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that all thou sayest is true; how +much, thinkest thou, ought I to give thee over and above what Tom +Carrasco gave thee?" + +"I think," said Sancho, "that if your worship was to add on two reals a +month I'd consider myself well paid; that is, as far as the wages of my +labour go; but to make up to me for your worship's pledge and promise to +me to give me the government of an island, it would be fair to add six +reals more, making thirty in all." + +"Very good," said Don Quixote; "it is twenty-five days since we left our +village, so reckon up, Sancho, according to the wages you have made out +for yourself, and see how much I owe you in proportion, and pay yourself, +as I said before, out of your own hand." + +"O body o' me!" said Sancho, "but your worship is very much out in that +reckoning; for when it comes to the promise of the island we must count +from the day your worship promised it to me to this present hour we are +at now." + +"Well, how long is it, Sancho, since I promised it to you?" said Don +Quixote. + +"If I remember rightly," said Sancho, "it must be over twenty years, +three days more or less." + +Don Quixote gave himself a great slap on the forehead and began to laugh +heartily, and said he, "Why, I have not been wandering, either in the +Sierra Morena or in the whole course of our sallies, but barely two +months, and thou sayest, Sancho, that it is twenty years since I promised +thee the island. I believe now thou wouldst have all the money thou hast +of mine go in thy wages. If so, and if that be thy pleasure, I give it to +thee now, once and for all, and much good may it do thee, for so long as +I see myself rid of such a good-for-nothing squire I'll be glad to be +left a pauper without a rap. But tell me, thou perverter of the squirely +rules of knight-errantry, where hast thou ever seen or read that any +knight-errant's squire made terms with his lord, 'you must give me so +much a month for serving you'? Plunge, scoundrel, rogue, monster--for +such I take thee to be--plunge, I say, into the mare magnum of their +histories; and if thou shalt find that any squire ever said or thought +what thou hast said now, I will let thee nail it on my forehead, and give +me, over and above, four sound slaps in the face. Turn the rein, or the +halter, of thy Dapple, and begone home; for one single step further thou +shalt not make in my company. O bread thanklessly received! O promises +ill-bestowed! O man more beast than human being! Now, when I was about to +raise thee to such a position, that, in spite of thy wife, they would +call thee 'my lord,' thou art leaving me? Thou art going now when I had a +firm and fixed intention of making thee lord of the best island in the +world? Well, as thou thyself hast said before now, honey is not for the +mouth of the ass. Ass thou art, ass thou wilt be, and ass thou wilt end +when the course of thy life is run; for I know it will come to its close +before thou dost perceive or discern that thou art a beast." + +Sancho regarded Don Quixote earnestly while he was giving him this +rating, and was so touched by remorse that the tears came to his eyes, +and in a piteous and broken voice he said to him, "Master mine, I confess +that, to be a complete ass, all I want is a tail; if your worship will +only fix one on to me, I'll look on it as rightly placed, and I'll serve +you as an ass all the remaining days of my life. Forgive me and have pity +on my folly, and remember I know but little, and, if I talk much, it's +more from infirmity than malice; but he who sins and mends commends +himself to God." + +"I should have been surprised, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "if thou hadst +not introduced some bit of a proverb into thy speech. Well, well, I +forgive thee, provided thou dost mend and not show thyself in future so +fond of thine own interest, but try to be of good cheer and take heart, +and encourage thyself to look forward to the fulfillment of my promises, +which, by being delayed, does not become impossible." + +Sancho said he would do so, and keep up his heart as best he could. They +then entered the grove, and Don Quixote settled himself at the foot of an +elm, and Sancho at that of a beech, for trees of this kind and others +like them always have feet but no hands. Sancho passed the night in pain, +for with the evening dews the blow of the staff made itself felt all the +more. Don Quixote passed it in his never-failing meditations; but, for +all that, they had some winks of sleep, and with the appearance of +daylight they pursued their journey in quest of the banks of the famous +Ebro, where that befell them which will be told in the following chapter. + +Chapter XXIX. - +Of the famous adventure of the enchanted bark + +By stages as already described or left undescribed, two days after +quitting the grove Don Quixote and Sancho reached the river Ebro, and the +sight of it was a great delight to Don Quixote as he contemplated and +gazed upon the charms of its banks, the clearness of its stream, the +gentleness of its current and the abundance of its crystal waters; and +the pleasant view revived a thousand tender thoughts in his mind. Above +all, he dwelt upon what he had seen in the cave of Montesinos; for though +Master Pedro's ape had told him that of those things part was true, part +false, he clung more to their truth than to their falsehood, the very +reverse of Sancho, who held them all to be downright lies. + +As they were thus proceeding, then, they discovered a small boat, without +oars or any other gear, that lay at the water's edge tied to the stem of +a tree growing on the bank. Don Quixote looked all round, and seeing +nobody, at once, without more ado, dismounted from Rocinante and bade +Sancho get down from Dapple and tie both beasts securely to the trunk of +a poplar or willow that stood there. Sancho asked him the reason of this +sudden dismounting and tying. Don Quixote made answer, "Thou must know, +Sancho, that this bark is plainly, and without the possibility of any +alternative, calling and inviting me to enter it, and in it go to give +aid to some knight or other person of distinction in need of it, who is +no doubt in some sore strait; for this is the way of the books of +chivalry and of the enchanters who figure and speak in them. When a +knight is involved in some difficulty from which he cannot be delivered +save by the hand of another knight, though they may be at a distance of +two or three thousand leagues or more one from the other, they either +take him up on a cloud, or they provide a bark for him to get into, and +in less than the twinkling of an eye they carry him where they will and +where his help is required; and so, Sancho, this bark is placed here for +the same purpose; this is as true as that it is now day, and ere this one +passes tie Dapple and Rocinante together, and then in God's hand be it to +guide us; for I would not hold back from embarking, though barefooted +friars were to beg me." + +"As that's the case," said Sancho, "and your worship chooses to give in +to these--I don't know if I may call them absurdities--at every turn, +there's nothing for it but to obey and bow the head, bearing in mind the +proverb, 'Do as thy master bids thee, and sit down to table with him;' +but for all that, for the sake of easing my conscience, I warn your +worship that it is my opinion this bark is no enchanted one, but belongs +to some of the fishermen of the river, for they catch the best shad in +the world here." + +As Sancho said this, he tied the beasts, leaving them to the care and +protection of the enchanters with sorrow enough in his heart. Don Quixote +bade him not be uneasy about deserting the animals, "for he who would +carry themselves over such longinquous roads and regions would take care +to feed them." + +"I don't understand that logiquous," said Sancho, "nor have I ever heard +the word all the days of my life." + +"Longinquous," replied Don Quixote, "means far off; but it is no wonder +thou dost not understand it, for thou art not bound to know Latin, like +some who pretend to know it and don't." + +"Now they are tied," said Sancho; "what are we to do next?" + +"What?" said Don Quixote, "cross ourselves and weigh anchor; I mean, +embark and cut the moorings by which the bark is held;" and the bark +began to drift away slowly from the bank. But when Sancho saw himself +somewhere about two yards out in the river, he began to tremble and give +himself up for lost; but nothing distressed him more than hearing Dapple +bray and seeing Rocinante struggling to get loose, and said he to his +master, "Dapple is braying in grief at our leaving him, and Rocinante is +trying to escape and plunge in after us. O dear friends, peace be with +you, and may this madness that is taking us away from you, turned into +sober sense, bring us back to you." And with this he fell weeping so +bitterly, that Don Quixote said to him, sharply and angrily, "What art +thou afraid of, cowardly creature? What art thou weeping at, heart of +butter-paste? Who pursues or molests thee, thou soul of a tame mouse? +What dost thou want, unsatisfied in the very heart of abundance? Art +thou, perchance, tramping barefoot over the Riphaean mountains, instead +of being seated on a bench like an archduke on the tranquil stream of +this pleasant river, from which in a short space we shall come out upon +the broad sea? But we must have already emerged and gone seven hundred or +eight hundred leagues; and if I had here an astrolabe to take the +altitude of the pole, I could tell thee how many we have travelled, +though either I know little, or we have already crossed or shall shortly +cross the equinoctial line which parts the two opposite poles midway." + +"And when we come to that line your worship speaks of," said Sancho, "how +far shall we have gone?" + +"Very far," said Don Quixote, "for of the three hundred and sixty degrees +that this terraqueous globe contains, as computed by Ptolemy, the +greatest cosmographer known, we shall have travelled one-half when we +come to the line I spoke of." + +"By God," said Sancho, "your worship gives me a nice authority for what +you say, putrid Dolly something transmogrified, or whatever it is." + +Don Quixote laughed at the interpretation Sancho put upon "computed," and +the name of the cosmographer Ptolemy, and said he, "Thou must know, +Sancho, that with the Spaniards and those who embark at Cadiz for the +East Indies, one of the signs they have to show them when they have +passed the equinoctial line I told thee of, is, that the lice die upon +everybody on board the ship, and not a single one is left, or to be found +in the whole vessel if they gave its weight in gold for it; so, Sancho, +thou mayest as well pass thy hand down thy thigh, and if thou comest upon +anything alive we shall be no longer in doubt; if not, then we have +crossed." + +"I don't believe a bit of it," said Sancho; "still, I'll do as your +worship bids me; though I don't know what need there is for trying these +experiments, for I can see with my own eyes that we have not moved five +yards away from the bank, or shifted two yards from where the animals +stand, for there are Rocinante and Dapple in the very same place where we +left them; and watching a point, as I do now, I swear by all that's good, +we are not stirring or moving at the pace of an ant." + +"Try the test I told thee of, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and don't mind +any other, for thou knowest nothing about colures, lines, parallels, +zodiacs, ecliptics, poles, solstices, equinoxes, planets, signs, +bearings, the measures of which the celestial and terrestrial spheres are +composed; if thou wert acquainted with all these things, or any portion +of them, thou wouldst see clearly how many parallels we have cut, what +signs we have seen, and what constellations we have left behind and are +now leaving behind. But again I tell thee, feel and hunt, for I am +certain thou art cleaner than a sheet of smooth white paper." + +Sancho felt, and passing his hand gently and carefully down to the hollow +of his left knee, he looked up at his master and said, "Either the test +is a false one, or we have not come to where your worship says, nor +within many leagues of it." + +"Why, how so?" asked Don Quixote; "hast thou come upon aught?" + +"Ay, and aughts," replied Sancho; and shaking his fingers he washed his +whole hand in the river along which the boat was quietly gliding in +midstream, not moved by any occult intelligence or invisible enchanter, +but simply by the current, just there smooth and gentle. + +They now came in sight of some large water mills that stood in the middle +of the river, and the instant Don Quixote saw them he cried out, "Seest +thou there, my friend? there stands the castle or fortress, where there +is, no doubt, some knight in durance, or ill-used queen, or infanta, or +princess, in whose aid I am brought hither." + +"What the devil city, fortress, or castle is your worship talking about, +senor?" said Sancho; "don't you see that those are mills that stand in +the river to grind corn?" + +"Hold thy peace, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "though they look like mills +they are not so; I have already told thee that enchantments transform +things and change their proper shapes; I do not mean to say they really +change them from one form into another, but that it seems as though they +did, as experience proved in the transformation of Dulcinea, sole refuge +of my hopes." + +By this time, the boat, having reached the middle of the stream, began to +move less slowly than hitherto. The millers belonging to the mills, when +they saw the boat coming down the river, and on the point of being sucked +in by the draught of the wheels, ran out in haste, several of them, with +long poles to stop it, and being all mealy, with faces and garments +covered with flour, they presented a sinister appearance. They raised +loud shouts, crying, "Devils of men, where are you going to? Are you mad? +Do you want to drown yourselves, or dash yourselves to pieces among these +wheels?" + +"Did I not tell thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote at this, "that we had +reached the place where I am to show what the might of my arm can do? See +what ruffians and villains come out against me; see what monsters oppose +me; see what hideous countenances come to frighten us! You shall soon +see, scoundrels!" And then standing up in the boat he began in a loud +voice to hurl threats at the millers, exclaiming, "Ill-conditioned and +worse-counselled rabble, restore to liberty and freedom the person ye +hold in durance in this your fortress or prison, high or low or of +whatever rank or quality he be, for I am Don Quixote of La Mancha, +otherwise called the Knight of the Lions, for whom, by the disposition of +heaven above, it is reserved to give a happy issue to this adventure;" +and so saying he drew his sword and began making passes in the air at the +millers, who, hearing but not understanding all this nonsense, strove to +stop the boat, which was now getting into the rushing channel of the +wheels. Sancho fell upon his knees devoutly appealing to heaven to +deliver him from such imminent peril; which it did by the activity and +quickness of the millers, who, pushing against the boat with their poles, +stopped it, not, however, without upsetting and throwing Don Quixote and +Sancho into the water; and lucky it was for Don Quixote that he could +swim like a goose, though the weight of his armour carried him twice to +the bottom; and had it not been for the millers, who plunged in and +hoisted them both out, it would have been Troy town with the pair of +them. As soon as, more drenched than thirsty, they were landed, Sancho +went down on his knees and with clasped hands and eyes raised to heaven, +prayed a long and fervent prayer to God to deliver him evermore from the +rash projects and attempts of his master. The fishermen, the owners of +the boat, which the mill-wheels had knocked to pieces, now came up, and +seeing it smashed they proceeded to strip Sancho and to demand payment +for it from Don Quixote; but he with great calmness, just as if nothing +had happened him, told the millers and fishermen that he would pay for +the bark most cheerfully, on condition that they delivered up to him, +free and unhurt, the person or persons that were in durance in that +castle of theirs. + +"What persons or what castle art thou talking of, madman? Art thou for +carrying off the people who come to grind corn in these mills?" + +"That's enough," said Don Quixote to himself, "it would be preaching in +the desert to attempt by entreaties to induce this rabble to do any +virtuous action. In this adventure two mighty enchanters must have +encountered one another, and one frustrates what the other attempts; one +provided the bark for me, and the other upset me; God help us, this world +is all machinations and schemes at cross purposes one with the other. I +can do no more." And then turning towards the mills he said aloud, +"Friends, whoe'er ye be that are immured in that prison, forgive me that, +to my misfortune and yours, I cannot deliver you from your misery; this +adventure is doubtless reserved and destined for some other knight." + +So saying he settled with the fishermen, and paid fifty reals for the +boat, which Sancho handed to them very much against the grain, saying, +"With a couple more bark businesses like this we shall have sunk our +whole capital." + +The fishermen and the millers stood staring in amazement at the two +figures, so very different to all appearance from ordinary men, and were +wholly unable to make out the drift of the observations and questions Don +Quixote addressed to them; and coming to the conclusion that they were +madmen, they left them and betook themselves, the millers to their mills, +and the fishermen to their huts. Don Quixote and Sancho returned to their +beasts, and to their life of beasts, and so ended the adventure of the +enchanted bark. + +Chapter XXX. - +Of Don Quixote's adventure with a fair huntress + +They reached their beasts in low spirits and bad humour enough, knight +and squire, Sancho particularly, for with him what touched the stock of +money touched his heart, and when any was taken from him he felt as if he +was robbed of the apples of his eyes. In fine, without exchanging a word, +they mounted and quitted the famous river, Don Quixote absorbed in +thoughts of his love, Sancho in thinking of his advancement, which just +then, it seemed to him, he was very far from securing; for, fool as he +was, he saw clearly enough that his master's acts were all or most of +them utterly senseless; and he began to cast about for an opportunity of +retiring from his service and going home some day, without entering into +any explanations or taking any farewell of him. Fortune, however, ordered +matters after a fashion very much the opposite of what he contemplated. + +It so happened that the next day towards sunset, on coming out of a wood, +Don Quixote cast his eyes over a green meadow, and at the far end of it +observed some people, and as he drew nearer saw that it was a hawking +party. Coming closer, he distinguished among them a lady of graceful +mien, on a pure white palfrey or hackney caparisoned with green trappings +and a silver-mounted side-saddle. The lady was also in green, and so +richly and splendidly dressed that splendour itself seemed personified in +her. On her left hand she bore a hawk, a proof to Don Quixote's mind that +she must be some great lady and the mistress of the whole hunting party, +which was the fact; so he said to Sancho, "Run Sancho, my son, and say to +that lady on the palfrey with the hawk that I, the Knight of the Lions, +kiss the hands of her exalted beauty, and if her excellence will grant me +leave I will go and kiss them in person and place myself at her service +for aught that may be in my power and her highness may command; and mind, +Sancho, how thou speakest, and take care not to thrust in any of thy +proverbs into thy message." + +"You've got a likely one here to thrust any in!" said Sancho; "leave me +alone for that! Why, this is not the first time in my life I have carried +messages to high and exalted ladies." + +"Except that thou didst carry to the lady Dulcinea," said Don Quixote, "I +know not that thou hast carried any other, at least in my service." + +"That is true," replied Sancho; "but pledges don't distress a good payer, +and in a house where there's plenty supper is soon cooked; I mean there's +no need of telling or warning me about anything; for I'm ready for +everything and know a little of everything." + +"That I believe, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "go and good luck to thee, +and God speed thee." + +Sancho went off at top speed, forcing Dapple out of his regular pace, and +came to where the fair huntress was standing, and dismounting knelt +before her and said, "Fair lady, that knight that you see there, the +Knight of the Lions by name, is my master, and I am a squire of his, and +at home they call me Sancho Panza. This same Knight of the Lions, who was +called not long since the Knight of the Rueful Countenance, sends by me +to say may it please your highness to give him leave that, with your +permission, approbation, and consent, he may come and carry out his +wishes, which are, as he says and I believe, to serve your exalted +loftiness and beauty; and if you give it, your ladyship will do a thing +which will redound to your honour, and he will receive a most +distinguished favour and happiness." + +"You have indeed, squire," said the lady, "delivered your message with +all the formalities such messages require; rise up, for it is not right +that the squire of a knight so great as he of the Rueful Countenance, of +whom we have heard a great deal here, should remain on his knees; rise, +my friend, and bid your master welcome to the services of myself and the +duke my husband, in a country house we have here." + +Sancho got up, charmed as much by the beauty of the good lady as by her +high-bred air and her courtesy, but, above all, by what she had said +about having heard of his master, the Knight of the Rueful Countenance; +for if she did not call him Knight of the Lions it was no doubt because +he had so lately taken the name. "Tell me, brother squire," asked the +duchess (whose title, however, is not known), "this master of yours, is +he not one of whom there is a history extant in print, called 'The +Ingenious Gentleman, Don Quixote of La Mancha,' who has for the lady of +his heart a certain Dulcinea del Toboso?" + +"He is the same, senora," replied Sancho; "and that squire of his who +figures, or ought to figure, in the said history under the name of Sancho +Panza, is myself, unless they have changed me in the cradle, I mean in +the press." + +"I am rejoiced at all this," said the duchess; "go, brother Panza, and +tell your master that he is welcome to my estate, and that nothing could +happen me that could give me greater pleasure." + +Sancho returned to his master mightily pleased with this gratifying +answer, and told him all the great lady had said to him, lauding to the +skies, in his rustic phrase, her rare beauty, her graceful gaiety, and +her courtesy. Don Quixote drew himself up briskly in his saddle, fixed +himself in his stirrups, settled his visor, gave Rocinante the spur, and +with an easy bearing advanced to kiss the hands of the duchess, who, +having sent to summon the duke her husband, told him while Don Quixote +was approaching all about the message; and as both of them had read the +First Part of this history, and from it were aware of Don Quixote's crazy +turn, they awaited him with the greatest delight and anxiety to make his +acquaintance, meaning to fall in with his humour and agree with +everything he said, and, so long as he stayed with them, to treat him as +a knight-errant, with all the ceremonies usual in the books of chivalry +they had read, for they themselves were very fond of them. + +Don Quixote now came up with his visor raised, and as he seemed about to +dismount Sancho made haste to go and hold his stirrup for him; but in +getting down off Dapple he was so unlucky as to hitch his foot in one of +the ropes of the pack-saddle in such a way that he was unable to free it, +and was left hanging by it with his face and breast on the ground. Don +Quixote, who was not used to dismount without having the stirrup held, +fancying that Sancho had by this time come to hold it for him, threw +himself off with a lurch and brought Rocinante's saddle after him, which +was no doubt badly girthed, and saddle and he both came to the ground; +not without discomfiture to him and abundant curses muttered between his +teeth against the unlucky Sancho, who had his foot still in the shackles. +The duke ordered his huntsmen to go to the help of knight and squire, and +they raised Don Quixote, sorely shaken by his fall; and he, limping, +advanced as best he could to kneel before the noble pair. This, however, +the duke would by no means permit; on the contrary, dismounting from his +horse, he went and embraced Don Quixote, saying, "I am grieved, Sir +Knight of the Rueful Countenance, that your first experience on my ground +should have been such an unfortunate one as we have seen; but the +carelessness of squires is often the cause of worse accidents." + +"That which has happened me in meeting you, mighty prince," replied Don +Quixote, "cannot be unfortunate, even if my fall had not stopped short of +the depths of the bottomless pit, for the glory of having seen you would +have lifted me up and delivered me from it. My squire, God's curse upon +him, is better at unloosing his tongue in talking impertinence than in +tightening the girths of a saddle to keep it steady; but however I may +be, allen or raised up, on foot or on horseback, I shall always be at +your service and that of my lady the duchess, your worthy consort, worthy +queen of beauty and paramount princess of courtesy." + +"Gently, Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha," said the duke; "where my lady +Dona Dulcinea del Toboso is, it is not right that other beauties should +be praised." + +Sancho, by this time released from his entanglement, was standing by, and +before his master could answer he said, "There is no denying, and it must +be maintained, that my lady Dulcinea del Toboso is very beautiful; but +the hare jumps up where one least expects it; and I have heard say that +what we call nature is like a potter that makes vessels of clay, and he +who makes one fair vessel can as well make two, or three, or a hundred; I +say so because, by my faith, my lady the duchess is in no way behind my +mistress the lady Dulcinea del Toboso." + +Don Quixote turned to the duchess and said, "Your highness may conceive +that never had knight-errant in this world a more talkative or a droller +squire than I have, and he will prove the truth of what I say, if your +highness is pleased to accept of my services for a few days." + +To which the duchess made answer, "that worthy Sancho is droll I consider +a very good thing, because it is a sign that he is shrewd; for drollery +and sprightliness, Senor Don Quixote, as you very well know, do not take +up their abode with dull wits; and as good Sancho is droll and sprightly +I here set him down as shrewd." + +"And talkative," added Don Quixote. + +"So much the better," said the duke, "for many droll things cannot be +said in few words; but not to lose time in talking, come, great Knight of +the Rueful Countenance-" + +"Of the Lions, your highness must say," said Sancho, "for there is no +Rueful Countenance nor any such character now." + +"He of the Lions be it," continued the duke; "I say, let Sir Knight of +the Lions come to a castle of mine close by, where he shall be given that +reception which is due to so exalted a personage, and which the duchess +and I are wont to give to all knights-errant who come there." + +By this time Sancho had fixed and girthed Rocinante's saddle, and Don +Quixote having got on his back and the duke mounted a fine horse, they +placed the duchess in the middle and set out for the castle. The duchess +desired Sancho to come to her side, for she found infinite enjoyment in +listening to his shrewd remarks. Sancho required no pressing, but pushed +himself in between them and the duke, who thought it rare good fortune to +receive such a knight-errant and such a homely squire in their castle. + +Chapter XXXI. - +Which treats of many and great matters + +Supreme was the satisfaction that Sancho felt at seeing himself, as it +seemed, an established favourite with the duchess, for he looked forward +to finding in her castle what he had found in Don Diego's house and in +Basilio's; he was always fond of good living, and always seized by the +forelock any opportunity of feasting himself whenever it presented +itself. The history informs us, then, that before they reached the +country house or castle, the duke went on in advance and instructed all +his servants how they were to treat Don Quixote; and so the instant he +came up to the castle gates with the duchess, two lackeys or equerries, +clad in what they call morning gowns of fine crimson satin reaching to +their feet, hastened out, and catching Don Quixote in their arms before +he saw or heard them, said to him, "Your highness should go and take my +lady the duchess off her horse." + +Don Quixote obeyed, and great bandying of compliments followed between +the two over the matter; but in the end the duchess's determination +carried the day, and she refused to get down or dismount from her palfrey +except in the arms of the duke, saying she did not consider herself +worthy to impose so unnecessary a burden on so great a knight. At length +the duke came out to take her down, and as they entered a spacious court +two fair damsels came forward and threw over Don Quixote's shoulders a +large mantle of the finest scarlet cloth, and at the same instant all the +galleries of the court were lined with the men-servants and +women-servants of the household, crying, "Welcome, flower and cream of +knight-errantry!" while all or most of them flung pellets filled with +scented water over Don Quixote and the duke and duchess; at all which Don +Quixote was greatly astonished, and this was the first time that he +thoroughly felt and believed himself to be a knight-errant in reality and +not merely in fancy, now that he saw himself treated in the same way as +he had read of such knights being treated in days of yore. + +Sancho, deserting Dapple, hung on to the duchess and entered the castle, +but feeling some twinges of conscience at having left the ass alone, he +approached a respectable duenna who had come out with the rest to receive +the duchess, and in a low voice he said to her, "Senora Gonzalez, or +however your grace may be called-" + +"I am called Dona Rodriguez de Grijalba," replied the duenna; "what is +your will, brother?" To which Sancho made answer, "I should be glad if +your worship would do me the favour to go out to the castle gate, where +you will find a grey ass of mine; make them, if you please, put him in +the stable, or put him there yourself, for the poor little beast is +rather easily frightened, and cannot bear being alone at all." + +"If the master is as wise as the man," said the duenna, "we have got a +fine bargain. Be off with you, brother, and bad luck to you and him who +brought you here; go, look after your ass, for we, the duennas of this +house, are not used to work of that sort." + +"Well then, in troth," returned Sancho, "I have heard my master, who is +the very treasure-finder of stories, telling the story of Lancelot when +he came from Britain, say that ladies waited upon him and duennas upon +his hack; and, if it comes to my ass, I wouldn't change him for Senor +Lancelot's hack." + +"If you are a jester, brother," said the duenna, "keep your drolleries +for some place where they'll pass muster and be paid for; for you'll get +nothing from me but a fig." + +"At any rate, it will be a very ripe one," said Sancho, "for you won't +lose the trick in years by a point too little." + +"Son of a bitch," said the duenna, all aglow with anger, "whether I'm old +or not, it's with God I have to reckon, not with you, you garlic-stuffed +scoundrel!" and she said it so loud, that the duchess heard it, and +turning round and seeing the duenna in such a state of excitement, and +her eyes flaming so, asked whom she was wrangling with. + +"With this good fellow here," said the duenna, "who has particularly +requested me to go and put an ass of his that is at the castle gate into +the stable, holding it up to me as an example that they did the same I +don't know where--that some ladies waited on one Lancelot, and duennas on +his hack; and what is more, to wind up with, he called me old." + +"That," said the duchess, "I should have considered the greatest affront +that could be offered me;" and addressing Sancho, she said to him, "You +must know, friend Sancho, that Dona Rodriguez is very youthful, and that +she wears that hood more for authority and custom sake than because of +her years." + +"May all the rest of mine be unlucky," said Sancho, "if I meant it that +way; I only spoke because the affection I have for my ass is so great, +and I thought I could not commend him to a more kind-hearted person than +the lady Dona Rodriguez." + +Don Quixote, who was listening, said to him, "Is this proper conversation +for the place, Sancho?" + +"Senor," replied Sancho, "every one must mention what he wants wherever +he may be; I thought of Dapple here, and I spoke of him here; if I had +thought of him in the stable I would have spoken there." + +On which the duke observed, "Sancho is quite right, and there is no +reason at all to find fault with him; Dapple shall be fed to his heart's +content, and Sancho may rest easy, for he shall be treated like himself." + +While this conversation, amusing to all except Don Quixote, was +proceeding, they ascended the staircase and ushered Don Quixote into a +chamber hung with rich cloth of gold and brocade; six damsels relieved +him of his armour and waited on him like pages, all of them prepared and +instructed by the duke and duchess as to what they were to do, and how +they were to treat Don Quixote, so that he might see and believe they +were treating him like a knight-errant. When his armour was removed, +there stood Don Quixote in his tight-fitting breeches and chamois +doublet, lean, lanky, and long, with cheeks that seemed to be kissing +each other inside; such a figure, that if the damsels waiting on him had +not taken care to check their merriment (which was one of the particular +directions their master and mistress had given them), they would have +burst with laughter. They asked him to let himself be stripped that they +might put a shirt on him, but he would not on any account, saying that +modesty became knights-errant just as much as valour. However, he said +they might give the shirt to Sancho; and shutting himself in with him in +a room where there was a sumptuous bed, he undressed and put on the +shirt; and then, finding himself alone with Sancho, he said to him, "Tell +me, thou new-fledged buffoon and old booby, dost thou think it right to +offend and insult a duenna so deserving of reverence and respect as that +one just now? Was that a time to bethink thee of thy Dapple, or are these +noble personages likely to let the beasts fare badly when they treat +their owners in such elegant style? For God's sake, Sancho, restrain +thyself, and don't show the thread so as to let them see what a coarse, +boorish texture thou art of. Remember, sinner that thou art, the master +is the more esteemed the more respectable and well-bred his servants are; +and that one of the greatest advantages that princes have over other men +is that they have servants as good as themselves to wait on them. Dost +thou not see--shortsighted being that thou art, and unlucky mortal that I +am!--that if they perceive thee to be a coarse clown or a dull blockhead, +they will suspect me to be some impostor or swindler? Nay, nay, Sancho +friend, keep clear, oh, keep clear of these stumbling-blocks; for he who +falls into the way of being a chatterbox and droll, drops into a wretched +buffoon the first time he trips; bridle thy tongue, consider and weigh +thy words before they escape thy mouth, and bear in mind we are now in +quarters whence, by God's help, and the strength of my arm, we shall come +forth mightily advanced in fame and fortune." + +Sancho promised him with much earnestness to keep his mouth shut, and to +bite off his tongue before he uttered a word that was not altogether to +the purpose and well considered, and told him he might make his mind easy +on that point, for it should never be discovered through him what they +were. + +Don Quixote dressed himself, put on his baldric with his sword, threw the +scarlet mantle over his shoulders, placed on his head a montera of green +satin that the damsels had given him, and thus arrayed passed out into +the large room, where he found the damsels drawn up in double file, the +same number on each side, all with the appliances for washing the hands, +which they presented to him with profuse obeisances and ceremonies. Then +came twelve pages, together with the seneschal, to lead him to dinner, as +his hosts were already waiting for him. They placed him in the midst of +them, and with much pomp and stateliness they conducted him into another +room, where there was a sumptuous table laid with but four covers. The +duchess and the duke came out to the door of the room to receive him, and +with them a grave ecclesiastic, one of those who rule noblemen's houses; +one of those who, not being born magnates themselves, never know how to +teach those who are how to behave as such; one of those who would have +the greatness of great folk measured by their own narrowness of mind; one +of those who, when they try to introduce economy into the household they +rule, lead it into meanness. One of this sort, I say, must have been the +grave churchman who came out with the duke and duchess to receive Don +Quixote. + +A vast number of polite speeches were exchanged, and at length, taking +Don Quixote between them, they proceeded to sit down to table. The duke +pressed Don Quixote to take the head of the table, and, though he +refused, the entreaties of the duke were so urgent that he had to accept +it. + +The ecclesiastic took his seat opposite to him, and the duke and duchess +those at the sides. All this time Sancho stood by, gaping with amazement +at the honour he saw shown to his master by these illustrious persons; +and observing all the ceremonious pressing that had passed between the +duke and Don Quixote to induce him to take his seat at the head of the +table, he said, "If your worship will give me leave I will tell you a +story of what happened in my village about this matter of seats." + +The moment Sancho said this Don Quixote trembled, making sure that he was +about to say something foolish. Sancho glanced at him, and guessing his +thoughts, said, "Don't be afraid of my going astray, senor, or saying +anything that won't be pat to the purpose; I haven't forgotten the advice +your worship gave me just now about talking much or little, well or ill." + +"I have no recollection of anything, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "say what +thou wilt, only say it quickly." + +"Well then," said Sancho, "what I am going to say is so true that my +master Don Quixote, who is here present, will keep me from lying." + +"Lie as much as thou wilt for all I care, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "for +I am not going to stop thee, but consider what thou art going to say." + +"I have so considered and reconsidered," said Sancho, "that the +bell-ringer's in a safe berth; as will be seen by what follows." + +"It would be well," said Don Quixote, "if your highnesses would order +them to turn out this idiot, for he will talk a heap of nonsense." + +"By the life of the duke, Sancho shall not be taken away from me for a +moment," said the duchess; "I am very fond of him, for I know he is very +discreet." + +"Discreet be the days of your holiness," said Sancho, "for the good +opinion you have of my wit, though there's none in me; but the story I +want to tell is this. There was an invitation given by a gentleman of my +town, a very rich one, and one of quality, for he was one of the Alamos +of Medina del Campo, and married to Dona Mencia de Quinones, the daughter +of Don Alonso de Maranon, Knight of the Order of Santiago, that was +drowned at the Herradura--him there was that quarrel about years ago in +our village, that my master Don Quixote was mixed up in, to the best of +my belief, that Tomasillo the scapegrace, the son of Balbastro the smith, +was wounded in.--Isn't all this true, master mine? As you live, say so, +that these gentlefolk may not take me for some lying chatterer." + +"So far," said the ecclesiastic, "I take you to be more a chatterer than +a liar; but I don't know what I shall take you for by-and-by." + +"Thou citest so many witnesses and proofs, Sancho," said Don Quixote, +"that I have no choice but to say thou must be telling the truth; go on, +and cut the story short, for thou art taking the way not to make an end +for two days to come." + +"He is not to cut it short," said the duchess; "on the contrary, for my +gratification, he is to tell it as he knows it, though he should not +finish it these six days; and if he took so many they would be to me the +pleasantest I ever spent." + +"Well then, sirs, I say," continued Sancho, "that this same gentleman, +whom I know as well as I do my own hands, for it's not a bowshot from my +house to his, invited a poor but respectable labourer-" + +"Get on, brother," said the churchman; "at the rate you are going you +will not stop with your story short of the next world." + +"I'll stop less than half-way, please God," said Sancho; "and so I say +this labourer, coming to the house of the gentleman I spoke of that +invited him--rest his soul, he is now dead; and more by token he died the +death of an angel, so they say; for I was not there, for just at that +time I had gone to reap at Tembleque-" + +"As you live, my son," said the churchman, "make haste back from +Tembleque, and finish your story without burying the gentleman, unless +you want to make more funerals." + +"Well then, it so happened," said Sancho, "that as the pair of them were +going to sit down to table--and I think I can see them now plainer than +ever-" + +Great was the enjoyment the duke and duchess derived from the irritation +the worthy churchman showed at the long-winded, halting way Sancho had of +telling his story, while Don Quixote was chafing with rage and vexation. + +"So, as I was saying," continued Sancho, "as the pair of them were going +to sit down to table, as I said, the labourer insisted upon the +gentleman's taking the head of the table, and the gentleman insisted upon +the labourer's taking it, as his orders should be obeyed in his house; +but the labourer, who plumed himself on his politeness and good breeding, +would not on any account, until the gentleman, out of patience, putting +his hands on his shoulders, compelled him by force to sit down, saying, +'Sit down, you stupid lout, for wherever I sit will be the head to you; +and that's the story, and, troth, I think it hasn't been brought in amiss +here." + +Don Quixote turned all colours, which, on his sunburnt face, mottled it +till it looked like jasper. The duke and duchess suppressed their +laughter so as not altogether to mortify Don Quixote, for they saw +through Sancho's impertinence; and to change the conversation, and keep +Sancho from uttering more absurdities, the duchess asked Don Quixote what +news he had of the lady Dulcinea, and if he had sent her any presents of +giants or miscreants lately, for he could not but have vanquished a good +many. + +To which Don Quixote replied, "Senora, my misfortunes, though they had a +beginning, will never have an end. I have vanquished giants and I have +sent her caitiffs and miscreants; but where are they to find her if she +is enchanted and turned into the most ill-favoured peasant wench that can +be imagined?" + +"I don't know," said Sancho Panza; "to me she seems the fairest creature +in the world; at any rate, in nimbleness and jumping she won't give in to +a tumbler; by my faith, senora duchess, she leaps from the ground on to +the back of an ass like a cat." + +"Have you seen her enchanted, Sancho?" asked the duke. + +"What, seen her!" said Sancho; "why, who the devil was it but myself that +first thought of the enchantment business? She is as much enchanted as my +father." + +The ecclesiastic, when he heard them talking of giants and caitiffs and +enchantments, began to suspect that this must be Don Quixote of La +Mancha, whose story the duke was always reading; and he had himself often +reproved him for it, telling him it was foolish to read such fooleries; +and becoming convinced that his suspicion was correct, addressing the +duke, he said very angrily to him, "Senor, your excellence will have to +give account to God for what this good man does. This Don Quixote, or Don +Simpleton, or whatever his name is, cannot, I imagine, be such a +blockhead as your excellence would have him, holding out encouragement to +him to go on with his vagaries and follies." Then turning to address Don +Quixote he said, "And you, num-skull, who put it into your head that you +are a knight-errant, and vanquish giants and capture miscreants? Go your +ways in a good hour, and in a good hour be it said to you. Go home and +bring up your children if you have any, and attend to your business, and +give over going wandering about the world, gaping and making a +laughing-stock of yourself to all who know you and all who don't. Where, +in heaven's name, have you discovered that there are or ever were +knights-errant? Where are there giants in Spain or miscreants in La +Mancha, or enchanted Dulcineas, or all the rest of the silly things they +tell about you?" + +Don Quixote listened attentively to the reverend gentleman's words, and +as soon as he perceived he had done speaking, regardless of the presence +of the duke and duchess, he sprang to his feet with angry looks and an +agitated countenance, and said--But the reply deserves a chapter to +itself. + +Chapter XXXII. - +Of the reply Don Quixote gave his censurer, with other incidents, grave +and droll + +Don Quixote, then, having risen to his feet, trembling from head to foot +like a man dosed with mercury, said in a hurried, agitated voice, "The +place I am in, the presence in which I stand, and the respect I have and +always have had for the profession to which your worship belongs, hold +and bind the hands of my just indignation; and as well for these reasons +as because I know, as everyone knows, that a gownsman's weapon is the +same as a woman's, the tongue, I will with mine engage in equal combat +with your worship, from whom one might have expected good advice instead +of foul abuse. Pious, well-meant reproof requires a different demeanour +and arguments of another sort; at any rate, to have reproved me in +public, and so roughly, exceeds the bounds of proper reproof, for that +comes better with gentleness than with rudeness; and it is not seemly to +call the sinner roundly blockhead and booby, without knowing anything of +the sin that is reproved. Come, tell me, for which of the stupidities you +have observed in me do you condemn and abuse me, and bid me go home and +look after my house and wife and children, without knowing whether I have +any? Is nothing more needed than to get a footing, by hook or by crook, +in other people's houses to rule over the masters (and that, perhaps, +after having been brought up in all the straitness of some seminary, and +without having ever seen more of the world than may lie within twenty or +thirty leagues round), to fit one to lay down the law rashly for +chivalry, and pass judgment on knights-errant? Is it, haply, an idle +occupation, or is the time ill-spent that is spent in roaming the world +in quest, not of its enjoyments, but of those arduous toils whereby the +good mount upwards to the abodes of everlasting life? If gentlemen, great +lords, nobles, men of high birth, were to rate me as a fool I should take +it as an irreparable insult; but I care not a farthing if clerks who have +never entered upon or trod the paths of chivalry should think me foolish. +Knight I am, and knight I will die, if such be the pleasure of the Most +High. Some take the broad road of overweening ambition; others that of +mean and servile flattery; others that of deceitful hypocrisy, and some +that of true religion; but I, led by my star, follow the narrow path of +knight-errantry, and in pursuit of that calling I despise wealth, but not +honour. I have redressed injuries, righted wrongs, punished insolences, +vanquished giants, and crushed monsters; I am in love, for no other +reason than that it is incumbent on knights-errant to be so; but though I +am, I am no carnal-minded lover, but one of the chaste, platonic sort. My +intentions are always directed to worthy ends, to do good to all and evil +to none; and if he who means this, does this, and makes this his practice +deserves to be called a fool, it is for your highnesses to say, O most +excellent duke and duchess." + +"Good, by God!" cried Sancho; "say no more in your own defence, master +mine, for there's nothing more in the world to be said, thought, or +insisted on; and besides, when this gentleman denies, as he has, that +there are or ever have been any knights-errant in the world, is it any +wonder if he knows nothing of what he has been talking about?" + +"Perhaps, brother," said the ecclesiastic, "you are that Sancho Panza +that is mentioned, to whom your master has promised an island?" + +"Yes, I am," said Sancho, "and what's more, I am one who deserves it as +much as anyone; I am one of the sort--'Attach thyself to the good, and +thou wilt be one of them,' and of those, 'Not with whom thou art bred, +but with whom thou art fed,' and of those, 'Who leans against a good +tree, a good shade covers him;' I have leant upon a good master, and I +have been for months going about with him, and please God I shall be just +such another; long life to him and long life to me, for neither will he +be in any want of empires to rule, or I of islands to govern." + +"No, Sancho my friend, certainly not," said the duke, "for in the name of +Senor Don Quixote I confer upon you the government of one of no small +importance that I have at my disposal." + +"Go down on thy knees, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and kiss the feet of +his excellence for the favour he has bestowed upon thee." + +Sancho obeyed, and on seeing this the ecclesiastic stood up from table +completely out of temper, exclaiming, "By the gown I wear, I am almost +inclined to say that your excellence is as great a fool as these sinners. +No wonder they are mad, when people who are in their senses sanction +their madness! I leave your excellence with them, for so long as they are +in the house, I will remain in my own, and spare myself the trouble of +reproving what I cannot remedy;" and without uttering another word, or +eating another morsel, he went off, the entreaties of the duke and +duchess being entirely unavailing to stop him; not that the duke said +much to him, for he could not, because of the laughter his uncalled-for +anger provoked. + +When he had done laughing, he said to Don Quixote, "You have replied on +your own behalf so stoutly, Sir Knight of the Lions, that there is no +occasion to seek further satisfaction for this, which, though it may look +like an offence, is not so at all, for, as women can give no offence, no +more can ecclesiastics, as you very well know." + +"That is true," said Don Quixote, "and the reason is, that he who is not +liable to offence cannot give offence to anyone. Women, children, and +ecclesiastics, as they cannot defend themselves, though they may receive +offence cannot be insulted, because between the offence and the insult +there is, as your excellence very well knows, this difference: the insult +comes from one who is capable of offering it, and does so, and maintains +it; the offence may come from any quarter without carrying insult. To +take an example: a man is standing unsuspectingly in the street and ten +others come up armed and beat him; he draws his sword and quits himself +like a man, but the number of his antagonists makes it impossible for him +to effect his purpose and avenge himself; this man suffers an offence but +not an insult. Another example will make the same thing plain: a man is +standing with his back turned, another comes up and strikes him, and +after striking him takes to flight, without waiting an instant, and the +other pursues him but does not overtake him; he who received the blow +received an offence, but not an insult, because an insult must be +maintained. If he who struck him, though he did so sneakingly and +treacherously, had drawn his sword and stood and faced him, then he who +had been struck would have received offence and insult at the same time; +offence because he was struck treacherously, insult because he who struck +him maintained what he had done, standing his ground without taking to +flight. And so, according to the laws of the accursed duel, I may have +received offence, but not insult, for neither women nor children can +maintain it, nor can they wound, nor have they any way of standing their +ground, and it is just the same with those connected with religion; for +these three sorts of persons are without arms offensive or defensive, and +so, though naturally they are bound to defend themselves, they have no +right to offend anybody; and though I said just now I might have received +offence, I say now certainly not, for he who cannot receive an insult can +still less give one; for which reasons I ought not to feel, nor do I +feel, aggrieved at what that good man said to me; I only wish he had +stayed a little longer, that I might have shown him the mistake he makes +in supposing and maintaining that there are not and never have been any +knights-errant in the world; had Amadis or any of his countless +descendants heard him say as much, I am sure it would not have gone well +with his worship." + +"I will take my oath of that," said Sancho; "they would have given him a +slash that would have slit him down from top to toe like a pomegranate or +a ripe melon; they were likely fellows to put up with jokes of that sort! +By my faith, I'm certain if Reinaldos of Montalvan had heard the little +man's words he would have given him such a spank on the mouth that he +wouldn't have spoken for the next three years; ay, let him tackle them, +and he'll see how he'll get out of their hands!" + +The duchess, as she listened to Sancho, was ready to die with laughter, +and in her own mind she set him down as droller and madder than his +master; and there were a good many just then who were of the same +opinion. + +Don Quixote finally grew calm, and dinner came to an end, and as the +cloth was removed four damsels came in, one of them with a silver basin, +another with a jug also of silver, a third with two fine white towels on +her shoulder, and the fourth with her arms bared to the elbows, and in +her white hands (for white they certainly were) a round ball of Naples +soap. The one with the basin approached, and with arch composure and +impudence, thrust it under Don Quixote's chin, who, wondering at such a +ceremony, said never a word, supposing it to be the custom of that +country to wash beards instead of hands; he therefore stretched his out +as far as he could, and at the same instant the jug began to pour and the +damsel with the soap rubbed his beard briskly, raising snow-flakes, for +the soap lather was no less white, not only over the beard, but all over +the face, and over the eyes of the submissive knight, so that they were +perforce obliged to keep shut. The duke and duchess, who had not known +anything about this, waited to see what came of this strange washing. The +barber damsel, when she had him a hand's breadth deep in lather, +pretended that there was no more water, and bade the one with the jug go +and fetch some, while Senor Don Quixote waited. She did so, and Don +Quixote was left the strangest and most ludicrous figure that could be +imagined. All those present, and there were a good many, were watching +him, and as they saw him there with half a yard of neck, and that +uncommonly brown, his eyes shut, and his beard full of soap, it was a +great wonder, and only by great discretion, that they were able to +restrain their laughter. The damsels, the concocters of the joke, kept +their eyes down, not daring to look at their master and mistress; and as +for them, laughter and anger struggled within them, and they knew not +what to do, whether to punish the audacity of the girls, or to reward +them for the amusement they had received from seeing Don Quixote in such +a plight. + +At length the damsel with the jug returned and they made an end of +washing Don Quixote, and the one who carried the towels very deliberately +wiped him and dried him; and all four together making him a profound +obeisance and curtsey, they were about to go, when the duke, lest Don +Quixote should see through the joke, called out to the one with the basin +saying, "Come and wash me, and take care that there is water enough." The +girl, sharp-witted and prompt, came and placed the basin for the duke as +she had done for Don Quixote, and they soon had him well soaped and +washed, and having wiped him dry they made their obeisance and retired. +It appeared afterwards that the duke had sworn that if they had not +washed him as they had Don Quixote he would have punished them for their +impudence, which they adroitly atoned for by soaping him as well. + +Sancho observed the ceremony of the washing very attentively, and said to +himself, "God bless me, if it were only the custom in this country to +wash squires' beards too as well as knights'. For by God and upon my soul +I want it badly; and if they gave me a scrape of the razor besides I'd +take it as a still greater kindness." + +"What are you saying to yourself, Sancho?" asked the duchess. + +"I was saying, senora," he replied, "that in the courts of other princes, +when the cloth is taken away, I have always heard say they give water for +the hands, but not lye for the beard; and that shows it is good to live +long that you may see much; to be sure, they say too that he who lives a +long life must undergo much evil, though to undergo a washing of that +sort is pleasure rather than pain." + +"Don't be uneasy, friend Sancho," said the duchess; "I will take care +that my damsels wash you, and even put you in the tub if necessary." + +"I'll be content with the beard," said Sancho, "at any rate for the +present; and as for the future, God has decreed what is to be." + +"Attend to worthy Sancho's request, seneschal," said the duchess, "and do +exactly what he wishes." + +The seneschal replied that Senor Sancho should be obeyed in everything; +and with that he went away to dinner and took Sancho along with him, +while the duke and duchess and Don Quixote remained at table discussing a +great variety of things, but all bearing on the calling of arms and +knight-errantry. + +The duchess begged Don Quixote, as he seemed to have a retentive memory, +to describe and portray to her the beauty and features of the lady +Dulcinea del Toboso, for, judging by what fame trumpeted abroad of her +beauty, she felt sure she must be the fairest creature in the world, nay, +in all La Mancha. + +Don Quixote sighed on hearing the duchess's request, and said, "If I +could pluck out my heart, and lay it on a plate on this table here before +your highness's eyes, it would spare my tongue the pain of telling what +can hardly be thought of, for in it your excellence would see her +portrayed in full. But why should I attempt to depict and describe in +detail, and feature by feature, the beauty of the peerless Dulcinea, the +burden being one worthy of other shoulders than mine, an enterprise +wherein the pencils of Parrhasius, Timantes, and Apelles, and the graver +of Lysippus ought to be employed, to paint it in pictures and carve it in +marble and bronze, and Ciceronian and Demosthenian eloquence to sound its +praises?" + +"What does Demosthenian mean, Senor Don Quixote?" said the duchess; "it +is a word I never heard in all my life." + +"Demosthenian eloquence," said Don Quixote, "means the eloquence of +Demosthenes, as Ciceronian means that of Cicero, who were the two most +eloquent orators in the world." + +"True," said the duke; "you must have lost your wits to ask such a +question. Nevertheless, Senor Don Quixote would greatly gratify us if he +would depict her to us; for never fear, even in an outline or sketch she +will be something to make the fairest envious." + +"I would do so certainly," said Don Quixote, "had she not been blurred to +my mind's eye by the misfortune that fell upon her a short time since, +one of such a nature that I am more ready to weep over it than to +describe it. For your highnesses must know that, going a few days back to +kiss her hands and receive her benediction, approbation, and permission +for this third sally, I found her altogether a different being from the +one I sought; I found her enchanted and changed from a princess into a +peasant, from fair to foul, from an angel into a devil, from fragrant to +pestiferous, from refined to clownish, from a dignified lady into a +jumping tomboy, and, in a word, from Dulcinea del Toboso into a coarse +Sayago wench." + +"God bless me!" said the duke aloud at this, "who can have done the world +such an injury? Who can have robbed it of the beauty that gladdened it, +of the grace and gaiety that charmed it, of the modesty that shed a +lustre upon it?" + +"Who?" replied Don Quixote; "who could it be but some malignant enchanter +of the many that persecute me out of envy--that accursed race born into +the world to obscure and bring to naught the achievements of the good, +and glorify and exalt the deeds of the wicked? Enchanters have persecuted +me, enchanters persecute me still, and enchanters will continue to +persecute me until they have sunk me and my lofty chivalry in the deep +abyss of oblivion; and they injure and wound me where they know I feel it +most. For to deprive a knight-errant of his lady is to deprive him of the +eyes he sees with, of the sun that gives him light, of the food whereby +he lives. Many a time before have I said it, and I say it now once more, +a knight-errant without a lady is like a tree without leaves, a building +without a foundation, or a shadow without the body that causes it." + +"There is no denying it," said the duchess; "but still, if we are to +believe the history of Don Quixote that has come out here lately with +general applause, it is to be inferred from it, if I mistake not, that +you never saw the lady Dulcinea, and that the said lady is nothing in the +world but an imaginary lady, one that you yourself begot and gave birth +to in your brain, and adorned with whatever charms and perfections you +chose." + +"There is a good deal to be said on that point," said Don Quixote; "God +knows whether there be any Dulcinea or not in the world, or whether she +is imaginary or not imaginary; these are things the proof of which must +not be pushed to extreme lengths. I have not begotten nor given birth to +my lady, though I behold her as she needs must be, a lady who contains in +herself all the qualities to make her famous throughout the world, +beautiful without blemish, dignified without haughtiness, tender and yet +modest, gracious from courtesy and courteous from good breeding, and +lastly, of exalted lineage, because beauty shines forth and excels with a +higher degree of perfection upon good blood than in the fair of lowly +birth." + +"That is true," said the duke; "but Senor Don Quixote will give me leave +to say what I am constrained to say by the story of his exploits that I +have read, from which it is to be inferred that, granting there is a +Dulcinea in El Toboso, or out of it, and that she is in the highest +degree beautiful as you have described her to us, as regards the +loftiness of her lineage she is not on a par with the Orianas, +Alastrajareas, Madasimas, or others of that sort, with whom, as you well +know, the histories abound." + +"To that I may reply," said Don Quixote, "that Dulcinea is the daughter +of her own works, and that virtues rectify blood, and that lowly virtue +is more to be regarded and esteemed than exalted vice. Dulcinea, besides, +has that within her that may raise her to be a crowned and sceptred +queen; for the merit of a fair and virtuous woman is capable of +performing greater miracles; and virtually, though not formally, she has +in herself higher fortunes." + +"I protest, Senor Don Quixote," said the duchess, "that in all you say, +you go most cautiously and lead in hand, as the saying is; henceforth I +will believe myself, and I will take care that everyone in my house +believes, even my lord the duke if needs be, that there is a Dulcinea in +El Toboso, and that she is living to-day, and that she is beautiful and +nobly born and deserves to have such a knight as Senor Don Quixote in her +service, and that is the highest praise that it is in my power to give +her or that I can think of. But I cannot help entertaining a doubt, and +having a certain grudge against Sancho Panza; the doubt is this, that the +aforesaid history declares that the said Sancho Panza, when he carried a +letter on your worship's behalf to the said lady Dulcinea, found her +sifting a sack of wheat; and more by token it says it was red wheat; a +thing which makes me doubt the loftiness of her lineage." + +To this Don Quixote made answer, "Senora, your highness must know that +everything or almost everything that happens me transcends the ordinary +limits of what happens to other knights-errant; whether it be that it is +directed by the inscrutable will of destiny, or by the malice of some +jealous enchanter. Now it is an established fact that all or most famous +knights-errant have some special gift, one that of being proof against +enchantment, another that of being made of such invulnerable flesh that +he cannot be wounded, as was the famous Roland, one of the twelve peers +of France, of whom it is related that he could not be wounded except in +the sole of his left foot, and that it must be with the point of a stout +pin and not with any other sort of weapon whatever; and so, when Bernardo +del Carpio slew him at Roncesvalles, finding that he could not wound him +with steel, he lifted him up from the ground in his arms and strangled +him, calling to mind seasonably the death which Hercules inflicted on +Antaeus, the fierce giant that they say was the son of Terra. I would +infer from what I have mentioned that perhaps I may have some gift of +this kind, not that of being invulnerable, because experience has many +times proved to me that I am of tender flesh and not at all impenetrable; +nor that of being proof against enchantment, for I have already seen +myself thrust into a cage, in which all the world would not have been +able to confine me except by force of enchantments. But as I delivered +myself from that one, I am inclined to believe that there is no other +that can hurt me; and so, these enchanters, seeing that they cannot exert +their vile craft against my person, revenge themselves on what I love +most, and seek to rob me of life by maltreating that of Dulcinea in whom +I live; and therefore I am convinced that when my squire carried my +message to her, they changed her into a common peasant girl, engaged in +such a mean occupation as sifting wheat; I have already said, however, +that that wheat was not red wheat, nor wheat at all, but grains of orient +pearl. And as a proof of all this, I must tell your highnesses that, +coming to El Toboso a short time back, I was altogether unable to +discover the palace of Dulcinea; and that the next day, though Sancho, my +squire, saw her in her own proper shape, which is the fairest in the +world, to me she appeared to be a coarse, ill-favoured farm-wench, and by +no means a well-spoken one, she who is propriety itself. And so, as I am +not and, so far as one can judge, cannot be enchanted, she it is that is +enchanted, that is smitten, that is altered, changed, and transformed; in +her have my enemies revenged themselves upon me, and for her shall I live +in ceaseless tears, until I see her in her pristine state. I have +mentioned this lest anybody should mind what Sancho said about Dulcinea's +winnowing or sifting; for, as they changed her to me, it is no wonder if +they changed her to him. Dulcinea is illustrious and well-born, and of +one of the gentle families of El Toboso, which are many, ancient, and +good. Therein, most assuredly, not small is the share of the peerless +Dulcinea, through whom her town will be famous and celebrated in ages to +come, as Troy was through Helen, and Spain through La Cava, though with a +better title and tradition. For another thing; I would have your graces +understand that Sancho Panza is one of the drollest squires that ever +served knight-errant; sometimes there is a simplicity about him so acute +that it is an amusement to try and make out whether he is simple or +sharp; he has mischievous tricks that stamp him rogue, and blundering +ways that prove him a booby; he doubts everything and believes +everything; when I fancy he is on the point of coming down headlong from +sheer stupidity, he comes out with something shrewd that sends him up to +the skies. After all, I would not exchange him for another squire, though +I were given a city to boot, and therefore I am in doubt whether it will +be well to send him to the government your highness has bestowed upon +him; though I perceive in him a certain aptitude for the work of +governing, so that, with a little trimming of his understanding, he would +manage any government as easily as the king does his taxes; and moreover, +we know already ample experience that it does not require much cleverness +or much learning to be a governor, for there are a hundred round about us +that scarcely know how to read, and govern like gerfalcons. The main +point is that they should have good intentions and be desirous of doing +right in all things, for they will never be at a loss for persons to +advise and direct them in what they have to do, like those +knight-governors who, being no lawyers, pronounce sentences with the aid +of an assessor. My advice to him will be to take no bribe and surrender +no right, and I have some other little matters in reserve, that shall be +produced in due season for Sancho's benefit and the advantage of the +island he is to govern." + +The duke, duchess, and Don Quixote had reached this point in their +conversation, when they heard voices and a great hubbub in the palace, +and Sancho burst abruptly into the room all glowing with anger, with a +straining-cloth by way of a bib, and followed by several servants, or, +more properly speaking, kitchen-boys and other underlings, one of whom +carried a small trough full of water, that from its colour and impurity +was plainly dishwater. The one with the trough pursued him and followed +him everywhere he went, endeavouring with the utmost persistence to +thrust it under his chin, while another kitchen-boy seemed anxious to +wash his beard. + +"What is all this, brothers?" asked the duchess. "What is it? What do you +want to do to this good man? Do you forget he is a governor-elect?" + +To which the barber kitchen-boy replied, "The gentleman will not let +himself be washed as is customary, and as my lord and the senor his +master have been." + +"Yes, I will," said Sancho, in a great rage; "but I'd like it to be with +cleaner towels, clearer lye, and not such dirty hands; for there's not so +much difference between me and my master that he should be washed with +angels' water and I with devil's lye. The customs of countries and +princes' palaces are only good so long as they give no annoyance; but the +way of washing they have here is worse than doing penance. I have a clean +beard, and I don't require to be refreshed in that fashion, and whoever +comes to wash me or touch a hair of my head, I mean to say my beard, with +all due respect be it said, I'll give him a punch that will leave my fist +sunk in his skull; for cirimonies and soapings of this sort are more like +jokes than the polite attentions of one's host." + +The duchess was ready to die with laughter when she saw Sancho's rage and +heard his words; but it was no pleasure to Don Quixote to see him in such +a sorry trim, with the dingy towel about him, and the hangers-on of the +kitchen all round him; so making a low bow to the duke and duchess, as if +to ask their permission to speak, he addressed the rout in a dignified +tone: "Holloa, gentlemen! you let that youth alone, and go back to where +you came from, or anywhere else if you like; my squire is as clean as any +other person, and those troughs are as bad as narrow thin-necked jars to +him; take my advice and leave him alone, for neither he nor I understand +joking." + +Sancho took the word out of his mouth and went on, "Nay, let them come +and try their jokes on the country bumpkin, for it's about as likely I'll +stand them as that it's now midnight! Let them bring me a comb here, or +what they please, and curry this beard of mine, and if they get anything +out of it that offends against cleanliness, let them clip me to the +skin." + +Upon this, the duchess, laughing all the while, said, "Sancho Panza is +right, and always will be in all he says; he is clean, and, as he says +himself, he does not require to be washed; and if our ways do not please +him, he is free to choose. Besides, you promoters of cleanliness have +been excessively careless and thoughtless, I don't know if I ought not to +say audacious, to bring troughs and wooden utensils and kitchen +dishclouts, instead of basins and jugs of pure gold and towels of +holland, to such a person and such a beard; but, after all, you are +ill-conditioned and ill-bred, and spiteful as you are, you cannot help +showing the grudge you have against the squires of knights-errant." + +The impudent servitors, and even the seneschal who came with them, took +the duchess to be speaking in earnest, so they removed the +straining-cloth from Sancho's neck, and with something like shame and +confusion of face went off all of them and left him; whereupon he, seeing +himself safe out of that extreme danger, as it seemed to him, ran and +fell on his knees before the duchess, saying, "From great ladies great +favours may be looked for; this which your grace has done me today cannot +be requited with less than wishing I was dubbed a knight-errant, to +devote myself all the days of my life to the service of so exalted a +lady. I am a labouring man, my name is Sancho Panza, I am married, I have +children, and I am serving as a squire; if in any one of these ways I can +serve your highness, I will not be longer in obeying than your grace in +commanding." + +"It is easy to see, Sancho," replied the duchess, "that you have learned +to be polite in the school of politeness itself; I mean to say it is easy +to see that you have been nursed in the bosom of Senor Don Quixote, who +is, of course, the cream of good breeding and flower of ceremony--or +cirimony, as you would say yourself. Fair be the fortunes of such a +master and such a servant, the one the cynosure of knight-errantry, the +other the star of squirely fidelity! Rise, Sancho, my friend; I will +repay your courtesy by taking care that my lord the duke makes good to +you the promised gift of the government as soon as possible." + +With this, the conversation came to an end, and Don Quixote retired to +take his midday sleep; but the duchess begged Sancho, unless he had a +very great desire to go to sleep, to come and spend the afternoon with +her and her damsels in a very cool chamber. Sancho replied that, though +he certainly had the habit of sleeping four or five hours in the heat of +the day in summer, to serve her excellence he would try with all his +might not to sleep even one that day, and that he would come in obedience +to her command, and with that he went off. The duke gave fresh orders +with respect to treating Don Quixote as a knight-errant, without +departing even in smallest particular from the style in which, as the +stories tell us, they used to treat the knights of old. + +Chapter XXXIII. - +Of the delectable discourse which the duchess and her damsels held with +Sancho Panza, well worth reading and noting + +The history records that Sancho did not sleep that afternoon, but in +order to keep his word came, before he had well done dinner, to visit the +duchess, who, finding enjoyment in listening to him, made him sit down +beside her on a low seat, though Sancho, out of pure good breeding, +wanted not to sit down; the duchess, however, told him he was to sit down +as governor and talk as squire, as in both respects he was worthy of even +the chair of the Cid Ruy Diaz the Campeador. Sancho shrugged his +shoulders, obeyed, and sat down, and all the duchess's damsels and +duennas gathered round him, waiting in profound silence to hear what he +would say. It was the duchess, however, who spoke first, saying: + +"Now that we are alone, and that there is nobody here to overhear us, I +should be glad if the senor governor would relieve me of certain doubts I +have, rising out of the history of the great Don Quixote that is now in +print. One is: inasmuch as worthy Sancho never saw Dulcinea, I mean the +lady Dulcinea del Toboso, nor took Don Quixote's letter to her, for it +was left in the memorandum book in the Sierra Morena, how did he dare to +invent the answer and all that about finding her sifting wheat, the whole +story being a deception and falsehood, and so much to the prejudice of +the peerless Dulcinea's good name, a thing that is not at all becoming +the character and fidelity of a good squire?" + +At these words, Sancho, without uttering one in reply, got up from his +chair, and with noiseless steps, with his body bent and his finger on his +lips, went all round the room lifting up the hangings; and this done, he +came back to his seat and said, "Now, senora, that I have seen that there +is no one except the bystanders listening to us on the sly, I will answer +what you have asked me, and all you may ask me, without fear or dread. +And the first thing I have got to say is, that for my own part I hold my +master Don Quixote to be stark mad, though sometimes he says things that, +to my mind, and indeed everybody's that listens to him, are so wise, and +run in such a straight furrow, that Satan himself could not have said +them better; but for all that, really, and beyond all question, it's my +firm belief he is cracked. Well, then, as this is clear to my mind, I can +venture to make him believe things that have neither head nor tail, like +that affair of the answer to the letter, and that other of six or eight +days ago, which is not yet in history, that is to say, the affair of the +enchantment of my lady Dulcinea; for I made him believe she is enchanted, +though there's no more truth in it than over the hills of Ubeda." + +The duchess begged him to tell her about the enchantment or deception, so +Sancho told the whole story exactly as it had happened, and his hearers +were not a little amused by it; and then resuming, the duchess said, "In +consequence of what worthy Sancho has told me, a doubt starts up in my +mind, and there comes a kind of whisper to my ear that says, 'If Don +Quixote be mad, crazy, and cracked, and Sancho Panza his squire knows it, +and, notwithstanding, serves and follows him, and goes trusting to his +empty promises, there can be no doubt he must be still madder and sillier +than his master; and that being so, it will be cast in your teeth, senora +duchess, if you give the said Sancho an island to govern; for how will he +who does not know how to govern himself know how to govern others?'" + +"By God, senora," said Sancho, "but that doubt comes timely; but your +grace may say it out, and speak plainly, or as you like; for I know what +you say is true, and if I were wise I should have left my master long +ago; but this was my fate, this was my bad luck; I can't help it, I must +follow him; we're from the same village, I've eaten his bread, I'm fond +of him, I'm grateful, he gave me his ass-colts, and above all I'm +faithful; so it's quite impossible for anything to separate us, except +the pickaxe and shovel. And if your highness does not like to give me the +government you promised, God made me without it, and maybe your not +giving it to me will be all the better for my conscience, for fool as I +am I know the proverb 'to her hurt the ant got wings,' and it may be that +Sancho the squire will get to heaven sooner than Sancho the governor. +'They make as good bread here as in France,' and 'by night all cats are +grey,' and 'a hard case enough his, who hasn't broken his fast at two in +the afternoon,' and 'there's no stomach a hand's breadth bigger than +another,' and the same can be filled 'with straw or hay,' as the saying +is, and 'the little birds of the field have God for their purveyor and +caterer,' and 'four yards of Cuenca frieze keep one warmer than four of +Segovia broad-cloth,' and 'when we quit this world and are put +underground the prince travels by as narrow a path as the journeyman,' +and 'the Pope's body does not take up more feet of earth than the +sacristan's,' for all that the one is higher than the other; for when we +go to our graves we all pack ourselves up and make ourselves small, or +rather they pack us up and make us small in spite of us, and then--good +night to us. And I say once more, if your ladyship does not like to give +me the island because I'm a fool, like a wise man I will take care to +give myself no trouble about it; I have heard say that 'behind the cross +there's the devil,' and that 'all that glitters is not gold,' and that +from among the oxen, and the ploughs, and the yokes, Wamba the husbandman +was taken to be made King of Spain, and from among brocades, and +pleasures, and riches, Roderick was taken to be devoured by adders, if +the verses of the old ballads don't lie." + +"To be sure they don't lie!" exclaimed Dona Rodriguez, the duenna, who +was one of the listeners. "Why, there's a ballad that says they put King +Rodrigo alive into a tomb full of toads, and adders, and lizards, and +that two days afterwards the king, in a plaintive, feeble voice, cried +out from within the tomb-- + +poem{ + +They gnaw me now, they gnaw me now, +There where I most did sin. + +}poem + +And according to that the gentleman has good reason to say he would +rather be a labouring man than a king, if vermin are to eat him." + +The duchess could not help laughing at the simplicity of her duenna, or +wondering at the language and proverbs of Sancho, to whom she said, +"Worthy Sancho knows very well that when once a knight has made a promise +he strives to keep it, though it should cost him his life. My lord and +husband the duke, though not one of the errant sort, is none the less a +knight for that reason, and will keep his word about the promised island, +in spite of the envy and malice of the world. Let Sancho he of good +cheer; for when he least expects it he will find himself seated on the +throne of his island and seat of dignity, and will take possession of his +government that he may discard it for another of three-bordered brocade. +The charge I give him is to be careful how he governs his vassals, +bearing in mind that they are all loyal and well-born." + +"As to governing them well," said Sancho, "there's no need of charging me +to do that, for I'm kind-hearted by nature, and full of compassion for +the poor; there's no stealing the loaf from him who kneads and bakes;' +and by my faith it won't do to throw false dice with me; I am an old dog, +and I know all about 'tus, tus;' I can be wide-awake if need be, and I +don't let clouds come before my eyes, for I know where the shoe pinches +me; I say so, because with me the good will have support and protection, +and the bad neither footing nor access. And it seems to me that, in +governments, to make a beginning is everything; and maybe, after having +been governor a fortnight, I'll take kindly to the work and know more +about it than the field labour I have been brought up to." + +"You are right, Sancho," said the duchess, "for no one is born ready +taught, and the bishops are made out of men and not out of stones. But to +return to the subject we were discussing just now, the enchantment of the +lady Dulcinea, I look upon it as certain, and something more than +evident, that Sancho's idea of practising a deception upon his master, +making him believe that the peasant girl was Dulcinea and that if he did +not recognise her it must be because she was enchanted, was all a device +of one of the enchanters that persecute Don Quixote. For in truth and +earnest, I know from good authority that the coarse country wench who +jumped up on the ass was and is Dulcinea del Toboso, and that worthy +Sancho, though he fancies himself the deceiver, is the one that is +deceived; and that there is no more reason to doubt the truth of this, +than of anything else we never saw. Senor Sancho Panza must know that we +too have enchanters here that are well disposed to us, and tell us what +goes on in the world, plainly and distinctly, without subterfuge or +deception; and believe me, Sancho, that agile country lass was and is +Dulcinea del Toboso, who is as much enchanted as the mother that bore +her; and when we least expect it, we shall see her in her own proper +form, and then Sancho will be disabused of the error he is under at +present." + +"All that's very possible," said Sancho Panza; "and now I'm willing to +believe what my master says about what he saw in the cave of Montesinos, +where he says he saw the lady Dulcinea del Toboso in the very same dress +and apparel that I said I had seen her in when I enchanted her all to +please myself. It must be all exactly the other way, as your ladyship +says; because it is impossible to suppose that out of my poor wit such a +cunning trick could be concocted in a moment, nor do I think my master is +so mad that by my weak and feeble persuasion he could be made to believe +a thing so out of all reason. But, senora, your excellence must not +therefore think me ill-disposed, for a dolt like me is not bound to see +into the thoughts and plots of those vile enchanters. I invented all that +to escape my master's scolding, and not with any intention of hurting +him; and if it has turned out differently, there is a God in heaven who +judges our hearts." + +"That is true," said the duchess; "but tell me, Sancho, what is this you +say about the cave of Montesinos, for I should like to know." + +Sancho upon this related to her, word for word, what has been said +already touching that adventure, and having heard it the duchess said, +"From this occurrence it may be inferred that, as the great Don Quixote +says he saw there the same country wench Sancho saw on the way from El +Toboso, it is, no doubt, Dulcinea, and that there are some very active +and exceedingly busy enchanters about." + +"So I say," said Sancho, "and if my lady Dulcinea is enchanted, so much +the worse for her, and I'm not going to pick a quarrel with my master's +enemies, who seem to be many and spiteful. The truth is that the one I +saw was a country wench, and I set her down to be a country wench; and if +that was Dulcinea it must not be laid at my door, nor should I be called +to answer for it or take the consequences. But they must go nagging at me +at every step--'Sancho said it, Sancho did it, Sancho here, Sancho +there,' as if Sancho was nobody at all, and not that same Sancho Panza +that's now going all over the world in books, so Samson Carrasco told me, +and he's at any rate one that's a bachelor of Salamanca; and people of +that sort can't lie, except when the whim seizes them or they have some +very good reason for it. So there's no occasion for anybody to quarrel +with me; and then I have a good character, and, as I have heard my master +say, 'a good name is better than great riches;' let them only stick me +into this government and they'll see wonders, for one who has been a good +squire will be a good governor." + +"All worthy Sancho's observations," said the duchess, "are Catonian +sentences, or at any rate out of the very heart of Michael Verino +himself, who florentibus occidit annis. In fact, to speak in his own +style, 'under a bad cloak there's often a good drinker.'" + +"Indeed, senora," said Sancho, "I never yet drank out of wickedness; from +thirst I have very likely, for I have nothing of the hypocrite in me; I +drink when I'm inclined, or, if I'm not inclined, when they offer it to +me, so as not to look either strait-laced or ill-bred; for when a friend +drinks one's health what heart can be so hard as not to return it? But if +I put on my shoes I don't dirty them; besides, squires to knights-errant +mostly drink water, for they are always wandering among woods, forests +and meadows, mountains and crags, without a drop of wine to be had if +they gave their eyes for it." + +"So I believe," said the duchess; "and now let Sancho go and take his +sleep, and we will talk by-and-by at greater length, and settle how he +may soon go and stick himself into the government, as he says." + +Sancho once more kissed the duchess's hand, and entreated her to let good +care be taken of his Dapple, for he was the light of his eyes. + +"What is Dapple?" said the duchess. + +"My ass," said Sancho, "which, not to mention him by that name, I'm +accustomed to call Dapple; I begged this lady duenna here to take care of +him when I came into the castle, and she got as angry as if I had said +she was ugly or old, though it ought to be more natural and proper for +duennas to feed asses than to ornament chambers. God bless me! what a +spite a gentleman of my village had against these ladies!" + +"He must have been some clown," said Dona Rodriguez the duenna; "for if +he had been a gentleman and well-born he would have exalted them higher +than the horns of the moon." + +"That will do," said the duchess; "no more of this; hush, Dona Rodriguez, +and let Senor Panza rest easy and leave the treatment of Dapple in my +charge, for as he is a treasure of Sancho's, I'll put him on the apple of +my eye." + +"It will be enough for him to be in the stable," said Sancho, "for +neither he nor I are worthy to rest a moment in the apple of your +highness's eye, and I'd as soon stab myself as consent to it; for though +my master says that in civilities it is better to lose by a card too many +than a card too few, when it comes to civilities to asses we must mind +what we are about and keep within due bounds." + +"Take him to your government, Sancho," said the duchess, "and there you +will be able to make as much of him as you like, and even release him +from work and pension him off." + +"Don't think, senora duchess, that you have said anything absurd," said +Sancho; "I have seen more than two asses go to governments, and for me to +take mine with me would be nothing new." + +Sancho's words made the duchess laugh again and gave her fresh amusement, +and dismissing him to sleep she went away to tell the duke the +conversation she had had with him, and between them they plotted and +arranged to play a joke upon Don Quixote that was to be a rare one and +entirely in knight-errantry style, and in that same style they practised +several upon him, so much in keeping and so clever that they form the +best adventures this great history contains. + +Chapter XXXIV. - +Which relates how they learned the way in which they were to disenchant +the peerless Dulcinea Del Toboso, which is one of the rarest adventures +in this book + +Great was the pleasure the duke and duchess took in the conversation of +Don Quixote and Sancho Panza; and, more bent than ever upon the plan they +had of practising some jokes upon them that should have the look and +appearance of adventures, they took as their basis of action what Don +Quixote had already told them about the cave of Montesinos, in order to +play him a famous one. But what the duchess marvelled at above all was +that Sancho's simplicity could be so great as to make him believe as +absolute truth that Dulcinea had been enchanted, when it was he himself +who had been the enchanter and trickster in the business. Having, +therefore, instructed their servants in everything they were to do, six +days afterwards they took him out to hunt, with as great a retinue of +huntsmen and beaters as a crowned king. + +They presented Don Quixote with a hunting suit, and Sancho with another +of the finest green cloth; but Don Quixote declined to put his on, saying +that he must soon return to the hard pursuit of arms, and could not carry +wardrobes or stores with him. Sancho, however, took what they gave him, +meaning to sell it the first opportunity. + +The appointed day having arrived, Don Quixote armed himself, and Sancho +arrayed himself, and mounted on his Dapple (for he would not give him up +though they offered him a horse), he placed himself in the midst of the +troop of huntsmen. The duchess came out splendidly attired, and Don +Quixote, in pure courtesy and politeness, held the rein of her palfrey, +though the duke wanted not to allow him; and at last they reached a wood +that lay between two high mountains, where, after occupying various +posts, ambushes, and paths, and distributing the party in different +positions, the hunt began with great noise, shouting, and hallooing, so +that, between the baying of the hounds and the blowing of the horns, they +could not hear one another. The duchess dismounted, and with a sharp +boar-spear in her hand posted herself where she knew the wild boars were +in the habit of passing. The duke and Don Quixote likewise dismounted and +placed themselves one at each side of her. Sancho took up a position in +the rear of all without dismounting from Dapple, whom he dared not desert +lest some mischief should befall him. Scarcely had they taken their stand +in a line with several of their servants, when they saw a huge boar, +closely pressed by the hounds and followed by the huntsmen, making +towards them, grinding his teeth and tusks, and scattering foam from his +mouth. As soon as he saw him Don Quixote, bracing his shield on his arm, +and drawing his sword, advanced to meet him; the duke with boar-spear did +the same; but the duchess would have gone in front of them all had not +the duke prevented her. Sancho alone, deserting Dapple at the sight of +the mighty beast, took to his heels as hard as he could and strove in +vain to mount a tall oak. As he was clinging to a branch, however, +half-way up in his struggle to reach the top, the bough, such was his +ill-luck and hard fate, gave way, and caught in his fall by a broken limb +of the oak, he hung suspended in the air unable to reach the ground. +Finding himself in this position, and that the green coat was beginning +to tear, and reflecting that if the fierce animal came that way he might +be able to get at him, he began to utter such cries, and call for help so +earnestly, that all who heard him and did not see him felt sure he must +be in the teeth of some wild beast. In the end the tusked boar fell +pierced by the blades of the many spears they held in front of him; and +Don Quixote, turning round at the cries of Sancho, for he knew by them +that it was he, saw him hanging from the oak head downwards, with Dapple, +who did not forsake him in his distress, close beside him; and Cide +Hamete observes that he seldom saw Sancho Panza without seeing Dapple, or +Dapple without seeing Sancho Panza; such was their attachment and loyalty +one to the other. Don Quixote went over and unhooked Sancho, who, as soon +as he found himself on the ground, looked at the rent in his huntingcoat +and was grieved to the heart, for he thought he had got a patrimonial +estate in that suit. + +Meanwhile they had slung the mighty boar across the back of a mule, and +having covered it with sprigs of rosemary and branches of myrtle, they +bore it away as the spoils of victory to some large field-tents which had +been pitched in the middle of the wood, where they found the tables laid +and dinner served, in such grand and sumptuous style that it was easy to +see the rank and magnificence of those who had provided it. Sancho, as he +showed the rents in his torn suit to the duchess, observed, "If we had +been hunting hares, or after small birds, my coat would have been safe +from being in the plight it's in; I don't know what pleasure one can find +in lying in wait for an animal that may take your life with his tusk if +he gets at you. I recollect having heard an old ballad sung that says, + +poem{ + + By bears be thou devoured, as erst + Was famous Favila." + +}poem + +"That," said Don Quixote, "was a Gothic king, who, going a-hunting, was +devoured by a bear." + +"Just so," said Sancho; "and I would not have kings and princes expose +themselves to such dangers for the sake of a pleasure which, to my mind, +ought not to be one, as it consists in killing an animal that has done no +harm whatever." + +"Quite the contrary, Sancho; you are wrong there," said the duke; "for +hunting is more suitable and requisite for kings and princes than for +anybody else. The chase is the emblem of war; it has stratagems, wiles, +and crafty devices for overcoming the enemy in safety; in it extreme cold +and intolerable heat have to be borne, indolence and sleep are despised, +the bodily powers are invigorated, the limbs of him who engages in it are +made supple, and, in a word, it is a pursuit which may be followed +without injury to anyone and with enjoyment to many; and the best of it +is, it is not for everybody, as field-sports of other sorts are, except +hawking, which also is only for kings and great lords. Reconsider your +opinion therefore, Sancho, and when you are governor take to hunting, and +you will find the good of it." + +"Nay," said Sancho, "the good governor should have a broken leg and keep +at home;" it would be a nice thing if, after people had been at the +trouble of coming to look for him on business, the governor were to be +away in the forest enjoying himself; the government would go on badly in +that fashion. By my faith, senor, hunting and amusements are more fit for +idlers than for governors; what I intend to amuse myself with is playing +all fours at Eastertime, and bowls on Sundays and holidays; for these +huntings don't suit my condition or agree with my conscience." + +"God grant it may turn out so," said the duke; "because it's a long step +from saying to doing." + +"Be that as it may," said Sancho, "'pledges don't distress a good payer,' +and 'he whom God helps does better than he who gets up early,' and 'it's +the tripes that carry the feet and not the feet the tripes;' I mean to +say that if God gives me help and I do my duty honestly, no doubt I'll +govern better than a gerfalcon. Nay, let them only put a finger in my +mouth, and they'll see whether I can bite or not." + +"The curse of God and all his saints upon thee, thou accursed Sancho!" +exclaimed Don Quixote; "when will the day come--as I have often said to +thee--when I shall hear thee make one single coherent, rational remark +without proverbs? Pray, your highnesses, leave this fool alone, for he +will grind your souls between, not to say two, but two thousand proverbs, +dragged in as much in season, and as much to the purpose as--may God +grant as much health to him, or to me if I want to listen to them!" + +"Sancho Panza's proverbs," said the duchess, "though more in number than +the Greek Commander's, are not therefore less to be esteemed for the +conciseness of the maxims. For my own part, I can say they give me more +pleasure than others that may be better brought in and more seasonably +introduced." + +In pleasant conversation of this sort they passed out of the tent into +the wood, and the day was spent in visiting some of the posts and +hiding-places, and then night closed in, not, however, as brilliantly or +tranquilly as might have been expected at the season, for it was then +midsummer; but bringing with it a kind of haze that greatly aided the +project of the duke and duchess; and thus, as night began to fall, and a +little after twilight set in, suddenly the whole wood on all four sides +seemed to be on fire, and shortly after, here, there, on all sides, a +vast number of trumpets and other military instruments were heard, as if +several troops of cavalry were passing through the wood. The blaze of the +fire and the noise of the warlike instruments almost blinded the eyes and +deafened the ears of those that stood by, and indeed of all who were in +the wood. Then there were heard repeated lelilies after the fashion of +the Moors when they rush to battle; trumpets and clarions brayed, drums +beat, fifes played, so unceasingly and so fast that he could not have had +any senses who did not lose them with the confused din of so many +instruments. The duke was astounded, the duchess amazed, Don Quixote +wondering, Sancho Panza trembling, and indeed, even they who were aware +of the cause were frightened. In their fear, silence fell upon them, and +a postillion, in the guise of a demon, passed in front of them, blowing, +in lieu of a bugle, a huge hollow horn that gave out a horrible hoarse +note. + +"Ho there! brother courier," cried the duke, "who are you? Where are you +going? What troops are these that seem to be passing through the wood?" + +To which the courier replied in a harsh, discordant voice, "I am the +devil; I am in search of Don Quixote of La Mancha; those who are coming +this way are six troops of enchanters, who are bringing on a triumphal +car the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso; she comes under enchantment, +together with the gallant Frenchman Montesinos, to give instructions to +Don Quixote as to how, she the said lady, may be disenchanted." + +"If you were the devil, as you say and as your appearance indicates," +said the duke, "you would have known the said knight Don Quixote of La +Mancha, for you have him here before you." + +"By God and upon my conscience," said the devil, "I never observed it, +for my mind is occupied with so many different things that I was +forgetting the main thing I came about." + +"This demon must be an honest fellow and a good Christian," said Sancho; +"for if he wasn't he wouldn't swear by God and his conscience; I feel +sure now there must be good souls even in hell itself." + +Without dismounting, the demon then turned to Don Quixote and said, "The +unfortunate but valiant knight Montesinos sends me to thee, the Knight of +the Lions (would that I saw thee in their claws), bidding me tell thee to +wait for him wherever I may find thee, as he brings with him her whom +they call Dulcinea del Toboso, that he may show thee what is needful in +order to disenchant her; and as I came for no more I need stay no longer; +demons of my sort be with thee, and good angels with these gentles;" and +so saying he blew his huge horn, turned about and went off without +waiting for a reply from anyone. + +They all felt fresh wonder, but particularly Sancho and Don Quixote; +Sancho to see how, in defiance of the truth, they would have it that +Dulcinea was enchanted; Don Quixote because he could not feel sure +whether what had happened to him in the cave of Montesinos was true or +not; and as he was deep in these cogitations the duke said to him, "Do +you mean to wait, Senor Don Quixote?" + +"Why not?" replied he; "here will I wait, fearless and firm, though all +hell should come to attack me." + +"Well then, if I see another devil or hear another horn like the last, +I'll wait here as much as in Flanders," said Sancho. + +Night now closed in more completely, and many lights began to flit +through the wood, just as those fiery exhalations from the earth, that +look like shooting-stars to our eyes, flit through the heavens; a +frightful noise, too, was heard, like that made by the solid wheels the +ox-carts usually have, by the harsh, ceaseless creaking of which, they +say, the bears and wolves are put to flight, if there happen to be any +where they are passing. In addition to all this commotion, there came a +further disturbance to increase the tumult, for now it seemed as if in +truth, on all four sides of the wood, four encounters or battles were +going on at the same time; in one quarter resounded the dull noise of a +terrible cannonade, in another numberless muskets were being discharged, +the shouts of the combatants sounded almost close at hand, and farther +away the Moorish lelilies were raised again and again. In a word, the +bugles, the horns, the clarions, the trumpets, the drums, the cannon, the +musketry, and above all the tremendous noise of the carts, all made up +together a din so confused and terrific that Don Quixote had need to +summon up all his courage to brave it; but Sancho's gave way, and he fell +fainting on the skirt of the duchess's robe, who let him lie there and +promptly bade them throw water in his face. This was done, and he came to +himself by the time that one of the carts with the creaking wheels +reached the spot. It was drawn by four plodding oxen all covered with +black housings; on each horn they had fixed a large lighted wax taper, +and on the top of the cart was constructed a raised seat, on which sat a +venerable old man with a beard whiter than the very snow, and so long +that it fell below his waist; he was dressed in a long robe of black +buckram; for as the cart was thickly set with a multitude of candles it +was easy to make out everything that was on it. Leading it were two +hideous demons, also clad in buckram, with countenances so frightful that +Sancho, having once seen them, shut his eyes so as not to see them again. +As soon as the cart came opposite the spot the old man rose from his +lofty seat, and standing up said in a loud voice, "I am the sage +Lirgandeo," and without another word the cart then passed on. Behind it +came another of the same form, with another aged man enthroned, who, +stopping the cart, said in a voice no less solemn than that of the first, +"I am the sage Alquife, the great friend of Urganda the Unknown," and +passed on. Then another cart came by at the same pace, but the occupant +of the throne was not old like the others, but a man stalwart and robust, +and of a forbidding countenance, who as he came up said in a voice far +hoarser and more devilish, "I am the enchanter Archelaus, the mortal +enemy of Amadis of Gaul and all his kindred," and then passed on. Having +gone a short distance the three carts halted and the monotonous noise of +their wheels ceased, and soon after they heard another, not noise, but +sound of sweet, harmonious music, of which Sancho was very glad, taking +it to be a good sign; and said he to the duchess, from whom he did not +stir a step, or for a single instant, "Senora, where there's music there +can't be mischief." + +"Nor where there are lights and it is bright," said the duchess; to which +Sancho replied, "Fire gives light, and it's bright where there are +bonfires, as we see by those that are all round us and perhaps may burn +us; but music is a sign of mirth and merrymaking." + +"That remains to be seen," said Don Quixote, who was listening to all +that passed; and he was right, as is shown in the following chapter. + +Chapter XXXV. - +Wherein is continued the instruction given to Don Quixote touching the +disenchantment of Dulcinea, together with other marvellous incidents + +They saw advancing towards them, to the sound of this pleasing music, +what they call a triumphal car, drawn by six grey mules with white linen +housings, on each of which was mounted a penitent, robed also in white, +with a large lighted wax taper in his hand. The car was twice or, +perhaps, three times as large as the former ones, and in front and on the +sides stood twelve more penitents, all as white as snow and all with +lighted tapers, a spectacle to excite fear as well as wonder; and on a +raised throne was seated a nymph draped in a multitude of silver-tissue +veils with an embroidery of countless gold spangles glittering all over +them, that made her appear, if not richly, at least brilliantly, +apparelled. She had her face covered with thin transparent sendal, the +texture of which did not prevent the fair features of a maiden from being +distinguished, while the numerous lights made it possible to judge of her +beauty and of her years, which seemed to be not less than seventeen but +not to have yet reached twenty. Beside her was a figure in a robe of +state, as they call it, reaching to the feet, while the head was covered +with a black veil. But the instant the car was opposite the duke and +duchess and Don Quixote the music of the clarions ceased, and then that +of the lutes and harps on the car, and the figure in the robe rose up, +and flinging it apart and removing the veil from its face, disclosed to +their eyes the shape of Death itself, fleshless and hideous, at which +sight Don Quixote felt uneasy, Sancho frightened, and the duke and +duchess displayed a certain trepidation. Having risen to its feet, this +living death, in a sleepy voice and with a tongue hardly awake, held +forth as follows: + +poem{ + +I am that Merlin who the legends say +The devil had for father, and the lie +Hath gathered credence with the lapse of time. +Of magic prince, of Zoroastric lore +Monarch and treasurer, with jealous eye +I view the efforts of the age to hide +The gallant deeds of doughty errant knights, +Who are, and ever have been, dear to me. + Enchanters and magicians and their kind + +Are mostly hard of heart; not so am I; +For mine is tender, soft, compassionate, +And its delight is doing good to all. +In the dim caverns of the gloomy Dis, +Where, tracing mystic lines and characters, +My soul abideth now, there came to me +The sorrow-laden plaint of her, the fair, +The peerless Dulcinea del Toboso. +I knew of her enchantment and her fate, +From high-born dame to peasant wench transformed +And touched with pity, first I turned the leaves +Of countless volumes of my devilish craft, +And then, in this grim grisly skeleton +Myself encasing, hither have I come +To show where lies the fitting remedy +To give relief in such a piteous case. + O thou, the pride and pink of all that wear + +The adamantine steel! O shining light, +O beacon, polestar, path and guide of all +Who, scorning slumber and the lazy down, +Adopt the toilsome life of bloodstained arms! +To thee, great hero who all praise transcends, +La Mancha's lustre and Iberia's star, +Don Quixote, wise as brave, to thee I say-- +For peerless Dulcinea del Toboso +Her pristine form and beauty to regain, +'T is needful that thy esquire Sancho shall, +On his own sturdy buttocks bared to heaven, +Three thousand and three hundred lashes lay, +And that they smart and sting and hurt him well. +Thus have the authors of her woe resolved. +And this is, gentles, wherefore I have come. + +}poem + +"By all that's good," exclaimed Sancho at this, "I'll just as soon give +myself three stabs with a dagger as three, not to say three thousand, +lashes. The devil take such a way of disenchanting! I don't see what my +backside has got to do with enchantments. By God, if Senor Merlin has not +found out some other way of disenchanting the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, +she may go to her grave enchanted." + +"But I'll take you, Don Clown stuffed with garlic," said Don Quixote, +"and tie you to a tree as naked as when your mother brought you forth, +and give you, not to say three thousand three hundred, but six thousand +six hundred lashes, and so well laid on that they won't be got rid of if +you try three thousand three hundred times; don't answer me a word or +I'll tear your soul out." + +On hearing this Merlin said, "That will not do, for the lashes worthy +Sancho has to receive must be given of his own free will and not by +force, and at whatever time he pleases, for there is no fixed limit +assigned to him; but it is permitted him, if he likes to commute by half +the pain of this whipping, to let them be given by the hand of another, +though it may be somewhat weighty." + +"Not a hand, my own or anybody else's, weighty or weighable, shall touch +me," said Sancho. "Was it I that gave birth to the lady Dulcinea del +Toboso, that my backside is to pay for the sins of her eyes? My master, +indeed, that's a part of her--for, he's always calling her 'my life' and +'my soul,' and his stay and prop--may and ought to whip himself for her +and take all the trouble required for her disenchantment. But for me to +whip myself! Abernuncio!" + +As soon as Sancho had done speaking the nymph in silver that was at the +side of Merlin's ghost stood up, and removing the thin veil from her face +disclosed one that seemed to all something more than exceedingly +beautiful; and with a masculine freedom from embarrassment and in a voice +not very like a lady's, addressing Sancho directly, said, "Thou wretched +squire, soul of a pitcher, heart of a cork tree, with bowels of flint and +pebbles; if, thou impudent thief, they bade thee throw thyself down from +some lofty tower; if, enemy of mankind, they asked thee to swallow a +dozen of toads, two of lizards, and three of adders; if they wanted thee +to slay thy wife and children with a sharp murderous scimitar, it would +be no wonder for thee to show thyself stubborn and squeamish. But to make +a piece of work about three thousand three hundred lashes, what every +poor little charity-boy gets every month--it is enough to amaze, +astonish, astound the compassionate bowels of all who hear it, nay, all +who come to hear it in the course of time. Turn, O miserable, +hard-hearted animal, turn, I say, those timorous owl's eyes upon these of +mine that are compared to radiant stars, and thou wilt see them weeping +trickling streams and rills, and tracing furrows, tracks, and paths over +the fair fields of my cheeks. Let it move thee, crafty, ill-conditioned +monster, to see my blooming youth--still in its teens, for I am not yet +twenty--wasting and withering away beneath the husk of a rude peasant +wench; and if I do not appear in that shape now, it is a special favour +Senor Merlin here has granted me, to the sole end that my beauty may +soften thee; for the tears of beauty in distress turn rocks into cotton +and tigers into ewes. Lay on to that hide of thine, thou great untamed +brute, rouse up thy lusty vigour that only urges thee to eat and eat, and +set free the softness of my flesh, the gentleness of my nature, and the +fairness of my face. And if thou wilt not relent or come to reason for +me, do so for the sake of that poor knight thou hast beside thee; thy +master I mean, whose soul I can this moment see, how he has it stuck in +his throat not ten fingers from his lips, and only waiting for thy +inflexible or yielding reply to make its escape by his mouth or go back +again into his stomach." + +Don Quixote on hearing this felt his throat, and turning to the duke he +said, "By God, senor, Dulcinea says true, I have my soul stuck here in my +throat like the nut of a crossbow." + +"What say you to this, Sancho?" said the duchess. + +"I say, senora," returned Sancho, "what I said before; as for the lashes, +abernuncio!" + +"Abrenuncio, you should say, Sancho, and not as you do," said the duke. + +"Let me alone, your highness," said Sancho. "I'm not in a humour now to +look into niceties or a letter more or less, for these lashes that are to +be given me, or I'm to give myself, have so upset me, that I don't know +what I'm saying or doing. But I'd like to know of this lady, my lady +Dulcinea del Toboso, where she learned this way she has of asking +favours. She comes to ask me to score my flesh with lashes, and she calls +me soul of a pitcher, and great untamed brute, and a string of foul names +that the devil is welcome to. Is my flesh brass? or is it anything to me +whether she is enchanted or not? Does she bring with her a basket of fair +linen, shirts, kerchiefs, socks-not that wear any--to coax me? No, +nothing but one piece of abuse after another, though she knows the +proverb they have here that 'an ass loaded with gold goes lightly up a +mountain,' and that 'gifts break rocks,' and 'praying to God and plying +the hammer,' and that 'one "take" is better than two "I'll give thee's."' +Then there's my master, who ought to stroke me down and pet me to make me +turn wool and carded cotton; he says if he gets hold of me he'll tie me +naked to a tree and double the tale of lashes on me. These tender-hearted +gentry should consider that it's not merely a squire, but a governor they +are asking to whip himself; just as if it was 'drink with cherries.' Let +them learn, plague take them, the right way to ask, and beg, and behave +themselves; for all times are not alike, nor are people always in good +humour. I'm now ready to burst with grief at seeing my green coat torn, +and they come to ask me to whip myself of my own free will, I having as +little fancy for it as for turning cacique." + +"Well then, the fact is, friend Sancho," said the duke, "that unless you +become softer than a ripe fig, you shall not get hold of the government. +It would be a nice thing for me to send my islanders a cruel governor +with flinty bowels, who won't yield to the tears of afflicted damsels or +to the prayers of wise, magisterial, ancient enchanters and sages. In +short, Sancho, either you must be whipped by yourself, or they must whip +you, or you shan't be governor." + +"Senor," said Sancho, "won't two days' grace be given me in which to +consider what is best for me?" + +"No, certainly not," said Merlin; "here, this minute, and on the spot, +the matter must be settled; either Dulcinea will return to the cave of +Montesinos and to her former condition of peasant wench, or else in her +present form shall be carried to the Elysian fields, where she will +remain waiting until the number of stripes is completed." + +"Now then, Sancho!" said the duchess, "show courage, and gratitude for +your master Don Quixote's bread that you have eaten; we are all bound to +oblige and please him for his benevolent disposition and lofty chivalry. +Consent to this whipping, my son; to the devil with the devil, and leave +fear to milksops, for 'a stout heart breaks bad luck,' as you very well +know." + +To this Sancho replied with an irrelevant remark, which, addressing +Merlin, he made to him, "Will your worship tell me, Senor Merlin--when +that courier devil came up he gave my master a message from Senor +Montesinos, charging him to wait for him here, as he was coming to +arrange how the lady Dona Dulcinea del Toboso was to be disenchanted; but +up to the present we have not seen Montesinos, nor anything like him." + +To which Merlin made answer, "The devil, Sancho, is a blockhead and a +great scoundrel; I sent him to look for your master, but not with a +message from Montesinos but from myself; for Montesinos is in his cave +expecting, or more properly speaking, waiting for his disenchantment; for +there's the tail to be skinned yet for him; if he owes you anything, or +you have any business to transact with him, I'll bring him to you and put +him where you choose; but for the present make up your mind to consent to +this penance, and believe me it will be very good for you, for soul as +well for body--for your soul because of the charity with which you +perform it, for your body because I know that you are of a sanguine habit +and it will do you no harm to draw a little blood." + +"There are a great many doctors in the world; even the enchanters are +doctors," said Sancho; "however, as everybody tells me the same +thing--though I can't see it myself--I say I am willing to give myself +the three thousand three hundred lashes, provided I am to lay them on +whenever I like, without any fixing of days or times; and I'll try and +get out of debt as quickly as I can, that the world may enjoy the beauty +of the lady Dulcinea del Toboso; as it seems, contrary to what I thought, +that she is beautiful after all. It must be a condition, too, that I am +not to be bound to draw blood with the scourge, and that if any of the +lashes happen to be fly-flappers they are to count. Item, that, in case I +should make any mistake in the reckoning, Senor Merlin, as he knows +everything, is to keep count, and let me know how many are still wanting +or over the number." + +"There will be no need to let you know of any over," said Merlin, +"because, when you reach the full number, the lady Dulcinea will at once, +and that very instant, be disenchanted, and will come in her gratitude to +seek out the worthy Sancho, and thank him, and even reward him for the +good work. So you have no cause to be uneasy about stripes too many or +too few; heaven forbid I should cheat anyone of even a hair of his head." + +"Well then, in God's hands be it," said Sancho; "in the hard case I'm in +I give in; I say I accept the penance on the conditions laid down." + +The instant Sancho uttered these last words the music of the clarions +struck up once more, and again a host of muskets were discharged, and Don +Quixote hung on Sancho's neck kissing him again and again on the forehead +and cheeks. The duchess and the duke expressed the greatest satisfaction, +the car began to move on, and as it passed the fair Dulcinea bowed to the +duke and duchess and made a low curtsey to Sancho. + +And now bright smiling dawn came on apace; the flowers of the field, +revived, raised up their heads, and the crystal waters of the brooks, +murmuring over the grey and white pebbles, hastened to pay their tribute +to the expectant rivers; the glad earth, the unclouded sky, the fresh +breeze, the clear light, each and all showed that the day that came +treading on the skirts of morning would be calm and bright. The duke and +duchess, pleased with their hunt and at having carried out their plans so +cleverly and successfully, returned to their castle resolved to follow up +their joke; for to them there was no reality that could afford them more +amusement. + +Chapter XXXVI. - +Wherein is related the strange and undreamt-of adventure of the +distressed Duenna, alias the countess Trifaldi, together with a letter +which Sancho Panza wrote to his wife, Teresa Panza + +The duke had a majordomo of a very facetious and sportive turn, and he it +was that played the part of Merlin, made all the arrangements for the +late adventure, composed the verses, and got a page to represent +Dulcinea; and now, with the assistance of his master and mistress, he got +up another of the drollest and strangest contrivances that can be +imagined. + +The duchess asked Sancho the next day if he had made a beginning with his +penance task which he had to perform for the disenchantment of Dulcinea. +He said he had, and had given himself five lashes overnight. + +The duchess asked him what he had given them with. + +He said with his hand. + +"That," said the duchess, "is more like giving oneself slaps than lashes; +I am sure the sage Merlin will not be satisfied with such tenderness; +worthy Sancho must make a scourge with claws, or a cat-o'-nine tails, +that will make itself felt; for it's with blood that letters enter, and +the release of so great a lady as Dulcinea will not be granted so +cheaply, or at such a paltry price; and remember, Sancho, that works of +charity done in a lukewarm and half-hearted way are without merit and of +no avail." + +To which Sancho replied, "If your ladyship will give me a proper scourge +or cord, I'll lay on with it, provided it does not hurt too much; for you +must know, boor as I am, my flesh is more cotton than hemp, and it won't +do for me to destroy myself for the good of anybody else." + +"So be it by all means," said the duchess; "tomorrow I'll give you a +scourge that will be just the thing for you, and will accommodate itself +to the tenderness of your flesh, as if it was its own sister." + +Then said Sancho, "Your highness must know, dear lady of my soul, that I +have a letter written to my wife, Teresa Panza, giving her an account of +all that has happened me since I left her; I have it here in my bosom, +and there's nothing wanting but to put the address to it; I'd be glad if +your discretion would read it, for I think it runs in the governor style; +I mean the way governors ought to write." + +"And who dictated it?" asked the duchess. + +"Who should have dictated but myself, sinner as I am?" said Sancho. + +"And did you write it yourself?" said the duchess. + +"That I didn't," said Sancho; "for I can neither read nor write, though I +can sign my name." + +"Let us see it," said the duchess, "for never fear but you display in it +the quality and quantity of your wit." + +Sancho drew out an open letter from his bosom, and the duchess, taking +it, found it ran in this fashion: + +SANCHO PANZA'S LETTER TO HIS WIFE, TERESA PANZA + +If I was well whipped I went mounted like a gentleman; if I have got a +good government it is at the cost of a good whipping. Thou wilt not +understand this just now, my Teresa; by-and-by thou wilt know what it +means. I may tell thee, Teresa, I mean thee to go in a coach, for that is +a matter of importance, because every other way of going is going on +all-fours. Thou art a governor's wife; take care that nobody speaks evil +of thee behind thy back. I send thee here a green hunting suit that my +lady the duchess gave me; alter it so as to make a petticoat and bodice +for our daughter. Don Quixote, my master, if I am to believe what I hear +in these parts, is a madman of some sense, and a droll blockhead, and I +am no way behind him. We have been in the cave of Montesinos, and the +sage Merlin has laid hold of me for the disenchantment of Dulcinea del +Toboso, her that is called Aldonza Lorenzo over there. With three +thousand three hundred lashes, less five, that I'm to give myself, she +will be left as entirely disenchanted as the mother that bore her. Say +nothing of this to anyone; for, make thy affairs public, and some will +say they are white and others will say they are black. I shall leave this +in a few days for my government, to which I am going with a mighty great +desire to make money, for they tell me all new governors set out with the +same desire; I will feel the pulse of it and will let thee know if thou +art to come and live with me or not. Dapple is well and sends many +remembrances to thee; I am not going to leave him behind though they took +me away to be Grand Turk. My lady the duchess kisses thy hands a thousand +times; do thou make a return with two thousand, for as my master says, +nothing costs less or is cheaper than civility. God has not been pleased +to provide another valise for me with another hundred crowns, like the +one the other day; but never mind, my Teresa, the bell-ringer is in safe +quarters, and all will come out in the scouring of the government; only +it troubles me greatly what they tell me--that once I have tasted it I +will eat my hands off after it; and if that is so it will not come very +cheap to me; though to be sure the maimed have a benefice of their own in +the alms they beg for; so that one way or another thou wilt be rich and +in luck. God give it to thee as he can, and keep me to serve thee. From +this castle, the 20th of July, 1614. + +Thy husband, the governor. + +SANCHO PANZA + +When she had done reading the letter the duchess said to Sancho, "On two +points the worthy governor goes rather astray; one is in saying or +hinting that this government has been bestowed upon him for the lashes +that he is to give himself, when he knows (and he cannot deny it) that +when my lord the duke promised it to him nobody ever dreamt of such a +thing as lashes; the other is that he shows himself here to be very +covetous; and I would not have him a money-seeker, for 'covetousness +bursts the bag,' and the covetous governor does ungoverned justice." + +"I don't mean it that way, senora," said Sancho; "and if you think the +letter doesn't run as it ought to do, it's only to tear it up and make +another; and maybe it will be a worse one if it is left to my gumption." + +"No, no," said the duchess, "this one will do, and I wish the duke to see +it." + +With this they betook themselves to a garden where they were to dine, and +the duchess showed Sancho's letter to the duke, who was highly delighted +with it. They dined, and after the cloth had been removed and they had +amused themselves for a while with Sancho's rich conversation, the +melancholy sound of a fife and harsh discordant drum made itself heard. +All seemed somewhat put out by this dull, confused, martial harmony, +especially Don Quixote, who could not keep his seat from pure +disquietude; as to Sancho, it is needless to say that fear drove him to +his usual refuge, the side or the skirts of the duchess; and indeed and +in truth the sound they heard was a most doleful and melancholy one. +While they were still in uncertainty they saw advancing towards them +through the garden two men clad in mourning robes so long and flowing +that they trailed upon the ground. As they marched they beat two great +drums which were likewise draped in black, and beside them came the fife +player, black and sombre like the others. Following these came a +personage of gigantic stature enveloped rather than clad in a gown of the +deepest black, the skirt of which was of prodigious dimensions. Over the +gown, girdling or crossing his figure, he had a broad baldric which was +also black, and from which hung a huge scimitar with a black scabbard and +furniture. He had his face covered with a transparent black veil, through +which might be descried a very long beard as white as snow. He came on +keeping step to the sound of the drums with great gravity and dignity; +and, in short, his stature, his gait, the sombreness of his appearance +and his following might well have struck with astonishment, as they did, +all who beheld him without knowing who he was. With this measured pace +and in this guise he advanced to kneel before the duke, who, with the +others, awaited him standing. The duke, however, would not on any account +allow him to speak until he had risen. The prodigious scarecrow obeyed, +and standing up, removed the veil from his face and disclosed the most +enormous, the longest, the whitest and the thickest beard that human eyes +had ever beheld until that moment, and then fetching up a grave, sonorous +voice from the depths of his broad, capacious chest, and fixing his eyes +on the duke, he said: + +"Most high and mighty senor, my name is Trifaldin of the White Beard; I +am squire to the Countess Trifaldi, otherwise called the Distressed +Duenna, on whose behalf I bear a message to your highness, which is that +your magnificence will be pleased to grant her leave and permission to +come and tell you her trouble, which is one of the strangest and most +wonderful that the mind most familiar with trouble in the world could +have imagined; but first she desires to know if the valiant and never +vanquished knight, Don Quixote of La Mancha, is in this your castle, for +she has come in quest of him on foot and without breaking her fast from +the kingdom of Kandy to your realms here; a thing which may and ought to +be regarded as a miracle or set down to enchantment; she is even now at +the gate of this fortress or plaisance, and only waits for your +permission to enter. I have spoken." And with that he coughed, and +stroked down his beard with both his hands, and stood very tranquilly +waiting for the response of the duke, which was to this effect: "Many +days ago, worthy squire Trifaldin of the White Beard, we heard of the +misfortune of my lady the Countess Trifaldi, whom the enchanters have +caused to be called the Distressed Duenna. Bid her enter, O stupendous +squire, and tell her that the valiant knight Don Quixote of La Mancha is +here, and from his generous disposition she may safely promise herself +every protection and assistance; and you may tell her, too, that if my +aid be necessary it will not be withheld, for I am bound to give it to +her by my quality of knight, which involves the protection of women of +all sorts, especially widowed, wronged, and distressed dames, such as her +ladyship seems to be." + +On hearing this Trifaldin bent the knee to the ground, and making a sign +to the fifer and drummers to strike up, he turned and marched out of the +garden to the same notes and at the same pace as when he entered, leaving +them all amazed at his bearing and solemnity. Turning to Don Quixote, the +duke said, "After all, renowned knight, the mists of malice and ignorance +are unable to hide or obscure the light of valour and virtue. I say so, +because your excellence has been barely six days in this castle, and +already the unhappy and the afflicted come in quest of you from lands far +distant and remote, and not in coaches or on dromedaries, but on foot and +fasting, confident that in that mighty arm they will find a cure for +their sorrows and troubles; thanks to your great achievements, which are +circulated all over the known earth." + +"I wish, senor duke," replied Don Quixote, "that blessed ecclesiastic, +who at table the other day showed such ill-will and bitter spite against +knights-errant, were here now to see with his own eyes whether knights of +the sort are needed in the world; he would at any rate learn by +experience that those suffering any extraordinary affliction or sorrow, +in extreme cases and unusual misfortunes do not go to look for a remedy +to the houses of jurists or village sacristans, or to the knight who has +never attempted to pass the bounds of his own town, or to the indolent +courtier who only seeks for news to repeat and talk of, instead of +striving to do deeds and exploits for others to relate and record. Relief +in distress, help in need, protection for damsels, consolation for +widows, are to be found in no sort of persons better than in +knights-errant; and I give unceasing thanks to heaven that I am one, and +regard any misfortune or suffering that may befall me in the pursuit of +so honourable a calling as endured to good purpose. Let this duenna come +and ask what she will, for I will effect her relief by the might of my +arm and the dauntless resolution of my bold heart." + +Chapter XXXVII. - +Wherein is continued the notable adventure of the distressed Duenna + +The duke and duchess were extremely glad to see how readily Don Quixote +fell in with their scheme; but at this moment Sancho observed, "I hope +this senora duenna won't be putting any difficulties in the way of the +promise of my government; for I have heard a Toledo apothecary, who +talked like a goldfinch, say that where duennas were mixed up nothing +good could happen. God bless me, how he hated them, that same apothecary! +And so what I'm thinking is, if all duennas, of whatever sort or +condition they may be, are plagues and busybodies, what must they be that +are distressed, like this Countess Three-skirts or Three-tails!--for in +my country skirts or tails, tails or skirts, it's all one." + +"Hush, friend Sancho," said Don Quixote; "since this lady duenna comes in +quest of me from such a distant land she cannot be one of those the +apothecary meant; moreover this is a countess, and when countesses serve +as duennas it is in the service of queens and empresses, for in their own +houses they are mistresses paramount and have other duennas to wait on +them." + +To this Dona Rodriguez, who was present, made answer, "My lady the +duchess has duennas in her service that might be countesses if it was the +will of fortune; 'but laws go as kings like;' let nobody speak ill of +duennas, above all of ancient maiden ones; for though I am not one +myself, I know and am aware of the advantage a maiden duenna has over one +that is a widow; but 'he who clipped us has kept the scissors.'" + +"For all that," said Sancho, "there's so much to be clipped about +duennas, so my barber said, that 'it will be better not to stir the rice +even though it sticks.'" + +"These squires," returned Dona Rodriguez, "are always our enemies; and as +they are the haunting spirits of the antechambers and watch us at every +step, whenever they are not saying their prayers (and that's often +enough) they spend their time in tattling about us, digging up our bones +and burying our good name. But I can tell these walking blocks that we +will live in spite of them, and in great houses too, though we die of +hunger and cover our flesh, be it delicate or not, with widow's weeds, as +one covers or hides a dunghill on a procession day. By my faith, if it +were permitted me and time allowed, I could prove, not only to those here +present, but to all the world, that there is no virtue that is not to be +found in a duenna." + +"I have no doubt," said the duchess, "that my good Dona Rodriguez is +right, and very much so; but she had better bide her time for fighting +her own battle and that of the rest of the duennas, so as to crush the +calumny of that vile apothecary, and root out the prejudice in the great +Sancho Panza's mind." + +To which Sancho replied, "Ever since I have sniffed the governorship I +have got rid of the humours of a squire, and I don't care a wild fig for +all the duennas in the world." + +They would have carried on this duenna dispute further had they not heard +the notes of the fife and drums once more, from which they concluded that +the Distressed Duenna was making her entrance. The duchess asked the duke +if it would be proper to go out to receive her, as she was a countess and +a person of rank. + +"In respect of her being a countess," said Sancho, before the duke could +reply, "I am for your highnesses going out to receive her; but in respect +of her being a duenna, it is my opinion you should not stir a step." + +"Who bade thee meddle in this, Sancho?" said Don Quixote. + +"Who, senor?" said Sancho; "I meddle for I have a right to meddle, as a +squire who has learned the rules of courtesy in the school of your +worship, the most courteous and best-bred knight in the whole world of +courtliness; and in these things, as I have heard your worship say, as +much is lost by a card too many as by a card too few, and to one who has +his ears open, few words." + +"Sancho is right," said the duke; "we'll see what the countess is like, +and by that measure the courtesy that is due to her." + +And now the drums and fife made their entrance as before; and here the +author brought this short chapter to an end and began the next, following +up the same adventure, which is one of the most notable in the history. + +Chapter XXXVIII. - +Wherein is told the distressed Duenna's tale of her misfortunes + +Following the melancholy musicians there filed into the garden as many as +twelve duennas, in two lines, all dressed in ample mourning robes +apparently of milled serge, with hoods of fine white gauze so long that +they allowed only the border of the robe to be seen. Behind them came the +Countess Trifaldi, the squire Trifaldin of the White Beard leading her by +the hand, clad in the finest unnapped black baize, such that, had it a +nap, every tuft would have shown as big as a Martos chickpea; the tail, +or skirt, or whatever it might be called, ended in three points which +were borne up by the hands of three pages, likewise dressed in mourning, +forming an elegant geometrical figure with the three acute angles made by +the three points, from which all who saw the peaked skirt concluded that +it must be because of it the countess was called Trifaldi, as though it +were Countess of the Three Skirts; and Benengeli says it was so, and that +by her right name she was called the Countess Lobuna, because wolves bred +in great numbers in her country; and if, instead of wolves, they had been +foxes, she would have been called the Countess Zorruna, as it was the +custom in those parts for lords to take distinctive titles from the thing +or things most abundant in their dominions; this countess, however, in +honour of the new fashion of her skirt, dropped Lobuna and took up +Trifaldi. + +The twelve duennas and the lady came on at procession pace, their faces +being covered with black veils, not transparent ones like Trifaldin's, +but so close that they allowed nothing to be seen through them. As soon +as the band of duennas was fully in sight, the duke, the duchess, and Don +Quixote stood up, as well as all who were watching the slow-moving +procession. The twelve duennas halted and formed a lane, along which the +Distressed One advanced, Trifaldin still holding her hand. On seeing this +the duke, the duchess, and Don Quixote went some twelve paces forward to +meet her. She then, kneeling on the ground, said in a voice hoarse and +rough, rather than fine and delicate, "May it please your highnesses not +to offer such courtesies to this your servant, I should say to this your +handmaid, for I am in such distress that I shall never be able to make a +proper return, because my strange and unparalleled misfortune has carried +off my wits, and I know not whither; but it must be a long way off, for +the more I look for them the less I find them." + +"He would be wanting in wits, senora countess," said the duke, "who did +not perceive your worth by your person, for at a glance it may be seen it +deserves all the cream of courtesy and flower of polite usage;" and +raising her up by the hand he led her to a seat beside the duchess, who +likewise received her with great urbanity. Don Quixote remained silent, +while Sancho was dying to see the features of Trifaldi and one or two of +her many duennas; but there was no possibility of it until they +themselves displayed them of their own accord and free will. + +All kept still, waiting to see who would break silence, which the +Distressed Duenna did in these words: "I am confident, most mighty lord, +most fair lady, and most discreet company, that my most miserable misery +will be accorded a reception no less dispassionate than generous and +condolent in your most valiant bosoms, for it is one that is enough to +melt marble, soften diamonds, and mollify the steel of the most hardened +hearts in the world; but ere it is proclaimed to your hearing, not to say +your ears, I would fain be enlightened whether there be present in this +society, circle, or company, that knight immaculatissimus, Don Quixote de +la Manchissima, and his squirissimus Panza." + +"The Panza is here," said Sancho, before anyone could reply, "and Don +Quixotissimus too; and so, most distressedest Duenissima, you may say +what you willissimus, for we are all readissimus to do you any +servissimus." + +On this Don Quixote rose, and addressing the Distressed Duenna, said, "If +your sorrows, afflicted lady, can indulge in any hope of relief from the +valour or might of any knight-errant, here are mine, which, feeble and +limited though they be, shall be entirely devoted to your service. I am +Don Quixote of La Mancha, whose calling it is to give aid to the needy of +all sorts; and that being so, it is not necessary for you, senora, to +make any appeal to benevolence, or deal in preambles, only to tell your +woes plainly and straightforwardly: for you have hearers that will know +how, if not to remedy them, to sympathise with them." + +On hearing this, the Distressed Duenna made as though she would throw +herself at Don Quixote's feet, and actually did fall before them and +said, as she strove to embrace them, "Before these feet and legs I cast +myself, O unconquered knight, as before, what they are, the foundations +and pillars of knight-errantry; these feet I desire to kiss, for upon +their steps hangs and depends the sole remedy for my misfortune, O +valorous errant, whose veritable achievements leave behind and eclipse +the fabulous ones of the Amadises, Esplandians, and Belianises!" Then +turning from Don Quixote to Sancho Panza, and grasping his hands, she +said, "O thou, most loyal squire that ever served knight-errant in this +present age or ages past, whose goodness is more extensive than the beard +of Trifaldin my companion here of present, well mayest thou boast thyself +that, in serving the great Don Quixote, thou art serving, summed up in +one, the whole host of knights that have ever borne arms in the world. I +conjure thee, by what thou owest to thy most loyal goodness, that thou +wilt become my kind intercessor with thy master, that he speedily give +aid to this most humble and most unfortunate countess." + +To this Sancho made answer, "As to my goodness, senora, being as long and +as great as your squire's beard, it matters very little to me; may I have +my soul well bearded and moustached when it comes to quit this life, +that's the point; about beards here below I care little or nothing; but +without all these blandishments and prayers, I will beg my master (for I +know he loves me, and, besides, he has need of me just now for a certain +business) to help and aid your worship as far as he can; unpack your woes +and lay them before us, and leave us to deal with them, for we'll be all +of one mind." + +The duke and duchess, as it was they who had made the experiment of this +adventure, were ready to burst with laughter at all this, and between +themselves they commended the clever acting of the Trifaldi, who, +returning to her seat, said, "Queen Dona Maguncia reigned over the famous +kingdom of Kandy, which lies between the great Trapobana and the Southern +Sea, two leagues beyond Cape Comorin. She was the widow of King +Archipiela, her lord and husband, and of their marriage they had issue +the Princess Antonomasia, heiress of the kingdom; which Princess +Antonomasia was reared and brought up under my care and direction, I +being the oldest and highest in rank of her mother's duennas. Time +passed, and the young Antonomasia reached the age of fourteen, and such a +perfection of beauty, that nature could not raise it higher. Then, it +must not be supposed her intelligence was childish; she was as +intelligent as she was fair, and she was fairer than all the world; and +is so still, unless the envious fates and hard-hearted sisters three have +cut for her the thread of life. But that they have not, for Heaven will +not suffer so great a wrong to Earth, as it would be to pluck unripe the +grapes of the fairest vineyard on its surface. Of this beauty, to which +my poor feeble tongue has failed to do justice, countless princes, not +only of that country, but of others, were enamoured, and among them a +private gentleman, who was at the court, dared to raise his thoughts to +the heaven of so great beauty, trusting to his youth, his gallant +bearing, his numerous accomplishments and graces, and his quickness and +readiness of wit; for I may tell your highnesses, if I am not wearying +you, that he played the guitar so as to make it speak, and he was, +besides, a poet and a great dancer, and he could make birdcages so well, +that by making them alone he might have gained a livelihood, had he found +himself reduced to utter poverty; and gifts and graces of this kind are +enough to bring down a mountain, not to say a tender young girl. But all +his gallantry, wit, and gaiety, all his graces and accomplishments, would +have been of little or no avail towards gaining the fortress of my pupil, +had not the impudent thief taken the precaution of gaining me over first. +First, the villain and heartless vagabond sought to win my good-will and +purchase my compliance, so as to get me, like a treacherous warder, to +deliver up to him the keys of the fortress I had in charge. In a word, he +gained an influence over my mind, and overcame my resolutions with I know +not what trinkets and jewels he gave me; but it was some verses I heard +him singing one night from a grating that opened on the street where he +lived, that, more than anything else, made me give way and led to my +fall; and if I remember rightly they ran thus: + +poem{ + + From that sweet enemy of mine + My bleeding heart hath had its wound; + And to increase the pain I'm bound + To suffer and to make no sign. + +}poem + +The lines seemed pearls to me and his voice sweet as syrup; and +afterwards, I may say ever since then, looking at the misfortune into +which I have fallen, I have thought that poets, as Plato advised, ought +to be banished from all well-ordered States; at least the amatory ones, +for they write verses, not like those of 'The Marquis of Mantua,' that +delight and draw tears from the women and children, but sharp-pointed +conceits that pierce the heart like soft thorns, and like the lightning +strike it, leaving the raiment uninjured. Another time he sang: + +poem{ + + Come Death, so subtly veiled that I + Thy coming know not, how or when, + Lest it should give me life again + To find how sweet it is to die. + +}poem + +--and other verses and burdens of the same sort, such as enchant when +sung and fascinate when written. And then, when they condescend to +compose a sort of verse that was at that time in vogue in Kandy, which +they call seguidillas! Then it is that hearts leap and laughter breaks +forth, and the body grows restless and all the senses turn quicksilver. +And so I say, sirs, that these troubadours richly deserve to be banished +to the isles of the lizards. Though it is not they that are in fault, but +the simpletons that extol them, and the fools that believe in them; and +had I been the faithful duenna I should have been, his stale conceits +would have never moved me, nor should I have been taken in by such +phrases as 'in death I live,' 'in ice I burn,' 'in flames I shiver,' +'hopeless I hope,' 'I go and stay,' and paradoxes of that sort which +their writings are full of. And then when they promise the Phoenix of +Arabia, the crown of Ariadne, the horses of the Sun, the pearls of the +South, the gold of Tibar, and the balsam of Panchaia! Then it is they +give a loose to their pens, for it costs them little to make promises +they have no intention or power of fulfilling. But where am I wandering +to? Woe is me, unfortunate being! What madness or folly leads me to speak +of the faults of others, when there is so much to be said about my own? +Again, woe is me, hapless that I am! it was not verses that conquered me, +but my own simplicity; it was not music made me yield, but my own +imprudence; my own great ignorance and little caution opened the way and +cleared the path for Don Clavijo's advances, for that was the name of the +gentleman I have referred to; and so, with my help as go-between, he +found his way many a time into the chamber of the deceived Antonomasia +(deceived not by him but by me) under the title of a lawful husband; for, +sinner though I was, would not have allowed him to approach the edge of +her shoe-sole without being her husband. No, no, not that; marriage must +come first in any business of this sort that I take in hand. But there +was one hitch in this case, which was that of inequality of rank, Don +Clavijo being a private gentleman, and the Princess Antonomasia, as I +said, heiress to the kingdom. The entanglement remained for some time a +secret, kept hidden by my cunning precautions, until I perceived that a +certain expansion of waist in Antonomasia must before long disclose it, +the dread of which made us all there take counsel together, and it was +agreed that before the mischief came to light, Don Clavijo should demand +Antonomasia as his wife before the Vicar, in virtue of an agreement to +marry him made by the princess, and drafted by my wit in such binding +terms that the might of Samson could not have broken it. The necessary +steps were taken; the Vicar saw the agreement, and took the lady's +confession; she confessed everything in full, and he ordered her into the +custody of a very worthy alguacil of the court." + +"Are there alguacils of the court in Kandy, too," said Sancho at this, +"and poets, and seguidillas? I swear I think the world is the same all +over! But make haste, Senora Trifaldi; for it is late, and I am dying to +know the end of this long story." + +"I will," replied the countess. + +Chapter XXXIX. - +In which the Trifaldi continues her marvellous and memorable story + +By every word that Sancho uttered, the duchess was as much delighted as +Don Quixote was driven to desperation. He bade him hold his tongue, and +the Distressed One went on to say: "At length, after much questioning and +answering, as the princess held to her story, without changing or varying +her previous declaration, the Vicar gave his decision in favour of Don +Clavijo, and she was delivered over to him as his lawful wife; which the +Queen Dona Maguncia, the Princess Antonomasia's mother, so took to heart, +that within the space of three days we buried her." + +"She died, no doubt," said Sancho. + +"Of course," said Trifaldin; "they don't bury living people in Kandy, +only the dead." + +"Senor Squire," said Sancho, "a man in a swoon has been known to be +buried before now, in the belief that he was dead; and it struck me that +Queen Maguncia ought to have swooned rather than died; because with life +a great many things come right, and the princess's folly was not so great +that she need feel it so keenly. If the lady had married some page of +hers, or some other servant of the house, as many another has done, so I +have heard say, then the mischief would have been past curing. But to +marry such an elegant accomplished gentleman as has been just now +described to us--indeed, indeed, though it was a folly, it was not such a +great one as you think; for according to the rules of my master here--and +he won't allow me to lie--as of men of letters bishops are made, so of +gentlemen knights, specially if they be errant, kings and emperors may be +made." + +"Thou art right, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "for with a knight-errant, if +he has but two fingers' breadth of good fortune, it is on the cards to +become the mightiest lord on earth. But let senora the Distressed One +proceed; for I suspect she has got yet to tell us the bitter part of this +so far sweet story." + +"The bitter is indeed to come," said the countess; "and such bitter that +colocynth is sweet and oleander toothsome in comparison. The queen, then, +being dead, and not in a swoon, we buried her; and hardly had we covered +her with earth, hardly had we said our last farewells, when, quis talia +fando temperet a lachrymis? over the queen's grave there appeared, +mounted upon a wooden horse, the giant Malambruno, Maguncia's first +cousin, who besides being cruel is an enchanter; and he, to revenge the +death of his cousin, punish the audacity of Don Clavijo, and in wrath at +the contumacy of Antonomasia, left them both enchanted by his art on the +grave itself; she being changed into an ape of brass, and he into a +horrible crocodile of some unknown metal; while between the two there +stands a pillar, also of metal, with certain characters in the Syriac +language inscribed upon it, which, being translated into Kandian, and now +into Castilian, contain the following sentence: 'These two rash lovers +shall not recover their former shape until the valiant Manchegan comes to +do battle with me in single combat; for the Fates reserve this unexampled +adventure for his mighty valour alone.' This done, he drew from its +sheath a huge broad scimitar, and seizing me by the hair he made as +though he meant to cut my throat and shear my head clean off. I was +terror-stricken, my voice stuck in my throat, and I was in the deepest +distress; nevertheless I summoned up my strength as well as I could, and +in a trembling and piteous voice I addressed such words to him as induced +him to stay the infliction of a punishment so severe. He then caused all +the duennas of the palace, those that are here present, to be brought +before him; and after having dwelt upon the enormity of our offence, and +denounced duennas, their characters, their evil ways and worse intrigues, +laying to the charge of all what I alone was guilty of, he said he would +not visit us with capital punishment, but with others of a slow nature +which would be in effect civil death for ever; and the very instant he +ceased speaking we all felt the pores of our faces opening, and pricking +us, as if with the points of needles. We at once put our hands up to our +faces and found ourselves in the state you now see." + +Here the Distressed One and the other duennas raised the veils with which +they were covered, and disclosed countenances all bristling with beards, +some red, some black, some white, and some grizzled, at which spectacle +the duke and duchess made a show of being filled with wonder. Don Quixote +and Sancho were overwhelmed with amazement, and the bystanders lost in +astonishment, while the Trifaldi went on to say: "Thus did that +malevolent villain Malambruno punish us, covering the tenderness and +softness of our faces with these rough bristles! Would to heaven that he +had swept off our heads with his enormous scimitar instead of obscuring +the light of our countenances with these wool-combings that cover us! For +if we look into the matter, sirs (and what I am now going to say I would +say with eyes flowing like fountains, only that the thought of our +misfortune and the oceans they have already wept, keep them as dry as +barley spears, and so I say it without tears), where, I ask, can a duenna +with a beard to to? What father or mother will feel pity for her? Who +will help her? For, if even when she has a smooth skin, and a face +tortured by a thousand kinds of washes and cosmetics, she can hardly get +anybody to love her, what will she do when she shows a countenace turned +into a thicket? Oh duennas, companions mine! it was an unlucky moment +when we were born and an ill-starred hour when our fathers begot us!" And +as she said this she showed signs of being about to faint. + +Chapter XL. - +Of matters relating and belonging to this adventure and to this memorable +history + +Verily and truly all those who find pleasure in histories like this ought +show their gratitude to Cide Hamete, its original author, for the +scrupulous care he has taken to set before us all its minute particulars, +not leaving anything, however trifling it may be, that he does not make +clear and plain. He portrays the thoughts, he reveals the fancies, he +answers implied questions, clears up doubts, sets objections at rest, +and, in a word, makes plain the smallest points the most inquisitive can +desire to know. O renowned author! O happy Don Quixote! O famous famous +droll Sancho! All and each, may ye live countless ages for the delight +and amusement of the dwellers on earth! + +The history goes on to say that when Sancho saw the Distressed One faint +he exclaimed: "I swear by the faith of an honest man and the shades of +all my ancestors the Panzas, that never I did see or hear of, nor has my +master related or conceived in his mind, such an adventure as this. A +thousand devils--not to curse thee--take thee, Malambruno, for an +enchanter and a giant! Couldst thou find no other sort of punishment for +these sinners but bearding them? Would it not have been better--it would +have been better for them--to have taken off half their noses from the +middle upwards, even though they'd have snuffled when they spoke, than to +have put beards on them? I'll bet they have not the means of paying +anybody to shave them." + +"That is the truth, senor," said one of the twelve; "we have not the +money to get ourselves shaved, and so we have, some of us, taken to using +sticking-plasters by way of an economical remedy, for by applying them to +our faces and plucking them off with a jerk we are left as bare and +smooth as the bottom of a stone mortar. There are, to be sure, women in +Kandy that go about from house to house to remove down, and trim +eyebrows, and make cosmetics for the use of the women, but we, the +duennas of my lady, would never let them in, for most of them have a +flavour of agents that have ceased to be principals; and if we are not +relieved by Senor Don Quixote we shall be carried to our graves with +beards." + +"I will pluck out my own in the land of the Moors," said Don Quixote, "if +I don't cure yours." + +At this instant the Trifaldi recovered from her swoon and said, "The +chink of that promise, valiant knight, reached my ears in the midst of my +swoon, and has been the means of reviving me and bringing back my senses; +and so once more I implore you, illustrious errant, indomitable sir, to +let your gracious promises be turned into deeds." + +"There shall be no delay on my part," said Don Quixote. "Bethink you, +senora, of what I must do, for my heart is most eager to serve you." + +"The fact is," replied the Distressed One, "it is five thousand leagues, +a couple more or less, from this to the kingdom of Kandy, if you go by +land; but if you go through the air and in a straight line, it is three +thousand two hundred and twenty-seven. You must know, too, that +Malambruno told me that, whenever fate provided the knight our deliverer, +he himself would send him a steed far better and with less tricks than a +post-horse; for he will be that same wooden horse on which the valiant +Pierres carried off the fair Magalona; which said horse is guided by a +peg he has in his forehead that serves for a bridle, and flies through +the air with such rapidity that you would fancy the very devils were +carrying him. This horse, according to ancient tradition, was made by +Merlin. He lent him to Pierres, who was a friend of his, and who made +long journeys with him, and, as has been said, carried off the fair +Magalona, bearing her through the air on its haunches and making all who +beheld them from the earth gape with astonishment; and he never lent him +save to those whom he loved or those who paid him well; and since the +great Pierres we know of no one having mounted him until now. From him +Malambruno stole him by his magic art, and he has him now in his +possession, and makes use of him in his journeys which he constantly +makes through different parts of the world; he is here to-day, to-morrow +in France, and the next day in Potosi; and the best of it is the said +horse neither eats nor sleeps nor wears out shoes, and goes at an ambling +pace through the air without wings, so that he whom he has mounted upon +him can carry a cup full of water in his hand without spilling a drop, so +smoothly and easily does he go, for which reason the fair Magalona +enjoyed riding him greatly." + +"For going smoothly and easily," said Sancho at this, "give me my Dapple, +though he can't go through the air; but on the ground I'll back him +against all the amblers in the world." + +They all laughed, and the Distressed One continued: "And this same horse, +if so be that Malambruno is disposed to put an end to our sufferings, +will be here before us ere the night shall have advanced half an hour; +for he announced to me that the sign he would give me whereby I might +know that I had found the knight I was in quest of, would be to send me +the horse wherever he might be, speedily and promptly." + +"And how many is there room for on this horse?" asked Sancho. + +"Two," said the Distressed One, "one in the saddle, and the other on the +croup; and generally these two are knight and squire, when there is no +damsel that's being carried off." + +"I'd like to know, Senora Distressed One," said Sancho, "what is the name +of this horse?" + +"His name," said the Distressed One, "is not the same as Bellerophon's +horse that was called Pegasus, or Alexander the Great's, called +Bucephalus, or Orlando Furioso's, the name of which was Brigliador, nor +yet Bayard, the horse of Reinaldos of Montalvan, nor Frontino like +Ruggiero's, nor Bootes or Peritoa, as they say the horses of the sun were +called, nor is he called Orelia, like the horse on which the unfortunate +Rodrigo, the last king of the Goths, rode to the battle where he lost his +life and his kingdom." + +"I'll bet," said Sancho, "that as they have given him none of these +famous names of well-known horses, no more have they given him the name +of my master's Rocinante, which for being apt surpasses all that have +been mentioned." + +"That is true," said the bearded countess, "still it fits him very well, +for he is called Clavileno the Swift, which name is in accordance with +his being made of wood, with the peg he has in his forehead, and with the +swift pace at which he travels; and so, as far as name goes, he may +compare with the famous Rocinante." + +"I have nothing to say against his name," said Sancho; "but with what +sort of bridle or halter is he managed?" + +"I have said already," said the Trifaldi, "that it is with a peg, by +turning which to one side or the other the knight who rides him makes him +go as he pleases, either through the upper air, or skimming and almost +sweeping the earth, or else in that middle course that is sought and +followed in all well-regulated proceedings." + +"I'd like to see him," said Sancho; "but to fancy I'm going to mount him, +either in the saddle or on the croup, is to ask pears of the elm tree. A +good joke indeed! I can hardly keep my seat upon Dapple, and on a +pack-saddle softer than silk itself, and here they'd have me hold on upon +haunches of plank without pad or cushion of any sort! Gad, I have no +notion of bruising myself to get rid of anyone's beard; let each one +shave himself as best he can; I'm not going to accompany my master on any +such long journey; besides, I can't give any help to the shaving of these +beards as I can to the disenchantment of my lady Dulcinea." + +"Yes, you can, my friend," replied the Trifaldi; "and so much, that +without you, so I understand, we shall be able to do nothing." + +"In the king's name!" exclaimed Sancho, "what have squires got to do with +the adventures of their masters? Are they to have the fame of such as +they go through, and we the labour? Body o' me! if the historians would +only say, 'Such and such a knight finished such and such an adventure, +but with the help of so and so, his squire, without which it would have +been impossible for him to accomplish it;' but they write curtly, "Don +Paralipomenon of the Three Stars accomplished the adventure of the six +monsters;' without mentioning such a person as his squire, who was there +all the time, just as if there was no such being. Once more, sirs, I say +my master may go alone, and much good may it do him; and I'll stay here +in the company of my lady the duchess; and maybe when he comes back, he +will find the lady Dulcinea's affair ever so much advanced; for I mean in +leisure hours, and at idle moments, to give myself a spell of whipping +without so much as a hair to cover me." + +"For all that you must go if it be necessary, my good Sancho," said the +duchess, "for they are worthy folk who ask you; and the faces of these +ladies must not remain overgrown in this way because of your idle fears; +that would be a hard case indeed." + +"In the king's name, once more!" said Sancho; "If this charitable work +were to be done for the sake of damsels in confinement or charity-girls, +a man might expose himself to some hardships; but to bear it for the sake +of stripping beards off duennas! Devil take it! I'd sooner see them all +bearded, from the highest to the lowest, and from the most prudish to the +most affected." + +"You are very hard on duennas, Sancho my friend," said the duchess; "you +incline very much to the opinion of the Toledo apothecary. But indeed you +are wrong; there are duennas in my house that may serve as patterns of +duennas; and here is my Dona Rodriguez, who will not allow me to say +otherwise." + +"Your excellence may say it if you like," said the Rodriguez; "for God +knows the truth of everything; and whether we duennas are good or bad, +bearded or smooth, we are our mothers' daughters like other women; and as +God sent us into the world, he knows why he did, and on his mercy I rely, +and not on anybody's beard." + +"Well, Senora Rodriguez, Senora Trifaldi, and present company," said Don +Quixote, "I trust in Heaven that it will look with kindly eyes upon your +troubles, for Sancho will do as I bid him. Only let Clavileno come and +let me find myself face to face with Malambruno, and I am certain no +razor will shave you more easily than my sword shall shave Malambruno's +head off his shoulders; for 'God bears with the wicked, but not for +ever." + +"Ah!" exclaimed the Distressed One at this, "may all the stars of the +celestial regions look down upon your greatness with benign eyes, valiant +knight, and shed every prosperity and valour upon your heart, that it may +be the shield and safeguard of the abused and downtrodden race of +duennas, detested by apothecaries, sneered at by squires, and made game +of by pages. Ill betide the jade that in the flower of her youth would +not sooner become a nun than a duenna! Unfortunate beings that we are, we +duennas! Though we may be descended in the direct male line from Hector +of Troy himself, our mistresses never fail to address us as 'you' if they +think it makes queens of them. O giant Malambruno, though thou art an +enchanter, thou art true to thy promises. Send us now the peerless +Clavileno, that our misfortune may be brought to an end; for if the hot +weather sets in and these beards of ours are still there, alas for our +lot!" + +The Trifaldi said this in such a pathetic way that she drew tears from +the eyes of all and even Sancho's filled up; and he resolved in his heart +to accompany his master to the uttermost ends of the earth, if so be the +removal of the wool from those venerable countenances depended upon it. + +Chapter XLI. - +Of the arrival of Clavileno and the end of this protracted adventure + +And now night came, and with it the appointed time for the arrival of the +famous horse Clavileno, the non-appearance of which was already beginning +to make Don Quixote uneasy, for it struck him that, as Malambruno was so +long about sending it, either he himself was not the knight for whom the +adventure was reserved, or else Malambruno did not dare to meet him in +single combat. But lo! suddenly there came into the garden four wild-men +all clad in green ivy bearing on their shoulders a great wooden horse. +They placed it on its feet on the ground, and one of the wild-men said, +"Let the knight who has heart for it mount this machine." + +Here Sancho exclaimed, "I don't mount, for neither have I the heart nor +am I a knight." + +"And let the squire, if he has one," continued the wild-man, "take his +seat on the croup, and let him trust the valiant Malambruno; for by no +sword save his, nor by the malice of any other, shall he be assailed. It +is but to turn this peg the horse has in his neck, and he will bear them +through the air to where Malambruno awaits them; but lest the vast +elevation of their course should make them giddy, their eyes must be +covered until the horse neighs, which will be the sign of their having +completed their journey." + +With these words, leaving Clavileno behind them, they retired with easy +dignity the way they came. As soon as the Distressed One saw the horse, +almost in tears she exclaimed to Don Quixote, "Valiant knight, the +promise of Malambruno has proved trustworthy; the horse has come, our +beards are growing, and by every hair in them all of us implore thee to +shave and shear us, as it is only mounting him with thy squire and making +a happy beginning with your new journey." + +"That I will, Senora Countess Trifaldi," said Don Quixote, "most gladly +and with right goodwill, without stopping to take a cushion or put on my +spurs, so as not to lose time, such is my desire to see you and all these +duennas shaved clean." + +"That I won't," said Sancho, "with good-will or bad-will, or any way at +all; and if this shaving can't be done without my mounting on the croup, +my master had better look out for another squire to go with him, and +these ladies for some other way of making their faces smooth; I'm no +witch to have a taste for travelling through the air. What would my +islanders say when they heard their governor was going, strolling about +on the winds? And another thing, as it is three thousand and odd leagues +from this to Kandy, if the horse tires, or the giant takes huff, we'll be +half a dozen years getting back, and there won't be isle or island in the +world that will know me: and so, as it is a common saying 'in delay +there's danger,' and 'when they offer thee a heifer run with a halter,' +these ladies' beards must excuse me; 'Saint Peter is very well in Rome;' +I mean I am very well in this house where so much is made of me, and I +hope for such a good thing from the master as to see myself a governor." + +"Friend Sancho," said the duke at this, "the island that I have promised +you is not a moving one, or one that will run away; it has roots so +deeply buried in the bowels of the earth that it will be no easy matter +to pluck it up or shift it from where it is; you know as well as I do +that there is no sort of office of any importance that is not obtained by +a bribe of some kind, great or small; well then, that which I look to +receive for this government is that you go with your master Don Quixote, +and bring this memorable adventure to a conclusion; and whether you +return on Clavileno as quickly as his speed seems to promise, or adverse +fortune brings you back on foot travelling as a pilgrim from hostel to +hostel and from inn to inn, you will always find your island on your +return where you left it, and your islanders with the same eagerness they +have always had to receive you as their governor, and my good-will will +remain the same; doubt not the truth of this, Senor Sancho, for that +would be grievously wronging my disposition to serve you." + +"Say no more, senor," said Sancho; "I am a poor squire and not equal to +carrying so much courtesy; let my master mount; bandage my eyes and +commit me to God's care, and tell me if I may commend myself to our Lord +or call upon the angels to protect me when we go towering up there." + +To this the Trifaldi made answer, "Sancho, you may freely commend +yourself to God or whom you will; for Malambruno though an enchanter is a +Christian, and works his enchantments with great circumspection, taking +very good care not to fall out with anyone." + +"Well then," said Sancho, "God and the most holy Trinity of Gaeta give me +help!" + +"Since the memorable adventure of the fulling mills," said Don Quixote, +"I have never seen Sancho in such a fright as now; were I as +superstitious as others his abject fear would cause me some little +trepidation of spirit. But come here, Sancho, for with the leave of these +gentles I would say a word or two to thee in private;" and drawing Sancho +aside among the trees of the garden and seizing both his hands he said, +"Thou seest, brother Sancho, the long journey we have before us, and God +knows when we shall return, or what leisure or opportunities this +business will allow us; I wish thee therefore to retire now to thy +chamber, as though thou wert going to fetch something required for the +road, and in a trice give thyself if it be only five hundred lashes on +account of the three thousand three hundred to which thou art bound; it +will be all to the good, and to make a beginning with a thing is to have +it half finished." + +"By God," said Sancho, "but your worship must be out of your senses! This +is like the common saying, 'You see me with child, and you want me a +virgin.' Just as I'm about to go sitting on a bare board, your worship +would have me score my backside! Indeed, your worship is not reasonable. +Let us be off to shave these duennas; and on our return I promise on my +word to make such haste to wipe off all that's due as will satisfy your +worship; I can't say more." + +"Well, I will comfort myself with that promise, my good Sancho," replied +Don Quixote, "and I believe thou wilt keep it; for indeed though stupid +thou art veracious." + +"I'm not voracious," said Sancho, "only peckish; but even if I was a +little, still I'd keep my word." + +With this they went back to mount Clavileno, and as they were about to do +so Don Quixote said, "Cover thine eyes, Sancho, and mount; for one who +sends for us from lands so far distant cannot mean to deceive us for the +sake of the paltry glory to be derived from deceiving persons who trust +in him; though all should turn out the contrary of what I hope, no malice +will be able to dim the glory of having undertaken this exploit." + +"Let us be off, senor," said Sancho, "for I have taken the beards and +tears of these ladies deeply to heart, and I shan't eat a bit to relish +it until I have seen them restored to their former smoothness. Mount, +your worship, and blindfold yourself, for if I am to go on the croup, it +is plain the rider in the saddle must mount first." + +"That is true," said Don Quixote, and, taking a handkerchief out of his +pocket, he begged the Distressed One to bandage his eyes very carefully; +but after having them bandaged he uncovered them again, saying, "If my +memory does not deceive me, I have read in Virgil of the Palladium of +Troy, a wooden horse the Greeks offered to the goddess Pallas, which was +big with armed knights, who were afterwards the destruction of Troy; so +it would be as well to see, first of all, what Clavileno has in his +stomach." + +"There is no occasion," said the Distressed One; "I will be bail for him, +and I know that Malambruno has nothing tricky or treacherous about him; +you may mount without any fear, Senor Don Quixote; on my head be it if +any harm befalls you." + +Don Quixote thought that to say anything further with regard to his +safety would be putting his courage in an unfavourable light; and so, +without more words, he mounted Clavileno, and tried the peg, which turned +easily; and as he had no stirrups and his legs hung down, he looked like +nothing so much as a figure in some Roman triumph painted or embroidered +on a Flemish tapestry. + +Much against the grain, and very slowly, Sancho proceeded to mount, and, +after settling himself as well as he could on the croup, found it rather +hard, and not at all soft, and asked the duke if it would be possible to +oblige him with a pad of some kind, or a cushion; even if it were off the +couch of his lady the duchess, or the bed of one of the pages; as the +haunches of that horse were more like marble than wood. On this the +Trifaldi observed that Clavileno would not bear any kind of harness or +trappings, and that his best plan would be to sit sideways like a woman, +as in that way he would not feel the hardness so much. + +Sancho did so, and, bidding them farewell, allowed his eyes to be +bandaged, but immediately afterwards uncovered them again, and looking +tenderly and tearfully on those in the garden, bade them help him in his +present strait with plenty of Paternosters and Ave Marias, that God might +provide some one to say as many for them, whenever they found themselves +in a similar emergency. + +At this Don Quixote exclaimed, "Art thou on the gallows, thief, or at thy +last moment, to use pitiful entreaties of that sort? Cowardly, spiritless +creature, art thou not in the very place the fair Magalona occupied, and +from which she descended, not into the grave, but to become Queen of +France; unless the histories lie? And I who am here beside thee, may I +not put myself on a par with the valiant Pierres, who pressed this very +spot that I now press? Cover thine eyes, cover thine eyes, abject animal, +and let not thy fear escape thy lips, at least in my presence." + +"Blindfold me," said Sancho; "as you won't let me commend myself or be +commended to God, is it any wonder if I am afraid there is a region of +devils about here that will carry us off to Peralvillo?" + +They were then blindfolded, and Don Quixote, finding himself settled to +his satisfaction, felt for the peg, and the instant he placed his fingers +on it, all the duennas and all who stood by lifted up their voices +exclaiming, "God guide thee, valiant knight! God be with thee, intrepid +squire! Now, now ye go cleaving the air more swiftly than an arrow! Now +ye begin to amaze and astonish all who are gazing at you from the earth! +Take care not to wobble about, valiant Sancho! Mind thou fall not, for +thy fall will be worse than that rash youth's who tried to steer the +chariot of his father the Sun!" + +As Sancho heard the voices, clinging tightly to his master and winding +his arms round him, he said, "Senor, how do they make out we are going up +so high, if their voices reach us here and they seem to be speaking quite +close to us?" + +"Don't mind that, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for as affairs of this +sort, and flights like this are out of the common course of things, you +can see and hear as much as you like a thousand leagues off; but don't +squeeze me so tight or thou wilt upset me; and really I know not what +thou hast to be uneasy or frightened at, for I can safely swear I never +mounted a smoother-going steed all the days of my life; one would fancy +we never stirred from one place. Banish fear, my friend, for indeed +everything is going as it ought, and we have the wind astern." + +"That's true," said Sancho, "for such a strong wind comes against me on +this side, that it seems as if people were blowing on me with a thousand +pair of bellows;" which was the case; they were puffing at him with a +great pair of bellows; for the whole adventure was so well planned by the +duke, the duchess, and their majordomo, that nothing was omitted to make +it perfectly successful. + +Don Quixote now, feeling the blast, said, "Beyond a doubt, Sancho, we +must have already reached the second region of the air, where the hail +and snow are generated; the thunder, the lightning, and the thunderbolts +are engendered in the third region, and if we go on ascending at this +rate, we shall shortly plunge into the region of fire, and I know not how +to regulate this peg, so as not to mount up where we shall be burned." + +And now they began to warm their faces, from a distance, with tow that +could be easily set on fire and extinguished again, fixed on the end of a +cane. On feeling the heat Sancho said, "May I die if we are not already +in that fire place, or very near it, for a good part of my beard has been +singed, and I have a mind, senor, to uncover and see whereabouts we are." + +"Do nothing of the kind," said Don Quixote; "remember the true story of +the licentiate Torralva that the devils carried flying through the air +riding on a stick with his eyes shut; who in twelve hours reached Rome +and dismounted at Torre di Nona, which is a street of the city, and saw +the whole sack and storming and the death of Bourbon, and was back in +Madrid the next morning, where he gave an account of all he had seen; and +he said moreover that as he was going through the air, the devil bade him +open his eyes, and he did so, and saw himself so near the body of the +moon, so it seemed to him, that he could have laid hold of it with his +hand, and that he did not dare to look at the earth lest he should be +seized with giddiness. So that, Sancho, it will not do for us to uncover +ourselves, for he who has us in charge will be responsible for us; and +perhaps we are gaining an altitude and mounting up to enable us to +descend at one swoop on the kingdom of Kandy, as the saker or falcon does +on the heron, so as to seize it however high it may soar; and though it +seems to us not half an hour since we left the garden, believe me we must +have travelled a great distance." + +"I don't know how that may be," said Sancho; "all I know is that if the +Senora Magallanes or Magalona was satisfied with this croup, she could +not have been very tender of flesh." + +The duke, the duchess, and all in the garden were listening to the +conversation of the two heroes, and were beyond measure amused by it; and +now, desirous of putting a finishing touch to this rare and +well-contrived adventure, they applied a light to Clavileno's tail with +some tow, and the horse, being full of squibs and crackers, immediately +blew up with a prodigious noise, and brought Don Quixote and Sancho Panza +to the ground half singed. By this time the bearded band of duennas, the +Trifaldi and all, had vanished from the garden, and those that remained +lay stretched on the ground as if in a swoon. Don Quixote and Sancho got +up rather shaken, and, looking about them, were filled with amazement at +finding themselves in the same garden from which they had started, and +seeing such a number of people stretched on the ground; and their +astonishment was increased when at one side of the garden they perceived +a tall lance planted in the ground, and hanging from it by two cords of +green silk a smooth white parchment on which there was the following +inscription in large gold letters: "The illustrious knight Don Quixote of +La Mancha has, by merely attempting it, finished and concluded the +adventure of the Countess Trifaldi, otherwise called the Distressed +Duenna; Malambruno is now satisfied on every point, the chins of the +duennas are now smooth and clean, and King Don Clavijo and Queen +Antonomasia in their original form; and when the squirely flagellation +shall have been completed, the white dove shall find herself delivered +from the pestiferous gerfalcons that persecute her, and in the arms of +her beloved mate; for such is the decree of the sage Merlin, +arch-enchanter of enchanters." + +As soon as Don Quixote had read the inscription on the parchment he +perceived clearly that it referred to the disenchantment of Dulcinea, and +returning hearty thanks to heaven that he had with so little danger +achieved so grand an exploit as to restore to their former complexion the +countenances of those venerable duennas, he advanced towards the duke and +duchess, who had not yet come to themselves, and taking the duke by the +hand he said, "Be of good cheer, worthy sir, be of good cheer; it's +nothing at all; the adventure is now over and without any harm done, as +the inscription fixed on this post shows plainly." + +The duke came to himself slowly and like one recovering consciousness +after a heavy sleep, and the duchess and all who had fallen prostrate +about the garden did the same, with such demonstrations of wonder and +amazement that they would have almost persuaded one that what they +pretended so adroitly in jest had happened to them in reality. The duke +read the placard with half-shut eyes, and then ran to embrace Don Quixote +with-open arms, declaring him to be the best knight that had ever been +seen in any age. Sancho kept looking about for the Distressed One, to see +what her face was like without the beard, and if she was as fair as her +elegant person promised; but they told him that, the instant Clavileno +descended flaming through the air and came to the ground, the whole band +of duennas with the Trifaldi vanished, and that they were already shaved +and without a stump left. + +The duchess asked Sancho how he had fared on that long journey, to which +Sancho replied, "I felt, senora, that we were flying through the region +of fire, as my master told me, and I wanted to uncover my eyes for a bit; +but my master, when I asked leave to uncover myself, would not let me; +but as I have a little bit of curiosity about me, and a desire to know +what is forbidden and kept from me, quietly and without anyone seeing me +I drew aside the handkerchief covering my eyes ever so little, close to +my nose, and from underneath looked towards the earth, and it seemed to +me that it was altogether no bigger than a grain of mustard seed, and +that the men walking on it were little bigger than hazel nuts; so you may +see how high we must have got to then." + +To this the duchess said, "Sancho, my friend, mind what you are saying; +it seems you could not have seen the earth, but only the men walking on +it; for if the earth looked to you like a grain of mustard seed, and each +man like a hazel nut, one man alone would have covered the whole earth." + +"That is true," said Sancho, "but for all that I got a glimpse of a bit +of one side of it, and saw it all." + +"Take care, Sancho," said the duchess, "with a bit of one side one does +not see the whole of what one looks at." + +"I don't understand that way of looking at things," said Sancho; "I only +know that your ladyship will do well to bear in mind that as we were +flying by enchantment so I might have seen the whole earth and all the +men by enchantment whatever way I looked; and if you won't believe this, +no more will you believe that, uncovering myself nearly to the eyebrows, +I saw myself so close to the sky that there was not a palm and a half +between me and it; and by everything that I can swear by, senora, it is +mighty great! And it so happened we came by where the seven goats are, +and by God and upon my soul, as in my youth I was a goatherd in my own +country, as soon as I saw them I felt a longing to be among them for a +little, and if I had not given way to it I think I'd have burst. So I +come and take, and what do I do? without saying anything to anybody, not +even to my master, softly and quietly I got down from Clavileno and +amused myself with the goats--which are like violets, like flowers--for +nigh three-quarters of an hour; and Clavileno never stirred or moved from +one spot." + +"And while the good Sancho was amusing himself with the goats," said the +duke, "how did Senor Don Quixote amuse himself?" + +To which Don Quixote replied, "As all these things and such like +occurrences are out of the ordinary course of nature, it is no wonder +that Sancho says what he does; for my own part I can only say that I did +not uncover my eyes either above or below, nor did I see sky or earth or +sea or shore. It is true I felt that I was passing through the region of +the air, and even that I touched that of fire; but that we passed farther +I cannot believe; for the region of fire being between the heaven of the +moon and the last region of the air, we could not have reached that +heaven where the seven goats Sancho speaks of are without being burned; +and as we were not burned, either Sancho is lying or Sancho is dreaming." + +"I am neither lying nor dreaming," said Sancho; "only ask me the tokens +of those same goats, and you'll see by that whether I'm telling the truth +or not." + +"Tell us them then, Sancho," said the duchess. + +"Two of them," said Sancho, "are green, two blood-red, two blue, and one +a mixture of all colours." + +"An odd sort of goat, that," said the duke; "in this earthly region of +ours we have no such colours; I mean goats of such colours." + +"That's very plain," said Sancho; "of course there must be a difference +between the goats of heaven and the goats of the earth." + +"Tell me, Sancho," said the duke, "did you see any he-goat among those +goats?" + +"No, senor," said Sancho; "but I have heard say that none ever passed the +horns of the moon." + +They did not care to ask him anything more about his journey, for they +saw he was in the vein to go rambling all over the heavens giving an +account of everything that went on there, without having ever stirred +from the garden. Such, in short, was the end of the adventure of the +Distressed Duenna, which gave the duke and duchess laughing matter not +only for the time being, but for all their lives, and Sancho something to +talk about for ages, if he lived so long; but Don Quixote, coming close +to his ear, said to him, "Sancho, as you would have us believe what you +saw in heaven, I require you to believe me as to what I saw in the cave +of Montesinos; I say no more." + +Chapter XLII. - +Of the counsels which Don Quixote gave Sancho Panza before he set out to +govern the island, together with other well-considered matters + +The duke and duchess were so well pleased with the successful and droll +result of the adventure of the Distressed One, that they resolved to +carry on the joke, seeing what a fit subject they had to deal with for +making it all pass for reality. So having laid their plans and given +instructions to their servants and vassals how to behave to Sancho in his +government of the promised island, the next day, that following +Clavileno's flight, the duke told Sancho to prepare and get ready to go +and be governor, for his islanders were already looking out for him as +for the showers of May. + +Sancho made him an obeisance, and said, "Ever since I came down from +heaven, and from the top of it beheld the earth, and saw how little it +is, the great desire I had to be a governor has been partly cooled in me; +for what is there grand in being ruler on a grain of mustard seed, or +what dignity or authority in governing half a dozen men about as big as +hazel nuts; for, so far as I could see, there were no more on the whole +earth? If your lordship would be so good as to give me ever so small a +bit of heaven, were it no more than half a league, I'd rather have it +than the best island in the world." + +"Recollect, Sancho," said the duke, "I cannot give a bit of heaven, no +not so much as the breadth of my nail, to anyone; rewards and favours of +that sort are reserved for God alone. What I can give I give you, and +that is a real, genuine island, compact, well proportioned, and +uncommonly fertile and fruitful, where, if you know how to use your +opportunities, you may, with the help of the world's riches, gain those +of heaven." + +"Well then," said Sancho, "let the island come; and I'll try and be such +a governor, that in spite of scoundrels I'll go to heaven; and it's not +from any craving to quit my own humble condition or better myself, but +from the desire I have to try what it tastes like to be a governor." + +"If you once make trial of it, Sancho," said the duke, "you'll eat your +fingers off after the government, so sweet a thing is it to command and +be obeyed. Depend upon it when your master comes to be emperor (as he +will beyond a doubt from the course his affairs are taking), it will be +no easy matter to wrest the dignity from him, and he will be sore and +sorry at heart to have been so long without becoming one." + +"Senor," said Sancho, "it is my belief it's a good thing to be in +command, if it's only over a drove of cattle." + +"May I be buried with you, Sancho," said the duke, "but you know +everything; I hope you will make as good a governor as your sagacity +promises; and that is all I have to say; and now remember to-morrow is +the day you must set out for the government of the island, and this +evening they will provide you with the proper attire for you to wear, and +all things requisite for your departure." + +"Let them dress me as they like," said Sancho; "however I'm dressed I'll +be Sancho Panza." + +"That's true," said the duke; "but one's dress must be suited to the +office or rank one holds; for it would not do for a jurist to dress like +a soldier, or a soldier like a priest. You, Sancho, shall go partly as a +lawyer, partly as a captain, for, in the island I am giving you, arms are +needed as much as letters, and letters as much as arms." + +"Of letters I know but little," said Sancho, "for I don't even know the A +B C; but it is enough for me to have the Christus in my memory to be a +good governor. As for arms, I'll handle those they give me till I drop, +and then, God be my help!" + +"With so good a memory," said the duke, "Sancho cannot go wrong in +anything." + +Here Don Quixote joined them; and learning what passed, and how soon +Sancho was to go to his government, he with the duke's permission took +him by the hand, and retired to his room with him for the purpose of +giving him advice as to how he was to demean himself in his office. As +soon as they had entered the chamber he closed the door after him, and +almost by force made Sancho sit down beside him, and in a quiet tone thus +addressed him: "I give infinite thanks to heaven, friend Sancho, that, +before I have met with any good luck, fortune has come forward to meet +thee. I who counted upon my good fortune to discharge the recompense of +thy services, find myself still waiting for advancement, while thou, +before the time, and contrary to all reasonable expectation, seest +thyself blessed in the fulfillment of thy desires. Some will bribe, beg, +solicit, rise early, entreat, persist, without attaining the object of +their suit; while another comes, and without knowing why or wherefore, +finds himself invested with the place or office so many have sued for; +and here it is that the common saying, 'There is good luck as well as bad +luck in suits,' applies. Thou, who, to my thinking, art beyond all doubt +a dullard, without early rising or night watching or taking any trouble, +with the mere breath of knight-errantry that has breathed upon thee, +seest thyself without more ado governor of an island, as though it were a +mere matter of course. This I say, Sancho, that thou attribute not the +favour thou hast received to thine own merits, but give thanks to heaven +that disposes matters beneficently, and secondly thanks to the great +power the profession of knight-errantry contains in itself. With a heart, +then, inclined to believe what I have said to thee, attend, my son, to +thy Cato here who would counsel thee and be thy polestar and guide to +direct and pilot thee to a safe haven out of this stormy sea wherein thou +art about to ingulf thyself; for offices and great trusts are nothing +else but a mighty gulf of troubles. + +"First of all, my son, thou must fear God, for in the fear of him is +wisdom, and being wise thou canst not err in aught. + +"Secondly, thou must keep in view what thou art, striving to know +thyself, the most difficult thing to know that the mind can imagine. If +thou knowest thyself, it will follow thou wilt not puff thyself up like +the frog that strove to make himself as large as the ox; if thou dost, +the recollection of having kept pigs in thine own country will serve as +the ugly feet for the wheel of thy folly." + +"That's the truth," said Sancho; "but that was when I was a boy; +afterwards when I was something more of a man it was geese I kept, not +pigs. But to my thinking that has nothing to do with it; for all who are +governors don't come of a kingly stock." + +"True," said Don Quixote, "and for that reason those who are not of noble +origin should take care that the dignity of the office they hold he +accompanied by a gentle suavity, which wisely managed will save them from +the sneers of malice that no station escapes. + +"Glory in thy humble birth, Sancho, and be not ashamed of saying thou art +peasant-born; for when it is seen thou art not ashamed no one will set +himself to put thee to the blush; and pride thyself rather upon being one +of lowly virtue than a lofty sinner. Countless are they who, born of mean +parentage, have risen to the highest dignities, pontifical and imperial, +and of the truth of this I could give thee instances enough to weary +thee. + +"Remember, Sancho, if thou make virtue thy aim, and take a pride in doing +virtuous actions, thou wilt have no cause to envy those who have princely +and lordly ones, for blood is an inheritance, but virtue an acquisition, +and virtue has in itself alone a worth that blood does not possess. + +"This being so, if perchance anyone of thy kinsfolk should come to see +thee when thou art in thine island, thou art not to repel or slight him, +but on the contrary to welcome him, entertain him, and make much of him; +for in so doing thou wilt be approved of heaven (which is not pleased +that any should despise what it hath made), and wilt comply with the laws +of well-ordered nature. + +"If thou carriest thy wife with thee (and it is not well for those that +administer governments to be long without their wives), teach and +instruct her, and strive to smooth down her natural roughness; for all +that may be gained by a wise governor may be lost and wasted by a boorish +stupid wife. + +"If perchance thou art left a widower--a thing which may happen--and in +virtue of thy office seekest a consort of higher degree, choose not one +to serve thee for a hook, or for a fishing-rod, or for the hood of thy +'won't have it;' for verily, I tell thee, for all the judge's wife +receives, the husband will be held accountable at the general calling to +account; where he will have repay in death fourfold, items that in life +he regarded as naught. + +"Never go by arbitrary law, which is so much favoured by ignorant men who +plume themselves on cleverness. + +"Let the tears of the poor man find with thee more compassion, but not +more justice, than the pleadings of the rich. + +"Strive to lay bare the truth, as well amid the promises and presents of +the rich man, as amid the sobs and entreaties of the poor. + +"When equity may and should be brought into play, press not the utmost +rigour of the law against the guilty; for the reputation of the stern +judge stands not higher than that of the compassionate. + +"If perchance thou permittest the staff of justice to swerve, let it be +not by the weight of a gift, but by that of mercy. + +"If it should happen thee to give judgment in the cause of one who is +thine enemy, turn thy thoughts away from thy injury and fix them on the +justice of the case. + +"Let not thine own passion blind thee in another man's cause; for the +errors thou wilt thus commit will be most frequently irremediable; or if +not, only to be remedied at the expense of thy good name and even of thy +fortune. + +"If any handsome woman come to seek justice of thee, turn away thine eyes +from her tears and thine ears from her lamentations, and consider +deliberately the merits of her demand, if thou wouldst not have thy +reason swept away by her weeping, and thy rectitude by her sighs. + +"Abuse not by word him whom thou hast to punish in deed, for the pain of +punishment is enough for the unfortunate without the addition of thine +objurgations. + +"Bear in mind that the culprit who comes under thy jurisdiction is but a +miserable man subject to all the propensities of our depraved nature, and +so far as may be in thy power show thyself lenient and forbearing; for +though the attributes of God are all equal, to our eyes that of mercy is +brighter and loftier than that of justice. + +"If thou followest these precepts and rules, Sancho, thy days will be +long, thy fame eternal, thy reward abundant, thy felicity unutterable; +thou wilt marry thy children as thou wouldst; they and thy grandchildren +will bear titles; thou wilt live in peace and concord with all men; and, +when life draws to a close, death will come to thee in calm and ripe old +age, and the light and loving hands of thy great-grandchildren will close +thine eyes. + +"What I have thus far addressed to thee are instructions for the +adornment of thy mind; listen now to those which tend to that of the +body." + +Chapter XLIII. - +Of the second set of counsels Don Quixote gave Sancho Panza + +Who, hearing the foregoing discourse of Don Quixote, would not have set +him down for a person of great good sense and greater rectitude of +purpose? But, as has been frequently observed in the course of this great +history, he only talked nonsense when he touched on chivalry, and in +discussing all other subjects showed that he had a clear and unbiassed +understanding; so that at every turn his acts gave the lie to his +intellect, and his intellect to his acts; but in the case of these second +counsels that he gave Sancho he showed himself to have a lively turn of +humour, and displayed conspicuously his wisdom, and also his folly. + +Sancho listened to him with the deepest attention, and endeavoured to fix +his counsels in his memory, like one who meant to follow them and by +their means bring the full promise of his government to a happy issue. +Don Quixote, then, went on to say: + +"With regard to the mode in which thou shouldst govern thy person and thy +house, Sancho, the first charge I have to give thee is to be clean, and +to cut thy nails, not letting them grow as some do, whose ignorance makes +them fancy that long nails are an ornament to their hands, as if those +excrescences they neglect to cut were nails, and not the talons of a +lizard-catching kestrel--a filthy and unnatural abuse. + +"Go not ungirt and loose, Sancho; for disordered attire is a sign of an +unstable mind, unless indeed the slovenliness and slackness is to be set +down to craft, as was the common opinion in the case of Julius Caesar. + +"Ascertain cautiously what thy office may be worth; and if it will allow +thee to give liveries to thy servants, give them respectable and +serviceable, rather than showy and gay ones, and divide them between thy +servants and the poor; that is to say, if thou canst clothe six pages, +clothe three and three poor men, and thus thou wilt have pages for heaven +and pages for earth; the vainglorious never think of this new mode of +giving liveries. + +"Eat not garlic nor onions, lest they find out thy boorish origin by the +smell; walk slowly and speak deliberately, but not in such a way as to +make it seem thou art listening to thyself, for all affectation is bad. + +"Dine sparingly and sup more sparingly still; for the health of the whole +body is forged in the workshop of the stomach. + +"Be temperate in drinking, bearing in mind that wine in excess keeps +neither secrets nor promises. + +"Take care, Sancho, not to chew on both sides, and not to eruct in +anybody's presence." + +"Eruct!" said Sancho; "I don't know what that means." + +"To eruct, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "means to belch, and that is one of +the filthiest words in the Spanish language, though a very expressive +one; and therefore nice folk have had recourse to the Latin, and instead +of belch say eruct, and instead of belches say eructations; and if some +do not understand these terms it matters little, for custom will bring +them into use in the course of time, so that they will be readily +understood; this is the way a language is enriched; custom and the public +are all-powerful there." + +"In truth, senor," said Sancho, "one of the counsels and cautions I mean +to bear in mind shall be this, not to belch, for I'm constantly doing +it." + +"Eruct, Sancho, not belch," said Don Quixote. + +"Eruct, I shall say henceforth, and I swear not to forget it," said +Sancho. + +"Likewise, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "thou must not mingle such a +quantity of proverbs in thy discourse as thou dost; for though proverbs +are short maxims, thou dost drag them in so often by the head and +shoulders that they savour more of nonsense than of maxims." + +"God alone can cure that," said Sancho; "for I have more proverbs in me +than a book, and when I speak they come so thick together into my mouth +that they fall to fighting among themselves to get out; that's why my +tongue lets fly the first that come, though they may not be pat to the +purpose. But I'll take care henceforward to use such as befit the dignity +of my office; for 'in a house where there's plenty, supper is soon +cooked,' and 'he who binds does not wrangle,' and 'the bell-ringer's in a +safe berth,' and 'giving and keeping require brains.'" + +"That's it, Sancho!" said Don Quixote; "pack, tack, string proverbs +together; nobody is hindering thee! 'My mother beats me, and I go on with +my tricks.' I am bidding thee avoid proverbs, and here in a second thou +hast shot out a whole litany of them, which have as much to do with what +we are talking about as 'over the hills of Ubeda.' Mind, Sancho, I do not +say that a proverb aptly brought in is objectionable; but to pile up and +string together proverbs at random makes conversation dull and vulgar. + +"When thou ridest on horseback, do not go lolling with thy body on the +back of the saddle, nor carry thy legs stiff or sticking out from the +horse's belly, nor yet sit so loosely that one would suppose thou wert on +Dapple; for the seat on a horse makes gentlemen of some and grooms of +others. + +"Be moderate in thy sleep; for he who does not rise early does not get +the benefit of the day; and remember, Sancho, diligence is the mother of +good fortune, and indolence, its opposite, never yet attained the object +of an honest ambition. + +"The last counsel I will give thee now, though it does not tend to bodily +improvement, I would have thee carry carefully in thy memory, for I +believe it will be no less useful to thee than those I have given thee +already, and it is this--never engage in a dispute about families, at +least in the way of comparing them one with another; for necessarily one +of those compared will be better than the other, and thou wilt be hated +by the one thou hast disparaged, and get nothing in any shape from the +one thou hast exalted. + +"Thy attire shall be hose of full length, a long jerkin, and a cloak a +trifle longer; loose breeches by no means, for they are becoming neither +for gentlemen nor for governors. + +"For the present, Sancho, this is all that has occurred to me to advise +thee; as time goes by and occasions arise my instructions shall follow, +if thou take care to let me know how thou art circumstanced." + +"Senor," said Sancho, "I see well enough that all these things your +worship has said to me are good, holy, and profitable; but what use will +they be to me if I don't remember one of them? To be sure that about not +letting my nails grow, and marrying again if I have the chance, will not +slip out of my head; but all that other hash, muddle, and jumble--I don't +and can't recollect any more of it than of last year's clouds; so it must +be given me in writing; for though I can't either read or write, I'll +give it to my confessor, to drive it into me and remind me of it whenever +it is necessary." + +"Ah, sinner that I am!" said Don Quixote, "how bad it looks in governors +not to know how to read or write; for let me tell thee, Sancho, when a +man knows not how to read, or is left-handed, it argues one of two +things; either that he was the son of exceedingly mean and lowly parents, +or that he himself was so incorrigible and ill-conditioned that neither +good company nor good teaching could make any impression on him. It is a +great defect that thou labourest under, and therefore I would have thee +learn at any rate to sign thy name." "I can sign my name well enough," +said Sancho, "for when I was steward of the brotherhood in my village I +learned to make certain letters, like the marks on bales of goods, which +they told me made out my name. Besides I can pretend my right hand is +disabled and make some one else sign for me, for 'there's a remedy for +everything except death;' and as I shall be in command and hold the +staff, I can do as I like; moreover, 'he who has the alcalde for his +father-,' and I'll be governor, and that's higher than alcalde. Only come +and see! Let them make light of me and abuse me; 'they'll come for wool +and go back shorn;' 'whom God loves, his house is known to Him;' 'the +silly sayings of the rich pass for saws in the world;' and as I'll be +rich, being a governor, and at the same time generous, as I mean to be, +no fault will be seen in me. 'Only make yourself honey and the flies will +suck you;' 'as much as thou hast so much art thou worth,' as my +grandmother used to say; and 'thou canst have no revenge of a man of +substance.'" + +"Oh, God's curse upon thee, Sancho!" here exclaimed Don Quixote; "sixty +thousand devils fly away with thee and thy proverbs! For the last hour +thou hast been stringing them together and inflicting the pangs of +torture on me with every one of them. Those proverbs will bring thee to +the gallows one day, I promise thee; thy subjects will take the +government from thee, or there will be revolts among them. Tell me, where +dost thou pick them up, thou booby? How dost thou apply them, thou +blockhead? For with me, to utter one and make it apply properly, I have +to sweat and labour as if I were digging." + +"By God, master mine," said Sancho, "your worship is making a fuss about +very little. Why the devil should you be vexed if I make use of what is +my own? And I have got nothing else, nor any other stock in trade except +proverbs and more proverbs; and here are three just this instant come +into my head, pat to the purpose and like pears in a basket; but I won't +repeat them, for 'sage silence is called Sancho.'" + +"That, Sancho, thou art not," said Don Quixote; "for not only art thou +not sage silence, but thou art pestilent prate and perversity; still I +would like to know what three proverbs have just now come into thy +memory, for I have been turning over mine own--and it is a good one--and +none occurs to me." + +"What can be better," said Sancho, "than 'never put thy thumbs between +two back teeth;' and 'to "get out of my house" and "what do you want with +my wife?" there is no answer;' and 'whether the pitcher hits the stove, +or the stove the pitcher, it's a bad business for the pitcher;' all which +fit to a hair? For no one should quarrel with his governor, or him in +authority over him, because he will come off the worst, as he does who +puts his finger between two back and if they are not back teeth it makes +no difference, so long as they are teeth; and to whatever the governor +may say there's no answer, any more than to 'get out of my house' and +'what do you want with my wife?' and then, as for that about the stone +and the pitcher, a blind man could see that. So that he 'who sees the +mote in another's eye had need to see the beam in his own,' that it be +not said of himself, 'the dead woman was frightened at the one with her +throat cut;' and your worship knows well that 'the fool knows more in his +own house than the wise man in another's.'" + +"Nay, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "the fool knows nothing, either in his +own house or in anybody else's, for no wise structure of any sort can +stand on a foundation of folly; but let us say no more about it, Sancho, +for if thou governest badly, thine will be the fault and mine the shame; +but I comfort myself with having done my duty in advising thee as +earnestly and as wisely as I could; and thus I am released from my +obligations and my promise. God guide thee, Sancho, and govern thee in +thy government, and deliver me from the misgiving I have that thou wilt +turn the whole island upside down, a thing I might easily prevent by +explaining to the duke what thou art and telling him that all that fat +little person of thine is nothing else but a sack full of proverbs and +sauciness." + +"Senor," said Sancho, "if your worship thinks I'm not fit for this +government, I give it up on the spot; for the mere black of the nail of +my soul is dearer to me than my whole body; and I can live just as well, +simple Sancho, on bread and onions, as governor, on partridges and +capons; and what's more, while we're asleep we're all equal, great and +small, rich and poor. But if your worship looks into it, you will see it +was your worship alone that put me on to this business of governing; for +I know no more about the government of islands than a buzzard; and if +there's any reason to think that because of my being a governor the devil +will get hold of me, I'd rather go Sancho to heaven than governor to +hell." + +"By God, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "for those last words thou hast +uttered alone, I consider thou deservest to be governor of a thousand +islands. Thou hast good natural instincts, without which no knowledge is +worth anything; commend thyself to God, and try not to swerve in the +pursuit of thy main object; I mean, always make it thy aim and fixed +purpose to do right in all matters that come before thee, for heaven +always helps good intentions; and now let us go to dinner, for I think my +lord and lady are waiting for us." + +Chapter XLIV. - +How Sancho Panza was conducted to his government, and of the strange +adventure that befell Don Quixote in the castle + +It is stated, they say, in the true original of this history, that when +Cide Hamete came to write this chapter, his interpreter did not translate +it as he wrote it--that is, as a kind of complaint the Moor made against +himself for having taken in hand a story so dry and of so little variety +as this of Don Quixote, for he found himself forced to speak perpetually +of him and Sancho, without venturing to indulge in digressions and +episodes more serious and more interesting. He said, too, that to go on, +mind, hand, pen always restricted to writing upon one single subject, and +speaking through the mouths of a few characters, was intolerable +drudgery, the result of which was never equal to the author's labour, and +that to avoid this he had in the First Part availed himself of the device +of novels, like "The Ill-advised Curiosity," and "The Captive Captain," +which stand, as it were, apart from the story; the others are given there +being incidents which occurred to Don Quixote himself and could not be +omitted. He also thought, he says, that many, engrossed by the interest +attaching to the exploits of Don Quixote, would take none in the novels, +and pass them over hastily or impatiently without noticing the elegance +and art of their composition, which would be very manifest were they +published by themselves and not as mere adjuncts to the crazes of Don +Quixote or the simplicities of Sancho. Therefore in this Second Part he +thought it best not to insert novels, either separate or interwoven, but +only episodes, something like them, arising out of the circumstances the +facts present; and even these sparingly, and with no more words than +suffice to make them plain; and as he confines and restricts himself to +the narrow limits of the narrative, though he has ability; capacity, and +brains enough to deal with the whole universe, he requests that his +labours may not be despised, and that credit be given him, not alone for +what he writes, but for what he has refrained from writing. + +And so he goes on with his story, saying that the day Don Quixote gave +the counsels to Sancho, the same afternoon after dinner he handed them to +him in writing so that he might get some one to read them to him. They +had scarcely, however, been given to him when he let them drop, and they +fell into the hands of the duke, who showed them to the duchess and they +were both amazed afresh at the madness and wit of Don Quixote. To carry +on the joke, then, the same evening they despatched Sancho with a large +following to the village that was to serve him for an island. It happened +that the person who had him in charge was a majordomo of the duke's, a +man of great discretion and humour--and there can be no humour without +discretion--and the same who played the part of the Countess Trifaldi in +the comical way that has been already described; and thus qualified, and +instructed by his master and mistress as to how to deal with Sancho, he +carried out their scheme admirably. Now it came to pass that as soon as +Sancho saw this majordomo he seemed in his features to recognise those of +the Trifaldi, and turning to his master, he said to him, "Senor, either +the devil will carry me off, here on this spot, righteous and believing, +or your worship will own to me that the face of this majordomo of the +duke's here is the very face of the Distressed One." + +Don Quixote regarded the majordomo attentively, and having done so, said +to Sancho, "There is no reason why the devil should carry thee off, +Sancho, either righteous or believing--and what thou meanest by that I +know not; the face of the Distressed One is that of the majordomo, but +for all that the majordomo is not the Distressed One; for his being so +would involve a mighty contradiction; but this is not the time for going +into questions of the sort, which would be involving ourselves in an +inextricable labyrinth. Believe me, my friend, we must pray earnestly to +our Lord that he deliver us both from wicked wizards and enchanters." + +"It is no joke, senor," said Sancho, "for before this I heard him speak, +and it seemed exactly as if the voice of the Trifaldi was sounding in my +ears. Well, I'll hold my peace; but I'll take care to be on the look-out +henceforth for any sign that may be seen to confirm or do away with this +suspicion." + +"Thou wilt do well, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and thou wilt let me know +all thou discoverest, and all that befalls thee in thy government." + +Sancho at last set out attended by a great number of people. He was +dressed in the garb of a lawyer, with a gaban of tawny watered camlet +over all and a montera cap of the same material, and mounted a la gineta +upon a mule. Behind him, in accordance with the duke's orders, followed +Dapple with brand new ass-trappings and ornaments of silk, and from time +to time Sancho turned round to look at his ass, so well pleased to have +him with him that he would not have changed places with the emperor of +Germany. On taking leave he kissed the hands of the duke and duchess and +got his master's blessing, which Don Quixote gave him with tears, and he +received blubbering. + +Let worthy Sancho go in peace, and good luck to him, Gentle Reader; and +look out for two bushels of laughter, which the account of how he behaved +himself in office will give thee. In the meantime turn thy attention to +what happened his master the same night, and if thou dost not laugh +thereat, at any rate thou wilt stretch thy mouth with a grin; for Don +Quixote's adventures must be honoured either with wonder or with +laughter. + +It is recorded, then, that as soon as Sancho had gone, Don Quixote felt +his loneliness, and had it been possible for him to revoke the mandate +and take away the government from him he would have done so. The duchess +observed his dejection and asked him why he was melancholy; because, she +said, if it was for the loss of Sancho, there were squires, duennas, and +damsels in her house who would wait upon him to his full satisfaction. + +"The truth is, senora," replied Don Quixote, "that I do feel the loss of +Sancho; but that is not the main cause of my looking sad; and of all the +offers your excellence makes me, I accept only the good-will with which +they are made, and as to the remainder I entreat of your excellence to +permit and allow me alone to wait upon myself in my chamber." + +"Indeed, Senor Don Quixote," said the duchess, "that must not be; four of +my damsels, as beautiful as flowers, shall wait upon you." + +"To me," said Don Quixote, "they will not be flowers, but thorns to +pierce my heart. They, or anything like them, shall as soon enter my +chamber as fly. If your highness wishes to gratify me still further, +though I deserve it not, permit me to please myself, and wait upon myself +in my own room; for I place a barrier between my inclinations and my +virtue, and I do not wish to break this rule through the generosity your +highness is disposed to display towards me; and, in short, I will sleep +in my clothes, sooner than allow anyone to undress me." + +"Say no more, Senor Don Quixote, say no more," said the duchess; "I +assure you I will give orders that not even a fly, not to say a damsel, +shall enter your room. I am not the one to undermine the propriety of +Senor Don Quixote, for it strikes me that among his many virtues the one +that is pre-eminent is that of modesty. Your worship may undress and +dress in private and in your own way, as you please and when you please, +for there will be no one to hinder you; and in your chamber you will find +all the utensils requisite to supply the wants of one who sleeps with his +door locked, to the end that no natural needs compel you to open it. May +the great Dulcinea del Toboso live a thousand years, and may her fame +extend all over the surface of the globe, for she deserves to be loved by +a knight so valiant and so virtuous; and may kind heaven infuse zeal into +the heart of our governor Sancho Panza to finish off his discipline +speedily, so that the world may once more enjoy the beauty of so grand a +lady." + +To which Don Quixote replied, "Your highness has spoken like what you +are; from the mouth of a noble lady nothing bad can come; and Dulcinea +will be more fortunate, and better known to the world by the praise of +your highness than by all the eulogies the greatest orators on earth +could bestow upon her." + +"Well, well, Senor Don Quixote," said the duchess, is nearly supper-time, +and the duke is is probably waiting; come let us go to supper, and retire +to rest early, for the journey you made yesterday from Kandy was not such +a short one but that it must have caused you some fatigue." + +"I feel none, senora," said Don Quixote, "for I would go so far as to +swear to your excellence that in all my life I never mounted a quieter +beast, or a pleasanter paced one, than Clavileno; and I don't know what +could have induced Malambruno to discard a steed so swift and so gentle, +and burn it so recklessly as he did." + +"Probably," said the duchess, "repenting of the evil he had done to the +Trifaldi and company, and others, and the crimes he must have committed +as a wizard and enchanter, he resolved to make away with all the +instruments of his craft; and so burned Clavileno as the chief one, and +that which mainly kept him restless, wandering from land to land; and by +its ashes and the trophy of the placard the valour of the great Don +Quixote of La Mancha is established for ever." + +Don Quixote renewed his thanks to the duchess; and having supped, retired +to his chamber alone, refusing to allow anyone to enter with him to wait +on him, such was his fear of encountering temptations that might lead or +drive him to forget his chaste fidelity to his lady Dulcinea; for he had +always present to his mind the virtue of Amadis, that flower and mirror +of knights-errant. He locked the door behind him, and by the light of two +wax candles undressed himself, but as he was taking off his stockings--O +disaster unworthy of such a personage!--there came a burst, not of sighs, +or anything belying his delicacy or good breeding, but of some two dozen +stitches in one of his stockings, that made it look like a +window-lattice. The worthy gentleman was beyond measure distressed, and +at that moment he would have given an ounce of silver to have had half a +drachm of green silk there; I say green silk, because the stockings were +green. + +Here Cide Hamete exclaimed as he was writing, "O poverty, poverty! I know +not what could have possessed the great Cordovan poet to call thee 'holy +gift ungratefully received.' Although a Moor, I know well enough from the +intercourse I have had with Christians that holiness consists in charity, +humility, faith, obedience, and poverty; but for all that, I say he must +have a great deal of godliness who can find any satisfaction in being +poor; unless, indeed, it be the kind of poverty one of their greatest +saints refers to, saying, 'possess all things as though ye possessed them +not;' which is what they call poverty in spirit. But thou, that other +poverty--for it is of thee I am speaking now--why dost thou love to fall +out with gentlemen and men of good birth more than with other people? Why +dost thou compel them to smear the cracks in their shoes, and to have the +buttons of their coats, one silk, another hair, and another glass? Why +must their ruffs be always crinkled like endive leaves, and not crimped +with a crimping iron?" (From this we may perceive the antiquity of starch +and crimped ruffs.) Then he goes on: "Poor gentleman of good family! +always cockering up his honour, dining miserably and in secret, and +making a hypocrite of the toothpick with which he sallies out into the +street after eating nothing to oblige him to use it! Poor fellow, I say, +with his nervous honour, fancying they perceive a league off the patch on +his shoe, the sweat-stains on his hat, the shabbiness of his cloak, and +the hunger of his stomach!" + +All this was brought home to Don Quixote by the bursting of his stitches; +however, he comforted himself on perceiving that Sancho had left behind a +pair of travelling boots, which he resolved to wear the next day. At last +he went to bed, out of spirits and heavy at heart, as much because he +missed Sancho as because of the irreparable disaster to his stockings, +the stitches of which he would have even taken up with silk of another +colour, which is one of the greatest signs of poverty a gentleman can +show in the course of his never-failing embarrassments. He put out the +candles; but the night was warm and he could not sleep; he rose from his +bed and opened slightly a grated window that looked out on a beautiful +garden, and as he did so he perceived and heard people walking and +talking in the garden. He set himself to listen attentively, and those +below raised their voices so that he could hear these words: + +"Urge me not to sing, Emerencia, for thou knowest that ever since this +stranger entered the castle and my eyes beheld him, I cannot sing but +only weep; besides my lady is a light rather than a heavy sleeper, and I +would not for all the wealth of the world that she found us here; and +even if she were asleep and did not waken, my singing would be in vain, +if this strange AEneas, who has come into my neighbourhood to flout me, +sleeps on and wakens not to hear it." + +"Heed not that, dear Altisidora," replied a voice; "the duchess is no +doubt asleep, and everybody in the house save the lord of thy heart and +disturber of thy soul; for just now I perceived him open the grated +window of his chamber, so he must be awake; sing, my poor sufferer, in a +low sweet tone to the accompaniment of thy harp; and even if the duchess +hears us we can lay the blame on the heat of the night." + +"That is not the point, Emerencia," replied Altisidora, "it is that I +would not that my singing should lay bare my heart, and that I should be +thought a light and wanton maiden by those who know not the mighty power +of love; but come what may; better a blush on the cheeks than a sore in +the heart;" and here a harp softly touched made itself heard. As he +listened to all this Don Quixote was in a state of breathless amazement, +for immediately the countless adventures like this, with windows, +gratings, gardens, serenades, lovemakings, and languishings, that he had +read of in his trashy books of chivalry, came to his mind. He at once +concluded that some damsel of the duchess's was in love with him, and +that her modesty forced her to keep her passion secret. He trembled lest +he should fall, and made an inward resolution not to yield; and +commending himself with all his might and soul to his lady Dulcinea he +made up his mind to listen to the music; and to let them know he was +there he gave a pretended sneeze, at which the damsels were not a little +delighted, for all they wanted was that Don Quixote should hear them. So +having tuned the harp, Altisidora, running her hand across the strings, +began this ballad: + +poem{ + +O thou that art above in bed, + Between the holland sheets, +A-lying there from night till morn, + With outstretched legs asleep; + +O thou, most valiant knight of all + The famed Manchegan breed, +Of purity and virtue more + Than gold of Araby; + +Give ear unto a suffering maid, + Well-grown but evil-starr'd, +For those two suns of thine have lit + A fire within her heart. + +Adventures seeking thou dost rove, + To others bringing woe; +Thou scatterest wounds, but, ah, the balm + To heal them dost withhold! + +Say, valiant youth, and so may God + Thy enterprises speed, +Didst thou the light mid Libya's sands + Or Jaca's rocks first see? + +Did scaly serpents give thee suck? + Who nursed thee when a babe? +Wert cradled in the forest rude, + Or gloomy mountain cave? + +O Dulcinea may be proud, + That plump and lusty maid; +For she alone hath had the power + A tiger fierce to tame. + +And she for this shall famous be + From Tagus to Jarama, +From Manzanares to Genil, + From Duero to Arlanza. + +Fain would I change with her, and give + A petticoat to boot, +The best and bravest that I have, + All trimmed with gold galloon. + +O for to be the happy fair + Thy mighty arms enfold, +Or even sit beside thy bed + And scratch thy dusty poll! + +I rave,--to favours such as these + Unworthy to aspire; +Thy feet to tickle were enough + For one so mean as I. + +What caps, what slippers silver-laced, + Would I on thee bestow! +What damask breeches make for thee; + What fine long holland cloaks! + +And I would give thee pearls that should + As big as oak-galls show; +So matchless big that each might well + Be called the great "Alone." + +Manchegan Nero, look not down + From thy Tarpeian Rock +Upon this burning heart, nor add + The fuel of thy wrath. + +A virgin soft and young am I, + Not yet fifteen years old; +(I'm only three months past fourteen, + I swear upon my soul). + +I hobble not nor do I limp, + All blemish I'm without, +And as I walk my lily locks + Are trailing on the ground. + +And though my nose be rather flat, + And though my mouth be wide, +My teeth like topazes exalt + My beauty to the sky. + +Thou knowest that my voice is sweet, + That is if thou dost hear; +And I am moulded in a form + Somewhat below the mean. + +These charms, and many more, are thine, + Spoils to thy spear and bow all; +A damsel of this house am I, + By name Altisidora. + +}poem + +Here the lay of the heart-stricken Altisidora came to an end, while the +warmly wooed Don Quixote began to feel alarm; and with a deep sigh he +said to himself, "O that I should be such an unlucky knight that no +damsel can set eyes on me but falls in love with me! O that the peerless +Dulcinea should be so unfortunate that they cannot let her enjoy my +incomparable constancy in peace! What would ye with her, ye queens? Why +do ye persecute her, ye empresses? Why ye pursue her, ye virgins of from +fourteen to fifteen? Leave the unhappy being to triumph, rejoice and +glory in the lot love has been pleased to bestow upon her in surrendering +my heart and yielding up my soul to her. Ye love-smitten host, know that +to Dulcinea only I am dough and sugar-paste, flint to all others; for her +I am honey, for you aloes. For me Dulcinea alone is beautiful, wise, +virtuous, graceful, and high-bred, and all others are ill-favoured, +foolish, light, and low-born. Nature sent me into the world to be hers +and no other's; Altisidora may weep or sing, the lady for whose sake they +belaboured me in the castle of the enchanted Moor may give way to +despair, but I must be Dulcinea's, boiled or roast, pure, courteous, and +chaste, in spite of all the magic-working powers on earth." And with that +he shut the window with a bang, and, as much out of temper and out of +sorts as if some great misfortune had befallen him, stretched himself on +his bed, where we will leave him for the present, as the great Sancho +Panza, who is about to set up his famous government, now demands our +attention. + +Chapter XLV. - +Of how the great Sancho Panza took possession of his island, and of how +he made a beginning in governing + +O perpetual discoverer of the antipodes, torch of the world, eye of +heaven, sweet stimulator of the water-coolers! Thimbraeus here, Phoebus +there, now archer, now physician, father of poetry, inventor of music; +thou that always risest and, notwithstanding appearances, never settest! +To thee, O Sun, by whose aid man begetteth man, to thee I appeal to help +me and lighten the darkness of my wit that I may be able to proceed with +scrupulous exactitude in giving an account of the great Sancho Panza's +government; for without thee I feel myself weak, feeble, and uncertain. + +To come to the point, then--Sancho with all his attendants arrived at a +village of some thousand inhabitants, and one of the largest the duke +possessed. They informed him that it was called the island of Barataria, +either because the name of the village was Baratario, or because of the +joke by way of which the government had been conferred upon him. On +reaching the gates of the town, which was a walled one, the municipality +came forth to meet him, the bells rang out a peal, and the inhabitants +showed every sign of general satisfaction; and with great pomp they +conducted him to the principal church to give thanks to God, and then +with burlesque ceremonies they presented him with the keys of the town, +and acknowledged him as perpetual governor of the island of Barataria. +The costume, the beard, and the fat squat figure of the new governor +astonished all those who were not in the secret, and even all who were, +and they were not a few. Finally, leading him out of the church they +carried him to the judgment seat and seated him on it, and the duke's +majordomo said to him, "It is an ancient custom in this island, senor +governor, that he who comes to take possession of this famous island is +bound to answer a question which shall be put to him, and which must be a +somewhat knotty and difficult one; and by his answer the people take the +measure of their new governor's wit, and hail with joy or deplore his +arrival accordingly." + +While the majordomo was making this speech Sancho was gazing at several +large letters inscribed on the wall opposite his seat, and as he could +not read he asked what that was that was painted on the wall. The answer +was, "Senor, there is written and recorded the day on which your lordship +took possession of this island, and the inscription says, 'This day, the +so-and-so of such-and-such a month and year, Senor Don Sancho Panza took +possession of this island; many years may he enjoy it.'" + +"And whom do they call Don Sancho Panza?" asked Sancho. + +"Your lordship," replied the majordomo; "for no other Panza but the one +who is now seated in that chair has ever entered this island." + +"Well then, let me tell you, brother," said Sancho, "I haven't got the +'Don,' nor has any one of my family ever had it; my name is plain Sancho +Panza, and Sancho was my father's name, and Sancho was my grandfather's +and they were all Panzas, without any Dons or Donas tacked on; I suspect +that in this island there are more Dons than stones; but never mind; God +knows what I mean, and maybe if my government lasts four days I'll weed +out these Dons that no doubt are as great a nuisance as the midges, +they're so plenty. Let the majordomo go on with his question, and I'll +give the best answer I can, whether the people deplore or not." + +At this instant there came into court two old men, one carrying a cane by +way of a walking-stick, and the one who had no stick said, "Senor, some +time ago I lent this good man ten gold-crowns in gold to gratify him and +do him a service, on the condition that he was to return them to me +whenever I should ask for them. A long time passed before I asked for +them, for I would not put him to any greater straits to return them than +he was in when I lent them to him; but thinking he was growing careless +about payment I asked for them once and several times; and not only will +he not give them back, but he denies that he owes them, and says I never +lent him any such crowns; or if I did, that he repaid them; and I have no +witnesses either of the loan, or the payment, for he never paid me; I +want your worship to put him to his oath, and if he swears he returned +them to me I forgive him the debt here and before God." + +"What say you to this, good old man, you with the stick?" said Sancho. + +To which the old man replied, "I admit, senor, that he lent them to me; +but let your worship lower your staff, and as he leaves it to my oath, +I'll swear that I gave them back, and paid him really and truly." + +The governor lowered the staff, and as he did so the old man who had the +stick handed it to the other old man to hold for him while he swore, as +if he found it in his way; and then laid his hand on the cross of the +staff, saying that it was true the ten crowns that were demanded of him +had been lent him; but that he had with his own hand given them back into +the hand of the other, and that he, not recollecting it, was always +asking for them. + +Seeing this the great governor asked the creditor what answer he had to +make to what his opponent said. He said that no doubt his debtor had told +the truth, for he believed him to be an honest man and a good Christian, +and he himself must have forgotten when and how he had given him back the +crowns; and that from that time forth he would make no further demand +upon him. + +The debtor took his stick again, and bowing his head left the court. +Observing this, and how, without another word, he made off, and observing +too the resignation of the plaintiff, Sancho buried his head in his bosom +and remained for a short space in deep thought, with the forefinger of +his right hand on his brow and nose; then he raised his head and bade +them call back the old man with the stick, for he had already taken his +departure. They brought him back, and as soon as Sancho saw him he said, +"Honest man, give me that stick, for I want it." + +"Willingly," said the old man; "here it is senor," and he put it into his +hand. + +Sancho took it and, handing it to the other old man, said to him, "Go, +and God be with you; for now you are paid." + +"I, senor!" returned the old man; "why, is this cane worth ten +gold-crowns?" + +"Yes," said the governor, "or if not I am the greatest dolt in the world; +now you will see whether I have got the headpiece to govern a whole +kingdom;" and he ordered the cane to be broken in two, there, in the +presence of all. It was done, and in the middle of it they found ten +gold-crowns. All were filled with amazement, and looked upon their +governor as another Solomon. They asked him how he had come to the +conclusion that the ten crowns were in the cane; he replied, that +observing how the old man who swore gave the stick to his opponent while +he was taking the oath, and swore that he had really and truly given him +the crowns, and how as soon as he had done swearing he asked for the +stick again, it came into his head that the sum demanded must be inside +it; and from this he said it might be seen that God sometimes guides +those who govern in their judgments, even though they may be fools; +besides he had himself heard the curate of his village mention just such +another case, and he had so good a memory, that if it was not that he +forgot everything he wished to remember, there would not be such a memory +in all the island. To conclude, the old men went off, one crestfallen, +and the other in high contentment, all who were present were astonished, +and he who was recording the words, deeds, and movements of Sancho could +not make up his mind whether he was to look upon him and set him down as +a fool or as a man of sense. + +As soon as this case was disposed of, there came into court a woman +holding on with a tight grip to a man dressed like a well-to-do cattle +dealer, and she came forward making a great outcry and exclaiming, +"Justice, senor governor, justice! and if I don't get it on earth I'll go +look for it in heaven. Senor governor of my soul, this wicked man caught +me in the middle of the fields here and used my body as if it was an +ill-washed rag, and, woe is me! got from me what I had kept these +three-and-twenty years and more, defending it against Moors and +Christians, natives and strangers; and I always as hard as an oak, and +keeping myself as pure as a salamander in the fire, or wool among the +brambles, for this good fellow to come now with clean hands to handle +me!" + +"It remains to be proved whether this gallant has clean hands or not," +said Sancho; and turning to the man he asked him what he had to say in +answer to the woman's charge. + +He all in confusion made answer, "Sirs, I am a poor pig dealer, and this +morning I left the village to sell (saving your presence) four pigs, and +between dues and cribbings they got out of me little less than the worth +of them. As I was returning to my village I fell in on the road with this +good dame, and the devil who makes a coil and a mess out of everything, +yoked us together. I paid her fairly, but she not contented laid hold of +me and never let go until she brought me here; she says I forced her, but +she lies by the oath I swear or am ready to swear; and this is the whole +truth and every particle of it." + +The governor on this asked him if he had any money in silver about him; +he said he had about twenty ducats in a leather purse in his bosom. The +governor bade him take it out and hand it to the complainant; he obeyed +trembling; the woman took it, and making a thousand salaams to all and +praying to God for the long life and health of the senor governor who had +such regard for distressed orphans and virgins, she hurried out of court +with the purse grasped in both her hands, first looking, however, to see +if the money it contained was silver. + +As soon as she was gone Sancho said to the cattle dealer, whose tears +were already starting and whose eyes and heart were following his purse, +"Good fellow, go after that woman and take the purse from her, by force +even, and come back with it here;" and he did not say it to one who was a +fool or deaf, for the man was off like a flash of lightning, and ran to +do as he was bid. + +All the bystanders waited anxiously to see the end of the case, and +presently both man and woman came back at even closer grips than before, +she with her petticoat up and the purse in the lap of it, and he +struggling hard to take it from her, but all to no purpose, so stout was +the woman's defence, she all the while crying out, "Justice from God and +the world! see here, senor governor, the shamelessness and boldness of +this villain, who in the middle of the town, in the middle of the street, +wanted to take from me the purse your worship bade him give me." + +"And did he take it?" asked the governor. + +"Take it!" said the woman; "I'd let my life be taken from me sooner than +the purse. A pretty child I'd be! It's another sort of cat they must +throw in my face, and not that poor scurvy knave. Pincers and hammers, +mallets and chisels would not get it out of my grip; no, nor lions' +claws; the soul from out of my body first!" + +"She is right," said the man; "I own myself beaten and powerless; I +confess I haven't the strength to take it from her;" and he let go his +hold of her. + +Upon this the governor said to the woman, "Let me see that purse, my +worthy and sturdy friend." She handed it to him at once, and the governor +returned it to the man, and said to the unforced mistress of force, +"Sister, if you had shown as much, or only half as much, spirit and +vigour in defending your body as you have shown in defending that purse, +the strength of Hercules could not have forced you. Be off, and God speed +you, and bad luck to you, and don't show your face in all this island, or +within six leagues of it on any side, under pain of two hundred lashes; +be off at once, I say, you shameless, cheating shrew." + +The woman was cowed and went off disconsolately, hanging her head; and +the governor said to the man, "Honest man, go home with your money, and +God speed you; and for the future, if you don't want to lose it, see that +you don't take it into your head to yoke with anybody." The man thanked +him as clumsily as he could and went his way, and the bystanders were +again filled with admiration at their new governor's judgments and +sentences. + +Next, two men, one apparently a farm labourer, and the other a tailor, +for he had a pair of shears in his hand, presented themselves before him, +and the tailor said, "Senor governor, this labourer and I come before +your worship by reason of this honest man coming to my shop yesterday +(for saving everybody's presence I'm a passed tailor, God be thanked), +and putting a piece of cloth into my hands and asking me, 'Senor, will +there be enough in this cloth to make me a cap?' Measuring the cloth I +said there would. He probably suspected--as I supposed, and I supposed +right--that I wanted to steal some of the cloth, led to think so by his +own roguery and the bad opinion people have of tailors; and he told me to +see if there would be enough for two. I guessed what he would be at, and +I said 'yes.' He, still following up his original unworthy notion, went +on adding cap after cap, and I 'yes' after 'yes,' until we got as far as +five. He has just this moment come for them; I gave them to him, but he +won't pay me for the making; on the contrary, he calls upon me to pay +him, or else return his cloth." + +"Is all this true, brother?" said Sancho. + +"Yes," replied the man; "but will your worship make him show the five +caps he has made me?" + +"With all my heart," said the tailor; and drawing his hand from under his +cloak he showed five caps stuck upon the five fingers of it, and said, +"there are the caps this good man asks for; and by God and upon my +conscience I haven't a scrap of cloth left, and I'll let the work be +examined by the inspectors of the trade." + +All present laughed at the number of caps and the novelty of the suit; +Sancho set himself to think for a moment, and then said, "It seems to me +that in this case it is not necessary to deliver long-winded arguments, +but only to give off-hand the judgment of an honest man; and so my +decision is that the tailor lose the making and the labourer the cloth, +and that the caps go to the prisoners in the gaol, and let there be no +more about it." + +If the previous decision about the cattle dealer's purse excited the +admiration of the bystanders, this provoked their laughter; however, the +governor's orders were after all executed. All this, having been taken +down by his chronicler, was at once despatched to the duke, who was +looking out for it with great eagerness; and here let us leave the good +Sancho; for his master, sorely troubled in mind by Altisidora's music, +has pressing claims upon us now. + +Chapter XLVI. - +Of the terrible bell and cat fright that Don Quixote got in the course of +the enamoured Altisidora's wooing + +We left Don Quixote wrapped up in the reflections which the music of the +enamourned maid Altisidora had given rise to. He went to bed with them, +and just like fleas they would not let him sleep or get a moment's rest, +and the broken stitches of his stockings helped them. But as Time is +fleet and no obstacle can stay his course, he came riding on the hours, +and morning very soon arrived. Seeing which Don Quixote quitted the soft +down, and, nowise slothful, dressed himself in his chamois suit and put +on his travelling boots to hide the disaster to his stockings. He threw +over him his scarlet mantle, put on his head a montera of green velvet +trimmed with silver edging, flung across his shoulder the baldric with +his good trenchant sword, took up a large rosary that he always carried +with him, and with great solemnity and precision of gait proceeded to the +antechamber where the duke and duchess were already dressed and waiting +for him. But as he passed through a gallery, Altisidora and the other +damsel, her friend, were lying in wait for him, and the instant +Altisidora saw him she pretended to faint, while her friend caught her in +her lap, and began hastily unlacing the bosom of her dress. + +Don Quixote observed it, and approaching them said, "I know very well +what this seizure arises from." + +"I know not from what," replied the friend, "for Altisidora is the +healthiest damsel in all this house, and I have never heard her complain +all the time I have known her. A plague on all the knights-errant in the +world, if they be all ungrateful! Go away, Senor Don Quixote; for this +poor child will not come to herself again so long as you are here." + +To which Don Quixote returned, "Do me the favour, senora, to let a lute +be placed in my chamber to-night; and I will comfort this poor maiden to +the best of my power; for in the early stages of love a prompt +disillusion is an approved remedy;" and with this he retired, so as not +to be remarked by any who might see him there. + +He had scarcely withdrawn when Altisidora, recovering from her swoon, +said to her companion, "The lute must be left, for no doubt Don Quixote +intends to give us some music; and being his it will not be bad." + +They went at once to inform the duchess of what was going on, and of the +lute Don Quixote asked for, and she, delighted beyond measure, plotted +with the duke and her two damsels to play him a trick that should be +amusing but harmless; and in high glee they waited for night, which came +quickly as the day had come; and as for the day, the duke and duchess +spent it in charming conversation with Don Quixote. + +When eleven o'clock came, Don Quixote found a guitar in his chamber; he +tried it, opened the window, and perceived that some persons were walking +in the garden; and having passed his fingers over the frets of the guitar +and tuned it as well as he could, he spat and cleared his chest, and then +with a voice a little hoarse but full-toned, he sang the following +ballad, which he had himself that day composed: + +poem{ + +Mighty Love the hearts of maidens + Doth unsettle and perplex, +And the instrument he uses + Most of all is idleness. + +Sewing, stitching, any labour, + Having always work to do, +To the poison Love instilleth + Is the antidote most sure. + +And to proper-minded maidens + Who desire the matron's name +Modesty's a marriage portion, + Modesty their highest praise. + +Men of prudence and discretion, + Courtiers gay and gallant knights, +With the wanton damsels dally, + But the modest take to wife. + +There are passions, transient, fleeting, + Loves in hostelries declar'd, +Sunrise loves, with sunset ended, + When the guest hath gone his way. + +Love that springs up swift and sudden, + Here to-day, to-morrow flown, +Passes, leaves no trace behind it, + Leaves no image on the soul. + +Painting that is laid on painting + Maketh no display or show; +Where one beauty's in possession + There no other can take hold. + +Dulcinea del Toboso + Painted on my heart I wear; +Never from its tablets, never, + Can her image be eras'd. + +The quality of all in lovers + Most esteemed is constancy; +'T is by this that love works wonders, + This exalts them to the skies. + +}poem + +Don Quixote had got so far with his song, to which the duke, the duchess, +Altisidora, and nearly the whole household of the castle were listening, +when all of a sudden from a gallery above that was exactly over his +window they let down a cord with more than a hundred bells attached to +it, and immediately after that discharged a great sack full of cats, +which also had bells of smaller size tied to their tails. Such was the +din of the bells and the squalling of the cats, that though the duke and +duchess were the contrivers of the joke they were startled by it, while +Don Quixote stood paralysed with fear; and as luck would have it, two or +three of the cats made their way in through the grating of his chamber, +and flying from one side to the other, made it seem as if there was a +legion of devils at large in it. They extinguished the candles that were +burning in the room, and rushed about seeking some way of escape; the +cord with the large bells never ceased rising and falling; and most of +the people of the castle, not knowing what was really the matter, were at +their wits' end with astonishment. Don Quixote sprang to his feet, and +drawing his sword, began making passes at the grating, shouting out, +"Avaunt, malignant enchanters! avaunt, ye witchcraft-working rabble! I am +Don Quixote of La Mancha, against whom your evil machinations avail not +nor have any power." And turning upon the cats that were running about +the room, he made several cuts at them. They dashed at the grating and +escaped by it, save one that, finding itself hard pressed by the slashes +of Don Quixote's sword, flew at his face and held on to his nose tooth +and nail, with the pain of which he began to shout his loudest. The duke +and duchess hearing this, and guessing what it was, ran with all haste to +his room, and as the poor gentleman was striving with all his might to +detach the cat from his face, they opened the door with a master-key and +went in with lights and witnessed the unequal combat. The duke ran +forward to part the combatants, but Don Quixote cried out aloud, "Let no +one take him from me; leave me hand to hand with this demon, this wizard, +this enchanter; I will teach him, I myself, who Don Quixote of La Mancha +is." The cat, however, never minding these threats, snarled and held on; +but at last the duke pulled it off and flung it out of the window. Don +Quixote was left with a face as full of holes as a sieve and a nose not +in very good condition, and greatly vexed that they did not let him +finish the battle he had been so stoutly fighting with that villain of an +enchanter. They sent for some oil of John's wort, and Altisidora herself +with her own fair hands bandaged all the wounded parts; and as she did so +she said to him in a low voice. "All these mishaps have befallen thee, +hardhearted knight, for the sin of thy insensibility and obstinacy; and +God grant thy squire Sancho may forget to whip himself, so that that +dearly beloved Dulcinea of thine may never be released from her +enchantment, that thou mayest never come to her bed, at least while I who +adore thee am alive." + +To all this Don Quixote made no answer except to heave deep sighs, and +then stretched himself on his bed, thanking the duke and duchess for +their kindness, not because he stood in any fear of that bell-ringing +rabble of enchanters in cat shape, but because he recognised their good +intentions in coming to his rescue. The duke and duchess left him to +repose and withdrew greatly grieved at the unfortunate result of the +joke; as they never thought the adventure would have fallen so heavy on +Don Quixote or cost him so dear, for it cost him five days of confinement +to his bed, during which he had another adventure, pleasanter than the +late one, which his chronicler will not relate just now in order that he +may turn his attention to Sancho Panza, who was proceeding with great +diligence and drollery in his government. + +Chapter XLVII. - +Wherein is continued the account of how Sancho Panza conducted himself in +his government + +The history says that from the justice court they carried Sancho to a +sumptuous palace, where in a spacious chamber there was a table laid out +with royal magnificence. The clarions sounded as Sancho entered the room, +and four pages came forward to present him with water for his hands, +which Sancho received with great dignity. The music ceased, and Sancho +seated himself at the head of the table, for there was only that seat +placed, and no more than one cover laid. A personage, who it appeared +afterwards was a physician, placed himself standing by his side with a +whalebone wand in his hand. They then lifted up a fine white cloth +covering fruit and a great variety of dishes of different sorts; one who +looked like a student said grace, and a page put a laced bib on Sancho, +while another who played the part of head carver placed a dish of fruit +before him. But hardly had he tasted a morsel when the man with the wand +touched the plate with it, and they took it away from before him with the +utmost celerity. The carver, however, brought him another dish, and +Sancho proceeded to try it; but before he could get at it, not to say +taste it, already the wand had touched it and a page had carried it off +with the same promptitude as the fruit. Sancho seeing this was puzzled, +and looking from one to another asked if this dinner was to be eaten +after the fashion of a jugglery trick. + +To this he with the wand replied, "It is not to be eaten, senor governor, +except as is usual and customary in other islands where there are +governors. I, senor, am a physician, and I am paid a salary in this +island to serve its governors as such, and I have a much greater regard +for their health than for my own, studying day and night and making +myself acquainted with the governor's constitution, in order to be able +to cure him when he falls sick. The chief thing I have to do is to attend +at his dinners and suppers and allow him to eat what appears to me to be +fit for him, and keep from him what I think will do him harm and be +injurious to his stomach; and therefore I ordered that plate of fruit to +be removed as being too moist, and that other dish I ordered to be +removed as being too hot and containing many spices that stimulate +thirst; for he who drinks much kills and consumes the radical moisture +wherein life consists." + +"Well then," said Sancho, "that dish of roast partridges there that seems +so savoury will not do me any harm." + +To this the physician replied, "Of those my lord the governor shall not +eat so long as I live." + +"Why so?" said Sancho. + +"Because," replied the doctor, "our master Hippocrates, the polestar and +beacon of medicine, says in one of his aphorisms omnis saturatio mala, +perdicis autem pessima, which means 'all repletion is bad, but that of +partridge is the worst of all." + +"In that case," said Sancho, "let senor doctor see among the dishes that +are on the table what will do me most good and least harm, and let me eat +it, without tapping it with his stick; for by the life of the governor, +and so may God suffer me to enjoy it, but I'm dying of hunger; and in +spite of the doctor and all he may say, to deny me food is the way to +take my life instead of prolonging it." + +"Your worship is right, senor governor," said the physician; "and +therefore your worship, I consider, should not eat of those stewed +rabbits there, because it is a furry kind of food; if that veal were not +roasted and served with pickles, you might try it; but it is out of the +question." + +"That big dish that is smoking farther off," said Sancho, "seems to me to +be an olla podrida, and out of the diversity of things in such ollas, I +can't fail to light upon something tasty and good for me." + +"Absit," said the doctor; "far from us be any such base thought! There is +nothing in the world less nourishing than an olla podrida; to canons, or +rectors of colleges, or peasants' weddings with your ollas podridas, but +let us have none of them on the tables of governors, where everything +that is present should be delicate and refined; and the reason is, that +always, everywhere and by everybody, simple medicines are more esteemed +than compound ones, for we cannot go wrong in those that are simple, +while in the compound we may, by merely altering the quantity of the +things composing them. But what I am of opinion the governor should cat +now in order to preserve and fortify his health is a hundred or so of +wafer cakes and a few thin slices of conserve of quinces, which will +settle his stomach and help his digestion." + +Sancho on hearing this threw himself back in his chair and surveyed the +doctor steadily, and in a solemn tone asked him what his name was and +where he had studied. + +He replied, "My name, senor governor, is Doctor Pedro Recio de Aguero I +am a native of a place called Tirteafuera which lies between Caracuel and +Almodovar del Campo, on the right-hand side, and I have the degree of +doctor from the university of Osuna." + +To which Sancho, glowing all over with rage, returned, "Then let Doctor +Pedro Recio de Malaguero, native of Tirteafuera, a place that's on the +right-hand side as we go from Caracuel to Almodovar del Campo, graduate +of Osuna, get out of my presence at once; or I swear by the sun I'll take +a cudgel, and by dint of blows, beginning with him, I'll not leave a +doctor in the whole island; at least of those I know to be ignorant; for +as to learned, wise, sensible physicians, them I will reverence and +honour as divine persons. Once more I say let Pedro Recio get out of this +or I'll take this chair I am sitting on and break it over his head. And +if they call me to account for it, I'll clear myself by saying I served +God in killing a bad doctor--a general executioner. And now give me +something to eat, or else take your government; for a trade that does not +feed its master is not worth two beans." + +The doctor was dismayed when he saw the governor in such a passion, and +he would have made a Tirteafuera out of the room but that the same +instant a post-horn sounded in the street; and the carver putting his +head out of the window turned round and said, "It's a courier from my +lord the duke, no doubt with some despatch of importance." + +The courier came in all sweating and flurried, and taking a paper from +his bosom, placed it in the governor's hands. Sancho handed it to the +majordomo and bade him read the superscription, which ran thus: To Don +Sancho Panza, Governor of the Island of Barataria, into his own hands or +those of his secretary. Sancho when he heard this said, "Which of you is +my secretary?" "I am, senor," said one of those present, "for I can read +and write, and am a Biscayan." "With that addition," said Sancho, "you +might be secretary to the emperor himself; open this paper and see what +it says." The new-born secretary obeyed, and having read the contents +said the matter was one to be discussed in private. Sancho ordered the +chamber to be cleared, the majordomo and the carver only remaining; so +the doctor and the others withdrew, and then the secretary read the +letter, which was as follows: + +It has come to my knowledge, Senor Don Sancho Panza, that certain enemies +of mine and of the island are about to make a furious attack upon it some +night, I know not when. It behoves you to be on the alert and keep watch, +that they surprise you not. I also know by trustworthy spies that four +persons have entered the town in disguise in order to take your life, +because they stand in dread of your great capacity; keep your eyes open +and take heed who approaches you to address you, and eat nothing that is +presented to you. I will take care to send you aid if you find yourself +in difficulty, but in all things you will act as may be expected of your +judgment. From this place, the Sixteenth of August, at four in the +morning. + +Your friend, + +THE DUKE + +Sancho was astonished, and those who stood by made believe to be so too, +and turning to the majordomo he said to him, "What we have got to do +first, and it must be done at once, is to put Doctor Recio in the +lock-up; for if anyone wants to kill me it is he, and by a slow death and +the worst of all, which is hunger." + +"Likewise," said the carver, "it is my opinion your worship should not +eat anything that is on this table, for the whole was a present from some +nuns; and as they say, 'behind the cross there's the devil.'" + +"I don't deny it," said Sancho; "so for the present give me a piece of +bread and four pounds or so of grapes; no poison can come in them; for +the fact is I can't go on without eating; and if we are to be prepared +for these battles that are threatening us we must be well provisioned; +for it is the tripes that carry the heart and not the heart the tripes. +And you, secretary, answer my lord the duke and tell him that all his +commands shall be obeyed to the letter, as he directs; and say from me to +my lady the duchess that I kiss her hands, and that I beg of her not to +forget to send my letter and bundle to my wife Teresa Panza by a +messenger; and I will take it as a great favour and will not fail to +serve her in all that may lie within my power; and as you are about it +you may enclose a kiss of the hand to my master Don Quixote that he may +see I am grateful bread; and as a good secretary and a good Biscayan you +may add whatever you like and whatever will come in best; and now take +away this cloth and give me something to eat, and I'll be ready to meet +all the spies and assassins and enchanters that may come against me or my +island." + +At this instant a page entered saying, "Here is a farmer on business, who +wants to speak to your lordship on a matter of great importance, he +says." + +"It's very odd," said Sancho, "the ways of these men on business; is it +possible they can be such fools as not to see that an hour like this is +no hour for coming on business? We who govern and we who are judges--are +we not men of flesh and blood, and are we not to be allowed the time +required for taking rest, unless they'd have us made of marble? By God +and on my conscience, if the government remains in my hands (which I have +a notion it won't), I'll bring more than one man on business to order. +However, tell this good man to come in; but take care first of all that +he is not some spy or one of my assassins." + +"No, my lord," said the page, "for he looks like a simple fellow, and +either I know very little or he is as good as good bread." + +"There is nothing to be afraid of," said the majordomo, "for we are all +here." + +"Would it be possible, carver," said Sancho, "now that Doctor Pedro Recio +is not here, to let me eat something solid and substantial, if it were +even a piece of bread and an onion?" + +"To-night at supper," said the carver, "the shortcomings of the dinner +shall be made good, and your lordship shall be fully contented." + +"God grant it," said Sancho. + +The farmer now came in, a well-favoured man that one might see a thousand +leagues off was an honest fellow and a good soul. The first thing he said +was, "Which is the lord governor here?" + +"Which should it be," said the secretary, "but he who is seated in the +chair?" + +"Then I humble myself before him," said the farmer; and going on his +knees he asked for his hand, to kiss it. Sancho refused it, and bade him +stand up and say what he wanted. The farmer obeyed, and then said, "I am +a farmer, senor, a native of Miguelturra, a village two leagues from +Ciudad Real." + +"Another Tirteafuera!" said Sancho; "say on, brother; I know Miguelturra +very well I can tell you, for it's not very far from my own town." + +"The case is this, senor," continued the farmer, "that by God's mercy I +am married with the leave and licence of the holy Roman Catholic Church; +I have two sons, students, and the younger is studying to become +bachelor, and the elder to be licentiate; I am a widower, for my wife +died, or more properly speaking, a bad doctor killed her on my hands, +giving her a purge when she was with child; and if it had pleased God +that the child had been born, and was a boy, I would have put him to +study for doctor, that he might not envy his brothers the bachelor and +the licentiate." + +"So that if your wife had not died, or had not been killed, you would not +now be a widower," said Sancho. + +"No, senor, certainly not," said the farmer. + +"We've got that much settled," said Sancho; "get on, brother, for it's +more bed-time than business-time." + +"Well then," said the farmer, "this son of mine who is going to be a +bachelor, fell in love in the said town with a damsel called Clara +Perlerina, daughter of Andres Perlerino, a very rich farmer; and this +name of Perlerines does not come to them by ancestry or descent, but +because all the family are paralytics, and for a better name they call +them Perlerines; though to tell the truth the damsel is as fair as an +Oriental pearl, and like a flower of the field, if you look at her on the +right side; on the left not so much, for on that side she wants an eye +that she lost by small-pox; and though her face is thickly and deeply +pitted, those who love her say they are not pits that are there, but the +graves where the hearts of her lovers are buried. She is so cleanly that +not to soil her face she carries her nose turned up, as they say, so that +one would fancy it was running away from her mouth; and with all this she +looks extremely well, for she has a wide mouth; and but for wanting ten +or a dozen teeth and grinders she might compare and compete with the +comeliest. Of her lips I say nothing, for they are so fine and thin that, +if lips might be reeled, one might make a skein of them; but being of a +different colour from ordinary lips they are wonderful, for they are +mottled, blue, green, and purple--let my lord the governor pardon me for +painting so minutely the charms of her who some time or other will be my +daughter; for I love her, and I don't find her amiss." + +"Paint what you will," said Sancho; "I enjoy your painting, and if I had +dined there could be no dessert more to my taste than your portrait." + +"That I have still to furnish," said the farmer; "but a time will come +when we may be able if we are not now; and I can tell you, senor, if I +could paint her gracefulness and her tall figure, it would astonish you; +but that is impossible because she is bent double with her knees up to +her mouth; but for all that it is easy to see that if she could stand up +she'd knock her head against the ceiling; and she would have given her +hand to my bachelor ere this, only that she can't stretch it out, for +it's contracted; but still one can see its elegance and fine make by its +long furrowed nails." + +"That will do, brother," said Sancho; "consider you have painted her from +head to foot; what is it you want now? Come to the point without all this +beating about the bush, and all these scraps and additions." + +"I want your worship, senor," said the farmer, "to do me the favour of +giving me a letter of recommendation to the girl's father, begging him to +be so good as to let this marriage take place, as we are not ill-matched +either in the gifts of fortune or of nature; for to tell the truth, senor +governor, my son is possessed of a devil, and there is not a day but the +evil spirits torment him three or four times; and from having once fallen +into the fire, he has his face puckered up like a piece of parchment, and +his eyes watery and always running; but he has the disposition of an +angel, and if it was not for belabouring and pummelling himself he'd be a +saint." + +"Is there anything else you want, good man?" said Sancho. + +"There's another thing I'd like," said the farmer, "but I'm afraid to +mention it; however, out it must; for after all I can't let it be rotting +in my breast, come what may. I mean, senor, that I'd like your worship to +give me three hundred or six hundred ducats as a help to my bachelor's +portion, to help him in setting up house; for they must, in short, live +by themselves, without being subject to the interferences of their +fathers-in-law." + +"Just see if there's anything else you'd like," said Sancho, "and don't +hold back from mentioning it out of bashfulness or modesty." + +"No, indeed there is not," said the farmer. + +The moment he said this the governor started to his feet, and seizing the +chair he had been sitting on exclaimed, "By all that's good, you +ill-bred, boorish Don Bumpkin, if you don't get out of this at once and +hide yourself from my sight, I'll lay your head open with this chair. You +whoreson rascal, you devil's own painter, and is it at this hour you come +to ask me for six hundred ducats! How should I have them, you stinking +brute? And why should I give them to you if I had them, you knave and +blockhead? What have I to do with Miguelturra or the whole family of the +Perlerines? Get out I say, or by the life of my lord the duke I'll do as +I said. You're not from Miguelturra, but some knave sent here from hell +to tempt me. Why, you villain, I have not yet had the government half a +day, and you want me to have six hundred ducats already!" + +The carver made signs to the farmer to leave the room, which he did with +his head down, and to all appearance in terror lest the governor should +carry his threats into effect, for the rogue knew very well how to play +his part. + +But let us leave Sancho in his wrath, and peace be with them all; and let +us return to Don Quixote, whom we left with his face bandaged and +doctored after the cat wounds, of which he was not cured for eight days; +and on one of these there befell him what Cide Hamete promises to relate +with that exactitude and truth with which he is wont to set forth +everything connected with this great history, however minute it may be. + +Chapter XLVIII. - +Of what befell Don Quixote with Dona Rodriguez, the Duchess's Duenna, +together with other occurrences worthy of record and eternal remembrance + +Exceedingly moody and dejected was the sorely wounded Don Quixote, with +his face bandaged and marked, not by the hand of God, but by the claws of +a cat, mishaps incidental to knight-errantry. + +Six days he remained without appearing in public, and one night as he lay +awake thinking of his misfortunes and of Altisidora's pursuit of him, he +perceived that some one was opening the door of his room with a key, and +he at once made up his mind that the enamoured damsel was coming to make +an assault upon his chastity and put him in danger of failing in the +fidelity he owed to his lady Dulcinea del Toboso. "No," said he, firmly +persuaded of the truth of his idea (and he said it loud enough to be +heard), "the greatest beauty upon earth shall not avail to make me +renounce my adoration of her whom I bear stamped and graved in the core +of my heart and the secret depths of my bowels; be thou, lady mine, +transformed into a clumsy country wench, or into a nymph of golden Tagus +weaving a web of silk and gold, let Merlin or Montesinos hold thee +captive where they will; whereer thou art, thou art mine, and where'er I +am, must be thine." The very instant he had uttered these words, the door +opened. He stood up on the bed wrapped from head to foot in a yellow +satin coverlet, with a cap on his head, and his face and his moustaches +tied up, his face because of the scratches, and his moustaches to keep +them from drooping and falling down, in which trim he looked the most +extraordinary scarecrow that could be conceived. He kept his eyes fixed +on the door, and just as he was expecting to see the love-smitten and +unhappy Altisidora make her appearance, he saw coming in a most venerable +duenna, in a long white-bordered veil that covered and enveloped her from +head to foot. Between the fingers of her left hand she held a short +lighted candle, while with her right she shaded it to keep the light from +her eyes, which were covered by spectacles of great size, and she +advanced with noiseless steps, treading very softly. + +Don Quixote kept an eye upon her from his watchtower, and observing her +costume and noting her silence, he concluded that it must be some witch +or sorceress that was coming in such a guise to work him some mischief, +and he began crossing himself at a great rate. The spectre still +advanced, and on reaching the middle of the room, looked up and saw the +energy with which Don Quixote was crossing himself; and if he was scared +by seeing such a figure as hers, she was terrified at the sight of his; +for the moment she saw his tall yellow form with the coverlet and the +bandages that disfigured him, she gave a loud scream, and exclaiming, +"Jesus! what's this I see?" let fall the candle in her fright, and then +finding herself in the dark, turned about to make off, but stumbling on +her skirts in her consternation, she measured her length with a mighty +fall. + +Don Quixote in his trepidation began saying, "I conjure thee, phantom, or +whatever thou art, tell me what thou art and what thou wouldst with me. +If thou art a soul in torment, say so, and all that my powers can do I +will do for thee; for I am a Catholic Christian and love to do good to +all the world, and to this end I have embraced the order of +knight-errantry to which I belong, the province of which extends to doing +good even to souls in purgatory." + +The unfortunate duenna hearing herself thus conjured, by her own fear +guessed Don Quixote's and in a low plaintive voice answered, "Senor Don +Quixote--if so be you are indeed Don Quixote--I am no phantom or spectre +or soul in purgatory, as you seem to think, but Dona Rodriguez, duenna of +honour to my lady the duchess, and I come to you with one of those +grievances your worship is wont to redress." + +"Tell me, Senora Dona Rodriguez," said Don Quixote, "do you perchance +come to transact any go-between business? Because I must tell you I am +not available for anybody's purpose, thanks to the peerless beauty of my +lady Dulcinea del Toboso. In short, Senora Dona Rodriguez, if you will +leave out and put aside all love messages, you may go and light your +candle and come back, and we will discuss all the commands you have for +me and whatever you wish, saving only, as I said, all seductive +communications." + +"I carry nobody's messages, senor," said the duenna; "little you know me. +Nay, I'm not far enough advanced in years to take to any such childish +tricks. God be praised I have a soul in my body still, and all my teeth +and grinders in my mouth, except one or two that the colds, so common in +this Aragon country, have robbed me of. But wait a little, while I go and +light my candle, and I will return immediately and lay my sorrows before +you as before one who relieves those of all the world;" and without +staying for an answer she quitted the room and left Don Quixote +tranquilly meditating while he waited for her. A thousand thoughts at +once suggested themselves to him on the subject of this new adventure, +and it struck him as being ill done and worse advised in him to expose +himself to the danger of breaking his plighted faith to his lady; and +said he to himself, "Who knows but that the devil, being wily and +cunning, may be trying now to entrap me with a duenna, having failed with +empresses, queens, duchesses, marchionesses, and countesses? Many a time +have I heard it said by many a man of sense that he will sooner offer you +a flat-nosed wench than a roman-nosed one; and who knows but this +privacy, this opportunity, this silence, may awaken my sleeping desires, +and lead me in these my latter years to fall where I have never tripped? +In cases of this sort it is better to flee than to await the battle. But +I must be out of my senses to think and utter such nonsense; for it is +impossible that a long, white-hooded spectacled duenna could stir up or +excite a wanton thought in the most graceless bosom in the world. Is +there a duenna on earth that has fair flesh? Is there a duenna in the +world that escapes being ill-tempered, wrinkled, and prudish? Avaunt, +then, ye duenna crew, undelightful to all mankind. Oh, but that lady did +well who, they say, had at the end of her reception room a couple of +figures of duennas with spectacles and lace-cushions, as if at work, and +those statues served quite as well to give an air of propriety to the +room as if they had been real duennas." + +So saying he leaped off the bed, intending to close the door and not +allow Senora Rodriguez to enter; but as he went to shut it Senora +Rodriguez returned with a wax candle lighted, and having a closer view of +Don Quixote, with the coverlet round him, and his bandages and night-cap, +she was alarmed afresh, and retreating a couple of paces, exclaimed, "Am +I safe, sir knight? for I don't look upon it as a sign of very great +virtue that your worship should have got up out of bed." + +"I may well ask the same, senora," said Don Quixote; "and I do ask +whether I shall be safe from being assailed and forced?" + +"Of whom and against whom do you demand that security, sir knight?" said +the duenna. + +"Of you and against you I ask it," said Don Quixote; "for I am not +marble, nor are you brass, nor is it now ten o'clock in the morning, but +midnight, or a trifle past it I fancy, and we are in a room more secluded +and retired than the cave could have been where the treacherous and +daring AEneas enjoyed the fair soft-hearted Dido. But give me your hand, +senora; I require no better protection than my own continence, and my own +sense of propriety; as well as that which is inspired by that venerable +head-dress;" and so saying he kissed her right hand and took it in his +own, she yielding it to him with equal ceremoniousness. And here Cide +Hamete inserts a parenthesis in which he says that to have seen the pair +marching from the door to the bed, linked hand in hand in this way, he +would have given the best of the two tunics he had. + +Don Quixote finally got into bed, and Dona Rodriguez took her seat on a +chair at some little distance from his couch, without taking off her +spectacles or putting aside the candle. Don Quixote wrapped the +bedclothes round him and covered himself up completely, leaving nothing +but his face visible, and as soon as they had both regained their +composure he broke silence, saying, "Now, Senora Dona Rodriguez, you may +unbosom yourself and out with everything you have in your sorrowful heart +and afflicted bowels; and by me you shall be listened to with chaste +ears, and aided by compassionate exertions." + +"I believe it," replied the duenna; "from your worship's gentle and +winning presence only such a Christian answer could be expected. The fact +is, then, Senor Don Quixote, that though you see me seated in this chair, +here in the middle of the kingdom of Aragon, and in the attire of a +despised outcast duenna, I am from the Asturias of Oviedo, and of a +family with which many of the best of the province are connected by +blood; but my untoward fate and the improvidence of my parents, who, I +know not how, were unseasonably reduced to poverty, brought me to the +court of Madrid, where as a provision and to avoid greater misfortunes, +my parents placed me as seamstress in the service of a lady of quality, +and I would have you know that for hemming and sewing I have never been +surpassed by any all my life. My parents left me in service and returned +to their own country, and a few years later went, no doubt, to heaven, +for they were excellent good Catholic Christians. I was left an orphan +with nothing but the miserable wages and trifling presents that are given +to servants of my sort in palaces; but about this time, without any +encouragement on my part, one of the esquires of the household fell in +love with me, a man somewhat advanced in years, full-bearded and +personable, and above all as good a gentleman as the king himself, for he +came of a mountain stock. We did not carry on our loves with such secrecy +but that they came to the knowledge of my lady, and she, not to have any +fuss about it, had us married with the full sanction of the holy mother +Roman Catholic Church, of which marriage a daughter was born to put an +end to my good fortune, if I had any; not that I died in childbirth, for +I passed through it safely and in due season, but because shortly +afterwards my husband died of a certain shock he received, and had I time +to tell you of it I know your worship would be surprised;" and here she +began to weep bitterly and said, "Pardon me, Senor Don Quixote, if I am +unable to control myself, for every time I think of my unfortunate +husband my eyes fill up with tears. God bless me, with what an air of +dignity he used to carry my lady behind him on a stout mule as black as +jet! for in those days they did not use coaches or chairs, as they say +they do now, and ladies rode behind their squires. This much at least I +cannot help telling you, that you may observe the good breeding and +punctiliousness of my worthy husband. As he was turning into the Calle de +Santiago in Madrid, which is rather narrow, one of the alcaldes of the +Court, with two alguacils before him, was coming out of it, and as soon +as my good squire saw him he wheeled his mule about and made as if he +would turn and accompany him. My lady, who was riding behind him, said to +him in a low voice, 'What are you about, you sneak, don't you see that I +am here?' The alcalde like a polite man pulled up his horse and said to +him, 'Proceed, senor, for it is I, rather, who ought to accompany my lady +Dona Casilda'--for that was my mistress's name. Still my husband, cap in +hand, persisted in trying to accompany the alcalde, and seeing this my +lady, filled with rage and vexation, pulled out a big pin, or, I rather +think, a bodkin, out of her needle-case and drove it into his back with +such force that my husband gave a loud yell, and writhing fell to the +ground with his lady. Her two lacqueys ran to rise her up, and the +alcalde and the alguacils did the same; the Guadalajara gate was all in +commotion--I mean the idlers congregated there; my mistress came back on +foot, and my husband hurried away to a barber's shop protesting that he +was run right through the guts. The courtesy of my husband was noised +abroad to such an extent, that the boys gave him no peace in the street; +and on this account, and because he was somewhat shortsighted, my lady +dismissed him; and it was chagrin at this I am convinced beyond a doubt +that brought on his death. I was left a helpless widow, with a daughter +on my hands growing up in beauty like the sea-foam; at length, however, +as I had the character of being an excellent needlewoman, my lady the +duchess, then lately married to my lord the duke, offered to take me with +her to this kingdom of Aragon, and my daughter also, and here as time +went by my daughter grew up and with her all the graces in the world; she +sings like a lark, dances quick as thought, foots it like a gipsy, reads +and writes like a schoolmaster, and does sums like a miser; of her +neatness I say nothing, for the running water is not purer, and her age +is now, if my memory serves me, sixteen years five months and three days, +one more or less. To come to the point, the son of a very rich farmer, +living in a village of my lord the duke's not very far from here, fell in +love with this girl of mine; and in short, how I know not, they came +together, and under the promise of marrying her he made a fool of my +daughter, and will not keep his word. And though my lord the duke is +aware of it (for I have complained to him, not once but many and many a +time, and entreated him to order the farmer to marry my daughter), he +turns a deaf ear and will scarcely listen to me; the reason being that as +the deceiver's father is so rich, and lends him money, and is constantly +going security for his debts, he does not like to offend or annoy him in +any way. Now, senor, I want your worship to take it upon yourself to +redress this wrong either by entreaty or by arms; for by what all the +world says you came into it to redress grievances and right wrongs and +help the unfortunate. Let your worship put before you the unprotected +condition of my daughter, her youth, and all the perfections I have said +she possesses; and before God and on my conscience, out of all the +damsels my lady has, there is not one that comes up to the sole of her +shoe, and the one they call Altisidora, and look upon as the boldest and +gayest of them, put in comparison with my daughter, does not come within +two leagues of her. For I would have you know, senor, all is not gold +that glitters, and that same little Altisidora has more forwardness than +good looks, and more impudence than modesty; besides being not very +sound, for she has such a disagreeable breath that one cannot bear to be +near her for a moment; and even my lady the duchess--but I'll hold my +tongue, for they say that walls have ears." + +"For heaven's sake, Dona Rodriguez, what ails my lady the duchess?" asked +Don Quixote. + +"Adjured in that way," replied the duenna, "I cannot help answering the +question and telling the whole truth. Senor Don Quixote, have you +observed the comeliness of my lady the duchess, that smooth complexion of +hers like a burnished polished sword, those two cheeks of milk and +carmine, that gay lively step with which she treads or rather seems to +spurn the earth, so that one would fancy she went radiating health +wherever she passed? Well then, let me tell you she may thank, first of +all God, for this, and next, two issues that she has, one in each leg, by +which all the evil humours, of which the doctors say she is full, are +discharged." + +"Blessed Virgin!" exclaimed Don Quixote; "and is it possible that my lady +the duchess has drains of that sort? I would not have believed it if the +barefoot friars had told it me; but as the lady Dona Rodriguez says so, +it must be so. But surely such issues, and in such places, do not +discharge humours, but liquid amber. Verily, I do believe now that this +practice of opening issues is a very important matter for the health." + +Don Quixote had hardly said this, when the chamber door flew open with a +loud bang, and with the start the noise gave her Dona Rodriguez let the +candle fall from her hand, and the room was left as dark as a wolf's +mouth, as the saying is. Suddenly the poor duenna felt two hands seize +her by the throat, so tightly that she could not croak, while some one +else, without uttering a word, very briskly hoisted up her petticoats, +and with what seemed to be a slipper began to lay on so heartily that +anyone would have felt pity for her; but although Don Quixote felt it he +never stirred from his bed, but lay quiet and silent, nay apprehensive +that his turn for a drubbing might be coming. Nor was the apprehension an +idle one; one; for leaving the duenna (who did not dare to cry out) well +basted, the silent executioners fell upon Don Quixote, and stripping him +of the sheet and the coverlet, they pinched him so fast and so hard that +he was driven to defend himself with his fists, and all this in +marvellous silence. The battle lasted nearly half an hour, and then the +phantoms fled; Dona Rodriguez gathered up her skirts, and bemoaning her +fate went out without saying a word to Don Quixote, and he, sorely +pinched, puzzled, and dejected, remained alone, and there we will leave +him, wondering who could have been the perverse enchanter who had reduced +him to such a state; but that shall be told in due season, for Sancho +claims our attention, and the methodical arrangement of the story demands +it. + +Chapter XLIX. - +Of what happened Sancho in making the round of his island + +We left the great governor angered and irritated by that +portrait-painting rogue of a farmer who, instructed the majordomo, as the +majordomo was by the duke, tried to practise upon him; he however, fool, +boor, and clown as he was, held his own against them all, saying to those +round him and to Doctor Pedro Recio, who as soon as the private business +of the duke's letter was disposed of had returned to the room, "Now I see +plainly enough that judges and governors ought to be and must be made of +brass not to feel the importunities of the applicants that at all times +and all seasons insist on being heard, and having their business +despatched, and their own affairs and no others attended to, come what +may; and if the poor judge does not hear them and settle the +matter--either because he cannot or because that is not the time set +apart for hearing them-forthwith they abuse him, and run him down, and +gnaw at his bones, and even pick holes in his pedigree. You silly, stupid +applicant, don't be in a hurry; wait for the proper time and season for +doing business; don't come at dinner-hour, or at bed-time; for judges are +only flesh and blood, and must give to Nature what she naturally demands +of them; all except myself, for in my case I give her nothing to eat, +thanks to Senor Doctor Pedro Recio Tirteafuera here, who would have me +die of hunger, and declares that death to be life; and the same sort of +life may God give him and all his kind--I mean the bad doctors; for the +good ones deserve palms and laurels." + +All who knew Sancho Panza were astonished to hear him speak so elegantly, +and did not know what to attribute it to unless it were that office and +grave responsibility either smarten or stupefy men's wits. At last Doctor +Pedro Recio Agilers of Tirteafuera promised to let him have supper that +night though it might be in contravention of all the aphorisms of +Hippocrates. With this the governor was satisfied and looked forward to +the approach of night and supper-time with great anxiety; and though +time, to his mind, stood still and made no progress, nevertheless the +hour he so longed for came, and they gave him a beef salad with onions +and some boiled calves' feet rather far gone. At this he fell to with +greater relish than if they had given him francolins from Milan, +pheasants from Rome, veal from Sorrento, partridges from Moron, or geese +from Lavajos, and turning to the doctor at supper he said to him, "Look +here, senor doctor, for the future don't trouble yourself about giving me +dainty things or choice dishes to eat, for it will be only taking my +stomach off its hinges; it is accustomed to goat, cow, bacon, hung beef, +turnips and onions; and if by any chance it is given these palace dishes, +it receives them squeamishly, and sometimes with loathing. What the +head-carver had best do is to serve me with what they call ollas podridas +(and the rottener they are the better they smell); and he can put +whatever he likes into them, so long as it is good to eat, and I'll be +obliged to him, and will requite him some day. But let nobody play pranks +on me, for either we are or we are not; let us live and eat in peace and +good-fellowship, for when God sends the dawn, he sends it for all. I mean +to govern this island without giving up a right or taking a bribe; let +everyone keep his eye open, and look out for the arrow; for I can tell +them 'the devil's in Cantillana,' and if they drive me to it they'll see +something that will astonish them. Nay! make yourself honey and the flies +eat you." + +"Of a truth, senor governor," said the carver, "your worship is in the +right of it in everything you have said; and I promise you in the name of +all the inhabitants of this island that they will serve your worship with +all zeal, affection, and good-will, for the mild kind of government you +have given a sample of to begin with, leaves them no ground for doing or +thinking anything to your worship's disadvantage." + +"That I believe," said Sancho; "and they would be great fools if they did +or thought otherwise; once more I say, see to my feeding and my Dapple's +for that is the great point and what is most to the purpose; and when the +hour comes let us go the rounds, for it is my intention to purge this +island of all manner of uncleanness and of all idle good-for-nothing +vagabonds; for I would have you know that lazy idlers are the same thing +in a State as the drones in a hive, that eat up the honey the industrious +bees make. I mean to protect the husbandman, to preserve to the gentleman +his privileges, to reward the virtuous, and above all to respect religion +and honour its ministers. What say you to that, my friends? Is there +anything in what I say, or am I talking to no purpose?" + +"There is so much in what your worship says, senor governor," said the +majordomo, "that I am filled with wonder when I see a man like your +worship, entirely without learning (for I believe you have none at all), +say such things, and so full of sound maxims and sage remarks, very +different from what was expected of your worship's intelligence by those +who sent us or by us who came here. Every day we see something new in +this world; jokes become realities, and the jokers find the tables turned +upon them." + +Night came, and with the permission of Doctor Pedro Recio, the governor +had supper. They then got ready to go the rounds, and he started with the +majordomo, the secretary, the head-carver, the chronicler charged with +recording his deeds, and alguacils and notaries enough to form a +fair-sized squadron. In the midst marched Sancho with his staff, as fine +a sight as one could wish to see, and but a few streets of the town had +been traversed when they heard a noise as of a clashing of swords. They +hastened to the spot, and found that the combatants were but two, who +seeing the authorities approaching stood still, and one of them +exclaimed, "Help, in the name of God and the king! Are men to be allowed +to rob in the middle of this town, and rush out and attack people in the +very streets?" + +"Be calm, my good man," said Sancho, "and tell me what the cause of this +quarrel is; for I am the governor." + +Said the other combatant, "Senor governor, I will tell you in a very few +words. Your worship must know that this gentleman has just now won more +than a thousand reals in that gambling house opposite, and God knows how. +I was there, and gave more than one doubtful point in his favour, very +much against what my conscience told me. He made off with his winnings, +and when I made sure he was going to give me a crown or so at least by +way of a present, as it is usual and customary to give men of quality of +my sort who stand by to see fair or foul play, and back up swindles, and +prevent quarrels, he pocketed his money and left the house. Indignant at +this I followed him, and speaking him fairly and civilly asked him to +give me if it were only eight reals, for he knows I am an honest man and +that I have neither profession nor property, for my parents never brought +me up to any or left me any; but the rogue, who is a greater thief than +Cacus and a greater sharper than Andradilla, would not give me more than +four reals; so your worship may see how little shame and conscience he +has. But by my faith if you had not come up I'd have made him disgorge +his winnings, and he'd have learned what the range of the steel-yard +was." + +"What say you to this?" asked Sancho. The other replied that all his +antagonist said was true, and that he did not choose to give him more +than four reals because he very often gave him money; and that those who +expected presents ought to be civil and take what is given them with a +cheerful countenance, and not make any claim against winners unless they +know them for certain to be sharpers and their winnings to be unfairly +won; and that there could be no better proof that he himself was an +honest man than his having refused to give anything; for sharpers always +pay tribute to lookers-on who know them. + +"That is true," said the majordomo; "let your worship consider what is to +be done with these men." + +"What is to be done," said Sancho, "is this; you, the winner, be you +good, bad, or indifferent, give this assailant of yours a hundred reals +at once, and you must disburse thirty more for the poor prisoners; and +you who have neither profession nor property, and hang about the island +in idleness, take these hundred reals now, and some time of the day +to-morrow quit the island under sentence of banishment for ten years, and +under pain of completing it in another life if you violate the sentence, +for I'll hang you on a gibbet, or at least the hangman will by my orders; +not a word from either of you, or I'll make him feel my hand." + +The one paid down the money and the other took it, and the latter quitted +the island, while the other went home; and then the governor said, +"Either I am not good for much, or I'll get rid of these gambling houses, +for it strikes me they are very mischievous." + +"This one at least," said one of the notaries, "your worship will not be +able to get rid of, for a great man owns it, and what he loses every year +is beyond all comparison more than what he makes by the cards. On the +minor gambling houses your worship may exercise your power, and it is +they that do most harm and shelter the most barefaced practices; for in +the houses of lords and gentlemen of quality the notorious sharpers dare +not attempt to play their tricks; and as the vice of gambling has become +common, it is better that men should play in houses of repute than in +some tradesman's, where they catch an unlucky fellow in the small hours +of the morning and skin him alive." + +"I know already, notary, that there is a good deal to be said on that +point," said Sancho. + +And now a tipstaff came up with a young man in his grasp, and said, +"Senor governor, this youth was coming towards us, and as soon as he saw +the officers of justice he turned about and ran like a deer, a sure proof +that he must be some evil-doer; I ran after him, and had it not been that +he stumbled and fell, I should never have caught him." + +"What did you run for, fellow?" said Sancho. + +To which the young man replied, "Senor, it was to avoid answering all the +questions officers of justice put." + +"What are you by trade?" + +"A weaver." + +"And what do you weave?" + +"Lance heads, with your worship's good leave." + +"You're facetious with me! You plume yourself on being a wag? Very good; +and where were you going just now?" + +"To take the air, senor." + +"And where does one take the air in this island?" + +"Where it blows." + +"Good! your answers are very much to the point; you are a smart youth; +but take notice that I am the air, and that I blow upon you a-stern, and +send you to gaol. Ho there! lay hold of him and take him off; I'll make +him sleep there to-night without air." + +"By God," said the young man, "your worship will make me sleep in gaol +just as soon as make me king." + +"Why shan't I make thee sleep in gaol?" said Sancho. "Have I not the +power to arrest thee and release thee whenever I like?" + +"All the power your worship has," said the young man, "won't be able to +make me sleep in gaol." + +"How? not able!" said Sancho; "take him away at once where he'll see his +mistake with his own eyes, even if the gaoler is willing to exert his +interested generosity on his behalf; for I'll lay a penalty of two +thousand ducats on him if he allows him to stir a step from the prison." + +"That's ridiculous," said the young man; "the fact is, all the men on +earth will not make me sleep in prison." + +"Tell me, you devil," said Sancho, "have you got any angel that will +deliver you, and take off the irons I am going to order them to put upon +you?" + +"Now, senor governor," said the young man in a sprightly manner, "let us +be reasonable and come to the point. Granted your worship may order me to +be taken to prison, and to have irons and chains put on me, and to be +shut up in a cell, and may lay heavy penalties on the gaoler if he lets +me out, and that he obeys your orders; still, if I don't choose to sleep, +and choose to remain awake all night without closing an eye, will your +worship with all your power be able to make me sleep if I don't choose?" + +"No, truly," said the secretary, "and the fellow has made his point." + +"So then," said Sancho, "it would be entirely of your own choice you +would keep from sleeping; not in opposition to my will?" + +"No, senor," said the youth, "certainly not." + +"Well then, go, and God be with you," said Sancho; "be off home to sleep, +and God give you sound sleep, for I don't want to rob you of it; but for +the future, let me advise you don't joke with the authorities, because +you may come across some one who will bring down the joke on your own +skull." + +The young man went his way, and the governor continued his round, and +shortly afterwards two tipstaffs came up with a man in custody, and said, +"Senor governor, this person, who seems to be a man, is not so, but a +woman, and not an ill-favoured one, in man's clothes." They raised two or +three lanterns to her face, and by their light they distinguished the +features of a woman to all appearance of the age of sixteen or a little +more, with her hair gathered into a gold and green silk net, and fair as +a thousand pearls. They scanned her from head to foot, and observed that +she had on red silk stockings with garters of white taffety bordered with +gold and pearl; her breeches were of green and gold stuff, and under an +open jacket or jerkin of the same she wore a doublet of the finest white +and gold cloth; her shoes were white and such as men wear; she carried no +sword at her belt, but only a richly ornamented dagger, and on her +fingers she had several handsome rings. In short, the girl seemed fair to +look at in the eyes of all, and none of those who beheld her knew her, +the people of the town said they could not imagine who she was, and those +who were in the secret of the jokes that were to be practised upon Sancho +were the ones who were most surprised, for this incident or discovery had +not been arranged by them; and they watched anxiously to see how the +affair would end. + +Sancho was fascinated by the girl's beauty, and he asked her who she was, +where she was going, and what had induced her to dress herself in that +garb. She with her eyes fixed on the ground answered in modest confusion, +"I cannot tell you, senor, before so many people what it is of such +consequence to me to have kept secret; one thing I wish to be known, that +I am no thief or evildoer, but only an unhappy maiden whom the power of +jealousy has led to break through the respect that is due to modesty." + +Hearing this the majordomo said to Sancho, "Make the people stand back, +senor governor, that this lady may say what she wishes with less +embarrassment." + +Sancho gave the order, and all except the majordomo, the head-carver, and +the secretary fell back. Finding herself then in the presence of no more, +the damsel went on to say, "I am the daughter, sirs, of Pedro Perez +Mazorca, the wool-farmer of this town, who is in the habit of coming very +often to my father's house." + +"That won't do, senora," said the majordomo; "for I know Pedro Perez very +well, and I know he has no child at all, either son or daughter; and +besides, though you say he is your father, you add then that he comes +very often to your father's house." + +"I had already noticed that," said Sancho. + +"I am confused just now, sirs," said the damsel, "and I don't know what I +am saying; but the truth is that I am the daughter of Diego de la Llana, +whom you must all know." + +"Ay, that will do," said the majordomo; "for I know Diego de la Llana, +and know that he is a gentleman of position and a rich man, and that he +has a son and a daughter, and that since he was left a widower nobody in +all this town can speak of having seen his daughter's face; for he keeps +her so closely shut up that he does not give even the sun a chance of +seeing her; and for all that report says she is extremely beautiful." + +"It is true," said the damsel, "and I am that daughter; whether report +lies or not as to my beauty, you, sirs, will have decided by this time, +as you have seen me;" and with this she began to weep bitterly. + +On seeing this the secretary leant over to the head-carver's ear, and +said to him in a low voice, "Something serious has no doubt happened this +poor maiden, that she goes wandering from home in such a dress and at +such an hour, and one of her rank too." "There can be no doubt about it," +returned the carver, "and moreover her tears confirm your suspicion." +Sancho gave her the best comfort he could, and entreated her to tell them +without any fear what had happened her, as they would all earnestly and +by every means in their power endeavour to relieve her. + +"The fact is, sirs," said she, "that my father has kept me shut up these +ten years, for so long is it since the earth received my mother. Mass is +said at home in a sumptuous chapel, and all this time I have seen but the +sun in the heaven by day, and the moon and the stars by night; nor do I +know what streets are like, or plazas, or churches, or even men, except +my father and a brother I have, and Pedro Perez the wool-farmer; whom, +because he came frequently to our house, I took it into my head to call +my father, to avoid naming my own. This seclusion and the restrictions +laid upon my going out, were it only to church, have been keeping me +unhappy for many a day and month past; I longed to see the world, or at +least the town where I was born, and it did not seem to me that this wish +was inconsistent with the respect maidens of good quality should have for +themselves. When I heard them talking of bull-fights taking place, and of +javelin games, and of acting plays, I asked my brother, who is a year +younger than myself, to tell me what sort of things these were, and many +more that I had never seen; he explained them to me as well as he could, +but the only effect was to kindle in me a still stronger desire to see +them. At last, to cut short the story of my ruin, I begged and entreated +my brother--O that I had never made such an entreaty-" And once more she +gave way to a burst of weeping. + +"Proceed, senora," said the majordomo, "and finish your story of what has +happened to you, for your words and tears are keeping us all in +suspense." + +"I have but little more to say, though many a tear to shed," said the +damsel; "for ill-placed desires can only be paid for in some such way." + +The maiden's beauty had made a deep impression on the head-carver's +heart, and he again raised his lantern for another look at her, and +thought they were not tears she was shedding, but seed-pearl or dew of +the meadow, nay, he exalted them still higher, and made Oriental pearls +of them, and fervently hoped her misfortune might not be so great a one +as her tears and sobs seemed to indicate. The governor was losing +patience at the length of time the girl was taking to tell her story, and +told her not to keep them waiting any longer; for it was late, and there +still remained a good deal of the town to be gone over. + +She, with broken sobs and half-suppressed sighs, went on to say, "My +misfortune, my misadventure, is simply this, that I entreated my brother +to dress me up as a man in a suit of his clothes, and take me some night, +when our father was asleep, to see the whole town; he, overcome by my +entreaties, consented, and dressing me in this suit and himself in +clothes of mine that fitted him as if made for him (for he has not a hair +on his chin, and might pass for a very beautiful young girl), to-night, +about an hour ago, more or less, we left the house, and guided by our +youthful and foolish impulse we made the circuit of the whole town, and +then, as we were about to return home, we saw a great troop of people +coming, and my brother said to me, 'Sister, this must be the round, stir +your feet and put wings to them, and follow me as fast as you can, lest +they recognise us, for that would be a bad business for us;' and so +saying he turned about and began, I cannot say to run but to fly; in less +than six paces I fell from fright, and then the officer of justice came +up and carried me before your worships, where I find myself put to shame +before all these people as whimsical and vicious." + +"So then, senora," said Sancho, "no other mishap has befallen you, nor +was it jealousy that made you leave home, as you said at the beginning of +your story?" + +"Nothing has happened me," said she, "nor was it jealousy that brought me +out, but merely a longing to see the world, which did not go beyond +seeing the streets of this town." + +The appearance of the tipstaffs with her brother in custody, whom one of +them had overtaken as he ran away from his sister, now fully confirmed +the truth of what the damsel said. He had nothing on but a rich petticoat +and a short blue damask cloak with fine gold lace, and his head was +uncovered and adorned only with its own hair, which looked like rings of +gold, so bright and curly was it. The governor, the majordomo, and the +carver went aside with him, and, unheard by his sister, asked him how he +came to be in that dress, and he with no less shame and embarrassment +told exactly the same story as his sister, to the great delight of the +enamoured carver; the governor, however, said to them, "In truth, young +lady and gentleman, this has been a very childish affair, and to explain +your folly and rashness there was no necessity for all this delay and all +these tears and sighs; for if you had said we are so-and-so, and we +escaped from our father's house in this way in order to ramble about, out +of mere curiosity and with no other object, there would have been an end +of the matter, and none of these little sobs and tears and all the rest +of it." + +"That is true," said the damsel, "but you see the confusion I was in was +so great it did not let me behave as I ought." + +"No harm has been done," said Sancho; "come, we will leave you at your +father's house; perhaps they will not have missed you; and another time +don't be so childish or eager to see the world; for a respectable damsel +should have a broken leg and keep at home; and the woman and the hen by +gadding about are soon lost; and she who is eager to see is also eager to +be seen; I say no more." + +The youth thanked the governor for his kind offer to take them home, and +they directed their steps towards the house, which was not far off. On +reaching it the youth threw a pebble up at a grating, and immediately a +woman-servant who was waiting for them came down and opened the door to +them, and they went in, leaving the party marvelling as much at their +grace and beauty as at the fancy they had for seeing the world by night +and without quitting the village; which, however, they set down to their +youth. + +The head-carver was left with a heart pierced through and through, and he +made up his mind on the spot to demand the damsel in marriage of her +father on the morrow, making sure she would not be refused him as he was +a servant of the duke's; and even to Sancho ideas and schemes of marrying +the youth to his daughter Sanchica suggested themselves, and he resolved +to open the negotiation at the proper season, persuading himself that no +husband could be refused to a governor's daughter. And so the night's +round came to an end, and a couple of days later the government, whereby +all his plans were overthrown and swept away, as will be seen farther on. + +Chapter L. - +Wherein is set forth who the enchanters and executioners were who flogged +the Duenna and pinched Don Quixote, and also what befell the page who +carried the letter to Teresa Panza, Sancho Panza's wife + +Cide Hamete, the painstaking investigator of the minute points of this +veracious history, says that when Dona Rodriguez left her own room to go +to Don Quixote's, another duenna who slept with her observed her, and as +all duennas are fond of prying, listening, and sniffing, she followed her +so silently that the good Rodriguez never perceived it; and as soon as +the duenna saw her enter Don Quixote's room, not to fail in a duenna's +invariable practice of tattling, she hurried off that instant to report +to the duchess how Dona Rodriguez was closeted with Don Quixote. The +duchess told the duke, and asked him to let her and Altisidora go and see +what the said duenna wanted with Don Quixote. The duke gave them leave, +and the pair cautiously and quietly crept to the door of the room and +posted themselves so close to it that they could hear all that was said +inside. But when the duchess heard how the Rodriguez had made public the +Aranjuez of her issues she could not restrain herself, nor Altisidora +either; and so, filled with rage and thirsting for vengeance, they burst +into the room and tormented Don Quixote and flogged the duenna in the +manner already described; for indignities offered to their charms and +self-esteem mightily provoke the anger of women and make them eager for +revenge. The duchess told the duke what had happened, and he was much +amused by it; and she, in pursuance of her design of making merry and +diverting herself with Don Quixote, despatched the page who had played +the part of Dulcinea in the negotiations for her disenchantment (which +Sancho Panza in the cares of government had forgotten all about) to +Teresa Panza his wife with her husband's letter and another from herself, +and also a great string of fine coral beads as a present. + +Now the history says this page was very sharp and quick-witted; and eager +to serve his lord and lady he set off very willingly for Sancho's +village. Before he entered it he observed a number of women washing in a +brook, and asked them if they could tell him whether there lived there a +woman of the name of Teresa Panza, wife of one Sancho Panza, squire to a +knight called Don Quixote of La Mancha. At the question a young girl who +was washing stood up and said, "Teresa Panza is my mother, and that +Sancho is my father, and that knight is our master." + +"Well then, miss," said the page, "come and show me where your mother is, +for I bring her a letter and a present from your father." + +"That I will with all my heart, senor," said the girl, who seemed to be +about fourteen, more or less; and leaving the clothes she was washing to +one of her companions, and without putting anything on her head or feet, +for she was bare-legged and had her hair hanging about her, away she +skipped in front of the page's horse, saying, "Come, your worship, our +house is at the entrance of the town, and my mother is there, sorrowful +enough at not having had any news of my father this ever so long." + +"Well," said the page, "I am bringing her such good news that she will +have reason to thank God." + +And then, skipping, running, and capering, the girl reached the town, but +before going into the house she called out at the door, "Come out, mother +Teresa, come out, come out; here's a gentleman with letters and other +things from my good father." At these words her mother Teresa Panza came +out spinning a bundle of flax, in a grey petticoat (so short was it one +would have fancied "they to her shame had cut it short"), a grey bodice +of the same stuff, and a smock. She was not very old, though plainly past +forty, strong, healthy, vigorous, and sun-dried; and seeing her daughter +and the page on horseback, she exclaimed, "What's this, child? What +gentleman is this?" + +"A servant of my lady, Dona Teresa Panza," replied the page; and suiting +the action to the word he flung himself off his horse, and with great +humility advanced to kneel before the lady Teresa, saying, "Let me kiss +your hand, Senora Dona Teresa, as the lawful and only wife of Senor Don +Sancho Panza, rightful governor of the island of Barataria." + +"Ah, senor, get up, do that," said Teresa; "for I'm not a bit of a court +lady, but only a poor country woman, the daughter of a clodcrusher, and +the wife of a squire-errant and not of any governor at all." + +"You are," said the page, "the most worthy wife of a most arch-worthy +governor; and as a proof of what I say accept this letter and this +present;" and at the same time he took out of his pocket a string of +coral beads with gold clasps, and placed it on her neck, and said, "This +letter is from his lordship the governor, and the other as well as these +coral beads from my lady the duchess, who sends me to your worship." + +Teresa stood lost in astonishment, and her daughter just as much, and the +girl said, "May I die but our master Don Quixote's at the bottom of this; +he must have given father the government or county he so often promised +him." + +"That is the truth," said the page; "for it is through Senor Don Quixote +that Senor Sancho is now governor of the island of Barataria, as will be +seen by this letter." + +"Will your worship read it to me, noble sir?" said Teresa; "for though I +can spin I can't read, not a scrap." + +"Nor I either," said Sanchica; "but wait a bit, and I'll go and fetch +some one who can read it, either the curate himself or the bachelor +Samson Carrasco, and they'll come gladly to hear any news of my father." + +"There is no need to fetch anybody," said the page; "for though I can't +spin I can read, and I'll read it;" and so he read it through, but as it +has been already given it is not inserted here; and then he took out the +other one from the duchess, which ran as follows: + +Friend Teresa,--Your husband Sancho's good qualities, of heart as well as +of head, induced and compelled me to request my husband the duke to give +him the government of one of his many islands. I am told he governs like +a gerfalcon, of which I am very glad, and my lord the duke, of course, +also; and I am very thankful to heaven that I have not made a mistake in +choosing him for that same government; for I would have Senora Teresa +know that a good governor is hard to find in this world and may God make +me as good as Sancho's way of governing. Herewith I send you, my dear, a +string of coral beads with gold clasps; I wish they were Oriental pearls; +but "he who gives thee a bone does not wish to see thee dead;" a time +will come when we shall become acquainted and meet one another, but God +knows the future. Commend me to your daughter Sanchica, and tell her from +me to hold herself in readiness, for I mean to make a high match for her +when she least expects it. They tell me there are big acorns in your +village; send me a couple of dozen or so, and I shall value them greatly +as coming from your hand; and write to me at length to assure me of your +health and well-being; and if there be anything you stand in need of, it +is but to open your mouth, and that shall be the measure; and so God keep +you. + +From this place. Your loving friend, THE DUCHESS. + +"Ah, what a good, plain, lowly lady!" said Teresa when she heard the +letter; "that I may be buried with ladies of that sort, and not the +gentlewomen we have in this town, that fancy because they are gentlewomen +the wind must not touch them, and go to church with as much airs as if +they were queens, no less, and seem to think they are disgraced if they +look at a farmer's wife! And see here how this good lady, for all she's a +duchess, calls me 'friend,' and treats me as if I was her equal--and +equal may I see her with the tallest church-tower in La Mancha! And as +for the acorns, senor, I'll send her ladyship a peck and such big ones +that one might come to see them as a show and a wonder. And now, +Sanchica, see that the gentleman is comfortable; put up his horse, and +get some eggs out of the stable, and cut plenty of bacon, and let's give +him his dinner like a prince; for the good news he has brought, and his +own bonny face deserve it all; and meanwhile I'll run out and give the +neighbours the news of our good luck, and father curate, and Master +Nicholas the barber, who are and always have been such friends of thy +father's." + +"That I will, mother," said Sanchica; "but mind, you must give me half of +that string; for I don't think my lady the duchess could have been so +stupid as to send it all to you." + +"It is all for thee, my child," said Teresa; "but let me wear it round my +neck for a few days; for verily it seems to make my heart glad." + +"You will be glad too," said the page, "when you see the bundle there is +in this portmanteau, for it is a suit of the finest cloth, that the +governor only wore one day out hunting and now sends, all for Senora +Sanchica." + +"May he live a thousand years," said Sanchica, "and the bearer as many, +nay two thousand, if needful." + +With this Teresa hurried out of the house with the letters, and with the +string of beads round her neck, and went along thrumming the letters as +if they were a tambourine, and by chance coming across the curate and +Samson Carrasco she began capering and saying, "None of us poor now, +faith! We've got a little government! Ay, let the finest fine lady tackle +me, and I'll give her a setting down!" + +"What's all this, Teresa Panza," said they; "what madness is this, and +what papers are those?" + +"The madness is only this," said she, "that these are the letters of +duchesses and governors, and these I have on my neck are fine coral +beads, with ave-marias and paternosters of beaten gold, and I am a +governess." + +"God help us," said the curate, "we don't understand you, Teresa, or know +what you are talking about." + +"There, you may see it yourselves," said Teresa, and she handed them the +letters. + +The curate read them out for Samson Carrasco to hear, and Samson and he +regarded one another with looks of astonishment at what they had read, +and the bachelor asked who had brought the letters. Teresa in reply bade +them come with her to her house and they would see the messenger, a most +elegant youth, who had brought another present which was worth as much +more. The curate took the coral beads from her neck and examined them +again and again, and having satisfied himself as to their fineness he +fell to wondering afresh, and said, "By the gown I wear I don't know what +to say or think of these letters and presents; on the one hand I can see +and feel the fineness of these coral beads, and on the other I read how a +duchess sends to beg for a couple of dozen of acorns." + +"Square that if you can," said Carrasco; "well, let's go and see the +messenger, and from him we'll learn something about this mystery that has +turned up." + +They did so, and Teresa returned with them. They found the page sifting a +little barley for his horse, and Sanchica cutting a rasher of bacon to be +paved with eggs for his dinner. His looks and his handsome apparel +pleased them both greatly; and after they had saluted him courteously, +and he them, Samson begged him to give them his news, as well of Don +Quixote as of Sancho Panza, for, he said, though they had read the +letters from Sancho and her ladyship the duchess, they were still puzzled +and could not make out what was meant by Sancho's government, and above +all of an island, when all or most of those in the Mediterranean belonged +to his Majesty. + +To this the page replied, "As to Senor Sancho Panza's being a governor +there is no doubt whatever; but whether it is an island or not that he +governs, with that I have nothing to do; suffice it that it is a town of +more than a thousand inhabitants; with regard to the acorns I may tell +you my lady the duchess is so unpretending and unassuming that, not to +speak of sending to beg for acorns from a peasant woman, she has been +known to send to ask for the loan of a comb from one of her neighbours; +for I would have your worships know that the ladies of Aragon, though +they are just as illustrious, are not so punctilious and haughty as the +Castilian ladies; they treat people with greater familiarity." + +In the middle of this conversation Sanchica came in with her skirt full +of eggs, and said she to the page, "Tell me, senor, does my father wear +trunk-hose since he has been governor?" + +"I have not noticed," said the page; "but no doubt he wears them." + +"Ah! my God!" said Sanchica, "what a sight it must be to see my father in +tights! Isn't it odd that ever since I was born I have had a longing to +see my father in trunk-hose?" + +"As things go you will see that if you live," said the page; "by God he +is in the way to take the road with a sunshade if the government only +lasts him two months more." + +The curate and the bachelor could see plainly enough that the page spoke +in a waggish vein; but the fineness of the coral beads, and the hunting +suit that Sancho sent (for Teresa had already shown it to them) did away +with the impression; and they could not help laughing at Sanchica's wish, +and still more when Teresa said, "Senor curate, look about if there's +anybody here going to Madrid or Toledo, to buy me a hooped petticoat, a +proper fashionable one of the best quality; for indeed and indeed I must +do honour to my husband's government as well as I can; nay, if I am put +to it and have to, I'll go to Court and set a coach like all the world; +for she who has a governor for her husband may very well have one and +keep one." + +"And why not, mother!" said Sanchica; "would to God it were to-day +instead of to-morrow, even though they were to say when they saw me +seated in the coach with my mother, 'See that rubbish, that +garlic-stuffed fellow's daughter, how she goes stretched at her ease in a +coach as if she was a she-pope!' But let them tramp through the mud, and +let me go in my coach with my feet off the ground. Bad luck to backbiters +all over the world; 'let me go warm and the people may laugh.' Do I say +right, mother?" + +"To be sure you do, my child," said Teresa; "and all this good luck, and +even more, my good Sancho foretold me; and thou wilt see, my daughter, he +won't stop till he has made me a countess; for to make a beginning is +everything in luck; and as I have heard thy good father say many a time +(for besides being thy father he's the father of proverbs too), 'When +they offer thee a heifer, run with a halter; when they offer thee a +government, take it; when they would give thee a county, seize it; when +they say, "Here, here!" to thee with something good, swallow it.' Oh no! +go to sleep, and don't answer the strokes of good fortune and the lucky +chances that are knocking at the door of your house!" + +"And what do I care," added Sanchica, "whether anybody says when he sees +me holding my head up, 'The dog saw himself in hempen breeches,' and the +rest of it?" + +Hearing this the curate said, "I do believe that all this family of the +Panzas are born with a sackful of proverbs in their insides, every one of +them; I never saw one of them that does not pour them out at all times +and on all occasions." + +"That is true," said the page, "for Senor Governor Sancho utters them at +every turn; and though a great many of them are not to the purpose, still +they amuse one, and my lady the duchess and the duke praise them highly." + +"Then you still maintain that all this about Sancho's government is true, +senor," said the bachelor, "and that there actually is a duchess who +sends him presents and writes to him? Because we, although we have +handled the present and read the letters, don't believe it and suspect it +to be something in the line of our fellow-townsman Don Quixote, who +fancies that everything is done by enchantment; and for this reason I am +almost ready to say that I'd like to touch and feel your worship to see +whether you are a mere ambassador of the imagination or a man of flesh +and blood." + +"All I know, sirs," replied the page, "is that I am a real ambassador, +and that Senor Sancho Panza is governor as a matter of fact, and that my +lord and lady the duke and duchess can give, and have given him this same +government, and that I have heard the said Sancho Panza bears himself +very stoutly therein; whether there be any enchantment in all this or +not, it is for your worships to settle between you; for that's all I know +by the oath I swear, and that is by the life of my parents whom I have +still alive, and love dearly." + +"It may be so," said the bachelor; "but dubitat Augustinus." + +"Doubt who will," said the page; "what I have told you is the truth, and +that will always rise above falsehood as oil above water; if not operibus +credite, et non verbis. Let one of you come with me, and he will see with +his eyes what he does not believe with his ears." + +"It's for me to make that trip," said Sanchica; "take me with you, senor, +behind you on your horse; for I'll go with all my heart to see my +father." + +"Governors' daughters," said the page, "must not travel along the roads +alone, but accompanied by coaches and litters and a great number of +attendants." + +"By God," said Sanchica, "I can go just as well mounted on a she-ass as +in a coach; what a dainty lass you must take me for!" + +"Hush, girl," said Teresa; "you don't know what you're talking about; the +gentleman is quite right, for 'as the time so the behaviour;' when it was +Sancho it was 'Sancha;' when it is governor it's 'senora;' I don't know +if I'm right." + +"Senora Teresa says more than she is aware of," said the page; "and now +give me something to eat and let me go at once, for I mean to return this +evening." + +"Come and do penance with me," said the curate at this; "for Senora +Teresa has more will than means to serve so worthy a guest." + +The page refused, but had to consent at last for his own sake; and the +curate took him home with him very gladly, in order to have an +opportunity of questioning him at leisure about Don Quixote and his +doings. The bachelor offered to write the letters in reply for Teresa; +but she did not care to let him mix himself up in her affairs, for she +thought him somewhat given to joking; and so she gave a cake and a couple +of eggs to a young acolyte who was a penman, and he wrote for her two +letters, one for her husband and the other for the duchess, dictated out +of her own head, which are not the worst inserted in this great history, +as will be seen farther on. + +Chapter LI. - +Of the progress of Sancho's government, and other such entertaining +matters + +Day came after the night of the governor's round; a night which the +head-carver passed without sleeping, so were his thoughts of the face and +air and beauty of the disguised damsel, while the majordomo spent what +was left of it in writing an account to his lord and lady of all Sancho +said and did, being as much amazed at his sayings as at his doings, for +there was a mixture of shrewdness and simplicity in all his words and +deeds. The senor governor got up, and by Doctor Pedro Recio's directions +they made him break his fast on a little conserve and four sups of cold +water, which Sancho would have readily exchanged for a piece of bread and +a bunch of grapes; but seeing there was no help for it, he submitted with +no little sorrow of heart and discomfort of stomach; Pedro Recio having +persuaded him that light and delicate diet enlivened the wits, and that +was what was most essential for persons placed in command and in +responsible situations, where they have to employ not only the bodily +powers but those of the mind also. + +By means of this sophistry Sancho was made to endure hunger, and hunger +so keen that in his heart he cursed the government, and even him who had +given it to him; however, with his hunger and his conserve he undertook +to deliver judgments that day, and the first thing that came before him +was a question that was submitted to him by a stranger, in the presence +of the majordomo and the other attendants, and it was in these words: +"Senor, a large river separated two districts of one and the same +lordship--will your worship please to pay attention, for the case is an +important and a rather knotty one? Well then, on this river there was a +bridge, and at one end of it a gallows, and a sort of tribunal, where +four judges commonly sat to administer the law which the lord of river, +bridge and the lordship had enacted, and which was to this effect, 'If +anyone crosses by this bridge from one side to the other he shall declare +on oath where he is going to and with what object; and if he swears +truly, he shall be allowed to pass, but if falsely, he shall be put to +death for it by hanging on the gallows erected there, without any +remission.' Though the law and its severe penalty were known, many +persons crossed, but in their declarations it was easy to see at once +they were telling the truth, and the judges let them pass free. It +happened, however, that one man, when they came to take his declaration, +swore and said that by the oath he took he was going to die upon that +gallows that stood there, and nothing else. The judges held a +consultation over the oath, and they said, 'If we let this man pass free +he has sworn falsely, and by the law he ought to die; but if we hang him, +as he swore he was going to die on that gallows, and therefore swore the +truth, by the same law he ought to go free.' It is asked of your worship, +senor governor, what are the judges to do with this man? For they are +still in doubt and perplexity; and having heard of your worship's acute +and exalted intellect, they have sent me to entreat your worship on their +behalf to give your opinion on this very intricate and puzzling case." + +To this Sancho made answer, "Indeed those gentlemen the judges that send +you to me might have spared themselves the trouble, for I have more of +the obtuse than the acute in me; but repeat the case over again, so that +I may understand it, and then perhaps I may be able to hit the point." + +The querist repeated again and again what he had said before, and then +Sancho said, "It seems to me I can set the matter right in a moment, and +in this way; the man swears that he is going to die upon the gallows; but +if he dies upon it, he has sworn the truth, and by the law enacted +deserves to go free and pass over the bridge; but if they don't hang him, +then he has sworn falsely, and by the same law deserves to be hanged." + +"It is as the senor governor says," said the messenger; "and as regards a +complete comprehension of the case, there is nothing left to desire or +hesitate about." + +"Well then I say," said Sancho, "that of this man they should let pass +the part that has sworn truly, and hang the part that has lied; and in +this way the conditions of the passage will be fully complied with." + +"But then, senor governor," replied the querist, "the man will have to be +divided into two parts; and if he is divided of course he will die; and +so none of the requirements of the law will be carried out, and it is +absolutely necessary to comply with it." + +"Look here, my good sir," said Sancho; "either I'm a numskull or else +there is the same reason for this passenger dying as for his living and +passing over the bridge; for if the truth saves him the falsehood equally +condemns him; and that being the case it is my opinion you should say to +the gentlemen who sent you to me that as the arguments for condemning him +and for absolving him are exactly balanced, they should let him pass +freely, as it is always more praiseworthy to do good than to do evil; +this I would give signed with my name if I knew how to sign; and what I +have said in this case is not out of my own head, but one of the many +precepts my master Don Quixote gave me the night before I left to become +governor of this island, that came into my mind, and it was this, that +when there was any doubt about the justice of a case I should lean to +mercy; and it is God's will that I should recollect it now, for it fits +this case as if it was made for it." + +"That is true," said the majordomo; "and I maintain that Lycurgus +himself, who gave laws to the Lacedemonians, could not have pronounced a +better decision than the great Panza has given; let the morning's +audience close with this, and I will see that the senor governor has +dinner entirely to his liking." + +"That's all I ask for--fair play," said Sancho; "give me my dinner, and +then let it rain cases and questions on me, and I'll despatch them in a +twinkling." + +The majordomo kept his word, for he felt it against his conscience to +kill so wise a governor by hunger; particularly as he intended to have +done with him that same night, playing off the last joke he was +commissioned to practise upon him. + +It came to pass, then, that after he had dined that day, in opposition to +the rules and aphorisms of Doctor Tirteafuera, as they were taking away +the cloth there came a courier with a letter from Don Quixote for the +governor. Sancho ordered the secretary to read it to himself, and if +there was nothing in it that demanded secrecy to read it aloud. The +secretary did so, and after he had skimmed the contents he said, "It may +well be read aloud, for what Senor Don Quixote writes to your worship +deserves to be printed or written in letters of gold, and it is as +follows." + +DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA'S LETTER TO SANCHO PANZA, GOVERNOR OF THE ISLAND +OF BARATARIA. + +When I was expecting to hear of thy stupidities and blunders, friend +Sancho, I have received intelligence of thy displays of good sense, for +which I give special thanks to heaven that can raise the poor from the +dunghill and of fools to make wise men. They tell me thou dost govern as +if thou wert a man, and art a man as if thou wert a beast, so great is +the humility wherewith thou dost comport thyself. But I would have thee +bear in mind, Sancho, that very often it is fitting and necessary for the +authority of office to resist the humility of the heart; for the seemly +array of one who is invested with grave duties should be such as they +require and not measured by what his own humble tastes may lead him to +prefer. Dress well; a stick dressed up does not look like a stick; I do +not say thou shouldst wear trinkets or fine raiment, or that being a +judge thou shouldst dress like a soldier, but that thou shouldst array +thyself in the apparel thy office requires, and that at the same time it +be neat and handsome. To win the good-will of the people thou governest +there are two things, among others, that thou must do; one is to be civil +to all (this, however, I told thee before), and the other to take care +that food be abundant, for there is nothing that vexes the heart of the +poor more than hunger and high prices. Make not many proclamations; but +those thou makest take care that they be good ones, and above all that +they be observed and carried out; for proclamations that are not observed +are the same as if they did not exist; nay, they encourage the idea that +the prince who had the wisdom and authority to make them had not the +power to enforce them; and laws that threaten and are not enforced come +to be like the log, the king of the frogs, that frightened them at first, +but that in time they despised and mounted upon. Be a father to virtue +and a stepfather to vice. Be not always strict, nor yet always lenient, +but observe a mean between these two extremes, for in that is the aim of +wisdom. Visit the gaols, the slaughter-houses, and the market-places; for +the presence of the governor is of great importance in such places; it +comforts the prisoners who are in hopes of a speedy release, it is the +bugbear of the butchers who have then to give just weight, and it is the +terror of the market-women for the same reason. Let it not be seen that +thou art (even if perchance thou art, which I do not believe) covetous, a +follower of women, or a glutton; for when the people and those that have +dealings with thee become aware of thy special weakness they will bring +their batteries to bear upon thee in that quarter, till they have brought +thee down to the depths of perdition. Consider and reconsider, con and +con over again the advices and the instructions I gave thee before thy +departure hence to thy government, and thou wilt see that in them, if +thou dost follow them, thou hast a help at hand that will lighten for +thee the troubles and difficulties that beset governors at every step. +Write to thy lord and lady and show thyself grateful to them, for +ingratitude is the daughter of pride, and one of the greatest sins we +know of; and he who is grateful to those who have been good to him shows +that he will be so to God also who has bestowed and still bestows so many +blessings upon him. + +My lady the duchess sent off a messenger with thy suit and another +present to thy wife Teresa Panza; we expect the answer every moment. I +have been a little indisposed through a certain scratching I came in for, +not very much to the benefit of my nose; but it was nothing; for if there +are enchanters who maltreat me, there are also some who defend me. Let me +know if the majordomo who is with thee had any share in the Trifaldi +performance, as thou didst suspect; and keep me informed of everything +that happens thee, as the distance is so short; all the more as I am +thinking of giving over very shortly this idle life I am now leading, for +I was not born for it. A thing has occurred to me which I am inclined to +think will put me out of favour with the duke and duchess; but though I +am sorry for it I do not care, for after all I must obey my calling +rather than their pleasure, in accordance with the common saying, amicus +Plato, sed magis amica veritas. I quote this Latin to thee because I +conclude that since thou hast been a governor thou wilt have learned it. +Adieu; God keep thee from being an object of pity to anyone. + +Thy friend, DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA. + +Sancho listened to the letter with great attention, and it was praised +and considered wise by all who heard it; he then rose up from table, and +calling his secretary shut himself in with him in his own room, and +without putting it off any longer set about answering his master Don +Quixote at once; and he bade the secretary write down what he told him +without adding or suppressing anything, which he did, and the answer was +to the following effect. + +SANCHO PANZA'S LETTER TO DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA. + +The pressure of business is so great upon me that I have no time to +scratch my head or even to cut my nails; and I have them so long-God send +a remedy for it. I say this, master of my soul, that you may not be +surprised if I have not until now sent you word of how I fare, well or +ill, in this government, in which I am suffering more hunger than when we +two were wandering through the woods and wastes. + +My lord the duke wrote to me the other day to warn me that certain spies +had got into this island to kill me; but up to the present I have not +found out any except a certain doctor who receives a salary in this town +for killing all the governors that come here; he is called Doctor Pedro +Recio, and is from Tirteafuera; so you see what a name he has to make me +dread dying under his hands. This doctor says of himself that he does not +cure diseases when there are any, but prevents them coming, and the +medicines he uses are diet and more diet until he brings one down to bare +bones; as if leanness was not worse than fever. + +In short he is killing me with hunger, and I am dying myself of vexation; +for when I thought I was coming to this government to get my meat hot and +my drink cool, and take my ease between holland sheets on feather beds, I +find I have come to do penance as if I was a hermit; and as I don't do it +willingly I suspect that in the end the devil will carry me off. + +So far I have not handled any dues or taken any bribes, and I don't know +what to think of it; for here they tell me that the governors that come +to this island, before entering it have plenty of money either given to +them or lent to them by the people of the town, and that this is the +usual custom not only here but with all who enter upon governments. + +Last night going the rounds I came upon a fair damsel in man's clothes, +and a brother of hers dressed as a woman; my head-carver has fallen in +love with the girl, and has in his own mind chosen her for a wife, so he +says, and I have chosen youth for a son-in-law; to-day we are going to +explain our intentions to the father of the pair, who is one Diego de la +Llana, a gentleman and an old Christian as much as you please. + +I have visited the market-places, as your worship advises me, and +yesterday I found a stall-keeper selling new hazel nuts and proved her to +have mixed a bushel of old empty rotten nuts with a bushel of new; I +confiscated the whole for the children of the charity-school, who will +know how to distinguish them well enough, and I sentenced her not to come +into the market-place for a fortnight; they told me I did bravely. I can +tell your worship it is commonly said in this town that there are no +people worse than the market-women, for they are all barefaced, +unconscionable, and impudent, and I can well believe it from what I have +seen of them in other towns. + +I am very glad my lady the duchess has written to my wife Teresa Panza +and sent her the present your worship speaks of; and I will strive to +show myself grateful when the time comes; kiss her hands for me, and tell +her I say she has not thrown it into a sack with a hole in it, as she +will see in the end. I should not like your worship to have any +difference with my lord and lady; for if you fall out with them it is +plain it must do me harm; and as you give me advice to be grateful it +will not do for your worship not to be so yourself to those who have +shown you such kindness, and by whom you have been treated so hospitably +in their castle. + +That about the scratching I don't understand; but I suppose it must be +one of the ill-turns the wicked enchanters are always doing your worship; +when we meet I shall know all about it. I wish I could send your worship +something; but I don't know what to send, unless it be some very curious +clyster pipes, to work with bladders, that they make in this island; but +if the office remains with me I'll find out something to send, one way or +another. If my wife Teresa Panza writes to me, pay the postage and send +me the letter, for I have a very great desire to hear how my house and +wife and children are going on. And so, may God deliver your worship from +evil-minded enchanters, and bring me well and peacefully out of this +government, which I doubt, for I expect to take leave of it and my life +together, from the way Doctor Pedro Recio treats me. + +Your worship's servant + +SANCHO PANZA THE GOVERNOR. + +The secretary sealed the letter, and immediately dismissed the courier; +and those who were carrying on the joke against Sancho putting their +heads together arranged how he was to be dismissed from the government. +Sancho spent the afternoon in drawing up certain ordinances relating to +the good government of what he fancied the island; and he ordained that +there were to be no provision hucksters in the State, and that men might +import wine into it from any place they pleased, provided they declared +the quarter it came from, so that a price might be put upon it according +to its quality, reputation, and the estimation it was held in; and he +that watered his wine, or changed the name, was to forfeit his life for +it. He reduced the prices of all manner of shoes, boots, and stockings, +but of shoes in particular, as they seemed to him to run extravagantly +high. He established a fixed rate for servants' wages, which were +becoming recklessly exorbitant. He laid extremely heavy penalties upon +those who sang lewd or loose songs either by day or night. He decreed +that no blind man should sing of any miracle in verse, unless he could +produce authentic evidence that it was true, for it was his opinion that +most of those the blind men sing are trumped up, to the detriment of the +true ones. He established and created an alguacil of the poor, not to +harass them, but to examine them and see whether they really were so; for +many a sturdy thief or drunkard goes about under cover of a make-believe +crippled limb or a sham sore. In a word, he made so many good rules that +to this day they are preserved there, and are called The constitutions of +the great governor Sancho Panza. + +Chapter LII. - +Wherein is related the adventure of the second distressed or afflicted +Duenna, otherwise called Dona Rodriguez + +Cide Hamete relates that Don Quixote being now cured of his scratches +felt that the life he was leading in the castle was entirely inconsistent +with the order of chivalry he professed, so he determined to ask the duke +and duchess to permit him to take his departure for Saragossa, as the +time of the festival was now drawing near, and he hoped to win there the +suit of armour which is the prize at festivals of the sort. But one day +at table with the duke and duchess, just as he was about to carry his +resolution into effect and ask for their permission, lo and behold +suddenly there came in through the door of the great hall two women, as +they afterwards proved to be, draped in mourning from head to foot, one +of whom approaching Don Quixote flung herself at full length at his feet, +pressing her lips to them, and uttering moans so sad, so deep, and so +doleful that she put all who heard and saw her into a state of +perplexity; and though the duke and duchess supposed it must be some joke +their servants were playing off upon Don Quixote, still the earnest way +the woman sighed and moaned and wept puzzled them and made them feel +uncertain, until Don Quixote, touched with compassion, raised her up and +made her unveil herself and remove the mantle from her tearful face. She +complied and disclosed what no one could have ever anticipated, for she +disclosed the countenance of Dona Rodriguez, the duenna of the house; the +other female in mourning being her daughter, who had been made a fool of +by the rich farmer's son. All who knew her were filled with astonishment, +and the duke and duchess more than any; for though they thought her a +simpleton and a weak creature, they did not think her capable of crazy +pranks. Dona Rodriguez, at length, turning to her master and mistress +said to them, "Will your excellences be pleased to permit me to speak to +this gentleman for a moment, for it is requisite I should do so in order +to get successfully out of the business in which the boldness of an +evil-minded clown has involved me?" + +The duke said that for his part he gave her leave, and that she might +speak with Senor Don Quixote as much as she liked. + +She then, turning to Don Quixote and addressing herself to him said, +"Some days since, valiant knight, I gave you an account of the injustice +and treachery of a wicked farmer to my dearly beloved daughter, the +unhappy damsel here before you, and you promised me to take her part and +right the wrong that has been done her; but now it has come to my hearing +that you are about to depart from this castle in quest of such fair +adventures as God may vouchsafe to you; therefore, before you take the +road, I would that you challenge this froward rustic, and compel him to +marry my daughter in fulfillment of the promise he gave her to become her +husband before he seduced her; for to expect that my lord the duke will +do me justice is to ask pears from the elm tree, for the reason I stated +privately to your worship; and so may our Lord grant you good health and +forsake us not." + +To these words Don Quixote replied very gravely and solemnly, "Worthy +duenna, check your tears, or rather dry them, and spare your sighs, for I +take it upon myself to obtain redress for your daughter, for whom it +would have been better not to have been so ready to believe lovers' +promises, which are for the most part quickly made and very slowly +performed; and so, with my lord the duke's leave, I will at once go in +quest of this inhuman youth, and will find him out and challenge him and +slay him, if so be he refuses to keep his promised word; for the chief +object of my profession is to spare the humble and chastise the proud; I +mean, to help the distressed and destroy the oppressors." + +"There is no necessity," said the duke, "for your worship to take the +trouble of seeking out the rustic of whom this worthy duenna complains, +nor is there any necessity, either, for asking my leave to challenge him; +for I admit him duly challenged, and will take care that he is informed +of the challenge, and accepts it, and comes to answer it in person to +this castle of mine, where I shall afford to both a fair field, observing +all the conditions which are usually and properly observed in such +trials, and observing too justice to both sides, as all princes who offer +a free field to combatants within the limits of their lordships are bound +to do." + +"Then with that assurance and your highness's good leave," said Don +Quixote, "I hereby for this once waive my privilege of gentle blood, and +come down and put myself on a level with the lowly birth of the +wrong-doer, making myself equal with him and enabling him to enter into +combat with me; and so, I challenge and defy him, though absent, on the +plea of his malfeasance in breaking faith with this poor damsel, who was +a maiden and now by his misdeed is none; and say that he shall fulfill +the promise he gave her to become her lawful husband, or else stake his +life upon the question." + +And then plucking off a glove he threw it down in the middle of the hall, +and the duke picked it up, saying, as he had said before, that he +accepted the challenge in the name of his vassal, and fixed six days +thence as the time, the courtyard of the castle as the place, and for +arms the customary ones of knights, lance and shield and full armour, +with all the other accessories, without trickery, guile, or charms of any +sort, and examined and passed by the judges of the field. "But first of +all," he said, "it is requisite that this worthy duenna and unworthy +damsel should place their claim for justice in the hands of Don Quixote; +for otherwise nothing can be done, nor can the said challenge be brought +to a lawful issue." + +"I do so place it," replied the duenna. + +"And I too," added her daughter, all in tears and covered with shame and +confusion. + +This declaration having been made, and the duke having settled in his own +mind what he would do in the matter, the ladies in black withdrew, and +the duchess gave orders that for the future they were not to be treated +as servants of hers, but as lady adventurers who came to her house to +demand justice; so they gave them a room to themselves and waited on them +as they would on strangers, to the consternation of the other +women-servants, who did not know where the folly and imprudence of Dona +Rodriguez and her unlucky daughter would stop. + +And now, to complete the enjoyment of the feast and bring the dinner to a +satisfactory end, lo and behold the page who had carried the letters and +presents to Teresa Panza, the wife of the governor Sancho, entered the +hall; and the duke and duchess were very well pleased to see him, being +anxious to know the result of his journey; but when they asked him the +page said in reply that he could not give it before so many people or in +a few words, and begged their excellences to be pleased to let it wait +for a private opportunity, and in the meantime amuse themselves with +these letters; and taking out the letters he placed them in the duchess's +hand. One bore by way of address, Letter for my lady the Duchess +So-and-so, of I don't know where; and the other To my husband Sancho +Panza, governor of the island of Barataria, whom God prosper longer than +me. The duchess's bread would not bake, as the saying is, until she had +read her letter; and having looked over it herself and seen that it might +be read aloud for the duke and all present to hear, she read out as +follows. + +TERESA PANZA'S LETTER TO THE DUCHESS. + +The letter your highness wrote me, my lady, gave me great pleasure, for +indeed I found it very welcome. The string of coral beads is very fine, +and my husband's hunting suit does not fall short of it. All this village +is very much pleased that your ladyship has made a governor of my good +man Sancho; though nobody will believe it, particularly the curate, and +Master Nicholas the barber, and the bachelor Samson Carrasco; but I don't +care for that, for so long as it is true, as it is, they may all say what +they like; though, to tell the truth, if the coral beads and the suit had +not come I would not have believed it either; for in this village +everybody thinks my husband a numskull, and except for governing a flock +of goats, they cannot fancy what sort of government he can be fit for. +God grant it, and direct him according as he sees his children stand in +need of it. I am resolved with your worship's leave, lady of my soul, to +make the most of this fair day, and go to Court to stretch myself at ease +in a coach, and make all those I have envying me already burst their eyes +out; so I beg your excellence to order my husband to send me a small +trifle of money, and to let it be something to speak of, because one's +expenses are heavy at the Court; for a loaf costs a real, and meat thirty +maravedis a pound, which is beyond everything; and if he does not want me +to go let him tell me in time, for my feet are on the fidgets to be off; +and my friends and neighbours tell me that if my daughter and I make a +figure and a brave show at Court, my husband will come to be known far +more by me than I by him, for of course plenty of people will ask, "Who +are those ladies in that coach?" and some servant of mine will answer, +"The wife and daughter of Sancho Panza, governor of the island of +Barataria;" and in this way Sancho will become known, and I'll be thought +well of, and "to Rome for everything." I am as vexed as vexed can be that +they have gathered no acorns this year in our village; for all that I +send your highness about half a peck that I went to the wood to gather +and pick out one by one myself, and I could find no bigger ones; I wish +they were as big as ostrich eggs. + +Let not your high mightiness forget to write to me; and I will take care +to answer, and let you know how I am, and whatever news there may be in +this place, where I remain, praying our Lord to have your highness in his +keeping and not to forget me. + +Sancha my daughter, and my son, kiss your worship's hands. + +She who would rather see your ladyship than write to you, + +Your servant, + +TERESA PANZA. + +All were greatly amused by Teresa Panza's letter, but particularly the +duke and duchess; and the duchess asked Don Quixote's opinion whether +they might open the letter that had come for the governor, which she +suspected must be very good. Don Quixote said that to gratify them he +would open it, and did so, and found that it ran as follows. + +TERESA PANZA'S LETTER TO HER HUSBAND SANCHO PANZA. + +I got thy letter, Sancho of my soul, and I promise thee and swear as a +Catholic Christian that I was within two fingers' breadth of going mad I +was so happy. I can tell thee, brother, when I came to hear that thou +wert a governor I thought I should have dropped dead with pure joy; and +thou knowest they say sudden joy kills as well as great sorrow; and as +for Sanchica thy daughter, she leaked from sheer happiness. I had before +me the suit thou didst send me, and the coral beads my lady the duchess +sent me round my neck, and the letters in my hands, and there was the +bearer of them standing by, and in spite of all this I verily believed +and thought that what I saw and handled was all a dream; for who could +have thought that a goatherd would come to be a governor of islands? Thou +knowest, my friend, what my mother used to say, that one must live long +to see much; I say it because I expect to see more if I live longer; for +I don't expect to stop until I see thee a farmer of taxes or a collector +of revenue, which are offices where, though the devil carries off those +who make a bad use of them, still they make and handle money. My lady the +duchess will tell thee the desire I have to go to the Court; consider the +matter and let me know thy pleasure; I will try to do honour to thee by +going in a coach. + +Neither the curate, nor the barber, nor the bachelor, nor even the +sacristan, can believe that thou art a governor, and they say the whole +thing is a delusion or an enchantment affair, like everything belonging +to thy master Don Quixote; and Samson says he must go in search of thee +and drive the government out of thy head and the madness out of Don +Quixote's skull; I only laugh, and look at my string of beads, and plan +out the dress I am going to make for our daughter out of thy suit. I sent +some acorns to my lady the duchess; I wish they had been gold. Send me +some strings of pearls if they are in fashion in that island. Here is the +news of the village; La Berrueca has married her daughter to a +good-for-nothing painter, who came here to paint anything that might turn +up. The council gave him an order to paint his Majesty's arms over the +door of the town-hall; he asked two ducats, which they paid him in +advance; he worked for eight days, and at the end of them had nothing +painted, and then said he had no turn for painting such trifling things; +he returned the money, and for all that has married on the pretence of +being a good workman; to be sure he has now laid aside his paint-brush +and taken a spade in hand, and goes to the field like a gentleman. Pedro +Lobo's son has received the first orders and tonsure, with the intention +of becoming a priest. Minguilla, Mingo Silvato's granddaughter, found it +out, and has gone to law with him on the score of having given her +promise of marriage. Evil tongues say she is with child by him, but he +denies it stoutly. There are no olives this year, and there is not a drop +of vinegar to be had in the whole village. A company of soldiers passed +through here; when they left they took away with them three of the girls +of the village; I will not tell thee who they are; perhaps they will come +back, and they will be sure to find those who will take them for wives +with all their blemishes, good or bad. Sanchica is making bonelace; she +earns eight maravedis a day clear, which she puts into a moneybox as a +help towards house furnishing; but now that she is a governor's daughter +thou wilt give her a portion without her working for it. The fountain in +the plaza has run dry. A flash of lightning struck the gibbet, and I wish +they all lit there. I look for an answer to this, and to know thy mind +about my going to the Court; and so, God keep thee longer than me, or as +long, for I would not leave thee in this world without me. + +Thy wife, + +TERESA PANZA. + +The letters were applauded, laughed over, relished, and admired; and +then, as if to put the seal to the business, the courier arrived, +bringing the one Sancho sent to Don Quixote, and this, too, was read out, +and it raised some doubts as to the governor's simplicity. The duchess +withdrew to hear from the page about his adventures in Sancho's village, +which he narrated at full length without leaving a single circumstance +unmentioned. He gave her the acorns, and also a cheese which Teresa had +given him as being particularly good and superior to those of Tronchon. +The duchess received it with greatest delight, in which we will leave +her, to describe the end of the government of the great Sancho Panza, +flower and mirror of all governors of islands. + +Chapter LIII. - +Of the troublous end and termination Sancho Panza's government came to + +To fancy that in this life anything belonging to it will remain for ever +in the same state is an idle fancy; on the contrary, in it everything +seems to go in a circle, I mean round and round. The spring succeeds the +summer, the summer the fall, the fall the autumn, the autumn the winter, +and the winter the spring, and so time rolls with never-ceasing wheel. +Man's life alone, swifter than time, speeds onward to its end without any +hope of renewal, save it be in that other life which is endless and +boundless. Thus saith Cide Hamete the Mahometan philosopher; for there +are many that by the light of nature alone, without the light of faith, +have a comprehension of the fleeting nature and instability of this +present life and the endless duration of that eternal life we hope for; +but our author is here speaking of the rapidity with which Sancho's +government came to an end, melted away, disappeared, vanished as it were +in smoke and shadow. For as he lay in bed on the night of the seventh day +of his government, sated, not with bread and wine, but with delivering +judgments and giving opinions and making laws and proclamations, just as +sleep, in spite of hunger, was beginning to close his eyelids, he heard +such a noise of bell-ringing and shouting that one would have fancied the +whole island was going to the bottom. He sat up in bed and remained +listening intently to try if he could make out what could be the cause of +so great an uproar; not only, however, was he unable to discover what it +was, but as countless drums and trumpets now helped to swell the din of +the bells and shouts, he was more puzzled than ever, and filled with fear +and terror; and getting up he put on a pair of slippers because of the +dampness of the floor, and without throwing a dressing gown or anything +of the kind over him he rushed out of the door of his room, just in time +to see approaching along a corridor a band of more than twenty persons +with lighted torches and naked swords in their hands, all shouting out, +"To arms, to arms, senor governor, to arms! The enemy is in the island in +countless numbers, and we are lost unless your skill and valour come to +our support." + +Keeping up this noise, tumult, and uproar, they came to where Sancho +stood dazed and bewildered by what he saw and heard, and as they +approached one of them called out to him, "Arm at once, your lordship, if +you would not have yourself destroyed and the whole island lost." + +"What have I to do with arming?" said Sancho. "What do I know about arms +or supports? Better leave all that to my master Don Quixote, who will +settle it and make all safe in a trice; for I, sinner that I am, God help +me, don't understand these scuffles." + +"Ah, senor governor," said another, "what slackness of mettle this is! +Arm yourself; here are arms for you, offensive and defensive; come out to +the plaza and be our leader and captain; it falls upon you by right, for +you are our governor." + +"Arm me then, in God's name," said Sancho, and they at once produced two +large shields they had come provided with, and placed them upon him over +his shirt, without letting him put on anything else, one shield in front +and the other behind, and passing his arms through openings they had +made, they bound him tight with ropes, so that there he was walled and +boarded up as straight as a spindle and unable to bend his knees or stir +a single step. In his hand they placed a lance, on which he leant to keep +himself from falling, and as soon as they had him thus fixed they bade +him march forward and lead them on and give them all courage; for with +him for their guide and lamp and morning star, they were sure to bring +their business to a successful issue. + +"How am I to march, unlucky being that I am?" said Sancho, "when I can't +stir my knee-caps, for these boards I have bound so tight to my body +won't let me. What you must do is carry me in your arms, and lay me +across or set me upright in some postern, and I'll hold it either with +this lance or with my body." + +"On, senor governor!" cried another, "it is fear more than the boards +that keeps you from moving; make haste, stir yourself, for there is no +time to lose; the enemy is increasing in numbers, the shouts grow louder, +and the danger is pressing." + +Urged by these exhortations and reproaches the poor governor made an +attempt to advance, but fell to the ground with such a crash that he +fancied he had broken himself all to pieces. There he lay like a tortoise +enclosed in its shell, or a side of bacon between two kneading-troughs, +or a boat bottom up on the beach; nor did the gang of jokers feel any +compassion for him when they saw him down; so far from that, +extinguishing their torches they began to shout afresh and to renew the +calls to arms with such energy, trampling on poor Sancho, and slashing at +him over the shield with their swords in such a way that, if he had not +gathered himself together and made himself small and drawn in his head +between the shields, it would have fared badly with the poor governor, +as, squeezed into that narrow compass, he lay, sweating and sweating +again, and commending himself with all his heart to God to deliver him +from his present peril. Some stumbled over him, others fell upon him, and +one there was who took up a position on top of him for some time, and +from thence as if from a watchtower issued orders to the troops, shouting +out, "Here, our side! Here the enemy is thickest! Hold the breach there! +Shut that gate! Barricade those ladders! Here with your stink-pots of +pitch and resin, and kettles of boiling oil! Block the streets with +feather beds!" In short, in his ardour he mentioned every little thing, +and every implement and engine of war by means of which an assault upon a +city is warded off, while the bruised and battered Sancho, who heard and +suffered all, was saying to himself, "O if it would only please the Lord +to let the island be lost at once, and I could see myself either dead or +out of this torture!" Heaven heard his prayer, and when he least expected +it he heard voices exclaiming, "Victory, victory! The enemy retreats +beaten! Come, senor governor, get up, and come and enjoy the victory, and +divide the spoils that have been won from the foe by the might of that +invincible arm." + +"Lift me up," said the wretched Sancho in a woebegone voice. They helped +him to rise, and as soon as he was on his feet said, "The enemy I have +beaten you may nail to my forehead; I don't want to divide the spoils of +the foe, I only beg and entreat some friend, if I have one, to give me a +sup of wine, for I'm parched with thirst, and wipe me dry, for I'm +turning to water." + +They rubbed him down, fetched him wine and unbound the shields, and he +seated himself upon his bed, and with fear, agitation, and fatigue he +fainted away. Those who had been concerned in the joke were now sorry +they had pushed it so far; however, the anxiety his fainting away had +caused them was relieved by his returning to himself. He asked what +o'clock it was; they told him it was just daybreak. He said no more, and +in silence began to dress himself, while all watched him, waiting to see +what the haste with which he was putting on his clothes meant. + +He got himself dressed at last, and then, slowly, for he was sorely +bruised and could not go fast, he proceeded to the stable, followed by +all who were present, and going up to Dapple embraced him and gave him a +loving kiss on the forehead, and said to him, not without tears in his +eyes, "Come along, comrade and friend and partner of my toils and +sorrows; when I was with you and had no cares to trouble me except +mending your harness and feeding your little carcass, happy were my +hours, my days, and my years; but since I left you, and mounted the +towers of ambition and pride, a thousand miseries, a thousand troubles, +and four thousand anxieties have entered into my soul;" and all the while +he was speaking in this strain he was fixing the pack-saddle on the ass, +without a word from anyone. Then having Dapple saddled, he, with great +pain and difficulty, got up on him, and addressing himself to the +majordomo, the secretary, the head-carver, and Pedro Recio the doctor and +several others who stood by, he said, "Make way, gentlemen, and let me go +back to my old freedom; let me go look for my past life, and raise myself +up from this present death. I was not born to be a governor or protect +islands or cities from the enemies that choose to attack them. Ploughing +and digging, vinedressing and pruning, are more in my way than defending +provinces or kingdoms. 'Saint Peter is very well at Rome; I mean each of +us is best following the trade he was born to. A reaping-hook fits my +hand better than a governor's sceptre; I'd rather have my fill of +gazpacho' than be subject to the misery of a meddling doctor who me with +hunger, and I'd rather lie in summer under the shade of an oak, and in +winter wrap myself in a double sheepskin jacket in freedom, than go to +bed between holland sheets and dress in sables under the restraint of a +government. God be with your worships, and tell my lord the duke that +'naked I was born, naked I find myself, I neither lose nor gain;' I mean +that without a farthing I came into this government, and without a +farthing I go out of it, very different from the way governors commonly +leave other islands. Stand aside and let me go; I have to plaster myself, +for I believe every one of my ribs is crushed, thanks to the enemies that +have been trampling over me to-night." + +"That is unnecessary, senor governor," said Doctor Recio, "for I will +give your worship a draught against falls and bruises that will soon make +you as sound and strong as ever; and as for your diet I promise your +worship to behave better, and let you eat plentifully of whatever you +like." + +"You spoke late," said Sancho. "I'd as soon turn Turk as stay any longer. +Those jokes won't pass a second time. By God I'd as soon remain in this +government, or take another, even if it was offered me between two +plates, as fly to heaven without wings. I am of the breed of the Panzas, +and they are every one of them obstinate, and if they once say 'odds,' +odds it must be, no matter if it is evens, in spite of all the world. +Here in this stable I leave the ant's wings that lifted me up into the +air for the swifts and other birds to eat me, and let's take to level +ground and our feet once more; and if they're not shod in pinked shoes of +cordovan, they won't want for rough sandals of hemp; 'every ewe to her +like,' 'and let no one stretch his leg beyond the length of the sheet;' +and now let me pass, for it's growing late with me." + +To this the majordomo said, "Senor governor, we would let your worship go +with all our hearts, though it sorely grieves us to lose you, for your +wit and Christian conduct naturally make us regret you; but it is well +known that every governor, before he leaves the place where he has been +governing, is bound first of all to render an account. Let your worship +do so for the ten days you have held the government, and then you may go +and the peace of God go with you." + +"No one can demand it of me," said Sancho, "but he whom my lord the duke +shall appoint; I am going to meet him, and to him I will render an exact +one; besides, when I go forth naked as I do, there is no other proof +needed to show that I have governed like an angel." + +"By God the great Sancho is right," said Doctor Recio, "and we should let +him go, for the duke will be beyond measure glad to see him." + +They all agreed to this, and allowed him to go, first offering to bear +him company and furnish him with all he wanted for his own comfort or for +the journey. Sancho said he did not want anything more than a little +barley for Dapple, and half a cheese and half a loaf for himself; for the +distance being so short there was no occasion for any better or bulkier +provant. They all embraced him, and he with tears embraced all of them, +and left them filled with admiration not only at his remarks but at his +firm and sensible resolution. + +Chapter LIV. - +Which deals with matters relating to this history and no other + +The duke and duchess resolved that the challenge Don Quixote had, for the +reason already mentioned, given their vassal, should be proceeded with; +and as the young man was in Flanders, whither he had fled to escape +having Dona Rodriguez for a mother-in-law, they arranged to substitute +for him a Gascon lacquey, named Tosilos, first of all carefully +instructing him in all he had to do. Two days later the duke told Don +Quixote that in four days from that time his opponent would present +himself on the field of battle armed as a knight, and would maintain that +the damsel lied by half a beard, nay a whole beard, if she affirmed that +he had given her a promise of marriage. Don Quixote was greatly pleased +at the news, and promised himself to do wonders in the lists, and +reckoned it rare good fortune that an opportunity should have offered for +letting his noble hosts see what the might of his strong arm was capable +of; and so in high spirits and satisfaction he awaited the expiration of +the four days, which measured by his impatience seemed spinning +themselves out into four hundred ages. Let us leave them to pass as we do +other things, and go and bear Sancho company, as mounted on Dapple, half +glad, half sad, he paced along on his road to join his master, in whose +society he was happier than in being governor of all the islands in the +world. Well then, it so happened that before he had gone a great way from +the island of his government (and whether it was island, city, town, or +village that he governed he never troubled himself to inquire) he saw +coming along the road he was travelling six pilgrims with staves, +foreigners of that sort that beg for alms singing; who as they drew near +arranged themselves in a line and lifting up their voices all together +began to sing in their own language something that Sancho could not with +the exception of one word which sounded plainly "alms," from which he +gathered that it was alms they asked for in their song; and being, as +Cide Hamete says, remarkably charitable, he took out of his alforias the +half loaf and half cheese he had been provided with, and gave them to +them, explaining to them by signs that he had nothing else to give them. +They received them very gladly, but exclaimed, "Geld! Geld!" + +"I don't understand what you want of me, good people," said Sancho. + +On this one of them took a purse out of his bosom and showed it to +Sancho, by which he comprehended they were asking for money, and putting +his thumb to his throat and spreading his hand upwards he gave them to +understand that he had not the sign of a coin about him, and urging +Dapple forward he broke through them. But as he was passing, one of them +who had been examining him very closely rushed towards him, and flinging +his arms round him exclaimed in a loud voice and good Spanish, "God bless +me! What's this I see? Is it possible that I hold in my arms my dear +friend, my good neighbour Sancho Panza? But there's no doubt about it, +for I'm not asleep, nor am I drunk just now." + +Sancho was surprised to hear himself called by his name and find himself +embraced by a foreign pilgrim, and after regarding him steadily without +speaking he was still unable to recognise him; but the pilgrim perceiving +his perplexity cried, "What! and is it possible, Sancho Panza, that thou +dost not know thy neighbour Ricote, the Morisco shopkeeper of thy +village?" + +Sancho upon this looking at him more carefully began to recall his +features, and at last recognised him perfectly, and without getting off +the ass threw his arms round his neck saying, "Who the devil could have +known thee, Ricote, in this mummer's dress thou art in? Tell me, who bas +frenchified thee, and how dost thou dare to return to Spain, where if +they catch thee and recognise thee it will go hard enough with thee?" + +"If thou dost not betray me, Sancho," said the pilgrim, "I am safe; for +in this dress no one will recognise me; but let us turn aside out of the +road into that grove there where my comrades are going to eat and rest, +and thou shalt eat with them there, for they are very good fellows; I'll +have time enough to tell thee then all that has happened me since I left +our village in obedience to his Majesty's edict that threatened such +severities against the unfortunate people of my nation, as thou hast +heard." + +Sancho complied, and Ricote having spoken to the other pilgrims they +withdrew to the grove they saw, turning a considerable distance out of +the road. They threw down their staves, took off their pilgrim's cloaks +and remained in their under-clothing; they were all good-looking young +fellows, except Ricote, who was a man somewhat advanced in years. They +carried alforjas all of them, and all apparently well filled, at least +with things provocative of thirst, such as would summon it from two +leagues off. They stretched themselves on the ground, and making a +tablecloth of the grass they spread upon it bread, salt, knives, walnut, +scraps of cheese, and well-picked ham-bones which if they were past +gnawing were not past sucking. They also put down a black dainty called, +they say, caviar, and made of the eggs of fish, a great thirst-wakener. +Nor was there any lack of olives, dry, it is true, and without any +seasoning, but for all that toothsome and pleasant. But what made the +best show in the field of the banquet was half a dozen botas of wine, for +each of them produced his own from his alforjas; even the good Ricote, +who from a Morisco had transformed himself into a German or Dutchman, +took out his, which in size might have vied with the five others. They +then began to eat with very great relish and very leisurely, making the +most of each morsel--very small ones of everything--they took up on the +point of the knife; and then all at the same moment raised their arms and +botas aloft, the mouths placed in their mouths, and all eyes fixed on +heaven just as if they were taking aim at it; and in this attitude they +remained ever so long, wagging their heads from side to side as if in +acknowledgment of the pleasure they were enjoying while they decanted the +bowels of the bottles into their own stomachs. + +Sancho beheld all, "and nothing gave him pain;" so far from that, acting +on the proverb he knew so well, "when thou art at Rome do as thou seest," +he asked Ricote for his bota and took aim like the rest of them, and with +not less enjoyment. Four times did the botas bear being uplifted, but the +fifth it was all in vain, for they were drier and more sapless than a +rush by that time, which made the jollity that had been kept up so far +begin to flag. + +Every now and then some one of them would grasp Sancho's right hand in +his own saying, "Espanoli y Tudesqui tuto uno: bon compano;" and Sancho +would answer, "Bon compano, jur a Di!" and then go off into a fit of +laughter that lasted an hour, without a thought for the moment of +anything that had befallen him in his government; for cares have very +little sway over us while we are eating and drinking. At length, the wine +having come to an end with them, drowsiness began to come over them, and +they dropped asleep on their very table and tablecloth. Ricote and Sancho +alone remained awake, for they had eaten more and drunk less, and Ricote +drawing Sancho aside, they seated themselves at the foot of a beech, +leaving the pilgrims buried in sweet sleep; and without once falling into +his own Morisco tongue Ricote spoke as follows in pure Castilian: + +"Thou knowest well, neighbour and friend Sancho Panza, how the +proclamation or edict his Majesty commanded to be issued against those of +my nation filled us all with terror and dismay; me at least it did, +insomuch that I think before the time granted us for quitting Spain was +out, the full force of the penalty had already fallen upon me and upon my +children. I decided, then, and I think wisely (just like one who knows +that at a certain date the house he lives in will be taken from him, and +looks out beforehand for another to change into), I decided, I say, to +leave the town myself, alone and without my family, and go to seek out +some place to remove them to comfortably and not in the hurried way in +which the others took their departure; for I saw very plainly, and so did +all the older men among us, that the proclamations were not mere threats, +as some said, but positive enactments which would be enforced at the +appointed time; and what made me believe this was what I knew of the base +and extravagant designs which our people harboured, designs of such a +nature that I think it was a divine inspiration that moved his Majesty to +carry out a resolution so spirited; not that we were all guilty, for some +there were true and steadfast Christians; but they were so few that they +could make no head against those who were not; and it was not prudent to +cherish a viper in the bosom by having enemies in the house. In short it +was with just cause that we were visited with the penalty of banishment, +a mild and lenient one in the eyes of some, but to us the most terrible +that could be inflicted upon us. Wherever we are we weep for Spain; for +after all we were born there and it is our natural fatherland. Nowhere do +we find the reception our unhappy condition needs; and in Barbary and all +the parts of Africa where we counted upon being received, succoured, and +welcomed, it is there they insult and ill-treat us most. We knew not our +good fortune until we lost it; and such is the longing we almost all of +us have to return to Spain, that most of those who like myself know the +language, and there are many who do, come back to it and leave their +wives and children forsaken yonder, so great is their love for it; and +now I know by experience the meaning of the saying, sweet is the love of +one's country. + +"I left our village, as I said, and went to France, but though they gave +us a kind reception there I was anxious to see all I could. I crossed +into Italy, and reached Germany, and there it seemed to me we might live +with more freedom, as the inhabitants do not pay any attention to +trifling points; everyone lives as he likes, for in most parts they enjoy +liberty of conscience. I took a house in a town near Augsburg, and then +joined these pilgrims, who are in the habit of coming to Spain in great +numbers every year to visit the shrines there, which they look upon as +their Indies and a sure and certain source of gain. They travel nearly +all over it, and there is no town out of which they do not go full up of +meat and drink, as the saying is, and with a real, at least, in money, +and they come off at the end of their travels with more than a hundred +crowns saved, which, changed into gold, they smuggle out of the kingdom +either in the hollow of their staves or in the patches of their pilgrim's +cloaks or by some device of their own, and carry to their own country in +spite of the guards at the posts and passes where they are searched. Now +my purpose is, Sancho, to carry away the treasure that I left buried, +which, as it is outside the town, I shall be able to do without risk, and +to write, or cross over from Valencia, to my daughter and wife, who I +know are at Algiers, and find some means of bringing them to some French +port and thence to Germany, there to await what it may be God's will to +do with us; for, after all, Sancho, I know well that Ricota my daughter +and Francisca Ricota my wife are Catholic Christians, and though I am not +so much so, still I am more of a Christian than a Moor, and it is always +my prayer to God that he will open the eyes of my understanding and show +me how I am to serve him; but what amazes me and I cannot understand is +why my wife and daughter should have gone to Barbary rather than to +France, where they could live as Christians." + +To this Sancho replied, "Remember, Ricote, that may not have been open to +them, for Juan Tiopieyo thy wife's brother took them, and being a true +Moor he went where he could go most easily; and another thing I can tell +thee, it is my belief thou art going in vain to look for what thou hast +left buried, for we heard they took from thy brother-in-law and thy wife +a great quantity of pearls and money in gold which they brought to be +passed." + +"That may be," said Ricote; "but I know they did not touch my hoard, for +I did not tell them where it was, for fear of accidents; and so, if thou +wilt come with me, Sancho, and help me to take it away and conceal it, I +will give thee two hundred crowns wherewith thou mayest relieve thy +necessities, and, as thou knowest, I know they are many." + +"I would do it," said Sancho; "but I am not at all covetous, for I gave +up an office this morning in which, if I was, I might have made the walls +of my house of gold and dined off silver plates before six months were +over; and so for this reason, and because I feel I would be guilty of +treason to my king if I helped his enemies, I would not go with thee if +instead of promising me two hundred crowns thou wert to give me four +hundred here in hand." + +"And what office is this thou hast given up, Sancho?" asked Ricote. + +"I have given up being governor of an island," said Sancho, "and such a +one, faith, as you won't find the like of easily." + +"And where is this island?" said Ricote. + +"Where?" said Sancho; "two leagues from here, and it is called the island +of Barataria." + +"Nonsense! Sancho," said Ricote; "islands are away out in the sea; there +are no islands on the mainland." + +"What? No islands!" said Sancho; "I tell thee, friend Ricote, I left it +this morning, and yesterday I was governing there as I pleased like a +sagittarius; but for all that I gave it up, for it seemed to me a +dangerous office, a governor's." + +"And what hast thou gained by the government?" asked Ricote. + +"I have gained," said Sancho, "the knowledge that I am no good for +governing, unless it is a drove of cattle, and that the riches that are +to be got by these governments are got at the cost of one's rest and +sleep, ay and even one's food; for in islands the governors must eat +little, especially if they have doctors to look after their health." + +"I don't understand thee, Sancho," said Ricote; "but it seems to me all +nonsense thou art talking. Who would give thee islands to govern? Is +there any scarcity in the world of cleverer men than thou art for +governors? Hold thy peace, Sancho, and come back to thy senses, and +consider whether thou wilt come with me as I said to help me to take away +treasure I left buried (for indeed it may be called a treasure, it is so +large), and I will give thee wherewithal to keep thee, as I told thee." + +"And I have told thee already, Ricote, that I will not," said Sancho; +"let it content thee that by me thou shalt not be betrayed, and go thy +way in God's name and let me go mine; for I know that well-gotten gain +may be lost, but ill-gotten gain is lost, itself and its owner likewise." + +"I will not press thee, Sancho," said Ricote; "but tell me, wert thou in +our village when my wife and daughter and brother-in-law left it?" + +"I was so," said Sancho; "and I can tell thee thy daughter left it +looking so lovely that all the village turned out to see her, and +everybody said she was the fairest creature in the world. She wept as she +went, and embraced all her friends and acquaintances and those who came +out to see her, and she begged them all to commend her to God and Our +Lady his mother, and this in such a touching way that it made me weep +myself, though I'm not much given to tears commonly; and, faith, many a +one would have liked to hide her, or go out and carry her off on the +road; but the fear of going against the king's command kept them back. +The one who showed himself most moved was Don Pedro Gregorio, the rich +young heir thou knowest of, and they say he was deep in love with her; +and since she left he has not been seen in our village again, and we all +suspect he has gone after her to steal her away, but so far nothing has +been heard of it." + +"I always had a suspicion that gentleman had a passion for my daughter," +said Ricote; "but as I felt sure of my Ricota's virtue it gave me no +uneasiness to know that he loved her; for thou must have heard it said, +Sancho, that the Morisco women seldom or never engage in amours with the +old Christians; and my daughter, who I fancy thought more of being a +Christian than of lovemaking, would not trouble herself about the +attentions of this heir." + +"God grant it," said Sancho, "for it would be a bad business for both of +them; but now let me be off, friend Ricote, for I want to reach where my +master Don Quixote is to-night." + +"God be with thee, brother Sancho," said Ricote; "my comrades are +beginning to stir, and it is time, too, for us to continue our journey;" +and then they both embraced, and Sancho mounted Dapple, and Ricote leant +upon his staff, and so they parted. + +Chapter LV. - +Of what befell Sancho on the road, and other things that cannot be +surpassed + +The length of time he delayed with Ricote prevented Sancho from reaching +the duke's castle that day, though he was within half a league of it when +night, somewhat dark and cloudy, overtook him. This, however, as it was +summer time, did not give him much uneasiness, and he turned aside out of +the road intending to wait for morning; but his ill luck and hard fate so +willed it that as he was searching about for a place to make himself as +comfortable as possible, he and Dapple fell into a deep dark hole that +lay among some very old buildings. As he fell he commended himself with +all his heart to God, fancying he was not going to stop until he reached +the depths of the bottomless pit; but it did not turn out so, for at +little more than thrice a man's height Dapple touched bottom, and he +found himself sitting on him without having received any hurt or damage +whatever. He felt himself all over and held his breath to try whether he +was quite sound or had a hole made in him anywhere, and finding himself +all right and whole and in perfect health he was profuse in his thanks to +God our Lord for the mercy that had been shown him, for he made sure he +had been broken into a thousand pieces. He also felt along the sides of +the pit with his hands to see if it were possible to get out of it +without help, but he found they were quite smooth and afforded no hold +anywhere, at which he was greatly distressed, especially when he heard +how pathetically and dolefully Dapple was bemoaning himself, and no +wonder he complained, nor was it from ill-temper, for in truth he was not +in a very good case. "Alas," said Sancho, "what unexpected accidents +happen at every step to those who live in this miserable world! Who would +have said that one who saw himself yesterday sitting on a throne, +governor of an island, giving orders to his servants and his vassals, +would see himself to-day buried in a pit without a soul to help him, or +servant or vassal to come to his relief? Here must we perish with hunger, +my ass and myself, if indeed we don't die first, he of his bruises and +injuries, and I of grief and sorrow. At any rate I'll not be as lucky as +my master Don Quixote of La Mancha, when he went down into the cave of +that enchanted Montesinos, where he found people to make more of him than +if he had been in his own house; for it seems he came in for a table laid +out and a bed ready made. There he saw fair and pleasant visions, but +here I'll see, I imagine, toads and adders. Unlucky wretch that I am, +what an end my follies and fancies have come to! They'll take up my bones +out of this, when it is heaven's will that I'm found, picked clean, white +and polished, and my good Dapple's with them, and by that, perhaps, it +will be found out who we are, at least by such as have heard that Sancho +Panza never separated from his ass, nor his ass from Sancho Panza. +Unlucky wretches, I say again, that our hard fate should not let us die +in our own country and among our own people, where if there was no help +for our misfortune, at any rate there would be some one to grieve for it +and to close our eyes as we passed away! O comrade and friend, how ill +have I repaid thy faithful services! Forgive me, and entreat Fortune, as +well as thou canst, to deliver us out of this miserable strait we are +both in; and I promise to put a crown of laurel on thy head, and make +thee look like a poet laureate, and give thee double feeds." + +In this strain did Sancho bewail himself, and his ass listened to him, +but answered him never a word, such was the distress and anguish the poor +beast found himself in. At length, after a night spent in bitter moanings +and lamentations, day came, and by its light Sancho perceived that it was +wholly impossible to escape out of that pit without help, and he fell to +bemoaning his fate and uttering loud shouts to find out if there was +anyone within hearing; but all his shouting was only crying in the +wilderness, for there was not a soul anywhere in the neighbourhood to +hear him, and then at last he gave himself up for dead. Dapple was lying +on his back, and Sancho helped him to his feet, which he was scarcely +able to keep; and then taking a piece of bread out of his alforjas which +had shared their fortunes in the fall, he gave it to the ass, to whom it +was not unwelcome, saying to him as if he understood him, "With bread all +sorrows are less." + +And now he perceived on one side of the pit a hole large enough to admit +a person if he stooped and squeezed himself into a small compass. Sancho +made for it, and entered it by creeping, and found it wide and spacious +on the inside, which he was able to see as a ray of sunlight that +penetrated what might be called the roof showed it all plainly. He +observed too that it opened and widened out into another spacious cavity; +seeing which he made his way back to where the ass was, and with a stone +began to pick away the clay from the hole until in a short time he had +made room for the beast to pass easily, and this accomplished, taking him +by the halter, he proceeded to traverse the cavern to see if there was +any outlet at the other end. He advanced, sometimes in the dark, +sometimes without light, but never without fear; "God Almighty help me!" +said he to himself; "this that is a misadventure to me would make a good +adventure for my master Don Quixote. He would have been sure to take +these depths and dungeons for flowery gardens or the palaces of Galiana, +and would have counted upon issuing out of this darkness and imprisonment +into some blooming meadow; but I, unlucky that I am, hopeless and +spiritless, expect at every step another pit deeper than the first to +open under my feet and swallow me up for good; 'welcome evil, if thou +comest alone.'" + +In this way and with these reflections he seemed to himself to have +travelled rather more than half a league, when at last he perceived a dim +light that looked like daylight and found its way in on one side, showing +that this road, which appeared to him the road to the other world, led to +some opening. + +Here Cide Hamete leaves him, and returns to Don Quixote, who in high +spirits and satisfaction was looking forward to the day fixed for the +battle he was to fight with him who had robbed Dona Rodriguez's daughter +of her honour, for whom he hoped to obtain satisfaction for the wrong and +injury shamefully done to her. It came to pass, then, that having sallied +forth one morning to practise and exercise himself in what he would have +to do in the encounter he expected to find himself engaged in the next +day, as he was putting Rocinante through his paces or pressing him to the +charge, he brought his feet so close to a pit that but for reining him in +tightly it would have been impossible for him to avoid falling into it. +He pulled him up, however, without a fall, and coming a little closer +examined the hole without dismounting; but as he was looking at it he +heard loud cries proceeding from it, and by listening attentively was +able to make out that he who uttered them was saying, "Ho, above there! +is there any Christian that hears me, or any charitable gentleman that +will take pity on a sinner buried alive, on an unfortunate disgoverned +governor?" + +It struck Don Quixote that it was the voice of Sancho Panza he heard, +whereat he was taken aback and amazed, and raising his own voice as much +as he could, he cried out, "Who is below there? Who is that complaining?" + +"Who should be here, or who should complain," was the answer, "but the +forlorn Sancho Panza, for his sins and for his ill-luck governor of the +island of Barataria, squire that was to the famous knight Don Quixote of +La Mancha?" + +When Don Quixote heard this his amazement was redoubled and his +perturbation grew greater than ever, for it suggested itself to his mind +that Sancho must be dead, and that his soul was in torment down there; +and carried away by this idea he exclaimed, "I conjure thee by everything +that as a Catholic Christian I can conjure thee by, tell me who thou art; +and if thou art a soul in torment, tell me what thou wouldst have me do +for thee; for as my profession is to give aid and succour to those that +need it in this world, it will also extend to aiding and succouring the +distressed of the other, who cannot help themselves." + +"In that case," answered the voice, "your worship who speaks to me must +be my master Don Quixote of La Mancha; nay, from the tone of the voice it +is plain it can be nobody else." + +"Don Quixote I am," replied Don Quixote, "he whose profession it is to +aid and succour the living and the dead in their necessities; wherefore +tell me who thou art, for thou art keeping me in suspense; because, if +thou art my squire Sancho Panza, and art dead, since the devils have not +carried thee off, and thou art by God's mercy in purgatory, our holy +mother the Roman Catholic Church has intercessory means sufficient to +release thee from the pains thou art in; and I for my part will plead +with her to that end, so far as my substance will go; without further +delay, therefore, declare thyself, and tell me who thou art." + +"By all that's good," was the answer, "and by the birth of whomsoever +your worship chooses, I swear, Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha, that I am +your squire Sancho Panza, and that I have never died all my life; but +that, having given up my government for reasons that would require more +time to explain, I fell last night into this pit where I am now, and +Dapple is witness and won't let me lie, for more by token he is here with +me." + +Nor was this all; one would have fancied the ass understood what Sancho +said, because that moment he began to bray so loudly that the whole cave +rang again. + +"Famous testimony!" exclaimed Don Quixote; "I know that bray as well as +if I was its mother, and thy voice too, my Sancho. Wait while I go to the +duke's castle, which is close by, and I will bring some one to take thee +out of this pit into which thy sins no doubt have brought thee." + +"Go, your worship," said Sancho, "and come back quick for God's sake; for +I cannot bear being buried alive any longer, and I'm dying of fear." + +Don Quixote left him, and hastened to the castle to tell the duke and +duchess what had happened Sancho, and they were not a little astonished +at it; they could easily understand his having fallen, from the +confirmatory circumstance of the cave which had been in existence there +from time immemorial; but they could not imagine how he had quitted the +government without their receiving any intimation of his coming. To be +brief, they fetched ropes and tackle, as the saying is, and by dint of +many hands and much labour they drew up Dapple and Sancho Panza out of +the darkness into the light of day. A student who saw him remarked, +"That's the way all bad governors should come out of their governments, +as this sinner comes out of the depths of the pit, dead with hunger, +pale, and I suppose without a farthing." + +Sancho overheard him and said, "It is eight or ten days, brother growler, +since I entered upon the government of the island they gave me, and all +that time I never had a bellyful of victuals, no not for an hour; doctors +persecuted me and enemies crushed my bones; nor had I any opportunity of +taking bribes or levying taxes; and if that be the case, as it is, I +don't deserve, I think, to come out in this fashion; but 'man proposes +and God disposes;' and God knows what is best, and what suits each one +best; and 'as the occasion, so the behaviour;' and 'let nobody say "I +won't drink of this water;"' and 'where one thinks there are flitches, +there are no pegs;' God knows my meaning and that's enough; I say no +more, though I could." + +"Be not angry or annoyed at what thou hearest, Sancho," said Don Quixote, +"or there will never be an end of it; keep a safe conscience and let them +say what they like; for trying to stop slanderers' tongues is like trying +to put gates to the open plain. If a governor comes out of his government +rich, they say he has been a thief; and if he comes out poor, that he has +been a noodle and a blockhead." + +"They'll be pretty sure this time," said Sancho, "to set me down for a +fool rather than a thief." + +Thus talking, and surrounded by boys and a crowd of people, they reached +the castle, where in one of the corridors the duke and duchess stood +waiting for them; but Sancho would not go up to see the duke until he had +first put up Dapple in the stable, for he said he had passed a very bad +night in his last quarters; then he went upstairs to see his lord and +lady, and kneeling before them he said, "Because it was your highnesses' +pleasure, not because of any desert of my own, I went to govern your +island of Barataria, which 'I entered naked, and naked I find myself; I +neither lose nor gain.' Whether I have governed well or ill, I have had +witnesses who will say what they think fit. I have answered questions, I +have decided causes, and always dying of hunger, for Doctor Pedro Recio +of Tirteafuera, the island and governor doctor, would have it so. Enemies +attacked us by night and put us in a great quandary, but the people of +the island say they came off safe and victorious by the might of my arm; +and may God give them as much health as there's truth in what they say. +In short, during that time I have weighed the cares and responsibilities +governing brings with it, and by my reckoning I find my shoulders can't +bear them, nor are they a load for my loins or arrows for my quiver; and +so, before the government threw me over I preferred to throw the +government over; and yesterday morning I left the island as I found it, +with the same streets, houses, and roofs it had when I entered it. I +asked no loan of anybody, nor did I try to fill my pocket; and though I +meant to make some useful laws, I made hardly any, as I was afraid they +would not be kept; for in that case it comes to the same thing to make +them or not to make them. I quitted the island, as I said, without any +escort except my ass; I fell into a pit, I pushed on through it, until +this morning by the light of the sun I saw an outlet, but not so easy a +one but that, had not heaven sent me my master Don Quixote, I'd have +stayed there till the end of the world. So now my lord and lady duke and +duchess, here is your governor Sancho Panza, who in the bare ten days he +has held the government has come by the knowledge that he would not give +anything to be governor, not to say of an island, but of the whole world; +and that point being settled, kissing your worships' feet, and imitating +the game of the boys when they say, 'leap thou, and give me one,' I take +a leap out of the government and pass into the service of my master Don +Quixote; for after all, though in it I eat my bread in fear and +trembling, at any rate I take my fill; and for my part, so long as I'm +full, it's all alike to me whether it's with carrots or with partridges." + +Here Sancho brought his long speech to an end, Don Quixote having been +the whole time in dread of his uttering a host of absurdities; and when +he found him leave off with so few, he thanked heaven in his heart. The +duke embraced Sancho and told him he was heartily sorry he had given up +the government so soon, but that he would see that he was provided with +some other post on his estate less onerous and more profitable. The +duchess also embraced him, and gave orders that he should be taken good +care of, as it was plain to see he had been badly treated and worse +bruised. + +Chapter LVI. - +Of the prodigious and unparalleled battle that took place between Don +Quixote of la mancha and the Lacquey Tosilos in defence of the daughter +of Dona Rodriguez + +The duke and duchess had no reason to regret the joke that had been +played upon Sancho Panza in giving him the government; especially as +their majordomo returned the same day, and gave them a minute account of +almost every word and deed that Sancho uttered or did during the time; +and to wind up with, eloquently described to them the attack upon the +island and Sancho's fright and departure, with which they were not a +little amused. After this the history goes on to say that the day fixed +for the battle arrived, and that the duke, after having repeatedly +instructed his lacquey Tosilos how to deal with Don Quixote so as to +vanquish him without killing or wounding him, gave orders to have the +heads removed from the lances, telling Don Quixote that Christian +charity, on which he plumed himself, could not suffer the battle to be +fought with so much risk and danger to life; and that he must be content +with the offer of a battlefield on his territory (though that was against +the decree of the holy Council, which prohibits all challenges of the +sort) and not push such an arduous venture to its extreme limits. Don +Quixote bade his excellence arrange all matters connected with the affair +as he pleased, as on his part he would obey him in everything. The dread +day, then, having arrived, and the duke having ordered a spacious stand +to be erected facing the court of the castle for the judges of the field +and the appellant duennas, mother and daughter, vast crowds flocked from +all the villages and hamlets of the neighbourhood to see the novel +spectacle of the battle; nobody, dead or alive, in those parts having +ever seen or heard of such a one. + +The first person to enter the-field and the lists was the master of the +ceremonies, who surveyed and paced the whole ground to see that there was +nothing unfair and nothing concealed to make the combatants stumble or +fall; then the duennas entered and seated themselves, enveloped in +mantles covering their eyes, nay even their bosoms, and displaying no +slight emotion as Don Quixote appeared in the lists. Shortly afterwards, +accompanied by several trumpets and mounted on a powerful steed that +threatened to crush the whole place, the great lacquey Tosilos made his +appearance on one side of the courtyard with his visor down and stiffly +cased in a suit of stout shining armour. The horse was a manifest +Frieslander, broad-backed and flea-bitten, and with half a hundred of +wool hanging to each of his fetlocks. The gallant combatant came well +primed by his master the duke as to how he was to bear himself against +the valiant Don Quixote of La Mancha; being warned that he must on no +account slay him, but strive to shirk the first encounter so as to avoid +the risk of killing him, as he was sure to do if he met him full tilt. He +crossed the courtyard at a walk, and coming to where the duennas were +placed stopped to look at her who demanded him for a husband; the marshal +of the field summoned Don Quixote, who had already presented himself in +the courtyard, and standing by the side of Tosilos he addressed the +duennas, and asked them if they consented that Don Quixote of La Mancha +should do battle for their right. They said they did, and that whatever +he should do in that behalf they declared rightly done, final and valid. +By this time the duke and duchess had taken their places in a gallery +commanding the enclosure, which was filled to overflowing with a +multitude of people eager to see this perilous and unparalleled +encounter. The conditions of the combat were that if Don Quixote proved +the victor his antagonist was to marry the daughter of Dona Rodriguez; +but if he should be vanquished his opponent was released from the promise +that was claimed against him and from all obligations to give +satisfaction. The master of the ceremonies apportioned the sun to them, +and stationed them, each on the spot where he was to stand. The drums +beat, the sound of the trumpets filled the air, the earth trembled under +foot, the hearts of the gazing crowd were full of anxiety, some hoping +for a happy issue, some apprehensive of an untoward ending to the affair, +and lastly, Don Quixote, commending himself with all his heart to God our +Lord and to the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, stood waiting for them to give +the necessary signal for the onset. Our lacquey, however, was thinking of +something very different; he only thought of what I am now going to +mention. + +It seems that as he stood contemplating his enemy she struck him as the +most beautiful woman he had ever seen all his life; and the little blind +boy whom in our streets they commonly call Love had no mind to let slip +the chance of triumphing over a lacquey heart, and adding it to the list +of his trophies; and so, stealing gently upon him unseen, he drove a dart +two yards long into the poor lacquey's left side and pierced his heart +through and through; which he was able to do quite at his ease, for Love +is invisible, and comes in and goes out as he likes, without anyone +calling him to account for what he does. Well then, when they gave the +signal for the onset our lacquey was in an ecstasy, musing upon the +beauty of her whom he had already made mistress of his liberty, and so he +paid no attention to the sound of the trumpet, unlike Don Quixote, who +was off the instant he heard it, and, at the highest speed Rocinante was +capable of, set out to meet his enemy, his good squire Sancho shouting +lustily as he saw him start, "God guide thee, cream and flower of +knights-errant! God give thee the victory, for thou hast the right on thy +side!" But though Tosilos saw Don Quixote coming at him he never stirred +a step from the spot where he was posted; and instead of doing so called +loudly to the marshal of the field, to whom when he came up to see what +he wanted he said, "Senor, is not this battle to decide whether I marry +or do not marry that lady?" "Just so," was the answer. "Well then," said +the lacquey, "I feel qualms of conscience, and I should lay a-heavy +burden upon it if I were to proceed any further with the combat; I +therefore declare that I yield myself vanquished, and that I am willing +to marry the lady at once." + +The marshal of the field was lost in astonishment at the words of +Tosilos; and as he was one of those who were privy to the arrangement of +the affair he knew not what to say in reply. Don Quixote pulled up in mid +career when he saw that his enemy was not coming on to the attack. The +duke could not make out the reason why the battle did not go on; but the +marshal of the field hastened to him to let him know what Tosilos said, +and he was amazed and extremely angry at it. In the meantime Tosilos +advanced to where Dona Rodriguez sat and said in a loud voice, "Senora, I +am willing to marry your daughter, and I have no wish to obtain by strife +and fighting what I can obtain in peace and without any risk to my life." + +The valiant Don Quixote heard him, and said, "As that is the case I am +released and absolved from my promise; let them marry by all means, and +as 'God our Lord has given her, may Saint Peter add his blessing.'" + +The duke had now descended to the courtyard of the castle, and going up +to Tosilos he said to him, "Is it true, sir knight, that you yield +yourself vanquished, and that moved by scruples of conscience you wish to +marry this damsel?" + +"It is, senor," replied Tosilos. + +"And he does well," said Sancho, "for what thou hast to give to the +mouse, give to the cat, and it will save thee all trouble." + +Tosilos meanwhile was trying to unlace his helmet, and he begged them to +come to his help at once, as his power of breathing was failing him, and +he could not remain so long shut up in that confined space. They removed +it in all haste, and his lacquey features were revealed to public gaze. +At this sight Dona Rodriguez and her daughter raised a mighty outcry, +exclaiming, "This is a trick! This is a trick! They have put Tosilos, my +lord the duke's lacquey, upon us in place of the real husband. The +justice of God and the king against such trickery, not to say roguery!" + +"Do not distress yourselves, ladies," said Don Quixote; "for this is no +trickery or roguery; or if it is, it is not the duke who is at the bottom +of it, but those wicked enchanters who persecute me, and who, jealous of +my reaping the glory of this victory, have turned your husband's features +into those of this person, who you say is a lacquey of the duke's; take +my advice, and notwithstanding the malice of my enemies marry him, for +beyond a doubt he is the one you wish for a husband." + +When the duke heard this all his anger was near vanishing in a fit of +laughter, and he said, "The things that happen to Senor Don Quixote are +so extraordinary that I am ready to believe this lacquey of mine is not +one; but let us adopt this plan and device; let us put off the marriage +for, say, a fortnight, and let us keep this person about whom we are +uncertain in close confinement, and perhaps in the course of that time he +may return to his original shape; for the spite which the enchanters +entertain against Senor Don Quixote cannot last so long, especially as it +is of so little advantage to them to practise these deceptions and +transformations." + +"Oh, senor," said Sancho, "those scoundrels are well used to changing +whatever concerns my master from one thing into another. A knight that he +overcame some time back, called the Knight of the Mirrors, they turned +into the shape of the bachelor Samson Carrasco of our town and a great +friend of ours; and my lady Dulcinea del Toboso they have turned into a +common country wench; so I suspect this lacquey will have to live and die +a lacquey all the days of his life." + +Here the Rodriguez's daughter exclaimed, "Let him be who he may, this man +that claims me for a wife; I am thankful to him for the same, for I had +rather be the lawful wife of a lacquey than the cheated mistress of a +gentleman; though he who played me false is nothing of the kind." + +To be brief, all the talk and all that had happened ended in Tosilos +being shut up until it was seen how his transformation turned out. All +hailed Don Quixote as victor, but the greater number were vexed and +disappointed at finding that the combatants they had been so anxiously +waiting for had not battered one another to pieces, just as the boys are +disappointed when the man they are waiting to see hanged does not come +out, because the prosecution or the court has pardoned him. The people +dispersed, the duke and Don Quixote returned to the castle, they locked +up Tosilos, Dona Rodriguez and her daughter remained perfectly contented +when they saw that any way the affair must end in marriage, and Tosilos +wanted nothing else. + +Chapter LVII. - +Which treats of how Don Quixote took leave of the Duke, and of what +followed with the witty and impudent Altisidora, one of the Duchess's +damsels + +Don Quixote now felt it right to quit a life of such idleness as he was +leading in the castle; for he fancied that he was making himself sorely +missed by suffering himself to remain shut up and inactive amid the +countless luxuries and enjoyments his hosts lavished upon him as a +knight, and he felt too that he would have to render a strict account to +heaven of that indolence and seclusion; and so one day he asked the duke +and duchess to grant him permission to take his departure. They gave it, +showing at the same time that they were very sorry he was leaving them. + +The duchess gave his wife's letters to Sancho Panza, who shed tears over +them, saying, "Who would have thought that such grand hopes as the news +of my government bred in my wife Teresa Panza's breast would end in my +going back now to the vagabond adventures of my master Don Quixote of La +Mancha? Still I'm glad to see my Teresa behaved as she ought in sending +the acorns, for if she had not sent them I'd have been sorry, and she'd +have shown herself ungrateful. It is a comfort to me that they can't call +that present a bribe; for I had got the government already when she sent +them, and it's but reasonable that those who have had a good turn done +them should show their gratitude, if it's only with a trifle. After all I +went into the government naked, and I come out of it naked; so I can say +with a safe conscience--and that's no small matter--'naked I was born, +naked I find myself, I neither lose nor gain.'" + +Thus did Sancho soliloquise on the day of their departure, as Don +Quixote, who had the night before taken leave of the duke and duchess, +coming out made his appearance at an early hour in full armour in the +courtyard of the castle. The whole household of the castle were watching +him from the corridors, and the duke and duchess, too, came out to see +him. Sancho was mounted on his Dapple, with his alforjas, valise, and +proven, supremely happy because the duke's majordomo, the same that had +acted the part of the Trifaldi, had given him a little purse with two +hundred gold crowns to meet the necessary expenses of the road, but of +this Don Quixote knew nothing as yet. While all were, as has been said, +observing him, suddenly from among the duennas and handmaidens the +impudent and witty Altisidora lifted up her voice and said in pathetic +tones: + +poem{ + +Give ear, cruel knight; + Draw rein; where's the need +Of spurring the flanks + Of that ill-broken steed? +From what art thou flying? + No dragon I am, +Not even a sheep, + But a tender young lamb. +Thou hast jilted a maiden + As fair to behold +As nymph of Diana + Or Venus of old. + +Bireno, AEneas, what worse shall I call thee? + +Barabbas go with thee! All evil befall thee! + +In thy claws, ruthless robber, + Thou bearest away +The heart of a meek + Loving maid for thy prey, +Three kerchiefs thou stealest, + And garters a pair, +From legs than the whitest + Of marble more fair; +And the sighs that pursue thee + Would burn to the ground +Two thousand Troy Towns, + If so many were found. + +Bireno, AEneas, what worse shall I call thee? + +Barabbas go with thee! All evil befall thee! + +May no bowels of mercy + To Sancho be granted, +And thy Dulcinea + Be left still enchanted, +May thy falsehood to me + Find its punishment in her, +For in my land the just + Often pays for the sinner. +May thy grandest adventures + Discomfitures prove, +May thy joys be all dreams, + And forgotten thy love. + +Bireno, AEneas, what worse shall I call thee? + +Barabbas go with thee! All evil befall thee! + +May thy name be abhorred + For thy conduct to ladies, +From London to England, + From Seville to Cadiz; +May thy cards be unlucky, + Thy hands contain ne'er a +King, seven, or ace + When thou playest primera; +When thy corns are cut + May it be to the quick; +When thy grinders are drawn + May the roots of them stick. + +Bireno, AEneas, what worse shall I call thee? + +Barabbas go with thee! All evil befall thee! + +}poem + +All the while the unhappy Altisidora was bewailing herself in the above +strain Don Quixote stood staring at her; and without uttering a word in +reply to her he turned round to Sancho and said, "Sancho my friend, I +conjure thee by the life of thy forefathers tell me the truth; say, hast +thou by any chance taken the three kerchiefs and the garters this +love-sick maid speaks of?" + +To this Sancho made answer, "The three kerchiefs I have; but the garters, +as much as 'over the hills of Ubeda.'" + +The duchess was amazed at Altisidora's assurance; she knew that she was +bold, lively, and impudent, but not so much so as to venture to make free +in this fashion; and not being prepared for the joke, her astonishment +was all the greater. The duke had a mind to keep up the sport, so he +said, "It does not seem to me well done in you, sir knight, that after +having received the hospitality that has been offered you in this very +castle, you should have ventured to carry off even three kerchiefs, not +to say my handmaid's garters. It shows a bad heart and does not tally +with your reputation. Restore her garters, or else I defy you to mortal +combat, for I am not afraid of rascally enchanters changing or altering +my features as they changed his who encountered you into those of my +lacquey, Tosilos." + +"God forbid," said Don Quixote, "that I should draw my sword against your +illustrious person from which I have received such great favours. The +kerchiefs I will restore, as Sancho says he has them; as to the garters +that is impossible, for I have not got them, neither has he; and if your +handmaiden here will look in her hiding-places, depend upon it she will +find them. I have never been a thief, my lord duke, nor do I mean to be +so long as I live, if God cease not to have me in his keeping. This +damsel by her own confession speaks as one in love, for which I am not to +blame, and therefore need not ask pardon, either of her or of your +excellence, whom I entreat to have a better opinion of me, and once more +to give me leave to pursue my journey." + +"And may God so prosper it, Senor Don Quixote," said the duchess, "that +we may always hear good news of your exploits; God speed you; for the +longer you stay, the more you inflame the hearts of the damsels who +behold you; and as for this one of mine, I will so chastise her that she +will not transgress again, either with her eyes or with her words." + +"One word and no more, O valiant Don Quixote, I ask you to hear," said +Altisidora, "and that is that I beg your pardon about the theft of the +garters; for by God and upon my soul I have got them on, and I have +fallen into the same blunder as he did who went looking for his ass being +all the while mounted on it." + +"Didn't I say so?" said Sancho. "I'm a likely one to hide thefts! Why if +I wanted to deal in them, opportunities came ready enough to me in my +government." + +Don Quixote bowed his head, and saluted the duke and duchess and all the +bystanders, and wheeling Rocinante round, Sancho following him on Dapple, +he rode out of the castle, shaping his course for Saragossa. + +Chapter LVIII. - +Which tells how adventures came crowding on Don Quixote in such numbers +that they gave one another no breathing-time + +When Don Quixote saw himself in open country, free, and relieved from the +attentions of Altisidora, he felt at his ease, and in fresh spirits to +take up the pursuit of chivalry once more; and turning to Sancho he said, +"Freedom, Sancho, is one of the most precious gifts that heaven has +bestowed upon men; no treasures that the earth holds buried or the sea +conceals can compare with it; for freedom, as for honour, life may and +should be ventured; and on the other hand, captivity is the greatest evil +that can fall to the lot of man. I say this, Sancho, because thou hast +seen the good cheer, the abundance we have enjoyed in this castle we are +leaving; well then, amid those dainty banquets and snow-cooled beverages +I felt as though I were undergoing the straits of hunger, because I did +not enjoy them with the same freedom as if they had been mine own; for +the sense of being under an obligation to return benefits and favours +received is a restraint that checks the independence of the spirit. Happy +he, to whom heaven has given a piece of bread for which he is not bound +to give thanks to any but heaven itself!" + +"For all your worship says," said Sancho, "it is not becoming that there +should be no thanks on our part for two hundred gold crowns that the +duke's majordomo has given me in a little purse which I carry next my +heart, like a warming plaster or comforter, to meet any chance calls; for +we shan't always find castles where they'll entertain us; now and then we +may light upon roadside inns where they'll cudgel us." + +In conversation of this sort the knight and squire errant were pursuing +their journey, when, after they had gone a little more than half a +league, they perceived some dozen men dressed like labourers stretched +upon their cloaks on the grass of a green meadow eating their dinner. +They had beside them what seemed to be white sheets concealing some +objects under them, standing upright or lying flat, and arranged at +intervals. Don Quixote approached the diners, and, saluting them +courteously first, he asked them what it was those cloths covered. +"Senor," answered one of the party, "under these cloths are some images +carved in relief intended for a retablo we are putting up in our village; +we carry them covered up that they may not be soiled, and on our +shoulders that they may not be broken." + +"With your good leave," said Don Quixote, "I should like to see them; for +images that are carried so carefully no doubt must be fine ones." + +"I should think they were!" said the other; "let the money they cost +speak for that; for as a matter of fact there is not one of them that +does not stand us in more than fifty ducats; and that your worship may +judge; wait a moment, and you shall see with your own eyes;" and getting +up from his dinner he went and uncovered the first image, which proved to +be one of Saint George on horseback with a serpent writhing at his feet +and the lance thrust down its throat with all that fierceness that is +usually depicted. The whole group was one blaze of gold, as the saying +is. On seeing it Don Quixote said, "That knight was one of the best +knights-errant the army of heaven ever owned; he was called Don Saint +George, and he was moreover a defender of maidens. Let us see this next +one." + +The man uncovered it, and it was seen to be that of Saint Martin on his +horse, dividing his cloak with the beggar. The instant Don Quixote saw it +he said, "This knight too was one of the Christian adventurers, but I +believe he was generous rather than valiant, as thou mayest perceive, +Sancho, by his dividing his cloak with the beggar and giving him half of +it; no doubt it was winter at the time, for otherwise he would have given +him the whole of it, so charitable was he." + +"It was not that, most likely," said Sancho, "but that he held with the +proverb that says, 'For giving and keeping there's need of brains.'" + +Don Quixote laughed, and asked them to take off the next cloth, +underneath which was seen the image of the patron saint of the Spains +seated on horseback, his sword stained with blood, trampling on Moors and +treading heads underfoot; and on seeing it Don Quixote exclaimed, "Ay, +this is a knight, and of the squadrons of Christ! This one is called Don +Saint James the Moorslayer, one of the bravest saints and knights the +world ever had or heaven has now." + +They then raised another cloth which it appeared covered Saint Paul +falling from his horse, with all the details that are usually given in +representations of his conversion. When Don Quixote saw it, rendered in +such lifelike style that one would have said Christ was speaking and Paul +answering, "This," he said, "was in his time the greatest enemy that the +Church of God our Lord had, and the greatest champion it will ever have; +a knight-errant in life, a steadfast saint in death, an untiring labourer +in the Lord's vineyard, a teacher of the Gentiles, whose school was +heaven, and whose instructor and master was Jesus Christ himself." + +There were no more images, so Don Quixote bade them cover them up again, +and said to those who had brought them, "I take it as a happy omen, +brothers, to have seen what I have; for these saints and knights were of +the same profession as myself, which is the calling of arms; only there +is this difference between them and me, that they were saints, and fought +with divine weapons, and I am a sinner and fight with human ones. They +won heaven by force of arms, for heaven suffereth violence; and I, so +far, know not what I have won by dint of my sufferings; but if my +Dulcinea del Toboso were to be released from hers, perhaps with mended +fortunes and a mind restored to itself I might direct my steps in a +better path than I am following at present." + +"May God hear and sin be deaf," said Sancho to this. + +The men were filled with wonder, as well at the figure as at the words of +Don Quixote, though they did not understand one half of what he meant by +them. They finished their dinner, took their images on their backs, and +bidding farewell to Don Quixote resumed their journey. + +Sancho was amazed afresh at the extent of his master's knowledge, as much +as if he had never known him, for it seemed to him that there was no +story or event in the world that he had not at his fingers' ends and +fixed in his memory, and he said to him, "In truth, master mine, if this +that has happened to us to-day is to be called an adventure, it has been +one of the sweetest and pleasantest that have befallen us in the whole +course of our travels; we have come out of it unbelaboured and +undismayed, neither have we drawn sword nor have we smitten the earth +with our bodies, nor have we been left famishing; blessed be God that he +has let me see such a thing with my own eyes!" + +"Thou sayest well, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "but remember all times are +not alike nor do they always run the same way; and these things the +vulgar commonly call omens, which are not based upon any natural reason, +will by him who is wise be esteemed and reckoned happy accidents merely. +One of these believers in omens will get up of a morning, leave his +house, and meet a friar of the order of the blessed Saint Francis, and, +as if he had met a griffin, he will turn about and go home. With another +Mendoza the salt is spilt on his table, and gloom is spilt over his +heart, as if nature was obliged to give warning of coming misfortunes by +means of such trivial things as these. The wise man and the Christian +should not trifle with what it may please heaven to do. Scipio on coming +to Africa stumbled as he leaped on shore; his soldiers took it as a bad +omen; but he, clasping the soil with his arms, exclaimed, 'Thou canst not +escape me, Africa, for I hold thee tight between my arms.' Thus, Sancho, +meeting those images has been to me a most happy occurrence." + +"I can well believe it," said Sancho; "but I wish your worship would tell +me what is the reason that the Spaniards, when they are about to give +battle, in calling on that Saint James the Moorslayer, say 'Santiago and +close Spain!' Is Spain, then, open, so that it is needful to close it; or +what is the meaning of this form?" + +"Thou art very simple, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "God, look you, gave +that great knight of the Red Cross to Spain as her patron saint and +protector, especially in those hard struggles the Spaniards had with the +Moors; and therefore they invoke and call upon him as their defender in +all their battles; and in these he has been many a time seen beating +down, trampling under foot, destroying and slaughtering the Hagarene +squadrons in the sight of all; of which fact I could give thee many +examples recorded in truthful Spanish histories." + +Sancho changed the subject, and said to his master, "I marvel, senor, at +the boldness of Altisidora, the duchess's handmaid; he whom they call +Love must have cruelly pierced and wounded her; they say he is a little +blind urchin who, though blear-eyed, or more properly speaking sightless, +if he aims at a heart, be it ever so small, hits it and pierces it +through and through with his arrows. I have heard it said too that the +arrows of Love are blunted and robbed of their points by maidenly modesty +and reserve; but with this Altisidora it seems they are sharpened rather +than blunted." + +"Bear in mind, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that love is influenced by no +consideration, recognises no restraints of reason, and is of the same +nature as death, that assails alike the lofty palaces of kings and the +humble cabins of shepherds; and when it takes entire possession of a +heart, the first thing it does is to banish fear and shame from it; and +so without shame Altisidora declared her passion, which excited in my +mind embarrassment rather than commiseration." + +"Notable cruelty!" exclaimed Sancho; "unheard-of ingratitude! I can only +say for myself that the very smallest loving word of hers would have +subdued me and made a slave of me. The devil! What a heart of marble, +what bowels of brass, what a soul of mortar! But I can't imagine what it +is that this damsel saw in your worship that could have conquered and +captivated her so. What gallant figure was it, what bold bearing, what +sprightly grace, what comeliness of feature, which of these things by +itself, or what all together, could have made her fall in love with you? +For indeed and in truth many a time I stop to look at your worship from +the sole of your foot to the topmost hair of your head, and I see more to +frighten one than to make one fall in love; moreover I have heard say +that beauty is the first and main thing that excites love, and as your +worship has none at all, I don't know what the poor creature fell in love +with." + +"Recollect, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "there are two sorts of beauty, +one of the mind, the other of the body; that of the mind displays and +exhibits itself in intelligence, in modesty, in honourable conduct, in +generosity, in good breeding; and all these qualities are possible and +may exist in an ugly man; and when it is this sort of beauty and not that +of the body that is the attraction, love is apt to spring up suddenly and +violently. I, Sancho, perceive clearly enough that I am not beautiful, +but at the same time I know I am not hideous; and it is enough for an +honest man not to be a monster to be an object of love, if only he +possesses the endowments of mind I have mentioned." + +While engaged in this discourse they were making their way through a wood +that lay beyond the road, when suddenly, without expecting anything of +the kind, Don Quixote found himself caught in some nets of green cord +stretched from one tree to another; and unable to conceive what it could +be, he said to Sancho, "Sancho, it strikes me this affair of these nets +will prove one of the strangest adventures imaginable. May I die if the +enchanters that persecute me are not trying to entangle me in them and +delay my journey, by way of revenge for my obduracy towards Altisidora. +Well then let me tell them that if these nets, instead of being green +cord, were made of the hardest diamonds, or stronger than that wherewith +the jealous god of blacksmiths enmeshed Venus and Mars, I would break +them as easily as if they were made of rushes or cotton threads." But +just as he was about to press forward and break through all, suddenly +from among some trees two shepherdesses of surpassing beauty presented +themselves to his sight--or at least damsels dressed like shepherdesses, +save that their jerkins and sayas were of fine brocade; that is to say, +the sayas were rich farthingales of gold embroidered tabby. Their hair, +that in its golden brightness vied with the beams of the sun itself, fell +loose upon their shoulders and was crowned with garlands twined with +green laurel and red everlasting; and their years to all appearance were +not under fifteen nor above eighteen. + +Such was the spectacle that filled Sancho with amazement, fascinated Don +Quixote, made the sun halt in his course to behold them, and held all +four in a strange silence. One of the shepherdesses, at length, was the +first to speak and said to Don Quixote, "Hold, sir knight, and do not +break these nets; for they are not spread here to do you any harm, but +only for our amusement; and as I know you will ask why they have been put +up, and who we are, I will tell you in a few words. In a village some two +leagues from this, where there are many people of quality and rich +gentlefolk, it was agreed upon by a number of friends and relations to +come with their wives, sons and daughters, neighbours, friends and +kinsmen, and make holiday in this spot, which is one of the pleasantest +in the whole neighbourhood, setting up a new pastoral Arcadia among +ourselves, we maidens dressing ourselves as shepherdesses and the youths +as shepherds. We have prepared two eclogues, one by the famous poet +Garcilasso, the other by the most excellent Camoens, in its own +Portuguese tongue, but we have not as yet acted them. Yesterday was the +first day of our coming here; we have a few of what they say are called +field-tents pitched among the trees on the bank of an ample brook that +fertilises all these meadows; last night we spread these nets in the +trees here to snare the silly little birds that startled by the noise we +make may fly into them. If you please to be our guest, senor, you will be +welcomed heartily and courteously, for here just now neither care nor +sorrow shall enter." + +She held her peace and said no more, and Don Quixote made answer, "Of a +truth, fairest lady, Actaeon when he unexpectedly beheld Diana bathing in +the stream could not have been more fascinated and wonderstruck than I at +the sight of your beauty. I commend your mode of entertainment, and thank +you for the kindness of your invitation; and if I can serve you, you may +command me with full confidence of being obeyed, for my profession is +none other than to show myself grateful, and ready to serve persons of +all conditions, but especially persons of quality such as your appearance +indicates; and if, instead of taking up, as they probably do, but a small +space, these nets took up the whole surface of the globe, I would seek +out new worlds through which to pass, so as not to break them; and that +ye may give some degree of credence to this exaggerated language of mine, +know that it is no less than Don Quixote of La Mancha that makes this +declaration to you, if indeed it be that such a name has reached your +ears." + +"Ah! friend of my soul," instantly exclaimed the other shepherdess, "what +great good fortune has befallen us! Seest thou this gentleman we have +before us? Well then let me tell thee he is the most valiant and the most +devoted and the most courteous gentleman in all the world, unless a +history of his achievements that has been printed and I have read is +telling lies and deceiving us. I will lay a wager that this good fellow +who is with him is one Sancho Panza his squire, whose drolleries none can +equal." + +"That's true," said Sancho; "I am that same droll and squire you speak +of, and this gentleman is my master Don Quixote of La Mancha, the same +that's in the history and that they talk about." + +"Oh, my friend," said the other, "let us entreat him to stay; for it will +give our fathers and brothers infinite pleasure; I too have heard just +what thou hast told me of the valour of the one and the drolleries of the +other; and what is more, of him they say that he is the most constant and +loyal lover that was ever heard of, and that his lady is one Dulcinea del +Toboso, to whom all over Spain the palm of beauty is awarded." + +"And justly awarded," said Don Quixote, "unless, indeed, your unequalled +beauty makes it a matter of doubt. But spare yourselves the trouble, +ladies, of pressing me to stay, for the urgent calls of my profession do +not allow me to take rest under any circumstances." + +At this instant there came up to the spot where the four stood a brother +of one of the two shepherdesses, like them in shepherd costume, and as +richly and gaily dressed as they were. They told him that their companion +was the valiant Don Quixote of La Mancha, and the other Sancho his +squire, of whom he knew already from having read their history. The gay +shepherd offered him his services and begged that he would accompany him +to their tents, and Don Quixote had to give way and comply. And now the +gave was started, and the nets were filled with a variety of birds that +deceived by the colour fell into the danger they were flying from. +Upwards of thirty persons, all gaily attired as shepherds and +shepherdesses, assembled on the spot, and were at once informed who Don +Quixote and his squire were, whereat they were not a little delighted, as +they knew of him already through his history. They repaired to the tents, +where they found tables laid out, and choicely, plentifully, and neatly +furnished. They treated Don Quixote as a person of distinction, giving +him the place of honour, and all observed him, and were full of +astonishment at the spectacle. At last the cloth being removed, Don +Quixote with great composure lifted up his voice and said: + +"One of the greatest sins that men are guilty of is--some will say +pride--but I say ingratitude, going by the common saying that hell is +full of ingrates. This sin, so far as it has lain in my power, I have +endeavoured to avoid ever since I have enjoyed the faculty of reason; and +if I am unable to requite good deeds that have been done me by other +deeds, I substitute the desire to do so; and if that be not enough I make +them known publicly; for he who declares and makes known the good deeds +done to him would repay them by others if it were in his power, and for +the most part those who receive are the inferiors of those who give. +Thus, God is superior to all because he is the supreme giver, and the +offerings of man fall short by an infinite distance of being a full +return for the gifts of God; but gratitude in some degree makes up for +this deficiency and shortcoming. I therefore, grateful for the favour +that has been extended to me here, and unable to make a return in the +same measure, restricted as I am by the narrow limits of my power, offer +what I can and what I have to offer in my own way; and so I declare that +for two full days I will maintain in the middle of this highway leading +to Saragossa, that these ladies disguised as shepherdesses, who are here +present, are the fairest and most courteous maidens in the world, +excepting only the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, sole mistress of my +thoughts, be it said without offence to those who hear me, ladies and +gentlemen." + +On hearing this Sancho, who had been listening with great attention, +cried out in a loud voice, "Is it possible there is anyone in the world +who will dare to say and swear that this master of mine is a madman? Say, +gentlemen shepherds, is there a village priest, be he ever so wise or +learned, who could say what my master has said; or is there +knight-errant, whatever renown he may have as a man of valour, that could +offer what my master has offered now?" + +Don Quixote turned upon Sancho, and with a countenance glowing with anger +said to him, "Is it possible, Sancho, there is anyone in the whole world +who will say thou art not a fool, with a lining to match, and I know not +what trimmings of impertinence and roguery? Who asked thee to meddle in +my affairs, or to inquire whether I am a wise man or a blockhead? Hold +thy peace; answer me not a word; saddle Rocinante if he be unsaddled; and +let us go to put my offer into execution; for with the right that I have +on my side thou mayest reckon as vanquished all who shall venture to +question it;" and in a great rage, and showing his anger plainly, he rose +from his seat, leaving the company lost in wonder, and making them feel +doubtful whether they ought to regard him as a madman or a rational +being. In the end, though they sought to dissuade him from involving +himself in such a challenge, assuring him they admitted his gratitude as +fully established, and needed no fresh proofs to be convinced of his +valiant spirit, as those related in the history of his exploits were +sufficient, still Don Quixote persisted in his resolve; and mounted on +Rocinante, bracing his buckler on his arm and grasping his lance, he +posted himself in the middle of a high road that was not far from the +green meadow. Sancho followed on Dapple, together with all the members of +the pastoral gathering, eager to see what would be the upshot of his +vainglorious and extraordinary proposal. + +Don Quixote, then, having, as has been said, planted himself in the +middle of the road, made the welkin ring with words to this effect: "Ho +ye travellers and wayfarers, knights, squires, folk on foot or on +horseback, who pass this way or shall pass in the course of the next two +days! Know that Don Quixote of La Mancha, knight-errant, is posted here +to maintain by arms that the beauty and courtesy enshrined in the nymphs +that dwell in these meadows and groves surpass all upon earth, putting +aside the lady of my heart, Dulcinea del Toboso. Wherefore, let him who +is of the opposite opinion come on, for here I await him." + +Twice he repeated the same words, and twice they fell unheard by any +adventurer; but fate, that was guiding affairs for him from better to +better, so ordered it that shortly afterwards there appeared on the road +a crowd of men on horseback, many of them with lances in their hands, all +riding in a compact body and in great haste. No sooner had those who were +with Don Quixote seen them than they turned about and withdrew to some +distance from the road, for they knew that if they stayed some harm might +come to them; but Don Quixote with intrepid heart stood his ground, and +Sancho Panza shielded himself with Rocinante's hind-quarters. The troop +of lancers came up, and one of them who was in advance began shouting to +Don Quixote, "Get out of the way, you son of the devil, or these bulls +will knock you to pieces!" + +"Rabble!" returned Don Quixote, "I care nothing for bulls, be they the +fiercest Jarama breeds on its banks. Confess at once, scoundrels, that +what I have declared is true; else ye have to deal with me in combat." + +The herdsman had no time to reply, nor Don Quixote to get out of the way +even if he wished; and so the drove of fierce bulls and tame bullocks, +together with the crowd of herdsmen and others who were taking them to be +penned up in a village where they were to be run the next day, passed +over Don Quixote and over Sancho, Rocinante and Dapple, hurling them all +to the earth and rolling them over on the ground. Sancho was left +crushed, Don Quixote scared, Dapple belaboured and Rocinante in no very +sound condition. + +They all got up, however, at length, and Don Quixote in great haste, +stumbling here and falling there, started off running after the drove, +shouting out, "Hold! stay! ye rascally rabble, a single knight awaits +you, and he is not of the temper or opinion of those who say, 'For a +flying enemy make a bridge of silver.'" The retreating party in their +haste, however, did not stop for that, or heed his menaces any more than +last year's clouds. Weariness brought Don Quixote to a halt, and more +enraged than avenged he sat down on the road to wait until Sancho, +Rocinante and Dapple came up. When they reached him master and man +mounted once more, and without going back to bid farewell to the mock or +imitation Arcadia, and more in humiliation than contentment, they +continued their journey. + +Chapter LIX. - +Wherein is related the strange thing, which may be regarded as an +adventure, that happened Don Quixote + +A clear limpid spring which they discovered in a cool grove relieved Don +Quixote and Sancho of the dust and fatigue due to the unpolite behaviour +of the bulls, and by the side of this, having turned Dapple and Rocinante +loose without headstall or bridle, the forlorn pair, master and man, +seated themselves. Sancho had recourse to the larder of his alforjas and +took out of them what he called the prog; Don Quixote rinsed his mouth +and bathed his face, by which cooling process his flagging energies were +revived. Out of pure vexation he remained without eating, and out of pure +politeness Sancho did not venture to touch a morsel of what was before +him, but waited for his master to act as taster. Seeing, however, that, +absorbed in thought, he was forgetting to carry the bread to his mouth, +he said never a word, and trampling every sort of good breeding under +foot, began to stow away in his paunch the bread and cheese that came to +his hand. + +"Eat, Sancho my friend," said Don Quixote; "support life, which is of +more consequence to thee than to me, and leave me to die under the pain +of my thoughts and pressure of my misfortunes. I was born, Sancho, to +live dying, and thou to die eating; and to prove the truth of what I say, +look at me, printed in histories, famed in arms, courteous in behaviour, +honoured by princes, courted by maidens; and after all, when I looked +forward to palms, triumphs, and crowns, won and earned by my valiant +deeds, I have this morning seen myself trampled on, kicked, and crushed +by the feet of unclean and filthy animals. This thought blunts my teeth, +paralyses my jaws, cramps my hands, and robs me of all appetite for food; +so much so that I have a mind to let myself die of hunger, the cruelest +death of all deaths." + +"So then," said Sancho, munching hard all the time, "your worship does +not agree with the proverb that says, 'Let Martha die, but let her die +with a full belly.' I, at any rate, have no mind to kill myself; so far +from that, I mean to do as the cobbler does, who stretches the leather +with his teeth until he makes it reach as far as he wants. I'll stretch +out my life by eating until it reaches the end heaven has fixed for it; +and let me tell you, senor, there's no greater folly than to think of +dying of despair as your worship does; take my advice, and after eating +lie down and sleep a bit on this green grass-mattress, and you will see +that when you awake you'll feel something better." + +Don Quixote did as he recommended, for it struck him that Sancho's +reasoning was more like a philosopher's than a blockhead's, and said he, +"Sancho, if thou wilt do for me what I am going to tell thee my ease of +mind would be more assured and my heaviness of heart not so great; and it +is this; to go aside a little while I am sleeping in accordance with thy +advice, and, making bare thy carcase to the air, to give thyself three or +four hundred lashes with Rocinante's reins, on account of the three +thousand and odd thou art to give thyself for the disenchantment of +Dulcinea; for it is a great pity that the poor lady should be left +enchanted through thy carelessness and negligence." + +"There is a good deal to be said on that point," said Sancho; "let us +both go to sleep now, and after that, God has decreed what will happen. +Let me tell your worship that for a man to whip himself in cold blood is +a hard thing, especially if the stripes fall upon an ill-nourished and +worse-fed body. Let my lady Dulcinea have patience, and when she is least +expecting it, she will see me made a riddle of with whipping, and 'until +death it's all life;' I mean that I have still life in me, and the desire +to make good what I have promised." + +Don Quixote thanked him, and ate a little, and Sancho a good deal, and +then they both lay down to sleep, leaving those two inseparable friends +and comrades, Rocinante and Dapple, to their own devices and to feed +unrestrained upon the abundant grass with which the meadow was furnished. +They woke up rather late, mounted once more and resumed their journey, +pushing on to reach an inn which was in sight, apparently a league off. I +say an inn, because Don Quixote called it so, contrary to his usual +practice of calling all inns castles. They reached it, and asked the +landlord if they could put up there. He said yes, with as much comfort +and as good fare as they could find in Saragossa. They dismounted, and +Sancho stowed away his larder in a room of which the landlord gave him +the key. He took the beasts to the stable, fed them, and came back to see +what orders Don Quixote, who was seated on a bench at the door, had for +him, giving special thanks to heaven that this inn had not been taken for +a castle by his master. Supper-time came, and they repaired to their +room, and Sancho asked the landlord what he had to give them for supper. +To this the landlord replied that his mouth should be the measure; he had +only to ask what he would; for that inn was provided with the birds of +the air and the fowls of the earth and the fish of the sea. + +"There's no need of all that," said Sancho; "if they'll roast us a couple +of chickens we'll be satisfied, for my master is delicate and eats +little, and I'm not over and above gluttonous." + +The landlord replied he had no chickens, for the kites had stolen them. + +"Well then," said Sancho, "let senor landlord tell them to roast a +pullet, so that it is a tender one." + +"Pullet! My father!" said the landlord; "indeed and in truth it's only +yesterday I sent over fifty to the city to sell; but saving pullets ask +what you will." + +"In that case," said Sancho, "you will not be without veal or kid." + +"Just now," said the landlord, "there's none in the house, for it's all +finished; but next week there will be enough and to spare." + +"Much good that does us," said Sancho; "I'll lay a bet that all these +short-comings are going to wind up in plenty of bacon and eggs." + +"By God," said the landlord, "my guest's wits must be precious dull; I +tell him I have neither pullets nor hens, and he wants me to have eggs! +Talk of other dainties, if you please, and don't ask for hens again." + +"Body o' me!" said Sancho, "let's settle the matter; say at once what you +have got, and let us have no more words about it." + +"In truth and earnest, senor guest," said the landlord, "all I have is a +couple of cow-heels like calves' feet, or a couple of calves' feet like +cowheels; they are boiled with chick-peas, onions, and bacon, and at this +moment they are crying 'Come eat me, come eat me." + +"I mark them for mine on the spot," said Sancho; "let nobody touch them; +I'll pay better for them than anyone else, for I could not wish for +anything more to my taste; and I don't care a pin whether they are feet +or heels." + +"Nobody shall touch them," said the landlord; "for the other guests I +have, being persons of high quality, bring their own cook and caterer and +larder with them." + +"If you come to people of quality," said Sancho, "there's nobody more so +than my master; but the calling he follows does not allow of larders or +store-rooms; we lay ourselves down in the middle of a meadow, and fill +ourselves with acorns or medlars." + +Here ended Sancho's conversation with the landlord, Sancho not caring to +carry it any farther by answering him; for he had already asked him what +calling or what profession it was his master was of. + +Supper-time having come, then, Don Quixote betook himself to his room, +the landlord brought in the stew-pan just as it was, and he sat himself +down to sup very resolutely. It seems that in another room, which was +next to Don Quixote's, with nothing but a thin partition to separate it, +he overheard these words, "As you live, Senor Don Jeronimo, while they +are bringing supper, let us read another chapter of the Second Part of +'Don Quixote of La Mancha.'" + +The instant Don Quixote heard his own name be started to his feet and +listened with open ears to catch what they said about him, and heard the +Don Jeronimo who had been addressed say in reply, "Why would you have us +read that absurd stuff, Don Juan, when it is impossible for anyone who +has read the First Part of the history of 'Don Quixote of La Mancha' to +take any pleasure in reading this Second Part?" + +"For all that," said he who was addressed as Don Juan, "we shall do well +to read it, for there is no book so bad but it has something good in it. +What displeases me most in it is that it represents Don Quixote as now +cured of his love for Dulcinea del Toboso." + +On hearing this Don Quixote, full of wrath and indignation, lifted up his +voice and said, "Whoever he may be who says that Don Quixote of La Mancha +has forgotten or can forget Dulcinea del Toboso, I will teach him with +equal arms that what he says is very far from the truth; for neither can +the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso be forgotten, nor can forgetfulness have +a place in Don Quixote; his motto is constancy, and his profession to +maintain the same with his life and never wrong it." + +"Who is this that answers us?" said they in the next room. + +"Who should it be," said Sancho, "but Don Quixote of La Mancha himself, +who will make good all he has said and all he will say; for pledges don't +trouble a good payer." + +Sancho had hardly uttered these words when two gentlemen, for such they +seemed to be, entered the room, and one of them, throwing his arms round +Don Quixote's neck, said to him, "Your appearance cannot leave any +question as to your name, nor can your name fail to identify your +appearance; unquestionably, senor, you are the real Don Quixote of La +Mancha, cynosure and morning star of knight-errantry, despite and in +defiance of him who has sought to usurp your name and bring to naught +your achievements, as the author of this book which I here present to you +has done;" and with this he put a book which his companion carried into +the hands of Don Quixote, who took it, and without replying began to run +his eye over it; but he presently returned it saying, "In the little I +have seen I have discovered three things in this author that deserve to +be censured. The first is some words that I have read in the preface; the +next that the language is Aragonese, for sometimes he writes without +articles; and the third, which above all stamps him as ignorant, is that +he goes wrong and departs from the truth in the most important part of +the history, for here he says that my squire Sancho Panza's wife is +called Mari Gutierrez, when she is called nothing of the sort, but Teresa +Panza; and when a man errs on such an important point as this there is +good reason to fear that he is in error on every other point in the +history." + +"A nice sort of historian, indeed!" exclaimed Sancho at this; "he must +know a deal about our affairs when he calls my wife Teresa Panza, Mari +Gutierrez; take the book again, senor, and see if I am in it and if he +has changed my name." + +"From your talk, friend," said Don Jeronimo, "no doubt you are Sancho +Panza, Senor Don Quixote's squire." + +"Yes, I am," said Sancho; "and I'm proud of it." + +"Faith, then," said the gentleman, "this new author does not handle you +with the decency that displays itself in your person; he makes you out a +heavy feeder and a fool, and not in the least droll, and a very different +being from the Sancho described in the First Part of your master's +history." + +"God forgive him," said Sancho; "he might have left me in my corner +without troubling his head about me; 'let him who knows how ring the +bells; 'Saint Peter is very well in Rome.'" + +The two gentlemen pressed Don Quixote to come into their room and have +supper with them, as they knew very well there was nothing in that inn +fit for one of his sort. Don Quixote, who was always polite, yielded to +their request and supped with them. Sancho stayed behind with the stew. +and invested with plenary delegated authority seated himself at the head +of the table, and the landlord sat down with him, for he was no less fond +of cow-heel and calves' feet than Sancho was. + +While at supper Don Juan asked Don Quixote what news he had of the lady +Dulcinea del Toboso, was she married, had she been brought to bed, or was +she with child, or did she in maidenhood, still preserving her modesty +and delicacy, cherish the remembrance of the tender passion of Senor Don +Quixote? + +To this he replied, "Dulcinea is a maiden still, and my passion more +firmly rooted than ever, our intercourse unsatisfactory as before, and +her beauty transformed into that of a foul country wench;" and then he +proceeded to give them a full and particular account of the enchantment +of Dulcinea, and of what had happened him in the cave of Montesinos, +together with what the sage Merlin had prescribed for her disenchantment, +namely the scourging of Sancho. + +Exceedingly great was the amusement the two gentlemen derived from +hearing Don Quixote recount the strange incidents of his history; and if +they were amazed by his absurdities they were equally amazed by the +elegant style in which he delivered them. On the one hand they regarded +him as a man of wit and sense, and on the other he seemed to them a +maundering blockhead, and they could not make up their minds whereabouts +between wisdom and folly they ought to place him. + +Sancho having finished his supper, and left the landlord in the X +condition, repaired to the room where his master was, and as he came in +said, "May I die, sirs, if the author of this book your worships have got +has any mind that we should agree; as he calls me glutton (according to +what your worships say) I wish he may not call me drunkard too." + +"But he does," said Don Jeronimo; "I cannot remember, however, in what +way, though I know his words are offensive, and what is more, lying, as I +can see plainly by the physiognomy of the worthy Sancho before me." + +"Believe me," said Sancho, "the Sancho and the Don Quixote of this +history must be different persons from those that appear in the one Cide +Hamete Benengeli wrote, who are ourselves; my master valiant, wise, and +true in love, and I simple, droll, and neither glutton nor drunkard." + +"I believe it," said Don Juan; "and were it possible, an order should be +issued that no one should have the presumption to deal with anything +relating to Don Quixote, save his original author Cide Hamete; just as +Alexander commanded that no one should presume to paint his portrait save +Apelles." + +"Let him who will paint me," said Don Quixote; "but let him not abuse me; +for patience will often break down when they heap insults upon it." + +"None can be offered to Senor Don Quixote," said Don Juan, "that he +himself will not be able to avenge, if he does not ward it off with the +shield of his patience, which, I take it, is great and strong." + +A considerable portion of the night passed in conversation of this sort, +and though Don Juan wished Don Quixote to read more of the book to see +what it was all about, he was not to be prevailed upon, saying that he +treated it as read and pronounced it utterly silly; and, if by any chance +it should come to its author's ears that he had it in his hand, he did +not want him to flatter himself with the idea that he had read it; for +our thoughts, and still more our eyes, should keep themselves aloof from +what is obscene and filthy. + +They asked him whither he meant to direct his steps. He replied, to +Saragossa, to take part in the harness jousts which were held in that +city every year. Don Juan told him that the new history described how Don +Quixote, let him be who he might, took part there in a tilting at the +ring, utterly devoid of invention, poor in mottoes, very poor in costume, +though rich in sillinesses. + +"For that very reason," said Don Quixote, "I will not set foot in +Saragossa; and by that means I shall expose to the world the lie of this +new history writer, and people will see that I am not the Don Quixote he +speaks of." + +"You will do quite right," said Don Jeronimo; "and there are other jousts +at Barcelona in which Senor Don Quixote may display his prowess." + +"That is what I mean to do," said Don Quixote; "and as it is now time, I +pray your worships to give me leave to retire to bed, and to place and +retain me among the number of your greatest friends and servants." + +"And me too," said Sancho; "maybe I'll be good for something." + +With this they exchanged farewells, and Don Quixote and Sancho retired to +their room, leaving Don Juan and Don Jeronimo amazed to see the medley he +made of his good sense and his craziness; and they felt thoroughly +convinced that these, and not those their Aragonese author described, +were the genuine Don Quixote and Sancho. Don Quixote rose betimes, and +bade adieu to his hosts by knocking at the partition of the other room. +Sancho paid the landlord magnificently, and recommended him either to say +less about the providing of his inn or to keep it better provided. + +Chapter LX. - +Of what happened Don Quixote on his way to Barcelona + +It was a fresh morning giving promise of a cool day as Don Quixote +quitted the inn, first of all taking care to ascertain the most direct +road to Barcelona without touching upon Saragossa; so anxious was he to +make out this new historian, who they said abused him so, to be a liar. +Well, as it fell out, nothing worthy of being recorded happened him for +six days, at the end of which, having turned aside out of the road, he +was overtaken by night in a thicket of oak or cork trees; for on this +point Cide Hamete is not as precise as he usually is on other matters. + +Master and man dismounted from their beasts, and as soon as they had +settled themselves at the foot of the trees, Sancho, who had had a good +noontide meal that day, let himself, without more ado, pass the gates of +sleep. But Don Quixote, whom his thoughts, far more than hunger, kept +awake, could not close an eye, and roamed in fancy to and fro through all +sorts of places. At one moment it seemed to him that he was in the cave +of Montesinos and saw Dulcinea, transformed into a country wench, +skipping and mounting upon her she-ass; again that the words of the sage +Merlin were sounding in his ears, setting forth the conditions to be +observed and the exertions to be made for the disenchantment of Dulcinea. +He lost all patience when he considered the laziness and want of charity +of his squire Sancho; for to the best of his belief he had only given +himself five lashes, a number paltry and disproportioned to the vast +number required. At this thought he felt such vexation and anger that he +reasoned the matter thus: "If Alexander the Great cut the Gordian knot, +saying, 'To cut comes to the same thing as to untie,' and yet did not +fail to become lord paramount of all Asia, neither more nor less could +happen now in Dulcinea's disenchantment if I scourge Sancho against his +will; for, if it is the condition of the remedy that Sancho shall receive +three thousand and odd lashes, what does it matter to me whether he +inflicts them himself, or some one else inflicts them, when the essential +point is that he receives them, let them come from whatever quarter they +may?" + +With this idea he went over to Sancho, having first taken Rocinante's +reins and arranged them so as to be able to flog him with them, and began +to untie the points (the common belief is he had but one in front) by +which his breeches were held up; but the instant he approached him Sancho +woke up in his full senses and cried out, "What is this? Who is touching +me and untrussing me?" + +"It is I," said Don Quixote, "and I come to make good thy shortcomings +and relieve my own distresses; I come to whip thee, Sancho, and wipe off +some portion of the debt thou hast undertaken. Dulcinea is perishing, +thou art living on regardless, I am dying of hope deferred; therefore +untruss thyself with a good will, for mine it is, here, in this retired +spot, to give thee at least two thousand lashes." + +"Not a bit of it," said Sancho; "let your worship keep quiet, or else by +the living God the deaf shall hear us; the lashes I pledged myself to +must be voluntary and not forced upon me, and just now I have no fancy to +whip myself; it is enough if I give you my word to flog and flap myself +when I have a mind." + +"It will not do to leave it to thy courtesy, Sancho," said Don Quixote, +"for thou art hard of heart and, though a clown, tender of flesh;" and at +the same time he strove and struggled to untie him. + +Seeing this Sancho got up, and grappling with his master he gripped him +with all his might in his arms, giving him a trip with the heel stretched +him on the ground on his back, and pressing his right knee on his chest +held his hands in his own so that he could neither move nor breathe. + +"How now, traitor!" exclaimed Don Quixote. "Dost thou revolt against thy +master and natural lord? Dost thou rise against him who gives thee his +bread?" + +"I neither put down king, nor set up king," said Sancho; "I only stand up +for myself who am my own lord; if your worship promises me to be quiet, +and not to offer to whip me now, I'll let you go free and unhindered; if +not-- + +Traitor and Dona Sancha's foe, +Thou diest on the spot." +Don Quixote gave his promise, and swore by the life of his thoughts not +to touch so much as a hair of his garments, and to leave him entirely +free and to his own discretion to whip himself whenever he pleased. + +Sancho rose and removed some distance from the spot, but as he was about +to place himself leaning against another tree he felt something touch his +head, and putting up his hands encountered somebody's two feet with shoes +and stockings on them. He trembled with fear and made for another tree, +where the very same thing happened to him, and he fell a-shouting, +calling upon Don Quixote to come and protect him. Don Quixote did so, and +asked him what had happened to him, and what he was afraid of. Sancho +replied that all the trees were full of men's feet and legs. Don Quixote +felt them, and guessed at once what it was, and said to Sancho, "Thou +hast nothing to be afraid of, for these feet and legs that thou feelest +but canst not see belong no doubt to some outlaws and freebooters that +have been hanged on these trees; for the authorities in these parts are +wont to hang them up by twenties and thirties when they catch them; +whereby I conjecture that I must be near Barcelona;" and it was, in fact, +as he supposed; with the first light they looked up and saw that the +fruit hanging on those trees were freebooters' bodies. + +And now day dawned; and if the dead freebooters had scared them, their +hearts were no less troubled by upwards of forty living ones, who all of +a sudden surrounded them, and in the Catalan tongue bade them stand and +wait until their captain came up. Don Quixote was on foot with his horse +unbridled and his lance leaning against a tree, and in short completely +defenceless; he thought it best therefore to fold his arms and bow his +head and reserve himself for a more favourable occasion and opportunity. +The robbers made haste to search Dapple, and did not leave him a single +thing of all he carried in the alforjas and in the valise; and lucky it +was for Sancho that the duke's crowns and those he brought from home were +in a girdle that he wore round him; but for all that these good folk +would have stripped him, and even looked to see what he had hidden +between the skin and flesh, but for the arrival at that moment of their +captain, who was about thirty-four years of age apparently, strongly +built, above the middle height, of stern aspect and swarthy complexion. +He was mounted upon a powerful horse, and had on a coat of mail, with +four of the pistols they call petronels in that country at his waist. He +saw that his squires (for so they call those who follow that trade) were +about to rifle Sancho Panza, but he ordered them to desist and was at +once obeyed, so the girdle escaped. He wondered to see the lance leaning +against the tree, the shield on the ground, and Don Quixote in armour and +dejected, with the saddest and most melancholy face that sadness itself +could produce; and going up to him he said, "Be not so cast down, good +man, for you have not fallen into the hands of any inhuman Busiris, but +into Roque Guinart's, which are more merciful than cruel." + +"The cause of my dejection," returned Don Quixote, "is not that I have +fallen into thy hands, O valiant Roque, whose fame is bounded by no +limits on earth, but that my carelessness should have been so great that +thy soldiers should have caught me unbridled, when it is my duty, +according to the rule of knight-errantry which I profess, to be always on +the alert and at all times my own sentinel; for let me tell thee, great +Roque, had they found me on my horse, with my lance and shield, it would +not have been very easy for them to reduce me to submission, for I am Don +Quixote of La Mancha, he who hath filled the whole world with his +achievements." + +Roque Guinart at once perceived that Don Quixote's weakness was more akin +to madness than to swagger; and though he had sometimes heard him spoken +of, he never regarded the things attributed to him as true, nor could he +persuade himself that such a humour could become dominant in the heart of +man; he was extremely glad, therefore, to meet him and test at close +quarters what he had heard of him at a distance; so he said to him, +"Despair not, valiant knight, nor regard as an untoward fate the position +in which thou findest thyself; it may be that by these slips thy crooked +fortune will make itself straight; for heaven by strange circuitous ways, +mysterious and incomprehensible to man, raises up the fallen and makes +rich the poor." + +Don Quixote was about to thank him, when they heard behind them a noise +as of a troop of horses; there was, however, but one, riding on which at +a furious pace came a youth, apparently about twenty years of age, clad +in green damask edged with gold and breeches and a loose frock, with a +hat looped up in the Walloon fashion, tight-fitting polished boots, gilt +spurs, dagger and sword, and in his hand a musketoon, and a pair of +pistols at his waist. + +Roque turned round at the noise and perceived this comely figure, which +drawing near thus addressed him, "I came in quest of thee, valiant Roque, +to find in thee if not a remedy at least relief in my misfortune; and not +to keep thee in suspense, for I see thou dost not recognise me, I will +tell thee who I am; I am Claudia Jeronima, the daughter of Simon Forte, +thy good friend, and special enemy of Clauquel Torrellas, who is thine +also as being of the faction opposed to thee. Thou knowest that this +Torrellas has a son who is called, or at least was not two hours since, +Don Vicente Torrellas. Well, to cut short the tale of my misfortune, I +will tell thee in a few words what this youth has brought upon me. He saw +me, he paid court to me, I listened to him, and, unknown to my father, I +loved him; for there is no woman, however secluded she may live or close +she may be kept, who will not have opportunities and to spare for +following her headlong impulses. In a word, he pledged himself to be +mine, and I promised to be his, without carrying matters any further. +Yesterday I learned that, forgetful of his pledge to me, he was about to +marry another, and that he was to go this morning to plight his troth, +intelligence which overwhelmed and exasperated me; my father not being at +home I was able to adopt this costume you see, and urging my horse to +speed I overtook Don Vicente about a league from this, and without +waiting to utter reproaches or hear excuses I fired this musket at him, +and these two pistols besides, and to the best of my belief I must have +lodged more than two bullets in his body, opening doors to let my honour +go free, enveloped in his blood. I left him there in the hands of his +servants, who did not dare and were not able to interfere in his defence, +and I come to seek from thee a safe-conduct into France, where I have +relatives with whom I can live; and also to implore thee to protect my +father, so that Don Vicente's numerous kinsmen may not venture to wreak +their lawless vengeance upon him." + +Roque, filled with admiration at the gallant bearing, high spirit, comely +figure, and adventure of the fair Claudia, said to her, "Come, senora, +let us go and see if thy enemy is dead; and then we will consider what +will be best for thee." Don Quixote, who had been listening to what +Claudia said and Roque Guinart said in reply to her, exclaimed, "Nobody +need trouble himself with the defence of this lady, for I take it upon +myself. Give me my horse and arms, and wait for me here; I will go in +quest of this knight, and dead or alive I will make him keep his word +plighted to so great beauty." + +"Nobody need have any doubt about that," said Sancho, "for my master has +a very happy knack of matchmaking; it's not many days since he forced +another man to marry, who in the same way backed out of his promise to +another maiden; and if it had not been for his persecutors the enchanters +changing the man's proper shape into a lacquey's the said maiden would +not be one this minute." + +Roque, who was paying more attention to the fair Claudia's adventure than +to the words of master or man, did not hear them; and ordering his +squires to restore to Sancho everything they had stripped Dapple of, he +directed them to return to the place where they had been quartered during +the night, and then set off with Claudia at full speed in search of the +wounded or slain Don Vicente. They reached the spot where Claudia met +him, but found nothing there save freshly spilt blood; looking all round, +however, they descried some people on the slope of a hill above them, and +concluded, as indeed it proved to be, that it was Don Vicente, whom +either dead or alive his servants were removing to attend to his wounds +or to bury him. They made haste to overtake them, which, as the party +moved slowly, they were able to do with ease. They found Don Vicente in +the arms of his servants, whom he was entreating in a broken feeble voice +to leave him there to die, as the pain of his wounds would not suffer him +to go any farther. Claudia and Roque threw themselves off their horses +and advanced towards him; the servants were overawed by the appearance of +Roque, and Claudia was moved by the sight of Don Vicente, and going up to +him half tenderly half sternly, she seized his hand and said to him, +"Hadst thou given me this according to our compact thou hadst never come +to this pass." + +The wounded gentleman opened his all but closed eyes, and recognising +Claudia said, "I see clearly, fair and mistaken lady, that it is thou +that hast slain me, a punishment not merited or deserved by my feelings +towards thee, for never did I mean to, nor could I, wrong thee in thought +or deed." + +"It is not true, then," said Claudia, "that thou wert going this morning +to marry Leonora the daughter of the rich Balvastro?" + +"Assuredly not," replied Don Vicente; "my cruel fortune must have carried +those tidings to thee to drive thee in thy jealousy to take my life; and +to assure thyself of this, press my hands and take me for thy husband if +thou wilt; I have no better satisfaction to offer thee for the wrong thou +fanciest thou hast received from me." + +Claudia wrung his hands, and her own heart was so wrung that she lay +fainting on the bleeding breast of Don Vicente, whom a death spasm seized +the same instant. Roque was in perplexity and knew not what to do; the +servants ran to fetch water to sprinkle their faces, and brought some and +bathed them with it. Claudia recovered from her fainting fit, but not so +Don Vicente from the paroxysm that had overtaken him, for his life had +come to an end. On perceiving this, Claudia, when she had convinced +herself that her beloved husband was no more, rent the air with her sighs +and made the heavens ring with her lamentations; she tore her hair and +scattered it to the winds, she beat her face with her hands and showed +all the signs of grief and sorrow that could be conceived to come from an +afflicted heart. "Cruel, reckless woman!" she cried, "how easily wert +thou moved to carry out a thought so wicked! O furious force of jealousy, +to what desperate lengths dost thou lead those that give thee lodging in +their bosoms! O husband, whose unhappy fate in being mine hath borne thee +from the marriage bed to the grave!" + +So vehement and so piteous were the lamentations of Claudia that they +drew tears from Roque's eyes, unused as they were to shed them on any +occasion. The servants wept, Claudia swooned away again and again, and +the whole place seemed a field of sorrow and an abode of misfortune. In +the end Roque Guinart directed Don Vicente's servants to carry his body +to his father's village, which was close by, for burial. Claudia told him +she meant to go to a monastery of which an aunt of hers was abbess, where +she intended to pass her life with a better and everlasting spouse. He +applauded her pious resolution, and offered to accompany her +whithersoever she wished, and to protect her father against the kinsmen +of Don Vicente and all the world, should they seek to injure him. Claudia +would not on any account allow him to accompany her; and thanking him for +his offers as well as she could, took leave of him in tears. The servants +of Don Vicente carried away his body, and Roque returned to his comrades, +and so ended the love of Claudia Jeronima; but what wonder, when it was +the insuperable and cruel might of jealousy that wove the web of her sad +story? + +Roque Guinart found his squires at the place to which he had ordered +them, and Don Quixote on Rocinante in the midst of them delivering a +harangue to them in which he urged them to give up a mode of life so full +of peril, as well to the soul as to the body; but as most of them were +Gascons, rough lawless fellows, his speech did not make much impression +on them. Roque on coming up asked Sancho if his men had returned and +restored to him the treasures and jewels they had stripped off Dapple. +Sancho said they had, but that three kerchiefs that were worth three +cities were missing. + +"What are you talking about, man?" said one of the bystanders; "I have +got them, and they are not worth three reals." + +"That is true," said Don Quixote; "but my squire values them at the rate +he says, as having been given me by the person who gave them." + +Roque Guinart ordered them to be restored at once; and making his men +fall in in line he directed all the clothing, jewellery, and money that +they had taken since the last distribution to be produced; and making a +hasty valuation, and reducing what could not be divided into money, he +made shares for the whole band so equitably and carefully, that in no +case did he exceed or fall short of strict distributive justice. + +When this had been done, and all left satisfied, Roque observed to Don +Quixote, "If this scrupulous exactness were not observed with these +fellows there would be no living with them." + +Upon this Sancho remarked, "From what I have seen here, justice is such a +good thing that there is no doing without it, even among the thieves +themselves." + +One of the squires heard this, and raising the butt-end of his harquebuss +would no doubt have broken Sancho's head with it had not Roque Guinart +called out to him to hold his hand. Sancho was frightened out of his +wits, and vowed not to open his lips so long as he was in the company of +these people. + +At this instant one or two of those squires who were posted as sentinels +on the roads, to watch who came along them and report what passed to +their chief, came up and said, "Senor, there is a great troop of people +not far off coming along the road to Barcelona." + +To which Roque replied, "Hast thou made out whether they are of the sort +that are after us, or of the sort we are after?" + +"The sort we are after," said the squire. + +"Well then, away with you all," said Roque, "and bring them here to me at +once without letting one of them escape." + +They obeyed, and Don Quixote, Sancho, and Roque, left by themselves, +waited to see what the squires brought, and while they were waiting Roque +said to Don Quixote, "It must seem a strange sort of life to Senor Don +Quixote, this of ours, strange adventures, strange incidents, and all +full of danger; and I do not wonder that it should seem so, for in truth +I must own there is no mode of life more restless or anxious than ours. +What led me into it was a certain thirst for vengeance, which is strong +enough to disturb the quietest hearts. I am by nature tender-hearted and +kindly, but, as I said, the desire to revenge myself for a wrong that was +done me so overturns all my better impulses that I keep on in this way of +life in spite of what conscience tells me; and as one depth calls to +another, and one sin to another sin, revenges have linked themselves +together, and I have taken upon myself not only my own but those of +others: it pleases God, however, that, though I see myself in this maze +of entanglements, I do not lose all hope of escaping from it and reaching +a safe port." + +Don Quixote was amazed to hear Roque utter such excellent and just +sentiments, for he did not think that among those who followed such +trades as robbing, murdering, and waylaying, there could be anyone +capable of a virtuous thought, and he said in reply, "Senor Roque, the +beginning of health lies in knowing the disease and in the sick man's +willingness to take the medicines which the physician prescribes; you are +sick, you know what ails you, and heaven, or more properly speaking God, +who is our physician, will administer medicines that will cure you, and +cure gradually, and not of a sudden or by a miracle; besides, sinners of +discernment are nearer amendment than those who are fools; and as your +worship has shown good sense in your remarks, all you have to do is to +keep up a good heart and trust that the weakness of your conscience will +be strengthened. And if you have any desire to shorten the journey and +put yourself easily in the way of salvation, come with me, and I will +show you how to become a knight-errant, a calling wherein so many +hardships and mishaps are encountered that if they be taken as penances +they will lodge you in heaven in a trice." + +Roque laughed at Don Quixote's exhortation, and changing the conversation +he related the tragic affair of Claudia Jeronima, at which Sancho was +extremely grieved; for he had not found the young woman's beauty, +boldness, and spirit at all amiss. + +And now the squires despatched to make the prize came up, bringing with +them two gentlemen on horseback, two pilgrims on foot, and a coach full +of women with some six servants on foot and on horseback in attendance on +them, and a couple of muleteers whom the gentlemen had with them. The +squires made a ring round them, both victors and vanquished maintaining +profound silence, waiting for the great Roque Guinart to speak. He asked +the gentlemen who they were, whither they were going, and what money they +carried with them; "Senor," replied one of them, "we are two captains of +Spanish infantry; our companies are at Naples, and we are on our way to +embark in four galleys which they say are at Barcelona under orders for +Sicily; and we have about two or three hundred crowns, with which we are, +according to our notions, rich and contented, for a soldier's poverty +does not allow a more extensive hoard." + +Roque asked the pilgrims the same questions he had put to the captains, +and was answered that they were going to take ship for Rome, and that +between them they might have about sixty reals. He asked also who was in +the coach, whither they were bound and what money they had, and one of +the men on horseback replied, "The persons in the coach are my lady Dona +Guiomar de Quinones, wife of the regent of the Vicaria at Naples, her +little daughter, a handmaid and a duenna; we six servants are in +attendance upon her, and the money amounts to six hundred crowns." + +"So then," said Roque Guinart, "we have got here nine hundred crowns and +sixty reals; my soldiers must number some sixty; see how much there falls +to each, for I am a bad arithmetician." As soon as the robbers heard this +they raised a shout of "Long life to Roque Guinart, in spite of the +lladres that seek his ruin!" + +The captains showed plainly the concern they felt, the regent's lady was +downcast, and the pilgrims did not at all enjoy seeing their property +confiscated. Roque kept them in suspense in this way for a while; but he +had no desire to prolong their distress, which might be seen a bowshot +off, and turning to the captains he said, "Sirs, will your worships be +pleased of your courtesy to lend me sixty crowns, and her ladyship the +regent's wife eighty, to satisfy this band that follows me, for 'it is by +his singing the abbot gets his dinner;' and then you may at once proceed +on your journey, free and unhindered, with a safe-conduct which I shall +give you, so that if you come across any other bands of mine that I have +scattered in these parts, they may do you no harm; for I have no +intention of doing injury to soldiers, or to any woman, especially one of +quality." + +Profuse and hearty were the expressions of gratitude with which the +captains thanked Roque for his courtesy and generosity; for such they +regarded his leaving them their own money. Senora Dona Guiomar de +Quinones wanted to throw herself out of the coach to kiss the feet and +hands of the great Roque, but he would not suffer it on any account; so +far from that, he begged her pardon for the wrong he had done her under +pressure of the inexorable necessities of his unfortunate calling. The +regent's lady ordered one of her servants to give the eighty crowns that +had been assessed as her share at once, for the captains had already paid +down their sixty. The pilgrims were about to give up the whole of their +little hoard, but Roque bade them keep quiet, and turning to his men he +said, "Of these crowns two fall to each man and twenty remain over; let +ten be given to these pilgrims, and the other ten to this worthy squire +that he may be able to speak favourably of this adventure;" and then +having writing materials, with which he always went provided, brought to +him, he gave them in writing a safe-conduct to the leaders of his bands; +and bidding them farewell let them go free and filled with admiration at +his magnanimity, his generous disposition, and his unusual conduct, and +inclined to regard him as an Alexander the Great rather than a notorious +robber. + +One of the squires observed in his mixture of Gascon and Catalan, "This +captain of ours would make a better friar than highwayman; if he wants to +be so generous another time, let it be with his own property and not +ours." + +The unlucky wight did not speak so low but that Roque overheard him, and +drawing his sword almost split his head in two, saying, "That is the way +I punish impudent saucy fellows." They were all taken aback, and not one +of them dared to utter a word, such deference did they pay him. Roque +then withdrew to one side and wrote a letter to a friend of his at +Barcelona, telling him that the famous Don Quixote of La Mancha, the +knight-errant of whom there was so much talk, was with him, and was, he +assured him, the drollest and wisest man in the world; and that in four +days from that date, that is to say, on Saint John the Baptist's Day, he +was going to deposit him in full armour mounted on his horse Rocinante, +together with his squire Sancho on an ass, in the middle of the strand of +the city; and bidding him give notice of this to his friends the Niarros, +that they might divert themselves with him. He wished, he said, his +enemies the Cadells could be deprived of this pleasure; but that was +impossible, because the crazes and shrewd sayings of Don Quixote and the +humours of his squire Sancho Panza could not help giving general pleasure +to all the world. He despatched the letter by one of his squires, who, +exchanging the costume of a highwayman for that of a peasant, made his +way into Barcelona and gave it to the person to whom it was directed. + +Chapter LXI. - +Of what happened Don Quixote on entering Barcelona, together with other +matters that partake of the true rather than of the ingenious + +Don Quixote passed three days and three nights with Roque, and had he +passed three hundred years he would have found enough to observe and +wonder at in his mode of life. At daybreak they were in one spot, at +dinner-time in another; sometimes they fled without knowing from whom, at +other times they lay in wait, not knowing for what. They slept standing, +breaking their slumbers to shift from place to place. There was nothing +but sending out spies and scouts, posting sentinels and blowing the +matches of harquebusses, though they carried but few, for almost all used +flintlocks. Roque passed his nights in some place or other apart from his +men, that they might not know where he was, for the many proclamations +the viceroy of Barcelona had issued against his life kept him in fear and +uneasiness, and he did not venture to trust anyone, afraid that even his +own men would kill him or deliver him up to the authorities; of a truth, +a weary miserable life! At length, by unfrequented roads, short cuts, and +secret paths, Roque, Don Quixote, and Sancho, together with six squires, +set out for Barcelona. They reached the strand on Saint John's Eve during +the night; and Roque, after embracing Don Quixote and Sancho (to whom he +presented the ten crowns he had promised but had not until then given), +left them with many expressions of good-will on both sides. + +Roque went back, while Don Quixote remained on horseback, just as he was, +waiting for day, and it was not long before the countenance of the fair +Aurora began to show itself at the balconies of the east, gladdening the +grass and flowers, if not the ear, though to gladden that too there came +at the same moment a sound of clarions and drums, and a din of bells, and +a tramp, tramp, and cries of "Clear the way there!" of some runners, that +seemed to issue from the city. + +The dawn made way for the sun that with a face broader than a buckler +began to rise slowly above the low line of the horizon; Don Quixote and +Sancho gazed all round them; they beheld the sea, a sight until then +unseen by them; it struck them as exceedingly spacious and broad, much +more so than the lakes of Ruidera which they had seen in La Mancha. They +saw the galleys along the beach, which, lowering their awnings, displayed +themselves decked with streamers and pennons that trembled in the breeze +and kissed and swept the water, while on board the bugles, trumpets, and +clarions were sounding and filling the air far and near with melodious +warlike notes. Then they began to move and execute a kind of skirmish +upon the calm water, while a vast number of horsemen on fine horses and +in showy liveries, issuing from the city, engaged on their side in a +somewhat similar movement. The soldiers on board the galleys kept up a +ceaseless fire, which they on the walls and forts of the city returned, +and the heavy cannon rent the air with the tremendous noise they made, to +which the gangway guns of the galleys replied. The bright sea, the +smiling earth, the clear air--though at times darkened by the smoke of +the guns--all seemed to fill the whole multitude with unexpected delight. +Sancho could not make out how it was that those great masses that moved +over the sea had so many feet. + +And now the horsemen in livery came galloping up with shouts and +outlandish cries and cheers to where Don Quixote stood amazed and +wondering; and one of them, he to whom Roque had sent word, addressing +him exclaimed, "Welcome to our city, mirror, beacon, star and cynosure of +all knight-errantry in its widest extent! Welcome, I say, valiant Don +Quixote of La Mancha; not the false, the fictitious, the apocryphal, that +these latter days have offered us in lying histories, but the true, the +legitimate, the real one that Cide Hamete Benengeli, flower of +historians, has described to us!" + +Don Quixote made no answer, nor did the horsemen wait for one, but +wheeling again with all their followers, they began curvetting round Don +Quixote, who, turning to Sancho, said, "These gentlemen have plainly +recognised us; I will wager they have read our history, and even that +newly printed one by the Aragonese." + +The cavalier who had addressed Don Quixote again approached him and said, +"Come with us, Senor Don Quixote, for we are all of us your servants and +great friends of Roque Guinart's;" to which Don Quixote returned, "If +courtesy breeds courtesy, yours, sir knight, is daughter or very nearly +akin to the great Roque's; carry me where you please; I will have no will +but yours, especially if you deign to employ it in your service." + +The cavalier replied with words no less polite, and then, all closing in +around him, they set out with him for the city, to the music of the +clarions and the drums. As they were entering it, the wicked one, who is +the author of all mischief, and the boys who are wickeder than the wicked +one, contrived that a couple of these audacious irrepressible urchins +should force their way through the crowd, and lifting up, one of them +Dapple's tail and the other Rocinante's, insert a bunch of furze under +each. The poor beasts felt the strange spurs and added to their anguish +by pressing their tails tight, so much so that, cutting a multitude of +capers, they flung their masters to the ground. Don Quixote, covered with +shame and out of countenance, ran to pluck the plume from his poor jade's +tail, while Sancho did the same for Dapple. His conductors tried to +punish the audacity of the boys, but there was no possibility of doing +so, for they hid themselves among the hundreds of others that were +following them. Don Quixote and Sancho mounted once more, and with the +same music and acclamations reached their conductor's house, which was +large and stately, that of a rich gentleman, in short; and there for the +present we will leave them, for such is Cide Hamete's pleasure. + +Chapter LXII. - +Which deals with the adventure of the enchanted head, together with other +trivial matters which cannot be left untold + +Don Quixote's host was one Don Antonio Moreno by name, a gentleman of +wealth and intelligence, and very fond of diverting himself in any fair +and good-natured way; and having Don Quixote in his house he set about +devising modes of making him exhibit his mad points in some harmless +fashion; for jests that give pain are no jests, and no sport is worth +anything if it hurts another. The first thing he did was to make Don +Quixote take off his armour, and lead him, in that tight chamois suit we +have already described and depicted more than once, out on a balcony +overhanging one of the chief streets of the city, in full view of the +crowd and of the boys, who gazed at him as they would at a monkey. The +cavaliers in livery careered before him again as though it were for him +alone, and not to enliven the festival of the day, that they wore it, and +Sancho was in high delight, for it seemed to him that, how he knew not, +he had fallen upon another Camacho's wedding, another house like Don +Diego de Miranda's, another castle like the duke's. Some of Don Antonio's +friends dined with him that day, and all showed honour to Don Quixote and +treated him as a knight-errant, and he becoming puffed up and exalted in +consequence could not contain himself for satisfaction. Such were the +drolleries of Sancho that all the servants of the house, and all who +heard him, were kept hanging upon his lips. While at table Don Antonio +said to him, "We hear, worthy Sancho, that you are so fond of manjar +blanco and forced-meat balls, that if you have any left, you keep them in +your bosom for the next day." + +"No, senor, that's not true," said Sancho, "for I am more cleanly than +greedy, and my master Don Quixote here knows well that we two are used to +live for a week on a handful of acorns or nuts. To be sure, if it so +happens that they offer me a heifer, I run with a halter; I mean, I eat +what I'm given, and make use of opportunities as I find them; but whoever +says that I'm an out-of-the-way eater or not cleanly, let me tell him +that he is wrong; and I'd put it in a different way if I did not respect +the honourable beards that are at the table." + +"Indeed," said Don Quixote, "Sancho's moderation and cleanliness in +eating might be inscribed and graved on plates of brass, to be kept in +eternal remembrance in ages to come. It is true that when he is hungry +there is a certain appearance of voracity about him, for he eats at a +great pace and chews with both jaws; but cleanliness he is always mindful +of; and when he was governor he learned how to eat daintily, so much so +that he eats grapes, and even pomegranate pips, with a fork." + +"What!" said Don Antonio, "has Sancho been a governor?" + +"Ay," said Sancho, "and of an island called Barataria. I governed it to +perfection for ten days; and lost my rest all the time; and learned to +look down upon all the governments in the world; I got out of it by +taking to flight, and fell into a pit where I gave myself up for dead, +and out of which I escaped alive by a miracle." + +Don Quixote then gave them a minute account of the whole affair of +Sancho's government, with which he greatly amused his hearers. + +On the cloth being removed Don Antonio, taking Don Quixote by the hand, +passed with him into a distant room in which there was nothing in the way +of furniture except a table, apparently of jasper, resting on a pedestal +of the same, upon which was set up, after the fashion of the busts of the +Roman emperors, a head which seemed to be of bronze. Don Antonio +traversed the whole apartment with Don Quixote and walked round the table +several times, and then said, "Now, Senor Don Quixote, that I am +satisfied that no one is listening to us, and that the door is shut, I +will tell you of one of the rarest adventures, or more properly speaking +strange things, that can be imagined, on condition that you will keep +what I say to you in the remotest recesses of secrecy." + +"I swear it," said Don Quixote, "and for greater security I will put a +flag-stone over it; for I would have you know, Senor Don Antonio" (he had +by this time learned his name), "that you are addressing one who, though +he has ears to hear, has no tongue to speak; so that you may safely +transfer whatever you have in your bosom into mine, and rely upon it that +you have consigned it to the depths of silence." + +"In reliance upon that promise," said Don Antonio, "I will astonish you +with what you shall see and hear, and relieve myself of some of the +vexation it gives me to have no one to whom I can confide my secrets, for +they are not of a sort to be entrusted to everybody." + +Don Quixote was puzzled, wondering what could be the object of such +precautions; whereupon Don Antonio taking his hand passed it over the +bronze head and the whole table and the pedestal of jasper on which it +stood, and then said, "This head, Senor Don Quixote, has been made and +fabricated by one of the greatest magicians and wizards the world ever +saw, a Pole, I believe, by birth, and a pupil of the famous Escotillo of +whom such marvellous stories are told. He was here in my house, and for a +consideration of a thousand crowns that I gave him he constructed this +head, which has the property and virtue of answering whatever questions +are put to its ear. He observed the points of the compass, he traced +figures, he studied the stars, he watched favourable moments, and at +length brought it to the perfection we shall see to-morrow, for on +Fridays it is mute, and this being Friday we must wait till the next day. +In the interval your worship may consider what you would like to ask it; +and I know by experience that in all its answers it tells the truth." + +Don Quixote was amazed at the virtue and property of the head, and was +inclined to disbelieve Don Antonio; but seeing what a short time he had +to wait to test the matter, he did not choose to say anything except that +he thanked him for having revealed to him so mighty a secret. They then +quitted the room, Don Antonio locked the door, and they repaired to the +chamber where the rest of the gentlemen were assembled. In the meantime +Sancho had recounted to them several of the adventures and accidents that +had happened his master. + +That afternoon they took Don Quixote out for a stroll, not in his armour +but in street costume, with a surcoat of tawny cloth upon him, that at +that season would have made ice itself sweat. Orders were left with the +servants to entertain Sancho so as not to let him leave the house. Don +Quixote was mounted, not on Rocinante, but upon a tall mule of easy pace +and handsomely caparisoned. They put the surcoat on him, and on the back, +without his perceiving it, they stitched a parchment on which they wrote +in large letters, "This is Don Quixote of La Mancha." As they set out +upon their excursion the placard attracted the eyes of all who chanced to +see him, and as they read out, "This is Don Quixote of La Mancha," Don +Quixote was amazed to see how many people gazed at him, called him by his +name, and recognised him, and turning to Don Antonio, who rode at his +side, he observed to him, "Great are the privileges knight-errantry +involves, for it makes him who professes it known and famous in every +region of the earth; see, Don Antonio, even the very boys of this city +know me without ever having seen me." + +"True, Senor Don Quixote," returned Don Antonio; "for as fire cannot be +hidden or kept secret, virtue cannot escape being recognised; and that +which is attained by the profession of arms shines distinguished above +all others." + +It came to pass, however, that as Don Quixote was proceeding amid the +acclamations that have been described, a Castilian, reading the +inscription on his back, cried out in a loud voice, "The devil take thee +for a Don Quixote of La Mancha! What! art thou here, and not dead of the +countless drubbings that have fallen on thy ribs? Thou art mad; and if +thou wert so by thyself, and kept thyself within thy madness, it would +not be so bad; but thou hast the gift of making fools and blockheads of +all who have anything to do with thee or say to thee. Why, look at these +gentlemen bearing thee company! Get thee home, blockhead, and see after +thy affairs, and thy wife and children, and give over these fooleries +that are sapping thy brains and skimming away thy wits." + +"Go your own way, brother," said Don Antonio, "and don't offer advice to +those who don't ask you for it. Senor Don Quixote is in his full senses, +and we who bear him company are not fools; virtue is to be honoured +wherever it may be found; go, and bad luck to you, and don't meddle where +you are not wanted." + +"By God, your worship is right," replied the Castilian; "for to advise +this good man is to kick against the pricks; still for all that it fills +me with pity that the sound wit they say the blockhead has in everything +should dribble away by the channel of his knight-errantry; but may the +bad luck your worship talks of follow me and all my descendants, if, from +this day forth, though I should live longer than Methuselah, I ever give +advice to anybody even if he asks me for it." + +The advice-giver took himself off, and they continued their stroll; but +so great was the press of the boys and people to read the placard, that +Don Antonio was forced to remove it as if he were taking off something +else. + +Night came and they went home, and there was a ladies' dancing party, for +Don Antonio's wife, a lady of rank and gaiety, beauty and wit, had +invited some friends of hers to come and do honour to her guest and amuse +themselves with his strange delusions. Several of them came, they supped +sumptuously, the dance began at about ten o'clock. Among the ladies were +two of a mischievous and frolicsome turn, and, though perfectly modest, +somewhat free in playing tricks for harmless diversion sake. These two +were so indefatigable in taking Don Quixote out to dance that they tired +him down, not only in body but in spirit. It was a sight to see the +figure Don Quixote made, long, lank, lean, and yellow, his garments +clinging tight to him, ungainly, and above all anything but agile. + +The gay ladies made secret love to him, and he on his part secretly +repelled them, but finding himself hard pressed by their blandishments he +lifted up his voice and exclaimed, "Fugite, partes adversae! Leave me in +peace, unwelcome overtures; avaunt, with your desires, ladies, for she +who is queen of mine, the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, suffers none but +hers to lead me captive and subdue me;" and so saying he sat down on the +floor in the middle of the room, tired out and broken down by all this +exertion in the dance. + +Don Antonio directed him to be taken up bodily and carried to bed, and +the first that laid hold of him was Sancho, saying as he did so, "In an +evil hour you took to dancing, master mine; do you fancy all mighty men +of valour are dancers, and all knights-errant given to capering? If you +do, I can tell you you are mistaken; there's many a man would rather +undertake to kill a giant than cut a caper. If it had been the shoe-fling +you were at I could take your place, for I can do the shoe-fling like a +gerfalcon; but I'm no good at dancing." + +With these and other observations Sancho set the whole ball-room +laughing, and then put his master to bed, covering him up well so that he +might sweat out any chill caught after his dancing. + +The next day Don Antonio thought he might as well make trial of the +enchanted head, and with Don Quixote, Sancho, and two others, friends of +his, besides the two ladies that had tired out Don Quixote at the ball, +who had remained for the night with Don Antonio's wife, he locked himself +up in the chamber where the head was. He explained to them the property +it possessed and entrusted the secret to them, telling them that now for +the first time he was going to try the virtue of the enchanted head; but +except Don Antonio's two friends no one else was privy to the mystery of +the enchantment, and if Don Antonio had not first revealed it to them +they would have been inevitably reduced to the same state of amazement as +the rest, so artfully and skilfully was it contrived. + +The first to approach the ear of the head was Don Antonio himself, and in +a low voice but not so low as not to be audible to all, he said to it, +"Head, tell me by the virtue that lies in thee what am I at this moment +thinking of?" + +The head, without any movement of the lips, answered in a clear and +distinct voice, so as to be heard by all, "I cannot judge of thoughts." + +All were thunderstruck at this, and all the more so as they saw that +there was nobody anywhere near the table or in the whole room that could +have answered. "How many of us are here?" asked Don Antonio once more; +and it was answered him in the same way softly, "Thou and thy wife, with +two friends of thine and two of hers, and a famous knight called Don +Quixote of La Mancha, and a squire of his, Sancho Panza by name." + +Now there was fresh astonishment; now everyone's hair was standing on end +with awe; and Don Antonio retiring from the head exclaimed, "This +suffices to show me that I have not been deceived by him who sold thee to +me, O sage head, talking head, answering head, wonderful head! Let some +one else go and put what question he likes to it." + +And as women are commonly impulsive and inquisitive, the first to come +forward was one of the two friends of Don Antonio's wife, and her +question was, "Tell me, Head, what shall I do to be very beautiful?" and +the answer she got was, "Be very modest." + +"I question thee no further," said the fair querist. + +Her companion then came up and said, "I should like to know, Head, +whether my husband loves me or not;" the answer given to her was, "Think +how he uses thee, and thou mayest guess;" and the married lady went off +saying, "That answer did not need a question; for of course the treatment +one receives shows the disposition of him from whom it is received." + +Then one of Don Antonio's two friends advanced and asked it, "Who am I?" +"Thou knowest," was the answer. "That is not what I ask thee," said the +gentleman, "but to tell me if thou knowest me." "Yes, I know thee, thou +art Don Pedro Noriz," was the reply. + +"I do not seek to know more," said the gentleman, "for this is enough to +convince me, O Head, that thou knowest everything;" and as he retired the +other friend came forward and asked it, "Tell me, Head, what are the +wishes of my eldest son?" + +"I have said already," was the answer, "that I cannot judge of wishes; +however, I can tell thee the wish of thy son is to bury thee." + +"That's 'what I see with my eyes I point out with my finger,'" said the +gentleman, "so I ask no more." + +Don Antonio's wife came up and said, "I know not what to ask thee, Head; +I would only seek to know of thee if I shall have many years of enjoyment +of my good husband;" and the answer she received was, "Thou shalt, for +his vigour and his temperate habits promise many years of life, which by +their intemperance others so often cut short." + +Then Don Quixote came forward and said, "Tell me, thou that answerest, +was that which I describe as having happened to me in the cave of +Montesinos the truth or a dream? Will Sancho's whipping be accomplished +without fail? Will the disenchantment of Dulcinea be brought about?" + +"As to the question of the cave," was the reply, "there is much to be +said; there is something of both in it. Sancho's whipping will proceed +leisurely. The disenchantment of Dulcinea will attain its due +consummation." + +"I seek to know no more," said Don Quixote; "let me but see Dulcinea +disenchanted, and I will consider that all the good fortune I could wish +for has come upon me all at once." + +The last questioner was Sancho, and his questions were, "Head, shall I by +any chance have another government? Shall I ever escape from the hard +life of a squire? Shall I get back to see my wife and children?" To which +the answer came, "Thou shalt govern in thy house; and if thou returnest +to it thou shalt see thy wife and children; and on ceasing to serve thou +shalt cease to be a squire." + +"Good, by God!" said Sancho Panza; "I could have told myself that; the +prophet Perogrullo could have said no more." + +"What answer wouldst thou have, beast?" said Don Quixote; "is it not +enough that the replies this head has given suit the questions put to +it?" + +"Yes, it is enough," said Sancho; "but I should have liked it to have +made itself plainer and told me more." + +The questions and answers came to an end here, but not the wonder with +which all were filled, except Don Antonio's two friends who were in the +secret. This Cide Hamete Benengeli thought fit to reveal at once, not to +keep the world in suspense, fancying that the head had some strange +magical mystery in it. He says, therefore, that on the model of another +head, the work of an image maker, which he had seen at Madrid, Don +Antonio made this one at home for his own amusement and to astonish +ignorant people; and its mechanism was as follows. The table was of wood +painted and varnished to imitate jasper, and the pedestal on which it +stood was of the same material, with four eagles' claws projecting from +it to support the weight more steadily. The head, which resembled a bust +or figure of a Roman emperor, and was coloured like bronze, was hollow +throughout, as was the table, into which it was fitted so exactly that no +trace of the joining was visible. The pedestal of the table was also +hollow and communicated with the throat and neck of the head, and the +whole was in communication with another room underneath the chamber in +which the head stood. Through the entire cavity in the pedestal, table, +throat and neck of the bust or figure, there passed a tube of tin +carefully adjusted and concealed from sight. In the room below +corresponding to the one above was placed the person who was to answer, +with his mouth to the tube, and the voice, as in an ear-trumpet, passed +from above downwards, and from below upwards, the words coming clearly +and distinctly; it was impossible, thus, to detect the trick. A nephew of +Don Antonio's, a smart sharp-witted student, was the answerer, and as he +had been told beforehand by his uncle who the persons were that would +come with him that day into the chamber where the head was, it was an +easy matter for him to answer the first question at once and correctly; +the others he answered by guess-work, and, being clever, cleverly. Cide +Hamete adds that this marvellous contrivance stood for some ten or twelve +days; but that, as it became noised abroad through the city that he had +in his house an enchanted head that answered all who asked questions of +it, Don Antonio, fearing it might come to the ears of the watchful +sentinels of our faith, explained the matter to the inquisitors, who +commanded him to break it up and have done with it, lest the ignorant +vulgar should be scandalised. By Don Quixote, however, and by Sancho the +head was still held to be an enchanted one, and capable of answering +questions, though more to Don Quixote's satisfaction than Sancho's. + +The gentlemen of the city, to gratify Don Antonio and also to do the +honours to Don Quixote, and give him an opportunity of displaying his +folly, made arrangements for a tilting at the ring in six days from that +time, which, however, for reason that will be mentioned hereafter, did +not take place. + +Don Quixote took a fancy to stroll about the city quietly and on foot, +for he feared that if he went on horseback the boys would follow him; so +he and Sancho and two servants that Don Antonio gave him set out for a +walk. Thus it came to pass that going along one of the streets Don +Quixote lifted up his eyes and saw written in very large letters over a +door, "Books printed here," at which he was vastly pleased, for until +then he had never seen a printing office, and he was curious to know what +it was like. He entered with all his following, and saw them drawing +sheets in one place, correcting in another, setting up type here, +revising there; in short all the work that is to be seen in great +printing offices. He went up to one case and asked what they were about +there; the workmen told him, he watched them with wonder, and passed on. +He approached one man, among others, and asked him what he was doing. The +workman replied, "Senor, this gentleman here" (pointing to a man of +prepossessing appearance and a certain gravity of look) "has translated +an Italian book into our Spanish tongue, and I am setting it up in type +for the press." + +"What is the title of the book?" asked Don Quixote; to which the author +replied, "Senor, in Italian the book is called Le Bagatelle." + +"And what does Le Bagatelle import in our Spanish?" asked Don Quixote. + +"Le Bagatelle," said the author, "is as though we should say in Spanish +Los Juguetes; but though the book is humble in name it has good solid +matter in it." + +"I," said Don Quixote, "have some little smattering of Italian, and I +plume myself on singing some of Ariosto's stanzas; but tell me, senor--I +do not say this to test your ability, but merely out of curiosity--have +you ever met with the word pignatta in your book?" + +"Yes, often," said the author. + +"And how do you render that in Spanish?" + +"How should I render it," returned the author, "but by olla?" + +"Body o' me," exclaimed Don Quixote, "what a proficient you are in the +Italian language! I would lay a good wager that where they say in Italian +piace you say in Spanish place, and where they say piu you say mas, and +you translate su by arriba and giu by abajo." + +"I translate them so of course," said the author, "for those are their +proper equivalents." + +"I would venture to swear," said Don Quixote, "that your worship is not +known in the world, which always begrudges their reward to rare wits and +praiseworthy labours. What talents lie wasted there! What genius thrust +away into corners! What worth left neglected! Still it seems to me that +translation from one language into another, if it be not from the queens +of languages, the Greek and the Latin, is like looking at Flemish +tapestries on the wrong side; for though the figures are visible, they +are full of threads that make them indistinct, and they do not show with +the smoothness and brightness of the right side; and translation from +easy languages argues neither ingenuity nor command of words, any more +than transcribing or copying out one document from another. But I do not +mean by this to draw the inference that no credit is to be allowed for +the work of translating, for a man may employ himself in ways worse and +less profitable to himself. This estimate does not include two famous +translators, Doctor Cristobal de Figueroa, in his Pastor Fido, and Don +Juan de Jauregui, in his Aminta, wherein by their felicity they leave it +in doubt which is the translation and which the original. But tell me, +are you printing this book at your own risk, or have you sold the +copyright to some bookseller?" + +"I print at my own risk," said the author, "and I expect to make a +thousand ducats at least by this first edition, which is to be of two +thousand copies that will go off in a twinkling at six reals apiece." + +"A fine calculation you are making!" said Don Quixote; "it is plain you +don't know the ins and outs of the printers, and how they play into one +another's hands. I promise you when you find yourself saddled with two +thousand copies you will feel so sore that it will astonish you, +particularly if the book is a little out of the common and not in any way +highly spiced." + +"What!" said the author, "would your worship, then, have me give it to a +bookseller who will give three maravedis for the copyright and think he +is doing me a favour? I do not print my books to win fame in the world, +for I am known in it already by my works; I want to make money, without +which reputation is not worth a rap." + +"God send your worship good luck," said Don Quixote; and he moved on to +another case, where he saw them correcting a sheet of a book with the +title of "Light of the Soul;" noticing it he observed, "Books like this, +though there are many of the kind, are the ones that deserve to be +printed, for many are the sinners in these days, and lights unnumbered +are needed for all that are in darkness." + +He passed on, and saw they were also correcting another book, and when he +asked its title they told him it was called, "The Second Part of the +Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha," by one of Tordesillas. + +"I have heard of this book already," said Don Quixote, "and verily and on +my conscience I thought it had been by this time burned to ashes as a +meddlesome intruder; but its Martinmas will come to it as it does to +every pig; for fictions have the more merit and charm about them the more +nearly they approach the truth or what looks like it; and true stories, +the truer they are the better they are;" and so saying he walked out of +the printing office with a certain amount of displeasure in his looks. +That same day Don Antonio arranged to take him to see the galleys that +lay at the beach, whereat Sancho was in high delight, as he had never +seen any all his life. Don Antonio sent word to the commandant of the +galleys that he intended to bring his guest, the famous Don Quixote of La +Mancha, of whom the commandant and all the citizens had already heard, +that afternoon to see them; and what happened on board of them will be +told in the next chapter. + +Chapter LXIII. - +Of the mishap that befell Sancho Panza through the visit to the galleys, +and the strange adventure of the fair Morisco + +Profound were Don Quixote's reflections on the reply of the enchanted +head, not one of them, however, hitting on the secret of the trick, but +all concentrated on the promise, which he regarded as a certainty, of +Dulcinea's disenchantment. This he turned over in his mind again and +again with great satisfaction, fully persuaded that he would shortly see +its fulfillment; and as for Sancho, though, as has been said, he hated +being a governor, still he had a longing to be giving orders and finding +himself obeyed once more; this is the misfortune that being in authority, +even in jest, brings with it. + +To resume; that afternoon their host Don Antonio Moreno and his two +friends, with Don Quixote and Sancho, went to the galleys. The commandant +had been already made aware of his good fortune in seeing two such famous +persons as Don Quixote and Sancho, and the instant they came to the shore +all the galleys struck their awnings and the clarions rang out. A skiff +covered with rich carpets and cushions of crimson velvet was immediately +lowered into the water, and as Don Quixote stepped on board of it, the +leading galley fired her gangway gun, and the other galleys did the same; +and as he mounted the starboard ladder the whole crew saluted him (as is +the custom when a personage of distinction comes on board a galley) by +exclaiming "Hu, hu, hu," three times. The general, for so we shall call +him, a Valencian gentleman of rank, gave him his hand and embraced him, +saying, "I shall mark this day with a white stone as one of the happiest +I can expect to enjoy in my lifetime, since I have seen Senor Don Quixote +of La Mancha, pattern and image wherein we see contained and condensed +all that is worthy in knight-errantry." + +Don Quixote delighted beyond measure with such a lordly reception, +replied to him in words no less courteous. All then proceeded to the +poop, which was very handsomely decorated, and seated themselves on the +bulwark benches; the boatswain passed along the gangway and piped all +hands to strip, which they did in an instant. Sancho, seeing such a +number of men stripped to the skin, was taken aback, and still more when +he saw them spread the awning so briskly that it seemed to him as if all +the devils were at work at it; but all this was cakes and fancy bread to +what I am going to tell now. Sancho was seated on the captain's stage, +close to the aftermost rower on the right-hand side. He, previously +instructed in what he was to do, laid hold of Sancho, hoisting him up in +his arms, and the whole crew, who were standing ready, beginning on the +right, proceeded to pass him on, whirling him along from hand to hand and +from bench to bench with such rapidity that it took the sight out of poor +Sancho's eyes, and he made quite sure that the devils themselves were +flying away with him; nor did they leave off with him until they had sent +him back along the left side and deposited him on the poop; and the poor +fellow was left bruised and breathless and all in a sweat, and unable to +comprehend what it was that had happened to him. + +Don Quixote when he saw Sancho's flight without wings asked the general +if this was a usual ceremony with those who came on board the galleys for +the first time; for, if so, as he had no intention of adopting them as a +profession, he had no mind to perform such feats of agility, and if +anyone offered to lay hold of him to whirl him about, he vowed to God he +would kick his soul out; and as he said this he stood up and clapped his +hand upon his sword. At this instant they struck the awning and lowered +the yard with a prodigious rattle. Sancho thought heaven was coming off +its hinges and going to fall on his head, and full of terror he ducked it +and buried it between his knees; nor were Don Quixote's knees altogether +under control, for he too shook a little, squeezed his shoulders together +and lost colour. The crew then hoisted the yard with the same rapidity +and clatter as when they lowered it, all the while keeping silence as +though they had neither voice nor breath. The boatswain gave the signal +to weigh anchor, and leaping upon the middle of the gangway began to lay +on to the shoulders of the crew with his courbash or whip, and to haul +out gradually to sea. + +When Sancho saw so many red feet (for such he took the oars to be) moving +all together, he said to himself, "It's these that are the real chanted +things, and not the ones my master talks of. What can those wretches have +done to be so whipped; and how does that one man who goes along there +whistling dare to whip so many? I declare this is hell, or at least +purgatory!" + +Don Quixote, observing how attentively Sancho regarded what was going on, +said to him, "Ah, Sancho my friend, how quickly and cheaply might you +finish off the disenchantment of Dulcinea, if you would strip to the +waist and take your place among those gentlemen! Amid the pain and +sufferings of so many you would not feel your own much; and moreover +perhaps the sage Merlin would allow each of these lashes, being laid on +with a good hand, to count for ten of those which you must give yourself +at last." + +The general was about to ask what these lashes were, and what was +Dulcinea's disenchantment, when a sailor exclaimed, "Monjui signals that +there is an oared vessel off the coast to the west." + +On hearing this the general sprang upon the gangway crying, "Now then, my +sons, don't let her give us the slip! It must be some Algerine corsair +brigantine that the watchtower signals to us." The three others +immediately came alongside the chief galley to receive their orders. The +general ordered two to put out to sea while he with the other kept in +shore, so that in this way the vessel could not escape them. The crews +plied the oars driving the galleys so furiously that they seemed to fly. +The two that had put out to sea, after a couple of miles sighted a vessel +which, so far as they could make out, they judged to be one of fourteen +or fifteen banks, and so she proved. As soon as the vessel discovered the +galleys she went about with the object and in the hope of making her +escape by her speed; but the attempt failed, for the chief galley was one +of the fastest vessels afloat, and overhauled her so rapidly that they on +board the brigantine saw clearly there was no possibility of escaping, +and the rais therefore would have had them drop their oars and give +themselves up so as not to provoke the captain in command of our galleys +to anger. But chance, directing things otherwise, so ordered it that just +as the chief galley came close enough for those on board the vessel to +hear the shouts from her calling on them to surrender, two Toraquis, that +is to say two Turks, both drunken, that with a dozen more were on board +the brigantine, discharged their muskets, killing two of the soldiers +that lined the sides of our vessel. Seeing this the general swore he +would not leave one of those he found on board the vessel alive, but as +he bore down furiously upon her she slipped away from him underneath the +oars. The galley shot a good way ahead; those on board the vessel saw +their case was desperate, and while the galley was coming about they made +sail, and by sailing and rowing once more tried to sheer off; but their +activity did not do them as much good as their rashness did them harm, +for the galley coming up with them in a little more than half a mile +threw her oars over them and took the whole of them alive. The other two +galleys now joined company and all four returned with the prize to the +beach, where a vast multitude stood waiting for them, eager to see what +they brought back. The general anchored close in, and perceived that the +viceroy of the city was on the shore. He ordered the skiff to push off to +fetch him, and the yard to be lowered for the purpose of hanging +forthwith the rais and the rest of the men taken on board the vessel, +about six-and-thirty in number, all smart fellows and most of them +Turkish musketeers. He asked which was the rais of the brigantine, and +was answered in Spanish by one of the prisoners (who afterwards proved to +be a Spanish renegade), "This young man, senor that you see here is our +rais," and he pointed to one of the handsomest and most gallant-looking +youths that could be imagined. He did not seem to be twenty years of age. + +"Tell me, dog," said the general, "what led thee to kill my soldiers, +when thou sawest it was impossible for thee to escape? Is that the way to +behave to chief galleys? Knowest thou not that rashness is not valour? +Faint prospects of success should make men bold, but not rash." + +The rais was about to reply, but the general could not at that moment +listen to him, as he had to hasten to receive the viceroy, who was now +coming on board the galley, and with him certain of his attendants and +some of the people. + +"You have had a good chase, senor general," said the viceroy. + +"Your excellency shall soon see how good, by the game strung up to this +yard," replied the general. + +"How so?" returned the viceroy. + +"Because," said the general, "against all law, reason, and usages of war +they have killed on my hands two of the best soldiers on board these +galleys, and I have sworn to hang every man that I have taken, but above +all this youth who is the rais of the brigantine," and he pointed to him +as he stood with his hands already bound and the rope round his neck, +ready for death. + +The viceroy looked at him, and seeing him so well-favoured, so graceful, +and so submissive, he felt a desire to spare his life, the comeliness of +the youth furnishing him at once with a letter of recommendation. He +therefore questioned him, saying, "Tell me, rais, art thou Turk, Moor, or +renegade?" + +To which the youth replied, also in Spanish, "I am neither Turk, nor +Moor, nor renegade." + +"What art thou, then?" said the viceroy. + +"A Christian woman," replied the youth. + +"A woman and a Christian, in such a dress and in such circumstances! It +is more marvellous than credible," said the viceroy. + +"Suspend the execution of the sentence," said the youth; "your vengeance +will not lose much by waiting while I tell you the story of my life." + +What heart could be so hard as not to be softened by these words, at any +rate so far as to listen to what the unhappy youth had to say? The +general bade him say what he pleased, but not to expect pardon for his +flagrant offence. With this permission the youth began in these words. + +"Born of Morisco parents, I am of that nation, more unhappy than wise, +upon which of late a sea of woes has poured down. In the course of our +misfortune I was carried to Barbary by two uncles of mine, for it was in +vain that I declared I was a Christian, as in fact I am, and not a mere +pretended one, or outwardly, but a true Catholic Christian. It availed me +nothing with those charged with our sad expatriation to protest this, nor +would my uncles believe it; on the contrary, they treated it as an +untruth and a subterfuge set up to enable me to remain behind in the land +of my birth; and so, more by force than of my own will, they took me with +them. I had a Christian mother, and a father who was a man of sound sense +and a Christian too; I imbibed the Catholic faith with my mother's milk, +I was well brought up, and neither in word nor in deed did I, I think, +show any sign of being a Morisco. To accompany these virtues, for such I +hold them, my beauty, if I possess any, grew with my growth; and great as +was the seclusion in which I lived it was not so great but that a young +gentleman, Don Gaspar Gregorio by name, eldest son of a gentleman who is +lord of a village near ours, contrived to find opportunities of seeing +me. How he saw me, how we met, how his heart was lost to me, and mine not +kept from him, would take too long to tell, especially at a moment when I +am in dread of the cruel cord that threatens me interposing between +tongue and throat; I will only say, therefore, that Don Gregorio chose to +accompany me in our banishment. He joined company with the Moriscoes who +were going forth from other villages, for he knew their language very +well, and on the voyage he struck up a friendship with my two uncles who +were carrying me with them; for my father, like a wise and far-sighted +man, as soon as he heard the first edict for our expulsion, quitted the +village and departed in quest of some refuge for us abroad. He left +hidden and buried, at a spot of which I alone have knowledge, a large +quantity of pearls and precious stones of great value, together with a +sum of money in gold cruzadoes and doubloons. He charged me on no account +to touch the treasure, if by any chance they expelled us before his +return. I obeyed him, and with my uncles, as I have said, and others of +our kindred and neighbours, passed over to Barbary, and the place where +we took up our abode was Algiers, much the same as if we had taken it up +in hell itself. The king heard of my beauty, and report told him of my +wealth, which was in some degree fortunate for me. He summoned me before +him, and asked me what part of Spain I came from, and what money and +jewels I had. I mentioned the place, and told him the jewels and money +were buried there; but that they might easily be recovered if I myself +went back for them. All this I told him, in dread lest my beauty and not +his own covetousness should influence him. While he was engaged in +conversation with me, they brought him word that in company with me was +one of the handsomest and most graceful youths that could be imagined. I +knew at once that they were speaking of Don Gaspar Gregorio, whose +comeliness surpasses the most highly vaunted beauty. I was troubled when +I thought of the danger he was in, for among those barbarous Turks a fair +youth is more esteemed than a woman, be she ever so beautiful. The king +immediately ordered him to be brought before him that he might see him, +and asked me if what they said about the youth was true. I then, almost +as if inspired by heaven, told him it was, but that I would have him to +know it was not a man, but a woman like myself, and I entreated him to +allow me to go and dress her in the attire proper to her, so that her +beauty might be seen to perfection, and that she might present herself +before him with less embarrassment. He bade me go by all means, and said +that the next day we should discuss the plan to be adopted for my return +to Spain to carry away the hidden treasure. I saw Don Gaspar, I told him +the danger he was in if he let it be seen he was a man, I dressed him as +a Moorish woman, and that same afternoon I brought him before the king, +who was charmed when he saw him, and resolved to keep the damsel and make +a present of her to the Grand Signor; and to avoid the risk she might run +among the women of his seraglio, and distrustful of himself, he commanded +her to be placed in the house of some Moorish ladies of rank who would +protect and attend to her; and thither he was taken at once. What we both +suffered (for I cannot deny that I love him) may be left to the +imagination of those who are separated if they love one another dearly. +The king then arranged that I should return to Spain in this brigantine, +and that two Turks, those who killed your soldiers, should accompany me. +There also came with me this Spanish renegade"--and here she pointed to +him who had first spoken--"whom I know to be secretly a Christian, and to +be more desirous of being left in Spain than of returning to Barbary. The +rest of the crew of the brigantine are Moors and Turks, who merely serve +as rowers. The two Turks, greedy and insolent, instead of obeying the +orders we had to land me and this renegade in Christian dress (with which +we came provided) on the first Spanish ground we came to, chose to run +along the coast and make some prize if they could, fearing that if they +put us ashore first, we might, in case of some accident befalling us, +make it known that the brigantine was at sea, and thus, if there happened +to be any galleys on the coast, they might be taken. We sighted this +shore last night, and knowing nothing of these galleys, we were +discovered, and the result was what you have seen. To sum up, there is +Don Gregorio in woman's dress, among women, in imminent danger of his +life; and here am I, with hands bound, in expectation, or rather in +dread, of losing my life, of which I am already weary. Here, sirs, ends +my sad story, as true as it is unhappy; all I ask of you is to allow me +to die like a Christian, for, as I have already said, I am not to be +charged with the offence of which those of my nation are guilty;" and she +stood silent, her eyes filled with moving tears, accompanied by plenty +from the bystanders. The viceroy, touched with compassion, went up to her +without speaking and untied the cord that bound the hands of the Moorish +girl. + +But all the while the Morisco Christian was telling her strange story, an +elderly pilgrim, who had come on board of the galley at the same time as +the viceroy, kept his eyes fixed upon her; and the instant she ceased +speaking he threw himself at her feet, and embracing them said in a voice +broken by sobs and sighs, "O Ana Felix, my unhappy daughter, I am thy +father Ricote, come back to look for thee, unable to live without thee, +my soul that thou art!" + +At these words of his, Sancho opened his eyes and raised his head, which +he had been holding down, brooding over his unlucky excursion; and +looking at the pilgrim he recognised in him that same Ricote he met the +day he quitted his government, and felt satisfied that this was his +daughter. She being now unbound embraced her father, mingling her tears +with his, while he addressing the general and the viceroy said, "This, +sirs, is my daughter, more unhappy in her adventures than in her name. +She is Ana Felix, surnamed Ricote, celebrated as much for her own beauty +as for my wealth. I quitted my native land in search of some shelter or +refuge for us abroad, and having found one in Germany I returned in this +pilgrim's dress, in the company of some other German pilgrims, to seek my +daughter and take up a large quantity of treasure I had left buried. My +daughter I did not find, the treasure I found and have with me; and now, +in this strange roundabout way you have seen, I find the treasure that +more than all makes me rich, my beloved daughter. If our innocence and +her tears and mine can with strict justice open the door to clemency, +extend it to us, for we never had any intention of injuring you, nor do +we sympathise with the aims of our people, who have been justly +banished." + +"I know Ricote well," said Sancho at this, "and I know too that what he +says about Ana Felix being his daughter is true; but as to those other +particulars about going and coming, and having good or bad intentions, I +say nothing." + +While all present stood amazed at this strange occurrence the general +said, "At any rate your tears will not allow me to keep my oath; live, +fair Ana Felix, all the years that heaven has allotted you; but these +rash insolent fellows must pay the penalty of the crime they have +committed;" and with that he gave orders to have the two Turks who had +killed his two soldiers hanged at once at the yard-arm. The viceroy, +however, begged him earnestly not to hang them, as their behaviour +savoured rather of madness than of bravado. The general yielded to the +viceroy's request, for revenge is not easily taken in cold blood. They +then tried to devise some scheme for rescuing Don Gaspar Gregorio from +the danger in which he had been left. Ricote offered for that object more +than two thousand ducats that he had in pearls and gems; they proposed +several plans, but none so good as that suggested by the renegade already +mentioned, who offered to return to Algiers in a small vessel of about +six banks, manned by Christian rowers, as he knew where, how, and when he +could and should land, nor was he ignorant of the house in which Don +Gaspar was staying. The general and the viceroy had some hesitation about +placing confidence in the renegade and entrusting him with the Christians +who were to row, but Ana Felix said she could answer for him, and her +father offered to go and pay the ransom of the Christians if by any +chance they should not be forthcoming. This, then, being agreed upon, the +viceroy landed, and Don Antonio Moreno took the fair Morisco and her +father home with him, the viceroy charging him to give them the best +reception and welcome in his power, while on his own part he offered all +that house contained for their entertainment; so great was the good-will +and kindliness the beauty of Ana Felix had infused into his heart. + +Chapter LXIV. - +Treating of the adventure which gave Don Quixote more unhappiness than +all that had hitherto befallen him + +The wife of Don Antonio Moreno, so the history says, was extremely happy +to see Ana Felix in her house. She welcomed her with great kindness, +charmed as well by her beauty as by her intelligence; for in both +respects the fair Morisco was richly endowed, and all the people of the +city flocked to see her as though they had been summoned by the ringing +of the bells. + +Don Quixote told Don Antonio that the plan adopted for releasing Don +Gregorio was not a good one, for its risks were greater than its +advantages, and that it would be better to land himself with his arms and +horse in Barbary; for he would carry him off in spite of the whole +Moorish host, as Don Gaiferos carried off his wife Melisendra. + +"Remember, your worship," observed Sancho on hearing him say so, "Senor +Don Gaiferos carried off his wife from the mainland, and took her to +France by land; but in this case, if by chance we carry off Don Gregorio, +we have no way of bringing him to Spain, for there's the sea between." + +"There's a remedy for everything except death," said Don Quixote; "if +they bring the vessel close to the shore we shall be able to get on board +though all the world strive to prevent us." + +"Your worship hits it off mighty well and mighty easy," said Sancho; "but +'it's a long step from saying to doing;' and I hold to the renegade, for +he seems to me an honest good-hearted fellow." + +Don Antonio then said that if the renegade did not prove successful, the +expedient of the great Don Quixote's expedition to Barbary should be +adopted. Two days afterwards the renegade put to sea in a light vessel of +six oars a-side manned by a stout crew, and two days later the galleys +made sail eastward, the general having begged the viceroy to let him know +all about the release of Don Gregorio and about Ana Felix, and the +viceroy promised to do as he requested. + +One morning as Don Quixote went out for a stroll along the beach, arrayed +in full armour (for, as he often said, that was "his only gear, his only +rest the fray," and he never was without it for a moment), he saw coming +towards him a knight, also in full armour, with a shining moon painted on +his shield, who, on approaching sufficiently near to be heard, said in a +loud voice, addressing himself to Don Quixote, "Illustrious knight, and +never sufficiently extolled Don Quixote of La Mancha, I am the Knight of +the White Moon, whose unheard-of achievements will perhaps have recalled +him to thy memory. I come to do battle with thee and prove the might of +thy arm, to the end that I make thee acknowledge and confess that my +lady, let her be who she may, is incomparably fairer than thy Dulcinea +del Toboso. If thou dost acknowledge this fairly and openly, thou shalt +escape death and save me the trouble of inflicting it upon thee; if thou +fightest and I vanquish thee, I demand no other satisfaction than that, +laying aside arms and abstaining from going in quest of adventures, thou +withdraw and betake thyself to thine own village for the space of a year, +and live there without putting hand to sword, in peace and quiet and +beneficial repose, the same being needful for the increase of thy +substance and the salvation of thy soul; and if thou dost vanquish me, my +head shall be at thy disposal, my arms and horse thy spoils, and the +renown of my deeds transferred and added to thine. Consider which will be +thy best course, and give me thy answer speedily, for this day is all the +time I have for the despatch of this business." + +Don Quixote was amazed and astonished, as well at the Knight of the White +Moon's arrogance, as at his reason for delivering the defiance, and with +calm dignity he answered him, "Knight of the White Moon, of whose +achievements I have never heard until now, I will venture to swear you +have never seen the illustrious Dulcinea; for had you seen her I know you +would have taken care not to venture yourself upon this issue, because +the sight would have removed all doubt from your mind that there ever has +been or can be a beauty to be compared with hers; and so, not saying you +lie, but merely that you are not correct in what you state, I accept your +challenge, with the conditions you have proposed, and at once, that the +day you have fixed may not expire; and from your conditions I except only +that of the renown of your achievements being transferred to me, for I +know not of what sort they are nor what they may amount to; I am +satisfied with my own, such as they be. Take, therefore, the side of the +field you choose, and I will do the same; and to whom God shall give it +may Saint Peter add his blessing." + +The Knight of the White Moon had been seen from the city, and it was told +the viceroy how he was in conversation with Don Quixote. The viceroy, +fancying it must be some fresh adventure got up by Don Antonio Moreno or +some other gentleman of the city, hurried out at once to the beach +accompanied by Don Antonio and several other gentlemen, just as Don +Quixote was wheeling Rocinante round in order to take up the necessary +distance. The viceroy upon this, seeing that the pair of them were +evidently preparing to come to the charge, put himself between them, +asking them what it was that led them to engage in combat all of a sudden +in this way. The Knight of the White Moon replied that it was a question +of precedence of beauty; and briefly told him what he had said to Don +Quixote, and how the conditions of the defiance agreed upon on both sides +had been accepted. The viceroy went over to Don Antonio, and asked in a +low voice did he know who the Knight of the White Moon was, or was it +some joke they were playing on Don Quixote. Don Antonio replied that he +neither knew who he was nor whether the defiance was in joke or in +earnest. This answer left the viceroy in a state of perplexity, not +knowing whether he ought to let the combat go on or not; but unable to +persuade himself that it was anything but a joke he fell back, saying, +"If there be no other way out of it, gallant knights, except to confess +or die, and Don Quixote is inflexible, and your worship of the White Moon +still more so, in God's hand be it, and fall on." + +He of the White Moon thanked the viceroy in courteous and well-chosen +words for the permission he gave them, and so did Don Quixote, who then, +commending himself with all his heart to heaven and to his Dulcinea, as +was his custom on the eve of any combat that awaited him, proceeded to +take a little more distance, as he saw his antagonist was doing the same; +then, without blast of trumpet or other warlike instrument to give them +the signal to charge, both at the same instant wheeled their horses; and +he of the White Moon, being the swifter, met Don Quixote after having +traversed two-thirds of the course, and there encountered him with such +violence that, without touching him with his lance (for he held it high, +to all appearance purposely), he hurled Don Quixote and Rocinante to the +earth, a perilous fall. He sprang upon him at once, and placing the lance +over his visor said to him, "You are vanquished, sir knight, nay dead +unless you admit the conditions of our defiance." + +Don Quixote, bruised and stupefied, without raising his visor said in a +weak feeble voice as if he were speaking out of a tomb, "Dulcinea del +Toboso is the fairest woman in the world, and I the most unfortunate +knight on earth; it is not fitting that this truth should suffer by my +feebleness; drive your lance home, sir knight, and take my life, since +you have taken away my honour." + +"That will I not, in sooth," said he of the White Moon; "live the fame of +the lady Dulcinea's beauty undimmed as ever; all I require is that the +great Don Quixote retire to his own home for a year, or for so long a +time as shall by me be enjoined upon him, as we agreed before engaging in +this combat." + +The viceroy, Don Antonio, and several others who were present heard all +this, and heard too how Don Quixote replied that so long as nothing in +prejudice of Dulcinea was demanded of him, he would observe all the rest +like a true and loyal knight. The engagement given, he of the White Moon +wheeled about, and making obeisance to the viceroy with a movement of the +head, rode away into the city at a half gallop. The viceroy bade Don +Antonio hasten after him, and by some means or other find out who he was. +They raised Don Quixote up and uncovered his face, and found him pale and +bathed with sweat. + +Rocinante from the mere hard measure he had received lay unable to stir +for the present. Sancho, wholly dejected and woebegone, knew not what to +say or do. He fancied that all was a dream, that the whole business was a +piece of enchantment. Here was his master defeated, and bound not to take +up arms for a year. He saw the light of the glory of his achievements +obscured; the hopes of the promises lately made him swept away like smoke +before the wind; Rocinante, he feared, was crippled for life, and his +master's bones out of joint; for if he were only shaken out of his +madness it would be no small luck. In the end they carried him into the +city in a hand-chair which the viceroy sent for, and thither the viceroy +himself returned, cager to ascertain who this Knight of the White Moon +was who had left Don Quixote in such a sad plight. + +Chapter LXV. - +Wherein is made known who the Knight of the White Moon was; likewise Don +Gregorio's release, and other events + +Don Antonia Moreno followed the Knight of the White Moon, and a number of +boys followed him too, nay pursued him, until they had him fairly housed +in a hostel in the heart of the city. Don Antonio, eager to make his +acquaintance, entered also; a squire came out to meet him and remove his +armour, and he shut himself into a lower room, still attended by Don +Antonio, whose bread would not bake until he had found out who he was. He +of the White Moon, seeing then that the gentleman would not leave him, +said, "I know very well, senor, what you have come for; it is to find out +who I am; and as there is no reason why I should conceal it from you, +while my servant here is taking off my armour I will tell you the true +state of the case, without leaving out anything. You must know, senor, +that I am called the bachelor Samson Carrasco. I am of the same village +as Don Quixote of La Mancha, whose craze and folly make all of us who +know him feel pity for him, and I am one of those who have felt it most; +and persuaded that his chance of recovery lay in quiet and keeping at +home and in his own house, I hit upon a device for keeping him there. +Three months ago, therefore, I went out to meet him as a knight-errant, +under the assumed name of the Knight of the Mirrors, intending to engage +him in combat and overcome him without hurting him, making it the +condition of our combat that the vanquished should be at the disposal of +the victor. What I meant to demand of him (for I regarded him as +vanquished already) was that he should return to his own village, and not +leave it for a whole year, by which time he might be cured. But fate +ordered it otherwise, for he vanquished me and unhorsed me, and so my +plan failed. He went his way, and I came back conquered, covered with +shame, and sorely bruised by my fall, which was a particularly dangerous +one. But this did not quench my desire to meet him again and overcome +him, as you have seen to-day. And as he is so scrupulous in his +observance of the laws of knight-errantry, he will, no doubt, in order to +keep his word, obey the injunction I have laid upon him. This, senor, is +how the matter stands, and I have nothing more to tell you. I implore of +you not to betray me, or tell Don Quixote who I am; so that my honest +endeavours may be successful, and that a man of excellent wits--were he +only rid of the fooleries of chivalry--may get them back again." + +"O senor," said Don Antonio, "may God forgive you the wrong you have done +the whole world in trying to bring the most amusing madman in it back to +his senses. Do you not see, senor, that the gain by Don Quixote's sanity +can never equal the enjoyment his crazes give? But my belief is that all +the senor bachelor's pains will be of no avail to bring a man so +hopelessly cracked to his senses again; and if it were not uncharitable, +I would say may Don Quixote never be cured, for by his recovery we lose +not only his own drolleries, but his squire Sancho Panza's too, any one +of which is enough to turn melancholy itself into merriment. However, +I'll hold my peace and say nothing to him, and we'll see whether I am +right in my suspicion that Senor Carrasco's efforts will be fruitless." + +The bachelor replied that at all events the affair promised well, and he +hoped for a happy result from it; and putting his services at Don +Antonio's commands he took his leave of him; and having had his armour +packed at once upon a mule, he rode away from the city the same day on +the horse he rode to battle, and returned to his own country without +meeting any adventure calling for record in this veracious history. + +Don Antonio reported to the viceroy what Carrasco told him, and the +viceroy was not very well pleased to hear it, for with Don Quixote's +retirement there was an end to the amusement of all who knew anything of +his mad doings. + +Six days did Don Quixote keep his bed, dejected, melancholy, moody and +out of sorts, brooding over the unhappy event of his defeat. Sancho +strove to comfort him, and among other things he said to him, "Hold up +your head, senor, and be of good cheer if you can, and give thanks to +heaven that if you have had a tumble to the ground you have not come off +with a broken rib; and, as you know that 'where they give they take,' and +that 'there are not always fletches where there are pegs,' a fig for the +doctor, for there's no need of him to cure this ailment. Let us go home, +and give over going about in search of adventures in strange lands and +places; rightly looked at, it is I that am the greater loser, though it +is your worship that has had the worse usage. With the government I gave +up all wish to be a governor again, but I did not give up all longing to +be a count; and that will never come to pass if your worship gives up +becoming a king by renouncing the calling of chivalry; and so my hopes +are going to turn into smoke." + +"Peace, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "thou seest my suspension and +retirement is not to exceed a year; I shall soon return to my honoured +calling, and I shall not be at a loss for a kingdom to win and a county +to bestow on thee." + +"May God hear it and sin be deaf," said Sancho; "I have always heard say +that 'a good hope is better than a bad holding." + +As they were talking Don Antonio came in looking extremely pleased and +exclaiming, "Reward me for my good news, Senor Don Quixote! Don Gregorio +and the renegade who went for him have come ashore--ashore do I say? They +are by this time in the viceroy's house, and will be here immediately." + +Don Quixote cheered up a little and said, "Of a truth I am almost ready +to say I should have been glad had it turned out just the other way, for +it would have obliged me to cross over to Barbary, where by the might of +my arm I should have restored to liberty, not only Don Gregorio, but all +the Christian captives there are in Barbary. But what am I saying, +miserable being that I am? Am I not he that has been conquered? Am I not +he that has been overthrown? Am I not he who must not take up arms for a +year? Then what am I making professions for; what am I bragging about; +when it is fitter for me to handle the distaff than the sword?" + +"No more of that, senor," said Sancho; "'let the hen live, even though it +be with her pip; 'today for thee and to-morrow for me;' in these affairs +of encounters and whacks one must not mind them, for he that falls to-day +may get up to-morrow; unless indeed he chooses to lie in bed, I mean +gives way to weakness and does not pluck up fresh spirit for fresh +battles; let your worship get up now to receive Don Gregorio; for the +household seems to be in a bustle, and no doubt he has come by this +time;" and so it proved, for as soon as Don Gregorio and the renegade had +given the viceroy an account of the voyage out and home, Don Gregorio, +eager to see Ana Felix, came with the renegade to Don Antonio's house. +When they carried him away from Algiers he was in woman's dress; on board +the vessel, however, he exchanged it for that of a captive who escaped +with him; but in whatever dress he might be he looked like one to be +loved and served and esteemed, for he was surpassingly well-favoured, and +to judge by appearances some seventeen or eighteen years of age. Ricote +and his daughter came out to welcome him, the father with tears, the +daughter with bashfulness. They did not embrace each other, for where +there is deep love there will never be overmuch boldness. Seen side by +side, the comeliness of Don Gregorio and the beauty of Ana Felix were the +admiration of all who were present. It was silence that spoke for the +lovers at that moment, and their eyes were the tongues that declared +their pure and happy feelings. The renegade explained the measures and +means he had adopted to rescue Don Gregorio, and Don Gregorio at no great +length, but in a few words, in which he showed that his intelligence was +in advance of his years, described the peril and embarrassment he found +himself in among the women with whom he had sojourned. To conclude, +Ricote liberally recompensed and rewarded as well the renegade as the men +who had rowed; and the renegade effected his readmission into the body of +the Church and was reconciled with it, and from a rotten limb became by +penance and repentance a clean and sound one. + +Two days later the viceroy discussed with Don Antonio the steps they +should take to enable Ana Felix and her father to stay in Spain, for it +seemed to them there could be no objection to a daughter who was so good +a Christian and a father to all appearance so well disposed remaining +there. Don Antonio offered to arrange the matter at the capital, whither +he was compelled to go on some other business, hinting that many a +difficult affair was settled there with the help of favour and bribes. + +"Nay," said Ricote, who was present during the conversation, "it will not +do to rely upon favour or bribes, because with the great Don Bernardino +de Velasco, Conde de Salazar, to whom his Majesty has entrusted our +expulsion, neither entreaties nor promises, bribes nor appeals to +compassion, are of any use; for though it is true he mingles mercy with +justice, still, seeing that the whole body of our nation is tainted and +corrupt, he applies to it the cautery that burns rather than the salve +that soothes; and thus, by prudence, sagacity, care and the fear he +inspires, he has borne on his mighty shoulders the weight of this great +policy and carried it into effect, all our schemes and plots, +importunities and wiles, being ineffectual to blind his Argus eyes, ever +on the watch lest one of us should remain behind in concealment, and like +a hidden root come in course of time to sprout and bear poisonous fruit +in Spain, now cleansed, and relieved of the fear in which our vast +numbers kept it. Heroic resolve of the great Philip the Third, and +unparalleled wisdom to have entrusted it to the said Don Bernardino de +Velasco!" + +"At any rate," said Don Antonio, "when I am there I will make all +possible efforts, and let heaven do as pleases it best; Don Gregorio will +come with me to relieve the anxiety which his parents must be suffering +on account of his absence; Ana Felix will remain in my house with my +wife, or in a monastery; and I know the viceroy will be glad that the +worthy Ricote should stay with him until we see what terms I can make." + +The viceroy agreed to all that was proposed; but Don Gregorio on learning +what had passed declared he could not and would not on any account leave +Ana Felix; however, as it was his purpose to go and see his parents and +devise some way of returning for her, he fell in with the proposed +arrangement. Ana Felix remained with Don Antonio's wife, and Ricote in +the viceroy's house. + +The day for Don Antonio's departure came; and two days later that for Don +Quixote's and Sancho's, for Don Quixote's fall did not suffer him to take +the road sooner. There were tears and sighs, swoonings and sobs, at the +parting between Don Gregorio and Ana Felix. Ricote offered Don Gregorio a +thousand crowns if he would have them, but he would not take any save +five which Don Antonio lent him and he promised to repay at the capital. +So the two of them took their departure, and Don Quixote and Sancho +afterwards, as has been already said, Don Quixote without his armour and +in travelling gear, and Sancho on foot, Dapple being loaded with the +armour. + +Chapter LXVI. - +Which treats of what he who reads will see, or what he who has it read to +him will hear + +As he left Barcelona, Don Quixote turned gaze upon the spot where he had +fallen. "Here Troy was," said he; "here my ill-luck, not my cowardice, +robbed me of all the glory I had won; here Fortune made me the victim of +her caprices; here the lustre of my achievements was dimmed; here, in a +word, fell my happiness never to rise again." + +"Senor," said Sancho on hearing this, "it is the part of brave hearts to +be patient in adversity just as much as to be glad in prosperity; I judge +by myself, for, if when I was a governor I was glad, now that I am a +squire and on foot I am not sad; and I have heard say that she whom +commonly they call Fortune is a drunken whimsical jade, and, what is +more, blind, and therefore neither sees what she does, nor knows whom she +casts down or whom she sets up." + +"Thou art a great philosopher, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "thou speakest +very sensibly; I know not who taught thee. But I can tell thee there is +no such thing as Fortune in the world, nor does anything which takes +place there, be it good or bad, come about by chance, but by the special +preordination of heaven; and hence the common saying that 'each of us is +the maker of his own Fortune.' I have been that of mine; but not with the +proper amount of prudence, and my self-confidence has therefore made me +pay dearly; for I ought to have reflected that Rocinante's feeble +strength could not resist the mighty bulk of the Knight of the White +Moon's horse. In a word, I ventured it, I did my best, I was overthrown, +but though I lost my honour I did not lose nor can I lose the virtue of +keeping my word. When I was a knight-errant, daring and valiant, I +supported my achievements by hand and deed, and now that I am a humble +squire I will support my words by keeping the promise I have given. +Forward then, Sancho my friend, let us go to keep the year of the +novitiate in our own country, and in that seclusion we shall pick up +fresh strength to return to the by me never-forgotten calling of arms." + +"Senor," returned Sancho, "travelling on foot is not such a pleasant +thing that it makes me feel disposed or tempted to make long marches. Let +us leave this armour hung up on some tree, instead of some one that has +been hanged; and then with me on Dapple's back and my feet off the ground +we will arrange the stages as your worship pleases to measure them out; +but to suppose that I am going to travel on foot, and make long ones, is +to suppose nonsense." + +"Thou sayest well, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "let my armour be hung up +for a trophy, and under it or round it we will carve on the trees what +was inscribed on the trophy of Roland's armour-- + +These let none move +Who dareth not his might with Roland prove." + +"That's the very thing," said Sancho; "and if it was not that we should +feel the want of Rocinante on the road, it would be as well to leave him +hung up too." + +"And yet, I had rather not have either him or the armour hung up," said +Don Quixote, "that it may not be said, 'for good service a bad return.'" + +"Your worship is right," said Sancho; "for, as sensible people hold, 'the +fault of the ass must not be laid on the pack-saddle;' and, as in this +affair the fault is your worship's, punish yourself and don't let your +anger break out against the already battered and bloody armour, or the +meekness of Rocinante, or the tenderness of my feet, trying to make them +travel more than is reasonable." + +In converse of this sort the whole of that day went by, as did the four +succeeding ones, without anything occurring to interrupt their journey, +but on the fifth as they entered a village they found a great number of +people at the door of an inn enjoying themselves, as it was a holiday. +Upon Don Quixote's approach a peasant called out, "One of these two +gentlemen who come here, and who don't know the parties, will tell us +what we ought to do about our wager." + +"That I will, certainly," said Don Quixote, "and according to the rights +of the case, if I can manage to understand it." + +"Well, here it is, worthy sir," said the peasant; "a man of this village +who is so fat that he weighs twenty stone challenged another, a neighbour +of his, who does not weigh more than nine, to run a race. The agreement +was that they were to run a distance of a hundred paces with equal +weights; and when the challenger was asked how the weights were to be +equalised he said that the other, as he weighed nine stone, should put +eleven in iron on his back, and that in this way the twenty stone of the +thin man would equal the twenty stone of the fat one." + +"Not at all," exclaimed Sancho at once, before Don Quixote could answer; +"it's for me, that only a few days ago left off being a governor and a +judge, as all the world knows, to settle these doubtful questions and +give an opinion in disputes of all sorts." + +"Answer in God's name, Sancho my friend," said Don Quixote, "for I am not +fit to give crumbs to a cat, my wits are so confused and upset." + +With this permission Sancho said to the peasants who stood clustered +round him, waiting with open mouths for the decision to come from his, +"Brothers, what the fat man requires is not in reason, nor has it a +shadow of justice in it; because, if it be true, as they say, that the +challenged may choose the weapons, the other has no right to choose such +as will prevent and keep him from winning. My decision, therefore, is +that the fat challenger prune, peel, thin, trim and correct himself, and +take eleven stone of his flesh off his body, here or there, as he +pleases, and as suits him best; and being in this way reduced to nine +stone weight, he will make himself equal and even with nine stone of his +opponent, and they will be able to run on equal terms." + +"By all that's good," said one of the peasants as he heard Sancho's +decision, "but the gentleman has spoken like a saint, and given judgment +like a canon! But I'll be bound the fat man won't part with an ounce of +his flesh, not to say eleven stone." + +"The best plan will be for them not to run," said another, "so that +neither the thin man break down under the weight, nor the fat one strip +himself of his flesh; let half the wager be spent in wine, and let's take +these gentlemen to the tavern where there's the best, and 'over me be the +cloak when it rains." + +"I thank you, sirs," said Don Quixote; "but I cannot stop for an instant, +for sad thoughts and unhappy circumstances force me to seem discourteous +and to travel apace;" and spurring Rocinante he pushed on, leaving them +wondering at what they had seen and heard, at his own strange figure and +at the shrewdness of his servant, for such they took Sancho to be; and +another of them observed, "If the servant is so clever, what must the +master be? I'll bet, if they are going to Salamanca to study, they'll +come to be alcaldes of the Court in a trice; for it's a mere joke--only +to read and read, and have interest and good luck; and before a man knows +where he is he finds himself with a staff in his hand or a mitre on his +head." + +That night master and man passed out in the fields in the open air, and +the next day as they were pursuing their journey they saw coming towards +them a man on foot with alforjas at the neck and a javelin or spiked +staff in his hand, the very cut of a foot courier; who, as soon as he +came close to Don Quixote, increased his pace and half running came up to +him, and embracing his right thigh, for he could reach no higher, +exclaimed with evident pleasure, "O Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha, what +happiness it will be to the heart of my lord the duke when he knows your +worship is coming back to his castle, for he is still there with my lady +the duchess!" + +"I do not recognise you, friend," said Don Quixote, "nor do I know who +you are, unless you tell me." + +"I am Tosilos, my lord the duke's lacquey, Senor Don Quixote," replied +the courier; "he who refused to fight your worship about marrying the +daughter of Dona Rodriguez." + +"God bless me!" exclaimed Don Quixote; "is it possible that you are the +one whom mine enemies the enchanters changed into the lacquey you speak +of in order to rob me of the honour of that battle?" + +"Nonsense, good sir!" said the messenger; "there was no enchantment or +transformation at all; I entered the lists just as much lacquey Tosilos +as I came out of them lacquey Tosilos. I thought to marry without +fighting, for the girl had taken my fancy; but my scheme had a very +different result, for as soon as your worship had left the castle my lord +the duke had a hundred strokes of the stick given me for having acted +contrary to the orders he gave me before engaging in the combat; and the +end of the whole affair is that the girl has become a nun, and Dona +Rodriguez has gone back to Castile, and I am now on my way to Barcelona +with a packet of letters for the viceroy which my master is sending him. +If your worship would like a drop, sound though warm, I have a gourd here +full of the best, and some scraps of Tronchon cheese that will serve as a +provocative and wakener of your thirst if so be it is asleep." + +"I take the offer," said Sancho; "no more compliments about it; pour out, +good Tosilos, in spite of all the enchanters in the Indies." + +"Thou art indeed the greatest glutton in the world, Sancho," said Don +Quixote, "and the greatest booby on earth, not to be able to see that +this courier is enchanted and this Tosilos a sham one; stop with him and +take thy fill; I will go on slowly and wait for thee to come up with me." + +The lacquey laughed, unsheathed his gourd, unwalletted his scraps, and +taking out a small loaf of bread he and Sancho seated themselves on the +green grass, and in peace and good fellowship finished off the contents +of the alforjas down to the bottom, so resolutely that they licked the +wrapper of the letters, merely because it smelt of cheese. + +Said Tosilos to Sancho, "Beyond a doubt, Sancho my friend, this master of +thine ought to be a madman." + +"Ought!" said Sancho; "he owes no man anything; he pays for everything, +particularly when the coin is madness. I see it plain enough, and I tell +him so plain enough; but what's the use? especially now that it is all +over with him, for here he is beaten by the Knight of the White Moon." + +Tosilos begged him to explain what had happened him, but Sancho replied +that it would not be good manners to leave his master waiting for him; +and that some other day if they met there would be time enough for that; +and then getting up, after shaking his doublet and brushing the crumbs +out of his beard, he drove Dapple on before him, and bidding adieu to +Tosilos left him and rejoined his master, who was waiting for him under +the shade of a tree. + +Chapter LXVII. - +Of the resolution Don Quixote formed to turn shepherd and take to a life +in the fields while the year for which he had given his word was running +its course; with other events truly delectable and happy + +If a multitude of reflections used to harass Don Quixote before he had +been overthrown, a great many more harassed him since his fall. He was +under the shade of a tree, as has been said, and there, like flies on +honey, thoughts came crowding upon him and stinging him. Some of them +turned upon the disenchantment of Dulcinea, others upon the life he was +about to lead in his enforced retirement. Sancho came up and spoke in +high praise of the generous disposition of the lacquey Tosilos. + +"Is it possible, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that thou dost still think +that he yonder is a real lacquey? Apparently it has escaped thy memory +that thou hast seen Dulcinea turned and transformed into a peasant wench, +and the Knight of the Mirrors into the bachelor Carrasco; all the work of +the enchanters that persecute me. But tell me now, didst thou ask this +Tosilos, as thou callest him, what has become of Altisidora, did she weep +over my absence, or has she already consigned to oblivion the love +thoughts that used to afflict her when I was present?" + +"The thoughts that I had," said Sancho, "were not such as to leave time +for asking fool's questions. Body o' me, senor! is your worship in a +condition now to inquire into other people's thoughts, above all love +thoughts?" + +"Look ye, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "there is a great difference between +what is done out of love and what is done out of gratitude. A knight may +very possibly be proof against love; but it is impossible, strictly +speaking, for him to be ungrateful. Altisidora, to all appearance, loved +me truly; she gave me the three kerchiefs thou knowest of; she wept at my +departure, she cursed me, she abused me, casting shame to the winds she +bewailed herself in public; all signs that she adored me; for the wrath +of lovers always ends in curses. I had no hopes to give her, nor +treasures to offer her, for mine are given to Dulcinea, and the treasures +of knights-errant are like those of the fairies,' illusory and deceptive; +all I can give her is the place in my memory I keep for her, without +prejudice, however, to that which I hold devoted to Dulcinea, whom thou +art wronging by thy remissness in whipping thyself and scourging that +flesh--would that I saw it eaten by wolves--which would rather keep +itself for the worms than for the relief of that poor lady." + +"Senor," replied Sancho, "if the truth is to be told, I cannot persuade +myself that the whipping of my backside has anything to do with the +disenchantment of the enchanted; it is like saying, 'If your head aches +rub ointment on your knees;' at any rate I'll make bold to swear that in +all the histories dealing with knight-errantry that your worship has read +you have never come across anybody disenchanted by whipping; but whether +or no I'll whip myself when I have a fancy for it, and the opportunity +serves for scourging myself comfortably." + +"God grant it," said Don Quixote; "and heaven give thee grace to take it +to heart and own the obligation thou art under to help my lady, who is +thine also, inasmuch as thou art mine." + +As they pursued their journey talking in this way they came to the very +same spot where they had been trampled on by the bulls. Don Quixote +recognised it, and said he to Sancho, "This is the meadow where we came +upon those gay shepherdesses and gallant shepherds who were trying to +revive and imitate the pastoral Arcadia there, an idea as novel as it was +happy, in emulation whereof, if so be thou dost approve of it, Sancho, I +would have ourselves turn shepherds, at any rate for the time I have to +live in retirement. I will buy some ewes and everything else requisite +for the pastoral calling; and, I under the name of the shepherd Quixotize +and thou as the shepherd Panzino, we will roam the woods and groves and +meadows singing songs here, lamenting in elegies there, drinking of the +crystal waters of the springs or limpid brooks or flowing rivers. The +oaks will yield us their sweet fruit with bountiful hand, the trunks of +the hard cork trees a seat, the willows shade, the roses perfume, the +widespread meadows carpets tinted with a thousand dyes; the clear pure +air will give us breath, the moon and stars lighten the darkness of the +night for us, song shall be our delight, lamenting our joy, Apollo will +supply us with verses, and love with conceits whereby we shall make +ourselves famed for ever, not only in this but in ages to come." + +"Egad," said Sancho, "but that sort of life squares, nay corners, with my +notions; and what is more the bachelor Samson Carrasco and Master +Nicholas the barber won't have well seen it before they'll want to follow +it and turn shepherds along with us; and God grant it may not come into +the curate's head to join the sheepfold too, he's so jovial and fond of +enjoying himself." + +"Thou art in the right of it, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "and the +bachelor Samson Carrasco, if he enters the pastoral fraternity, as no +doubt he will, may call himself the shepherd Samsonino, or perhaps the +shepherd Carrascon; Nicholas the barber may call himself Niculoso, as old +Boscan formerly was called Nemoroso; as for the curate I don't know what +name we can fit to him unless it be something derived from his title, and +we call him the shepherd Curiambro. For the shepherdesses whose lovers we +shall be, we can pick names as we would pears; and as my lady's name does +just as well for a shepherdess's as for a princess's, I need not trouble +myself to look for one that will suit her better; to thine, Sancho, thou +canst give what name thou wilt." + +"I don't mean to give her any but Teresona," said Sancho, "which will go +well with her stoutness and with her own right name, as she is called +Teresa; and then when I sing her praises in my verses I'll show how +chaste my passion is, for I'm not going to look 'for better bread than +ever came from wheat' in other men's houses. It won't do for the curate +to have a shepherdess, for the sake of good example; and if the bachelor +chooses to have one, that is his look-out." + +"God bless me, Sancho my friend!" said Don Quixote, "what a life we shall +lead! What hautboys and Zamora bagpipes we shall hear, what tabors, +timbrels, and rebecks! And then if among all these different sorts of +music that of the albogues is heard, almost all the pastoral instruments +will be there." + +"What are albogues?" asked Sancho, "for I never in my life heard tell of +them or saw them." + +"Albogues," said Don Quixote, "are brass plates like candlesticks that +struck against one another on the hollow side make a noise which, if not +very pleasing or harmonious, is not disagreeable and accords very well +with the rude notes of the bagpipe and tabor. The word albogue is +Morisco, as are all those in our Spanish tongue that begin with al; for +example, almohaza, almorzar, alhombra, alguacil, alhucema, almacen, +alcancia, and others of the same sort, of which there are not many more; +our language has only three that are Morisco and end in i, which are +borcegui, zaquizami, and maravedi. Alheli and alfaqui are seen to be +Arabic, as well by the al at the beginning as by the they end with. I +mention this incidentally, the chance allusion to albogues having +reminded me of it; and it will be of great assistance to us in the +perfect practice of this calling that I am something of a poet, as thou +knowest, and that besides the bachelor Samson Carrasco is an accomplished +one. Of the curate I say nothing; but I will wager he has some spice of +the poet in him, and no doubt Master Nicholas too, for all barbers, or +most of them, are guitar players and stringers of verses. I will bewail +my separation; thou shalt glorify thyself as a constant lover; the +shepherd Carrascon will figure as a rejected one, and the curate +Curiambro as whatever may please him best; and so all will go as gaily as +heart could wish." + +To this Sancho made answer, "I am so unlucky, senor, that I'm afraid the +day will never come when I'll see myself at such a calling. O what neat +spoons I'll make when I'm a shepherd! What messes, creams, garlands, +pastoral odds and ends! And if they don't get me a name for wisdom, +they'll not fail to get me one for ingenuity. My daughter Sanchica will +bring us our dinner to the pasture. But stay-she's good-looking, and +shepherds there are with more mischief than simplicity in them; I would +not have her 'come for wool and go back shorn;' love-making and lawless +desires are just as common in the fields as in the cities, and in +shepherds' shanties as in royal palaces; 'do away with the cause, you do +away with the sin;' 'if eyes don't see hearts don't break' and 'better a +clear escape than good men's prayers.'" + +"A truce to thy proverbs, Sancho," exclaimed Don Quixote; "any one of +those thou hast uttered would suffice to explain thy meaning; many a time +have I recommended thee not to be so lavish with proverbs and to exercise +some moderation in delivering them; but it seems to me it is only +'preaching in the desert;' 'my mother beats me and I go on with my +tricks." + +"It seems to me," said Sancho, "that your worship is like the common +saying, 'Said the frying-pan to the kettle, Get away, blackbreech.' You +chide me for uttering proverbs, and you string them in couples yourself." + +"Observe, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "I bring in proverbs to the +purpose, and when I quote them they fit like a ring to the finger; thou +bringest them in by the head and shoulders, in such a way that thou dost +drag them in, rather than introduce them; if I am not mistaken, I have +told thee already that proverbs are short maxims drawn from the +experience and observation of our wise men of old; but the proverb that +is not to the purpose is a piece of nonsense and not a maxim. But enough +of this; as nightfall is drawing on let us retire some little distance +from the high road to pass the night; what is in store for us to-morrow +God knoweth." + +They turned aside, and supped late and poorly, very much against Sancho's +will, who turned over in his mind the hardships attendant upon +knight-errantry in woods and forests, even though at times plenty +presented itself in castles and houses, as at Don Diego de Miranda's, at +the wedding of Camacho the Rich, and at Don Antonio Moreno's; he +reflected, however, that it could not be always day, nor always night; +and so that night he passed in sleeping, and his master in waking. + +Chapter LXVIII. - +Of the bristly adventure that befell Don Quixote + +The night was somewhat dark, for though there was a moon in the sky it +was not in a quarter where she could be seen; for sometimes the lady +Diana goes on a stroll to the antipodes, and leaves the mountains all +black and the valleys in darkness. Don Quixote obeyed nature so far as to +sleep his first sleep, but did not give way to the second, very different +from Sancho, who never had any second, because with him sleep lasted from +night till morning, wherein he showed what a sound constitution and few +cares he had. Don Quixote's cares kept him restless, so much so that he +awoke Sancho and said to him, "I am amazed, Sancho, at the unconcern of +thy temperament. I believe thou art made of marble or hard brass, +incapable of any emotion or feeling whatever. I lie awake while thou +sleepest, I weep while thou singest, I am faint with fasting while thou +art sluggish and torpid from pure repletion. It is the duty of good +servants to share the sufferings and feel the sorrows of their masters, +if it be only for the sake of appearances. See the calmness of the night, +the solitude of the spot, inviting us to break our slumbers by a vigil of +some sort. Rise as thou livest, and retire a little distance, and with a +good heart and cheerful courage give thyself three or four hundred lashes +on account of Dulcinea's disenchantment score; and this I entreat of +thee, making it a request, for I have no desire to come to grips with +thee a second time, as I know thou hast a heavy hand. As soon as thou +hast laid them on we will pass the rest of the night, I singing my +separation, thou thy constancy, making a beginning at once with the +pastoral life we are to follow at our village." + +"Senor," replied Sancho, "I'm no monk to get up out of the middle of my +sleep and scourge myself, nor does it seem to me that one can pass from +one extreme of the pain of whipping to the other of music. Will your +worship let me sleep, and not worry me about whipping myself? or you'll +make me swear never to touch a hair of my doublet, not to say my flesh." + +"O hard heart!" said Don Quixote, "O pitiless squire! O bread +ill-bestowed and favours ill-acknowledged, both those I have done thee +and those I mean to do thee! Through me hast thou seen thyself a +governor, and through me thou seest thyself in immediate expectation of +being a count, or obtaining some other equivalent title, for I-post +tenebras spero lucem." + +"I don't know what that is," said Sancho; "all I know is that so long as +I am asleep I have neither fear nor hope, trouble nor glory; and good +luck betide him that invented sleep, the cloak that covers over all a +man's thoughts, the food that removes hunger, the drink that drives away +thirst, the fire that warms the cold, the cold that tempers the heat, +and, to wind up with, the universal coin wherewith everything is bought, +the weight and balance that makes the shepherd equal with the king and +the fool with the wise man. Sleep, I have heard say, has only one fault, +that it is like death; for between a sleeping man and a dead man there is +very little difference." + +"Never have I heard thee speak so elegantly as now, Sancho," said Don +Quixote; "and here I begin to see the truth of the proverb thou dost +sometimes quote, 'Not with whom thou art bred, but with whom thou art +fed.'" + +"Ha, by my life, master mine," said Sancho, "it's not I that am stringing +proverbs now, for they drop in pairs from your worship's mouth faster +than from mine; only there is this difference between mine and yours, +that yours are well-timed and mine are untimely; but anyhow, they are all +proverbs." + +At this point they became aware of a harsh indistinct noise that seemed +to spread through all the valleys around. Don Quixote stood up and laid +his hand upon his sword, and Sancho ensconced himself under Dapple and +put the bundle of armour on one side of him and the ass's pack-saddle on +the other, in fear and trembling as great as Don Quixote's perturbation. +Each instant the noise increased and came nearer to the two terrified +men, or at least to one, for as to the other, his courage is known to +all. The fact of the matter was that some men were taking above six +hundred pigs to sell at a fair, and were on their way with them at that +hour, and so great was the noise they made and their grunting and +blowing, that they deafened the ears of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, and +they could not make out what it was. The wide-spread grunting drove came +on in a surging mass, and without showing any respect for Don Quixote's +dignity or Sancho's, passed right over the pair of them, demolishing +Sancho's entrenchments, and not only upsetting Don Quixote but sweeping +Rocinante off his feet into the bargain; and what with the trampling and +the grunting, and the pace at which the unclean beasts went, pack-saddle, +armour, Dapple and Rocinante were left scattered on the ground and Sancho +and Don Quixote at their wits' end. + +Sancho got up as well as he could and begged his master to give him his +sword, saying he wanted to kill half a dozen of those dirty unmannerly +pigs, for he had by this time found out that that was what they were. + +"Let them be, my friend," said Don Quixote; "this insult is the penalty +of my sin; and it is the righteous chastisement of heaven that jackals +should devour a vanquished knight, and wasps sting him and pigs trample +him under foot." + +"I suppose it is the chastisement of heaven, too," said Sancho, "that +flies should prick the squires of vanquished knights, and lice eat them, +and hunger assail them. If we squires were the sons of the knights we +serve, or their very near relations, it would be no wonder if the penalty +of their misdeeds overtook us, even to the fourth generation. But what +have the Panzas to do with the Quixotes? Well, well, let's lie down again +and sleep out what little of the night there's left, and God will send us +dawn and we shall be all right." + +"Sleep thou, Sancho," returned Don Quixote, "for thou wast born to sleep +as I was born to watch; and during the time it now wants of dawn I will +give a loose rein to my thoughts, and seek a vent for them in a little +madrigal which, unknown to thee, I composed in my head last night." + +"I should think," said Sancho, "that the thoughts that allow one to make +verses cannot be of great consequence; let your worship string verses as +much as you like and I'll sleep as much as I can;" and forthwith, taking +the space of ground he required, he muffled himself up and fell into a +sound sleep, undisturbed by bond, debt, or trouble of any sort. Don +Quixote, propped up against the trunk of a beech or a cork tree--for Cide +Hamete does not specify what kind of tree it was--sang in this strain to +the accompaniment of his own sighs: + +poem{ + + When in my mind +I muse, O Love, upon thy cruelty, + To death I flee, +In hope therein the end of all to find. + + But drawing near +That welcome haven in my sea of woe, + Such joy I know, +That life revives, and still I linger here. + + Thus life doth slay, +And death again to life restoreth me; + Strange destiny, +That deals with life and death as with a play! + +}poem + +He accompanied each verse with many sighs and not a few tears, just like +one whose heart was pierced with grief at his defeat and his separation +from Dulcinea. + +And now daylight came, and the sun smote Sancho on the eyes with his +beams. He awoke, roused himself up, shook himself and stretched his lazy +limbs, and seeing the havoc the pigs had made with his stores he cursed +the drove, and more besides. Then the pair resumed their journey, and as +evening closed in they saw coming towards them some ten men on horseback +and four or five on foot. Don Quixote's heart beat quick and Sancho's +quailed with fear, for the persons approaching them carried lances and +bucklers, and were in very warlike guise. Don Quixote turned to Sancho +and said, "If I could make use of my weapons, and my promise had not tied +my hands, I would count this host that comes against us but cakes and +fancy bread; but perhaps it may prove something different from what we +apprehend." The men on horseback now came up, and raising their lances +surrounded Don Quixote in silence, and pointed them at his back and +breast, menacing him with death. One of those on foot, putting his finger +to his lips as a sign to him to be silent, seized Rocinante's bridle and +drew him out of the road, and the others driving Sancho and Dapple before +them, and all maintaining a strange silence, followed in the steps of the +one who led Don Quixote. The latter two or three times attempted to ask +where they were taking him to and what they wanted, but the instant he +began to open his lips they threatened to close them with the points of +their lances; and Sancho fared the same way, for the moment he seemed +about to speak one of those on foot punched him with a goad, and Dapple +likewise, as if he too wanted to talk. Night set in, they quickened their +pace, and the fears of the two prisoners grew greater, especially as they +heard themselves assailed with--"Get on, ye Troglodytes;" "Silence, ye +barbarians;" "March, ye cannibals;" "No murmuring, ye Scythians;" "Don't +open your eyes, ye murderous Polyphemes, ye blood-thirsty lions," and +suchlike names with which their captors harassed the ears of the wretched +master and man. Sancho went along saying to himself, "We, tortolites, +barbers, animals! I don't like those names at all; 'it's in a bad wind +our corn is being winnowed;' 'misfortune comes upon us all at once like +sticks on a dog,' and God grant it may be no worse than them that this +unlucky adventure has in store for us." + +Don Quixote rode completely dazed, unable with the aid of all his wits to +make out what could be the meaning of these abusive names they called +them, and the only conclusion he could arrive at was that there was no +good to be hoped for and much evil to be feared. And now, about an hour +after midnight, they reached a castle which Don Quixote saw at once was +the duke's, where they had been but a short time before. "God bless me!" +said he, as he recognised the mansion, "what does this mean? It is all +courtesy and politeness in this house; but with the vanquished good turns +into evil, and evil into worse." + +They entered the chief court of the castle and found it prepared and +fitted up in a style that added to their amazement and doubled their +fears, as will be seen in the following chapter. + +Chapter LXIX. - +Of the strangest and most extraordinary adventure that befell Don Quixote +in the whole course of this great history + +The horsemen dismounted, and, together with the men on foot, without a +moment's delay taking up Sancho and Don Quixote bodily, they carried them +into the court, all round which near a hundred torches fixed in sockets +were burning, besides above five hundred lamps in the corridors, so that +in spite of the night, which was somewhat dark, the want of daylight +could not be perceived. In the middle of the court was a catafalque, +raised about two yards above the ground and covered completely by an +immense canopy of black velvet, and on the steps all round it white wax +tapers burned in more than a hundred silver candlesticks. Upon the +catafalque was seen the dead body of a damsel so lovely that by her +beauty she made death itself look beautiful. She lay with her head +resting upon a cushion of brocade and crowned with a garland of +sweet-smelling flowers of divers sorts, her hands crossed upon her bosom, +and between them a branch of yellow palm of victory. On one side of the +court was erected a stage, where upon two chairs were seated two persons +who from having crowns on their heads and sceptres in their hands +appeared to be kings of some sort, whether real or mock ones. By the side +of this stage, which was reached by steps, were two other chairs on which +the men carrying the prisoners seated Don Quixote and Sancho, all in +silence, and by signs giving them to understand that they too were to be +silent; which, however, they would have been without any signs, for their +amazement at all they saw held them tongue-tied. And now two persons of +distinction, who were at once recognised by Don Quixote as his hosts the +duke and duchess, ascended the stage attended by a numerous suite, and +seated themselves on two gorgeous chairs close to the two kings, as they +seemed to be. Who would not have been amazed at this? Nor was this all, +for Don Quixote had perceived that the dead body on the catafalque was +that of the fair Altisidora. As the duke and duchess mounted the stage +Don Quixote and Sancho rose and made them a profound obeisance, which +they returned by bowing their heads slightly. At this moment an official +crossed over, and approaching Sancho threw over him a robe of black +buckram painted all over with flames of fire, and taking off his cap put +upon his head a mitre such as those undergoing the sentence of the Holy +Office wear; and whispered in his ear that he must not open his lips, or +they would put a gag upon him, or take his life. Sancho surveyed himself +from head to foot and saw himself all ablaze with flames; but as they did +not burn him, he did not care two farthings for them. He took off the +mitre and seeing painted with devils he put it on again, saying to +himself, "Well, so far those don't burn me nor do these carry me off." +Don Quixote surveyed him too, and though fear had got the better of his +faculties, he could not help smiling to see the figure Sancho presented. +And now from underneath the catafalque, so it seemed, there rose a low +sweet sound of flutes, which, coming unbroken by human voice (for there +silence itself kept silence), had a soft and languishing effect. Then, +beside the pillow of what seemed to be the dead body, suddenly appeared a +fair youth in a Roman habit, who, to the accompaniment of a harp which he +himself played, sang in a sweet and clear voice these two stanzas: + +poem{ + +While fair Altisidora, who the sport + Of cold Don Quixote's cruelty hath been, +Returns to life, and in this magic court + The dames in sables come to grace the scene, +And while her matrons all in seemly sort + My lady robes in baize and bombazine, +Her beauty and her sorrows will I sing +With defter quill than touched the Thracian string. + +But not in life alone, methinks, to me + Belongs the office; Lady, when my tongue +Is cold in death, believe me, unto thee + My voice shall raise its tributary song. +My soul, from this strait prison-house set free, + As o'er the Stygian lake it floats along, +Thy praises singing still shall hold its way, +And make the waters of oblivion stay. + +}poem + +At this point one of the two that looked like kings exclaimed, "Enough, +enough, divine singer! It would be an endless task to put before us now +the death and the charms of the peerless Altisidora, not dead as the +ignorant world imagines, but living in the voice of fame and in the +penance which Sancho Panza, here present, has to undergo to restore her +to the long-lost light. Do thou, therefore, O Rhadamanthus, who sittest +in judgment with me in the murky caverns of Dis, as thou knowest all that +the inscrutable fates have decreed touching the resuscitation of this +damsel, announce and declare it at once, that the happiness we look +forward to from her restoration be no longer deferred." + +No sooner had Minos the fellow judge of Rhadamanthus said this, than +Rhadamanthus rising up said: + +"Ho, officials of this house, high and low, great and small, make haste +hither one and all, and print on Sancho's face four-and-twenty smacks, +and give him twelve pinches and six pin thrusts in the back and arms; for +upon this ceremony depends the restoration of Altisidora." + +On hearing this Sancho broke silence and cried out, "By all that's good, +I'll as soon let my face be smacked or handled as turn Moor. Body o' me! +What has handling my face got to do with the resurrection of this damsel? +'The old woman took kindly to the blits; they enchant Dulcinea, and whip +me in order to disenchant her; Altisidora dies of ailments God was +pleased to send her, and to bring her to life again they must give me +four-and-twenty smacks, and prick holes in my body with pins, and raise +weals on my arms with pinches! Try those jokes on a brother-in-law; 'I'm +an old dog, and "tus, tus" is no use with me.'" + +"Thou shalt die," said Rhadamanthus in a loud voice; "relent, thou tiger; +humble thyself, proud Nimrod; suffer and be silent, for no +impossibilities are asked of thee; it is not for thee to inquire into the +difficulties in this matter; smacked thou must be, pricked thou shalt see +thyself, and with pinches thou must be made to howl. Ho, I say, +officials, obey my orders; or by the word of an honest man, ye shall see +what ye were born for." + +At this some six duennas, advancing across the court, made their +appearance in procession, one after the other, four of them with +spectacles, and all with their right hands uplifted, showing four fingers +of wrist to make their hands look longer, as is the fashion now-a-days. +No sooner had Sancho caught sight of them than, bellowing like a bull, he +exclaimed, "I might let myself be handled by all the world; but allow +duennas to touch me--not a bit of it! Scratch my face, as my master was +served in this very castle; run me through the body with burnished +daggers; pinch my arms with red-hot pincers; I'll bear all in patience to +serve these gentlefolk; but I won't let duennas touch me, though the +devil should carry me off!" + +Here Don Quixote, too, broke silence, saying to Sancho, "Have patience, +my son, and gratify these noble persons, and give all thanks to heaven +that it has infused such virtue into thy person, that by its sufferings +thou canst disenchant the enchanted and restore to life the dead." + +The duennas were now close to Sancho, and he, having become more +tractable and reasonable, settling himself well in his chair presented +his face and beard to the first, who delivered him a smack very stoutly +laid on, and then made him a low curtsey. + +"Less politeness and less paint, senora duenna," said Sancho; "by God +your hands smell of vinegar-wash." + +In fine, all the duennas smacked him and several others of the household +pinched him; but what he could not stand was being pricked by the pins; +and so, apparently out of patience, he started up out of his chair, and +seizing a lighted torch that stood near him fell upon the duennas and the +whole set of his tormentors, exclaiming, "Begone, ye ministers of hell; +I'm not made of brass not to feel such out-of-the-way tortures." + +At this instant Altisidora, who probably was tired of having been so long +lying on her back, turned on her side; seeing which the bystanders cried +out almost with one voice, "Altisidora is alive! Altisidora lives!" + +Rhadamanthus bade Sancho put away his wrath, as the object they had in +view was now attained. When Don Quixote saw Altisidora move, he went on +his knees to Sancho saying to him, "Now is the time, son of my bowels, +not to call thee my squire, for thee to give thyself some of those lashes +thou art bound to lay on for the disenchantment of Dulcinea. Now, I say, +is the time when the virtue that is in thee is ripe, and endowed with +efficacy to work the good that is looked for from thee." + +To which Sancho made answer, "That's trick upon trick, I think, and not +honey upon pancakes; a nice thing it would be for a whipping to come now, +on the top of pinches, smacks, and pin-proddings! You had better take a +big stone and tie it round my neck, and pitch me into a well; I should +not mind it much, if I'm to be always made the cow of the wedding for the +cure of other people's ailments. Leave me alone; or else by God I'll +fling the whole thing to the dogs, let come what may." + +Altisidora had by this time sat up on the catafalque, and as she did so +the clarions sounded, accompanied by the flutes, and the voices of all +present exclaiming, "Long life to Altisidora! long life to Altisidora!" +The duke and duchess and the kings Minos and Rhadamanthus stood up, and +all, together with Don Quixote and Sancho, advanced to receive her and +take her down from the catafalque; and she, making as though she were +recovering from a swoon, bowed her head to the duke and duchess and to +the kings, and looking sideways at Don Quixote, said to him, "God forgive +thee, insensible knight, for through thy cruelty I have been, to me it +seems, more than a thousand years in the other world; and to thee, the +most compassionate upon earth, I render thanks for the life I am now in +possession of. From this day forth, friend Sancho, count as thine six +smocks of mine which I bestow upon thee, to make as many shirts for +thyself, and if they are not all quite whole, at any rate they are all +clean." + +Sancho kissed her hands in gratitude, kneeling, and with the mitre in his +hand. The duke bade them take it from him, and give him back his cap and +doublet and remove the flaming robe. Sancho begged the duke to let them +leave him the robe and mitre; as he wanted to take them home for a token +and memento of that unexampled adventure. The duchess said they must +leave them with him; for he knew already what a great friend of his she +was. The duke then gave orders that the court should be cleared, and that +all should retire to their chambers, and that Don Quixote and Sancho +should be conducted to their old quarters. + +Chapter LXX. - +Which follows sixty-nine and deals with matters indispensable for the +clear comprehension of this history + +Sancho slept that night in a cot in the same chamber with Don Quixote, a +thing he would have gladly excused if he could for he knew very well that +with questions and answers his master would not let him sleep, and he was +in no humour for talking much, as he still felt the pain of his late +martyrdom, which interfered with his freedom of speech; and it would have +been more to his taste to sleep in a hovel alone, than in that luxurious +chamber in company. And so well founded did his apprehension prove, and +so correct was his anticipation, that scarcely had his master got into +bed when he said, "What dost thou think of tonight's adventure, Sancho? +Great and mighty is the power of cold-hearted scorn, for thou with thine +own eyes hast seen Altisidora slain, not by arrows, nor by the sword, nor +by any warlike weapon, nor by deadly poisons, but by the thought of the +sternness and scorn with which I have always treated her." + +"She might have died and welcome," said Sancho, "when she pleased and how +she pleased; and she might have left me alone, for I never made her fall +in love or scorned her. I don't know nor can I imagine how the recovery +of Altisidora, a damsel more fanciful than wise, can have, as I have said +before, anything to do with the sufferings of Sancho Panza. Now I begin +to see plainly and clearly that there are enchanters and enchanted people +in the world; and may God deliver me from them, since I can't deliver +myself; and so I beg of your worship to let me sleep and not ask me any +more questions, unless you want me to throw myself out of the window." + +"Sleep, Sancho my friend," said Don Quixote, "if the pinprodding and +pinches thou hast received and the smacks administered to thee will let +thee." + +"No pain came up to the insult of the smacks," said Sancho, "for the +simple reason that it was duennas, confound them, that gave them to me; +but once more I entreat your worship to let me sleep, for sleep is relief +from misery to those who are miserable when awake." + +"Be it so, and God be with thee," said Don Quixote. + +They fell asleep, both of them, and Cide Hamete, the author of this great +history, took this opportunity to record and relate what it was that +induced the duke and duchess to get up the elaborate plot that has been +described. The bachelor Samson Carrasco, he says, not forgetting how he +as the Knight of the Mirrors had been vanquished and overthrown by Don +Quixote, which defeat and overthrow upset all his plans, resolved to try +his hand again, hoping for better luck than he had before; and so, having +learned where Don Quixote was from the page who brought the letter and +present to Sancho's wife, Teresa Panza, he got himself new armour and +another horse, and put a white moon upon his shield, and to carry his +arms he had a mule led by a peasant, not by Tom Cecial his former squire +for fear he should be recognised by Sancho or Don Quixote. He came to the +duke's castle, and the duke informed him of the road and route Don +Quixote had taken with the intention of being present at the jousts at +Saragossa. He told him, too, of the jokes he had practised upon him, and +of the device for the disenchantment of Dulcinea at the expense of +Sancho's backside; and finally he gave him an account of the trick Sancho +had played upon his master, making him believe that Dulcinea was +enchanted and turned into a country wench; and of how the duchess, his +wife, had persuaded Sancho that it was he himself who was deceived, +inasmuch as Dulcinea was really enchanted; at which the bachelor laughed +not a little, and marvelled as well at the sharpness and simplicity of +Sancho as at the length to which Don Quixote's madness went. The duke +begged of him if he found him (whether he overcame him or not) to return +that way and let him know the result. This the bachelor did; he set out +in quest of Don Quixote, and not finding him at Saragossa, he went on, +and how he fared has been already told. He returned to the duke's castle +and told him all, what the conditions of the combat were, and how Don +Quixote was now, like a loyal knight-errant, returning to keep his +promise of retiring to his village for a year, by which time, said the +bachelor, he might perhaps be cured of his madness; for that was the +object that had led him to adopt these disguises, as it was a sad thing +for a gentleman of such good parts as Don Quixote to be a madman. And so +he took his leave of the duke, and went home to his village to wait there +for Don Quixote, who was coming after him. Thereupon the duke seized the +opportunity of practising this mystification upon him; so much did he +enjoy everything connected with Sancho and Don Quixote. He had the roads +about the castle far and near, everywhere he thought Don Quixote was +likely to pass on his return, occupied by large numbers of his servants +on foot and on horseback, who were to bring him to the castle, by fair +means or foul, if they met him. They did meet him, and sent word to the +duke, who, having already settled what was to be done, as soon as he +heard of his arrival, ordered the torches and lamps in the court to be +lit and Altisidora to be placed on the catafalque with all the pomp and +ceremony that has been described, the whole affair being so well arranged +and acted that it differed but little from reality. And Cide Hamete says, +moreover, that for his part he considers the concocters of the joke as +crazy as the victims of it, and that the duke and duchess were not two +fingers' breadth removed from being something like fools themselves when +they took such pains to make game of a pair of fools. + +As for the latter, one was sleeping soundly and the other lying awake +occupied with his desultory thoughts, when daylight came to them bringing +with it the desire to rise; for the lazy down was never a delight to Don +Quixote, victor or vanquished. Altisidora, come back from death to life +as Don Quixote fancied, following up the freak of her lord and lady, +entered the chamber, crowned with the garland she had worn on the +catafalque and in a robe of white taffeta embroidered with gold flowers, +her hair flowing loose over her shoulders, and leaning upon a staff of +fine black ebony. Don Quixote, disconcerted and in confusion at her +appearance, huddled himself up and well-nigh covered himself altogether +with the sheets and counterpane of the bed, tongue-tied, and unable to +offer her any civility. Altisidora seated herself on a chair at the head +of the bed, and, after a deep sigh, said to him in a feeble, soft voice, +"When women of rank and modest maidens trample honour under foot, and +give a loose to the tongue that breaks through every impediment, +publishing abroad the inmost secrets of their hearts, they are reduced to +sore extremities. Such a one am I, Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha, +crushed, conquered, love-smitten, but yet patient under suffering and +virtuous, and so much so that my heart broke with grief and I lost my +life. For the last two days I have been dead, slain by the thought of the +cruelty with which thou hast treated me, obdurate knight, + +O harder thou than marble to my plaint; + +or at least believed to be dead by all who saw me; and had it not been +that Love, taking pity on me, let my recovery rest upon the sufferings of +this good squire, there I should have remained in the other world." + +"Love might very well have let it rest upon the sufferings of my ass, and +I should have been obliged to him," said Sancho. "But tell me, +senora--and may heaven send you a tenderer lover than my master-what did +you see in the other world? What goes on in hell? For of course that's +where one who dies in despair is bound for." + +"To tell you the truth," said Altisidora, "I cannot have died outright, +for I did not go into hell; had I gone in, it is very certain I should +never have come out again, do what I might. The truth is, I came to the +gate, where some dozen or so of devils were playing tennis, all in +breeches and doublets, with falling collars trimmed with Flemish +bonelace, and ruffles of the same that served them for wristbands, with +four fingers' breadth of the arms exposed to make their hands look +longer; in their hands they held rackets of fire; but what amazed me +still more was that books, apparently full of wind and rubbish, served +them for tennis balls, a strange and marvellous thing; this, however, did +not astonish me so much as to observe that, although with players it is +usual for the winners to be glad and the losers sorry, there in that game +all were growling, all were snarling, and all were cursing one another." +"That's no wonder," said Sancho; "for devils, whether playing or not, can +never be content, win or lose." + +"Very likely," said Altisidora; "but there is another thing that +surprises me too, I mean surprised me then, and that was that no ball +outlasted the first throw or was of any use a second time; and it was +wonderful the constant succession there was of books, new and old. To one +of them, a brand-new, well-bound one, they gave such a stroke that they +knocked the guts out of it and scattered the leaves about. 'Look what +book that is,' said one devil to another, and the other replied, 'It is +the "Second Part of the History of Don Quixote of La Mancha," not by Cide +Hamete, the original author, but by an Aragonese who by his own account +is of Tordesillas.' 'Out of this with it,' said the first, 'and into the +depths of hell with it out of my sight.' 'Is it so bad?' said the other. +'So bad is it,' said the first, 'that if I had set myself deliberately to +make a worse, I could not have done it.' They then went on with their +game, knocking other books about; and I, having heard them mention the +name of Don Quixote whom I love and adore so, took care to retain this +vision in my memory." + +"A vision it must have been, no doubt," said Don Quixote, "for there is +no other I in the world; this history has been going about here for some +time from hand to hand, but it does not stay long in any, for everybody +gives it a taste of his foot. I am not disturbed by hearing that I am +wandering in a fantastic shape in the darkness of the pit or in the +daylight above, for I am not the one that history treats of. If it should +be good, faithful, and true, it will have ages of life; but if it should +be bad, from its birth to its burial will not be a very long journey." + +Altisidora was about to proceed with her complaint against Don Quixote, +when he said to her, "I have several times told you, senora that it +grieves me you should have set your affections upon me, as from mine they +can only receive gratitude, but no return. I was born to belong to +Dulcinea del Toboso, and the fates, if there are any, dedicated me to +her; and to suppose that any other beauty can take the place she occupies +in my heart is to suppose an impossibility. This frank declaration should +suffice to make you retire within the bounds of your modesty, for no one +can bind himself to do impossibilities." + +Hearing this, Altisidora, with a show of anger and agitation, exclaimed, +"God's life! Don Stockfish, soul of a mortar, stone of a date, more +obstinate and obdurate than a clown asked a favour when he has his mind +made up, if I fall upon you I'll tear your eyes out! Do you fancy, Don +Vanquished, Don Cudgelled, that I died for your sake? All that you have +seen to-night has been make-believe; I'm not the woman to let the black +of my nail suffer for such a camel, much less die!" + +"That I can well believe," said Sancho; "for all that about lovers pining +to death is absurd; they may talk of it, but as for doing it-Judas may +believe that!" + +While they were talking, the musician, singer, and poet, who had sung the +two stanzas given above came in, and making a profound obeisance to Don +Quixote said, "Will your worship, sir knight, reckon and retain me in the +number of your most faithful servants, for I have long been a great +admirer of yours, as well because of your fame as because of your +achievements?" "Will your worship tell me who you are," replied Don +Quixote, "so that my courtesy may be answerable to your deserts?" The +young man replied that he was the musician and songster of the night +before. "Of a truth," said Don Quixote, "your worship has a most +excellent voice; but what you sang did not seem to me very much to the +purpose; for what have Garcilasso's stanzas to do with the death of this +lady?" + +"Don't be surprised at that," returned the musician; "for with the callow +poets of our day the way is for every one to write as he pleases and +pilfer where he chooses, whether it be germane to the matter or not, and +now-a-days there is no piece of silliness they can sing or write that is +not set down to poetic licence." + +Don Quixote was about to reply, but was prevented by the duke and +duchess, who came in to see him, and with them there followed a long and +delightful conversation, in the course of which Sancho said so many droll +and saucy things that he left the duke and duchess wondering not only at +his simplicity but at his sharpness. Don Quixote begged their permission +to take his departure that same day, inasmuch as for a vanquished knight +like himself it was fitter he should live in a pig-sty than in a royal +palace. They gave it very readily, and the duchess asked him if +Altisidora was in his good graces. + +He replied, "Senora, let me tell your ladyship that this damsel's ailment +comes entirely of idleness, and the cure for it is honest and constant +employment. She herself has told me that lace is worn in hell; and as she +must know how to make it, let it never be out of her hands; for when she +is occupied in shifting the bobbins to and fro, the image or images of +what she loves will not shift to and fro in her thoughts; this is the +truth, this is my opinion, and this is my advice." + +"And mine," added Sancho; "for I never in all my life saw a lace-maker +that died for love; when damsels are at work their minds are more set on +finishing their tasks than on thinking of their loves. I speak from my +own experience; for when I'm digging I never think of my old woman; I +mean my Teresa Panza, whom I love better than my own eyelids." "You say +well, Sancho," said the duchess, "and I will take care that my Altisidora +employs herself henceforward in needlework of some sort; for she is +extremely expert at it." "There is no occasion to have recourse to that +remedy, senora," said Altisidora; "for the mere thought of the cruelty +with which this vagabond villain has treated me will suffice to blot him +out of my memory without any other device; with your highness's leave I +will retire, not to have before my eyes, I won't say his rueful +countenance, but his abominable, ugly looks." "That reminds me of the +common saying, that 'he that rails is ready to forgive,'" said the duke. + +Altisidora then, pretending to wipe away her tears with a handkerchief, +made an obeisance to her master and mistress and quitted the room. + +"Ill luck betide thee, poor damsel," said Sancho, "ill luck betide thee! +Thou hast fallen in with a soul as dry as a rush and a heart as hard as +oak; had it been me, i'faith 'another cock would have crowed to thee.'" + +So the conversation came to an end, and Don Quixote dressed himself and +dined with the duke and duchess, and set out the same evening. + +Chapter LXXI. - +Of what passed between Don Quixote and his Squire Sancho on the way to +their village + +The vanquished and afflicted Don Quixote went along very downcast in one +respect and very happy in another. His sadness arose from his defeat, and +his satisfaction from the thought of the virtue that lay in Sancho, as +had been proved by the resurrection of Altisidora; though it was with +difficulty he could persuade himself that the love-smitten damsel had +been really dead. Sancho went along anything but cheerful, for it grieved +him that Altisidora had not kept her promise of giving him the smocks; +and turning this over in his mind he said to his master, "Surely, senor, +I'm the most unlucky doctor in the world; there's many a physician that, +after killing the sick man he had to cure, requires to be paid for his +work, though it is only signing a bit of a list of medicines, that the +apothecary and not he makes up, and, there, his labour is over; but with +me though to cure somebody else costs me drops of blood, smacks, pinches, +pinproddings, and whippings, nobody gives me a farthing. Well, I swear by +all that's good if they put another patient into my hands, they'll have +to grease them for me before I cure him; for, as they say, 'it's by his +singing the abbot gets his dinner,' and I'm not going to believe that +heaven has bestowed upon me the virtue I have, that I should be dealing +it out to others all for nothing." + +"Thou art right, Sancho my friend," said Don Quixote, "and Altisidora has +behaved very badly in not giving thee the smocks she promised; and +although that virtue of thine is gratis data--as it has cost thee no +study whatever, any more than such study as thy personal sufferings may +be--I can say for myself that if thou wouldst have payment for the lashes +on account of the disenchant of Dulcinea, I would have given it to thee +freely ere this. I am not sure, however, whether payment will comport +with the cure, and I would not have the reward interfere with the +medicine. I think there will be nothing lost by trying it; consider how +much thou wouldst have, Sancho, and whip thyself at once, and pay thyself +down with thine own hand, as thou hast money of mine." + +At this proposal Sancho opened his eyes and his ears a palm's breadth +wide, and in his heart very readily acquiesced in whipping himself, and +said he to his master, "Very well then, senor, I'll hold myself in +readiness to gratify your worship's wishes if I'm to profit by it; for +the love of my wife and children forces me to seem grasping. Let your +worship say how much you will pay me for each lash I give myself." + +"If Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "I were to requite thee as the +importance and nature of the cure deserves, the treasures of Venice, the +mines of Potosi, would be insufficient to pay thee. See what thou hast of +mine, and put a price on each lash." + +"Of them," said Sancho, "there are three thousand three hundred and odd; +of these I have given myself five, the rest remain; let the five go for +the odd ones, and let us take the three thousand three hundred, which at +a quarter real apiece (for I will not take less though the whole world +should bid me) make three thousand three hundred quarter reals; the three +thousand are one thousand five hundred half reals, which make seven +hundred and fifty reals; and the three hundred make a hundred and fifty +half reals, which come to seventy-five reals, which added to the seven +hundred and fifty make eight hundred and twenty-five reals in all. These +I will stop out of what I have belonging to your worship, and I'll return +home rich and content, though well whipped, for 'there's no taking +trout'--but I say no more." + +"O blessed Sancho! O dear Sancho!" said Don Quixote; "how we shall be +bound to serve thee, Dulcinea and I, all the days of our lives that +heaven may grant us! If she returns to her lost shape (and it cannot be +but that she will) her misfortune will have been good fortune, and my +defeat a most happy triumph. But look here, Sancho; when wilt thou begin +the scourging? For if thou wilt make short work of it, I will give thee a +hundred reals over and above." + +"When?" said Sancho; "this night without fail. Let your worship order it +so that we pass it out of doors and in the open air, and I'll scarify +myself." + +Night, longed for by Don Quixote with the greatest anxiety in the world, +came at last, though it seemed to him that the wheels of Apollo's car had +broken down, and that the day was drawing itself out longer than usual, +just as is the case with lovers, who never make the reckoning of their +desires agree with time. They made their way at length in among some +pleasant trees that stood a little distance from the road, and there +vacating Rocinante's saddle and Dapple's pack-saddle, they stretched +themselves on the green grass and made their supper off Sancho's stores, +and he making a powerful and flexible whip out of Dapple's halter and +headstall retreated about twenty paces from his master among some beech +trees. Don Quixote seeing him march off with such resolution and spirit, +said to him, "Take care, my friend, not to cut thyself to pieces; allow +the lashes to wait for one another, and do not be in so great a hurry as +to run thyself out of breath midway; I mean, do not lay on so strenuously +as to make thy life fail thee before thou hast reached the desired +number; and that thou mayest not lose by a card too much or too little, I +will station myself apart and count on my rosary here the lashes thou +givest thyself. May heaven help thee as thy good intention deserves." + +"'Pledges don't distress a good payer,'" said Sancho; "I mean to lay on +in such a way as without killing myself to hurt myself, for in that, no +doubt, lies the essence of this miracle." + +He then stripped himself from the waist upwards, and snatching up the +rope he began to lay on and Don Quixote to count the lashes. He might +have given himself six or eight when he began to think the joke no +trifle, and its price very low; and holding his hand for a moment, he +told his master that he cried off on the score of a blind bargain, for +each of those lashes ought to be paid for at the rate of half a real +instead of a quarter. + +"Go on, Sancho my friend, and be not disheartened," said Don Quixote; +"for I double the stakes as to price." + +"In that case," said Sancho, "in God's hand be it, and let it rain +lashes." But the rogue no longer laid them on his shoulders, but laid on +to the trees, with such groans every now and then, that one would have +thought at each of them his soul was being plucked up by the roots. Don +Quixote, touched to the heart, and fearing he might make an end of +himself, and that through Sancho's imprudence he might miss his own +object, said to him, "As thou livest, my friend, let the matter rest +where it is, for the remedy seems to me a very rough one, and it will be +well to have patience; 'Zamora was not won in an hour.' If I have not +reckoned wrong thou hast given thyself over a thousand lashes; that is +enough for the present; 'for the ass,' to put it in homely phrase, 'bears +the load, but not the overload.'" + +"No, no, senor," replied Sancho; "it shall never be said of me, 'The +money paid, the arms broken;' go back a little further, your worship, and +let me give myself at any rate a thousand lashes more; for in a couple of +bouts like this we shall have finished off the lot, and there will be +even cloth to spare." + +"As thou art in such a willing mood," said Don Quixote, "may heaven aid +thee; lay on and I'll retire." + +Sancho returned to his task with so much resolution that he soon had the +bark stripped off several trees, such was the severity with which he +whipped himself; and one time, raising his voice, and giving a beech a +tremendous lash, he cried out, "Here dies Samson, and all with him!" + +At the sound of his piteous cry and of the stroke of the cruel lash, Don +Quixote ran to him at once, and seizing the twisted halter that served +him for a courbash, said to him, "Heaven forbid, Sancho my friend, that +to please me thou shouldst lose thy life, which is needed for the support +of thy wife and children; let Dulcinea wait for a better opportunity, and +I will content myself with a hope soon to be realised, and have patience +until thou hast gained fresh strength so as to finish off this business +to the satisfaction of everybody." + +"As your worship will have it so, senor," said Sancho, "so be it; but +throw your cloak over my shoulders, for I'm sweating and I don't want to +take cold; it's a risk that novice disciplinants run." + +Don Quixote obeyed, and stripping himself covered Sancho, who slept until +the sun woke him; they then resumed their journey, which for the time +being they brought to an end at a village that lay three leagues farther +on. They dismounted at a hostelry which Don Quixote recognised as such +and did not take to be a castle with moat, turrets, portcullis, and +drawbridge; for ever since he had been vanquished he talked more +rationally about everything, as will be shown presently. They quartered +him in a room on the ground floor, where in place of leather hangings +there were pieces of painted serge such as they commonly use in villages. +On one of them was painted by some very poor hand the Rape of Helen, when +the bold guest carried her off from Menelaus, and on the other was the +story of Dido and AEneas, she on a high tower, as though she were making +signals with a half sheet to her fugitive guest who was out at sea flying +in a frigate or brigantine. He noticed in the two stories that Helen did +not go very reluctantly, for she was laughing slyly and roguishly; but +the fair Dido was shown dropping tears the size of walnuts from her eyes. +Don Quixote as he looked at them observed, "Those two ladies were very +unfortunate not to have been born in this age, and I unfortunate above +all men not to have been born in theirs. Had I fallen in with those +gentlemen, Troy would not have been burned or Carthage destroyed, for it +would have been only for me to slay Paris, and all these misfortunes +would have been avoided." + +"I'll lay a bet," said Sancho, "that before long there won't be a tavern, +roadside inn, hostelry, or barber's shop where the story of our doings +won't be painted up; but I'd like it painted by the hand of a better +painter than painted these." + +"Thou art right, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "for this painter is like +Orbaneja, a painter there was at Ubeda, who when they asked him what he +was painting, used to say, 'Whatever it may turn out; and if he chanced +to paint a cock he would write under it, 'This is a cock,' for fear they +might think it was a fox. The painter or writer, for it's all the same, +who published the history of this new Don Quixote that has come out, must +have been one of this sort I think, Sancho, for he painted or wrote +'whatever it might turn out;' or perhaps he is like a poet called Mauleon +that was about the Court some years ago, who used to answer at haphazard +whatever he was asked, and on one asking him what Deum de Deo meant, he +replied De donde diere. But, putting this aside, tell me, Sancho, hast +thou a mind to have another turn at thyself to-night, and wouldst thou +rather have it indoors or in the open air?" + +"Egad, senor," said Sancho, "for what I'm going to give myself, it comes +all the same to me whether it is in a house or in the fields; still I'd +like it to be among trees; for I think they are company for me and help +me to bear my pain wonderfully." + +"And yet it must not be, Sancho my friend," said Don Quixote; "but, to +enable thee to recover strength, we must keep it for our own village; for +at the latest we shall get there the day after tomorrow." + +Sancho said he might do as he pleased; but that for his own part he would +like to finish off the business quickly before his blood cooled and while +he had an appetite, because "in delay there is apt to be danger" very +often, and "praying to God and plying the hammer," and "one take was +better than two I'll give thee's," and "a sparrow in the hand than a +vulture on the wing." + +"For God's sake, Sancho, no more proverbs!" exclaimed Don Quixote; "it +seems to me thou art becoming sicut erat again; speak in a plain, simple, +straight-forward way, as I have often told thee, and thou wilt find the +good of it." + +"I don't know what bad luck it is of mine," argument to my mind; however, +I mean to mend said Sancho, "but I can't utter a word without a proverb +that is not as good as an argument to my mind; however, I mean to mend if +I can;" and so for the present the conversation ended. + +Chapter LXXII. - +Of how Don Quixote and Sancho reached their village + +All that day Don Quixote and Sancho remained in the village and inn +waiting for night, the one to finish off his task of scourging in the +open country, the other to see it accomplished, for therein lay the +accomplishment of his wishes. Meanwhile there arrived at the hostelry a +traveller on horseback with three or four servants, one of whom said to +him who appeared to be the master, "Here, Senor Don Alvaro Tarfe, your +worship may take your siesta to-day; the quarters seem clean and cool." + +When he heard this Don Quixote said to Sancho, "Look here, Sancho; on +turning over the leaves of that book of the Second Part of my history I +think I came casually upon this name of Don Alvaro Tarfe." + +"Very likely," said Sancho; "we had better let him dismount, and +by-and-by we can ask about it." + +The gentleman dismounted, and the landlady gave him a room on the ground +floor opposite Don Quixote's and adorned with painted serge hangings of +the same sort. The newly arrived gentleman put on a summer coat, and +coming out to the gateway of the hostelry, which was wide and cool, +addressing Don Quixote, who was pacing up and down there, he asked, "In +what direction your worship bound, gentle sir?" + +"To a village near this which is my own village," replied Don Quixote; +"and your worship, where are you bound for?" + +"I am going to Granada, senor," said the gentleman, "to my own country." + +"And a goodly country," said Don Quixote; "but will your worship do me +the favour of telling me your name, for it strikes me it is of more +importance to me to know it than I can tell you." + +"My name is Don Alvaro Tarfe," replied the traveller. + +To which Don Quixote returned, "I have no doubt whatever that your +worship is that Don Alvaro Tarfe who appears in print in the Second Part +of the history of Don Quixote of La Mancha, lately printed and published +by a new author." + +"I am the same," replied the gentleman; "and that same Don Quixote, the +principal personage in the said history, was a very great friend of mine, +and it was I who took him away from home, or at least induced him to come +to some jousts that were to be held at Saragossa, whither I was going +myself; indeed, I showed him many kindnesses, and saved him from having +his shoulders touched up by the executioner because of his extreme +rashness." + +"Tell me, Senor Don Alvaro," said Don Quixote, "am I at all like that Don +Quixote you talk of?" + +"No indeed," replied the traveller, "not a bit." + +"And that Don Quixote-" said our one, "had he with him a squire called +Sancho Panza?" + +"He had," said Don Alvaro; "but though he had the name of being very +droll, I never heard him say anything that had any drollery in it." + +"That I can well believe," said Sancho at this, "for to come out with +drolleries is not in everybody's line; and that Sancho your worship +speaks of, gentle sir, must be some great scoundrel, dunderhead, and +thief, all in one; for I am the real Sancho Panza, and I have more +drolleries than if it rained them; let your worship only try; come along +with me for a year or so, and you will find they fall from me at every +turn, and so rich and so plentiful that though mostly I don't know what I +am saying I make everybody that hears me laugh. And the real Don Quixote +of La Mancha, the famous, the valiant, the wise, the lover, the righter +of wrongs, the guardian of minors and orphans, the protector of widows, +the killer of damsels, he who has for his sole mistress the peerless +Dulcinea del Toboso, is this gentleman before you, my master; all other +Don Quixotes and all other Sancho Panzas are dreams and mockeries." + +"By God I believe it," said Don Alvaro; "for you have uttered more +drolleries, my friend, in the few words you have spoken than the other +Sancho Panza in all I ever heard from him, and they were not a few. He +was more greedy than well-spoken, and more dull than droll; and I am +convinced that the enchanters who persecute Don Quixote the Good have +been trying to persecute me with Don Quixote the Bad. But I don't know +what to say, for I am ready to swear I left him shut up in the Casa del +Nuncio at Toledo, and here another Don Quixote turns up, though a very +different one from mine." + +"I don't know whether I am good," said Don Quixote, "but I can safely say +I am not 'the Bad;' and to prove it, let me tell you, Senor Don Alvaro +Tarfe, I have never in my life been in Saragossa; so far from that, when +it was told me that this imaginary Don Quixote had been present at the +jousts in that city, I declined to enter it, in order to drag his +falsehood before the face of the world; and so I went on straight to +Barcelona, the treasure-house of courtesy, haven of strangers, asylum of +the poor, home of the valiant, champion of the wronged, pleasant exchange +of firm friendships, and city unrivalled in site and beauty. And though +the adventures that befell me there are not by any means matters of +enjoyment, but rather of regret, I do not regret them, simply because I +have seen it. In a word, Senor Don Alvaro Tarfe, I am Don Quixote of La +Mancha, the one that fame speaks of, and not the unlucky one that has +attempted to usurp my name and deck himself out in my ideas. I entreat +your worship by your devoir as a gentleman to be so good as to make a +declaration before the alcalde of this village that you never in all your +life saw me until now, and that neither am I the Don Quixote in print in +the Second Part, nor this Sancho Panza, my squire, the one your worship +knew." + +"That I will do most willingly," replied Don Alvaro; "though it amazes me +to find two Don Quixotes and two Sancho Panzas at once, as much alike in +name as they differ in demeanour; and again I say and declare that what I +saw I cannot have seen, and that what happened me cannot have happened." + +"No doubt your worship is enchanted, like my lady Dulcinea del Toboso," +said Sancho; "and would to heaven your disenchantment rested on my giving +myself another three thousand and odd lashes like what I'm giving myself +for her, for I'd lay them on without looking for anything." + +"I don't understand that about the lashes," said Don Alvaro. Sancho +replied that it was a long story to tell, but he would tell him if they +happened to be going the same road. + +By this dinner-time arrived, and Don Quixote and Don Alvaro dined +together. The alcalde of the village came by chance into the inn together +with a notary, and Don Quixote laid a petition before him, showing that +it was requisite for his rights that Don Alvaro Tarfe, the gentleman +there present, should make a declaration before him that he did not know +Don Quixote of La Mancha, also there present, and that he was not the one +that was in print in a history entitled "Second Part of Don Quixote of La +Mancha, by one Avellaneda of Tordesillas." The alcalde finally put it in +legal form, and the declaration was made with all the formalities +required in such cases, at which Don Quixote and Sancho were in high +delight, as if a declaration of the sort was of any great importance to +them, and as if their words and deeds did not plainly show the difference +between the two Don Quixotes and the two Sanchos. Many civilities and +offers of service were exchanged by Don Alvaro and Don Quixote, in the +course of which the great Manchegan displayed such good taste that he +disabused Don Alvaro of the error he was under; and he, on his part, felt +convinced he must have been enchanted, now that he had been brought in +contact with two such opposite Don Quixotes. + +Evening came, they set out from the village, and after about half a +league two roads branched off, one leading to Don Quixote's village, the +other the road Don Alvaro was to follow. In this short interval Don +Quixote told him of his unfortunate defeat, and of Dulcinea's enchantment +and the remedy, all which threw Don Alvaro into fresh amazement, and +embracing Don Quixote and Sancho he went his way, and Don Quixote went +his. That night he passed among trees again in order to give Sancho an +opportunity of working out his penance, which he did in the same fashion +as the night before, at the expense of the bark of the beech trees much +more than of his back, of which he took such good care that the lashes +would not have knocked off a fly had there been one there. The duped Don +Quixote did not miss a single stroke of the count, and he found that +together with those of the night before they made up three thousand and +twenty-nine. The sun apparently had got up early to witness the +sacrifice, and with his light they resumed their journey, discussing the +deception practised on Don Alvaro, and saying how well done it was to +have taken his declaration before a magistrate in such an unimpeachable +form. That day and night they travelled on, nor did anything worth +mention happen them, unless it was that in the course of the night Sancho +finished off his task, whereat Don Quixote was beyond measure joyful. He +watched for daylight, to see if along the road he should fall in with his +already disenchanted lady Dulcinea; and as he pursued his journey there +was no woman he met that he did not go up to, to see if she was Dulcinea +del Toboso, as he held it absolutely certain that Merlin's promises could +not lie. Full of these thoughts and anxieties, they ascended a rising +ground wherefrom they descried their own village, at the sight of which +Sancho fell on his knees exclaiming, "Open thine eyes, longed-for home, +and see how thy son Sancho Panza comes back to thee, if not very rich, +very well whipped! Open thine arms and receive, too, thy son Don Quixote, +who, if he comes vanquished by the arm of another, comes victor over +himself, which, as he himself has told me, is the greatest victory anyone +can desire. I'm bringing back money, for if I was well whipped, I went +mounted like a gentleman." + +"Have done with these fooleries," said Don Quixote; "let us push on +straight and get to our own place, where we will give free range to our +fancies, and settle our plans for our future pastoral life." + +With this they descended the slope and directed their steps to their +village. + +Chapter LXXIII. - +Of the omens Don Quixote had as he entered his own village, and other +incidents that embellish and give a colour to this great history + +At the entrance of the village, so says Cide Hamete, Don Quixote saw two +boys quarrelling on the village threshing-floor one of whom said to the +other, "Take it easy, Periquillo; thou shalt never see it again as long +as thou livest." + +Don Quixote heard this, and said he to Sancho, "Dost thou not mark, +friend, what that boy said, 'Thou shalt never see it again as long as +thou livest'?" + +"Well," said Sancho, "what does it matter if the boy said so?" + +"What!" said Don Quixote, "dost thou not see that, applied to the object +of my desires, the words mean that I am never to see Dulcinea more?" + +Sancho was about to answer, when his attention was diverted by seeing a +hare come flying across the plain pursued by several greyhounds and +sportsmen. In its terror it ran to take shelter and hide itself under +Dapple. Sancho caught it alive and presented it to Don Quixote, who was +saying, "Malum signum, malum signum! a hare flies, greyhounds chase it, +Dulcinea appears not." + +"Your worship's a strange man," said Sancho; "let's take it for granted +that this hare is Dulcinea, and these greyhounds chasing it the malignant +enchanters who turned her into a country wench; she flies, and I catch +her and put her into your worship's hands, and you hold her in your arms +and cherish her; what bad sign is that, or what ill omen is there to be +found here?" + +The two boys who had been quarrelling came over to look at the hare, and +Sancho asked one of them what their quarrel was about. He was answered by +the one who had said, "Thou shalt never see it again as long as thou +livest," that he had taken a cage full of crickets from the other boy, +and did not mean to give it back to him as long as he lived. Sancho took +out four cuartos from his pocket and gave them to the boy for the cage, +which he placed in Don Quixote's hands, saying, "There, senor! there are +the omens broken and destroyed, and they have no more to do with our +affairs, to my thinking, fool as I am, than with last year's clouds; and +if I remember rightly I have heard the curate of our village say that it +does not become Christians or sensible people to give any heed to these +silly things; and even you yourself said the same to me some time ago, +telling me that all Christians who minded omens were fools; but there's +no need of making words about it; let us push on and go into our +village." + +The sportsmen came up and asked for their hare, which Don Quixote gave +them. They then went on, and upon the green at the entrance of the town +they came upon the curate and the bachelor Samson Carrasco busy with +their breviaries. It should be mentioned that Sancho had thrown, by way +of a sumpter-cloth, over Dapple and over the bundle of armour, the +buckram robe painted with flames which they had put upon him at the +duke's castle the night Altisidora came back to life. He had also fixed +the mitre on Dapple's head, the oddest transformation and decoration that +ever ass in the world underwent. They were at once recognised by both the +curate and the bachelor, who came towards them with open arms. Don +Quixote dismounted and received them with a close embrace; and the boys, +who are lynxes that nothing escapes, spied out the ass's mitre and came +running to see it, calling out to one another, "Come here, boys, and see +Sancho Panza's ass figged out finer than Mingo, and Don Quixote's beast +leaner than ever." + +So at length, with the boys capering round them, and accompanied by the +curate and the bachelor, they made their entrance into the town, and +proceeded to Don Quixote's house, at the door of which they found his +housekeeper and niece, whom the news of his arrival had already reached. +It had been brought to Teresa Panza, Sancho's wife, as well, and she with +her hair all loose and half naked, dragging Sanchica her daughter by the +hand, ran out to meet her husband; but seeing him coming in by no means +as good case as she thought a governor ought to be, she said to him, "How +is it you come this way, husband? It seems to me you come tramping and +footsore, and looking more like a disorderly vagabond than a governor." + +"Hold your tongue, Teresa," said Sancho; "often 'where there are pegs +there are no flitches;' let's go into the house and there you'll hear +strange things. I bring money, and that's the main thing, got by my own +industry without wronging anybody." + +"You bring the money, my good husband," said Teresa, "and no matter +whether it was got this way or that; for, however you may have got it, +you'll not have brought any new practice into the world." + +Sanchica embraced her father and asked him if he brought her anything, +for she had been looking out for him as for the showers of May; and she +taking hold of him by the girdle on one side, and his wife by the hand, +while the daughter led Dapple, they made for their house, leaving Don +Quixote in his, in the hands of his niece and housekeeper, and in the +company of the curate and the bachelor. + +Don Quixote at once, without any regard to time or season, withdrew in +private with the bachelor and the curate, and in a few words told them of +his defeat, and of the engagement he was under not to quit his village +for a year, which he meant to keep to the letter without departing a +hair's breadth from it, as became a knight-errant bound by scrupulous +good faith and the laws of knight-errantry; and of how he thought of +turning shepherd for that year, and taking his diversion in the solitude +of the fields, where he could with perfect freedom give range to his +thoughts of love while he followed the virtuous pastoral calling; and he +besought them, if they had not a great deal to do and were not prevented +by more important business, to consent to be his companions, for he would +buy sheep enough to qualify them for shepherds; and the most important +point of the whole affair, he could tell them, was settled, for he had +given them names that would fit them to a T. The curate asked what they +were. Don Quixote replied that he himself was to be called the shepherd +Quixotize and the bachelor the shepherd Carrascon, and the curate the +shepherd Curambro, and Sancho Panza the shepherd Pancino. + +Both were astounded at Don Quixote's new craze; however, lest he should +once more make off out of the village from them in pursuit of his +chivalry, they trusting that in the course of the year he might be cured, +fell in with his new project, applauded his crazy idea as a bright one, +and offered to share the life with him. "And what's more," said Samson +Carrasco, "I am, as all the world knows, a very famous poet, and I'll be +always making verses, pastoral, or courtly, or as it may come into my +head, to pass away our time in those secluded regions where we shall be +roaming. But what is most needful, sirs, is that each of us should choose +the name of the shepherdess he means to glorify in his verses, and that +we should not leave a tree, be it ever so hard, without writing up and +carving her name on it, as is the habit and custom of love-smitten +shepherds." + +"That's the very thing," said Don Quixote; "though I am relieved from +looking for the name of an imaginary shepherdess, for there's the +peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, the glory of these brooksides, the ornament +of these meadows, the mainstay of beauty, the cream of all the graces, +and, in a word, the being to whom all praise is appropriate, be it ever +so hyperbolical." + +"Very true," said the curate; "but we the others must look about for +accommodating shepherdesses that will answer our purpose one way or +another." + +"And," added Samson Carrasco, "if they fail us, we can call them by the +names of the ones in print that the world is filled with, Filidas, +Amarilises, Dianas, Fleridas, Galateas, Belisardas; for as they sell them +in the market-places we may fairly buy them and make them our own. If my +lady, or I should say my shepherdess, happens to be called Ana, I'll sing +her praises under the name of Anarda, and if Francisca, I'll call her +Francenia, and if Lucia, Lucinda, for it all comes to the same thing; and +Sancho Panza, if he joins this fraternity, may glorify his wife Teresa +Panza as Teresaina." + +Don Quixote laughed at the adaptation of the name, and the curate +bestowed vast praise upon the worthy and honourable resolution he had +made, and again offered to bear him company all the time that he could +spare from his imperative duties. And so they took their leave of him, +recommending and beseeching him to take care of his health and treat +himself to a suitable diet. + +It so happened his niece and the housekeeper overheard all the three of +them said; and as soon as they were gone they both of them came in to Don +Quixote, and said the niece, "What's this, uncle? Now that we were +thinking you had come back to stay at home and lead a quiet respectable +life there, are you going to get into fresh entanglements, and turn +'young shepherd, thou that comest here, young shepherd going there?' Nay! +indeed 'the straw is too hard now to make pipes of.'" + +"And," added the housekeeper, "will your worship be able to bear, out in +the fields, the heats of summer, and the chills of winter, and the +howling of the wolves? Not you; for that's a life and a business for +hardy men, bred and seasoned to such work almost from the time they were +in swaddling-clothes. Why, to make choice of evils, it's better to be a +knight-errant than a shepherd! Look here, senor; take my advice--and I'm +not giving it to you full of bread and wine, but fasting, and with fifty +years upon my head--stay at home, look after your affairs, go often to +confession, be good to the poor, and upon my soul be it if any evil comes +to you." + +"Hold your peace, my daughters," said Don Quixote; "I know very well what +my duty is; help me to bed, for I don't feel very well; and rest assured +that, knight-errant now or wandering shepherd to be, I shall never fail +to have a care for your interests, as you will see in the end." And the +good wenches (for that they undoubtedly were), the housekeeper and niece, +helped him to bed, where they gave him something to eat and made him as +comfortable as possible. + +Chapter LXXIV. - +Of how Don Quixote fell sick, and of the will he made, and how he died + +As nothing that is man's can last for ever, but all tends ever downwards +from its beginning to its end, and above all man's life, and as Don +Quixote's enjoyed no special dispensation from heaven to stay its course, +its end and close came when he least looked for it. For-whether it was of +the dejection the thought of his defeat produced, or of heaven's will +that so ordered it--a fever settled upon him and kept him in his bed for +six days, during which he was often visited by his friends the curate, +the bachelor, and the barber, while his good squire Sancho Panza never +quitted his bedside. They, persuaded that it was grief at finding himself +vanquished, and the object of his heart, the liberation and +disenchantment of Dulcinea, unattained, that kept him in this state, +strove by all the means in their power to cheer him up; the bachelor +bidding him take heart and get up to begin his pastoral life, for which +he himself, he said, had already composed an eclogue that would take the +shine out of all Sannazaro had ever written, and had bought with his own +money two famous dogs to guard the flock, one called Barcino and the +other Butron, which a herdsman of Quintanar had sold him. + +But for all this Don Quixote could not shake off his sadness. His friends +called in the doctor, who felt his pulse and was not very well satisfied +with it, and said that in any case it would be well for him to attend to +the health of his soul, as that of his body was in a bad way. Don Quixote +heard this calmly; but not so his housekeeper, his niece, and his squire, +who fell weeping bitterly, as if they had him lying dead before them. The +doctor's opinion was that melancholy and depression were bringing him to +his end. Don Quixote begged them to leave him to himself, as he had a +wish to sleep a little. They obeyed, and he slept at one stretch, as the +saying is, more than six hours, so that the housekeeper and niece thought +he was going to sleep for ever. But at the end of that time he woke up, +and in a loud voice exclaimed, "Blessed be Almighty God, who has shown me +such goodness. In truth his mercies are boundless, and the sins of men +can neither limit them nor keep them back!" + +The niece listened with attention to her uncle's words, and they struck +her as more coherent than what usually fell from him, at least during his +illness, so she asked, "What are you saying, senor? Has anything strange +occurred? What mercies or what sins of men are you talking of?" + +"The mercies, niece," said Don Quixote, "are those that God has this +moment shown me, and with him, as I said, my sins are no impediment to +them. My reason is now free and clear, rid of the dark shadows of +ignorance that my unhappy constant study of those detestable books of +chivalry cast over it. Now I see through their absurdities and +deceptions, and it only grieves me that this destruction of my illusions +has come so late that it leaves me no time to make some amends by reading +other books that might be a light to my soul. Niece, I feel myself at the +point of death, and I would fain meet it in such a way as to show that my +life has not been so ill that I should leave behind me the name of a +madman; for though I have been one, I would not that the fact should be +made plainer at my death. Call in to me, my dear, my good friends the +curate, the bachelor Samson Carrasco, and Master Nicholas the barber, for +I wish to confess and make my will." But his niece was saved the trouble +by the entrance of the three. The instant Don Quixote saw them he +exclaimed, "Good news for you, good sirs, that I am no longer Don Quixote +of La Mancha, but Alonso Quixano, whose way of life won for him the name +of Good. Now am I the enemy of Amadis of Gaul and of the whole countless +troop of his descendants; odious to me now are all the profane stories of +knight-errantry; now I perceive my folly, and the peril into which +reading them brought me; now, by God's mercy schooled into my right +senses, I loathe them." + +When the three heard him speak in this way, they had no doubt whatever +that some new craze had taken possession of him; and said Samson, "What? +Senor Don Quixote! Now that we have intelligence of the lady Dulcinea +being disenchanted, are you taking this line; now, just as we are on the +point of becoming shepherds, to pass our lives singing, like princes, are +you thinking of turning hermit? Hush, for heaven's sake, be rational and +let's have no more nonsense." + +"All that nonsense," said Don Quixote, "that until now has been a reality +to my hurt, my death will, with heaven's help, turn to my good. I feel, +sirs, that I am rapidly drawing near death; a truce to jesting; let me +have a confessor to confess me, and a notary to make my will; for in +extremities like this, man must not trifle with his soul; and while the +curate is confessing me let some one, I beg, go for the notary." + +They looked at one another, wondering at Don Quixote's words; but, though +uncertain, they were inclined to believe him, and one of the signs by +which they came to the conclusion he was dying was this so sudden and +complete return to his senses after having been mad; for to the words +already quoted he added much more, so well expressed, so devout, and so +rational, as to banish all doubt and convince them that he was sound of +mind. The curate turned them all out, and left alone with him confessed +him. The bachelor went for the notary and returned shortly afterwards +with him and with Sancho, who, having already learned from the bachelor +the condition his master was in, and finding the housekeeper and niece +weeping, began to blubber and shed tears. + +The confession over, the curate came out saying, "Alonso Quixano the Good +is indeed dying, and is indeed in his right mind; we may now go in to him +while he makes his will." + +This news gave a tremendous impulse to the brimming eyes of the +housekeeper, niece, and Sancho Panza his good squire, making the tears +burst from their eyes and a host of sighs from their hearts; for of a +truth, as has been said more than once, whether as plain Alonso Quixano +the Good, or as Don Quixote of La Mancha, Don Quixote was always of a +gentle disposition and kindly in all his ways, and hence he was beloved, +not only by those of his own house, but by all who knew him. + +The notary came in with the rest, and as soon as the preamble of the had +been set out and Don Quixote had commended his soul to God with all the +devout formalities that are usual, coming to the bequests, he said, +"Item, it is my will that, touching certain moneys in the hands of Sancho +Panza (whom in my madness I made my squire), inasmuch as between him and +me there have been certain accounts and debits and credits, no claim be +made against him, nor any account demanded of him in respect of them; but +that if anything remain over and above, after he has paid himself what I +owe him, the balance, which will be but little, shall be his, and much +good may it do him; and if, as when I was mad I had a share in giving him +the government of an island, so, now that I am in my senses, I could give +him that of a kingdom, it should be his, for the simplicity of his +character and the fidelity of his conduct deserve it." And then, turning +to Sancho, he said, "Forgive me, my friend, that I led thee to seem as +mad as myself, making thee fall into the same error I myself fell into, +that there were and still are knights-errant in the world." + +"Ah!" said Sancho weeping, "don't die, master, but take my advice and +live many years; for the foolishest thing a man can do in this life is to +let himself die without rhyme or reason, without anybody killing him, or +any hands but melancholy's making an end of him. Come, don't be lazy, but +get up from your bed and let us take to the fields in shepherd's trim as +we agreed. Perhaps behind some bush we shall find the lady Dulcinea +disenchanted, as fine as fine can be. If it be that you are dying of +vexation at having been vanquished, lay the blame on me, and say you were +overthrown because I had girthed Rocinante badly; besides you must have +seen in your books of chivalry that it is a common thing for knights to +upset one another, and for him who is conquered to-day to be conqueror +tomorrow." + +"Very true," said Samson, "and good Sancho Panza's view of these cases is +quite right." + +"Sirs, not so fast," said Don Quixote, "'in last year's nests there are +no birds this year.' I was mad, now I am in my senses; I was Don Quixote +of La Mancha, I am now, as I said, Alonso Quixano the Good; and may my +repentance and sincerity restore me to the esteem you used to have for +me; and now let Master Notary proceed. + +"Item, I leave all my property absolutely to Antonia Quixana my niece, +here present, after all has been deducted from the most available portion +of it that may be required to satisfy the bequests I have made. And the +first disbursement I desire to be made is the payment of the wages I owe +for the time my housekeeper has served me, with twenty ducats, over and +above, for a gown. The curate and the bachelor Samson Carrasco, now +present, I appoint my executors. + +"Item, it is my wish that if Antonia Quixana, my niece, desires to marry, +she shall marry a man of whom it shall be first of all ascertained by +information taken that he does not know what books of chivalry are; and +if it should be proved that he does, and if, in spite of this, my niece +insists upon marrying him, and does marry him, then that she shall +forfeit the whole of what I have left her, which my executors shall +devote to works of charity as they please. + +"Item, I entreat the aforesaid gentlemen my executors, that, if any happy +chance should lead them to discover the author who is said to have +written a history now going about under the title of 'Second Part of the +Achievements of Don Quixote of La Mancha,' they beg of him on my behalf +as earnestly as they can to forgive me for having been, without intending +it, the cause of his writing so many and such monstrous absurdities as he +has written in it; for I am leaving the world with a feeling of +compunction at having provoked him to write them." + +With this he closed his will, and a faintness coming over him he +stretched himself out at full length on the bed. All were in a flutter +and made haste to relieve him, and during the three days he lived after +that on which he made his will he fainted away very often. The house was +all in confusion; but still the niece ate and the housekeeper drank and +Sancho Panza enjoyed himself; for inheriting property wipes out or +softens down in the heir the feeling of grief the dead man might be +expected to leave behind him. + +At last Don Quixote's end came, after he had received all the sacraments, +and had in full and forcible terms expressed his detestation of books of +chivalry. The notary was there at the time, and he said that in no book +of chivalry had he ever read of any knight-errant dying in his bed so +calmly and so like a Christian as Don Quixote, who amid the tears and +lamentations of all present yielded up his spirit, that is to say died. +On perceiving it the curate begged the notary to bear witness that Alonso +Quixano the Good, commonly called Don Quixote of La Mancha, had passed +away from this present life, and died naturally; and said he desired this +testimony in order to remove the possibility of any other author save +Cide Hamete Benengeli bringing him to life again falsely and making +interminable stories out of his achievements. + +Such was the end of the Ingenious Gentleman of La Mancha, whose village +Cide Hamete would not indicate precisely, in order to leave all the towns +and villages of La Mancha to contend among themselves for the right to +adopt him and claim him as a son, as the seven cities of Greece contended +for Homer. The lamentations of Sancho and the niece and housekeeper are +omitted here, as well as the new epitaphs upon his tomb; Samson Carrasco, +however, put the following lines: + +poem{ + +A doughty gentleman lies here; +A stranger all his life to fear; +Nor in his death could Death prevail, +In that last hour, to make him quail. +He for the world but little cared; +And at his feats the world was scared; +A crazy man his life he passed, +But in his senses died at last. + +}poem + +And said most sage Cide Hamete to his pen, "Rest here, hung up by this +brass wire, upon this shelf, O my pen, whether of skilful make or clumsy +cut I know not; here shalt thou remain long ages hence, unless +presumptuous or malignant story-tellers take thee down to profane thee. +But ere they touch thee warn them, and, as best thou canst, say to them: + +poem{ + +Hold off! ye weaklings; hold your hands! + Adventure it let none, +For this emprise, my lord the king, + Was meant for me alone. + +}poem + +For me alone was Don Quixote born, and I for him; it was his to act, mine +to write; we two together make but one, notwithstanding and in spite of +that pretended Tordesillesque writer who has ventured or would venture +with his great, coarse, ill-trimmed ostrich quill to write the +achievements of my valiant knight;--no burden for his shoulders, nor +subject for his frozen wit: whom, if perchance thou shouldst come to know +him, thou shalt warn to leave at rest where they lie the weary mouldering +bones of Don Quixote, and not to attempt to carry him off, in opposition +to all the privileges of death, to Old Castile, making him rise from the +grave where in reality and truth he lies stretched at full length, +powerless to make any third expedition or new sally; for the two that he +has already made, so much to the enjoyment and approval of everybody to +whom they have become known, in this as well as in foreign countries, are +quite sufficient for the purpose of turning into ridicule the whole of +those made by the whole set of the knights-errant; and so doing shalt +thou discharge thy Christian calling, giving good counsel to one that +bears ill-will to thee. And I shall remain satisfied, and proud to have +been the first who has ever enjoyed the fruit of his writings as fully as +he could desire; for my desire has been no other than to deliver over to +the detestation of mankind the false and foolish tales of the books of +chivalry, which, thanks to that of my true Don Quixote, are even now +tottering, and doubtless doomed to fall for ever. Farewell." + +% THE END diff --git a/data/samples/minimal/gullivers_travels.jonathan_swift.sst b/data/samples/minimal/gullivers_travels.jonathan_swift.sst new file mode 120000 index 0000000..3cd8c50 --- /dev/null +++ b/data/samples/minimal/gullivers_travels.jonathan_swift.sst @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +../generic/gullivers_travels.jonathan_swift.sst
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\ No newline at end of file diff --git a/data/samples/minimal/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst b/data/samples/minimal/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a305ce0 --- /dev/null +++ b/data/samples/minimal/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst @@ -0,0 +1,64867 @@ +% SiSU 0.72 + +@title: War and Peace + +@creator: + :author: Tolstoy, Leo + :translator: Maude, Aylmer; Maude, Louise Shanks + +@classify: + :type: Book + :topic_register: SiSU:markup sample:book;book:novel:historical romance|war novel;Russian:original text;original text language:Russian + :pg: 2600 + +% @rights: + +@date: + :published: 1869 + :created: 1865 + :issued: 1865 + :available: 1865 + :modified: 1869 + :added_to_site: 2004-04-12 + +% @date.translated: + +% @language: +% :document: English +% :original: Russian + +@vocabulary: none + +@make: + :headings: none; BOOK|FIRST|SECOND; none; CHAPTER; + :breaks: new=:C; break=1 + +@links: { Wikipedia entry }http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_and_peace +{ War and Peace @ SiSU }http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/war.and.peace.leo.tolstoy + +% SiSU: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu +% SiSU markup for 0.16 and later +% SiSU markup: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample +% Output: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy + +:A~ @title @creator + +BOOK ONE: 1805 + +CHAPTER I + +"Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the +Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, +if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by +that Antichrist- I really believe he is Antichrist- I will have +nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer +my 'faithful slave,' as you call yourself! But how do you do? I see +I have frightened you- sit down and tell me all the news." + +It was in July, 1805, and the speaker was the well-known Anna +Pavlovna Scherer, maid of honor and favorite of the Empress Marya +Fedorovna. With these words she greeted Prince Vasili Kuragin, a man +of high rank and importance, who was the first to arrive at her +reception. Anna Pavlovna had had a cough for some days. She was, as +she said, suffering from la grippe; grippe being then a new word in +St. Petersburg, used only by the elite. + +All her invitations without exception, written in French, and +delivered by a scarlet-liveried footman that morning, ran as follows: + +"If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince], and if the +prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too +terrible, I shall be very charmed to see you tonight between 7 and 10- +Annette Scherer." + +"Heavens! what a virulent attack!" replied the prince, not in the +least disconcerted by this reception. He had just entered, wearing +an embroidered court uniform, knee breeches, and shoes, and had +stars on his breast and a serene expression on his flat face. He spoke +in that refined French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but +thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation natural to a +man of importance who had grown old in society and at court. He went +up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting to her his bald, +scented, and shining head, and complacently seated himself on the +sofa. + +"First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your friend's +mind at rest," said he without altering his tone, beneath the +politeness and affected sympathy of which indifference and even +irony could be discerned. + +"Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be calm in times +like these if one has any feeling?" said Anna Pavlovna. "You are +staying the whole evening, I hope?" + +"And the fete at the English ambassador's? Today is Wednesday. I +must put in an appearance there," said the prince. "My daughter is +coming for me to take me there." + +"I thought today's fete had been canceled. I confess all these +festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome." + +"If they had known that you wished it, the entertainment would +have been put off," said the prince, who, like a wound-up clock, by +force of habit said things he did not even wish to be believed. + +"Don't tease! Well, and what has been decided about Novosiltsev's +dispatch? You know everything." + +"What can one say about it?" replied the prince in a cold, +listless tone. "What has been decided? They have decided that +Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe that we are ready to +burn ours." + +Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating a +stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the contrary, despite her forty +years, overflowed with animation and impulsiveness. To be an +enthusiast had become her social vocation and, sometimes even when she +did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order not to +disappoint the expectations of those who knew her. The subdued smile +which, though it did not suit her faded features, always played +round her lips expressed, as in a spoiled child, a continual +consciousness of her charming defect, which she neither wished, nor +could, nor considered it necessary, to correct. + +In the midst of a conversation on political matters Anna Pavlovna +burst out: + +"Oh, don't speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don't understand +things, but Austria never has wished, and does not wish, for war. +She is betraying us! Russia alone must save Europe. Our gracious +sovereign recognizes his high vocation and will be true to it. That is +the one thing I have faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to +perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous and noble +that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his vocation and +crush the hydra of revolution, which has become more terrible than +ever in the person of this murderer and villain! We alone must +avenge the blood of the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely +on?... England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot +understand the Emperor Alexander's loftiness of soul. She has +refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and still seeks, some +secret motive in our actions. What answer did Novosiltsev get? None. +The English have not understood and cannot understand the +self-abnegation of our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only +desires the good of mankind. And what have they promised? Nothing! And +what little they have promised they will not perform! Prussia has +always declared that Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe +is powerless before him.... And I don't believe a word that Hardenburg +says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality is just a +trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny of our adored +monarch. He will save Europe!" + +She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity. + +"I think," said the prince with a smile, "that if you had been +sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would have captured the +King of Prussia's consent by assault. You are so eloquent. Will you +give me a cup of tea?" + +"In a moment. A propos," she added, becoming calm again, "I am +expecting two very interesting men tonight, le Vicomte de Mortemart, +who is connected with the Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of +the best French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the good +ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that profound thinker? He +has been received by the Emperor. Had you heard?" + +"I shall be delighted to meet them," said the prince. "But tell me," +he added with studied carelessness as if it had only just occurred +to him, though the question he was about to ask was the chief motive +of his visit, "is it true that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke +to be appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all accounts +is a poor creature." + +Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but others +were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya Fedorovna to secure it +for the baron. + +Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that neither she +nor anyone else had a right to criticize what the Empress desired or +was pleased with. + +"Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager Empress by her +sister," was all she said, in a dry and mournful tone. + +As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna's face suddenly assumed an +expression of profound and sincere devotion and respect mingled with +sadness, and this occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious +patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to show Baron +Funke beaucoup d'estime, and again her face clouded over with sadness. + +The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with the +womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual to her, Anna +Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for daring to speak he had done of +a man recommended to the Empress) and at the same time to console him, +so she said: + +"Now about your family. Do you know that since your daughter came +out everyone has been enraptured by her? They say she is amazingly +beautiful." + +The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude. + +"I often think," she continued after a short pause, drawing nearer +to the prince and smiling amiably at him as if to show that +political and social topics were ended and the time had come for +intimate conversation- "I often think how unfairly sometimes the +joys of life are distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid +children? I don't speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don't like +him," she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder and raising her +eyebrows. "Two such charming children. And really you appreciate +them less than anyone, and so you don't deserve to have them." + +And she smiled her ecstatic smile. + +"I can't help it," said the prince. "Lavater would have said I +lack the bump of paternity." + +"Don't joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do you know I +am dissatisfied with your younger son? Between ourselves" (and her +face assumed its melancholy expression), "he was mentioned at Her +Majesty's and you were pitied...." + +The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him significantly, +awaiting a reply. He frowned. + +"What would you have me do?" he said at last. "You know I did all +a father could for their education, and they have both turned out +fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet fool, but Anatole is an active +one. That is the only difference between them." He said this smiling +in a way more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles +round his mouth very clearly revealed something unexpectedly coarse +and unpleasant. + +"And why are children born to such men as you? If you were not a +father there would be nothing I could reproach you with," said Anna +Pavlovna, looking up pensively. + +"I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess that my +children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I have to bear. That +is how I explain it to myself. It can't be helped!" + +He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel fate by a +gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated. + +"Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatole?" +she asked. "They say old maids have a mania for matchmaking, and +though I don't feel that weakness in myself as yet,I know a little +person who is very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of +yours, Princess Mary Bolkonskaya." + +Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness of memory +and perception befitting a man of the world, he indicated by a +movement of the head that he was considering this information. + +"Do you know," he said at last, evidently unable to check the sad +current of his thoughts, "that Anatole is costing me forty thousand +rubles a year? And," he went on after a pause, "what will it be in +five years, if he goes on like this?" Presently he added: "That's what +we fathers have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?" + +"Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the country. He +is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had to retire from the army +under the late Emperor, and was nicknamed 'the King of Prussia.' He is +very clever but eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very +unhappy. She has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise +Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov's and will be here +tonight." + +"Listen, dear Annette," said the prince, suddenly taking Anna +Pavlovna's hand and for some reason drawing it downwards. "Arrange +that affair for me and I shall always be your most devoted slave- +slafe wigh an f, as a village elder of mine writes in his reports. She +is rich and of good family and that's all I want." + +And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to him, he raised +the maid of honor's hand to his lips, kissed it, and swung it to and +fro as he lay back in his armchair, looking in another direction. + +"Attendez," said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, "I'll speak to Lise, +young Bolkonski's wife, this very evening, and perhaps the thing can +be arranged. It shall be on your family's behalf that I'll start my +apprenticeship as old maid." + +CHAPTER II + +Anna Pavlovna's drawing room was gradually filling. The highest +Petersburg society was assembled there: people differing widely in age +and character but alike in the social circle to which they belonged. +Prince Vasili's daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her +father to the ambassador's entertainment; she wore a ball dress and +her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess +Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de Petersbourg,~^ was +also there. She had been married during the previous winter, and being +pregnant did not go to any large gatherings, but only to small +receptions. Prince Vasili's son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart, +whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others had also come. + +^~ The most fascinating woman in Petersburg. + +To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, "You have not yet seen my +aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and very gravely conducted him or +her to a little old lady, wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who +had come sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began to +arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to her aunt, Anna +Pavlovna mentioned each one's name and then left them. + +Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom +not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of +them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful +and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of +them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health +of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each +visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left +the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious +duty and did not return to her the whole evening. + +The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a +gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a +delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her +teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming +when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always +the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness +of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special +and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of +this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life +and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull +dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company +and talking to her a little while, felt as if they too were +becoming, like her, full of life and health. All who talked to her, +and at each word saw her bright smile and the constant gleam of her +white teeth, thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that +day. + +The little princess went round the table with quick, short, +swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her +dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was +doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her. "I have brought +my work," said she in French, displaying her bag and addressing all +present. "Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked trick +on me," she added, turning to her hostess. "You wrote that it was to +be quite a small reception, and just see how badly I am dressed." +And she spread out her arms to show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, +dainty gray dress, girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast. + +"Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier than anyone +else," replied Anna Pavlovna. + +"You know," said the princess in the same tone of voice and still in +French, turning to a general, "my husband is deserting me? He is going +to get himself killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?" she +added, addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an answer she +turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful Helene. + +"What a delightful woman this little princess is!" said Prince +Vasili to Anna Pavlovna. + +One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built young man with +close-cropped hair, spectacles, the light-colored breeches fashionable +at that time, a very high ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout +young man was an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known +grandee of Catherine's time who now lay dying in Moscow. The young man +had not yet entered either the military or civil service, as he had +only just returned from abroad where he had been educated, and this +was his first appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with +the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her drawing room. +But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting, a look of anxiety and +fear, as at the sight of something too large and unsuited to the +place, came over her face when she saw Pierre enter. Though he was +certainly rather bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety +could only have reference to the clever though shy, but observant +and natural, expression which distinguished him from everyone else +in that drawing room. + +"It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and visit a poor +invalid," said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an alarmed glance with her +aunt as she conducted him to her. + +Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and continued to look +round as if in search of something. On his way to the aunt he bowed to +the little princess with a pleased smile, as to an intimate +acquaintance. + +Anna Pavlovna's alarm was justified, for Pierre turned away from the +aunt without waiting to hear her speech about Her Majesty's health. +Anna Pavlovna in dismay detained him with the words: "Do you know +the Abbe Morio? He is a most interesting man." + +"Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace, and it is very +interesting but hardly feasible." + +"You think so?" rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say something and +get away to attend to her duties as hostess. But Pierre now +committed a reverse act of impoliteness. First he had left a lady +before she had finished speaking to him, and now he continued to speak +to another who wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big +feet spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking the +abbe's plan chimerical. + +"We will talk of it later," said Anna Pavlovna with a smile. + +And having got rid of this young man who did not know how to behave, +she resumed her duties as hostess and continued to listen and watch, +ready to help at any point where the conversation might happen to +flag. As the foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands +to work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has stopped or +there one that creaks or makes more noise than it should, and +hastens to check the machine or set it in proper motion, so Anna +Pavlovna moved about her drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a +too-noisy group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the +conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular motion. But amid +these cares her anxiety about Pierre was evident. She kept an +anxious watch on him when he approached the group round Mortemart to +listen to what was being said there, and again when he passed to +another group whose center was the abbe. + +Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at Anna +Pavlovna's was the first he had attended in Russia. He knew that all +the intellectual lights of Petersburg were gathered there and, like +a child in a toyshop, did not know which way to look, afraid of +missing any clever conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the +self-confident and refined expression on the faces of those present he +was always expecting to hear something very profound. At last he +came up to Morio. Here the conversation seemed interesting and he +stood waiting for an opportunity to express his own views, as young +people are fond of doing. + +CHAPTER III + +Anna Pavlovna's reception was in full swing. The spindles hummed +steadily and ceaselessly on all sides. With the exception of the aunt, +beside whom sat only one elderly lady, who with her thin careworn face +was rather out of place in this brilliant society, the whole company +had settled into three groups. One, chiefly masculine, had formed +round the abbe. Another, of young people, was grouped round the +beautiful Princess Helene, Prince Vasili's daughter, and the little +Princess Bolkonskaya, very pretty and rosy, though rather too plump +for her age. The third group was gathered round Mortemart and Anna +Pavlovna. + +The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft features and +polished manners, who evidently considered himself a celebrity but out +of politeness modestly placed himself at the disposal of the circle in +which he found himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him up +as a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d'hotel serves up as a +specially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one who had seen +it in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so Anna Pavlovna served +up to her guests, first the vicomte and then the abbe, as peculiarly +choice morsels. The group about Mortemart immediately began discussing +the murder of the Duc d'Enghien. The vicomte said that the Duc +d'Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity, and that there were +particular reasons for Buonaparte's hatred of him. + +"Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte," said Anna Pavlovna, +with a pleasant feeling that there was something a la Louis XV in +the sound of that sentence: "Contez nous cela, Vicomte." + +The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of his willingness +to comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a group round him, inviting everyone +to listen to his tale. + +"The vicomte knew the duc personally," whispered Anna Pavlovna to of +the guests. "The vicomte is a wonderful raconteur," said she to +another. "How evidently he belongs to the best society," said she to a +third; and the vicomte was served up to the company in the choicest +and most advantageous style, like a well-garnished joint of roast beef +on a hot dish. + +The vicomte wished to begin his story and gave a subtle smile. + +"Come over here, Helene, dear," said Anna Pavlovna to the +beautiful young princess who was sitting some way off, the center of +another group. + +The princess smiled. She rose with the same unchanging smile with +which she had first entered the room- the smile of a perfectly +beautiful woman. With a slight rustle of her white dress trimmed +with moss and ivy, with a gleam of white shoulders, glossy hair, and +sparkling diamonds, she passed between the men who made way for her, +not looking at any of them but smiling on all, as if graciously +allowing each the privilege of admiring her beautiful figure and +shapely shoulders, back, and bosom- which in the fashion of those days +were very much exposed- and she seemed to bring the glamour of a +ballroom with her as she moved toward Anna Pavlovna. Helene was so +lovely that not only did she not show any trace of coquetry, but on +the contrary she even appeared shy of her unquestionable and all too +victorious beauty. She seemed to wish, but to be unable, to diminish +its effect. + +"How lovely!" said everyone who saw her; and the vicomte lifted +his shoulders and dropped his eyes as if startled by something +extraordinary when she took her seat opposite and beamed upon him also +with her unchanging smile. + +"Madame, I doubt my ability before such an audience," said he, +smilingly inclining his head. + +The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table and +considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited. All the time the +story was being told she sat upright, glancing now at her beautiful +round arm, altered in shape by its pressure on the table, now at her +still more beautiful bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond +necklace. From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress, and +whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at Anna Pavlovna, at +once adopted just the expression she saw on the maid of honor's +face, and again relapsed into her radiant smile. + +The little princess had also left the tea table and followed Helene. + +"Wait a moment, I'll get my work.... Now then, what are you thinking +of?" she went on, turning to Prince Hippolyte. "Fetch me my workbag." + +There was a general movement as the princess, smiling and talking +merrily to everyone at once, sat down and gaily arranged herself in +her seat. + +"Now I am all right," she said, and asking the vicomte to begin, she +took up her work. + +Prince Hippolyte, having brought the workbag, joined the circle +and moving a chair close to hers seated himself beside her. + +Le charmant Hippolyte was surprising by his extraordinary +resemblance to his beautiful sister, but yet more by the fact that +in spite of this resemblance he was exceedingly ugly. His features +were like his sister's, but while in her case everything was lit up by +a joyous, self-satisfied, youthful, and constant smile of animation, +and by the wonderful classic beauty of her figure, his face on the +contrary was dulled by imbecility and a constant expression of +sullen self-confidence, while his body was thin and weak. His eyes, +nose, and mouth all seemed puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, +and his arms and legs always fell into unnatural positions. + +"It's not going to be a ghost story?" said he, sitting down beside +the princess and hastily adjusting his lorgnette, as if without this +instrument he could not begin to speak. + +"Why no, my dear fellow," said the astonished narrator, shrugging +his shoulders. + +"Because I hate ghost stories," said Prince Hippolyte in a tone +which showed that he only understood the meaning of his words after he +had uttered them. + +He spoke with such self-confidence that his hearers could not be +sure whether what he said was very witty or very stupid. He was +dressed in a dark-green dress coat, knee breeches of the color of +cuisse de nymphe effrayee, as he called it, shoes, and silk stockings. + +The vicomte told his tale very neatly. It was an anecdote, then +current, to the effect that the Duc d'Enghien had gone secretly to +Paris to visit Mademoiselle George; that at her house he came upon +Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the famous actress' favors, and that in +his presence Napoleon happened to fall into one of the fainting fits +to which he was subject, and was thus at the duc's mercy. The latter +spared him, and this magnanimity Bonaparte subsequently repaid by +death. + +The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at the point +where the rivals suddenly recognized one another; and the ladies +looked agitated. + +"Charming!" said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring glance at the +little princess. + +"Charming!" whispered the little princess, sticking the needle +into her work as if to testify that the interest and fascination of +the story prevented her from going on with it. + +The vicomte appreciated this silent praise and smiling gratefully +prepared to continue, but just then Anna Pavlovna, who had kept a +watchful eye on the young man who so alarmed her, noticed that he +was talking too loudly and vehemently with the abbe, so she hurried to +the rescue. Pierre had managed to start a conversation with the abbe +about the balance of power, and the latter, evidently interested by +the young man's simple-minded eagerness, was explaining his pet +theory. Both were talking and listening too eagerly and too naturally, +which was why Anna Pavlovna disapproved. + +"The means are... the balance of power in Europe and the rights of +the people," the abbe was saying. "It is only necessary for one +powerful nation like Russia- barbaric as she is said to be- to place +herself disinterestedly at the head of an alliance having for its +object the maintenance of the balance of power of Europe, and it would +save the world!" + +"But how are you to get that balance?" Pierre was beginning. + +At that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, looking severely at +Pierre, asked the Italian how he stood Russian climate. The +Italian's face instantly changed and assumed an offensively +affected, sugary expression, evidently habitual to him when conversing +with women. + +"I am so enchanted by the brilliancy of the wit and culture of the +society, more especially of the feminine society, in which I have +had the honor of being received, that I have not yet had time to think +of the climate," said he. + +Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna, the more +conveniently to keep them under observation, brought them into the +larger circle. + +CHAPTER IV + +Just them another visitor entered the drawing room: Prince Andrew +Bolkonski, the little princess' husband. He was a very handsome +young man, of medium height, with firm, clearcut features. +Everything about him, from his weary, bored expression to his quiet, +measured step, offered a most striking contrast to his quiet, little +wife. It was evident that he not only knew everyone in the drawing +room, but had found them to be so tiresome that it wearied him to look +at or listen to them. And among all these faces that he found so +tedious, none seemed to bore him so much as that of his pretty wife. +He turned away from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome +face, kissed Anna Pavlovna's hand, and screwing up his eyes scanned +the whole company. + +"You are off to the war, Prince?" said Anna Pavlovna. + +"General Kutuzov," said Bolkonski, speaking French and stressing the +last syllable of the general's name like a Frenchman, "has been +pleased to take me as an aide-de-camp...." + +"And Lise, your wife?" + +"She will go to the country." + +"Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming wife?" + +"Andre," said his wife, addressing her husband in the same +coquettish manner in which she spoke to other men, "the vicomte has +been telling us such a tale about Mademoiselle George and Buonaparte!" + +Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away. Pierre, who +from the moment Prince Andrew entered the room had watched him with +glad, affectionate eyes, now came up and took his arm. Before he +looked round Prince Andrew frowned again, expressing his annoyance +with whoever was touching his arm, but when he saw Pierre's beaming +face he gave him an unexpectedly kind and pleasant smile. + +"There now!... So you, too, are in the great world?" said he to +Pierre. + +"I knew you would be here," replied Pierre. "I will come to supper +with you. May I?" he added in a low voice so as not to disturb the +vicomte who was continuing his story. + +"No, impossible!" said Prince Andrew, laughing and pressing Pierre's +hand to show that there was no need to ask the question. He wished +to say something more, but at that moment Prince Vasili and his +daughter got up to go and the two young men rose to let them pass. + +"You must excuse me, dear Vicomte," said Prince Vasili to the +Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve in a friendly way to prevent +his rising. "This unfortunate fete at the ambassador's deprives me +of a pleasure, and obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to +leave your enchanting party," said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna. + +His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the chairs, lightly +holding up the folds of her dress, and the smile shone still more +radiantly on her beautiful face. Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, +almost frightened, eyes as she passed him. + +"Very lovely," said Prince Andrew. + +"Very," said Pierre. + +In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre's hand and said to Anna +Pavlovna: "Educate this bear for me! He has been staying with me a +whole month and this is the first time I have seen him in society. +Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the society of clever +women." + +Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in hand. She knew +his father to be a connection of Prince Vasili's. The elderly lady who +had been sitting with the old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook +Prince Vasili in the anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had +assumed had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now expressed +only anxiety and fear. + +"How about my son Boris, Prince?" said she, hurrying after him +into the anteroom. "I can't remain any longer in Petersburg. Tell me +what news I may take back to my poor boy." + +Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not very politely to +the elderly lady, even betraying some impatience, she gave him an +ingratiating and appealing smile, and took his hand that he might +not go away. + +"What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor, and then he +would be transferred to the Guards at once?" said she. + +"Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can," answered +Prince Vasili, "but it is difficult for me to ask the Emperor. I +should advise you to appeal to Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. +That would be the best way." + +The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya, belonging to one of the +best families in Russia, but she was poor, and having long been out of +society had lost her former influential connections. She had now +come to Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for her +only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili that she had +obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna's reception and had sat +listening to the vicomte's story. Prince Vasili's words frightened +her, an embittered look clouded her once handsome face, but only for a +moment; then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili's arm more +tightly. + +"Listen to me, Prince," said she. "I have never yet asked you for +anything and I never will again, nor have I ever reminded you of my +father's friendship for you; but now I entreat you for God's sake to +do this for my son- and I shall always regard you as a benefactor," +she added hurriedly. "No, don't be angry, but promise! I have asked +Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you always +were," she said, trying to smile though tears were in her eyes. + +"Papa, we shall be late," said Princess Helene, turning her +beautiful head and looking over her classically molded shoulder as she +stood waiting by the door. + +Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to be +economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and having +once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who begged of him, +he would soon be unable to ask for himself, he became chary of using +his influence. But in Princess Drubetskaya's case he felt, after her +second appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had reminded +him of what was quite true; he had been indebted to her father for the +first steps in his career. Moreover, he could see by her manners +that she was one of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made +up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their end, and +are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day after day and hour +after hour, and even to make scenes. This last consideration moved +him. + +"My dear Anna Mikhaylovna," said he with his usual familiarity and +weariness of tone, "it is almost impossible for me to do what you ask; +but to prove my devotion to you and how I respect your father's +memory, I will do the impossible- your son shall be transferred to the +Guards. Here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?" + +"My dear benefactor! This is what I expected from you- I knew your +kindness!" He turned to go. + +"Wait- just a word! When he has been transferred to the Guards..." +she faltered. "You are on good terms with Michael Ilarionovich +Kutuzov... recommend Boris to him as adjutant! Then I shall be at +rest, and then..." + +Prince Vasili smiled. + +"No, I won't promise that. You don't know how Kutuzov is pestered +since his appointment as Commander in Chief. He told me himself that +all the Moscow ladies have conspired to give him all their sons as +adjutants." + +"No, but do promise! I won't let you go! My dear benefactor..." + +"Papa," said his beautiful daughter in the same tone as before, +"we shall be late." + +"Well, au revoir! Good-by! You hear her?" + +"Then tomorrow you will speak to the Emperor?" + +"Certainly; but about Kutuzov, I don't promise." + +"Do promise, do promise, Vasili!" cried Anna Mikhaylovna as he went, +with the smile of a coquettish girl, which at one time probably came +naturally to her, but was now very ill-suited to her careworn face. + +Apparently she had forgotten her age and by force of habit +employed all the old feminine arts. But as soon as the prince had gone +her face resumed its former cold, artificial expression. She +returned to the group where the vicomte was still talking, and again +pretended to listen, while waiting till it would be time to leave. Her +task was accomplished. + +CHAPTER V + +"And what do you think of this latest comedy, the coronation at +Milan?" asked Anna Pavlovna, "and of the comedy of the people of Genoa +and Lucca laying their petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and +Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions +of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one's head whirl! It is +as if the whole world had gone crazy." + +Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the face with a +sarcastic smile. + +"'Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!'~^ They say he was very +fine when he said that," he remarked, repeating the words in +Italian: "'Dio mi l'ha dato. Guai a chi la tocchi!'" + +^~ God has given it to me, let him who touches it beware! + +"I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the glass run +over," Anna Pavlovna continued. "The sovereigns will not be able to +endure this man who is a menace to everything." + +"The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia," said the vicomte, polite +but hopeless: "The sovereigns, madame... What have they done for Louis +XVII, for the Queen, or for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!" and he +became more animated. "And believe me, they are reaping the reward +of their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! Why, they +are sending ambassadors to compliment the usurper." + +And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his position. + +Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte for some time +through his lorgnette, suddenly turned completely round toward the +little princess, and having asked for a needle began tracing the Conde +coat of arms on the table. He explained this to her with as much +gravity as if she had asked him to do it. + +"Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d' azur- maison Conde," said +he. + +The princess listened, smiling. + +"If Buonaparte remains on the throne of France a year longer," the +vicomte continued, with the air of a man who, in a matter with which +he is better acquainted than anyone else, does not listen to others +but follows the current of his own thoughts, "things will have gone +too far. By intrigues, violence, exile, and executions, French +society- I mean good French society- will have been forever destroyed, +and then..." + +He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands. Pierre wished to +make a remark, for the conversation interested him, but Anna Pavlovna, +who had him under observation, interrupted: + +"The Emperor Alexander," said she, with the melancholy which +always accompanied any reference of hers to the Imperial family, +"has declared that he will leave it to the French people themselves to +choose their own form of government; and I believe that once free from +the usurper, the whole nation will certainly throw itself into the +arms of its rightful king," she concluded, trying to be amiable to the +royalist emigrant. + +"That is doubtful," said Prince Andrew. "Monsieur le Vicomte quite +rightly supposes that matters have already gone too far. I think it +will be difficult to return to the old regime." + +"From what I have heard," said Pierre, blushing and breaking into +the conversation, "almost all the aristocracy has already gone over to +Bonaparte's side." + +"It is the Buonapartists who say that," replied the vicomte +without looking at Pierre. "At the present time it is difficult to +know the real state of French public opinion. + +"Bonaparte has said so," remarked Prince Andrew with a sarcastic +smile. + +It was evident that he did not like the vicomte and was aiming his +remarks at him, though without looking at him. + +"'I showed them the path to glory, but they did not follow it,'" +Prince Andrew continued after a short silence, again quoting +Napoleon's words. "'I opened my antechambers and they crowded in.' I +do not know how far he was justified in saying so." + +"Not in the least," replied the vicomte. "After the murder of the +duc even the most partial ceased to regard him as a hero. If to some +people," he went on, turning to Anna Pavlovna, "he ever was a hero, +after the murder of the duc there was one martyr more in heaven and +one hero less on earth." + +Before Anna Pavlovna and the others had time to smile their +appreciation of the vicomte's epigram, Pierre again broke into the +conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna felt sure he would say +something inappropriate, she was unable to stop him. + +"The execution of the Duc d'Enghien," declared Monsieur Pierre, "was +a political necessity, and it seems to me that Napoleon showed +greatness of soul by not fearing to take on himself the whole +responsibility of that deed." + +"Dieu! Mon Dieu!" muttered Anna Pavlovna in a terrified whisper. + +"What, Monsieur Pierre... Do you consider that assassination shows +greatness of soul?" said the little princess, smiling and drawing +her work nearer to her. + +"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed several voices. + +"Capital!" said Prince Hippolyte in English, and began slapping +his knee with the palm of his hand. + +The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre looked solemnly at +his audience over his spectacles and continued. + +"I say so," he continued desperately, "because the Bourbons fled +from the Revolution leaving the people to anarchy, and Napoleon +alone understood the Revolution and quelled it, and so for the general +good, he could not stop short for the sake of one man's life." + +"Won't you come over to the other table?" suggested Anna Pavlovna. + +But Pierre continued his speech without heeding her. + +"No," cried he, becoming more and more eager, "Napoleon is great +because he rose superior to the Revolution, suppressed its abuses, +preserved all that was good in it- equality of citizenship and freedom +of speech and of the press- and only for that reason did he obtain +power." + +"Yes, if having obtained power, without availing himself of it to +commit murder he had restored it to the rightful king, I should have +called him a great man," remarked the vicomte. + +"He could not do that. The people only gave him power that he +might rid them of the Bourbons and because they saw that he was a +great man. The Revolution was a grand thing!" continued Monsieur +Pierre, betraying by this desperate and provocative proposition his +extreme youth and his wish to express all that was in his mind. + +"What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well, after that... +But won't you come to this other table?" repeated Anna Pavlovna. + +"Rousseau's Contrat social," said the vicomte with a tolerant smile. + +"I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about ideas." + +"Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide," again interjected +an ironical voice. + +"Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what is most +important. What is important are the rights of man, emancipation +from prejudices, and equality of citizenship, and all these ideas +Napoleon has retained in full force." + +"Liberty and equality," said the vicomte contemptuously, as if at +last deciding seriously to prove to this youth how foolish his words +were, "high-sounding words which have long been discredited. Who +does not love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached +liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution become happier? +On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but Buonaparte has destroyed it." + +Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile from Pierre to the +vicomte and from the vicomte to their hostess. In the first moment +of Pierre's outburst Anna Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was +horror-struck. But when she saw that Pierre's sacrilegious words had +not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced herself that it was +impossible to stop him, she rallied her forces and joined the +vicomte in a vigorous attack on the orator. + +"But, my dear Monsieur Pierre," said she, "how do you explain the +fact of a great man executing a duc- or even an ordinary man who- is +innocent and untried?" + +"I should like," said the vicomte, "to ask how monsieur explains the +18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It was a swindle, and not at +all like the conduct of a great man!" + +"And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was horrible!" said the +little princess, shrugging her shoulders. + +"He's a low fellow, say what you will," remarked Prince Hippolyte. + +Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them all and smiled. +His smile was unlike the half-smile of other people. When he smiled, +his grave, even rather gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by +another- a childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed +to ask forgiveness. + +The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time saw clearly +that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as his words suggested. +All were silent. + +"How do you expect him to answer you all at once?" said Prince +Andrew. "Besides, in the actions of a statesman one has to distinguish +between his acts as a private person, as a general, and as an emperor. +So it seems to me." + +"Yes, yes, of course!" Pierre chimed in, pleased at the arrival of +this reinforcement. + +"One must admit," continued Prince Andrew, "that Napoleon as a man +was great on the bridge of Arcola, and in the hospital at Jaffa +where he gave his hand to the plague-stricken; but... but there are +other acts which it is difficult to justify." + +Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone down the awkwardness +of Pierre's remarks, rose and made a sign to his wife that it was time +to go. + +Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to everyone to +attend, and asking them all to be seated began: + +"I was told a charming Moscow story today and must treat you to +it. Excuse me, Vicomte- I must tell it in Russian or the point will be +lost...." And Prince Hippolyte began to tell his story in such Russian +as a Frenchman would speak after spending about a year in Russia. +Everyone waited, so emphatically and eagerly did he demand their +attention to his story. + +"There is in Moscow a lady, une dame, and she is very stingy. She +must have two footmen behind her carriage, and very big ones. That was +her taste. And she had a lady's maid, also big. She said..." + +Here Prince Hippolyte paused, evidently collecting his ideas with +difficulty. + +"She said... Oh yes! She said, 'Girl,' to the maid, 'put on a +livery, get up behind the carriage, and come with me while I make some +calls.'" + +Here Prince Hippolyte spluttered and burst out laughing long +before his audience, which produced an effect unfavorable to the +narrator. Several persons, among them the elderly lady and Anna +Pavlovna, did however smile. + +"She went. Suddenly there was a great wind. The girl lost her hat +and her long hair came down...." Here he could contain himself no +longer and went on, between gasps of laughter: "And the whole world +knew...." + +And so the anecdote ended. Though it was unintelligible why he had +told it, or why it had to be told in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna +and the others appreciated Prince Hippolyte's social tact in so +agreeably ending Pierre's unpleasant and unamiable outburst. After the +anecdote the conversation broke up into insignificant small talk about +the last and next balls, about theatricals, and who would meet whom, +and when and where. + +CHAPTER VI + +Having thanked Anna Pavlovna for her charming soiree, the guests +began to take their leave. + +Pierre was ungainly. Stout, about the average height, broad, with +huge red hands; he did not know, as the saying is, to enter a +drawing room and still less how to leave one; that is, how to say +something particularly agreeable before going away. Besides this he +was absent-minded. When he rose to go, he took up instead of his +own, the general's three-cornered hat, and held it, pulling at the +plume, till the general asked him to restore it. All his +absent-mindedness and inability to enter a room and converse in it +was, however, redeemed by his kindly, simple, and modest expression. +Anna Pavlovna turned toward him and, with a Christian mildness that +expressed forgiveness of his indiscretion, nodded and said: "I hope to +see you again, but I also hope you will change your opinions, my +dear Monsieur Pierre." + +When she said this, he did not reply and only bowed, but again +everybody saw his smile, which said nothing, unless perhaps, "Opinions +are opinions, but you see what a capital, good-natured fellow I am." +And everyone, including Anna Pavlovna, felt this. + +Prince Andrew had gone out into the hall, and, turning his shoulders +to the footman who was helping him on with his cloak, listened +indifferently to his wife's chatter with Prince Hippolyte who had also +come into the hall. Prince Hippolyte stood close to the pretty, +pregnant princess, and stared fixedly at her through his eyeglass. + +"Go in, Annette, or you will catch cold," said the little +princess, taking leave of Anna Pavlovna. "It is settled," she added in +a low voice. + +Anna Pavlovna had already managed to speak to Lise about the match +she contemplated between Anatole and the little princess' +sister-in-law. + +"I rely on you, my dear," said Anna Pavlovna, also in a low tone. +"Write to her and let me know how her father looks at the matter. Au +revoir!"- and she left the hall. + +Prince Hippolyte approached the little princess and, bending his +face close to her, began to whisper something. + +Two footmen, the princess' and his own, stood holding a shawl and +a cloak, waiting for the conversation to finish. They listened to +the French sentences which to them were meaningless, with an air of +understanding but not wishing to appear to do so. The princess as +usual spoke smilingly and listened with a laugh. + +"I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador's," said Prince +Hippolyte "-so dull-. It has been a delightful evening, has it not? +Delightful!" + +"They say the ball will be very good," replied the princess, drawing +up her downy little lip. "All the pretty women in society will be +there." + +"Not all, for you will not be there; not all," said Prince Hippolyte +smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from the footman, whom he +even pushed aside, he began wrapping it round the princess. Either +from awkwardness or intentionally (no one could have said which) after +the shawl had been adjusted he kept his arm around her for a long +time, as though embracing her. + +Still smiling, she gracefully moved away, turning and glancing at +her husband. Prince Andrew's eyes were closed, so weary and sleepy did +he seem. + +"Are you ready?" he asked his wife, looking past her. + +Prince Hippolyte hurriedly put on his cloak, which in the latest +fashion reached to his very heels, and, stumbling in it, ran out +into the porch following the princess, whom a footman was helping into +the carriage. + +"Princesse, au revoir," cried he, stumbling with his tongue as +well as with his feet. + +The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat in the +dark carriage, her husband was adjusting his saber; Prince +Hippolyte, under pretense of helping, was in everyone's way. + +"Allow me, sir," said Prince Andrew in Russian in a cold, +disagreeable tone to Prince Hippolyte who was blocking his path. + +"I am expecting you, Pierre," said the same voice, but gently and +affectionately. + +The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled. Prince Hippolyte +laughed spasmodically as he stood in the porch waiting for the vicomte +whom he had promised to take home. + +"Well, mon cher," said the vicomte, having seated himself beside +Hippolyte in the carriage, "your little princess is very nice, very +nice indeed, quite French," and he kissed the tips of his fingers. +Hippolyte burst out laughing. + +"Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your innocent airs," +continued the vicomte. "I pity the poor husband, that little officer +who gives himself the airs of a monarch." + +Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said, "And you +were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French? One +has to know how to deal with them." + +Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew's study like +one quite at home, and from habit immediately lay down on the sofa, +took from the shelf the first book that came to his hand (it was +Caesar's Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it +in the middle. + +"What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be quite ill now," +said Prince Andrew, as he entered the study, rubbing his small white +hands. + +Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak. He lifted his +eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and waved his hand. + +"That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the thing in +the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is possible but- I +do not know how to express it... not by a balance of political +power...." + +It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in such +abstract conversation. + +"One can't everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher. Well, have you +at last decided on anything? Are you going to be a guardsman or a +diplomatist?" asked Prince Andrew after a momentary silence. + +Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under him. + +"Really, I don't yet know. I don't like either the one or the +other." + +"But you must decide on something! Your father expects it." + +Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an abbe as tutor, +and had remained away till he was twenty. When he returned to Moscow +his father dismissed the abbe and said to the young man, "Now go to +Petersburg, look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to +anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is money. +Write to me all about it, and I will help you in everything." Pierre +had already been choosing a career for three months, and had not +decided on anything. It was about this choice that Prince Andrew was +speaking. Pierre rubbed his forehead. + +"But he must be a Freemason," said he, referring to the abbe whom he +had met that evening. + +"That is all nonsense." Prince Andrew again interrupted him, "let us +talk business. Have you been to the Horse Guards?" + +"No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking and wanted to +tell you. There is a war now against Napoleon. If it were a war for +freedom I could understand it and should be the first to enter the +army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in +the world is not right." + +Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre's childish +words. He put on the air of one who finds it impossible to reply to +such nonsense, but it would in fact have been difficult to give any +other answer than the one Prince Andrew gave to this naive question. + +"If no one fought except on his own conviction, there would be no +wars," he said. + +"And that would be splendid," said Pierre. + +Prince Andrew smiled ironically. + +"Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never come about..." + +"Well, why are you going to the war?" asked Pierre. + +"What for? I don't know. I must. Besides that I am going..." He +paused. "I am going because the life I am leading here does not suit +me!" + +CHAPTER VII + +The rustle of a woman's dress was heard in the next room. Prince +Andrew shook himself as if waking up, and his face assumed the look it +had had in Anna Pavlovna's drawing room. Pierre removed his feet +from the sofa. The princess came in. She had changed her gown for a +house dress as fresh and elegant as the other. Prince Andrew rose +and politely placed a chair for her. + +"How is it," she began, as usual in French, settling down briskly +and fussily in the easy chair, "how is it Annette never got married? +How stupid you men all are not to have married her! Excuse me for +saying so, but you have no sense about women. What an argumentative +fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!" + +"And I am still arguing with your husband. I can't understand why he +wants to go to the war," replied Pierre, addressing the princess +with none of the embarrassment so commonly shown by young men in their +intercourse with young women. + +The princess started. Evidently Pierre's words touched her to the +quick. + +"Ah, that is just what I tell him!" said she. "I don't understand +it; I don't in the least understand why men can't live without wars. +How is it that we women don't want anything of the kind, don't need +it? Now you shall judge between us. I always tell him: Here he is +Uncle's aide-de-camp, a most brilliant position. He is so well +known, so much appreciated by everyone. The other day at the +Apraksins' I heard a lady asking, 'Is that the famous Prince +Andrew?' I did indeed." She laughed. "He is so well received +everywhere. He might easily become aide-de-camp to the Emperor. You +know the Emperor spoke to him most graciously. Annette and I were +speaking of how to arrange it. What do you think?" + +Pierre looked at his friend and, noticing that he did not like the +conversation, gave no reply. + +"When are you starting?" he asked. + +"Oh, don't speak of his going, don't! I won't hear it spoken of," +said the princess in the same petulantly playful tone in which she had +spoken to Hippolyte in the drawing room and which was so plainly +ill-suited to the family circle of which Pierre was almost a member. +"Today when I remembered that all these delightful associations must +be broken off... and then you know, Andre..." (she looked +significantly at her husband) "I'm afraid, I'm afraid!" she whispered, +and a shudder ran down her back. + +Her husband looked at her as if surprised to notice that someone +besides Pierre and himself was in the room, and addressed her in a +tone of frigid politeness. + +"What is it you are afraid of, Lise? I don't understand," said he. + +"There, what egotists men all are: all, all egotists! Just for a +whim of his own, goodness only knows why, he leaves me and locks me up +alone in the country." + +"With my father and sister, remember," said Prince Andrew gently. + +"Alone all the same, without my friends.... And he expects me not to +be afraid." + +Her tone was now querulous and her lip drawn up, giving her not a +joyful, but an animal, squirrel-like expression. She paused as if +she felt it indecorous to speak of her pregnancy before Pierre, though +the gist of the matter lay in that. + +"I still can't understand what you are afraid of," said Prince +Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife. + +The princess blushed, and raised her arms with a gesture of despair. + +"No, Andrew, I must say you have changed. Oh, how you have..." + +"Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier," said Prince Andrew. +"You had better go." + +The princess said nothing, but suddenly her short downy lip +quivered. Prince Andrew rose, shrugged his shoulders, and walked about +the room. + +Pierre looked over his spectacles with naive surprise, now at him +and now at her, moved as if about to rise too, but changed his mind. + +"Why should I mind Monsieur Pierre being here?" exclaimed the little +princess suddenly, her pretty face all at once distorted by a +tearful grimace. "I have long wanted to ask you, Andrew, why you +have changed so to me? What have I done to you? You are going to the +war and have no pity for me. Why is it?" + +"Lise!" was all Prince Andrew said. But that one word expressed an +entreaty, a threat, and above all conviction that she would herself +regret her words. But she went on hurriedly: + +"You treat me like an invalid or a child. I see it all! Did you +behave like that six months ago?" + +"Lise, I beg you to desist," said Prince Andrew still more +emphatically. + +Pierre, who had been growing more and more agitated as he listened +to all this, rose and approached the princess. He seemed unable to +bear the sight of tears and was ready to cry himself. + +"Calm yourself, Princess! It seems so to you because... I assure you +I myself have experienced... and so... because... No, excuse me! An +outsider is out of place here... No, don't distress yourself... +Good-by!" + +Prince Andrew caught him by the hand. + +"No, wait, Pierre! The princess is too kind to wish to deprive me of +the pleasure of spending the evening with you." + +"No, he thinks only of himself," muttered the princess without +restraining her angry tears. + +"Lise!" said Prince Andrew dryly, raising his voice to the pitch +which indicates that patience is exhausted. + +Suddenly the angry, squirrel-like expression of the princess' pretty +face changed into a winning and piteous look of fear. Her beautiful +eyes glanced askance at her husband's face, and her own assumed the +timid, deprecating expression of a dog when it rapidly but feebly wags +its drooping tail. + +"Mon Dieu, mon Dieu!" she muttered, and lifting her dress with one +hand she went up to her husband and kissed him on the forehead. + +"Good night, Lise," said he, rising and courteously kissing her hand +as he would have done to a stranger. + +CHAPTER VIII + +The friends were silent. Neither cared to begin talking. Pierre +continually glanced at Prince Andrew; Prince Andrew rubbed his +forehead with his small hand. + +"Let us go and have supper," he said with a sigh, going to the door. + +They entered the elegant, newly decorated, and luxurious dining +room. Everything from the table napkins to the silver, china, and +glass bore that imprint of newness found in the households of the +newly married. Halfway through supper Prince Andrew leaned his +elbows on the table and, with a look of nervous agitation such as +Pierre had never before seen on his face, began to talk- as one who +has long had something on his mind and suddenly determines to speak +out. + +"Never, never marry, my dear fellow! That's my advice: never marry +till you can say to yourself that you have done all you are capable +of, and until you have ceased to love the woman of your choice and +have seen her plainly as she is, or else you will make a cruel and +irrevocable mistake. Marry when you are old and good for nothing- or +all that is good and noble in you will be lost. It will all be +wasted on trifles. Yes! Yes! Yes! Don't look at me with such surprise. +If you marry expecting anything from yourself in the future, you +will feel at every step that for you all is ended, all is closed +except the drawing room, where you will be ranged side by side with +a court lackey and an idiot!... But what's the good?..." and he +waved his arm. + +Pierre took off his spectacles, which made his face seem different +and the good-natured expression still more apparent, and gazed at +his friend in amazement. + +"My wife," continued Prince Andrew, "is an excellent woman, one of +those rare women with whom a man's honor is safe; but, O God, what +would I not give now to be unmarried! You are the first and only one +to whom I mention this, because I like you." + +As he said this Prince Andrew was less than ever like that Bolkonski +who had lolled in Anna Pavlovna's easy chairs and with half-closed +eyes had uttered French phrases between his teeth. Every muscle of his +thin face was now quivering with nervous excitement; his eyes, in +which the fire of life had seemed extinguished, now flashed with +brilliant light. It was evident that the more lifeless he seemed at +ordinary times, the more impassioned he became in these moments of +almost morbid irritation. + +"You don't understand why I say this," he continued, "but it is +the whole story of life. You talk of Bonaparte and his career," said +he (though Pierre had not mentioned Bonaparte), "but Bonaparte when he +worked went step by step toward his goal. He was free, he had +nothing but his aim to consider, and he reached it. But tie yourself +up with a woman and, like a chained convict, you lose all freedom! And +all you have of hope and strength merely weighs you down and +torments you with regret. Drawing rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, and +triviality- these are the enchanted circle I cannot escape from. I +am now going to the war, the greatest war there ever was, and I know +nothing and am fit for nothing. I am very amiable and have a caustic +wit," continued Prince Andrew, "and at Anna Pavlovna's they listen +to me. And that stupid set without whom my wife cannot exist, and +those women... If you only knew what those society women are, and +women in general! My father is right. Selfish, vain, stupid, trivial +in everything- that's what women are when you see them in their true +colors! When you meet them in society it seems as if there were +something in them, but there's nothing, nothing, nothing! No, don't +marry, my dear fellow; don't marry!" concluded Prince Andrew. + +"It seems funny to me," said Pierre, "that you, you should +consider yourself incapable and your life a spoiled life. You have +everything before you, everything. And you..." + +He did not finish his sentence, but his tone showed how highly he +thought of his friend and how much he expected of him in the future. + +"How can he talk like that?" thought Pierre. He considered his +friend a model of perfection because Prince Andrew possessed in the +highest degree just the very qualities Pierre lacked, and which +might be best described as strength of will. Pierre was always +astonished at Prince Andrew's calm manner of treating everybody, his +extraordinary memory, his extensive reading (he had read everything, +knew everything, and had an opinion about everything), but above all +at his capacity for work and study. And if Pierre was often struck +by Andrew's lack of capacity for philosophical meditation (to which he +himself was particularly addicted), he regarded even this not as a +defect but as a sign of strength. + +Even in the best, most friendly and simplest relations of life, +praise and commendation are essential, just as grease is necessary +to wheels that they may run smoothly. + +"My part is played out," said Prince Andrew. "What's the use of +talking about me? Let us talk about you," he added after a silence, +smiling at his reassuring thoughts. + +That smile was immediately reflected on Pierre's face. + +"But what is there to say about me?" said Pierre, his face +relaxing into a careless, merry smile. "What am I? An illegitimate +son!" He suddenly blushed crimson, and it was plain that he had made a +great effort to say this. "Without a name and without means... And +it really..." But he did not say what "it really" was. "For the +present I am free and am all right. Only I haven't the least idea what +I am to do; I wanted to consult you seriously." + +Prince Andrew looked kindly at him, yet his glance- friendly and +affectionate as it was- expressed a sense of his own superiority. + +"I am fond of you, especially as you are the one live man among +our whole set. Yes, you're all right! Choose what you will; it's all +the same. You'll be all right anywhere. But look here: give up +visiting those Kuragins and leading that sort of life. It suits you so +badly- all this debauchery, dissipation, and the rest of it!" + +"What would you have, my dear fellow?" answered Pierre, shrugging +his shoulders. "Women, my dear fellow; women!" + +"I don't understand it," replied Prince Andrew. "Women who are comme +il faut, that's a different matter; but the Kuragins' set of women, +'women and wine' I don't understand!" + +Pierre was staying at Prince Vasili Kuragin's and sharing the +dissipated life of his son Anatole, the son whom they were planning to +reform by marrying him to Prince Andrew's sister. + +"Do you know?" said Pierre, as if suddenly struck by a happy +thought, "seriously, I have long been thinking of it.... Leading +such a life I can't decide or think properly about anything. One's +head aches, and one spends all one's money. He asked me for tonight, +but I won't go." + +"You give me your word of honor not to go?" + +"On my honor!" + +CHAPTER IX + +It was past one o'clock when Pierre left his friend. It was a +cloudless, northern, summer night. Pierre took an open cab intending +to drive straight home. But the nearer he drew to the house the more +he felt the impossibility of going to sleep on such a night. It was +light enough to see a long way in the deserted street and it seemed +more like morning or evening than night. On the way Pierre +remembered that Anatole Kuragin was expecting the usual set for +cards that evening, after which there was generally a drinking bout, +finishing with visits of a kind Pierre was very fond of. + +"I should like to go to Kuragin's," thought he. + +But he immediately recalled his promise to Prince Andrew not to go +there. Then, as happens to people of weak character, he desired so +passionately once more to enjoy that dissipation he was so +accustomed to that he decided to go. The thought immediately +occurred to him that his promise to Prince Andrew was of no account, +because before he gave it he had already promised Prince Anatole to +come to his gathering; "besides," thought he, "all such 'words of +honor' are conventional things with no definite meaning, especially if +one considers that by tomorrow one may be dead, or something so +extraordinary may happen to one that honor and dishonor will be all +the same!" Pierre often indulged in reflections of this sort, +nullifying all his decisions and intentions. He went to Kuragin's. + +Reaching the large house near the Horse Guards' barracks, in which +Anatole lived, Pierre entered the lighted porch, ascended the +stairs, and went in at the open door. There was no one in the +anteroom; empty bottles, cloaks, and overshoes were lying about; there +was a smell of alcohol, and sounds of voices and shouting in the +distance. + +Cards and supper were over, but the visitors had not yet +dispersed. Pierre threw off his cloak and entered the first room, in +which were the remains of supper. A footman, thinking no one saw +him, was drinking on the sly what was left in the glasses. From the +third room came sounds of laughter, the shouting of familiar voices, +the growling of a bear, and general commotion. Some eight or nine +young men were crowding anxiously round an open window. Three others +were romping with a young bear, one pulling him by the chain and +trying to set him at the others. + +"I bet a hundred on Stevens!" shouted one. + +"Mind, no holding on!" cried another. + +"I bet on Dolokhov!" cried a third. "Kuragin, you part our hands." + +"There, leave Bruin alone; here's a bet on." + +"At one draught, or he loses!" shouted a fourth. + +"Jacob, bring a bottle!" shouted the host, a tall, handsome fellow +who stood in the midst of the group, without a coat, and with his fine +linen shirt unfastened in front. "Wait a bit, you fellows.... Here +is Petya! Good man!" cried he, addressing Pierre. + +Another voice, from a man of medium height with clear blue eyes, +particularly striking among all these drunken voices by its sober +ring, cried from the window: "Come here; part the bets!" This was +Dolokhov, an officer of the Semenov regiment, a notorious gambler +and duelist, who was living with Anatole. Pierre smiled, looking about +him merrily. + +"I don't understand. What's it all about?" + +"Wait a bit, he is not drunk yet! A bottle here," said Anatole, +taking a glass from the table he went up to Pierre. + +"First of all you must drink!" + +Pierre drank one glass after another, looking from under his brows +at the tipsy guests who were again crowding round the window, and +listening to their chatter. Anatole kept on refilling Pierre's glass +while explaining that Dolokhov was betting with Stevens, an English +naval officer, that he would drink a bottle of rum sitting on the +outer ledge of the third floor window with his legs hanging out. + +"Go on, you must drink it all," said Anatole, giving Pierre the last +glass, "or I won't let you go!" + +"No, I won't," said Pierre, pushing Anatole aside, and he went up to +the window. + +Dolokhov was holding the Englishman's hand and clearly and +distinctly repeating the terms of the bet, addressing himself +particularly to Anatole and Pierre. + +Dolokhov was of medium height, with curly hair and light-blue +eyes. He was about twenty-five. Like all infantry officers he wore +no mustache, so that his mouth, the most striking feature of his face, +was clearly seen. The lines of that mouth were remarkably finely +curved. The middle of the upper lip formed a sharp wedge and closed +firmly on the firm lower one, and something like two distinct smiles +played continually round the two corners of the mouth; this, +together with the resolute, insolent intelligence of his eyes, +produced an effect which made it impossible not to notice his face. +Dolokhov was a man of small means and no connections. Yet, though +Anatole spent tens of thousands of rubles, Dolokhov lived with him and +had placed himself on such a footing that all who knew them, including +Anatole himself, respected him more than they did Anatole. Dolokhov +could play all games and nearly always won. However much he drank, +he never lost his clearheadedness. Both Kuragin and Dolokhov were at +that time notorious among the rakes and scapegraces of Petersburg. + +The bottle of rum was brought. The window frame which prevented +anyone from sitting on the outer sill was being forced out by two +footmen, who were evidently flurried and intimidated by the directions +and shouts of the gentlemen around. + +Anatole with his swaggering air strode up to the window. He wanted +to smash something. Pushing away the footmen he tugged at the frame, +but could not move it. He smashed a pane. + +"You have a try, Hercules," said he, turning to Pierre. + +Pierre seized the crossbeam, tugged, and wrenched the oak frame +out with a crash. + +"Take it right out, or they'll think I'm holding on," said Dolokhov. + +"Is the Englishman bragging?... Eh? Is it all right?" said Anatole. + +"First-rate," said Pierre, looking at Dolokhov, who with a bottle of +rum in his hand was approaching the window, from which the light of +the sky, the dawn merging with the afterglow of sunset, was visible. + +Dolokhov, the bottle of rum still in his hand, jumped onto the +window sill. "Listen!" cried he, standing there and addressing those +in the room. All were silent. + +"I bet fifty imperials"- he spoke French that the Englishman might +understand him, but he did, not speak it very well- "I bet fifty +imperials... or do you wish to make it a hundred?" added he, +addressing the Englishman. + +"No, fifty," replied the latter. + +"All right. Fifty imperials... that I will drink a whole bottle of +rum without taking it from my mouth, sitting outside the window on +this spot" (he stooped and pointed to the sloping ledge outside the +window) "and without holding on to anything. Is that right?" + +"Quite right," said the Englishman. + +Anatole turned to the Englishman and taking him by one of the +buttons of his coat and looking down at him- the Englishman was short- +began repeating the terms of the wager to him in English. + +"Wait!" cried Dolokhov, hammering with the bottle on the window sill +to attract attention. "Wait a bit, Kuragin. Listen! If anyone else +does the same, I will pay him a hundred imperials. Do you understand?" + +The Englishman nodded, but gave no indication whether he intended to +accept this challenge or not. Anatole did not release him, and +though he kept nodding to show that he understood, Anatole went on +translating Dolokhov's words into English. A thin young lad, an hussar +of the Life Guards, who had been losing that evening, climbed on the +window sill, leaned over, and looked down. + +"Oh! Oh! Oh!" he muttered, looking down from the window at the +stones of the pavement. + +"Shut up!" cried Dolokhov, pushing him away from the window. The lad +jumped awkwardly back into the room, tripping over his spurs. + +Placing the bottle on the window sill where he could reach it +easily, Dolokhov climbed carefully and slowly through the window and +lowered his legs. Pressing against both sides of the window, he +adjusted himself on his seat, lowered his hands, moved a little to the +right and then to the left, and took up the bottle. Anatole brought +two candles and placed them on the window sill, though it was +already quite light. Dolokhov's back in his white shirt, and his curly +head, were lit up from both sides. Everyone crowded to the window, the +Englishman in front. Pierre stood smiling but silent. One man, older +than the others present, suddenly pushed forward with a scared and +angry look and wanted to seize hold of Dolokhov's shirt. + +"I say, this is folly! He'll be killed," said this more sensible +man. + +Anatole stopped him. + +"Don't touch him! You'll startle him and then he'll be killed. +Eh?... What then?... Eh?" + +Dolokhov turned round and, again holding on with both hands, +arranged himself on his seat. + +"If anyone comes meddling again," said he, emitting the words +separately through his thin compressed lips, "I will throw him down +there. Now then!" + +Saying this he again turned round, dropped his hands, took the +bottle and lifted it to his lips, threw back his head, and raised +his free hand to balance himself. One of the footmen who had stooped +to pick up some broken glass remained in that position without +taking his eyes from the window and from Dolokhov's back. Anatole +stood erect with staring eyes. The Englishman looked on sideways, +pursing up his lips. The man who had wished to stop the affair ran +to a corner of the room and threw himself on a sofa with his face to +the wall. Pierre hid his face, from which a faint smile forgot to fade +though his features now expressed horror and fear. All were still. +Pierre took his hands from his eyes. Dolokhov still sat in the same +position, only his head was thrown further back till his curly hair +touched his shirt collar, and the hand holding the bottle was lifted +higher and higher and trembled with the effort. The bottle was +emptying perceptibly and rising still higher and his head tilting +yet further back. "Why is it so long?" thought Pierre. It seemed to +him that more than half an hour had elapsed. Suddenly Dolokhov made +a backward movement with his spine, and his arm trembled nervously; +this was sufficient to cause his whole body to slip as he sat on the +sloping ledge. As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered +still more with the strain. One hand moved as if to clutch the +window sill, but refrained from touching it. Pierre again covered +his eyes and thought he would never never them again. Suddenly he +was aware of a stir all around. He looked up: Dolokhov was standing on +the window sill, with a pale but radiant face. + +"It's empty." + +He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who caught it neatly. +Dolokhov jumped down. He smelt strongly of rum. + +"Well done!... Fine fellow!... There's a bet for you!... Devil +take you!" came from different sides. + +The Englishman took out his purse and began counting out the +money. Dolokhov stood frowning and did not speak. Pierre jumped upon +the window sill. + +"Gentlemen, who wishes to bet with me? I'll do the same thing!" he +suddenly cried. "Even without a bet, there! Tell them to bring me a +bottle. I'll do it.... Bring a bottle!" + +"Let him do it, let him do it," said Dolokhov, smiling. + +"What next? Have you gone mad?... No one would let you!... Why, +you go giddy even on a staircase," exclaimed several voices. + +"I'll drink it! Let's have a bottle of rum!" shouted Pierre, banging +the table with a determined and drunken gesture and preparing to climb +out of the window. + +They seized him by his arms; but he was so strong that everyone +who touched him was sent flying. + +"No, you'll never manage him that way," said Anatole. "Wait a bit +and I'll get round him.... Listen! I'll take your bet tomorrow, but +now we are all going to -'s." + +"Come on then," cried Pierre. "Come on!... And we'll take Bruin with +us." + +And he caught the bear, took it in his arms, lifted it from the +ground, and began dancing round the room with it. + +CHAPTER X + +Prince Vasili kept the promise he had given to Princess +Drubetskaya who had spoken to him on behalf of her only son Boris on +the evening of Anna Pavlovna's soiree. The matter was mentioned to the +Emperor, an exception made, and Boris transferred into the regiment of +Semenov Guards with the rank of cornet. He received, however, no +appointment to Kutuzov's staff despite all Anna Mikhaylovna's +endeavors and entreaties. Soon after Anna Pavlovna's reception Anna +Mikhaylovna returned to Moscow and went straight to her rich +relations, the Rostovs, with whom she stayed when in the town and +where and where her darling Bory, who had only just entered a regiment +of the line and was being at once transferred to the Guards as a +cornet, had been educated from childhood and lived for years at a +time. The Guards had already left Petersburg on the tenth of August, +and her son, who had remained in Moscow for his equipment, was to join +them on the march to Radzivilov. + +It was St. Natalia's day and the name day of two of the Rostovs- the +mother and the youngest daughter- both named Nataly. Ever since the +morning, carriages with six horses had been coming and going +continually, bringing visitors to the Countess Rostova's big house +on the Povarskaya, so well known to all Moscow. The countess herself +and her handsome eldest daughter were in the drawing-room with the +visitors who came to congratulate, and who constantly succeeded one +another in relays. + +The countess was a woman of about forty-five, with a thin Oriental +type of face, evidently worn out with childbearing- she had had +twelve. A languor of motion and speech, resulting from weakness, +gave her a distinguished air which inspired respect. Princess Anna +Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya, who as a member of the household was also +seated in the drawing room, helped to receive and entertain the +visitors. The young people were in one of the inner rooms, not +considering it necessary to take part in receiving the visitors. The +count met the guests and saw them off, inviting them all to dinner. + +"I am very, very grateful to you, mon cher," or "ma chere"- he +called everyone without exception and without the slightest +variation in his tone, "my dear," whether they were above or below him +in rank- "I thank you for myself and for our two dear ones whose +name day we are keeping. But mind you come to dinner or I shall be +offended, ma chere! On behalf of the whole family I beg you to come, +mon cher!" These words he repeated to everyone without exception or +variation, and with the same expression on his full, cheerful, +clean-shaven face, the same firm pressure of the hand and the same +quick, repeated bows. As soon as he had seen a visitor off he returned +to one of those who were still in the drawing room, drew a chair +toward him or her, and jauntily spreading out his legs and putting his +hands on his knees with the air of a man who enjoys life and knows how +to live, he swayed to and fro with dignity, offered surmises about the +weather, or touched on questions of health, sometimes in Russian and +sometimes in very bad but self-confident French; then again, like a +man weary but unflinching in the fulfillment of duty, he rose to see +some visitors off and, stroking his scanty gray hairs over his bald +patch, also asked them to dinner. Sometimes on his way back from the +anteroom he would pass through the conservatory and pantry into the +large marble dining hall, where tables were being set out for eighty +people; and looking at the footmen, who were bringing in silver and +china, moving tables, and unfolding damask table linen, he would +call Dmitri Vasilevich, a man of good family and the manager of all +his affairs, and while looking with pleasure at the enormous table +would say: "Well, Dmitri, you'll see that things are all as they +should be? That's right! The great thing is the serving, that's it." +And with a complacent sigh he would return to the drawing room. + +"Marya Lvovna Karagina and her daughter!" announced the countess' +gigantic footman in his bass voice, entering the drawing room. The +countess reflected a moment and took a pinch from a gold snuffbox with +her husband's portrait on it. + +"I'm quite worn out by these callers. However, I'll see her and no +more. She is so affected. Ask her in," she said to the footman in a +sad voice, as if saying: "Very well, finish me off." + +A tall, stout, and proud-looking woman, with a round-faced smiling +daughter, entered the drawing room, their dresses rustling. + +"Dear Countess, what an age... She has been laid up, poor child... +at the Razumovski's ball... and Countess Apraksina... I was so +delighted..." came the sounds of animated feminine voices, +interrupting one another and mingling with the rustling of dresses and +the scraping of chairs. Then one of those conversations began which +last out until, at the first pause, the guests rise with a rustle of +dresses and say, "I am so delighted... Mamma's health... and +Countess Apraksina... and then, again rustling, pass into the +anteroom, put on cloaks or mantles, and drive away. The conversation +was on the chief topic of the day: the illness of the wealthy and +celebrated beau of Catherine's day, Count Bezukhov, and about his +illegitimate son Pierre, the one who had behaved so improperly at Anna +Pavlovna's reception. + +"I am so sorry for the poor count," said the visitor. "He is in such +bad health, and now this vexation about his son is enough to kill +him!" + +"What is that?" asked the countess as if she did not know what the +visitor alluded to, though she had already heard about the cause of +Count Bezukhov's distress some fifteen times. + +"That's what comes of a modern education," exclaimed the visitor. +"It seems that while he was abroad this young man was allowed to do as +he liked, now in Petersburg I hear he has been doing such terrible +things that he has been expelled by the police." + +"You don't say so!" replied the countess. + +"He chose his friends badly," interposed Anna Mikhaylovna. "Prince +Vasili's son, he, and a certain Dolokhov have, it is said, been up +to heaven only knows what! And they have had to suffer for it. +Dolokhov has been degraded to the ranks and Bezukhov's son sent back +to Moscow. Anatole Kuragin's father managed somehow to get his son's +affair hushed up, but even he was ordered out of Petersburg." + +"But what have they been up to?" asked the countess. + +"They are regular brigands, especially Dolokhov," replied the +visitor. "He is a son of Marya Ivanovna Dolokhova, such a worthy +woman, but there, just fancy! Those three got hold of a bear +somewhere, put it in a carriage, and set off with it to visit some +actresses! The police tried to interfere, and what did the young men +do? They tied a policeman and the bear back to back and put the bear +into the Moyka Canal. And there was the bear swimming about with the +policeman on his back!" + +"What a nice figure the policeman must have cut, my dear!" shouted +the count, dying with laughter. + +"Oh, how dreadful! How can you laugh at it, Count?" + +Yet the ladies themselves could not help laughing. + +"It was all they could do to rescue the poor man," continued the +visitor. "And to think it is Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov's son who +amuses himself in this sensible manner! And he was said to be so +well educated and clever. This is all that his foreign education has +done for him! I hope that here in Moscow no one will receive him, in +spite of his money. They wanted to introduce him to me, but I quite +declined: I have my daughters to consider." + +"Why do you say this young man is so rich?" asked the countess, +turning away from the girls, who at once assumed an air of +inattention. "His children are all illegitimate. I think Pierre also +is illegitimate." + +The visitor made a gesture with her hand. + +"I should think he has a score of them." + +Princess Anna Mikhaylovna intervened in the conversation, +evidently wishing to show her connections and knowledge of what went +on in society. + +"The fact of the matter is," said she significantly, and also in a +half whisper, "everyone knows Count Cyril's reputation.... He has lost +count of his children, but this Pierre was his favorite." + +"How handsome the old man still was only a year ago!" remarked the +countess. "I have never seen a handsomer man." + +"He is very much altered now," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "Well, as I +was saying, Prince Vasili is the next heir through his wife, but the +count is very fond of Pierre, looked after his education, and wrote to +the Emperor about him; so that in the case of his death- and he is +so ill that he may die at any moment, and Dr. Lorrain has come from +Petersburg- no one knows who will inherit his immense fortune, +Pierre or Prince Vasili. Forty thousand serfs and millions of +rubles! I know it all very well for Prince Vasili told me himself. +Besides, Cyril Vladimirovich is my mother's second cousin. He's also +my Bory's godfather," she added, as if she attached no importance at +all to the fact. + +"Prince Vasili arrived in Moscow yesterday. I hear he has come on +some inspection business," remarked the visitor. + +"Yes, but between ourselves," said the princess, that is a +pretext. The fact is he has come to see Count Cyril Vladimirovich, +hearing how ill he is." + +"But do you know, my dear, that was a capital joke," said the count; +and seeing that the elder visitor was not listening, he turned to +the young ladies. "I can just imagine what a funny figure that +policeman cut!" + +And as he waved his arms to impersonate the policeman, his portly +form again shook with a deep ringing laugh, the laugh of one who +always eats well and, in particular, drinks well. "So do come and dine +with us!" he said. + +CHAPTER XI + +Silence ensued. The countess looked at her callers, smiling affably, +but not concealing the fact that she would not be distressed if they +now rose and took their leave. The visitor's daughter was already +smoothing down her dress with an inquiring look at her mother, when +suddenly from the next room were heard the footsteps of boys and girls +running to the door and the noise of a chair falling over, and a +girl of thirteen, hiding something in the folds of her short muslin +frock, darted in and stopped short in the middle of the room. It was +evident that she had not intended her flight to bring her so far. +Behind her in the doorway appeared a student with a crimson coat +collar, an officer of the Guards, a girl of fifteen, and a plump +rosy-faced boy in a short jacket. + +The count jumped up and, swaying from side to side, spread his +arms wide and threw them round the little girl who had run in. + +"Ah, here she is!" he exclaimed laughing. "My pet, whose name day it +is. My dear pet!" + +"Ma chere, there is a time for everything," said the countess with +feigned severity. "You spoil her, Ilya," she added, turning to her +husband. + +"How do you do, my dear? I wish you many happy returns of your +name day," said the visitor. "What a charming child," she added, +addressing the mother. + +This black-eyed, wide-mouthed girl, not pretty but full of life- +with childish bare shoulders which after her run heaved and shook +her bodice, with black curls tossed backward, thin bare arms, little +legs in lace-frilled drawers, and feet in low slippers- was just at +that charming age when a girl is no longer a child, though the child +is not yet a young woman. Escaping from her father she ran to hide her +flushed face in the lace of her mother's mantilla- not paying the +least attention to her severe remark- and began to laugh. She laughed, +and in fragmentary sentences tried to explain about a doll which she +produced from the folds of her frock. + +"Do you see?... My doll... Mimi... You see..." was all Natasha +managed to utter (to her everything seemed funny). She leaned +against her mother and burst into such a loud, ringing fit of laughter +that even the prim visitor could not help joining in. + +"Now then, go away and take your monstrosity with you," said the +mother, pushing away her daughter with pretended sternness, and +turning to the visitor she added: "She is my youngest girl." + +Natasha, raising her face for a moment from her mother's mantilla, +glanced up at her through tears of laughter, and again hid her face. + +The visitor, compelled to look on at this family scene, thought it +necessary to take some part in it. + +"Tell me, my dear," said she to Natasha, "is Mimi a relation of +yours? A daughter, I suppose?" + +Natasha did not like the visitor's tone of condescension to childish +things. She did not reply, but looked at her seriously. + +Meanwhile the younger generation: Boris, the officer, Anna +Mikhaylovna's son; Nicholas, the undergraduate, the count's eldest +son; Sonya, the count's fifteen-year-old niece, and little Petya, +his youngest boy, had all settled down in the drawing room and were +obviously trying to restrain within the bounds of decorum the +excitement and mirth that shone in all their faces. Evidently in the +back rooms, from which they had dashed out so impetuously, the +conversation had been more amusing than the drawing-room talk of +society scandals, the weather, and Countess Apraksina. Now and then +they glanced at one another, hardly able to suppress their laughter. + +The two young men, the student and the officer, friends from +childhood, were of the same age and both handsome fellows, though +not alike. Boris was tall and fair, and his calm and handsome face had +regular, delicate features. Nicholas was short with curly hair and +an open expression. Dark hairs were already showing on his upper +lip, and his whole face expressed impetuosity and enthusiasm. Nicholas +blushed when he entered the drawing room. He evidently tried to find +something to say, but failed. Boris on the contrary at once found +his footing, and related quietly and humorously how he had know that +doll Mimi when she was still quite a young lady, before her nose was +broken; how she had aged during the five years he had known her, and +how her head had cracked right across the skull. Having said this he +glanced at Natasha. She turned away from him and glanced at her +younger brother, who was screwing up his eyes and shaking with +suppressed laughter, and unable to control herself any longer, she +jumped up and rushed from the room as fast as her nimble little feet +would carry her. Boris did not laugh. + +"You were meaning to go out, weren't you, Mamma? Do you want the +carriage?" he asked his mother with a smile. + +"Yes, yes, go and tell them to get it ready," she answered, +returning his smile. + +Boris quietly left the room and went in search of Natasha. The plump +boy ran after them angrily, as if vexed that their program had been +disturbed. + +CHAPTER XII + +The only young people remaining in the drawing room, not counting +the young lady visitor and the countess' eldest daughter (who was four +years older than her sister and behaved already like a grown-up +person), were Nicholas and Sonya, the niece. Sonya was a slender +little brunette with a tender look in her eyes which were veiled by +long lashes, thick black plaits coiling twice round her head, and a +tawny tint in her complexion and especially in the color of her +slender but graceful and muscular arms and neck. By the grace of her +movements, by the softness and flexibility of her small limbs, and +by a certain coyness and reserve of manner, she reminded one of a +pretty, half-grown kitten which promises to become a beautiful +little cat. She evidently considered it proper to show an interest +in the general conversation by smiling, but in spite of herself her +eyes under their thick long lashes watched her cousin who was going to +join the army, with such passionate girlish adoration that her smile +could not for a single instant impose upon anyone, and it was clear +that the kitten had settled down only to spring up with more energy +and again play with her cousin as soon as they too could, like Natasha +and Boris, escape from the drawing room. + +"Ah yes, my dear," said the count, addressing the visitor and +pointing to Nicholas, "his friend Boris has become an officer, and +so for friendship's sake he is leaving the university and me, his +old father, and entering the military service, my dear. And there +was a place and everything waiting for him in the Archives Department! +Isn't that friendship?" remarked the count in an inquiring tone. + +"But they say that war has been declared," replied the visitor. + +"They've been saying so a long while," said the count, "and +they'll say so again and again, and that will be the end of it. My +dear, there's friendship for you," he repeated. "He's joining the +hussars." + +The visitor, not knowing what to say, shook her head. + +"It's not at all from friendship," declared Nicholas, flaring up and +turning away as if from a shameful aspersion. "It is not from +friendship at all; I simply feel that the army is my vocation." + +He glanced at his cousin and the young lady visitor; and they were +both regarding him with a smile of approbation. + +"Schubert, the colonel of the Pavlograd Hussars, is dining with us +today. He has been here on leave and is taking Nicholas back with him. +It can't be helped!" said the count, shrugging his shoulders and +speaking playfully of a matter that evidently distressed him. + +"I have already told you, Papa," said his son, "that if you don't +wish to let me go, I'll stay. But I know I am no use anywhere except +in the army; I am not a diplomat or a government clerk.- I don't +know how to hide what I feel." As he spoke he kept glancing with the +flirtatiousness of a handsome youth at Sonya and the young lady +visitor. + +The little kitten, feasting her eyes on him, seemed ready at any +moment to start her gambols again and display her kittenish nature. + +"All right, all right!" said the old count. "He always flares up! +This Buonaparte has turned all their heads; they all think of how he +rose from an ensign and became Emperor. Well, well, God grant it," +he added, not noticing his visitor's sarcastic smile. + +The elders began talking about Bonaparte. Julie Karagina turned to +young Rostov. + +"What a pity you weren't at the Arkharovs' on Thursday. It was so +dull without you," said she, giving him a tender smile. + +The young man, flattered, sat down nearer to her with a coquettish +smile, and engaged the smiling Julie in a confidential conversation +without at all noticing that his involuntary smile had stabbed the +heart of Sonya, who blushed and smiled unnaturally. In the midst of +his talk he glanced round at her. She gave him a passionately angry +glance, and hardly able to restrain her tears and maintain the +artificial smile on her lips, she got up and left the room. All +Nicholas' animation vanished. He waited for the first pause in the +conversation, and then with a distressed face left the room to find +Sonya. + +"How plainly all these young people wear their hearts on their +sleeves!" said Anna Mikhaylovna, pointing to Nicholas as he went +out. "Cousinage- dangereux voisinage;"~^ she added. + +^~ Cousinhood is a dangerous neighborhood. + +"Yes," said the countess when the brightness these young people +had brought into the room had vanished; and as if answering a question +no one had put but which was always in her mind, "and how much +suffering, how much anxiety one has had to go through that we might +rejoice in them now! And yet really the anxiety is greater now than +the joy. One is always, always anxious! Especially just at this age, +so dangerous both for girls and boys." + +"It all depends on the bringing up," remarked the visitor. + +"Yes, you're quite right," continued the countess. "Till now I +have always, thank God, been my children's friend and had their full +confidence," said she, repeating the mistake of so many parents who +imagine that their children have no secrets from them. "I know I shall +always be my daughters' first confidante, and that if Nicholas, with +his impulsive nature, does get into mischief (a boy can't help it), he +will all the same never be like those Petersburg young men." + +"Yes, they are splendid, splendid youngsters," chimed in the +count, who always solved questions that seemed to him perplexing by +deciding that everything was splendid. "Just fancy: wants to be an +hussar. What's one to do, my dear?" + +"What a charming creature your younger girl is," said the visitor; +"a little volcano!" + +"Yes, a regular volcano," said the count. "Takes after me! And +what a voice she has; though she's my daughter, I tell the truth +when I say she'll be a singer, a second Salomoni! We have engaged an +Italian to give her lessons." + +"Isn't she too young? I have heard that it harms the voice to +train it at that age." + +"Oh no, not at all too young!" replied the count. "Why, our +mothers used to be married at twelve or thirteen." + +"And she's in love with Boris already. Just fancy!" said the +countess with a gentle smile, looking at Boris' and went on, evidently +concerned with a thought that always occupied her: "Now you see if I +were to be severe with her and to forbid it... goodness knows what +they might be up to on the sly" (she meant that they would be +kissing), "but as it is, I know every word she utters. She will come +running to me of her own accord in the evening and tell me everything. +Perhaps I spoil her, but really that seems the best plan. With her +elder sister I was stricter." + +"Yes, I was brought up quite differently," remarked the handsome +elder daughter, Countess Vera, with a smile. + +But the smile did not enhance Vera's beauty as smiles generally +do; on the contrary it gave her an unnatural, and therefore +unpleasant, expression. Vera was good-looking, not at all stupid, +quick at learning, was well brought up, and had a pleasant voice; what +she said was true and appropriate, yet, strange to say, everyone- +the visitors and countess alike- turned to look at her as if wondering +why she had said it, and they all felt awkward. + +"People are always too clever with their eldest children and try +to make something exceptional of them," said the visitor. + +"What's the good of denying it, my dear? Our dear countess was too +clever with Vera," said the count. "Well, what of that? She's turned +out splendidly all the same," he added, winking at Vera. + +The guests got up and took their leave, promising to return to +dinner. + +"What manners! I thought they would never go," said the countess, +when she had seen her guests out. + +CHAPTER XIII + +When Natasha ran out of the drawing room she only went as far as the +conservatory. There she paused and stood listening to the conversation +in the drawing room, waiting for Boris to come out. She was already +growing impatient, and stamped her foot, ready to cry at his not +coming at once, when she heard the young man's discreet steps +approaching neither quickly nor slowly. At this Natasha dashed swiftly +among the flower tubs and hid there. + +Boris paused in the middle of the room, looked round, brushed a +little dust from the sleeve of his uniform, and going up to a mirror +examined his handsome face. Natasha, very still, peered out from her +ambush, waiting to see what he would do. He stood a little while +before the glass, smiled, and walked toward the other door. Natasha +was about to call him but changed her mind. "Let him look for me," +thought she. Hardly had Boris gone than Sonya, flushed, in tears, +and muttering angrily, came in at the other door. Natasha checked +her first impulse to run out to her, and remained in her hiding place, +watching- as under an invisible cap- to see what went on in the world. +She was experiencing a new and peculiar pleasure. Sonya, muttering +to herself, kept looking round toward the drawing-room door. It opened +and Nicholas came in. + +"Sonya, what is the matter with you? How can you?" said he, +running up to her. + +"It's nothing, nothing; leave me alone!" sobbed Sonya. + +"Ah, I know what it is." + +"Well, if you do, so much the better, and you can go back to her!" + +"So-o-onya! Look here! How can you torture me and yourself like +that, for a mere fancy?" said Nicholas taking her hand. + +Sonya did not pull it away, and left off crying. Natasha, not +stirring and scarcely breathing, watched from her ambush with +sparkling eyes. "What will happen now?" thought she. + +"Sonya! What is anyone in the world to me? You alone are +everything!" said Nicholas. "And I will prove it to you." + +"I don't like you to talk like that." + +"Well, then, I won't; only forgive me, Sonya!" He drew her to him +and kissed her. + +"Oh, how nice," thought Natasha; and when Sonya and Nicholas had +gone out of the conservatory she followed and called Boris to her. + +"Boris, come here," said she with a sly and significant look. "I +have something to tell you. Here, here!" and she led him into the +conservatory to the place among the tubs where she had been hiding. + +Boris followed her, smiling. + +"What is the something?" asked he. + +She grew confused, glanced round, and, seeing the doll she had +thrown down on one of the tubs, picked it up. + +"Kiss the doll," said she. + +Boris looked attentively and kindly at her eager face, but did not +reply. + +"Don't you want to? Well, then, come here," said she, and went +further in among the plants and threw down the doll. "Closer, closer!" +she whispered. + +She caught the young officer by his cuffs, and a look of solemnity +and fear appeared on her flushed face. + +"And me? Would you like to kiss me?" she whispered almost inaudibly, +glancing up at him from under her brows, smiling, and almost crying +from excitement. + +Boris blushed. + +"How funny you are!" he said, bending down to her and blushing still +more, but he waited and did nothing. + +Suddenly she jumped up onto a tub to be higher than he, embraced him +so that both her slender bare arms clasped him above his neck, and, +tossing back her hair, kissed him full on the lips. + +Then she slipped down among the flowerpots on the other side of +the tubs and stood, hanging her head. + +"Natasha," he said, "you know that I love you, but..." + +"You are in love with me?" Natasha broke in. + +"Yes, I am, but please don't let us do like that.... In another four +years... then I will ask for your hand." + +Natasha considered. + +"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen," she counted on her slender +little fingers. "All right! Then it's settled?" + +A smile of joy and satisfaction lit up her eager face. + +"Settled!" replied Boris. + +"Forever?" said the little girl. "Till death itself?" + +She took his arm and with a happy face went with him into the +adjoining sitting room. + +CHAPTER XIV + +After receiving her visitors, the countess was so tired that she +gave orders to admit no more, but the porter was told to be sure to +invite to dinner all who came "to congratulate." The countess wished +to have a tete-a-tete talk with the friend of her childhood, +Princess Anna Mikhaylovna, whom she had not seen properly since she +returned from Petersburg. Anna Mikhaylovna, with her tear-worn but +pleasant face, drew her chair nearer to that of the countess. + +"With you I will be quite frank," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "There +are not many left of us old friends! That's why I so value your +friendship." + +Anna Mikhaylovna looked at Vera and paused. The countess pressed her +friend's hand. + +"Vera," she said to her eldest daughter who was evidently not a +favorite, "how is it you have so little tact? Don't you see you are +not wanted here? Go to the other girls, or..." + +The handsome Vera smiled contemptuously but did not seem at all +hurt. + +"If you had told me sooner, Mamma, I would have gone," she replied +as she rose to go to her own room. + +But as she passed the sitting room she noticed two couples +sitting, one pair at each window. She stopped and smiled scornfully. +Sonya was sitting close to Nicholas who was copying out some verses +for her, the first he had ever written. Boris and Natasha were at +the other window and ceased talking when Vera entered. Sonya and +Natasha looked at Vera with guilty, happy faces. + +It was pleasant and touching to see these little girls in love; +but apparently the sight of them roused no pleasant feeling in Vera. + +"How often have I asked you not to take my things?" she said. "You +have a room of your own," and she took the inkstand from Nicholas. + +"In a minute, in a minute," he said, dipping his pen. + +"You always manage to do things at the wrong time," continued +Vera. "You came rushing into the drawing room so that everyone felt +ashamed of you." + +Though what she said was quite just, perhaps for that very reason no +one replied, and the four simply looked at one another. She lingered +in the room with the inkstand in her hand. + +"And at your age what secrets can there be between Natasha and +Boris, or between you two? It's all nonsense!" + +"Now, Vera, what does it matter to you?" said Natasha in defense, +speaking very gently. + +She seemed that day to be more than ever kind and affectionate to +everyone. + +"Very silly," said Vera. "I am ashamed of you. Secrets indeed!" + +"All have secrets of their own," answered Natasha, getting warmer. +"We don't interfere with you and Berg." + +"I should think not," said Vera, "because there can never be +anything wrong in my behavior. But I'll just tell Mamma how you are +behaving with Boris." + +"Natalya Ilynichna behaves very well to me," remarked Boris. "I have +nothing to complain of." + +"Don't, Boris! You are such a diplomat that it is really +tiresome," said Natasha in a mortified voice that trembled slightly. +(She used the word "diplomat," which was just then much in vogue among +the children, in the special sense they attached to it.) "Why does she +bother me?" And she added, turning to Vera, "You'll never understand +it, because you've never loved anyone. You have no heart! You are a +Madame de Genlis and nothing more" (this nickname, bestowed on Vera by +Nicholas, was considered very stinging), "and your greatest pleasure +is to be unpleasant to people! Go and flirt with Berg as much as you +please," she finished quickly. + +"I shall at any rate not run after a young man before visitors..." + +"Well, now you've done what you wanted," put in Nicholas- "said +unpleasant things to everyone and upset them. Let's go to the +nursery." + +All four, like a flock of scared birds, got up and left the room. + +"The unpleasant things were said to me," remarked Vera, "I said none +to anyone." + +"Madame de Genlis! Madame de Genlis!" shouted laughing voices +through the door. + +The handsome Vera, who produced such an irritating and unpleasant +effect on everyone, smiled and, evidently unmoved by what had been +said to her, went to the looking glass and arranged her hair and +scarf. Looking at her own handsome face she seemed to become still +colder and calmer. + +In the drawing room the conversation was still going on. + +"Ah, my dear," said the countess, "my life is not all roses +either. Don't I know that at the rate we are living our means won't +last long? It's all the Club and his easygoing nature. Even in the +country do we get any rest? Theatricals, hunting, and heaven knows +what besides! But don't let's talk about me; tell me how you managed +everything. I often wonder at you, Annette- how at your age you can +rush off alone in a carriage to Moscow, to Petersburg, to those +ministers and great people, and know how to deal with them all! It's +quite astonishing. How did you get things settled? I couldn't possibly +do it." + +"Ah, my love," answered Anna Mikhaylovna, "God grant you never +know what it is to be left a widow without means and with a son you +love to distraction! One learns many things then," she added with a +certain pride. "That lawsuit taught me much. When I want to see one of +those big people I write a note: 'Princess So-and-So desires an +interview with So and-So,' and then I take a cab and go myself two, +three, or four times- till I get what I want. I don't mind what they +think of me." + +"Well, and to whom did you apply about Bory?" asked the countess. +"You see yours is already an officer in the Guards, while my +Nicholas is going as a cadet. There's no one to interest himself for +him. To whom did you apply?" + +"To Prince Vasili. He was so kind. He at once agreed to +everything, and put the matter before the Emperor," said Princess Anna +Mikhaylovna enthusiastically, quite forgetting all the humiliation she +had endured to gain her end. + +"Has Prince Vasili aged much?" asked the countess. "I have not +seen him since we acted together at the Rumyantsovs' theatricals. I +expect he has forgotten me. He paid me attentions in those days," said +the countess, with a smile. + +"He is just the same as ever," replied Anna Mikhaylovna, +"overflowing with amiability. His position has not turned his head +at all. He said to me, 'I am sorry I can do so little for you, dear +Princess. I am at your command.' Yes, he is a fine fellow and a very +kind relation. But, Nataly, you know my love for my son: I would do +anything for his happiness! And my affairs are in such a bad way +that my position is now a terrible one," continued Anna Mikhaylovna, +sadly, dropping her voice. "My wretched lawsuit takes all I have and +makes no progress. Would you believe it, I have literally not a +penny and don't know how to equip Boris." She took out her +handkerchief and began to cry. "I need five hundred rubles, and have +only one twenty-five-ruble note. I am in such a state.... My only hope +now is in Count Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov. If he will not assist +his godson- you know he is Bory's godfather- and allow him something +for his maintenance, all my trouble will have been thrown away.... I +shall not be able to equip him." + +The countess' eyes filled with tears and she pondered in silence. + +"I often think, though, perhaps it's a sin," said the princess, +"that here lives Count Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov so rich, all +alone... that tremendous fortune... and what is his life worth? It's a +burden to him, and Bory's life is only just beginning...." + +"Surely he will leave something to Boris," said the countess. + +"Heaven only knows, my dear! These rich grandees are so selfish. +Still, I will take Boris and go to see him at once, and I shall +speak to him straight out. Let people think what they will of me, it's +really all the same to me when my son's fate is at stake." The +princess rose. "It's now two o'clock and you dine at four. There +will just be time." + +And like a practical Petersburg lady who knows how to make the +most of time, Anna Mikhaylovna sent someone to call her son, and +went into the anteroom with him. + +"Good-by, my dear," said she to the countess who saw her to the +door, and added in a whisper so that her son should not hear, "Wish me +good luck." + +"Are you going to Count Cyril Vladimirovich, my dear?" said the +count coming out from the dining hall into the anteroom, and he added: +"If he is better, ask Pierre to dine with us. He has been to the +house, you know, and danced with the children. Be sure to invite +him, my dear. We will see how Taras distinguishes himself today. He +says Count Orlov never gave such a dinner as ours will be!" + +CHAPTER XV + +"My dear Boris," said Princess Anna Mikhaylovna to her son as +Countess Rostova's carriage in which they were seated drove over the +straw covered street and turned into the wide courtyard of Count Cyril +Vladimirovich Bezukhov's house. "My dear Boris," said the mother, +drawing her hand from beneath her old mantle and laying it timidly and +tenderly on her son's arm, "be affectionate and attentive to him. +Count Cyril Vladimirovich is your godfather after all, your future +depends on him. Remember that, my dear, and be nice to him, as you +so well know how to be." + +"If only I knew that anything besides humiliation would come of +it..." answered her son coldly. "But I have promised and will do it +for your sake." + +Although the hall porter saw someone's carriage standing at the +entrance, after scrutinizing the mother and son (who without asking to +be announced had passed straight through the glass porch between the +rows of statues in niches) and looking significantly at the lady's old +cloak, he asked whether they wanted the count or the princesses, +and, hearing that they wished to see the count, said his excellency +was worse today, and that his excellency was not receiving anyone. + +"We may as well go back," said the son in French. + +"My dear!" exclaimed his mother imploringly, again laying her hand +on his arm as if that touch might soothe or rouse him. + +Boris said no more, but looked inquiringly at his mother without +taking off his cloak. + +"My friend," said Anna Mikhaylovna in gentle tones, addressing the +hall porter, I know Count Cyril Vladimirovich is very ill... that's +why I have come... I am a relation. I shall not disturb him, my +friend... I only need see Prince Vasili Sergeevich: he is staying +here, is he not? Please announce me." + +The hall porter sullenly pulled a bell that rang upstairs, and +turned away. + +"Princess Drubetskaya to see Prince Vasili Sergeevich," he called to +a footman dressed in knee breeches, shoes, and a swallow-tail coat, +who ran downstairs and looked over from the halfway landing. + +The mother smoothed the folds of her dyed silk dress before a +large Venetian mirror in the wall, and in her trodden-down shoes +briskly ascended the carpeted stairs. + +"My dear," she said to her son, once more stimulating him by a +touch, "you promised me!" + +The son, lowering his eyes, followed her quietly. + +They entered the large hall, from which one of the doors led to +the apartments assigned to Prince Vasili. + +Just as the mother and son, having reached the middle of the hall, +were about to ask their way of an elderly footman who had sprung up as +they entered, the bronze handle of one of the doors turned and +Prince Vasili came out- wearing a velvet coat with a single star on +his breast, as was his custom when at home- taking leave of a +good-looking, dark-haired man. This was the celebrated Petersburg +doctor, Lorrain. + +"Then it is certain?" said the prince. + +"Prince, humanum est errare,~^ but..." replied the doctor, swallowing +his r's, and pronouncing the Latin words with a French accent. + +^~ To err is human. + +"Very well, very well..." + +Seeing Anna Mikhaylovna and her son, Prince Vasili dismissed the +doctor with a bow and approached them silently and with a look of +inquiry. The son noticed that an expression of profound sorrow +suddenly clouded his mother's face, and he smiled slightly. + +"Ah, Prince! In what sad circumstances we meet again! And how is our +dear invalid?" said she, as though unaware of the cold offensive +look fixed on her. + +Prince Vasili stared at her and at Boris questioningly and +perplexed. Boris bowed politely. Prince Vasili without acknowledging +the bow turned to Anna Mikhaylovna, answering her query by a +movement of the head and lips indicating very little hope for the +patient. + +"Is it possible?" exclaimed Anna Mikhaylovna. "Oh, how awful! It +is terrible to think.... This is my son," she added, indicating Boris. +"He wanted to thank you himself." + +Boris bowed again politely. + +"Believe me, Prince, a mother's heart will never forget what you +have done for us." + +"I am glad I was able to do you a service, my dear Anna +Mikhaylovna," said Prince Vasili, arranging his lace frill, and in +tone and manner, here in Moscow to Anna Mikhaylovna whom he had placed +under an obligation, assuming an air of much greater importance than +he had done in Petersburg at Anna Scherer's reception. + +"Try to serve well and show yourself worthy," added he, addressing +Boris with severity. "I am glad.... Are you here on leave?" he went on +in his usual tone of indifference. + +"I am awaiting orders to join my new regiment, your excellency," +replied Boris, betraying neither annoyance at the prince's brusque +manner nor a desire to enter into conversation, but speaking so +quietly and respectfully that the prince gave him a searching glance. + +"Are you living with your mother?" + +"I am living at Countess Rostova's," replied Boris, again adding, +"your excellency." + +"That is, with Ilya Rostov who married Nataly Shinshina," said +Anna Mikhaylovna. + +"I know, I know," answered Prince Vasili in his monotonous voice. "I +never could understand how Nataly made up her mind to marry that +unlicked bear! A perfectly absurd and stupid fellow, and a gambler +too, I am told." + +"But a very kind man, Prince," said Anna Mikhaylovna with a pathetic +smile, as though she too knew that Count Rostov deserved this censure, +but asked him not to be too hard on the poor old man. "What do the +doctors say?" asked the princess after a pause, her worn face again +expressing deep sorrow. + +"They give little hope," replied the prince. + +"And I should so like to thank Uncle once for all his kindness to me +and Boris. He is his godson," she added, her tone suggesting that this +fact ought to give Prince Vasili much satisfaction. + +Prince Vasili became thoughtful and frowned. Anna Mikhaylovna saw +that he was afraid of finding in her a rival for Count Bezukhov's +fortune, and hastened to reassure him. + +"If it were not for my sincere affection and devotion to Uncle," +said she, uttering the word with peculiar assurance and unconcern, +"I know his character: noble, upright... but you see he has no one +with him except the young princesses.... They are still young...." She +bent her head and continued in a whisper: "Has he performed his +final duty, Prince? How priceless are those last moments! It can +make things no worse, and it is absolutely necessary to prepare him if +he is so ill. We women, Prince," and she smiled tenderly, "always know +how to say these things. I absolutely must see him, however painful it +may be for me. I am used to suffering." + +Evidently the prince understood her, and also understood, as he +had done at Anna Pavlovna's, that it would be difficult to get rid +of Anna Mikhaylovna. + +"Would not such a meeting be too trying for him, dear Anna +Mikhaylovna?" said he. "Let us wait until evening. The doctors are +expecting a crisis." + +"But one cannot delay, Prince, at such a moment! Consider that the +welfare of his soul is at stake. Ah, it is awful: the duties of a +Christian..." + +A door of one of the inner rooms opened and one of the princesses, +the count's niece, entered with a cold, stern face. The length of +her body was strikingly out of proportion to her short legs. Prince +Vasili turned to her. + +"Well, how is he?" + +"Still the same; but what can you expect, this noise..." said the +princess, looking at Anna Mikhaylovna as at a stranger. + +"Ah, my dear, I hardly knew you," said Anna Mikhaylovna with a happy +smile, ambling lightly up to the count's niece. "I have come, and am +at your service to help you nurse my uncle. I imagine what you have +gone through," and she sympathetically turned up her eyes. + +The princess gave no reply and did not even smile, but left the room +at Anna Mikhaylovna took off her gloves and, occupying the position +she had conquered, settled down in an armchair, inviting Prince Vasili +to take a seat beside her. + +"Boris," she said to her son with a smile, "I shall go in to see the +count, my uncle; but you, my dear, had better go to Pierre meanwhile +and don't forget to give him the Rostovs' invitation. They ask him +to dinner. I suppose he won't go?" she continued, turning to the +prince. + +"On the contrary," replied the prince, who had plainly become +depressed, "I shall be only too glad if you relieve me of that young +man.... Here he is, and the count has not once asked for him." + +He shrugged his shoulders. A footman conducted Boris down one flight +of stairs and up another, to Pierre's rooms. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Pierre, after all, had not managed to choose a career for himself in +Petersburg, and had been expelled from there for riotous conduct and +sent to Moscow. The story told about him at Count Rostov's was true. +Pierre had taken part in tying a policeman to a bear. He had now +been for some days in Moscow and was staying as usual at his +father's house. Though he expected that the story of his escapade +would be already known in Moscow and that the ladies about his father- +who were never favorably disposed toward him- would have used it to +turn the count against him, he nevertheless on the day of his +arrival went to his father's part of the house. Entering the drawing +room, where the princesses spent most of their time, he greeted the +ladies, two of whom were sitting at embroidery frames while a third +read aloud. It was the eldest who was reading- the one who had met +Anna Mikhaylovna. The two younger ones were embroidering: both were +rosy and pretty and they differed only in that one had a little mole +on her lip which made her much prettier. Pierre was received as if +he were a corpse or a leper. The eldest princess paused in her reading +and silently stared at him with frightened eyes; the second assumed +precisely the same expression; while the youngest, the one with the +mole, who was of a cheerful and lively disposition, bent over her +frame to hide a smile probably evoked by the amusing scene she +foresaw. She drew her wool down through the canvas and, scarcely +able to refrain from laughing, stooped as if trying to make out the +pattern. + +"How do you do, cousin?" said Pierre. "You don't recognize me?" + +"I recognize you only too well, too well." + +"How is the count? Can I see him?" asked Pierre, awkwardly as usual, +but unabashed. + +"The count is suffering physically and mentally, and apparently +you have done your best to increase his mental sufferings." + +"Can I see the count?" Pierre again asked. + +"Hm.... If you wish to kill him, to kill him outright, you can see +him... Olga, go and see whether Uncle's beef tea is ready- it is +almost time," she added, giving Pierre to understand that they were +busy, and busy making his father comfortable, while evidently he, +Pierre, was only busy causing him annoyance. + +Olga went out. Pierre stood looking at the sisters; then he bowed +and said: "Then I will go to my rooms. You will let me know when I can +see him." + +And he left the room, followed by the low but ringing laughter of +the sister with the mole. + +Next day Prince Vasili had arrived and settled in the count's house. +He sent for Pierre and said to him: "My dear fellow, if you are +going to behave here as you did in Petersburg, you will end very +badly; that is all I have to say to you. The count is very, very +ill, and you must not see him at all." + +Since then Pierre had not been disturbed and had spent the whole +time in his rooms upstairs. + +When Boris appeared at his door Pierre was pacing up and down his +room, stopping occasionally at a corner to make menacing gestures at +the wall, as if running a sword through an invisible foe, and +glaring savagely over his spectacles, and then again resuming his +walk, muttering indistinct words, shrugging his shoulders and +gesticulating. + +"England is done for," said he, scowling and pointing his finger +at someone unseen. "Mr. Pitt, as a traitor to the nation and to the +rights of man, is sentenced to..." But before Pierre- who at that +moment imagined himself to be Napoleon in person and to have just +effected the dangerous crossing of the Straits of Dover and captured +London- could pronounce Pitt's sentence, he saw a well-built and +handsome young officer entering his room. Pierre paused. He had left +Moscow when Boris was a boy of fourteen, and had quite forgotten +him, but in his usual impulsive and hearty way he took Boris by the +hand with a friendly smile. + +"Do you remember me?" asked Boris quietly with a pleasant smile. +"I have come with my mother to see the count, but it seems he is not +well." + +"Yes, it seems he is ill. People are always disturbing him," +answered Pierre, trying to remember who this young man was. + +Boris felt that Pierre did not recognize him but did not consider it +necessary to introduce himself, and without experiencing the least +embarrassment looked Pierre straight in the face. + +"Count Rostov asks you to come to dinner today," said he, after a +considerable pause which made Pierre feel uncomfortable. + +"Ah, Count Rostov!" exclaimed Pierre joyfully. "Then you are his +son, Ilya? Only fancy, I didn't know you at first. Do you remember how +we went to the Sparrow Hills with Madame Jacquot?... It's such an +age..." + +"You are mistaken," said Boris deliberately, with a bold and +slightly sarcastic smile. "I am Boris, son of Princess Anna +Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya. Rostov, the father, is Ilya, and his son is +Nicholas. I never knew any Madame Jacquot." + +Pierre shook his head and arms as if attacked by mosquitoes or bees. + +"Oh dear, what am I thinking about? I've mixed everything up. One +has so many relatives in Moscow! So you are Boris? Of course. Well, +now we know where we are. And what do you think of the Boulogne +expedition? The English will come off badly, you know, if Napoleon +gets across the Channel. I think the expedition is quite feasible. +If only Villeneuve doesn't make a mess of things! + +Boris knew nothing about the Boulogne expedition; he did not read +the papers and it was the first time he had heard Villeneuve's name. + +"We here in Moscow are more occupied with dinner parties and scandal +than with politics," said he in his quiet ironical tone. "I know +nothing about it and have not thought about it. Moscow is chiefly busy +with gossip," he continued. "Just now they are talking about you and +your father." + +Pierre smiled in his good-natured way as if afraid for his +companion's sake that the latter might say something he would +afterwards regret. But Boris spoke distinctly, clearly, and dryly, +looking straight into Pierre's eyes. + +"Moscow has nothing else to do but gossip," Boris went on. +"Everybody is wondering to whom the count will leave his fortune, +though he may perhaps outlive us all, as I sincerely hope he will..." + +"Yes, it is all very horrid," interrupted Pierre, "very horrid." + +Pierre was still afraid that this officer might inadvertently say +something disconcerting to himself. + +"And it must seem to you," said Boris flushing slightly, but not +changing his tone or attitude, "it must seem to you that everyone is +trying to get something out of the rich man?" + +"So it does," thought Pierre. + +"But I just wish to say, to avoid misunderstandings, that you are +quite mistaken if you reckon me or my mother among such people. We are +very poor, but for my own part at any rate, for the very reason that +your father is rich, I don't regard myself as a relation of his, and +neither I nor my mother would ever ask or take anything from him." + +For a long time Pierre could not understand, but when he did, he +jumped up from the sofa, seized Boris under the elbow in his quick, +clumsy way, and, blushing far more than Boris, began to speak with a +feeling of mingled shame and vexation. + +"Well, this is strange! Do you suppose I... who could think?... I +know very well..." + +But Boris again interrupted him. + +"I am glad I have spoken out fully. Perhaps you did not like it? You +must excuse me," said he, putting Pierre at ease instead of being +put at ease by him, "but I hope I have not offended you. I always make +it a rule to speak out... Well, what answer am I to take? Will you +come to dinner at the Rostovs'?" + +And Boris, having apparently relieved himself of an onerous duty and +extricated himself from an awkward situation and placed another in it, +became quite pleasant again. + +"No, but I say," said Pierre, calming down, "you are a wonderful +fellow! What you have just said is good, very good. Of course you +don't know me. We have not met for such a long time... not since we +were children. You might think that I... I understand, quite +understand. I could not have done it myself, I should not have had the +courage, but it's splendid. I am very glad to have made your +acquaintance. It's queer," he added after a pause, "that you should +have suspected me!" He began to laugh. "Well, what of it! I hope we'll +get better acquainted," and he pressed Boris' hand. "Do you know, I +have not once been in to see the count. He has not sent for me.... I +am sorry for him as a man, but what can one do?" + +"And so you think Napoleon will manage to get an army across?" asked +Boris with a smile. + +Pierre saw that Boris wished to change the subject, and being of the +same mind he began explaining the advantages and disadvantages of +the Boulogne expedition. + +A footman came in to summon Boris- the princess was going. Pierre, +in order to make Boris' better acquaintance, promised to come to +dinner, and warmly pressing his hand looked affectionately over his +spectacles into Boris' eyes. After he had gone Pierre continued pacing +up and down the room for a long time, no longer piercing an +imaginary foe with his imaginary sword, but smiling at the remembrance +of that pleasant, intelligent, and resolute young man. + +As often happens in early youth, especially to one who leads a +lonely life, he felt an unaccountable tenderness for this young man +and made up his mind that they would be friends. + +Prince Vasili saw the princess off. She held a handkerchief to her +eyes and her face was tearful. + +"It is dreadful, dreadful!" she was saying, "but cost me what it may +I shall do my duty. I will come and spend the night. He must not be +left like this. Every moment is precious. I can't think why his nieces +put it off. Perhaps God will help me to find a way to prepare +him!... Adieu, Prince! May God support you..." + +"Adieu, ma bonne," answered Prince Vasili turning away from her. + +"Oh, he is in a dreadful state," said the mother to her son when +they were in the carriage. "He hardly recognizes anybody." + +"I don't understand, Mamma- what is his attitude to Pierre?" asked +the son. + +"The will will show that, my dear; our fate also depends on it." + +"But why do you expect that he will leave us anything?" + +"Ah, my dear! He is so rich, and we are so poor!" + +"Well, that is hardly a sufficient reason, Mamma..." + +"Oh, Heaven! How ill he is!" exclaimed the mother. + +CHAPTER XVII + +After Anna Mikhaylovna had driven off with her son to visit Count +Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov, Countess Rostova sat for a long time all +alone applying her handkerchief to her eyes. At last she rang. + +"What is the matter with you, my dear?" she said crossly to the maid +who kept her waiting some minutes. "Don't you wish to serve me? Then +I'll find you another place." + +The countess was upset by her friend's sorrow and humiliating +poverty, and was therefore out of sorts, a state of mind which with +her always found expression in calling her maid "my dear" and speaking +to her with exaggerated politeness. + +"I am very sorry, ma'am," answered the maid. + +"Ask the count to come to me." + +The count came waddling in to see his wife with a rather guilty look +as usual. + +"Well, little countess? What a saute of game au madere we are to +have, my dear! I tasted it. The thousand rubles I paid for Taras +were not ill-spent. He is worth it!" + +He sat down by his wife, his elbows on his knees and his hands +ruffling his gray hair. + +"What are your commands, little countess?" + +"You see, my dear... What's that mess?" she said, pointing to his +waistcoat. "It's, the saute, most likely," she added with a smile. +"Well, you see, Count, I want some money." + +Her face became sad. + +"Oh, little countess!"... and the count began bustling to get out +his pocketbook. + +"I want a great deal, Count! I want five hundred rubles," and taking +out her cambric handkerchief she began wiping her husband's waistcoat. + +"Yes, immediately, immediately! Hey, who's there?" he called out +in a tone only used by persons who are certain that those they call +will rush to obey the summons. "Send Dmitri to me!" + +Dmitri, a man of good family who had been brought up in the +count's house and now managed all his affairs, stepped softly into the +room. + +"This is what I want, my dear fellow," said the count to the +deferential young man who had entered. "Bring me..." he reflected a +moment, "yes, bring me seven hundred rubles, yes! But mind, don't +bring me such tattered and dirty notes as last time, but nice clean +ones for the countess." + +"Yes, Dmitri, clean ones, please," said the countess, sighing +deeply. + +"When would you like them, your excellency?" asked Dmitri. "Allow me +to inform you... But, don't be uneasy," he added, noticing that the +count was beginning to breathe heavily and quickly which was always +a sign of approaching anger. "I was forgetting... Do you wish it +brought at once?" + +"Yes, yes; just so! Bring it. Give it to the countess." + +"What a treasure that Dmitri is," added the count with a smile +when the young man had departed. "There is never any 'impossible' with +him. That's a thing I hate! Everything is possible." + +"Ah, money, Count, money! How much sorrow it causes in the world," +said the countess. "But I am in great need of this sum." + +"You, my little countess, are a notorious spendthrift," said the +count, and having kissed his wife's hand he went back to his study. + +When Anna Mikhaylovna returned from Count Bezukhov's the money, +all in clean notes, was lying ready under a handkerchief on the +countess' little table, and Anna Mikhaylovna noticed that something +was agitating her. + +"Well, my dear?" asked the countess. + +"Oh, what a terrible state he is in! One would not know him, he is +so ill! I was only there a few moments and hardly said a word..." + +"Annette, for heaven's sake don't refuse me," the countess began, +with a blush that looked very strange on her thin, dignified, +elderly face, and she took the money from under the handkerchief. + +Anna Mikhaylovna instantly guessed her intention and stooped to be +ready to embrace the countess at the appropriate moment. + +"This is for Boris from me, for his outfit." + +Anna Mikhaylovna was already embracing her and weeping. The countess +wept too. They wept because they were friends, and because they were +kindhearted, and because they- friends from childhood- had to think +about such a base thing as money, and because their youth was over.... +But those tears were pleasant to them both. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Countess Rostova, with her daughters and a large number of guests, +was already seated in the drawing room. The count took the gentlemen +into his study and showed them his choice collection of Turkish pipes. +From time to time he went out to ask: "Hasn't she come yet?" They were +expecting Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, known in society as le +terrible dragon, a lady distinguished not for wealth or rank, but +for common sense and frank plainness of speech. Marya Dmitrievna was +known to the Imperial family as well as to all Moscow and +Petersburg, and both cities wondered at her, laughed privately at +her rudenesses, and told good stories about her, while none the less +all without exception respected and feared her. + +In the count's room, which was full of tobacco smoke, they talked of +war that had been announced in a manifesto, and about the +recruiting. None of them had yet seen the manifesto, but they all knew +it had appeared. The count sat on the sofa between two guests who were +smoking and talking. He neither smoked nor talked, but bending his +head first to one side and then to the other watched the smokers +with evident pleasure and listened to the conversation of his two +neighbors, whom he egged on against each other. + +One of them was a sallow, clean-shaven civilian with a thin and +wrinkled face, already growing old, though he was dressed like a +most fashionable young man. He sat with his legs up on the sofa as +if quite at home and, having stuck an amber mouthpiece far into his +mouth, was inhaling the smoke spasmodically and screwing up his +eyes. This was an old bachelor, Shinshin, a cousin of the countess', a +man with "a sharp tongue" as they said in Moscow society. He seemed to +be condescending to his companion. The latter, a fresh, rosy officer +of the Guards, irreproachably washed, brushed, and buttoned, held +his pipe in the middle of his mouth and with red lips gently inhaled +the smoke, letting it escape from his handsome mouth in rings. This +was Lieutenant Berg, an officer in the Semenov regiment with whom +Boris was to travel to join the army, and about whom Natasha had, +teased her elder sister Vera, speaking of Berg as her "intended." +The count sat between them and listened attentively. His favorite +occupation when not playing boston, a card game he was very fond of, +was that of listener, especially when he succeeded in setting two +loquacious talkers at one another. + +"Well, then, old chap, mon tres honorable Alphonse Karlovich," +said Shinshin, laughing ironically and mixing the most ordinary +Russian expressions with the choicest French phrases- which was a +peculiarity of his speech. "Vous comptez vous faire des rentes sur +l'etat;~^ you want to make something out of your company?" + +^~ You expect to make an income out of the government. + +"No, Peter Nikolaevich; I only want to show that in the cavalry +the advantages are far less than in the infantry. Just consider my own +position now, Peter Nikolaevich..." + +Berg always spoke quietly, politely, and with great precision. His +conversation always related entirely to himself; he would remain +calm and silent when the talk related to any topic that had no +direct bearing on himself. He could remain silent for hours without +being at all put out of countenance himself or making others +uncomfortable, but as soon as the conversation concerned himself he +would begin to talk circumstantially and with evident satisfaction. + +"Consider my position, Peter Nikolaevich. Were I in the cavalry I +should get not more than two hundred rubles every four months, even +with the rank of lieutenant; but as it is I receive two hundred and +thirty," said he, looking at Shinshin and the count with a joyful, +pleasant smile, as if it were obvious to him that his success must +always be the chief desire of everyone else. + +"Besides that, Peter Nikolaevich, by exchanging into the Guards I +shall be in a more prominent position," continued Berg, "and vacancies +occur much more frequently in the Foot Guards. Then just think what +can be done with two hundred and thirty rubles! I even manage to put a +little aside and to send something to my father," he went on, emitting +a smoke ring. + +"La balance y est...~^ A German knows how to skin a flint, as the +proverb says," remarked Shinshin, moving his pipe to the other side of +his mouth and winking at the count. + +^~ So that squares matters. + +The count burst out laughing. The other guests seeing that +Shinshin was talking came up to listen. Berg, oblivious of irony or +indifference, continued to explain how by exchanging into the Guards +he had already gained a step on his old comrades of the Cadet Corps; +how in wartime the company commander might get killed and he, as +senior in the company, might easily succeed to the post; how popular +he was with everyone in the regiment, and how satisfied his father was +with him. Berg evidently enjoyed narrating all this, and did not +seem to suspect that others, too, might have their own interests. +But all he said was so prettily sedate, and the naivete of his +youthful egotism was so obvious, that he disarmed his hearers. + +"Well, my boy, you'll get along wherever you go- foot or horse- that +I'll warrant," said Shinshin, patting him on the shoulder and taking +his feet off the sofa. + +Berg smiled joyously. The count, by his guests, went into the +drawing room. + +It was just the moment before a big dinner when the assembled +guests, expecting the summons to zakuska,~^ avoid engaging in any +long conversation but think it necessary to move about and talk, in +order to show that they are not at all impatient for their food. The +host and hostess look toward the door, and now and then glance at +one another, and the visitors try to guess from these glances who, +or what, they are waiting for- some important relation who has not yet +arrived, or a dish that is not yet ready. + +^~ Hors d'oeuvres. + +Pierre had come just at dinnertime and was sitting awkwardly in +the middle of the drawing room on the first chair he had come +across, blocking the way for everyone. The countess tried to make +him talk, but he went on naively looking around through his spectacles +as if in search of somebody and answered all her questions in +monosyllables. He was in the way and was the only one who did not +notice the fact. Most of the guests, knowing of the affair with the +bear, looked with curiosity at this big, stout, quiet man, wondering +how such a clumsy, modest fellow could have played such a prank on a +policeman. + +"You have only lately arrived?" the countess asked him. + +"Oui, madame," replied he, looking around him. + +"You have not yet seen my husband?" + +"Non, madame." He smiled quite inappropriately. + +"You have been in Paris recently, I believe? I suppose it's very +interesting." + +"Very interesting." + +The countess exchanged glances with Anna Mikhaylovna. The latter +understood that she was being asked to entertain this young man, and +sitting down beside him she began to speak about his father; but he +answered her, as he had the countess, only in monosyllables. The other +guests were all conversing with one another. "The Razumovskis... It +was charming... You are very kind... Countess Apraksina..." was +heard on all sides. The countess rose and went into the ballroom. + +"Marya Dmitrievna?" came her voice from there. + +"Herself," came the answer in a rough voice, and Marya Dmitrievna +entered the room. + +All the unmarried ladies and even the married ones except the very +oldest rose. Marya Dmitrievna paused at the door. Tall and stout, +holding high her fifty-year-old head with its gray curls, she stood +surveying the guests, and leisurely arranged her wide sleeves as if +rolling them up. Marya Dmitrievna always spoke in Russian. + +"Health and happiness to her whose name day we are keeping and to +her children," she said, in her loud, full-toned voice which drowned +all others. "Well, you old sinner," she went on, turning to the +count who was kissing her hand, "you're feeling dull in Moscow, I +daresay? Nowhere to hunt with your dogs? But what is to be done, old +man? Just see how these nestlings are growing up," and she pointed +to the girls. "You must look for husbands for them whether you like it +or not...." + +Well," said she, "how's my Cossack?" (Marya Dmitrievna always called +Natasha a Cossack) and she stroked the child's arm as she came up +fearless and gay to kiss her hand. "I know she's a scamp of a girl, +but I like her." + +She took a pair of pear-shaped ruby earrings from her huge +reticule and, having given them to the rosy Natasha, who beamed with +the pleasure of her saint's-day fete, turned away at once and +addressed herself to Pierre. + +"Eh, eh, friend! Come here a bit," said she, assuming a soft high +tone of voice. "Come here, my friend..." and she ominously tucked up +her sleeves still higher. Pierre approached, looking at her in a +childlike way through his spectacles. + +"Come nearer, come nearer, friend! I used to be the only one to tell +your father the truth when he was in favor, and in your case it's my +evident duty." She paused. All were silent, expectant of what was to +follow, for this was dearly only a prelude. + +"A fine lad! My word! A fine lad!... His father lies on his deathbed +and he amuses himself setting a policeman astride a bear! For shame, +sir, for shame! It would be better if you went to the war." + +She turned away and gave her hand to the count, who could hardly +keep from laughing. + +"Well, I suppose it is time we were at table?" said Marya +Dmitrievna. + +The count went in first with Marya Dmitrievna, the countess followed +on the arm of a colonel of hussars, a man of importance to them +because Nicholas was to go with him to the regiment; then came Anna +Mikhaylovna with Shinshin. Berg gave his arm to Vera. The smiling +Julie Karagina went in with Nicholas. After them other couples +followed, filling the whole dining hall, and last of all the children, +tutors, and governesses followed singly. The footmen began moving +about, chairs scraped, the band struck up in the gallery, and the +guests settled down in their places. Then the strains of the count's +household band were replaced by the clatter of knives and forks, the +voices of visitors, and the soft steps of the footmen. At one end of +the table sat the countess with Marya Dmitrievna on her right and Anna +Mikhaylovna on her left, the other lady visitors were farther down. At +the other end sat the count, with the hussar colonel on his left and +Shinshin and the other male visitors on his right. Midway down the +long table on one side sat the grownup young people: Vera beside Berg, +and Pierre beside Boris; and on the other side, the children, +tutors, and governesses. From behind the crystal decanters and fruit +vases the count kept glancing at his wife and her tall cap with its +light-blue ribbons, and busily filled his neighbors' glasses, not +neglecting his own. The countess in turn, without omitting her +duties as hostess, threw significant glances from behind the +pineapples at her husband whose face and bald head seemed by their +redness to contrast more than usual with his gray hair. At the ladies' +end an even chatter of voices was heard all the time, at the men's end +the voices sounded louder and louder, especially that of the colonel +of hussars who, growing more and more flushed, ate and drank so much +that the count held him up as a pattern to the other guests. Berg with +tender smiles was saying to Vera that love is not an earthly but a +heavenly feeling. Boris was telling his new friend Pierre who the +guests were and exchanging glances with Natasha, who was sitting +opposite. Pierre spoke little but examined the new faces, and ate a +great deal. Of the two soups he chose turtle with savory patties and +went on to the game without omitting a single dish or one of the +wines. These latter the butler thrust mysteriously forward, wrapped in +a napkin, from behind the next man's shoulders and whispered: "Dry +Madeira"... "Hungarian"... or "Rhine wine" as the case might be. Of +the four crystal glasses engraved with the count's monogram that stood +before his plate, Pierre held out one at random and drank with +enjoyment, gazing with ever-increasing amiability at the other guests. +Natasha, who sat opposite, was looking at Boris as girls of thirteen +look at the boy they are in love with and have just kissed for the +first time. Sometimes that same look fell on Pierre, and that funny +lively little girl's look made him inclined to laugh without knowing +why. + +Nicholas sat at some distance from Sonya, beside Julie Karagina, +to whom he was again talking with the same involuntary smile. Sonya +wore a company smile but was evidently tormented by jealousy; now +she turned pale, now blushed and strained every nerve to overhear what +Nicholas and Julie were saying to one another. The governess kept +looking round uneasily as if preparing to resent any slight that might +be put upon the children. The German tutor was trying to remember +all the dishes, wines, and kinds of dessert, in order to send a full +description of the dinner to his people in Germany; and he felt +greatly offended when the butler with a bottle wrapped in a napkin +passed him by. He frowned, trying to appear as if he did not want +any of that wine, but was mortified because no one would understand +that it was not to quench his thirst or from greediness that he wanted +it, but simply from a conscientious desire for knowledge. + +CHAPTER XIX + +At the men's end of the table the talk grew more and more +animated. The colonel told them that the declaration of war had +already appeared in Petersburg and that a copy, which he had himself +seen, had that day been forwarded by courier to the commander in +chief. + +"And why the deuce are we going to fight Bonaparte?" remarked +Shinshin. "He has stopped Austria's cackle and I fear it will be our +turn next." + +The colonel was a stout, tall, plethoric German, evidently devoted +to the service and patriotically Russian. He resented Shinshin's +remark. + +"It is for the reasson, my goot sir," said he, speaking with a +German accent, "for the reasson zat ze Emperor knows zat. He +declares in ze manifessto zat he cannot fiew wiz indifference ze +danger vreatening Russia and zat ze safety and dignity of ze Empire as +vell as ze sanctity of its alliances..." he spoke this last word +with particular emphasis as if in it lay the gist of the matter. + +Then with the unerring official memory that characterized him he +repeated from the opening words of the manifesto: + +... and the wish, which constitutes the Emperor's sole and +absolute aim- to establish peace in Europe on firm foundations- has +now decided him to despatch part of the army abroad and to create a +new condition for the attainment of that purpose. + +"Zat, my dear sir, is vy..." he concluded, drinking a tumbler of +wine with dignity and looking to the count for approval. + +"Connaissez-vous le Proverbe:~^ 'Jerome, Jerome, do not roam, but +turn spindles at home!'?" said Shinshin, puckering his brows and +smiling. "Cela nous convient a merveille.~^ Suvorov now- he knew +what he was about; yet they beat him a plate couture,~^ and where +are we to find Suvorovs now? Je vous demande un peu,"~^ said he, +continually changing from French to Russian. + +^~ Do you know the proverb? + +^~ That suits us down to the ground. + +^~ Hollow. + +^~ I just ask you that. + +"Ve must vight to the last tr-r-op of our plood!" said the +colonel, thumping the table; "and ve must tie for our Emperor, and zen +all vill pe vell. And ve must discuss it as little as po-o-ossible"... +he dwelt particularly on the word possible... "as po-o-ossible," he +ended, again turning to the count. "Zat is how ve old hussars look +at it, and zere's an end of it! And how do you, a young man and a +young hussar, how do you judge of it?" he added, addressing +Nicholas, who when he heard that the war was being discussed had +turned from his partner with eyes and ears intent on the colonel. + +"I am quite of your opinion," replied Nicholas, flaming up, +turning his plate round and moving his wineglasses about with as +much decision and desperation as though he were at that moment +facing some great danger. "I am convinced that we Russians must die or +conquer," he concluded, conscious- as were others- after the words +were uttered that his remarks were too enthusiastic and emphatic for +the occasion and were therefore awkward. + +"What you said just now was splendid!" said his partner Julie. + +Sonya trembled all over and blushed to her ears and behind them +and down to her neck and shoulders while Nicholas was speaking. + +Pierre listened to the colonel's speech and nodded approvingly. + +"That's fine," said he. + +"The young man's a real hussar!" shouted the colonel, again thumping +the table. + +"What are you making such a noise about over there?" Marya +Dmitrievna's deep voice suddenly inquired from the other end of the +table. "What are you thumping the table for?" she demanded of the +hussar, "and why are you exciting yourself? Do you think the French +are here?" + +"I am speaking ze truce," replied the hussar with a smile. + +"It's all about the war," the count shouted down the table. "You +know my son's going, Marya Dmitrievna? My son is going." + +"I have four sons in the army but still I don't fret. It is all in +God's hands. You may die in your bed or God may spare you in a +battle," replied Marya Dmitrievna's deep voice, which easily carried +the whole length of the table. + +"That's true!" + +Once more the conversations concentrated, the ladies' at the one end +and the men's at the other. + +"You won't ask," Natasha's little brother was saying; "I know you +won't ask!" + +"I will," replied Natasha. + +Her face suddenly flushed with reckless and joyous resolution. She +half rose, by a glance inviting Pierre, who sat opposite, to listen to +what was coming, and turning to her mother: + +"Mamma!" rang out the clear contralto notes of her childish voice, +audible the whole length of the table. + +"What is it?" asked the countess, startled; but seeing by her +daughter's face that it was only mischief, she shook a finger at her +sternly with a threatening and forbidding movement of her head. + +The conversation was hushed. + +"Mamma! What sweets are we going to have?" and Natasha's voice +sounded still more firm and resolute. + +The countess tried to frown, but could not. Marya Dmitrievna shook +her fat finger. + +"Cossack!" she said threateningly. + +Most of the guests, uncertain how to regard this sally, looked at +the elders. + +"You had better take care!" said the countess. + +"Mamma! What sweets are we going to have?" Natasha again cried +boldly, with saucy gaiety, confident that her prank would be taken +in good part. + +Sonya and fat little Petya doubled up with laughter. + +"You see! I have asked," whispered Natasha to her little brother and +to Pierre, glancing at him again. + +"Ice pudding, but you won't get any," said Marya Dmitrievna. + +Natasha saw there was nothing to be afraid of and so she braved even +Marya Dmitrievna. + +"Marya Dmitrievna! What kind of ice pudding? I don't like ice +cream." + +"Carrot ices." + +"No! What kind, Marya Dmitrievna? What kind?" she almost screamed; +"I want to know!" + +Marya Dmitrievna and the countess burst out laughing, and all the +guests joined in. Everyone laughed, not at Marya Dmitrievna's answer +but at the incredible boldness and smartness of this little girl who +had dared to treat Marya Dmitrievna in this fashion. + +Natasha only desisted when she had been told that there would be +pineapple ice. Before the ices, champagne was served round. The band +again struck up, the count and countess kissed, and the guests, +leaving their seats, went up to "congratulate" the countess, and +reached across the table to clink glasses with the count, with the +children, and with one another. Again the footmen rushed about, chairs +scraped, and in the same order in which they had entered but with +redder faces, the guests returned to the drawing room and to the +count's study. + +CHAPTER XX + +The card tables were drawn out, sets made up for boston, and the +count's visitors settled themselves, some in the two drawing rooms, +some in the sitting room, some in the library. + +The count, holding his cards fanwise, kept himself with difficulty +from dropping into his usual after-dinner nap, and laughed at +everything. The young people, at the countess' instigation, gathered +round the clavichord and harp. Julie by general request played +first. After she had played a little air with variations on the +harp, she joined the other young ladies in begging Natasha and +Nicholas, who were noted for their musical talent, to sing +something. Natasha, who was treated as though she were grown up, was +evidently very proud of this but at the same time felt shy. + +"What shall we sing?" she said. + +"'The Brook,'" suggested Nicholas. + +"Well, then,let's be quick. Boris, come here," said Natasha. "But +where is Sonya?" + +She looked round and seeing that her friend was not in the room +ran to look for her. + +Running into Sonya's room and not finding her there, Natasha ran +to the nursery, but Sonya was not there either. Natasha concluded that +she must be on the chest in the passage. The chest in the passage +was the place of mourning for the younger female generation in the +Rostov household. And there in fact was Sonya lying face downward on +Nurse's dirty feather bed on the top of the chest, crumpling her gauzy +pink dress under her, hiding her face with her slender fingers, and +sobbing so convulsively that her bare little shoulders shook. +Natasha's face, which had been so radiantly happy all that saint's +day, suddenly changed: her eyes became fixed, and then a shiver passed +down her broad neck and the corners of her mouth drooped. + +"Sonya! What is it? What is the matter?... Oo... Oo... Oo...!" And +Natasha's large mouth widened, making her look quite ugly, and she +began to wail like a baby without knowing why, except that Sonya was +crying. Sonya tried to lift her head to answer but could not, and +hid her face still deeper in the bed. Natasha wept, sitting on the +blue-striped feather bed and hugging her friend. With an effort +Sonya sat up and began wiping her eyes and explaining. + +"Nicholas is going away in a week's time, his... papers... have +come... he told me himself... but still I should not cry," and she +showed a paper she held in her hand- with the verses Nicholas had +written, "still, I should not cry, but you can't... no one can +understand... what a soul he has!" + +And she began to cry again because he had such a noble soul. + +"It's all very well for you... I am not envious... I love you and +Boris also," she went on, gaining a little strength; "he is nice... +there are no difficulties in your way.... But Nicholas is my cousin... +one would have to... the Metropolitan himself... and even then it +can't be done. And besides, if she tells Mamma" (Sonya looked upon the +countess as her mother and called her so) "that I am spoiling +Nicholas' career and am heartless and ungrateful, while truly... God +is my witness," and she made the sign of the cross, "I love her so +much, and all of you, only Vera... And what for? What have I done to +her? I am so grateful to you that I would willingly sacrifice +everything, only I have nothing...." + +Sonya could not continue, and again hid her face in her hands and in +the feather bed. Natasha began consoling her, but her face showed that +she understood all the gravity of her friend's trouble. + +"Sonya," she suddenly exclaimed, as if she had guessed the true +reason of her friend's sorrow, "I'm sure Vera has said something to +you since dinner? Hasn't she?" + +"Yes, these verses Nicholas wrote himself and I copied some +others, and she found them on my table and said she'd show them to +Mamma, and that I was ungrateful, and that Mamma would never allow him +to marry me, but that he'll marry Julie. You see how he's been with +her all day... Natasha, what have I done to deserve it?..." + +And again she began to sob, more bitterly than before. Natasha +lifted her up, hugged her, and, smiling through her tears, began +comforting her. + +"Sonya, don't believe her, darling! Don't believe her! Do you +remember how we and Nicholas, all three of us, talked in the sitting +room after supper? Why, we settled how everything was to be. I don't +quite remember how, but don't you remember that it could all be +arranged and how nice it all was? There's Uncle Shinshin's brother has +married his first cousin. And we are only second cousins, you know. +And Boris says it is quite possible. You know I have told him all +about it. And he is so clever and so good!" said Natasha. "Don't you +cry, Sonya, dear love, darling Sonya!" and she kissed her and laughed. +"Vera's spiteful; never mind her! And all will come right and she +won't say anything to Mamma. Nicholas will tell her himself, and he +doesn't care at all for Julie." + +Natasha kissed her on the hair. + +Sonya sat up. The little kitten brightened, its eyes shone, and it +seemed ready to lift its tail, jump down on its soft paws, and begin +playing with the ball of worsted as a kitten should. + +"Do you think so?... Really? Truly?" she said, quickly smoothing her +frock and hair. + +"Really, truly!" answered Natasha, pushing in a crisp lock that +had strayed from under her friend's plaits. + +Both laughed. + +"Well, let's go and sing 'The Brook.'" + +"Come along!" + +"Do you know, that fat Pierre who sat opposite me is so funny!" said +Natasha, stopping suddenly. "I feel so happy!" + +And she set off at a run along the passage. + +Sonya, shaking off some down which clung to her and tucking away the +verses in the bosom of her dress close to her bony little chest, ran +after Natasha down the passage into the sitting room with flushed face +and light, joyous steps. At the visitors' request the young people +sang the quartette, "The Brook," with which everyone was delighted. +Then Nicholas sang a song he had just learned: + +_1 At nighttime in the moon's fair glow<br> +How sweet, as fancies wander free,<br> +To feel that in this world there's one<br> +Who still is thinking but of thee! + +_1 That while her fingers touch the harp<br> +Wafting sweet music music the lea,<br> +It is for thee thus swells her heart,<br> +Sighing its message out to thee... + +_1 A day or two, then bliss unspoilt,<br> +But oh! till then I cannot live!... + +He had not finished the last verse before the young people began +to get ready to dance in the large hall, and the sound of the feet and +the coughing of the musicians were heard from the gallery. + +Pierre was sitting in the drawing-room where Shinshin had engaged +him, as a man recently returned from abroad, in a political +conversation in which several others joined but which bored Pierre. +When the music began Natasha came in and walking straight up to Pierre +said, laughing and blushing: + +"Mamma told me to ask you to join the dancers." + +"I am afraid of mixing the figures," Pierre replied; "but if you +will be my teacher..." And lowering his big arm he offered it to the +slender little girl. + +While the couples were arranging themselves and the musicians tuning +up, Pierre sat down with his little partner. Natasha was perfectly +happy; she was dancing with a grown-up man, who had been abroad. She +was sitting in a conspicuous place and talking to him like a +grown-up lady. She had a fan in her hand that one of the ladies had +given her to hold. Assuming quite the pose of a society woman +(heaven knows when and where she had learned it) she talked with her +partner, fanning herself and smiling over the fan. + +"Dear, dear! Just look at her!" exclaimed the countess as she +crossed the ballroom, pointing to Natasha. + +Natasha blushed and laughed. + +"Well, really, Mamma! Why should you? What is there to be +surprised at?" + +In the midst of the third ecossaise there was a clatter of chairs +being pushed back in the sitting room where the count and Marya +Dmitrievna had been playing cards with the majority of the more +distinguished and older visitors. They now, stretching themselves +after sitting so long, and replacing their purses and pocketbooks, +entered the ballroom. First came Marya Dmitrievna and the count, +both with merry countenances. The count, with playful ceremony +somewhat in ballet style, offered his bent arm to Marya Dmitrievna. He +drew himself up, a smile of debonair gallantry lit up his face and +as soon as the last figure of the ecossaise was ended, he clapped +his hands to the musicians and shouted up to their gallery, addressing +the first violin: + +"Semen! Do you know the Daniel Cooper?" + +This was the count's favorite dance, which he had danced in his +youth. (Strictly speaking, Daniel Cooper was one figure of the +anglaise.) + +"Look at Papa!" shouted Natasha to the whole company, and quite +forgetting that she was dancing with a grown-up partner she bent her +curly head to her knees and made the whole room ring with her +laughter. + +And indeed everybody in the room looked with a smile of pleasure +at the jovial old gentleman, who standing beside his tall and stout +partner, Marya Dmitrievna, curved his arms, beat time, straightened +his shoulders, turned out his toes, tapped gently with his foot, +and, by a smile that broadened his round face more and more, +prepared the onlookers for what was to follow. As soon as the +provocatively gay strains of Daniel Cooper (somewhat resembling +those of a merry peasant dance) began to sound, all the doorways of +the ballroom were suddenly filled by the domestic serfs- the men on +one side and the women on the other- who with beaming faces had come +to see their master making merry. + +"Just look at the master! A regular eagle he is!" loudly remarked +the nurse, as she stood in one of the doorways. + +The count danced well and knew it. But his partner could not and did +not want to dance well. Her enormous figure stood erect, her +powerful arms hanging down (she had handed her reticule to the +countess), and only her stern but handsome face really joined in the +dance. What was expressed by the whole of the count's plump figure, in +Marya Dmitrievna found expression only in her more and more beaming +face and quivering nose. But if the count, getting more and more +into the swing of it, charmed the spectators by the unexpectedness +of his adroit maneuvers and the agility with which he capered about on +his light feet, Marya Dmitrievna produced no less impression by slight +exertions- the least effort to move her shoulders or bend her arms +when turning, or stamp her foot- which everyone appreciated in view of +her size and habitual severity. The dance grew livelier and +livelier. The other couples could not attract a moment's attention +to their own evolutions and did not even try to do so. All were +watching the count and Marya Dmitrievna. Natasha kept pulling everyone +by sleeve or dress, urging them to "look at Papa!" though as it was +they never took their eyes off the couple. In the intervals of the +dance the count, breathing deeply, waved and shouted to the +musicians to play faster. Faster, faster, and faster; lightly, more +lightly, and yet more lightly whirled the count, flying round Marya +Dmitrievna, now on his toes, now on his heels; until, turning his +partner round to her seat, he executed the final pas, raising his soft +foot backwards, bowing his perspiring head, smiling and making a +wide sweep with his arm, amid a thunder of applause and laughter led +by Natasha. Both partners stood still, breathing heavily and wiping +their faces with their cambric handkerchiefs. + +"That's how we used to dance in our time, ma chere," said the count. + +"That was a Daniel Cooper!" exclaimed Marya Dmitrievna, tucking up +her sleeves and puffing heavily. + +CHAPTER XXI + +While in the Rostovs' ballroom the sixth anglaise was being +danced, to a tune in which the weary musicians blundered, and while +tired footmen and cooks were getting the supper, Count Bezukhov had +a sixth stroke. The doctors pronounced recovery impossible. After a +mute confession, communion was administered to the dying man, +preparations made for the sacrament of unction, and in his house there +was the bustle and thrill of suspense usual at such moments. Outside +the house, beyond the gates, a group of undertakers, who hid +whenever a carriage drove up, waited in expectation of an important +order for an expensive funeral. The Military Governor of Moscow, who +had been assiduous in sending aides-de-camp to inquire after the +count's health, came himself that evening to bid a last farewell to +the celebrated grandee of Catherine's court, Count Bezukhov. + +The magnificent reception room was crowded. Everyone stood up +respectfully when the Military Governor, having stayed about half an +hour alone with the dying man, passed out, slightly acknowledging +their bows and trying to escape as quickly as from the glances fixed +on him by the doctors, clergy, and relatives of the family. Prince +Vasili, who had grown thinner and paler during the last few days, +escorted him to the door, repeating something to him several times +in low tones. + +When the Military Governor had gone, Prince Vasili sat down all +alone on a chair in the ballroom, crossing one leg high over the +other, leaning his elbow on his knee and covering his face with his +hand. After sitting so for a while he rose, and, looking about him +with frightened eyes, went with unusually hurried steps down the +long corridor leading to the back of the house, to the room of the +eldest princess. + +Those who were in the dimly lit reception room spoke in nervous +whispers, and, whenever anyone went into or came from the dying +man's room, grew silent and gazed with eyes full of curiosity or +expectancy at his door, which creaked slightly when opened. + +"The limits of human life... are fixed and may not be o'erpassed," +said an old priest to a lady who had taken a seat beside him and was +listening naively to his words. + +"I wonder, is it not too late to administer unction?" asked the +lady, adding the priest's clerical title, as if she had no opinion +of her own on the subject. + +"Ah, madam, it is a great sacrament, "replied the priest, passing +his hand over the thin grizzled strands of hair combed back across his +bald head. + +"Who was that? The Military Governor himself?" was being asked at +the other side of the room. "How young-looking he is!" + +"Yes, and he is over sixty. I hear the count no longer recognizes +anyone. They wished to administer the sacrament of unction." + +"I knew someone who received that sacrament seven times." + +The second princess had just come from the sickroom with her eyes +red from weeping and sat down beside Dr. Lorrain, who was sitting in a +graceful pose under a portrait of Catherine, leaning his elbow on a +table. + +"Beautiful," said the doctor in answer to a remark about the +weather. "The weather is beautiful, Princess; and besides, in Moscow +one feels as if one were in the country." + +"Yes, indeed," replied the princess with a sigh. "So he may have +something to drink?" + +Lorrain considered. + +"Has he taken his medicine?" + +"Yes." + +The doctor glanced at his watch. + +"Take a glass of boiled water and put a pinch of cream of tartar," +and he indicated with his delicate fingers what he meant by a pinch. + +"Dere has neffer been a gase," a German doctor was saying to an +aide-de-camp, "dat one liffs after de sird stroke." + +"And what a well-preserved man he was!" remarked the aide-de-camp. +"And who will inherit his wealth?" he added in a whisper. + +"It von't go begging," replied the German with a smile. + +Everyone again looked toward the door, which creaked as the second +princess went in with the drink she had prepared according to +Lorrain's instructions. The German doctor went up to Lorrain. + +"Do you think he can last till morning?" asked the German, +addressing Lorrain in French which he pronounced badly. + +Lorrain, pursing up his lips, waved a severely negative finger +before his nose. + +"Tonight, not later," said he in a low voice, and he moved away with +a decorous smile of self-satisfaction at being able clearly to +understand and state the patient's condition. + +Meanwhile Prince Vasili had opened the door into the princess' room. + +In this room it was almost dark; only two tiny lamps were burning +before the icons and there was a pleasant scent of flowers and burnt +pastilles. The room was crowded with small pieces of furniture, +whatnots, cupboards, and little tables. The quilt of a high, white +feather bed was just visible behind a screen. A small dog began to +bark. + +"Ah, is it you, cousin?" + +She rose and smoothed her hair, which was as usual so extremely +smooth that it seemed to be made of one piece with her head and +covered with varnish. + +"Has anything happened?" she asked. "I am so terrified." + +"No, there is no change. I only came to have a talk about +business, Catiche,"~^ muttered the prince, seating himself wearily on +the chair she had just vacated. "You have made the place warm, I +must say," he remarked. "Well, sit down: let's have a talk." + +^~ Catherine. + +"I thought perhaps something had happened," she said with her +unchanging stonily severe expression; and, sitting down opposite the +prince, she prepared to listen. + +"I wished to get a nap, mon cousin, but I can't." + +"Well, my dear?" said Prince Vasili, taking her hand and bending +it downwards as was his habit. + +It was plain that this "well?" referred to much that they both +understood without naming. + +The princess, who had a straight, rigid body, abnormally long for +her legs, looked directly at Prince Vasili with no sign of emotion +in her prominent gray eyes. Then she shook her head and glanced up +at the icons with a sigh. This might have been taken as an +expression of sorrow and devotion, or of weariness and hope of resting +before long. Prince Vasili understood it as an expression of +weariness. + +"And I?" he said; "do you think it is easier for me? I am as worn +out as a post horse, but still I must have a talk with you, Catiche, a +very serious talk." + +Prince Vasili said no more and his cheeks began to twitch nervously, +now on one side, now on the other, giving his face an unpleasant +expression which was never to be seen on it in a drawing room. His +eyes too seemed strange; at one moment they looked impudently sly +and at the next glanced round in alarm. + +The princess, holding her little dog on her lap with her thin bony +hands, looked attentively into Prince Vasili's eyes evidently resolved +not to be the first to break silence, if she had to wait till morning. + +"Well, you see, my dear princess and cousin, Catherine Semenovna," +continued Prince Vasili, returning to his theme, apparently not +without an inner struggle; "at such a moment as this one must think of +everything. One must think of the future, of all of you... I love +you all, like children of my own, as you know." + +The princess continued to look at him without moving, and with the +same dull expression. + +"And then of course my family has also to be considered," Prince +Vasili went on, testily pushing away a little table without looking at +her. "You know, Catiche, that we- you three sisters, Mamontov, and +my wife- are the count's only direct heirs. I know, I know how hard it +is for you to talk or think of such matters. It is no easier for me; +but, my dear, I am getting on for sixty and must be prepared for +anything. Do you know I have sent for Pierre? The count," pointing +to his portrait, "definitely demanded that he should be called." + +Prince Vasili looked questioningly at the princess, but could not +make out whether she was considering what he had just said or +whether she was simply looking at him. + +"There is one thing I constantly pray God to grant, mon cousin," she +replied, "and it is that He would be merciful to him and would allow +his noble soul peacefully to leave this..." + +"Yes, yes, of course," interrupted Prince Vasili impatiently, +rubbing his bald head and angrily pulling back toward him the little +table that he had pushed away. "But... in short, the fact is... you +know yourself that last winter the count made a will by which he +left all his property, not to us his direct heirs, but to Pierre." + +"He has made wills enough!" quietly remarked the princess. "But he +cannot leave the estate to Pierre. Pierre is illegitimate." + +"But, my dear," said Prince Vasili suddenly, clutching the little +table and becoming more animated and talking more rapidly: "what if +a letter has been written to the Emperor in which the count asks for +Pierre's legitimation? Do you understand that in consideration of +the count's services, his request would be granted?..." + +The princess smiled as people do who think they know more about +the subject under discussion than those they are talking with. + +"I can tell you more," continued Prince Vasili, seizing her hand, +"that letter was written, though it was not sent, and the Emperor knew +of it. The only question is, has it been destroyed or not? If not, +then as soon as all is over," and Prince Vasili sighed to intimate +what he meant by the words all is over, "and the count's papers are +opened, the will and letter will be delivered to the Emperor, and +the petition will certainly be granted. Pierre will get everything +as the legitimate son." + +"And our share?" asked the princess smiling ironically, as if +anything might happen, only not that. + +"But, my poor Catiche, it is as clear as daylight! He will then be +the legal heir to everything and you won't get anything. You must +know, my dear, whether the will and letter were written, and whether +they have been destroyed or not. And if they have somehow been +overlooked, you ought to know where they are, and must find them, +because..." + +"What next?" the princess interrupted, smiling sardonically and +not changing the expression of her eyes. "I am a woman, and you +think we are all stupid; but I know this: an illegitimate son cannot +inherit... un batard!"~^ she added, as if supposing that this +translation of the word would effectively prove to Prince Vasili the +invalidity of his contention. + +^~ A bastard. + +"Well, really, Catiche! Can't you understand! You are so +intelligent, how is it you don't see that if the count has written a +letter to the Emperor begging him to recognize Pierre as legitimate, +it follows that Pierre will not be Pierre but will become Count +Bezukhov, and will then inherit everything under the will? And if +the will and letter are not destroyed, then you will have nothing +but the consolation of having been dutiful et tout ce qui s'ensuit!~^ +That's certain." + +^~ And all that follows therefrom. + +"I know the will was made, but I also know that it is invalid; and +you, mon cousin, seem to consider me a perfect fool," said the +princess with the expression women assume when they suppose they are +saying something witty and stinging. + +"My dear Princess Catherine Semenovna," began Prince Vasili +impatiently, "I came here not to wrangle with you, but to talk about +your interests as with a kinswoman, a good, kind, true relation. And I +tell you for the tenth time that if the letter to the Emperor and +the will in Pierre's favor are among the count's papers, then, my dear +girl, you and your sisters are not heiresses! If you don't believe me, +then believe an expert. I have just been talking to Dmitri Onufrich" +(the family solicitor) "and he says the same." + +At this a sudden change evidently took place in the princess' ideas; +her thin lips grew white, though her eyes did not change, and her +voice when she began to speak passed through such transitions as she +herself evidently did not expect. + +"That would be a fine thing!" said she. "I never wanted anything and +I don't now." + +She pushed the little dog off her lap and smoothed her dress. + +"And this is gratitude- this is recognition for those who have +sacrificed everything for his sake!" she cried. "It's splendid! +Fine! I don't want anything, Prince." + +"Yes, but you are not the only one. There are your sisters..." +replied Prince Vasili. + +But the princess did not listen to him. + +"Yes, I knew it long ago but had forgotten. I knew that I could +expect nothing but meanness, deceit, envy, intrigue, and +ingratitude- the blackest ingratitude- in this house..." + +"Do you or do you not know where that will is?" insisted Prince +Vasili, his cheeks twitching more than ever. + +"Yes, I was a fool! I still believed in people, loved them, and +sacrificed myself. But only the base, the vile succeed! I know who has +been intriguing!" + +The princees wished to rise, but the prince held her by the hand. +She had the air of one who has suddenly lost faith in the whole +human race. She gave her companion an angry glance. + +"There is still time, my dear. You must remember, Catiche, that it +was all done casually in a moment of anger, of illness, and was +afterwards forgotten. Our duty, my dear, is to rectify his mistake, to +ease his last moments by not letting him commit this injustice, and +not to let him die feeling that he is rendering unhappy those who..." + +"Who sacrificed everything for him," chimed in the princess, who +would again have risen had not the prince still held her fast, "though +he never could appreciate it. No, mon cousin," she added with a +sigh, "I shall always remember that in this world one must expect no +reward, that in this world there is neither honor nor justice. In this +world one has to be cunning and cruel." + +"Now come, come! Be reasonable. I know your excellent heart." + +"No, I have a wicked heart." + +"I know your heart," repeated the prince. "I value your friendship +and wish you to have as good an opinion of me. Don't upset yourself, +and let us talk sensibly while there is still time, be it a day or +be it but an hour.... Tell me all you know about the will, and above +all where it is. You must know. We will take it at once and show it to +the count. He has, no doubt, forgotten it and will wish to destroy it. +You understand that my sole desire is conscientiously to carry out his +wishes; that is my only reason for being here. I came simply to help +him and you." + +"Now I see it all! I know who has been intriguing- I know!" cried +the princess. + +"That's not the point, my dear." + +"It's that protege of yours, that sweet Princess Drubetskaya, that +Anna Mikhaylovna whom I would not take for a housemaid... the +infamous, vile woman!" + +"Do not let us lose any time..." + +"Ah, don't talk to me! Last winter she wheedled herself in here +and told the count such vile, disgraceful things about us, +especially about Sophie- I can't repeat them- that it made the count +quite ill and he would not see us for a whole fortnight. I know it was +then he wrote this vile, infamous paper, but I thought the thing was +invalid." + +"We've got to it at last- why did you not tell me about it sooner?" + +"It's in the inlaid portfolio that he keeps under his pillow," +said the princess, ignoring his question. "Now I know! Yes; if I +have a sin, a great sin, it is hatred of that vile woman!" almost +shrieked the princess, now quite changed. "And what does she come +worming herself in here for? But I will give her a piece of my mind. +The time will come!" + +CHAPTER XXII + +While these conversations were going on in the reception room and +the princess' room, a carriage containing Pierre (who had been sent +for) and Anna Mikhaylovna (who found it necessary to accompany him) +was driving into the court of Count Bezukhov's house. As the wheels +rolled softly over the straw beneath the windows, Anna Mikhaylovna, +having turned with words of comfort to her companion, realized that he +was asleep in his corner and woke him up. Rousing himself, Pierre +followed Anna Mikhaylovna out of the carriage, and only then began +to think of the interview with his dying father which awaited him. +He noticed that they had not come to the front entrance but to the +back door. While he was getting down from the carriage steps two +men, who looked like tradespeople, ran hurriedly from the entrance and +hid in the shadow of the wall. Pausing for a moment, Pierre noticed +several other men of the same kind hiding in the shadow of the house +on both sides. But neither Anna Mikhaylovna nor the footman nor the +coachman, who could not help seeing these people, took any notice of +them. "It seems to be all right," Pierre concluded, and followed +Anna Mikhaylovna. She hurriedly ascended the narrow dimly lit stone +staircase, calling to Pierre, who was lagging behind, to follow. +Though he did not see why it was necessary for him to go to the +count at all, still less why he had to go by the back stairs, yet +judging by Anna Mikhaylovna's air of assurance and haste, Pierre +concluded that it was all absolutely necessary. Halfway up the +stairs they were almost knocked over by some men who, carrying +pails, came running downstairs, their boots clattering. These men +pressed close to the wall to let Pierre and Anna Mikhaylovna pass +and did not evince the least surprise at seeing them there. + +"Is this the way to the princesses' apartments?" asked Anna +Mikhaylovna of one of them. + +"Yes," replied a footman in a bold loud voice, as if anything were +now permissible; "the door to the left, ma'am." + +"Perhaps the count did not ask for me," said Pierre when he +reached the landing. "I'd better go to my own room." + +Anna Mikhaylovna paused and waited for him to come up. + +"Ah, my friend!" she said, touching his arm as she had done her +son's when speaking to him that afternoon, "believe me I suffer no +less than you do, but be a man!" + +"But really, hadn't I better go away?" he asked, looking kindly at +her over his spectacles. + +"Ah, my dear friend! Forget the wrongs that may have been done +you. Think that he is your father... perhaps in the agony of death." +She sighed. "I have loved you like a son from the first. Trust +yourself to me, Pierre. I shall not forget your interests." + +Pierre did not understand a word, but the conviction that all this +had to be grew stronger, and he meekly followed Anna Mikhaylovna who +was already opening a door. + +This door led into a back anteroom. An old man, a servant of the +princesses, sat in a corner knitting a stocking. Pierre had never been +in this part of the house and did not even know of the existence of +these rooms. Anna Mikhaylovna, addressing a maid who was hurrying past +with a decanter on a tray as "my dear" and "my sweet," asked about the +princess' health and then led Pierre along a stone passage. The +first door on the left led into the princesses' apartments. The maid +with the decanter in her haste had not closed the door (everything +in the house was done in haste at that time), and Pierre and Anna +Mikhaylovna in passing instinctively glanced into the room, where +Prince Vasili and the eldest princess were sitting close together +talking. Seeing them pass, Prince Vasili drew back with obvious +impatience, while the princess jumped up and with a gesture of +desperation slammed the door with all her might. + +This action was so unlike her usual composure and the fear +depicted on Prince Vasili's face so out of keeping with his dignity +that Pierre stopped and glanced inquiringly over his spectacles at his +guide. Anna Mikhaylovna evinced no surprise, she only smiled faintly +and sighed, as if to say that this was no more than she had expected. + +"Be a man, my friend. I will look after your interests," said she in +reply to his look, and went still faster along the passage. + +Pierre could not make out what it was all about, and still less what +"watching over his interests" meant, but he decided that all these +things had to be. From the passage they went into a large, dimly lit +room adjoining the count's reception room. It was one of those +sumptuous but cold apartments known to Pierre only from the front +approach, but even in this room there now stood an empty bath, and +water had been spilled on the carpet. They were met by a deacon with a +censer and by a servant who passed out on tiptoe without heeding them. +They went into the reception room familiar to Pierre, with two Italian +windows opening into the conservatory, with its large bust and full +length portrait of Catherine the Great. The same people were still +sitting here in almost the same positions as before, whispering to one +another. All became silent and turned to look at the pale tear-worn +Anna Mikhaylovna as she entered, and at the big stout figure of Pierre +who, hanging his head, meekly followed her. + +Anna Mikhaylovna's face expressed a consciousness that the +decisive moment had arrived. With the air of a practical Petersburg +lady she now, keeping Pierre close beside her, entered the room even +more boldly than that afternoon. She felt that as she brought with her +the person the dying man wished to see, her own admission was assured. +Casting a rapid glance at all those in the room and noticing the +count's confessor there, she glided up to him with a sort of amble, +not exactly bowing yet seeming to grow suddenly smaller, and +respectfully received the blessing first of one and then of another +priest. + +"God be thanked that you are in time," said she to one of the +priests; "all we relatives have been in such anxiety. This young man +is the count's son," she added more softly. "What a terrible moment!" + +Having said this she went up to the doctor. + +"Dear doctor," said she, "this young man is the count's son. Is +there any hope?" + +The doctor cast a rapid glance upwards and silently shrugged his +shoulders. Anna Mikhaylovna with just the same movement raised her +shoulders and eyes, almost closing the latter, sighed, and moved +away from the doctor to Pierre. To him, in a particularly respectful +and tenderly sad voice, she said: + +"Trust in His mercy!" and pointing out a small sofa for him to sit +and wait for her, she went silently toward the door that everyone +was watching and it creaked very slightly as she disappeared behind +it. + +Pierre, having made up his mind to obey his monitress implicitly, +moved toward the sofa she had indicated. As soon as Anna Mikhaylovna +had disappeared he noticed that the eyes of all in the room turned +to him with something more than curiosity and sympathy. He noticed +that they whispered to one another, casting significant looks at him +with a kind of awe and even servility. A deference such as he had +never before received was shown him. A strange lady, the one who had +been talking to the priests, rose and offered him her seat; an +aide-de-camp picked up and returned a glove Pierre had dropped; the +doctors became respectfully silent as he passed by, and moved to +make way for him. At first Pierre wished to take another seat so as +not to trouble the lady, and also to pick up the glove himself and +to pass round the doctors who were not even in his way; but all at +once he felt that this would not do, and that tonight he was a +person obliged to perform some sort of awful rite which everyone +expected of him, and that he was therefore bound to accept their +services. He took the glove in silence from the aide-de-camp, and +sat down in the lady's chair, placing his huge hands symmetrically +on his knees in the naive attitude of an Egyptian statue, and +decided in his own mind that all was as it should be, and that in +order not to lose his head and do foolish things he must not act on +his own ideas tonight, but must yield himself up entirely to the +will of those who were guiding him. + +Not two minutes had passed before Prince Vasili with head erect +majestically entered the room. He was wearing his long coat with three +stars on his breast. He seemed to have grown thinner since the +morning; his eyes seemed larger than usual when he glanced round and +noticed Pierre. He went up to him, took his hand (a thing he never +used to do), and drew it downwards as if wishing to ascertain +whether it was firmly fixed on. + +"Courage, courage, my friend! He has asked to see you. That is +well!" and he turned to go. + +But Pierre thought it necessary to ask: "How is..." and hesitated, +not knowing whether it would be proper to call the dying man "the +count," yet ashamed to call him "father." + +"He had another stroke about half an hour ago. Courage, my +friend..." + +Pierre's mind was in such a confused state that the word "stroke" +suggested to him a blow from something. He looked at Prince Vasili +in perplexity, and only later grasped that a stroke was an attack of +illness. Prince Vasili said something to Lorrain in passing and went +through the door on tiptoe. He could not walk well on tiptoe and his +whole body jerked at each step. The eldest princess followed him, +and the priests and deacons and some servants also went in at the +door. Through that door was heard a noise of things being moved about, +and at last Anna Mikhaylovna, still with the same expression, pale but +resolute in the discharge of duty, ran out and touching Pierre lightly +on the arm said: + +"The divine mercy is inexhaustible! Unction is about to be +administered. Come." + +Pierre went in at the door, stepping on the soft carpet, and noticed +that the strange lady, the aide-de-camp, and some of the servants, all +followed him in, as if there were now no further need for permission +to enter that room. + +CHAPTER XXIII + +Pierre well knew this large room divided by columns and an arch, its +walls hung round with Persian carpets. The part of the room behind the +columns, with a high silk-curtained mahogany bedstead on one side +and on the other an immense case containing icons, was brightly +illuminated with red light like a Russian church during evening +service. Under the gleaming icons stood a long invalid chair, and in +that chair on snowy-white smooth pillows, evidently freshly changed, +Pierre saw- covered to the waist by a bright green quilt- the +familiar, majestic figure of his father, Count Bezukhov, with that +gray mane of hair above his broad forehead which reminded one of a +lion, and the deep characteristically noble wrinkles of his +handsome, ruddy face. He lay just under the icons; his large thick +hands outside the quilt. Into the right hand, which was lying palm +downwards, a wax taper had been thrust between forefinger and thumb, +and an old servant, bending over from behind the chair, held it in +position. By the chair stood the priests, their long hair falling over +their magnificent glittering vestments, with lighted tapers in their +hands, slowly and solemnly conducting the service. A little behind +them stood the two younger princesses holding handkerchiefs to their +eyes, and just in front of them their eldest sister, Catiche, with a +vicious and determined look steadily fixed on the icons, as though +declaring to all that she could not answer for herself should she +glance round. Anna Mikhaylovna, with a meek, sorrowful, and +all-forgiving expression on her face, stood by the door near the +strange lady. Prince Vasili in front of the door, near the invalid +chair, a wax taper in his left hand, was leaning his left arm on the +carved back of a velvet chair he had turned round for the purpose, and +was crossing himself with his right hand, turning his eyes upward each +time he touched his forehead. His face wore a calm look of piety and +resignation to the will of God. "If you do not understand these +sentiments," he seemed to be saying, "so much the worse for you!" + +Behind him stood the aide-de-camp, the doctors, and the menservants; +the men and women had separated as in church. All were silently +crossing themselves, and the reading of the church service, the +subdued chanting of deep bass voices, and in the intervals sighs and +the shuffling of feet were the only sounds that could be heard. Anna +Mikhaylovna, with an air of importance that showed that she felt she +quite knew what she was about, went across the room to where Pierre +was standing and gave him a taper. He lit it and, distracted by +observing those around him, began crossing himself with the hand +that held the taper. + +Sophie, the rosy, laughter-loving, youngest princess with the +mole, watched him. She smiled, hid her face in her handkerchief, and +remained with it hidden for awhile; then looking up and seeing +Pierre she again began to laugh. She evidently felt unable to look +at him without laughing, but could not resist looking at him: so to be +out of temptation she slipped quietly behind one of the columns. In +the midst of the service the voices of the priests suddenly ceased, +they whispered to one another, and the old servant who was holding the +count's hand got up and said something to the ladies. Anna Mikhaylovna +stepped forward and, stooping over the dying man, beckoned to +Lorrain from behind her back. The French doctor held no taper; he +was leaning against one of the columns in a respectful attitude +implying that he, a foreigner, in spite of all differences of faith, +understood the full importance of the rite now being performed and +even approved of it. He now approached the sick man with the noiseless +step of one in full vigor of life, with his delicate white fingers +raised from the green quilt the hand that was free, and turning +sideways felt the pulse and reflected a moment. The sick man was given +something to drink, there was a stir around him, then the people +resumed their places and the service continued. During this interval +Pierre noticed that Prince Vasili left the chair on which he had +been leaning, and- with air which intimated that he knew what he was +about and if others did not understand him it was so much the worse +for them- did not go up to the dying man, but passed by him, joined +the eldest princess, and moved with her to the side of the room +where stood the high bedstead with its silken hangings. On leaving the +bed both Prince Vasili and the princess passed out by a back door, but +returned to their places one after the other before the service was +concluded. Pierre paid no more attention to this occurrence than to +the rest of what went on, having made up his mind once for all that +what he saw happening around him that evening was in some way +essential. + +The chanting of the service ceased, and the voice of the priest +was heard respectfully congratulating the dying man on having received +the sacrament. The dying man lay as lifeless and immovable as +before. Around him everyone began to stir: steps were audible and +whispers, among which Anna Mikhaylovna's was the most distinct. + +Pierre heard her say: + +"Certainly he must be moved onto the bed; here it will be +impossible..." + +The sick man was so surrounded by doctors, princesses, and +servants that Pierre could no longer see the reddish-yellow face +with its gray mane- which, though he saw other faces as well, he had +not lost sight of for a single moment during the whole service. He +judged by the cautious movements of those who crowded round the +invalid chair that they had lifted the dying man and were moving him. + +"Catch hold of my arm or you'll drop him!" he heard one of the +servants say in a frightened whisper. "Catch hold from underneath. +Here!" exclaimed different voices; and the heavy breathing of the +bearers and the shuffling of their feet grew more hurried, as if the +weight they were carrying were too much for them. + +As the bearers, among whom was Anna Mikhaylovna, passed the young +man he caught a momentary glimpse between their heads and backs of the +dying man's high, stout, uncovered chest and powerful shoulders, +raised by those who were holding him under the armpits, and of his +gray, curly, leonine head. This head, with its remarkably broad brow +and cheekbones, its handsome, sensual mouth, and its cold, majestic +expression, was not disfigured by the approach of death. It was the +same as Pierre remembered it three months before, when the count had +sent him to Petersburg. But now this head was swaying helplessly +with the uneven movements of the bearers, and the cold listless gaze +fixed itself upon nothing. + +After a few minutes' bustle beside the high bedstead, those who +had carried the sick man dispersed. Anna Mikhaylovna touched +Pierre's hand and said, "Come." Pierre went with her to the bed on +which the sick man had been laid in a stately pose in keeping with the +ceremony just completed. He lay with his head propped high on the +pillows. His hands were symmetrically placed on the green silk +quilt, the palms downward. When Pierre came up the count was gazing +straight at him, but with a look the significance of which could not +be understood by mortal man. Either this look meant nothing but that +as long as one has eyes they must look somewhere, or it meant too +much. Pierre hesitated, not knowing what to do, and glanced +inquiringly at his guide. Anna Mikhaylovna made a hurried sign with +her eyes, glancing at the sick man's hand and moving her lips as if to +send it a kiss. Pierre, carefully stretching his neck so as not to +touch the quilt, followed her suggestion and pressed his lips to the +large boned, fleshy hand. Neither the hand nor a single muscle of +the count's face stirred. Once more Pierre looked questioningly at +Anna Mikhaylovna to see what he was to do next. Anna Mikhaylovna +with her eyes indicated a chair that stood beside the bed. Pierre +obediently sat down, his eyes asking if he were doing right. Anna +Mikhaylovna nodded approvingly. Again Pierre fell into the naively +symmetrical pose of an Egyptian statue, evidently distressed that +his stout and clumsy body took up so much room and doing his utmost to +look as small as possible. He looked at the count, who still gazed +at the spot where Pierre's face had been before he sat down. Anna +Mikhaylovna indicated by her attitude her consciousness of the +pathetic importance of these last moments of meeting between the +father and son. This lasted about two minutes, which to Pierre +seemed an hour. Suddenly the broad muscles and lines of the count's +face began to twitch. The twitching increased, the handsome mouth +was drawn to one side (only now did Pierre realize how near death +his father was), and from that distorted mouth issued an indistinct, +hoarse sound. Anna Mikhaylovna looked attentively at the sick man's +eyes, trying to guess what he wanted; she pointed first to Pierre, +then to some drink, then named Prince Vasili in an inquiring +whisper, then pointed to the quilt. The eyes and face of the sick +man showed impatience. He made an effort to look at the servant who +stood constantly at the head of the bed. + +"Wants to turn on the other side," whispered the servant, and got up +to turn the count's heavy body toward the wall. + +Pierre rose to help him. + +While the count was being turned over, one of his arms fell back +helplessly and he made a fruitless effort to pull it forward. +Whether he noticed the look of terror with which Pierre regarded +that lifeless arm, or whether some other thought flitted across his +dying brain, at any rate he glanced at the refractory arm, at Pierre's +terror-stricken face, and again at the arm, and on his face a +feeble, piteous smile appeared, quite out of keeping with his +features, that seemed to deride his own helplessness. At sight of this +smile Pierre felt an unexpected quivering in his breast and a tickling +in his nose, and tears dimmed his eyes. The sick man was turned on +to his side with his face to the wall. He sighed. + +"He is dozing," said Anna Mikhaylovna, observing that one of the +princesses was coming to take her turn at watching. "Let us go." + +Pierre went out. + +CHAPTER XXIV + +There was now no one in the reception room except Prince Vasili +and the eldest princess, who were sitting under the portrait of +Catherine the Great and talking eagerly. As soon as they saw Pierre +and his companion they became silent, and Pierre thought he saw the +princess hide something as she whispered: + +"I can't bear the sight of that woman." + +"Catiche has had tea served in the small drawing room," said +Prince Vasili to Anna Mikhaylovna. "Go and take something, my poor +Anna Mikhaylovna, or you will not hold out." + +To Pierre he said nothing, merely giving his arm a sympathetic +squeeze below the shoulder. Pierre went with Anna Mikhaylovna into the +small drawing room. + +"There is nothing so refreshing after a sleepless night as a cup +of this delicious Russian tea," Lorrain was saying with an air of +restrained animation as he stood sipping tea from a delicate Chinese +handleless cup before a table on which tea and a cold supper were laid +in the small circular room. Around the table all who were at Count +Bezukhov's house that night had gathered to fortify themselves. Pierre +well remembered this small circular drawing room with its mirrors +and little tables. During balls given at the house Pierre, who did not +know how to dance, had liked sitting in this room to watch the +ladies who, as they passed through in their ball dresses with diamonds +and pearls on their bare shoulders, looked at themselves in the +brilliantly lighted mirrors which repeated their reflections several +times. Now this same room was dimly lighted by two candles. On one +small table tea things and supper dishes stood in disorder, and in the +middle of the night a motley throng of people sat there, not +merrymaking, but somberly whispering, and betraying by every word +and movement that they none of them forgot what was happening and what +was about to happen in the bedroom. Pierre did not eat anything though +he would very much have liked to. He looked inquiringly at his +monitress and saw that she was again going on tiptoe to the +reception room where they had left Prince Vasili and the eldest +princess. Pierre concluded that this also was essential, and after a +short interval followed her. Anna Mikhaylovna was standing beside +the princess, and they were both speaking in excited whispers. + +"Permit me, Princess, to know what is necessary and what is not +necessary," said the younger of the two speakers, evidently in the +same state of excitement as when she had slammed the door of her room. + +"But, my dear princess," answered Anna Mikhaylovna blandly but +impressively, blocking the way to the bedroom and preventing the other +from passing, "won't this be too much for poor Uncle at a moment +when he needs repose? Worldly conversation at a moment when his soul +is already prepared..." + +Prince Vasili was seated in an easy chair in his familiar +attitude, with one leg crossed high above the other. His cheeks, which +were so flabby that they looked heavier below, were twitching +violently; but he wore the air of a man little concerned in what the +two ladies were saying. + +"Come, my dear Anna Mikhaylovna, let Catiche do as she pleases. +You know how fond the count is of her." + +"I don't even know what is in this paper," said the younger of the +two ladies, addressing Prince Vasili and pointing to an inlaid +portfolio she held in her hand. "All I know is that his real will is +in his writing table, and this is a paper he has forgotten...." + +She tried to pass Anna Mikhaylovna, but the latter sprang so as to +bar her path. + +"I know, my dear, kind princess," said Anna Mikhaylovna, seizing the +portfolio so firmly that it was plain she would not let go easily. +"Dear princess, I beg and implore you, have some pity on him! Je +vous en conjure..." + +The princess did not reply. Their efforts in the struggle for the +portfolio were the only sounds audible, but it was evident that if the +princess did speak, her words would not be flattering to Anna +Mikhaylovna. Though the latter held on tenaciously, her voice lost +none of its honeyed firmness and softness. + +"Pierre, my dear, come here. I think he will not be out of place +in a family consultation; is it not so, Prince?" + +"Why don't you speak, cousin?" suddenly shrieked the princess so +loud that those in the drawing room heard her and were startled. +"Why do you remain silent when heaven knows who permits herself to +interfere, making a scene on the very threshold of a dying man's room? +Intriguer!" she hissed viciously, and tugged with all her might at the +portfolio. + +But Anna Mikhaylovna went forward a step or two to keep her hold +on the portfolio, and changed her grip. + +Prince Vasili rose. "Oh!" said he with reproach and surprise, +"this is absurd! Come, let go I tell you." + +The princess let go. + +"And you too!" + +But Anna Mikhaylovna did not obey him. + +"Let go, I tell you! I will take the responsibility. I myself will +go and ask him, I!... does that satisfy you?" + +"But, Prince," said Anna Mikhaylovna, "after such a solemn +sacrament, allow him a moment's peace! Here, Pierre, tell them your +opinion," said she, turning to the young man who, having come quite +close, was gazing with astonishment at the angry face of the +princess which had lost all dignity, and at the twitching cheeks of +Prince Vasili. + +"Remember that you will answer for the consequences," said Prince +Vasili severely. "You don't know what you are doing." + +"Vile woman!" shouted the princess, darting unexpectedly at Anna +Mikhaylovna and snatching the portfolio from her. + +Prince Vasili bent his head and spread out his hands. + +At this moment that terrible door, which Pierre had watched so +long and which had always opened so quietly, burst noisily open and +banged against the wall, and the second of the three sisters rushed +out wringing her hands. + +"What are you doing!" she cried vehemently. "He is dying and you +leave me alone with him!" + +Her sister dropped the portfolio. Anna Mikhaylovna, stooping, +quickly caught up the object of contention and ran into the bedroom. +The eldest princess and Prince Vasili, recovering themselves, followed +her. A few minutes later the eldest sister came out with a pale hard +face, again biting her underlip. At sight of Pierre her expression +showed an irrepressible hatred. + +"Yes, now you may be glad!" said she; "this is what you have been +waiting for." And bursting into tears she hid her face in her +handkerchief and rushed from the room. + +Prince Vasili came next. He staggered to the sofa on which Pierre +was sitting and dropped onto it, covering his face with his hand. +Pierre noticed that he was pale and that his jaw quivered and shook as +if in an ague. + +"Ah, my friend!" said he, taking Pierre by the elbow; and there +was in his voice a sincerity and weakness Pierre had never observed in +it before. "How often we sin, how much we deceive, and all for what? I +am near sixty, dear friend... I too... All will end in death, all! +Death is awful..." and he burst into tears. + +Anna Mikhaylovna came out last. She approached Pierre with slow, +quiet steps. + +"Pierre!" she said. + +Pierre gave her an inquiring look. She kissed the young man on his +forehead, wetting him with her tears. Then after a pause she said: + +"He is no more...." + +Pierre looked at her over his spectacles. + +"Come, I will go with you. Try to weep, nothing gives such relief as +tears." + +She led him into the dark drawing room and Pierre was glad no one +could see his face. Anna Mikhaylovna left him, and when she returned +he was fast asleep with his head on his arm. + +In the morning Anna Mikhaylovna said to Pierre: + +"Yes, my dear, this is a great loss for us all, not to speak of you. +But God will support you: you are young, and are now, I hope, in +command of an immense fortune. The will has not yet been opened. I +know you well enough to be sure that this will not turn your head, but +it imposes duties on you, and you must be a man." + +Pierre was silent. + +"Perhaps later on I may tell you, my dear boy, that if I had not +been there, God only knows what would have happened! You know, Uncle +promised me only the day before yesterday not to forget Boris. But +he had no time. I hope, my dear friend, you will carry out your +father's wish?" + +Pierre understood nothing of all this and coloring shyly looked in +silence at Princess Anna Mikhaylovna. After her talk with Pierre, Anna +Mikhaylovna returned to the Rostovs' and went to bed. On waking in the +morning she told the Rostovs and all her acquaintances the details +of Count Bezukhov's death. She said the count had died as she would +herself wish to die, that his end was not only touching but +edifying. As to the last meeting between father and son, it was so +touching that she could not think of it without tears, and did not +know which had behaved better during those awful moments- the father +who so remembered everything and everybody at last and last and had +spoken such pathetic words to the son, or Pierre, whom it had been +pitiful to see, so stricken was he with grief, though he tried hard to +hide it in order not to sadden his dying father. "It is painful, but +it does one good. It uplifts the soul to see such men as the old count +and his worthy son," said she. Of the behavior of the eldest +princess and Prince Vasili she spoke disapprovingly, but in whispers +and as a great secret. + +CHAPTER XXV + +At Bald Hills, Prince Nicholas Andreevich Bolkonski's estate, the +arrival of young Prince Andrew and his wife was daily expected, but +this expectation did not upset the regular routine of life in the +old prince's household. General in Chief Prince Nicholas Andreevich +(nicknamed in society, "the King of Prussia") ever since the Emperor +Paul had exiled him to his country estate had lived there continuously +with his daughter, Princess Mary, and her companion, Mademoiselle +Bourienne. Though in the new reign he was free to return to the +capitals, he still continued to live in the country, remarking that +anyone who wanted to see him could come the hundred miles from +Moscow to Bald Hills, while he himself needed no one and nothing. He +used to say that there are only two sources of human vice- idleness +and superstition, and only two virtues- activity and intelligence. +He himself undertook his daughter's education, and to develop these +two cardinal virtues in her gave her lessons in algebra and geometry +till she was twenty, and arranged her life so that her whole time +was occupied. He was himself always occupied: writing his memoirs, +solving problems in higher mathematics, turning snuffboxes on a lathe, +working in the garden, or superintending the building that was +always going on at his estate. As regularity is a prime condition +facilitating activity, regularity in his household was carried to +the highest point of exactitude. He always came to table under +precisely the same conditions, and not only at the same hour but at +the same minute. With those about him, from his daughter to his serfs, +the prince was sharp and invariably exacting, so that without being +a hardhearted man he inspired such fear and respect as few hardhearted +men would have aroused. Although he was in retirement and had now no +influence in political affairs, every high official appointed to the +province in which the prince's estate lay considered it his duty to +visit him and waited in the lofty antechamber ante chamber just as the +architect, gardener, or Princess Mary did, till the prince appeared +punctually to the appointed hour. Everyone sitting in this antechamber +experienced the same feeling of respect and even fear when the +enormously high study door opened and showed the figure of a rather +small old man, with powdered wig, small withered hands, and bushy gray +eyebrows which, when he frowned, sometimes hid the gleam of his +shrewd, youthfully glittering eyes. + +On the morning of the day that the young couple were to arrive, +Princess Mary entered the antechamber as usual at the time appointed +for the morning greeting, crossing herself with trepidation and +repeating a silent prayer. Every morning she came in like that, and +every morning prayed that the daily interview might pass off well. + +An old powdered manservant who was sitting in the antechamber rose +quietly and said in a whisper: "Please walk in." + +Through the door came the regular hum of a lathe. The princess +timidly opened the door which moved noiselessly and easily. She paused +at the entrance. The prince was working at the lathe and after +glancing round continued his work. + +The enormous study was full of things evidently in constant use. The +large table covered with books and plans, the tall glass-fronted +bookcases with keys in the locks, the high desk for writing while +standing up, on which lay an open exercise book, and the lathe with +tools laid ready to hand and shavings scattered around- all +indicated continuous, varied, and orderly activity. The motion of +the small foot shod in a Tartar boot embroidered with silver, and +the firm pressure of the lean sinewy hand, showed that the prince +still possessed the tenacious endurance and vigor of hardy old age. +After a few more turns of the lathe he removed his foot from the +pedal, wiped his chisel, dropped it into a leather pouch attached to +the lathe, and, approaching the table, summoned his daughter. He never +gave his children a blessing, so he simply held out his bristly +cheek (as yet unshaven) and, regarding her tenderly and attentively, +said severely: + +"Quite well? All right then, sit down." He took the exercise book +containing lessons in geometry written by himself and drew up a +chair with his foot. + +"For tomorrow!" said he, quickly finding the page and making a +scratch from one paragraph to another with his hard nail. + +The princess bent over the exercise book on the table. + +"Wait a bit, here's a letter for you," said the old man suddenly, +taking a letter addressed in a woman's hand from a bag hanging above +the table, onto which he threw it. + +At the sight of the letter red patches showed themselves on the +princess' face. She took it quickly and bent her head over it. + +"From Heloise?" asked the prince with a cold smile that showed his +still sound, yellowish teeth. + +"Yes, it's from Julie," replied the princess with a timid glance and +a timid smile. + +"I'll let two more letters pass, but the third I'll read," said +the prince sternly; "I'm afraid you write much nonsense. I'll read the +third!" + +"Read this if you like, Father," said the princess, blushing still +more and holding out the letter. + +"The third, I said the third!" cried the prince abruptly, pushing +the letter away, and leaning his elbows on the table he drew toward +him the exercise book containing geometrical figures. + +"Well, madam," he began, stooping over the book close to his +daughter and placing an arm on the back of the chair on which she sat, +so that she felt herself surrounded on all sides by the acrid scent of +old age and tobacco, which she had known so long. "Now, madam, these +triangles are equal; please note that the angle ABC..." + +The princess looked in a scared way at her father's eyes +glittering close to her; the red patches on her face came and went, +and it was plain that she understood nothing and was so frightened +that her fear would prevent her understanding any of her father's +further explanations, however clear they might be. Whether it was +the teacher's fault or the pupil's, this same thing happened every +day: the princess' eyes grew dim, she could not see and could not hear +anything, but was only conscious of her stern father's withered face +close to her, of his breath and the smell of him, and could think only +of how to get away quickly to her own room to make out the problem +in peace. The old man was beside himself: moved the chair on which +he was sitting noisily backward and forward, made efforts to control +himself and not become vehement, but almost always did become +vehement, scolded, and sometimes flung the exercise book away. + +The princess gave a wrong answer. + +"Well now, isn't she a fool!" shouted the prince, pushing the book +aside and turning sharply away; but rising immediately, he paced up +and down, lightly touched his daughter's hair and sat down again. + +He drew up his chair. and continued to explain. + +"This won't do, Princess; it won't do," said he, when Princess Mary, +having taken and closed the exercise book with the next day's +lesson, was about to leave: "Mathematics are most important, madam! +I don't want to have you like our silly ladies. Get used to it and +you'll like it," and he patted her cheek. "It will drive all the +nonsense out of your head." + +She turned to go, but he stopped her with a gesture and took an +uncut book from the high desk. + +"Here is some sort of Key to the Mysteries that your Heloise has +sent you. Religious! I don't interfere with anyone's belief... I +have looked at it. Take it. Well, now go. Go." + +He patted her on the shoulder and himself closed the door after her. + +Princess Mary went back to her room with the sad, scared +expression that rarely left her and which made her plain, sickly +face yet plainer. She sat down at her writing table, on which stood +miniature portraits and which was littered with books and papers. +The princess was as untidy as her father was tidy. She put down the +geometry book and eagerly broke the seal of her letter. It was from +her most intimate friend from childhood; that same Julie Karagina +who had been at the Rostovs' name-day party. + +Julie wrote in French: + +Dear and precious Friend, How terrible and frightful a thing is +separation! Though I tell myself that half my life and half my +happiness are wrapped up in you, and that in spite of the distance +separating us our hearts are united by indissoluble bonds, my heart +rebels against fate and in spite of the pleasures and distractions +around me I cannot overcome a certain secret sorrow that has been in +my heart ever since we parted. Why are we not together as we were last +summer, in your big study, on the blue sofa, the confidential sofa? +Why cannot I now, as three months ago, draw fresh moral strength +from your look, so gentle, calm, and penetrating, a look I loved so +well and seem to see before me as I write? + +Having read thus far, Princess Mary sighed and glanced into the +mirror which stood on her right. It reflected a weak, ungraceful +figure and thin face. Her eyes, always sad, now looked with particular +hopelessness at her reflection in the glass. "She flatters me," +thought the princess, turning away and continuing to read. But Julie +did not flatter her friend, the princess' eyes- large, deep and +luminous (it seemed as if at times there radiated from them shafts +of warm light)- were so beautiful that very often in spite of the +plainness of her face they gave her an attraction more powerful than +that of beauty. But the princess never saw the beautiful expression of +her own eyes- the look they had when she was not thinking of +herself. As with everyone, her face assumed a forced unnatural +expression as soon as she looked in a glass. She went on reading: + +All Moscow talks of nothing but war. One of my two brothers is +already abroad, the other is with the Guards, who are starting on +their march to the frontier. Our dear Emperor has left Petersburg +and it is thought intends to expose his precious person to the chances +of war. God grant that the Corsican monster who is destroying the +peace of Europe may be overthrown by the angel whom it has pleased the +Almighty, in His goodness, to give us as sovereign! To say nothing +of my brothers, this war has deprived me of one of the associations +nearest my heart. I mean young Nicholas Rostov, who with his +enthusiasm could not bear to remain inactive and has left the +university to join the army. I will confess to you, dear Mary, that in +spite of his extreme youth his departure for the army was a great +grief to me. This young man, of whom I spoke to you last summer, is so +noble-minded and full of that real youthfulness which one seldom finds +nowadays among our old men of twenty and, particularly, he is so frank +and has so much heart. He is so pure and poetic that my relations with +him, transient as they were, have been one of the sweetest comforts to +my poor heart, which has already suffered so much. Someday I will tell +you about our parting and all that was said then. That is still too +fresh. Ah, dear friend, you are happy not to know these poignant +joys and sorrows. You are fortunate, for the latter are generally +the stronger! I know very well that Count Nicholas is too young ever +to be more to me than a friend, but this sweet friendship, this poetic +and pure intimacy, were what my heart needed. But enough of this! +The chief news, about which all Moscow gossips, is the death of old +Count Bezukhov, and his inheritance. Fancy! The three princesses +have received very little, Prince Vasili nothing, and it is Monsieur +Pierre who has inherited all the property and has besides been +recognized as legitimate; so that he is now Count Bezukhov and +possessor of the finest fortune in Russia. It is rumored that Prince +Vasili played a very despicable part in this affair and that he +returned to Petersburg quite crestfallen. + +I confess I understand very little about all these matters of +wills and inheritance; but I do know that since this young man, whom +we all used to know as plain Monsieur Pierre, has become Count +Bezukhov and the owner of one of the largest fortunes in Russia, I +am much amused to watch the change in the tone and manners of the +mammas burdened by marriageable daughters, and of the young ladies +themselves, toward him, though, between you and me, he always seemed +to me a poor sort of fellow. As for the past two years people have +amused themselves by finding husbands for me (most of whom I don't +even know), the matchmaking chronicles of Moscow now speak of me as +the future Countess Bezukhova. But you will understand that I have +no desire for the post. A propos of marriages: do you know that a +while ago that universal auntie Anna Mikhaylovna told me, under the +seal of strict secrecy, of a plan of marriage for you. It is neither +more nor less than with Prince Vasili's son Anatole, whom they wish to +reform by marrying him to someone rich and distinguee, and it is on +you that his relations' choice has fallen. I don't know what you +will think of it, but I consider it my duty to let you know of it. +He is said to be very handsome and a terrible scapegrace. That is +all I have been able to find out about him. + +But enough of gossip. I am at the end of my second sheet of paper, +and Mamma has sent for me to go and dine at the Apraksins'. Read the +mystical book I am sending you; it has an enormous success here. +Though there are things in it difficult for the feeble human mind to +grasp, it is an admirable book which calms and elevates the soul. +Adieu! Give my respects to monsieur your father and my compliments +to Mademoiselle Bourienne. I embrace you as I love you. + +JULIE + +P.S. Let me have news of your brother and his charming little wife. + +The princess pondered awhile with a thoughtful smile and her +luminous eyes lit up so that her face was entirely transformed. Then +she suddenly rose and with her heavy tread went up to the table. She +took a sheet of paper and her hand moved rapidly over it. This is +the reply she wrote, also in French: + +Dear and precious Friend, Your letter of the 13th has given me great +delight. So you still love me, my romantic Julie? Separation, of which +you say so much that is bad, does not seem to have had its usual +effect on you. You complain of our separation. What then should I say, +if I dared complain, I who am deprived of all who are dear to me? +Ah, if we had not religion to console us life would be very sad. Why +do you suppose that I should look severely on your affection for +that young man? On such matters I am only severe with myself. I +understand such feelings in others, and if never having felt them I +cannot approve of them, neither do I condemn them. Only it seems to me +that Christian love, love of one's neighbor, love of one's enemy, is +worthier, sweeter, and better than the feelings which the beautiful +eyes of a young man can inspire in a romantic and loving young girl +like yourself. + +The news of Count Bezukhov's death reached us before your letter and +my father was much affected by it. He says the count was the last +representative but one of the great century, and that it is his own +turn now, but that he will do all he can to let his turn come as +late as possible. God preserve us from that terrible misfortune! + +I cannot agree with you about Pierre, whom I knew as a child. He +always seemed to me to have an excellent heart, and that is the +quality I value most in people. As to his inheritance and the part +played by Prince Vasili, it is very sad for both. Ah, my dear +friend, our divine Saviour's words, that it is easier for a camel to +go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the +Kingdom of God, are terribly true. I pity Prince Vasili but am still +more sorry for Pierre. So young, and burdened with such riches- to +what temptations he will be exposed! If I were asked what I desire +most on earth, it would be to be poorer than the poorest beggar. A +thousand thanks, dear friend, for the volume you have sent me and +which has such success in Moscow. Yet since you tell me that among +some good things it contains others which our weak human understanding +cannot grasp, it seems to me rather useless to spend time in reading +what is unintelligible and can therefore bear no fruit. I never +could understand the fondness some people have for confusing their +minds by dwelling on mystical books that merely awaken their doubts +and excite their imagination, giving them a bent for exaggeration +quite contrary to Christian simplicity. Let us rather read the +Epistles and Gospels. Let us not seek to penetrate what mysteries they +contain; for how can we, miserable sinners that we are, know the +terrible and holy secrets of Providence while we remain in this +flesh which forms an impenetrable veil between us and the Eternal? Let +us rather confine ourselves to studying those sublime rules which +our divine Saviour has left for our guidance here below. Let us try to +conform to them and follow them, and let us be persuaded that the less +we let our feeble human minds roam, the better we shall please God, +who rejects all knowledge that does not come from Him; and the less we +seek to fathom what He has been pleased to conceal from us, the sooner +will He vouchsafe its revelation to us through His divine Spirit. + +My father has not spoken to me of a suitor, but has only told me +that he has received a letter and is expecting a visit from Prince +Vasili. In regard to this project of marriage for me, I will tell you, +dear sweet friend, that I look on marriage as a divine institution +to which we must conform. However painful it may be to me, should +the Almighty lay the duties of wife and wife and mother upon me I +shall try to perform them as faithfully as I can, without +disquieting myself by examining my feelings toward him whom He may +give me for husband. + +I have had a letter from my brother, who announces his speedy +arrival at Bald Hills with his wife. This pleasure will be but a brief +one, however, for he will leave, us again to take part in this unhappy +war into which we have been drawn, God knows how or why. Not only +where you are- at the heart of affairs and of the world- is the talk +all of war, even here amid fieldwork and the calm of nature- which +townsfolk consider characteristic of the country- rumors of war are +heard and painfully felt. My father talks of nothing but marches and +countermarches, things of which I understand nothing; and the day +before yesterday during my daily walk through the village I +witnessed a heartrending scene.... It was a convoy of conscripts +enrolled from our people and starting to join the army. You should +have seen the state of the mothers, wives, and children of the men who +were going and should have heard the sobs. It seems as though +mankind has forgotten the laws of its divine Saviour, Who preached +love and forgiveness of injuries- and that men attribute the +greatest merit to skill in killing one another. + +Adieu, dear and kind friend; may our divine Saviour and His most +Holy Mother keep you in their holy and all-powerful care! + +MARY + +"Ah, you are sending off a letter, Princess? I have already +dispatched mine. I have written to my poor mother," said the smiling +Mademoiselle Bourienne rapidly, in her pleasant mellow tones and +with guttural r's. She brought into Princess Mary's strenuous, +mournful, and gloomy world a quite different atmosphere, careless, +lighthearted, and self-satisfied. + +"Princess, I must warn you," she added, lowering her voice and +evidently listening to herself with pleasure, and speaking with +exaggerated grasseyement, "the prince has been scolding Michael +Ivanovich. He is in a very bad humor, very morose. Be prepared." + +"Ah, dear friend," replied Princess Mary, "I have asked you never to +warn me of the humor my father is in. I do not allow myself to judge +him and would not have others do so." + +The princess glanced at her watch and, seeing that she was five +minutes late in starting her practice on the clavichord, went into the +sitting room with a look of alarm. Between twelve and two o'clock, +as the day was mapped out, the prince rested and the princess played +the clavichord. + +CHAPTER XXVI + +The gray-haired valet was sitting drowsily listening to the +snoring of the prince, who was in his large study. From the far side +of the house through the closed doors came the sound of difficult +passages- twenty times repeated- of a sonata by Dussek. + +Just then a closed carriage and another with a hood drove up to +the porch. Prince Andrew got out of the carriage, helped his little +wife to alight, and let her pass into the house before him. Old +Tikhon, wearing a wig, put his head out of the door of the +antechamber, reported in a whisper that the prince was sleeping, and +hastily closed the door. Tikhon knew that neither the son's arrival +nor any other unusual event must be allowed to disturb the appointed +order of the day. Prince Andrew apparently knew this as well as +Tikhon; he looked at his watch as if to ascertain whether his father's +habits had changed since he was at home last, and, having assured +himself that they had not, he turned to his wife. + +"He will get up in twenty minutes. Let us go across to Mary's room," +he said. + +The little princess had grown stouter during this time, but her eyes +and her short, downy, smiling lip lifted when she began to speak +just as merrily and prettily as ever. + +"Why, this is a palace!" she said to her husband, looking around +with the expression with which people compliment their host at a ball. +"Let's come, quick, quick!" And with a glance round, she smiled at +Tikhon, at her husband, and at the footman who accompanied them. + +"Is that Mary practicing? Let's go quietly and take her by +surprise." + +Prince Andrew followed her with a courteous but sad expression. + +"You've grown older, Tikhon," he said in passing to the old man, who +kissed his hand. + +Before they reached the room from which the sounds of the clavichord +came, the pretty, fair haired Frenchwoman, Mademoiselle Bourienne, +rushed out apparently beside herself with delight. + +"Ah! what joy for the princess!" exclaimed she: "At last! I must let +her know." + +"No, no, please not... You are Mademoiselle Bourienne," said the +little princess, kissing her. "I know you already through my +sister-in-law's friendship for you. She was not expecting us?" + +They went up to the door of the sitting room from which came the +sound of the oft-repeated passage of the sonata. Prince Andrew stopped +and made a grimace, as if expecting something unpleasant. + +The little princess entered the room. The passage broke off in the +middle, a cry was heard, then Princess Mary's heavy tread and the +sound of kissing. When Prince Andrew went in the two princesses, who +had only met once before for a short time at his wedding, were in each +other's arms warmly pressing their lips to whatever place they +happened to touch. Mademoiselle Bourienne stood near them pressing her +hand to her heart, with a beatific smile and obviously equally ready +to cry or to laugh. Prince Andrew shrugged his shoulders and +frowned, as lovers of music do when they hear a false note. The two +women let go of one another, and then, as if afraid of being too late, +seized each other's hands, kissing them and pulling them away, and +again began kissing each other on the face, and then to Prince +Andrew's surprise both began to cry and kissed again. Mademoiselle +Bourienne also began to cry. Prince Andrew evidently felt ill at ease, +but to the two women it seemed quite natural that they should cry, and +apparently it never entered their heads that it could have been +otherwise at this meeting. + +"Ah! my dear!... Ah! Mary!" they suddenly exclaimed, and then +laughed. "I dreamed last night..."- "You were not expecting us?..."- +"Ah! Mary, you have got thinner?..." "And you have grown stouter!..." + +"I knew the princess at once," put in Mademoiselle Bourienne. + +"And I had no idea!..." exclaimed Princess Mary. "Ah, Andrew, I +did not see you." + +Prince Andrew and his sister, hand in hand, kissed one another, +and he told her she was still the same crybaby as ever. Princess +Mary had turned toward her brother, and through her tears the +loving, warm, gentle look of her large luminous eyes, very beautiful +at that moment, rested on Prince Andrew's face. + +The little princess talked incessantly, her short, downy upper lip +continually and rapidly touching her rosy nether lip when necessary +and drawing up again next moment when her face broke into a smile of +glittering teeth and sparkling eyes. She told of an accident they +had had on the Spasski Hill which might have been serious for her in +her condition, and immediately after that informed them that she had +left all her clothes in Petersburg and that heaven knew what she would +have to dress in here; and that Andrew had quite changed, and that +Kitty Odyntsova had married an old man, and that there was a suitor +for Mary, a real one, but that they would talk of that later. Princess +Mary was still looking silently at her brother and her beautiful +eyes were full of love and sadness. It was plain that she was +following a train of thought independent of her sister-in-law's words. +In the midst of a description of the last Petersburg fete she +addressed her brother: + +"So you are really going to the war, Andrew?" she said sighing. + +Lise sighed too. + +"Yes, and even tomorrow," replied her brother. + +"He is leaving me here, God knows why, when he might have had +promotion..." + +Princess Mary did not listen to the end, but continuing her train of +thought turned to her sister-in-law with a tender glance at her +figure. + +"Is it certain?" she said. + +The face of the little princess changed. She sighed and said: +"Yes, quite certain. Ah! it is very dreadful..." + +Her lip descended. She brought her face close to her sister-in-law's +and unexpectedly again began to cry. + +"She needs rest," said Prince Andrew with a frown. "Don't you, Lise? +Take her to your room and I'll go to Father. How is he? Just the +same?" + +"Yes, just the same. Though I don't know what your opinion will be," +answered the princess joyfully. + +"And are the hours the same? And the walks in the avenues? And the +lathe?" asked Prince Andrew with a scarcely perceptible smile which +showed that, in spite of all his love and respect for his father, he +was aware of his weaknesses. + +"The hours are the same, and the lathe, and also the mathematics and +my geometry lessons," said Princess Mary gleefully, as if her +lessons in geometry were among the greatest delights of her life. + +When the twenty minutes had elapsed and the time had come for the +old prince to get up, Tikhon came to call the young prince to his +father. The old man made a departure from his usual routine in honor +of his son's arrival: he gave orders to admit him to his apartments +while he dressed for dinner. The old prince always dressed in +old-fashioned style, wearing an antique coat and powdered hair; and +when Prince Andrew entered his father's dressing room (not with the +contemptuous look and manner he wore in drawing rooms, but with the +animated face with which he talked to Pierre), the old man was sitting +on a large leather-covered chair, wrapped in a powdering mantle, +entrusting his head to Tikhon. + +"Ah! here's the warrior! Wants to vanquish Buonaparte?" said the old +man, shaking his powdered head as much as the tail, which Tikhon was +holding fast to plait, would allow. + +"You at least must tackle him properly, or else if he goes on like +this he'll soon have us, too, for his subjects! How are you?" And he +held out his cheek. + +The old man was in a good temper after his nap before dinner. (He +used to say that a nap "after dinner was silver- before dinner, +golden.") He cast happy, sidelong glances at his son from under his +thick, bushy eyebrows. Prince Andrew went up and kissed his father +on the spot indicated to him. He made no reply on his father's +favorite topic- making fun of the military men of the day, and more +particularly of Bonaparte. + +"Yes, Father, I have come come to you and brought my wife who is +pregnant," said Prince Andrew, following every movement of his +father's face with an eager and respectful look. "How is your health?" + +"Only fools and rakes fall ill, my boy. You know me: I am busy +from morning till night and abstemious, so of course I am well." + +"Thank God," said his son smiling. + +"God has nothing to do with it! Well, go on," he continued, +returning to his hobby; "tell me how the Germans have taught you to +fight Bonaparte by this new science you call 'strategy.'" + +Prince Andrew smiled. + +"Give me time to collect my wits, Father," said he, with a smile +that showed that his father's foibles did not prevent his son from +loving and honoring him. "Why, I have not yet had time to settle +down!" + +"Nonsense, nonsense!" cried the old man, shaking his pigtail to +see whether it was firmly plaited, and grasping his by the hand. +"The house for your wife is ready. Princess Mary will take her there +and show her over, and they'll talk nineteen to the dozen. That's +their woman's way! I am glad to have her. Sit down and talk. About +Mikhelson's army I understand- Tolstoy's too... a simultaneous +expedition.... But what's the southern army to do? Prussia is +neutral... I know that. What about Austria?" said he, rising from +his chair and pacing up and down the room followed by Tikhon, who +ran after him, handing him different articles of clothing. "What of +Sweden? How will they cross Pomerania?" + +Prince Andrew, seeing that his father insisted, began- at first +reluctantly, but gradually with more and more animation, and from +habit changing unconsciously from Russian to French as he went on- +to explain the plan of operation for the coming campaign. He explained +how an army, ninety thousand strong, was to threaten Prussia so as +to bring her out of her neutrality and draw her into the war; how part +of that army was to join some Swedish forces at Stralsund; how two +hundred and twenty thousand Austrians, with a hundred thousand +Russians, were to operate in Italy and on the Rhine; how fifty + +thousand Russians and as many English were to land at Naples, and +how a total force of five hundred thousand men was to attack the +French from different sides. The old prince did not evince the least +interest during this explanation, but as if he were not listening to +it continued to dress while walking about, and three times +unexpectedly interrupted. Once he stopped it by shouting: "The white +one, the white one!" + +This meant that Tikhon was not handing him the waistcoat he +wanted. Another time he interrupted, saying: + +"And will she soon be confined?" and shaking his head +reproachfully said: "That's bad! Go on, go on." + +The third interruption came when Prince Andrew was finishing his +description. The old man began to sing, in the cracked voice of old +age: "Malbrook s'en va-t-en guerre. Dieu sait quand reviendra."~^ + +^~ "Marlborough is going to the wars; God knows when he'll return." + +His son only smiled. + +"I don't say it's a plan I approve of," said the son; "I am only +telling you what it is. Napoleon has also formed his plan by now, +not worse than this one." + +"Well, you've told me nothing new," and the old man repeated, +meditatively and rapidly: + +"Dieu sait quand reviendra. Go to the dining room." + +CHAPTER XXVII + +At the appointed hour the prince, powdered and shaven, entered the +dining room where his daughter-in-law, Princess Mary, and Mademoiselle +Bourienne were already awaiting him together with his architect, who +by a strange caprice of his employer's was admitted to table though +the position of that insignificant individual was such as could +certainly not have caused him to expect that honor. The prince, who +generally kept very strictly to social distinctions and rarely +admitted even important government officials to his table, had +unexpectedly selected Michael Ivanovich (who always went into a corner +to blow his nose on his checked handkerchief) to illustrate the theory +that all men are equals, and had more than once impressed on his +daughter that Michael Ivanovich was "not a whit worse than you or +I." At dinner the prince usually spoke to the taciturn Michael +Ivanovich more often than to anyone else. + +In the dining room, which like all the rooms in the house was +exceedingly lofty, the members of the household and the footmen- one +behind each chair- stood waiting for the prince to enter. The head +butler, napkin on arm, was scanning the setting of the table, making +signs to the footmen, and anxiously glancing from the clock to the +door by which the prince was to enter. Prince Andrew was looking at +a large gilt frame, new to him, containing the genealogical tree of +the Princes Bolkonski, opposite which hung another such frame with a +badly painted portrait (evidently by the hand of the artist +belonging to the estate) of a ruling prince, in a crown- an alleged +descendant of Rurik and ancestor of the Bolkonskis. Prince Andrew, +looking again at that genealogical tree, shook his head, laughing as a +man laughs who looks at a portrait so characteristic of the original +as to be amusing. + +"How thoroughly like him that is!" he said to Princess Mary, who had +come up to him. + +Princess Mary looked at her brother in surprise. She did not +understand what he was laughing at. Everything her father did inspired +her with reverence and was beyond question. + +"Everyone has his Achilles' heel," continued Prince Andrew. +"Fancy, with his powerful mind, indulging in such nonsense!" + +Princess Mary could not understand the boldness of her brother's +criticism and was about to reply, when the expected footsteps were +heard coming from the study. The prince walked in quickly and jauntily +as was his wont, as if intentionally contrasting the briskness of +his manners with the strict formality of his house. At that moment the +great clock struck two and another with a shrill tone joined in from +the drawing room. The prince stood still; his lively glittering eyes +from under their thick, bushy eyebrows sternly scanned all present and +rested on the little princess. She felt, as courtiers do when the Tsar +enters, the sensation of fear and respect which the old man inspired +in all around him. He stroked her hair and then patted her awkwardly +on the back of her neck. + +"I'm glad, glad, to see you," he said, looking attentively into +her eyes, and then quickly went to his place and sat down. "Sit +down, sit down! Sit down, Michael Ianovich!" + +He indicated a place beside him to his daughter-in-law. A footman +moved the chair for her. + +"Ho, ho!" said the old man, casting his eyes on her rounded +figure. "You've been in a hurry. That's bad!" + +He laughed in his usual dry, cold, unpleasant way, with his lips +only and not with his eyes. + +"You must walk, walk as much as possible, as much as possible," he +said. + +The little princess did not, or did not wish to, hear his words. She +was silent and seemed confused. The prince asked her about her father, +and she began to smile and talk. He asked about mutual +acquaintances, and she became still more animated and chattered away +giving him greetings from various people and retailing the town +gossip. + +"Countess Apraksina, poor thing, has lost her husband and she has +cried her eyes out," she said, growing more and more lively. + +As she became animated the prince looked at her more and more +sternly, and suddenly, as if he had studied her sufficiently and had +formed a definite idea of her, he turned away and addressed Michael +Ivanovich. + +"Well, Michael Ivanovich, our Bonaparte will be having a bad time of +it. Prince Andrew" (he always spoke thus of his son) "has been telling +me what forces are being collected against him! While you and I +never thought much of him." + +Michael Ivanovich did not at all know when "you and I" had said such +things about Bonaparte, but understanding that he was wanted as a +peg on which to hang the prince's favorite topic, he looked +inquiringly at the young prince, wondering what would follow. + +"He is a great tactician!" said the prince to his son, pointing to +the architect. + +And the conversation again turned on the war, on Bonaparte, and +the generals and statesmen of the day. The old prince seemed convinced +not only that all the men of the day were mere babies who did not know +the A B C of war or of politics, and that Bonaparte was an +insignificant little Frenchy, successful only because there were no +longer any Potemkins or Suvorovs left to oppose him; but he was also +convinced that there were no political difficulties in Europe and no +real war, but only a sort of puppet show at which the men of the day +were playing, pretending to do something real. Prince Andrew gaily +bore with his father's ridicule of the new men, and drew him on and +listened to him with evident pleasure. + +"The past always seems good," said he, "but did not Suvorov +himself fall into a trap Moreau set him, and from which he did not +know how to escape?" + +"Who told you that? Who?" cried the prince. "Suvorov!" And he jerked +away his plate, which Tikhon briskly caught. "Suvorov!... Consider, +Prince Andrew. Two... Frederick and Suvorov; Moreau!... Moreau would +have been a prisoner if Suvorov had had a free hand; but he had the +Hofs-kriegs-wurst-schnapps-Rath on his hands. It would have puzzled +the devil himself! When you get there you'll find out what those +Hofs-kriegs-wurst-Raths are! Suvorov couldn't manage them so what +chance has Michael Kutuzov? No, my dear boy," he continued, "you and +your generals won't get on against Buonaparte; you'll have to call +in the French, so that birds of a feather may fight together. The +German, Pahlen, has been sent to New York in America, to fetch the +Frenchman, Moreau," he said, alluding to the invitation made that year +to Moreau to enter the Russian service.... "Wonderful!... Were the +Potemkins, Suvorovs, and Orlovs Germans? No, lad, either you fellows +have all lost your wits, or I have outlived mine. May God help you, +but we'll see what will happen. Buonaparte has become a great +commander among them! Hm!..." + +"I don't at all say that all the plans are good," said Prince +Andrew, "I am only surprised at your opinion of Bonaparte. You may +laugh as much as you like, but all the same Bonaparte is a great +generall" + +"Michael Ivanovich!" cried the old prince to the architect who, busy +with his roast meat, hoped he had been forgotten: "Didn't I tell you +Buonaparte was a great tactician? Here, he says same thing." + +"To be sure, your excellency." replied the architect. + +The prince again laughed his frigid laugh. + +"Buonaparte was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He has got +splendid soldiers. Besides he began by attacking Germans. And only +idlers have failed to beat the Germans. Since the world began +everybody has beaten the Germans. They beat no one- except one +another. He made his reputation fighting them." + +And the prince began explaining all the blunders which, according to +him, Bonaparte had made in his campaigns and even in politics. His son +made no rejoinder, but it was evident that whatever arguments were +presented he was as little able as his father to change his opinion. +He listened, refraining from a reply, and involuntarily wondered how +this old man, living alone in the country for so many years, could +know and discuss so minutely and acutely all the recent European +military and political events. + +"You think I'm an old man and don't understand the present state +of affairs?" concluded his father. "But it troubles me. I don't +sleep at night. Come now, where has this great commander of yours +shown his skill?" he concluded. + +"That would take too long to tell," answered the son. + +"Well, then go to your Buonaparte! Mademoiselle Bourienne, here's +another admirer of that powder-monkey emperor of yours," he +exclaimed in excellent French. + +"You know, Prince, I am not a Bonapartist!" + +"Dieu sait quand reviendra"... hummed the prince out of tune and, +with a laugh still more so, he quitted the table. + +The little princess during the whole discussion and the rest of +the dinner sat silent, glancing with a frightened look now at her +father-in-law and now at Princess Mary. When they left the table she +took her sister-in-law's arm and drew her into another room. + +"What a clever man your father is," said she; "perhaps that is why I +am afraid of him." + +"Oh, he is so kind!" answered Princess Mary. + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +Prince Andrew was to leave next evening. The old prince, not +altering his routine, retired as usual after dinner. The little +princess was in her sister-in-law's room. Prince Andrew in a traveling +coat without epaulettes had been packing with his valet in the rooms +assigned to him. After inspecting the carriage himself and seeing +the trunks put in, he ordered the horses to be harnessed. Only those +things he always kept with him remained in his room; a small box, a +large canteen fitted with silver plate, two Turkish pistols and a +saber- a present from his father who had brought it from the siege +of Ochakov. All these traveling effects of Prince Andrew's were in +very good order: new, clean, and in cloth covers carefully tied with +tapes. + +When starting on a journey or changing their mode of life, men +capable of reflection are generally in a serious frame of mind. At +such moments one reviews the past and plans for the future. Prince +Andrew's face looked very thoughtful and tender. With his hands behind +him he paced briskly from corner to corner of the room, looking +straight before him and thoughtfully shaking his head. Did he fear +going to the war, or was he sad at leaving his wife?- perhaps both, +but evidently he did not wish to be seen in that mood, for hearing +footsteps in the passage he hurriedly unclasped his hands, stopped +at a table as if tying the cover of the small box, and assumed his +usual tranquil and impenetrable expression. It was the heavy tread +of Princess Mary that he heard. + +"I hear you have given orders to harness," she cried, panting (she +had apparently been running), "and I did so wish to have another +talk with you alone! God knows how long we may again be parted. You +are not angry with me for coming? You have changed so, Andrusha," +she added, as if to explain such a question. + +She smiled as she uttered his pet name, "Andrusha." It was obviously +strange to her to think that this stern handsome man should be +Andrusha- the slender mischievous boy who had been her playfellow in +childhood. + +"And where is Lise?" he asked, answering her question only by a +smile. + +"She was so tired that she has fallen asleep on the sofa in my room. +Oh, Andrew! What a treasure of a wife you have," said she, sitting +down on the sofa, facing her brother. "She is quite a child: such a +dear, merry child. I have grown so fond of her." + +Prince Andrew was silent, but the princess noticed the ironical +and contemptuous look that showed itself on his face. + +"One must be indulgent to little weaknesses; who is free from +them, Andrew? Don't forget that she has grown up and been educated +in society, and so her position now is not a rosy one. We should enter +into everyone's situation. Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner.~^ +Think it must be for her, poor thing, after what she has been used to, +to be parted from her husband and be left alone the country, in her +condition! It's very hard." + +^~ To understand all is to forgive all. + +Prince Andrew smiled as he looked at his sister, as we smile at +those we think we thoroughly understand. + +"You live in the country and don't think the life terrible," he +replied. + +"I... that's different. Why speak of me? I don't want any other +life, and can't, for I know no other. But think, Andrew: for a young +society woman to be buried in the country during the best years of her +life, all alone- for Papa is always busy, and I... well, you know what +poor resources I have for entertaining a woman used to the best +society. There is only Mademoiselle Bourienne...." + +"I don't like your Mademoiselle Bourienne at all," said Prince +Andrew. + +"No? She is very nice and kind and, above all, she's much to be +pitied. She has no one, no one. To tell the truth, I don't need her, +and she's even in my way. You know I always was a savage, and now am +even more so. I like being alone.... Father likes her very much. She +and Michael Ivanovich are the two people to whom he is always gentle +and kind, because he has been a benefactor to them both. As Sterne +says: 'We don't love people so much for the good they have done us, as +for the good we have done them.' Father took her when she was homeless +after losing her own father. She is very good-natured, and my father +likes her way of reading. She reads to him in the evenings and reads +splendidly." + +"To be quite frank, Mary, I expect Father's character sometimes +makes things trying for you, doesn't it?" Prince Andrew asked +suddenly. + +Princess Mary was first surprised and then aghast at this question. + +"For me? For me?... Trying for me!..." said she. + +"He always was rather harsh; and now I should think he's getting +very trying," said Prince Andrew, apparently speaking lightly of their +father in order to puzzle or test his sister. + +"You are good in every way, Andrew, but you have a kind of +intellectual pride," said the princess, following the train of her own +thoughts rather than the trend of the conversation- "and that's a +great sin. How can one judge Father? But even if one might, what +feeling except veneration could such a man as my father evoke? And I +am so contented and happy with him. I only wish you were all as +happy as I am." + +Her brother shook his head incredulously. + +"The only thing that is hard for me... I will tell you the truth, +Andrew... is Father's way of treating religious subjects. I don't +understand how a man of his immense intellect can fail to see what +is as clear as day, and can go so far astray. That is the only thing +that makes me unhappy. But even in this I can see lately a shade of +improvement. His satire has been less bitter of late, and there was +a monk he received and had a long talk with." + +"Ah! my dear, I am afraid you and your monk are wasting your +powder," said Prince Andrew banteringly yet tenderly. + +"Ah! mon ami, I only pray, and hope that God will hear me. +Andrew..." she said timidly after a moment's silence, "I have a +great favor to ask of you." + +"What is it, dear?" + +"No- promise that you will not refuse! It will give you no trouble +and is nothing unworthy of you, but it will comfort me. Promise, +Andrusha!..." said she, putting her hand in her reticule but not yet +taking out what she was holding inside it, as if what she held were +the subject of her request and must not be shown before the request +was granted. + +She looked timidly at her brother. + +"Even if it were a great deal of trouble..." answered Prince Andrew, +as if guessing what it was about. + +"Think what you please! I know you are just like Father. Think as +you please, but do this for my sake! Please do! Father's father, our +grandfather, wore it in all his wars." (She still did not take out +what she was holding in her reticule.) "So you promise?" + +"Of course. What is it?" + +"Andrew, I bless you with this icon and you must promise me you will +never take it off. Do you promise?" + +"If it does not weigh a hundredweight and won't break my neck... +To please you..." said Prince Andrew. But immediately, noticing the +pained expression his joke had brought to his sister's face, he +repented and added: "I am glad; really, dear, I am very glad." + +"Against your will He will save and have mercy on you and bring +you to Himself, for in Him alone is truth and peace," said she in a +voice trembling with emotion, solemnly holding up in both hands before +her brother a small, oval, antique, dark-faced icon of the Saviour +in a gold setting, on a finely wrought silver chain. + +She crossed herself, kissed the icon, and handed it to Andrew. + +"Please, Andrew, for my sake!..." + +Rays of gentle light shone from her large, timid eyes. Those eyes +lit up the whole of her thin, sickly face and made it beautiful. Her +brother would have taken the icon, but she stopped him. Andrew +understood, crossed himself and kissed the icon. There was a look of +tenderness, for he was touched, but also a gleam of irony on his face. + +"Thank you, my dear." She kissed him on the forehead and sat down +again on the sofa. They were silent for a while. + +"As I was saying to you, Andrew, be kind and generous as you +always used to be. Don't judge Lise harshly," she began. "She is so +sweet, so good-natured, and her position now is a very hard one." + +"I do not think I have complained of my wife to you, Masha, or +blamed her. Why do you say all this to me?" + +Red patches appeared on Princess Mary's face and she was silent as +if she felt guilty. + +"I have said nothing to you, but you have already been talked to. +And I am sorry for that," he went on. + +The patches grew deeper on her forehead, neck, and cheeks. She tried +to say something but could not. Her brother had guessed right: the +little princess had been crying after dinner and had spoken of her +forebodings about her confinement, and how she dreaded it, and had +complained of her fate, her father-in-law, and her husband. After +crying she had fallen asleep. Prince Andrew felt sorry for his sister. + +"Know this, Masha: I can't reproach, have not reproached, and +never shall reproach my wife with anything, and I cannot reproach +myself with anything in regard to her; and that always will be so in +whatever circumstances I may be placed. But if you want to know the +truth... if you want to know whether I am happy? No! Is she happy? No! +But why this is so I don't know..." + +As he said this he rose, went to his sister, and, stooping, kissed +her forehead. His fine eyes lit up with a thoughtful, kindly, and +unaccustomed brightness, but he was looking not at his sister but over +her head toward the darkness of the open doorway. + +"Let us go to her, I must say good-by. Or- go and wake and I'll come +in a moment. Petrushka!" he called to his valet: "Come here, take +these away. Put this on the seat and this to the right." + +Princess Mary rose and moved to the door, then stopped and said: +"Andrew, if you had faith you would have turned to God and asked Him +to give you the love you do not feel, and your prayer would have +been answered." + +"Well, may be!" said Prince Andrew. "Go, Masha; I'll come +immediately." + +On the way to his sister's room, in the passage which connected +one wing with the other, Prince Andrew met Mademoiselle Bourienne +smiling sweetly. It was the third time that day that, with an ecstatic +and artless smile, she had met him in secluded passages. + +"Oh! I thought you were in your room," she said, for some reason +blushing and dropping her eyes. + +Prince Andrew looked sternly at her and an expression of anger +suddenly came over his face. He said nothing to her but looked at +her forehead and hair, without looking at her eyes, with such contempt +that the Frenchwoman blushed and went away without a word. When he +reached his sister's room his wife was already awake and her merry +voice, hurrying one word after another, came through the open door. +She was speaking as usual in French, and as if after long +self-restraint she wished to make up for lost time. + +"No, but imagine the old Countess Zubova, with false curls and her +mouth full of false teeth, as if she were trying to cheat old +age.... Ha, ha, ha! Mary!" + +This very sentence about Countess Zubova and this same laugh +Prince Andrew had already heard from his wife in the presence of +others some five times. He entered the room softly. The little +princess, plump and rosy, was sitting in an easy chair with her work +in her hands, talking incessantly, repeating Petersburg +reminiscences and even phrases. Prince Andrew came up, stroked her +hair, and asked if she felt rested after their journey. She answered +him and continued her chatter. + +The coach with six horses was waiting at the porch. It was an autumn +night, so dark that the coachman could not see the carriage pole. +Servants with lanterns were bustling about in the porch. The immense +house was brilliant with lights shining through its lofty windows. The +domestic serfs were crowding in the hall, waiting to bid good-by to +the young prince. The members of the household were all gathered in +the reception hall: Michael Ivanovich, Mademoiselle Bourienne, +Princess Mary, and the little princess. Prince Andrew had been +called to his father's study as the latter wished to say good-by to +him alone. All were waiting for them to come out. + +When Prince Andrew entered the study the old man in his old-age +spectacles and white dressing gown, in which he received no one but +his son, sat at the table writing. He glanced round. + +"Going?" And he went on writing. + +"I've come to say good-by." + +"Kiss me here," and he touched his cheek: "Thanks, thanks!" + +"What do you thank me for?" + +"For not dilly-dallying and not hanging to a woman's apron +strings. The Service before everything. Thanks, thanks!" And he went +on writing, so that his quill spluttered and squeaked. "If you have +anything to say, say it. These two things can be done together," he +added. + +"About my wife... I am ashamed as it is to leave her on your +hands..." + +"Why talk nonsense? Say what you want." + +"When her confinement is due, send to Moscow for an accoucheur.... +Let him be here...." + +The old prince stopped writing and, as if not understanding, fixed +his stern eyes on his son. + +"I know that no one can help if nature does not do her work," said +Prince Andrew, evidently confused. "I know that out of a million cases +only one goes wrong, but it is her fancy and mine. They have been +telling her things. She has had a dream and is frightened." + +"Hm... Hm..." muttered the old prince to himself, finishing what +he was writing. "I'll do it." + +He signed with a flourish and suddenly turning to his son began to +laugh. + +"It's a bad business, eh?" + +"What is bad, Father?" + +"The wife!" said the old prince, briefly and significantly. + +"I don't understand!" said Prince Andrew. + +"No, it can't be helped, lad," said the prince. "They're all like +that; one can't unmarry. Don't be afraid; I won't tell anyone, but you +know it yourself." + +He seized his son by the hand with small bony fingers, shook it, +looked straight into his son's face with keen eyes which seemed to see +through him, and again laughed his frigid laugh. + +The son sighed, thus admitting that his father had understood him. +The old man continued to fold and seal his letter, snatching up and +throwing down the wax, the seal, and the paper, with his accustomed +rapidity. + +"What's to be done? She's pretty! I will do everything. Make your +mind easy," said he in abrupt sentences while sealing his letter. + +Andrew did not speak; he was both pleased and displeased that his +father understood him. The old man got up and gave the letter to his +son. + +"Listen!" said he; "don't worry about your wife: what can be done +shall be. Now listen! Give this letter to Michael Ilarionovich.~^ I +have written that he should make use of you in proper places and not +keep you long as an adjutant: a bad position! Tell him I remember +and like him. Write and tell me how he receives you. If he is all +right- serve him. Nicholas Bolkonski's son need not serve under anyone +if he is in disfavor. Now come here." + +^~ Kutuzov. + +He spoke so rapidly that he did not finish half his words, but his +son was accustomed to understand him. He led him to the desk, raised +the lid, drew out a drawer, and took out an exercise book filled +with his bold, tall, close handwriting. + +"I shall probably die before you. So remember, these are my memoirs; +hand them to the Emperor after my death. Now here is a Lombard bond +and a letter; it is a premium for the man who writes a history of +Suvorov's wars. Send it to the Academy. Here are some jottings for you +to read when I am gone. You will find them useful." + +Andrew did not tell his father that he would no doubt live a long +time yet. He felt that he must not say it. + +"I will do it all, Father," he said. + +"Well, now, good-by!" He gave his son his hand to kiss, and embraced +him. "Remember this, Prince Andrew, if they kill you it will hurt +me, your old father..." he paused unexpectedly, and then in a +querulous voice suddenly shrieked: "but if I hear that you have not +behaved like a son of Nicholas Bolkonski, I shall be ashamed!" + +"You need not have said that to me, Father," said the son with a +smile. + +The old man was silent. + +"I also wanted to ask you," continued Prince Andrew, "if I'm +killed and if I have a son, do not let him be taken away from you- +as I said yesterday... let him grow up with you.... Please." + +"Not let the wife have him?" said the old man, and laughed. + +They stood silent, facing one another. The old man's sharp eyes were +fixed straight on his son's. Something twitched in the lower part of +the old prince's face. + +"We've said good-by. Go!" he suddenly shouted in a loud, angry +voice, opening his door. + +"What is it? What?" asked both princesses when they saw for a moment +at the door Prince Andrew and the figure of the old man in a white +dressing gown, spectacled and wigless, shouting in an angry voice. + +Prince Andrew sighed and made no reply. + +"Well!" he said, turning to his wife. + +And this "Well!" sounded coldly ironic, as if he were saying,: +"Now go through your performance." + +"Andrew, already!" said the little princess, turning pale and +looking with dismay at her husband. + +He embraced her. She screamed and fell unconscious on his shoulder. + +He cautiously released the shoulder she leaned on, looked into her +face, and carefully placed her in an easy chair. + +"Adieu, Mary," said he gently to his sister, taking her by the +hand and kissing her, and then he left the room with rapid steps. + +The little princess lay in the armchair, Mademoiselle Bourienne +chafing her temples. Princess Mary, supporting her sister-in-law, +still looked with her beautiful eyes full of tears at the door through +which Prince Andrew had gone and made the sign of the cross in his +direction. From the study, like pistol shots, came the frequent +sound of the old man angrily blowing his nose. Hardly had Prince +Andrew gone when the study door opened quickly and the stern figure of +the old man in the white dressing gown looked out. + +"Gone? That's all right!" said he; and looking angrily at the +unconscious little princess, he shook his head reprovingly and slammed +the door. + +BOOK TWO: 1805 + +CHAPTER I + +In October, 1805, a Russian army was occupying the villages and +towns of the Archduchy of Austria, and yet other regiments freshly +arriving from Russia were settling near the fortress of Braunau and +burdening the inhabitants on whom they were quartered. Braunau was the +headquarters of the commander-in-chief, Kutuzov. + +On October 11, 1805, one of the infantry regiments that had just +reached Braunau had halted half a mile from the town, waiting to be +inspected by the commander in chief. Despite the un-Russian appearance +of the locality and surroundings- fruit gardens, stone fences, tiled +roofs, and hills in the distance- and despite the fact that the +inhabitants (who gazed with curiosity at the soldiers) were not +Russians, the regiment had just the appearance of any Russian regiment +preparing for an inspection anywhere in the heart of Russia. + +On the evening of the last day's march an order had been received +that the commander in chief would inspect the regiment on the march. +Though the words of the order were not clear to the regimental +commander, and the question arose whether the troops were to be in +marching order or not, it was decided at a consultation between the +battalion commanders to present the regiment in parade order, on the +principle that it is always better to "bow too low than not bow low +enough." So the soldiers, after a twenty-mile march, were kept mending +and cleaning all night long without closing their eyes, while the +adjutants and company commanders calculated and reckoned, and by +morning the regiment- instead of the straggling, disorderly crowd it +had been on its last march the day before- presented a well-ordered +array of two thousand men each of whom knew his place and his duty, +had every button and every strap in place, and shone with cleanliness. +And not only externally was all in order, but had it pleased the +commander in chief to look under the uniforms he would have found on +every man a clean shirt, and in every knapsack the appointed number of +articles, "awl, soap, and all," as the soldiers say. There was only +one circumstance concerning which no one could be at ease. It was +the state of the soldiers' boots. More than half the men's boots +were in holes. But this defect was not due to any fault of the +regimental commander, for in spite of repeated demands boots had not +been issued by the Austrian commissariat, and the regiment had marched +some seven hundred miles. + +The commander of the regiment was an elderly, choleric, stout, and +thick-set general with grizzled eyebrows and whiskers, and wider +from chest to back than across the shoulders. He had on a brand-new +uniform showing the creases where it had been folded and thick gold +epaulettes which seemed to stand rather than lie down on his massive +shoulders. He had the air of a man happily performing one of the +most solemn duties of his life. He walked about in front of the line +and at every step pulled himself up, slightly arching his back. It was +plain that the commander admired his regiment, rejoiced in it, and +that his whole mind was engrossed by it, yet his strut seemed to +indicate that, besides military matters, social interests and the fair +sex occupied no small part of his thoughts. + +"Well, Michael Mitrich, sir?" he said, addressing one of the +battalion commanders who smilingly pressed forward (it was plain +that they both felt happy). "We had our hands full last night. +However, I think the regiment is not a bad one, eh?" + +The battalion commander perceived the jovial irony and laughed. + +"It would not be turned off the field even on the Tsaritsin Meadow." + +"What?" asked the commander. + +At that moment, on the road from the town on which signalers had +been posted, two men appeared on horse back. They were an +aide-decamp followed by a Cossack. + +The aide-de-camp was sent to confirm the order which had not been +clearly worded the day before, namely, that the commander in chief +wished to see the regiment just in the state in which it had been on +the march: in their greatcoats, and packs, and without any preparation +whatever. + +A member of the Hofkriegsrath from Vienna had come to Kutuzov the +day before with proposals and demands for him to join up with the army +of the Archduke Ferdinand and Mack, and Kutuzov, not considering +this junction advisable, meant, among other arguments in support of +his view, to show the Austrian general the wretched state in which the +troops arrived from Russia. With this object he intended to meet the +regiment; so the worse the condition it was in, the better pleased the +commander in chief would be. Though the aide-de-camp did not know +these circumstances, he nevertheless delivered the definite order that +the men should be in their greatcoats and in marching order, and +that the commander in chief would otherwise be dissatisfied. On +hearing this the regimental commander hung his head, silently shrugged +his shoulders, and spread out his arms with a choleric gesture. + +"A fine mess we've made of it!" he remarked. + +"There now! Didn't I tell you, Michael Mitrich, that if it was +said 'on the march' it meant in greatcoats?" said he reproachfully +to the battalion commander. "Oh, my God!" he added, stepping +resolutely forward. "Company commanders!" he shouted in a voice +accustomed to command. "Sergeants major!... How soon will he be here?" +he asked the aide-de-camp with a respectful politeness evidently +relating to the personage he was referring to. + +"In an hour's time, I should say." + +"Shall we have time to change clothes?" + +"I don't know, General...." + +The regimental commander, going up to the line himself, ordered +the soldiers to change into their greatcoats. The company commanders +ran off to their companies, the sergeants major began bustling (the +greatcoats were not in very good condition), and instantly the squares +that had up to then been in regular order and silent began to sway and +stretch and hum with voices. On all sides soldiers were running to and +fro, throwing up their knapsacks with a jerk of their shoulders and +pulling the straps over their heads, unstrapping their overcoats and +drawing the sleeves on with upraised arms. + +In half an hour all was again in order, only the squares had +become gray instead of black. The regimental commander walked with his +jerky steps to the front of the regiment and examined it from a +distance. + +"Whatever is this? This!" he shouted and stood still. "Commander +of the third company!" + +"Commander of the third company wanted by the general!... +commander to the general... third company to the commander." The words +passed along the lines and an adjutant ran to look for the missing +officer. + +When the eager but misrepeated words had reached their destination +in a cry of: "The general to the third company," the missing officer +appeared from behind his company and, though he was a middle-aged +man and not in the habit of running, trotted awkwardly stumbling on +his toes toward the general. The captain's face showed the +uneasiness of a schoolboy who is told to repeat a lesson he has not +learned. Spots appeared on his nose, the redness of which was +evidently due to intemperance, and his mouth twitched nervously. The +general looked the captain up and down as he came up panting, +slackening his pace as he approached. + +"You will soon be dressing your men in petticoats! What is this?" +shouted the regimental commander, thrusting forward his jaw and +pointing at a soldier in the ranks of the third company in a greatcoat +of bluish cloth, which contrasted with the others. "What have you been +after? The commander in chief is expected and you leave your place? +Eh? I'll teach you to dress the men in fancy coats for a parade.... +Eh...?" + +The commander of the company, with his eyes fixed on his superior, +pressed two fingers more and more rigidly to his cap, as if in this +pressure lay his only hope of salvation. + +"Well, why don't you speak? Whom have you got there dressed up as +a Hungarian?" said the commander with an austere gibe. + +"Your excellency..." + +"Well, your excellency, what? Your excellency! But what about your +excellency?... nobody knows." + +"Your excellency, it's the officer Dolokhov, who has been reduced to +the ranks," said the captain softly. + +"Well? Has he been degraded into a field marshal, or into a soldier? +If a soldier, he should be dressed in regulation uniform like the +others." + +"Your excellency, you gave him leave yourself, on the march." + +"Gave him leave? Leave? That's just like you young men," said the +regimental commander cooling down a little. "Leave indeed.... One says +a word to you and you... What?" he added with renewed irritation, "I +beg you to dress your men decently." + +And the commander, turning to look at the adjutant, directed his +jerky steps down the line. He was evidently pleased at his own display +of anger and walking up to the regiment wished to find a further +excuse for wrath. Having snapped at an officer for an unpolished +badge, at another because his line was not straight, he reached the +third company. + +"H-o-o-w are you standing? Where's your leg? Your leg?" shouted +the commander with a tone of suffering in his voice, while there +were still five men between him and Dolokhov with his bluish-gray +uniform. + +Dolokhov slowly straightened his bent knee, looking straight with +his clear, insolent eyes in the general's face. + +"Why a blue coat? Off with it... Sergeant major! Change his +coat... the ras..." he did not finish. + +"General, I must obey orders, but I am not bound to endure..." +Dolokhov hurriedly interrupted. + +"No talking in the ranks!... No talking, no talking!" + +"Not bound to endure insults," Dolokhov concluded in loud, ringing +tones. + +The eyes of the general and the soldier met. The general became +silent, angrily pulling down his tight scarf. + +"I request you to have the goodness to change your coat," he said as +he turned away. + +CHAPTER II + +"He's coming!" shouted the signaler at that moment. + +The regimental commander, flushing, ran to his horse, seized the +stirrup with trembling hands, threw his body across the saddle, +righted himself, drew his saber, and with a happy and resolute +countenance, opening his mouth awry, prepared to shout. The regiment +fluttered like a bird preening its plumage and became motionless. + +"Att-ention!" shouted the regimental commander in a soul-shaking +voice which expressed joy for himself, severity for the regiment, +and welcome for the approaching chief. + +Along the broad country road, edged on both sides by trees, came a +high, light blue Viennese caleche, slightly creaking on its springs +and drawn by six horses at a smart trot. Behind the caleche galloped +the suite and a convoy of Croats. Beside Kutuzov sat an Austrian +general, in a white uniform that looked strange among the Russian +black ones. The caleche stopped in front of the regiment. Kutuzov +and the Austrian general were talking in low voices and Kutuzov smiled +slightly as treading heavily he stepped down from the carriage just as +if those two thousand men breathlessly gazing at him and the +regimental commander did not exist. + +The word of command rang out, and again the regiment quivered, as +with a jingling sound it presented arms. Then amidst a dead silence +the feeble voice of the commander in chief was heard. The regiment +roared, "Health to your ex... len... len... lency!" and again all +became silent. At first Kutuzov stood still while the regiment +moved; then he and the general in white, accompanied by the suite, +walked between the ranks. + +From the way the regimental commander saluted the commander in chief +and devoured him with his eyes, drawing himself up obsequiously, and +from the way he walked through the ranks behind the generals, +bending forward and hardly able to restrain his jerky movements, and +from the way he darted forward at every word or gesture of the +commander in chief, it was evident that he performed his duty as a +subordinate with even greater zeal than his duty as a commander. +Thanks to the strictness and assiduity of its commander the +regiment, in comparison with others that had reached Braunau at the +same time, was in splendid condition. There were only 217 sick and +stragglers. Everything was in good order except the boots. + +Kutuzov walked through the ranks, sometimes stopping to say a few +friendly words to officers he had known in the Turkish war, +sometimes also to the soldiers. Looking at their boots he several +times shook his head sadly, pointing them out to the Austrian +general with an expression which seemed to say that he was not blaming +anyone, but could not help noticing what a bad state of things it was. +The regimental commander ran forward on each such occasion, fearing to +miss a single word of the commander in chief's regarding the regiment. +Behind Kutuzov, at a distance that allowed every softly spoken word to +be heard, followed some twenty men of his suite. These gentlemen +talked among themselves and sometimes laughed. Nearest of all to the +commander in chief walked a handsome adjutant. This was Prince +Bolkonski. Beside him was his comrade Nesvitski, a tall staff officer, +extremely stout, with a kindly, smiling, handsome face and moist eyes. +Nesvitski could hardly keep from laughter provoked by a swarthy hussar +officer who walked beside him. This hussar, with a grave face and +without a smile or a change in the expression of his fixed eyes, +watched the regimental commander's back and mimicked his every +movement. Each time the commander started and bent forward, the hussar +started and bent forward in exactly the same manner. Nesvitski laughed +and nudged the others to make them look at the wag. + +Kutuzov walked slowly and languidly past thousands of eyes which +were starting from their sockets to watch their chief. On reaching the +third company he suddenly stopped. His suite, not having expected +this, involuntarily came closer to him. + +"Ah, Timokhin!" said he, recognizing the red-nosed captain who had +been reprimanded on account of the blue greatcoat. + +One would have thought it impossible for a man to stretch himself +more than Timokhin had done when he was reprimanded by the +regimental commander, but now that the commander in chief addressed +him he drew himself up to such an extent that it seemed he could not +have sustained it had the commander in chief continued to look at him, +and so Kutuzov, who evidently understood his case and wished him +nothing but good, quickly turned away, a scarcely perceptible smile +flitting over his scarred and puffy face. + +"Another Ismail comrade," said he. "A brave officer! Are you +satisfied with him?" he asked the regimental commander. + +And the latter- unconscious that he was being reflected in the +hussar officer as in a looking glass- started, moved forward, and +answered: "Highly satisfied, your excellency!" + +"We all have our weaknesses," said Kutuzov smiling and walking +away from him. "He used to have a predilection for Bacchus." + +The regimental commander was afraid he might be blamed for this +and did not answer. The hussar at that moment noticed the face of +the red-nosed captain and his drawn-in stomach, and mimicked his +expression and pose with such exactitude that Nesvitski could not help +laughing. Kutuzov turned round. The officer evidently had complete +control of his face, and while Kutuzov was turning managed to make a +grimace and then assume a most serious, deferential, and innocent +expression. + +The third company was the last, and Kutuzov pondered, apparently +trying to recollect something. Prince Andrew stepped forward from +among the suite and said in French: + +"You told me to remind you of the officer Dolokhov, reduced to the +ranks in this regiment." + +"Where is Dolokhov?" asked Kutuzov. + +Dolokhov, who had already changed into a soldier's gray greatcoat, +did not wait to be called. The shapely figure of the fair-haired +soldier, with his clear blue eyes, stepped forward from the ranks, +went up to the commander in chief, and presented arms. + +"Have you a complaint to make?" Kutuzov asked with a slight frown. + +"This is Dolokhov," said Prince Andrew. + +"Ah!" said Kutuzov. "I hope this will be a lesson to you. Do your +duty. The Emperor is gracious, and I shan't forget you if you +deserve well." + +The clear blue eyes looked at the commander in chief just as +boldly as they had looked at the regimental commander, seeming by +their expression to tear open the veil of convention that separates +a commander in chief so widely from a private. + +"One thing I ask of your excellency," Dolokhov said in his firm, +ringing, deliberate voice. "I ask an opportunity to atone for my fault +and prove my devotion to His Majesty the Emperor and to Russia!" + +Kutuzov turned away. The same smile of the eyes with which he had +turned from Captain Timokhin again flitted over his face. He turned +away with a grimace as if to say that everything Dolokhov had said +to him and everything he could say had long been known to him, that he +was weary of it and it was not at all what he wanted. He turned away +and went to the carriage. + +The regiment broke up into companies, which went to their +appointed quarters near Braunau, where they hoped to receive boots and +clothes and to rest after their hard marches. + +"You won't bear me a grudge, Prokhor Ignatych?" said the +regimental commander, overtaking the third company on its way to its + +quarters and riding up to Captain Timokhin who was walking in front. +(The regimental commander's face now that the inspection was happily +over beamed with irrepressible delight.) "It's in the Emperor's +service... it can't be helped... one is sometimes a bit hasty on +parade... I am the first to apologize, you know me!... He was very +pleased!" And he held out his hand to the captain. + +"Don't mention it, General, as if I'd be so bold!" replied the +captain, his nose growing redder as he gave a smile which showed where +two front teeth were missing that had been knocked out by the butt end +of a gun at Ismail. + +"And tell Mr. Dolokhov that I won't forget him- he may be quite +easy. And tell me, please- I've been meaning to ask- how is to ask- +how is he behaving himself, and in general..." + +"As far as the service goes he is quite punctilious, your +excellency; but his character..." said Timokhin. + +"And what about his character?" asked the regimental commander. + +"It's different on different days," answered the captain. "One day +he is sensible, well educated, and good-natured, and the next he's a +wild beast.... In Poland, if you please, he nearly killed a Jew." + +"Oh, well, well!" remarked the regimental commander. "Still, one +must have pity on a young man in misfortune. You know he has important +connections... Well, then, you just..." + +"I will, your excellency," said Timokhin, showing by his smile +that he understood his commander's wish. + +"Well, of course, of course!" + +The regimental commander sought out Dolokhov in the ranks and, +reining in his horse, said to him: + +"After the next affair... epaulettes." + +Dolokhov looked round but did not say anything, nor did the +mocking smile on his lips change. + +"Well, that's all right," continued the regimental commander. "A cup +of vodka for the men from me," he added so that the soldiers could +hear. "I thank you all! God be praised!" and he rode past that company +and overtook the next one. + +"Well, he's really a good fellow, one can serve under him," said +Timokhin to the subaltern beside him. + +"In a word, a hearty one..." said the subaltern, laughing (the +regimental commander was nicknamed King of Hearts). + +The cheerful mood of their officers after the inspection infected +the soldiers. The company marched on gaily. The soldiers' voices could +be heard on every side. + +"And they said Kutuzov was blind of one eye?" + +"And so he is! Quite blind!" + +"No, friend, he is sharper-eyed than you are. Boots and leg bands... +he noticed everything..." + +"When he looked at my feet, friend... well, thinks I..." + +"And that other one with him, the Austrian, looked as if he were +smeared with chalk- as white as flour! I suppose they polish him up as +they do the guns." + +"I say, Fedeshon!... Did he say when the battles are to begin? You +were near him. Everybody said that Buonaparte himself was at Braunau." + +"Buonaparte himself!... Just listen to the fool, what he doesn't +know! The Prussians are up in arms now. The Austrians, you see, are +putting them down. When they've been put down, the war with Buonaparte +will begin. And he says Buonaparte is in Braunau! Shows you're a fool. +You'd better listen more carefully!" + +"What devils these quartermasters are! See, the fifth company is +turning into the village already... they will have their buckwheat +cooked before we reach our quarters." + +"Give me a biscuit, you devil!" + +"And did you give me tobacco yesterday? That's just it, friend! +Ah, well, never mind, here you are." + +"They might call a halt here or we'll have to do another four +miles without eating." + +"Wasn't it fine when those Germans gave us lifts! You just sit still +and are drawn along." + +"And here, friend, the people are quite beggarly. There they all +seemed to be Poles- all under the Russian crown- but here they're +all regular Germans." + +"Singers to the front " came the captain's order. + +And from the different ranks some twenty men ran to the front. A +drummer, their leader, turned round facing the singers, and +flourishing his arm, began a long-drawn-out soldiers' song, commencing +with the words: "Morning dawned, the sun was rising," and +concluding: "On then, brothers, on to glory, led by Father +Kamenski." This song had been composed in the Turkish campaign and now +being sung in Austria, the only change being that the words "Father +Kamenski" were replaced by "Father Kutuzov." + +Having jerked out these last words as soldiers do and waved his arms +as if flinging something to the ground, the drummer- a lean, +handsome soldier of forty- looked sternly at the singers and screwed +up his eyes. Then having satisfied himself that all eyes were fixed on +him, he raised both arms as if carefully lifting some invisible but +precious object above his head and, holding it there for some seconds, +suddenly flung it down and began: + +"Oh, my bower, oh, my bower...!" + +"Oh, my bower new...!" chimed in twenty voices, and the castanet +player, in spite of the burden of his equipment, rushed out to the +front and, walking backwards before the company, jerked his +shoulders and flourished his castanets as if threatening someone. +The soldiers, swinging their arms and keeping time spontaneously, +marched with long steps. Behind the company the sound of wheels, the +creaking of springs, and the tramp of horses' hoofs were heard. +Kutuzov and his suite were returning to the town. The commander in +chief made a sign that the men should continue to march at ease, and +he and all his suite showed pleasure at the sound of the singing and +the sight of the dancing soldier and the gay and smartly marching men. +In the second file from the right flank, beside which the carriage +passed the company, a blue-eyed soldier involuntarily attracted +notice. It was Dolokhov marching with particular grace and boldness in +time to the song and looking at those driving past as if he pitied all +who were not at that moment marching with the company. The hussar +cornet of Kutuzov's suite who had mimicked the regimental commander, +fell back from the carriage and rode up to Dolokhov. + +Hussar cornet Zherkov had at one time, in Petersburg, belonged to +the wild set led by Dolokhov. Zherkov had met Dolokhov abroad as a +private and had not seen fit to recognize him. But now that Kutuzov +had spoken to the gentleman ranker, he addressed him with the +cordiality of an old friend. + +"My dear fellow, how are you?" said he through the singing, making +his horse keep pace with the company. + +"How am I?" Dolokhov answered coldly. "I am as you see." + +The lively song gave a special flavor to the tone of free and easy +gaiety with which Zherkov spoke, and to the intentional coldness of +Dolokhov's reply. + +"And how do you get on with the officers?" inquired Zherkov. + +"All right. They are good fellows. And how have you wriggled onto +the staff?" + +"I was attached; I'm on duty." + +Both were silent. + +"She let the hawk fly upward from her wide right sleeve," went the +song, arousing an involuntary sensation of courage and cheerfulness. +Their conversation would probably have been different but for the +effect of that song. + +"Is it true that Austrians have been beaten?" asked Dolokhov. + +"The devil only knows! They say so." + +"I'm glad," answered Dolokhov briefly and clearly, as the song +demanded. + +"I say, come round some evening and we'll have a game of faro!" said +Zherkov. + +"Why, have you too much money?" + +"Do come." + +"I can't. I've sworn not to. I won't drink and won't play till I get +reinstated." + +"Well, that's only till the first engagement." + +"We shall see." + +They were again silent. + +"Come if you need anything. One can at least be of use on the +staff..." + +Dolokhov smiled. "Don't trouble. If I want anything, I won't beg- +I'll take it!" + +"Well, never mind; I only..." + +"And I only..." + +"Good-by." + +"Good health..." + +_1 "It's a long, long way.<br> +To my native land..." + +Zherkov touched his horse with the spurs; it pranced excitedly +from foot to foot uncertain with which to start, then settled down, +galloped past the company, and overtook the carriage, still keeping +time to the song. + +CHAPTER III + +On returning from the review, Kutuzov took the Austrian general into +his private room and, calling his adjutant, asked for some papers +relating to the condition of the troops on their arrival, and the +letters that had come from the Archduke Ferdinand, who was in +command of the advanced army. Prince Andrew Bolkonski came into the +room with the required papers. Kutuzov and the Austrian member of +the Hofkriegsrath were sitting at the table on which a plan was spread +out. + +"Ah!..." said Kutuzov glancing at Bolkonski as if by this +exclamation he was asking the adjutant to wait, and he went on with +the conversation in French. + +"All I can say, General," said he with a pleasant elegance of +expression and intonation that obliged one to listen to each +deliberately spoken word. It was evident that Kutuzov himself listened +with pleasure to his own voice. "All I can say, General, is that if +the matter depended on my personal wishes, the will of His Majesty the +Emperor Francis would have been fulfilled long ago. I should long +ago have joined the archduke. And believe me on my honour that to me +personally it would be a pleasure to hand over the supreme command +of the army into the hands of a better informed and more skillful +general- of whom Austria has so many- and to lay down all this heavy +responsibility. But circumstances are sometimes too strong for us, +General." + +And Kutuzov smiled in a way that seemed to say, "You are quite at +liberty not to believe me and I don't even care whether you do or not, +but you have no grounds for telling me so. And that is the whole +point." + +The Austrian general looked dissatisfied, but had no option but to +reply in the same tone. + +"On the contrary," he said, in a querulous and angry tone that +contrasted with his flattering words, "on the contrary, your +excellency's participation in the common action is highly valued by +His Majesty; but we think the present delay is depriving the +splendid Russian troops and their commander of the laurels they have +been accustomed to win in their battles," he concluded his evidently +prearranged sentence. + +Kutuzov bowed with the same smile. + +"But that is my conviction, and judging by the last letter with +which His Highness the Archduke Ferdinand has honored me, I imagine +that the Austrian troops, under the direction of so skillful a +leader as General Mack, have by now already gained a decisive +victory and no longer need our aid," said Kutuzov. + +The general frowned. Though there was no definite news of an +Austrian defeat, there were many circumstances confirming the +unfavorable rumors that were afloat, and so Kutuzov's suggestion of an +Austrian victory sounded much like irony. But Kutuzov went on +blandly smiling with the same expression, which seemed to say that +he had a right to suppose so. And, in fact, the last letter he had +received from Mack's army informed him of a victory and stated +strategically the position of the army was very favorable. + +"Give me that letter," said Kutuzov turning to Prince Andrew. +"Please have a look at it"- and Kutuzov with an ironical smile about +the corners of his mouth read to the Austrian general the following +passage, in German, from the Archduke Ferdinand's letter: + +We have fully concentrated forces of nearly seventy thousand men +with which to attack and defeat the enemy should he cross the Lech. +Also, as we are masters of Ulm, we cannot be deprived of the advantage +of commanding both sides of the Danube, so that should the enemy not +cross the Lech, we can cross the Danube, throw ourselves on his line +of communications, recross the river lower down, and frustrate his +intention should he try to direct his whole force against our faithful +ally. We shall therefore confidently await the moment when the +Imperial Russian army will be fully equipped, and shall then, in +conjunction with it, easily find a way to prepare for the enemy the +fate he deserves. + +Kutuzov sighed deeply on finishing this paragraph and looked at +the member of the Hofkriegsrath mildly and attentively. + +"But you know the wise maxim your excellency, advising one to expect +the worst," said the Austrian general, evidently wishing to have +done with jests and to come to business. He involuntarily looked round +at the aide-de-camp. + +"Excuse me, General," interrupted Kutuzov, also turning to Prince +Andrew. "Look here, my dear fellow, get from Kozlovski all the reports +from our scouts. Here are two letters from Count Nostitz and here is +one from His Highness the Archduke Ferdinand and here are these," he +said, handing him several papers, "make a neat memorandum in French +out of all this, showing all the news we have had of the movements +of the Austrian army, and then give it to his excellency." + +Prince Andrew bowed his head in token of having understood from +the first not only what had been said but also what Kutuzov would have +liked to tell him. He gathered up the papers and with a bow to both, +stepped softly over the carpet and went out into the waiting room. + +Though not much time had passed since Prince Andrew had left Russia, +he had changed greatly during that period. In the expression of his +face, in his movements, in his walk, scarcely a trace was left of +his former affected languor and indolence. He now looked like a man +who has time to think of the impression he makes on others, but is +occupied with agreeable and interesting work. His face expressed +more satisfaction with himself and those around him, his smile and +glance were brighter and more attractive. + +Kutuzov, whom he had overtaken in Poland, had received him very +kindly, promised not to forget him, distinguished him above the +other adjutants, and had taken him to Vienna and given him the more +serious commissions. From Vienna Kutuzov wrote to his old comrade, +Prince Andrew's father. + +Your son bids fair to become an officer distinguished by his +industry, firmness, and expedition. I consider myself fortunate to +have such a subordinate by me. + +On Kutuzov's staff, among his fellow officers and in the army +generally, Prince Andrew had, as he had had in Petersburg society, two +quite opposite reputations. Some, a minority, acknowledged him to be +different from themselves and from everyone else, expected great +things of him, listened to him, admired, and imitated him, and with +them Prince Andrew was natural and pleasant. Others, the majority, +disliked him and considered him conceited, cold, and disagreeable. But +among these people Prince Andrew knew how to take his stand so that +they respected and even feared him. + +Coming out of Kutuzov's room into the waiting room with the papers +in his hand Prince Andrew came up to his comrade, the aide-de-camp +on duty, Kozlovski, who was sitting at the window with a book. + +"Well, Prince?" asked Kozlovski. + +"I am ordered to write a memorandum explaining why we are not +advancing." + +"And why is it?" + +Prince Andrew shrugged his shoulders. + +"Any news from Mack?" + +"No." + +"If it were true that he has been beaten, news would have come." + +"Probably," said Prince Andrew moving toward the outer door. + +But at that instant a tall Austrian general in a greatcoat, with the +order of Maria Theresa on his neck and a black bandage round his head, +who had evidently just arrived, entered quickly, slamming the door. +Prince Andrew stopped short. + +"Commander in Chief Kutuzov?" said the newly arrived general +speaking quickly with a harsh German accent, looking to both sides and +advancing straight toward the inner door. + +"The commander in chief is engaged," said Kozlovski, going hurriedly +up to the unknown general and blocking his way to the door. "Whom +shall I announce?" + +The unknown general looked disdainfully down at Kozlovski, who was +rather short, as if surprised that anyone should not know him. + +"The commander in chief is engaged," repeated Kozlovski calmly. + +The general's face clouded, his lips quivered and trembled. He +took out a notebook, hurriedly scribbled something in pencil, tore out +the leaf, gave it to Kozlovski, stepped quickly to the window, and +threw himself into a chair, gazing at those in the room as if +asking, "Why do they look at me?" Then he lifted his head, stretched +his neck as if he intended to say something, but immediately, with +affected indifference, began to hum to himself, producing a queer +sound which immediately broke off. The door of the private room opened +and Kutuzov appeared in the doorway. The general with the bandaged +head bent forward as though running away from some danger, and, making +long, quick strides with his thin legs, went up to Kutuzov. + +"Vous voyez le malheureux Mack," he uttered in a broken voice. + +Kutuzov's face as he stood in the open doorway remained perfectly +immobile for a few moments. Then wrinkles ran over his face like a +wave and his forehead became smooth again, he bowed his head +respectfully, closed his eyes, silently let Mack enter his room before +him, and closed the door himself behind him. + +The report which had been circulated that the Austrians had been +beaten and that the whole army had surrendered at Ulm proved to be +correct. Within half an hour adjutants had been sent in various +directions with orders which showed that the Russian troops, who had +hitherto been inactive, would also soon have to meet the enemy. + +Prince Andrew was one of those rare staff officers whose chief +interest lay in the general progress of the war. When he saw Mack +and heard the details of his disaster he understood that half the +campaign was lost, understood all the difficulties of the Russian +army's position, and vividly imagined what awaited it and the part +he would have to play. Involuntarily he felt a joyful agitation at the +thought of the humiliation of arrogant Austria and that in a week's +time he might, perhaps, see and take part in the first Russian +encounter with the French since Suvorov met them. He feared that +Bonaparte's genius might outweigh all the courage of the Russian +troops, and at the same time could not admit the idea of his hero +being disgraced. + +Excited and irritated by these thoughts Prince Andrew went toward +his room to write to his father, to whom he wrote every day. In the +corridor he met Nesvitski, with whom he shared a room, and the wag +Zherkov; they were as usual laughing. + +"Why are you so glum?" asked Nesvitski noticing Prince Andrew's pale +face and glittering eyes. + +"There's nothing to be gay about," answered Bolkonski. + +Just as Prince Andrew met Nesvitski and Zherkov, there came toward +them from the other end of the corridor, Strauch, an Austrian +general who on Kutuzov's staff in charge of the provisioning of the +Russian army, and the member of the Hofkriegsrath who had arrived +the previous evening. There was room enough in the wide corridor for +the generals to pass the three officers quite easily, but Zherkov, +pushing Nesvitski aside with his arm, said in a breathless voice, + +"They're coming!... they're coming!... Stand aside, make way, please +make way!" + +The generals were passing by, looking as if they wished to avoid +embarrassing attentions. On the face of the wag Zherkov there suddenly +appeared a stupid smile of glee which he seemed unable to suppress. + +"Your excellency," said he in German, stepping forward and +addressing the Austrian general, "I have the honor to congratulate +you." + +He bowed his head and scraped first with one foot and then with +the other, awkwardly, like a child at a dancing lesson. + +The member of the Hofkriegsrath looked at him severely but, seeing +the seriousness of his stupid smile, could not but give him a moment's +attention. He screwed up his eyes showing that he was listening. + +"I have the honor to congratulate you. General Mack has arrived, +quite well, only a little bruised just here," he added, pointing +with a beaming smile to his head. + +The general frowned, turned away, and went on. + +"Gott, wie naiv!"~^ said he angrily, after he had gone a few steps. + +^~ "Good God, what simplicity!" + +Nesvitski with a laugh threw his arms round Prince Andrew, but +Bolkonski, turning still paler, pushed him away with an angry look and +turned to Zherkov. The nervous irritation aroused by the appearance of +Mack, the news of his defeat, and the thought of what lay before the +Russian army found vent in anger at Zherkov's untimely jest. + +"If you, sir, choose to make a buffoon of yourself," he said +sharply, with a slight trembling of the lower jaw, "I can't prevent +your doing so; but I warn you that if you dare to play the fool in +my presence, I will teach you to behave yourself." + +Nesvitski and Zherkov were so surprised by this outburst that they +gazed at Bolkonski silently with wide-open eyes. + +"What's the matter? I only congratulated them," said Zherkov. + +"I am not jesting with you; please be silent!" cried Bolkonski, +and taking Nesvitski's arm he left Zherkov, who did not know what to +say. + +"Come, what's the matter, old fellow?" said Nesvitski trying to +soothe him. + +"What's the matter?" exclaimed Prince Andrew standing still in his +excitement. "Don't you understand that either we are officers +serving our Tsar and our country, rejoicing in the successes and +grieving at the misfortunes of our common cause, or we are merely +lackeys who care nothing for their master's business. Quarante mille +hommes massacres et l'armee de nos allies detruite, et vous trouvez la +le mot pour rire,"~^ he said, as if strengthening his views by this +French sentence. "C' est bien pour un garcon de rein comme cet +individu dont vous avez fait un ami, mais pas pour vous, pas pour +vous.~^ Only a hobbledehoy could amuse himself in this way," he +added in Russian- but pronouncing the word with a French accent- +having noticed that Zherkov could still hear him. + +^~ "Forty thousand men massacred and the army of our allies destroyed, +and you find that a cause for jesting!" + +^~ "It is all very well for that good-for-nothing fellow of whom +you have made a friend, but not for you, not for you." + +He waited a moment to see whether the cornet would answer, but he +turned and went out of the corridor. + +CHAPTER IV + +The Pavlograd Hussars were stationed two miles from Braunau. The +squadron in which Nicholas Rostov served as a cadet was quartered in +the German village of Salzeneck. The best quarters in the village were +assigned to cavalry-captain Denisov, the squadron commander, known +throughout the whole cavalry division as Vaska Denisov. Cadet +Rostov, ever since he had overtaken the regiment in Poland, had +lived with the squadron commander. + +On October 11, the day when all was astir at headquarters over the +news of Mack's defeat, the camp life of the officers of this +squadron was proceeding as usual. Denisov, who had been losing at +cards all night, had not yet come home when Rostov rode back early +in the morning from a foraging expedition. Rostov in his cadet +uniform, with a jerk to his horse, rode up to the porch, swung his leg +over the saddle with a supple youthful movement, stood for a moment in +the stirrup as if loathe to part from his horse, and at last sprang +down and called to his orderly. + +"Ah, Bondarenko, dear friend!" said he to the hussar who rushed up +headlong to the horse. "Walk him up and down, my dear fellow," he +continued, with that gay brotherly cordiality which goodhearted +young people show to everyone when they are happy. + +"Yes, your excellency," answered the Ukrainian gaily, tossing his +head. + +"Mind, walk him up and down well!" + +Another hussar also rushed toward the horse, but Bondarenko had +already thrown the reins of the snaffle bridle over the horse's +head. It was evident that the cadet was liberal with his tips and that +it paid to serve him. Rostov patted the horse's neck and then his +flank, and lingered for a moment. + +"Splendid! What a horse he will be!" he thought with a smile, and +holding up his saber, his spurs jingling, he ran up the steps of the +porch. His landlord, who in a waistcoat and a pointed cap, pitchfork +in hand, was clearing manure from the cowhouse, looked out, and his +face immediately brightened on seeing Rostov. "Schon gut Morgen! Schon +gut Morgen!"~^ he said winking with a merry smile, evidently pleased to +greet the young man. + +^~ "A very good morning! A very good morning!" + +"Schon fleissig?"~^ said Rostov with the same gay brotherly smile +which did not leave his eager face. "Hoch Oestreicher! Hoch Russen! +Kaiser Alexander hoch!"~^ said he, quoting words often repeated by +the German landlord. + +^~ "Busy already?" + +^~ "Hurrah for the Austrians! Hurrah for the Russians! Hurrah +for Emperor Alexander!" + +The German laughed, came out of the cowshed, pulled off his cap, and +waving it above his head cried: + +"Und die ganze Welt hoch!"~^ + +^~ "And hurrah for the whole world!" + +Rostov waved his cap above his head like the German and ctied +laughing, "Und vivat die ganze Welt!" Though neither the German +cleaning his cowshed nor Rostov back with his platoon from foraging +for hay had any reason for rejoicing, they looked at each other with +joyful delight and brotherly love, wagged their heads in token of +their mutual affection, and parted smiling, the German returning to +his cowshed and Rostov going to the cottage he occupied with Denisov. + +"What about your master?" he asked Lavrushka, Denisov's orderly, +whom all the regiment knew for a rogue. + +"Hasn't been in since the evening. Must have been losing," +answered Lavrushka. "I know by now, if he wins he comes back early +to brag about it, but if he stays out till morning it means he's +lost and will come back in a rage. Will you have coffee?" + +"Yes, bring some." + +Ten minutes later Lavrushka brought the coffee. "He's coming!" +said he. "Now for trouble!" Rostov looked out of the window and saw +Denisov coming home. Denisov was a small man with a red face, +sparkling black eyes, and black tousled mustache and hair. He wore +an unfastened cloak, wide breeches hanging down in creases, and a +crumpled shako on the back of his head. He came up to the porch +gloomily, hanging his head. + +"Lavwuska!" he shouted loudly and angrily, "take it off, blockhead!" + +"Well, I am taking it off," replied Lavrushka's voice. + +"Ah, you're up already," said Denisov, entering the room. + +"Long ago," answered Rostov, "I have already been for the hay, and +have seen Fraulein Mathilde." + +"Weally! And I've been losing, bwother. I lost yesterday like a +damned fool!" cried Denisov, not pronouncing his r's. "Such ill +luck! Such ill luck. As soon as you left, it began and went on. +Hullo there! Tea!" + +Puckering up his face though smiling, and showing his short strong +teeth, he began with stubby fingers of both hands to ruffle up his +thick tangled black hair. + +"And what devil made me go to that wat?" (an officer nicknamed +"the rat") he said, rubbing his forehead and whole face with both +hands. "Just fancy, he didn't let me win a single cahd, not one cahd." + +He took the lighted pipe that was offered to him, gripped it in +his fist, and tapped it on the floor, making the sparks fly, while +he continued to shout. + +"He lets one win the singles and collahs it as soon as one doubles +it; gives the singles and snatches the doubles!" + +He scattered the burning tobacco, smashed the pipe, and threw it +away. Then he remained silent for a while, and all at once looked +cheerfully with his glittering, black eyes at Rostov. + +"If at least we had some women here; but there's nothing foh one +to do but dwink. If we could only get to fighting soon. Hullo, who's +there?" he said, turning to the door as he heard a tread of heavy +boots and the clinking of spurs that came to a stop, and a +respectful cough. + +"The squadron quartermaster!" said Lavrushka. + +Denisov's face puckered still more. + +"Wetched!" he muttered, throwing down a purse with some gold in +it. "Wostov, deah fellow, just see how much there is left and shove +the purse undah the pillow," he said, and went out to the +quartermaster. + +Rostov took the money and, mechanically arranging the old and new +coins in separate piles, began counting them. + +"Ah! Telyanin! How d'ye do? They plucked me last night," came +Denisov's voice from the next room. + +"Where? At Bykov's, at the rat's... I knew it," replied a piping +voice, and Lieutenant Telyanin, a small officer of the same +squadron, entered the room. + +Rostov thrust the purse under the pillow and shook the damp little +hand which was offered him. Telyanin for some reason had been +transferred from the Guards just before this campaign. He behaved very +well in the regiment but was not liked; Rostov especially detested him +and was unable to overcome or conceal his groundless antipathy to +the man. + +"Well, young cavalryman, how is my Rook behaving?" he asked. (Rook +was a young horse Telyanin had sold to Rostov.) + +The lieutenant never looked the man he was speaking to straight in +the face; his eyes continually wandered from one object to another. + +"I saw you riding this morning..." he added. + +"Oh, he's all right, a good horse," answered Rostov, though the +horse for which he had paid seven hundred rubbles was not worth half +that sum. "He's begun to go a little lame on the left foreleg," he +added. + +"The hoof's cracked! That's nothing. I'll teach you what to do and +show you what kind of rivet to use." + +"Yes, please do," said Rostov. + +"I'll show you, I'll show you! It's not a secret. And it's a horse +you'll thank me for." + +"Then I'll have it brought round," said Rostov wishing to avoid +Telyanin, and he went out to give the order. + +In the passage Denisov, with a pipe, was squatting on the +threshold facing the quartermaster who was reporting to him. On seeing +Rostov, Denisov screwed up his face and pointing over his shoulder +with his thumb to the room where Telyanin was sitting, he frowned +and gave a shudder of disgust. + +"Ugh! I don't like that fellow"' he said, regardless of the +quartermaster's presence. + +Rostov shrugged his shoulders as much as to say: "Nor do I, but +what's one to do?" and, having given his order, he returned to +Telyanin. + +Telyanin was sitting in the same indolent pose in which Rostov had +left him, rubbing his small white hands. + +"Well there certainly are disgusting people," thought Rostov as he +entered. + +"Have you told them to bring the horse?" asked Telyanin, getting +up and looking carelessly about him. + +"I have." + +"Let us go ourselves. I only came round to ask Denisov about +yesterday's order. Have you got it, Denisov?" + +"Not yet. But where are you off to?" + +"I want to teach this young man how to shoe a horse," said Telyanin. + +They went through the porch and into the stable. The lieutenant +explained how to rivet the hoof and went away to his own quarters. + +When Rostov went back there was a bottle of vodka and a sausage on +the table. Denisov was sitting there scratching with his pen on a +sheet of paper. He looked gloomily in Rostov's face and said: "I am +witing to her." + +He leaned his elbows on the table with his pen in his hand and, +evidently glad of a chance to say quicker in words what he wanted to +write, told Rostov the contents of his letter. + +"You see, my fwiend," he said, "we sleep when we don't love. We +are childwen of the dust... but one falls in love and one is a God, +one is pua' as on the first day of cweation... Who's that now? Send +him to the devil, I'm busy!" he shouted to Lavrushka, who went up to +him not in the least abashed. + +"Who should it be? You yourself told him to come. It's the +quartermaster for the money." + +Denisov frowned and was about to shout some reply but stopped. + +"Wetched business," he muttered to himself. "How much is left in the +puhse?" he asked, turning to Rostov. + +"Seven new and three old imperials." + +"Oh, it's wetched! Well, what are you standing there for, you +sca'cwow? Call the quahtehmasteh," he shouted to Lavrushka. + +"Please, Denisov, let me lend you some: I have some, you know," said +Rostov, blushing. + +"Don't like bowwowing from my own fellows, I don't," growled +Denisov. + +"But if you won't accept money from me like a comrade, you will +offend me. Really I have some," Rostov repeated. + +"No, I tell you." + +And Denisov went to the bed to get the purse from under the pillow. + +"Where have you put it, Wostov?" + +"Under the lower pillow." + +"It's not there." + +Denisov threw both pillows on the floor. The purse was not there. + +"That's a miwacle." + +"Wait, haven't you dropped it?" said Rostov, picking up the +pillows one at a time and shaking them. + +He pulled off the quilt and shook it. The purse was not there. + +"Dear me, can I have forgotten? No, I remember thinking that you +kept it under your head like a treasure," said Rostov. "I put it +just here. Where is it?" he asked, turning to Lavrushka. + +"I haven't been in the room. It must be where you put it." + +"But it isn't?..." + +"You're always like that; you thwow a thing down anywhere and forget +it. Feel in your pockets." + +"No, if I hadn't thought of it being a treasure," said Rostov, +"but I remember putting it there." + +Lavrushka turned all the bedding over, looked under the bed and +under the table, searched everywhere, and stood still in the middle of +the room. Denisov silently watched Lavrushka's movements, and when the +latter threw up his arms in surprise saying it was nowhere to be found +Denisov glanced at Rostov. + +"Wostov, you've not been playing schoolboy twicks..." + +Rostov felt Denisov's gaze fixed on him, raised his eyes, and +instantly dropped them again. All the blood which had seemed congested +somewhere below his throat rushed to his face and eyes. He could not +draw breath. + +"And there hasn't been anyone in the room except the lieutenant +and yourselves. It must be here somewhere," said Lavrushka. + +"Now then, you devil's puppet, look alive and hunt for it!" +shouted Denisov, suddenly, turning purple and rushing at the man +with a threatening gesture. "If the purse isn't found I'll flog you, +I'll flog you all." + +Rostov, his eyes avoiding Denisov, began buttoning his coat, buckled +on his saber, and put on his cap. + +"I must have that purse, I tell you," shouted Denisov, shaking his +orderly by the shoulders and knocking him against the wall. + +"Denisov, let him alone, I know who has taken it," said Rostov, +going toward the door without raising his eyes. Denisov paused, +thought a moment, and, evidently understanding what Rostov hinted +at, seized his arm. + +"Nonsense!" he cried, and the veins on his forehead and neck stood +out like cords. "You are mad, I tell you. I won't allow it. The +purse is here! I'll flay this scoundwel alive, and it will be found." + +"I know who has taken it," repeated Rostov in an unsteady voice, and +went to the door. + +"And I tell you, don't you dahe to do it!" shouted Denisov, +rushing at the cadet to restrain him. + +But Rostov pulled away his arm and, with as much anger as though +Denisov were his worst enemy, firmly fixed his eyes directly on his +face. + +"Do you understand what you're saying?" he said in a trembling +voice. "There was no one else in the room except myself. So that if it +is not so, then..." + +He could not finish, and ran out of the room. + +"Ah, may the devil take you and evewybody," were the last words +Rostov heard. + +Rostov went to Telyanin's quarters. + +"The master is not in, he's gone to headquarters," said Telyanin's +orderly. "Has something happened?" he added, surprised at the +cadet's troubled face. + +"No, nothing." + +"You've only just missed him," said the orderly. + +The headquarters were situated two miles away from Salzeneck, and +Rostov, without returning home, took a horse and rode there. There was +an inn in the village which the officers frequented. Rostov rode up to +it and saw Telyanin's horse at the porch. + +In the second room of the inn the lieutenant was sitting over a dish +of sausages and a bottle of wine. + +"Ah, you've come here too, young man!" he said, smiling and +raising his eyebrows. + +"Yes," said Rostov as if it cost him a great deal to utter the word; +and he sat down at the nearest table. + +Both were silent. There were two Germans and a Russian officer in +the room. No one spoke and the only sounds heard were the clatter of +knives and the munching of the lieutenant. + +When Telyanin had finished his lunch he took out of his pocket a +double purse and, drawing its rings aside with his small, white, +turned-up fingers, drew out a gold imperial, and lifting his +eyebrows gave it to the waiter. + +"Please be quick," he said. + +The coin was a new one. Rostov rose and went up to Telyanin. + +"Allow me to look at your purse," he said in a low, almost +inaudible, voice. + +With shifting eyes but eyebrows still raised, Telyanin handed him +the purse. + +"Yes, it's a nice purse. Yes, yes," he said, growing suddenly +pale, and added, "Look at it, young man." + +Rostov took the purse in his hand, examined it and the money in +it, and looked at Telyanin. The lieutenant was looking about in his +usual way and suddenly seemed to grow very merry. + +"If we get to Vienna I'll get rid of it there but in these +wretched little towns there's nowhere to spend it," said he. "Well, +let me have it, young man, I'm going." + +Rostov did not speak. + +"And you? Are you going to have lunch too? They feed you quite +decently here," continued Telyanin. "Now then, let me have it." + +He stretched out his hand to take hold of the purse. Rostov let go +of it. Telyanin took the purse and began carelessly slipping it into +the pocket of his riding breeches, with his eyebrows lifted and his +mouth slightly open, as if to say, "Yes, yes, I am putting my purse in +my pocket and that's quite simple and is no else's business." + +"Well, young man?" he said with a sigh, and from under his lifted +brows he glanced into Rostov's eyes. + +Some flash as of an electric spark shot from Telyanin's eyes to +Rostov's and back, and back again and again in an instant. + +"Come here," said Rostov, catching hold of Telyanin's arm and almost +dragging him to the window. "That money is Denisov's; you took +it..." he whispered just above Telyanin's ear. + +"What? What? How dare you? What?" said Telyanin. + +But these words came like a piteous, despairing cry and an +entreaty for pardon. As soon as Rostov heard them, an enormous load of +doubt fell from him. He was glad, and at the same instant began to +pity the miserable man who stood before him, but the task he had begun +had to be completed. + +"Heaven only knows what the people here may imagine," muttered +Telyanin, taking up his cap and moving toward a small empty room. +"We must have an explanation..." + +"I know it and shall prove it," said Rostov. + +"I..." + +Every muscle of Telyanin's pale, terrified face began to quiver, his +eyes still shifted from side to side but with a downward look not +rising to Rostov's face, and his sobs were audible. + +"Count!... Don't ruin a young fellow... here is this wretched money, +take it..." He threw it on the table. "I have an old father and +mother!..." + +Rostov took the money, avoiding Telyanin's eyes, and went out of the +room without a word. But at the door he stopped and then retraced +his steps. "O God," he said with tears in his eyes, "how could you +do it?" + +"Count..." said Telyanin drawing nearer to him. + +"Don't touch me," said Rostov, drawing back. "If you need it, take +the money," and he threw the purse to him and ran out of the inn. + +CHAPTER V + +That same evening there was an animated discussion among the +squadron's officers in Denisov's quarters. + +"And I tell you, Rostov, that you must apologize to the colonel!" +said a tall, grizzly-haired staff captain, with enormous mustaches and +many wrinkles on his large features, to Rostov who was crimson with +excitement. + +The staff captain, Kirsten, had twice been reduced to the ranks +for affairs of honor and had twice regained his commission. + +"I will allow no one to call me a liar!" cried Rostov. "He told me I +lied, and I told him he lied. And there it rests. He may keep me on +duty every day, or may place me under arrest, but no one can make me +apologize, because if he, as commander of this regiment, thinks it +beneath his dignity to give me satisfaction, then..." + +"You just wait a moment, my dear fellow, and listen," interrupted +the staff captain in his deep bass, calmly stroking his long mustache. +"You tell the colonel in the presence of other officers that an +officer has stolen..." + +"I'm not to blame that the conversation began in the presence of +other officers. Perhaps I ought not to have spoken before them, but +I am not a diplomatist. That's why I joined the hussars, thinking that +here one would not need finesse; and he tells me that I am lying- so +let him give me satisfaction..." + +"That's all right. No one thinks you a coward, but that's not the +point. Ask Denisov whether it is not out of the question for a cadet +to demand satisfaction of his regimental commander?" + +Denisov sat gloomily biting his mustache and listening to the +conversation, evidently with no wish to take part in it. He answered +the staff captain's question by a disapproving shake of his head. + +"You speak to the colonel about this nasty business before other +officers," continued the staff captain, "and Bogdanich" (the colonel +was called Bogdanich) "shuts you up." + +"He did not shut me up, he said I was telling an untruth." + +"Well, have it so, and you talked a lot of nonsense to him and +must apologize." + +"Not on any account!" exclaimed Rostov. + +"I did not expect this of you," said the staff captain seriously and +severely. "You don't wish to apologize, but, man, it's not only to him +but to the whole regiment- all of us- you're to blame all round. The +case is this: you ought to have thought the matter over and taken +advice; but no, you go and blurt it all straight out before the +officers. Now what was the colonel to do? Have the officer tried and +disgrace the whole regiment? Disgrace the whole regiment because of +one scoundrel? Is that how you look at it? We don't see it like +that. And Bogdanich was a brick: he told you you were saying what +was not true. It's not pleasant, but what's to be done, my dear +fellow? You landed yourself in it. And now, when one wants to smooth +the thing over, some conceit prevents your apologizing, and you wish +to make the whole affair public. You are offended at being put on duty +a bit, but why not apologize to an old and honorable officer? Whatever +Bogdanich may be, anyway he is an honorable and brave old colonel! +You're quick at taking offense, but you don't mind disgracing the +whole regiment!" The staff captain's voice began to tremble. "You have +been in the regiment next to no time, my lad, you're here today and +tomorrow you'll be appointed adjutant somewhere and can snap your +fingers when it is said 'There are thieves among the Pavlograd +officers!' But it's not all the same to us! Am I not right, Denisov? +It's not the same!" + +Denisov remained silent and did not move, but occasionally looked +with his glittering black eyes at Rostov. + +"You value your own pride and don't wish to apologize," continued +the staff captain, "but we old fellows, who have grown up in and, +God willing, are going to die in the regiment, we prize the honor of +the regiment, and Bogdanich knows it. Oh, we do prize it, old +fellow! And all this is not right, it's not right! You may take +offense or not but I always stick to mother truth. It's not right!" + +And the staff captain rose and turned away from Rostov. + +"That's twue, devil take it" shouted Denisov, jumping up. "Now then, +Wostov, now then!" + +Rostov, growing red and pale alternately, looked first at one +officer and then at the other. + +"No, gentlemen, no... you mustn't think... I quite understand. +You're wrong to think that of me... I... for me... for the honor of +the regiment I'd... Ah well, I'll show that in action, and for me +the honor of the flag... Well, never mind, it's true I'm to blame, +to blame all round. Well, what else do you want?..." + +"Come, that's right, Count!" cried the staff captain, turning +round and clapping Rostov on the shoulder with his big hand. + +"I tell you," shouted Denisov, "he's a fine fellow." + +"That's better, Count," said the staff captain, beginning to address +Rostov by his title, as if in recognition of his confession. "Go and +apologize, your excellency. Yes, go!" + +"Gentlemen, I'll do anything. No one shall hear a word from me," +said Rostov in an imploring voice, "but I can't apologize, by God I +can't, do what you will! How can I go and apologize like a little +boy asking forgiveness?" + +Denisov began to laugh. + +"It'll be worse for you. Bogdanich is vindictive and you'll pay +for your obstinacy," said Kirsten. + +"No, on my word it's not obstinacy! I can't describe the feeling. +I can't..." + +"Well, it's as you like," said the staff captain. "And what has +become of that scoundrel?" he asked Denisov. + +"He has weported himself sick, he's to be stwuck off the list +tomowwow," muttered Denisov. + +"It is an illness, there's no other way of explaining it," said +the staff captain. + +"Illness or not, he'd better not cwoss my path. I'd kill him!" +shouted Denisov in a bloodthirsty tone. + +Just then Zherkov entered the room. + +"What brings you here?" cried the officers turning to the newcomer. + +"We're to go into action, gentlemen! Mack has surrendered with his +whole army." + +"It's not true!" + +"I've seen him myself!" + +"What? Saw the real Mack? With hands and feet?" + +"Into action! Into action! Bring him a bottle for such news! But how +did you come here?" + +"I've been sent back to the regiment all on account of that devil, +Mack. An Austrian general complained of me. I congratulated him on +Mack's arrival... What's the matter, Rostov? You look as if you'd just +come out of a hot bath." + +"Oh, my dear fellow, we're in such a stew here these last two days." + +The regimental adjutant came in and confirmed the news brought by +Zherkov. They were under orders to advance next day. + +"We're going into action, gentlemen!" + +"Well, thank God! We've been sitting here too long!" + +CHAPTER VI + +Kutuzov fell back toward Vienna, destroying behind him the bridges +over the rivers Inn (at Braunau) and Traun (near Linz). On October +23 the Russian troops were crossing the river Enns. At midday the +Russian baggage train, the artillery, and columns of troops were +defiling through the town of Enns on both sides of the bridge. + +It was a warm, rainy, autumnal day. The wide expanse that opened out +before the heights on which the Russian batteries stood guarding the +bridge was at times veiled by a diaphanous curtain of slanting rain, +and then, suddenly spread out in the sunlight, far-distant objects +could be clearly seen glittering as though freshly varnished. Down +below, the little town could be seen with its white, red-roofed +houses, its cathedral, and its bridge, on both sides of which streamed +jostling masses of Russian troops. At the bend of the Danube, vessels, +an island, and a castle with a park surrounded by the waters of the +confluence of the Enns and the Danube became visible, and the rocky +left bank of the Danube covered with pine forests, with a mystic +background of green treetops and bluish gorges. The turrets of a +convent stood out beyond a wild virgin pine forest, and far away on +the other side of the Enns the enemy's horse patrols could be +discerned. + +Among the field guns on the brow of the hill the general in +command of the rearguard stood with a staff officer, scanning the +country through his fieldglass. A little behind them Nesvitski, who +had been sent to the rearguard by the commander in chief, was +sitting on the trail of a gun carriage. A Cossack who accompanied +him had handed him a knapsack and a flask, and Nesvitski was +treating some officers to pies and real doppelkummel. The officers +gladly gathered round him, some on their knees, some squatting Turkish +fashion on the wet grass. + +"Yes, the Austrian prince who built that castle was no fool. It's +a fine place! Why are you not eating anything, gentlemen?" Nesvitski +was saying. + +"Thank you very much, Prince," answered one of the officers, pleased +to be talking to a staff officer of such importance. "It's a lovely +place! We passed close to the park and saw two deer... and what a +splendid house!" + +"Look, Prince," said another, who would have dearly liked to take +another pie but felt shy, and therefore pretended to be examining +the countryside- "See, our infantrymen have already got there. Look +there in the meadow behind the village, three of them are dragging +something. They'll ransack that castle," he remarked with evident +approval. + +"So they will," said Nesvitski. "No, but what I should like," +added he, munching a pie in his moist-lipped handsome mouth, "would be +to slip in over there." + +He pointed with a smile to a turreted nunnery, and his eyes narrowed +and gleamed. + +"That would be fine, gentlemen!" + +The officers laughed. + +"Just to flutter the nuns a bit. They say there are Italian girls +among them. On my word I'd give five years of my life for it!" + +"They must be feeling dull, too," said one of the bolder officers, +laughing. + +Meanwhile the staff officer standing in front pointed out +something to the general, who looked through his field glass. + +"Yes, so it is, so it is," said the general angrily, lowering the +field glass and shrugging his shoulders, "so it is! They'll be fired +on at the crossing. And why are they dawdling there?" + +On the opposite side the enemy could be seen by the naked eye, and +from their battery a milk-white cloud arose. Then came the distant +report of a shot, and our troops could be seen hurrying to the +crossing. + +Nesvitski rose, puffing, and went up to the general, smiling. + +"Would not your excellency like a little refreshment?" he said. + +"It's a bad business," said the general without answering him, +"our men have been wasting time." + +"Hadn't I better ride over, your excellency?" asked Nesvitski. + +"Yes, please do," answered the general, and he repeated the order +that had already once been given in detail: "and tell the hussars that +they are to cross last and to fire the bridge as I ordered; and the +inflammable material on the bridge must be reinspected." + +"Very good," answered Nesvitski. + +He called the Cossack with his horse, told him to put away the +knapsack and flask, and swung his heavy person easily into the saddle. + +"I'll really call in on the nuns," he said to the officers who +watched him smilingly, and he rode off by the winding path down the +hill. + +"Now then, let's see how far it will carry, Captain. Just try!" said +the general, turning to an artillery officer. "Have a little fun to +pass the time." + +"Crew, to your guns!" commanded the officer. + +In a moment the men came running gaily from their campfires and +began loading. + +"One!" came the command. + +Number one jumped briskly aside. The gun rang out with a deafening +metallic roar, and a whistling grenade flew above the heads of our +troops below the hill and fell far short of the enemy, a little +smoke showing the spot where it burst. + +The faces of officers and men brightened up at the sound. Everyone +got up and began watching the movements of our troops below, as +plainly visible as if but a stone's throw away, and the movements of +the approaching enemy farther off. At the same instant the sun came +fully out from behind the clouds, and the clear sound of the +solitary shot and the brilliance of the bright sunshine merged in a +single joyous and spirited impression. + +CHAPTER VII + +Two of the enemy's shots had already flown across the bridge, +where there was a crush. Halfway across stood Prince Nesvitski, who +had alighted from his horse and whose big body was body was jammed +against the railings. He looked back laughing to the Cossack who stood +a few steps behind him holding two horses by their bridles. Each +time Prince Nesvitski tried to move on, soldiers and carts pushed +him back again and pressed him against the railings, and all he +could do was to smile. + +"What a fine fellow you are, friend!" said the Cossack to a convoy +soldier with a wagon, who was pressing onto the infantrymen who were +crowded together close to his wheels and his horses. "What a fellow! +You can't wait a moment! Don't you see the general wants to pass?" + +But the convoyman took no notice of the word "general" and shouted +at the soldiers who were blocking his way. "Hi there, boys! Keep to +the left! Wait a bit." But the soldiers, crowded together shoulder +to shoulder, their bayonets interlocking, moved over the bridge in a +dense mass. Looking down over the rails Prince Nesvitski saw the +rapid, noisy little waves of the Enns, which rippling and eddying +round the piles of the bridge chased each other along. Looking on +the bridge he saw equally uniform living waves of soldiers, shoulder +straps, covered shakos, knapsacks, bayonets, long muskets, and, +under the shakos, faces with broad cheekbones, sunken cheeks, and +listless tired expressions, and feet that moved through the sticky mud +that covered the planks of the bridge. Sometimes through the +monotonous waves of men, like a fleck of white foam on the waves of +the Enns, an officer, in a cloak and with a type of face different +from that of the men, squeezed his way along; sometimes like a chip of +wood whirling in the river, an hussar on foot, an orderly, or a +townsman was carried through the waves of infantry; and sometimes like +a log floating down the river, an officers' or company's baggage +wagon, piled high, leather covered, and hemmed in on all sides, +moved across the bridge. + +"It's as if a dam had burst," said the Cossack hopelessly. "Are +there many more of you to come?" + +"A million all but one!" replied a waggish soldier in a torn coat, +with a wink, and passed on followed by another, an old man. + +"If he" (he meant the enemy) "begins popping at the bridge now," +said the old soldier dismally to a comrade, "you'll forget to +scratch yourself." + +That soldier passed on, and after him came another sitting on a +cart. + +"Where the devil have the leg bands been shoved to?" said an +orderly, running behind the cart and fumbling in the back of it. + +And he also passed on with the wagon. Then came some merry +soldiers who had evidently been drinking. + +"And then, old fellow, he gives him one in the teeth with the butt +end of his gun..." a soldier whose greatcoat was well tucked up said +gaily, with a wide swing of his arm. + +"Yes, the ham was just delicious..." answered another with a loud +laugh. And they, too, passed on, so that Nesvitski did not learn who +had been struck on the teeth, or what the ham had to do with it. + +"Bah! How they scurry. He just sends a ball and they think they'll +all be killed," a sergeant was saying angrily and reproachfully. + +"As it flies past me, Daddy, the ball I mean," said a young +soldier with an enormous mouth, hardly refraining from laughing, "I +felt like dying of fright. I did, 'pon my word, I got that +frightened!" said he, as if bragging of having been frightened. + +That one also passed. Then followed a cart unlike any that had +gone before. It was a German cart with a pair of horses led by a +German, and seemed loaded with a whole houseful of effects. A fine +brindled cow with a large udder was attached to the cart behind. A +woman with an unweaned baby, an old woman, and a healthy German girl +with bright red cheeks were sitting on some feather beds. Evidently +these fugitives were allowed to pass by special permission. The eyes +of all the soldiers turned toward the women, and while the vehicle was +passing at foot pace all the soldiers' remarks related to the two +young ones. Every face bore almost the same smile, expressing unseemly +thoughts about the women. + +"Just see, the German sausage is making tracks, too!" + +"Sell me the missis," said another soldier, addressing the German, +who, angry and frightened, strode energetically along with downcast +eyes. + +"See how smart she's made herself! Oh, the devils!" + +"There, Fedotov, you should be quartered on them!" + +"I have seen as much before now, mate!" + +"Where are you going?" asked an infantry officer who was eating an +apple, also half smiling as he looked at the handsome girl. + +The German closed his eyes, signifying that he did not understand. + +"Take it if you like," said the officer, giving the girl an apple. + +The girl smiled and took it. Nesvitski like the rest of the men on +the bridge did not take his eyes off the women till they had passed. +When they had gone by, the same stream of soldiers followed, with +the same kind of talk, and at last all stopped. As often happens, +the horses of a convoy wagon became restive at the end of the +bridge, and the whole crowd had to wait. + +"And why are they stopping? There's no proper order!" said the +soldiers. "Where are you shoving to? Devil take you! Can't you wait? +It'll be worse if he fires the bridge. See, here's an officer jammed +in too"- different voices were saying in the crowd, as the men +looked at one another, and all pressed toward the exit from the +bridge. + +Looking down at the waters of the Enns under the bridge, Nesvitski +suddenly heard a sound new to him, of something swiftly approaching... +something big, that splashed into the water. + +"Just see where it carries to!" a soldier near by said sternly, +looking round at the sound. + +"Encouraging us to get along quicker," said another uneasily. + +The crowd moved on again. Nesvitski realized that it was a cannon +ball. + +"Hey, Cossack, my horse!" he said. "Now, then, you there! get out of +the way! Make way!" + +With great difficulty he managed to get to his horse, and shouting +continually he moved on. The soldiers squeezed themselves to make +way for him, but again pressed on him so that they jammed his leg, and +those nearest him were not to blame for they were themselves pressed +still harder from behind. + +"Nesvitski, Nesvitski! you numskull!" came a hoarse voice from +behind him. + +Nesvitski looked round and saw, some fifteen paces away but +separated by the living mass of moving infantry, Vaska Denisov, red +and shaggy, with his cap on the back of his black head and a cloak +hanging jauntily over his shoulder. + +"Tell these devils, these fiends, to let me pass!" shouted Denisov +evidently in a fit of rage, his coal-black eyes with their bloodshot +whites glittering and rolling as he waved his sheathed saber in a +small bare hand as red as his face. + +"Ah, Vaska!" joyfully replied Nesvitski. "What's up with you?" + +"The squadwon can't pass," shouted Vaska Denisov, showing his +white teeth fiercely and spurring his black thoroughbred Arab, which +twitched its ears as the bayonets touched it, and snorted, spurting +white foam from his bit, tramping the planks of the bridge with his +hoofs, and apparently ready to jump over the railings had his rider +let him. "What is this? They're like sheep! Just like sheep! Out of +the way!... Let us pass!... Stop there, you devil with the cart! +I'll hack you with my saber!" he shouted, actually drawing his saber +from its scabbard and flourishing it + +The soldiers crowded against one another with terrified faces, and +Denisov joined Nesvitski. + +"How's it you're not drunk today?" said Nesvitski when the other had +ridden up to him. + +"They don't even give one time to dwink!" answered Vaska Denisov. +"They keep dwagging the wegiment to and fwo all day. If they mean to +fight, let's fight. But the devil knows what this is." + +"What a dandy you are today!" said Nesvitski, looking at Denisov's +new cloak and saddlecloth. + +Denisov smiled, took out of his sabretache a handkerchief that +diffused a smell of perfume, and put it to Nesvitski's nose. + +"Of course. I'm going into action! I've shaved, bwushed my teeth, +and scented myself." + +The imposing figure of Nesvitski followed by his Cossack, and the +determination of Denisov who flourished his sword and shouted +frantically, had such an effect that they managed to squeeze through +to the farther side of the bridge and stopped the infantry. Beside the +bridge Nesvitski found the colonel to whom he had to deliver the +order, and having done this he rode back. + +Having cleared the way Denisov stopped at the end of the bridge. +Carelessly holding in his stallion that was neighing and pawing the +ground, eager to rejoin its fellows, he watched his squadron draw +nearer. Then the clang of hoofs, as of several horses galloping, +resounded on the planks of the bridge, and the squadron, officers in +front and men four abreast, spread across the bridge and began to +emerge on his side of it. + +The infantry who had been stopped crowded near the bridge in the +trampled mud and gazed with that particular feeling of ill-will, +estrangement, and ridicule with which troops of different arms usually +encounter one another at the clean, smart hussars who moved past +them in regular order. + +"Smart lads! Only fit for a fair!" said one. + +"What good are they? They're led about just for show!" remarked +another. + +"Don't kick up the dust, you infantry!" jested an hussar whose +prancing horse had splashed mud over some foot soldiers. + +"I'd like to put you on a two days' march with a knapsack! Your fine +cords would soon get a bit rubbed," said an infantryman, wiping the +mud off his face with his sleeve. "Perched up there, you're more +like a bird than a man." + +"There now, Zikin, they ought to put you on a horse. You'd look +fine," said a corporal, chaffing a thin little soldier who bent +under the weight of his knapsack. + +"Take a stick between your legs, that'll suit you for a horse!" +the hussar shouted back. + +CHAPTER VIII + +The last of the infantry hurriedly crossed the bridge, squeezing +together as they approached it as if passing through a funnel. At last +the baggage wagons had all crossed, the crush was less, and the last +battalion came onto the bridge. Only Denisov's squadron of hussars +remained on the farther side of the bridge facing the enemy, who could +be seen from the hill on the opposite bank but was not yet visible +from the bridge, for the horizon as seen from the valley through which +the river flowed was formed by the rising ground only half a mile +away. At the foot of the hill lay wasteland over which a few groups of +our Cossack scouts were moving. Suddenly on the road at the top of the +high ground, artillery and troops in blue uniform were seen. These +were the French. A group of Cossack scouts retired down the hill at +a trot. All the officers and men of Denisov's squadron, though they +tried to talk of other things and to look in other directions, thought +only of what was there on the hilltop, and kept constantly looking +at the patches appearing on the skyline, which they knew to be the +enemy's troops. The weather had cleared again since noon and the sun +was descending brightly upon the Danube and the dark hills around +it. It was calm, and at intervals the bugle calls and the shouts of +the enemy could be heard from the hill. There was no one now between +the squadron and the enemy except a few scattered skirmishers. An +empty space of some seven hundred yards was all that separated them. +The enemy ceased firing, and that stern, threatening, inaccessible, +and intangible line which separates two hostile armies was all the +more clearly felt. + +"One step beyond that boundary line which resembles the line +dividing the living from the dead lies uncertainty, suffering, and +death. And what is there? Who is there?- there beyond that field, that +tree, that roof lit up by the sun? No one knows, but one wants to +know. You fear and yet long to cross that line, and know that sooner +or later it must be crossed and you will have to find out what is +there, just as you will inevitably have to learn what lies the other +side of death. But you are strong, healthy, cheerful, and excited, and +are surrounded by other such excitedly animated and healthy men." So +thinks, or at any rate feels, anyone who comes in sight of the +enemy, and that feeling gives a particular glamour and glad keenness +of impression to everything that takes place at such moments. + +On the high ground where the enemy was, the smoke of a cannon +rose, and a ball flew whistling over the heads of the hussar squadron. +The officers who had been standing together rode off to their +places. The hussars began carefully aligning their horses. Silence +fell on the whole squadron. All were looking at the enemy in front and +at the squadron commander, awaiting the word of command. A second +and a third cannon ball flew past. Evidently they were firing at the +hussars, but the balls with rapid rhythmic whistle flew over the heads +of the horsemen and fell somewhere beyond them. The hussars did not +look round, but at the sound of each shot, as at the word of +command, the whole squadron with its rows of faces so alike yet so +different, holding its breath while the ball flew past, rose in the +stirrups and sank back again. The soldiers without turning their heads +glanced at one another, curious to see their comrades' impression. +Every face, from Denisov's to that of the bugler, showed one common +expression of conflict, irritation, and excitement, around chin and +mouth. The quartermaster frowned, looking at the soldiers as if +threatening to punish them. Cadet Mironov ducked every time a ball +flew past. Rostov on the left flank, mounted on his Rook- a handsome +horse despite its game leg- had the happy air of a schoolboy called up +before a large audience for an examination in which he feels sure he +will distinguish himself. He was glancing at everyone with a clear, +bright expression, as if asking them to notice how calmly he sat under +fire. But despite himself, on his face too that same indication of +something new and stern showed round the mouth. + +"Who's that curtseying there? Cadet Miwonov! That's not wight! +Look at me," cried Denisov who, unable to keep still on one spot, kept +turning his horse in front of the squadron. + +The black, hairy, snub-nosed face of Vaska Denisov, and his whole +short sturdy figure with the sinewy hairy hand and stumpy fingers in +which he held the hilt of his naked saber, looked just as it usually +did, especially toward evening when he had emptied his second +bottle; he was only redder than usual. With his shaggy head thrown +back like birds when they drink, pressing his spurs mercilessly into +the sides of his good horse, Bedouin, and sitting as though falling +backwards in the saddle, he galloped to the other flank of the +squadron and shouted in a hoarse voice to the men to look to their +pistols. He rode up to Kirsten. The staff captain on his broad-backed, +steady mare came at a walk to meet him. His face with its long +mustache was serious as always, only his eyes were brighter than +usual. + +"Well, what about it?" said he to Denisov. "It won't come to a +fight. You'll see- we shall retire." + +"The devil only knows what they're about!" muttered Denisov. "Ah, +Wostov," he cried noticing the cadet's bright face, "you've got it +at last." + +And he smiled approvingly, evidently pleased with the cadet. +Rostov felt perfectly happy. Just then the commander appeared on the +bridge. Denisov galloped up to him. + +"Your excellency! Let us attack them! I'll dwive them off." + +"Attack indeed!" said the colonel in a bored voice, puckering up his +face as if driving off a troublesome fly. "And why are you stopping +here? Don't you see the skirmishers are retreating? Lead the +squadron back." + +The squadron crossed the bridge and drew out of range of fire +without having lost a single man. The second squadron that had been in +the front line followed them across and the last Cossacks quitted +the farther side of the river. + +The two Pavlograd squadrons, having crossed the bridge, retired up +the hill one after the other. Their colonel, Karl Bogdanich +Schubert, came up to Denisov's squadron and rode at a footpace not far +from Rostov, without taking any notice of him although they were now +meeting for the first time since their encounter concerning +Telyanin. Rostov, feeling that he was at the front and in the power of +a man toward whom he now admitted that he had been to blame, did not +lift his eyes from the colonel's athletic back, his nape covered +with light hair, and his red neck. It seemed to Rostov that +Bogdanich was only pretending not to notice him, and that his whole +aim now was to test the cadet's courage, so he drew himself up and +looked around him merrily; then it seemed to him that Bogdanich rode +so near in order to show him his courage. Next he thought that his +enemy would send the squadron on a desperate attack just to punish +him- Rostov. Then he imagined how, after the attack, Bogdanich would +come up to him as he lay wounded and would magnanimously extend the +hand of reconciliation. + +The high-shouldered figure of Zherkov, familiar to the Pavlograds as +he had but recently left their regiment, rode up to the colonel. After +his dismissal from headquarters Zherkov had not remained in the +regiment, saying he was not such a fool as to slave at the front +when he could get more rewards by doing nothing on the staff, and +had succeeded in attaching himself as an orderly officer to Prince +Bagration. He now came to his former chief with an order from the +commander of the rear guard. + +"Colonel," he said, addressing Rostov's enemy with an air of +gloomy gravity and glancing round at his comrades, "there is an +order to stop and fire the bridge." + +"An order to who?" asked the colonel morosely. + +"I don't myself know 'to who,'" replied the cornet in a serious +tone, "but the prince told me to 'go and tell the colonel that the +hussars must return quickly and fire the bridge.'" + +Zherkov was followed by an officer of the suite who rode up to the +colonel of hussars with the same order. After him the stout +Nesvitski came galloping up on a Cossack horse that could scarcely +carry his weight. + +"How's this, Colonel?" he shouted as he approached. "I told you to +fire the bridge, and now someone has gone and blundered; they are +all beside themselves over there and one can't make anything out." + +The colonel deliberately stopped the regiment and turned to +Nesvitski. + +"You spoke to me of inflammable material," said he, "but you said +nothing about firing it." + +"But, my dear sir," said Nesvitski as he drew up, taking off his cap +and smoothing his hair wet with perspiration with his plump hand, +"wasn't I telling you to fire the bridge, when inflammable material +had been put in position?" + +"I am not your 'dear sir,' Mr. Staff Officer, and you did not tell +me to burn the bridge! I know the service, and it is my habit orders +strictly to obey. You said the bridge would be burned, but who would +it burn, I could not know by the holy spirit!" + +"Ah, that's always the way!" said Nesvitski with a wave of the hand. +"How did you get here?" said he, turning to Zherkov. + +"On the same business. But you are damp! Let me wring you out!" + +"You were saying, Mr. Staff Officer..." continued the colonel in +an offended tone. + +"Colonel," interrupted the officer of the suite, "You must be +quick or the enemy will bring up his guns to use grapeshot." + +The colonel looked silently at the officer of the suite, at the +stout staff officer, and at Zherkov, and he frowned. + +"I will the bridge fire," he said in a solemn tone as if to announce +that in spite of all the unpleasantness he had to endure he would +still do the right thing. + +Striking his horse with his long muscular legs as if it were to +blame for everything, the colonel moved forward and ordered the second +squadron, that in which Rostov was serving under Denisov, to return to +the bridge. + +"There, it's just as I thought," said Rostov to himself. "He +wishes to test me!" His heart contracted and the blood rushed to his +face. "Let him see whether I am a coward!" he thought. + +Again on all the bright faces of the squadron the serious expression +appeared that they had worn when under fire. Rostov watched his enemy, +the colonel, closely- to find in his face confirmation of his own +conjecture, but the colonel did not once glance at Rostov, and +looked as he always did when at the front, solemn and stern. Then came +the word of command. + +"Look sharp! Look sharp!" several voices repeated around him. + +Their sabers catching in the bridles and their spurs jingling, the +hussars hastily dismounted, not knowing what they were to do. The +men were crossing themselves. Rostov no longer looked at the +colonel, he had no time. He was afraid of falling behind the +hussars, so much afraid that his heart stood still. His hand +trembled as he gave his horse into an orderly's charge, and he felt +the blood rush to his heart with a thud. Denisov rode past him, +leaning back and shouting something. Rostov saw nothing but the +hussars running all around him, their spurs catching and their +sabers clattering. + +"Stretchers!" shouted someone behind him. + +Rostov did not think what this call for stretchers meant; he ran on, +trying only to be ahead of the others; but just at the bridge, not +looking at the ground, he came on some sticky, trodden mud, +stumbled, and fell on his hands. The others outstripped him. + +"At boss zides, Captain," he heard the voice of the colonel, who, +having ridden ahead, had pulled up his horse near the bridge, with a +triumphant, cheerful face. + +Rostov wiping his muddy hands on his breeches looked at his enemy +and was about to run on, thinking that the farther he went to the +front the better. But Bogdanich, without looking at or recognizing +Rostov, shouted to him: + +"Who's that running on the middle of the bridge? To the right! +Come back, Cadet!" he cried angrily; and turning to Denisov, who, +showing off his courage, had ridden on to the planks of the bridge: + +"Why run risks, Captain? You should dismount," he said. + +"Oh, every bullet has its billet," answered Vaska Denisov, turning +in his saddle. + +Meanwhile Nesvitski, Zherkov, and the officer of the suite were +standing together out of range of the shots, watching, now the small +group of men with yellow shakos, dark-green jackets braided with cord, +and blue riding breeches, who were swarming near the bridge, and +then at what was approaching in the distance from the opposite side- +the blue uniforms and groups with horses, easily recognizable as +artillery. + +"Will they burn the bridge or not? Who'll get there first? Will they +get there and fire the bridge or will the French get within +grapeshot range and wipe them out?" These were the questions each +man of the troops on the high ground above the bridge involuntarily +asked himself with a sinking heart- watching the bridge and the +hussars in the bright evening light and the blue tunics advancing from +the other side with their bayonets and guns. + +"Ugh. The hussars will get it hot!" said Nesvitski; "they are within +grapeshot range now." + +"He shouldn't have taken so many men," said the officer of the +suite. + +"True enough," answered Nesvitski; "two smart fellows could have +done the job just as well." + +"Ah, your excellency," put in Zherkov, his eyes fixed on the +hussars, but still with that naive air that made it impossible to know +whether he was speaking in jest or in earnest. "Ah, your excellency! +How you look at things! Send two men? And who then would give us the +Vladimir medal and ribbon? But now, even if they do get peppered, +the squadron may be recommended for honors and he may get a ribbon. +Our Bogdanich knows how things are done." + +"There now!" said the officer of the suite, "that's grapeshot." + +He pointed to the French guns, the limbers of which were being +detached and hurriedly removed. + +On the French side, amid the groups with cannon, a cloud of smoke +appeared, then a second and a third almost simultaneously, and at +the moment when the first report was heard a fourth was seen. Then two +reports one after another, and a third. + +"Oh! Oh!" groaned Nesvitski as if in fierce pain, seizing the +officer of the suite by the arm. "Look! A man has fallen! Fallen, +fallen!" + +"Two, I think." + +"If I were Tsar I would never go to war," said Nesvitski, turning +away. + +The French guns were hastily reloaded. The infantry in their blue +uniforms advanced toward the bridge at a run. Smoke appeared again but +at irregular intervals, and grapeshot cracked and rattled onto the +bridge. But this time Nesvitski could not see what was happening +there, as a dense cloud of smoke arose from it. The hussars had +succeeded in setting it on fire and the French batteries were now +firing at them, no longer to hinder them but because the guns were +trained and there was someone to fire at. + +The French had time to fire three rounds of grapeshot before the +hussars got back to their horses. Two were misdirected and the shot +went too high, but the last round fell in the midst of a group of +hussars and knocked three of them over. + +Rostov, absorbed by his relations with Bogdanich, had paused on +the bridge not knowing what to do. There was no one to hew down (as he +had always imagined battles to himself), nor could he help to fire the +bridge because he had not brought any burning straw with him like +the other soldiers. He stood looking about him, when suddenly he heard +a rattle on the bridge as if nuts were being spilt, and the hussar +nearest to him fell against the rails with a groan. Rostov ran up to +him with the others. Again someone shouted, "Stretchers!" Four men +seized the hussar and began lifting him. + +"Oooh! For Christ's sake let me alone!" cried the wounded man, but +still he was lifted and laid on the stretcher. + +Nicholas Rostov turned away and, as if searching for something, +gazed into the distance, at the waters of the Danube, at the sky, +and at the sun. How beautiful the sky looked; how blue, how calm, +and how deep! How bright and glorious was the setting sun! With what +soft glitter the waters of the distant Danube shone. And fairer +still were the faraway blue mountains beyond the river, the nunnery, +the mysterious gorges, and the pine forests veiled in the mist of +their summits... There was peace and happiness... "I should wishing +for nothing else, nothing, if only I were there," thought Rostov. +"In myself alone and in that sunshine there is so much happiness; +but here... groans, suffering, fear, and this uncertainty and hurry... +There- they are shouting again, and again are all running back +somewhere, and I shall run with them, and it, death, is here above +me and around... Another instant and I shall never again see the +sun, this water, that gorge!..." + +At that instant the sun began to hide behind the clouds, and other +stretchers came into view before Rostov. And the fear of death and +of the stretchers, and love of the sun and of life, all merged into +one feeling of sickening agitation. + +"O Lord God! Thou who art in that heaven, save, forgive, and protect +me!" Rostov whispered. + +The hussars ran back to the men who held their horses; their +voices sounded louder and calmer, the stretchers disappeared from +sight. + +"Well, fwiend? So you've smelt powdah!" shouted Vaska Denisov just +above his ear. + +"It's all over; but I am a coward- yes, a coward!" thought Rostov, +and sighing deeply he took Rook, his horse, which stood resting one +foot, from the orderly and began to mount. + +"Was that grapeshot?" he asked Denisov. + +"Yes and no mistake!" cried Denisov. "You worked like wegular bwicks +and it's nasty work! An attack's pleasant work! Hacking away at the +dogs! But this sort of thing is the very devil, with them shooting +at you like a target." + +And Denisov rode up to a group that had stopped near Rostov, +composed of the colonel, Nesvitski, Zherkov, and the officer from +the suite. + +"Well, it seems that no one has noticed," thought Rostov. And this +was true. No one had taken any notice, for everyone knew the sensation +which the cadet under fire for the first time had experienced. + +"Here's something for you to report," said Zherkov. "See if I +don't get promoted to a sublieutenancy." + +"Inform the prince that I the bridge fired!" said the colonel +triumphantly and gaily. + +"And if he asks about the losses?" + +"A trifle," said the colonel in his bass voice: "two hussars +wounded, and one knocked out," he added, unable to restrain a happy +smile, and pronouncing the phrase "knocked out" with ringing +distinctness. + +CHAPTER IX + +Pursued by the French army of a hundred thousand men under the +command of Bonaparte, encountering a population that was unfriendly to +it, losing confidence in its allies, suffering from shortness of +supplies, and compelled to act under conditions of war unlike anything +that had been foreseen, the Russian army of thirty-five thousand men +commanded by Kutuzov was hurriedly retreating along the Danube, +stopping where overtaken by the enemy and fighting rearguard actions +only as far as necessary to enable it to retreat without losing its +heavy equipment. There had been actions at Lambach, Amstetten, and +Melk; but despite the courage and endurance- acknowledged even by +the enemy- with which the Russians fought, the only consequence of +these actions was a yet more rapid retreat. Austrian troops that had +escaped capture at Ulm and had joined Kutuzov at Braunau now separated +from the Russian army, and Kutuzov was left with only his own weak and +exhausted forces. The defense of Vienna was no longer to be thought +of. Instead of an offensive, the plan of which, carefully prepared +in accord with the modern science of strategics, had been handed to +Kutuzov when he was in Vienna by the Austrian Hofkriegsrath, the +sole and almost unattainable aim remaining for him was to effect a +junction with the forces that were advancing from Russia, without +losing his army as Mack had done at Ulm. + +On the twenty-eighth of October Kutuzov with his army crossed to the +left bank of the Danube and took up a position for the first time with +the river between himself and the main body of the French. On the +thirtieth he attacked Mortier's division, which was on the left +bank, and broke it up. In this action for the first time trophies were +taken: banners, cannon, and two enemy generals. For the first time, +after a fortnight's retreat, the Russian troops had halted and after a +fight had not only held the field but had repulsed the French. +Though the troops were ill-clad, exhausted, and had lost a third of +their number in killed, wounded, sick, and stragglers; though a number +of sick and wounded had been abandoned on the other side of the Danube +with a letter in which Kutuzov entrusted them to the humanity of the +enemy; and though the big hospitals and the houses in Krems +converted into military hospitals could no longer accommodate all +the sick and wounded, yet the stand made at Krems and the victory over +Mortier raised the spirits of the army considerably. Throughout the +whole army and at headquarters most joyful though erroneous rumors +were rife of the imaginary approach of columns from Russia, of some +victory gained by the Austrians, and of the retreat of the +frightened Bonaparte. + +Prince Andrew during the battle had been in attendance on the +Austrian General Schmidt, who was killed in the action. His horse +had been wounded under him and his own arm slightly grazed by a +bullet. As a mark of the commander in chief's special favor he was +sent with the news of this victory to the Austrian court, now no +longer at Vienna (which was threatened by the French) but at Brunn. +Despite his apparently delicate build Prince Andrew could endure +physical fatigue far better than many very muscular men, and on the +night of the battle, having arrived at Krems excited but not weary, +with dispatches from Dokhturov to Kutuzov, he was sent immediately +with a special dispatch to Brunn. To be so sent meant not only a +reward but an important step toward promotion. + +The night was dark but starry, the road showed black in the snow +that had fallen the previous day- the day of the battle. Reviewing his +impressions of the recent battle, picturing pleasantly to himself +the impression his news of a victory would create, or recalling the +send-off given him by the commander in chief and his fellow +officers, Prince Andrew was galloping along in a post chaise +enjoying the feelings of a man who has at length begun to attain a +long-desired happiness. As soon as he closed his eyes his ears +seemed filled with the rattle of the wheels and the sensation of +victory. Then he began to imagine that the Russians were running +away and that he himself was killed, but he quickly roused himself +with a feeling of joy, as if learning afresh that this was not so +but that on the contrary the French had run away. He again recalled +all the details of the victory and his own calm courage during the +battle, and feeling reassured he dozed off.... The dark starry night +was followed by a bright cheerful morning. The snow was thawing in the +sunshine, the horses galloped quickly, and on both sides of the road +were forests of different kinds, fields, and villages. + +At one of the post stations he overtook a convoy of Russian wounded. +The Russian officer in charge of the transport lolled back in the +front cart, shouting and scolding a soldier with coarse abuse. In each +of the long German carts six or more pale, dirty, bandaged men were +being jolted over the stony road. Some of them were talking (he +heard Russian words), others were eating bread; the more severely +wounded looked silently, with the languid interest of sick children, +at the envoy hurrying past them. + +Prince Andrew told his driver to stop, and asked a soldier in what +action they had been wounded. "Day before yesterday, on the Danube," +answered the soldier. Prince Andrew took out his purse and gave the +soldier three gold pieces. + +"That's for them all," he said to the officer who came up. + +"Get well soon, lads!" he continued, turning to the soldiers. +"There's plenty to do still." + +"What news, sir?" asked the officer, evidently anxious to start a +conversation. + +"Good news!... Go on!" he shouted to the driver, and they galloped +on. + +It was already quite dark when Prince Andrew rattled over the +paved streets of Brunn and found himself surrounded by high buildings, +the lights of shops, houses, and street lamps, fine carriages, and all +that atmosphere of a large and active town which is always so +attractive to a soldier after camp life. Despite his rapid journey and +sleepless night, Prince Andrew when he drove up to the palace felt +even more vigorous and alert than he had done the day before. Only his +eyes gleamed feverishly and his thoughts followed one another with +extraordinary clearness and rapidity. He again vividly recalled the +details of the battle, no longer dim, but definite and in the +concise form concise form in which he imagined himself stating them to +the Emperor Francis. He vividly imagined the casual questions that +might be put to him and the answers he would give. He expected to be +at once presented to the Emperor. At the chief entrance to the palace, +however, an official came running out to meet him, and learning that +he was a special messenger led him to another entrance. + +"To the right from the corridor, Euer Hochgeboren! There you will +find the adjutant on duty," said the official. "He will conduct you to +the Minister of War." + +The adjutant on duty, meeting Prince Andrew, asked him to wait, +and went in to the Minister of War. Five minutes later he returned and +bowing with particular courtesy ushered Prince Andrew before him along +a corridor to the cabinet where the Minister of War was at work. The +adjutant by his elaborate courtesy appeared to wish to ward off any +attempt at familiarity on the part of the Russian messenger. + +Prince Andrew's joyous feeling was considerably weakened as he +approached the door of the minister's room. He felt offended, and +without his noticing it the feeling of offense immediately turned into +one of disdain which was quite uncalled for. His fertile mind +instantly suggested to him a point of view which gave him a right to +despise the adjutant and the minister. "Away from the smell of powder, +they probably think it easy to gain victories!" he thought. His eyes +narrowed disdainfully, he entered the room of the Minister of War with +peculiarly deliberate steps. This feeling of disdain was heightened +when he saw the minister seated at a large table reading some papers +and making pencil notes on them, and for the first two or three +minutes taking no notice of his arrival. A wax candle stood at each +side of the minister's bent bald head with its gray temples. He went +on reading to the end, without raising his eyes at the opening of +the door and the sound of footsteps. + +"Take this and deliver it," said he to his adjutant, handing him the +papers and still taking no notice of the special messenger. + +Prince Andrew felt that either the actions of Kutuzov's army +interested the Minister of War less than any of the other matters he +was concerned with, or he wanted to give the Russian special messenger +that impression. "But that is a matter of perfect indifference to me," +he thought. The minister drew the remaining papers together, +arranged them evenly, and then raised his head. He had an intellectual +and distinctive head, but the instant he turned to Prince Andrew the +firm, intelligent expression on his face changed in a way evidently +deliberate and habitual to him. His face took on the stupid artificial +smile (which does not even attempt to hide its artificiality) of a man +who is continually receiving many petitioners one after another. + +"From General Field Marshal Kutuzov?" he asked. "I hope it is good +news? There has been an encounter with Mortier? A victory? It was high +time!" + +He took the dispatch which was addressed to him and began to read it +with a mournful expression. + +"Oh, my God! My God! Schmidt!" he exclaimed in German. "What a +calamity! What a calamity!" + +Having glanced through the dispatch he laid it on the table and +looked at Prince Andrew, evidently considering something. + +"Ah what a calamity! You say the affair was decisive? But Mortier is +not captured." Again he pondered. "I am very glad you have brought +good news, though Schmidt's death is a heavy price to pay for the +victory. His Majesty will no doubt wish to see you, but not today. I +thank you! You must have a rest. Be at the levee tomorrow after the +parade. However, I will let you know." + +The stupid smile, which had left his face while he was speaking, +reappeared. + +"Au revoir! Thank you very much. His Majesty will probably desire to +see you," he added, bowing his head. + +When Prince Andrew left the palace he felt that all the interest and +happiness the victory had afforded him had been now left in the +indifferent hands of the Minister of War and the polite adjutant. +The whole tenor of his thoughts instantaneously changed; the battle +seemed the memory of a remote event long past. + +CHAPTER X + +Prince Andrew stayed at Brunn with Bilibin, a Russian acquaintance +of his in the diplomatic service. + +"Ah, my dear prince! I could not have a more welcome visitor," +said Bilibin as he came out to meet Prince Andrew. "Franz, put the +prince's things in my bedroom," said he to the servant who was +ushering Bolkonski in. "So you're a messenger of victory, eh? +Splendid! And I am sitting here ill, as you see." + +After washing and dressing, Prince Andrew came into the diplomat's +luxurious study and sat down to the dinner prepared for him. Bilibin +settled down comfortably beside the fire. + +After his journey and the campaign during which he had been deprived +of all the comforts of cleanliness and all the refinements of life, +Prince Andrew felt a pleasant sense of repose among luxurious +surroundings such as he had been accustomed to from childhood. Besides +it was pleasant, after his reception by the Austrians, to speak if not +in Russian (for they were speaking French) at least with a Russian who +would, he supposed, share the general Russian antipathy to the +Austrians which was then particularly strong. + +Bilibin was a man of thirty-five, a bachelor, and of the same circle +as Prince Andrew. They had known each other previously in +Petersburg, but had become more intimate when Prince Andrew was in +Vienna with Kutuzov. Just as Prince Andrew was a young man who gave +promise of rising high in the military profession, so to an even +greater extent Bilibin gave promise of rising in his diplomatic +career. He still a young man but no longer a young diplomat, as he had +entered the service at the age of sixteen, had been in Paris and +Copenhagen, and now held a rather important post in Vienna. Both the +foreign minister and our ambassador in Vienna knew him and valued him. +He was not one of those many diplomats who are esteemed because they +have certain negative qualities, avoid doing certain things, and speak +French. He was one of those, who, liking work, knew how to do it, +and despite his indolence would sometimes spend a whole night at his +writing table. He worked well whatever the import of his work. It +was not the question "What for?" but the question "How?" that +interested him. What the diplomatic matter might be he did not care, +but it gave him great pleasure to prepare a circular, memorandum, or +report, skillfully, pointedly, and elegantly. Bilibin's services +were valued not only for what he wrote, but also for his skill in +dealing and conversing with those in the highest spheres. + +Bilibin liked conversation as he liked work, only when it could be +made elegantly witty. In society he always awaited an opportunity to +say something striking and took part in a conversation only when +that was possible. His conversation was always sprinkled with +wittily original, finished phrases of general interest. These +sayings were prepared in the inner laboratory of his mind in a +portable form as if intentionally, so that insignificant society +people might carry them from drawing room to drawing room. And, in +fact, Bilibin's witticisms were hawked about in the Viennese drawing +rooms and often had an influence on matters considered important. + +His thin, worn, sallow face was covered with deep wrinkles, which +always looked as clean and well washed as the tips of one's fingers +after a Russian bath. The movement of these wrinkles formed the +principal play of expression on his face. Now his forehead would +pucker into deep folds and his eyebrows were lifted, then his eyebrows +would descend and deep wrinkles would crease his cheeks. His small, +deep-set eyes always twinkled and looked out straight. + +"Well, now tell me about your exploits," said he. + +Bolkonski, very modestly without once mentioning himself, +described the engagement and his reception by the Minister of War. + +"They received me and my news as one receives a dog in a game of +skittles," said he in conclusion. + +Bilibin smiled and the wrinkles on his face disappeared. + +"Cependant, mon cher," he remarked, examining his nails from a +distance and puckering the skin above his left eye, "malgre la haute +estime que je professe pour the Orthodox Russian army, j'avoue que +votre victoire n'est pas des plus victorieuses."~^ + +^~ "But my dear fellow, with all my respect for the Orthodox Russian +army, I must say that your victory was not particularly victorious." + +He went on talking in this way in French, uttering only those +words in Russian on which he wished to put a contemptuous emphasis. + +"Come now! You with all your forces fall on the unfortunate +Mortier and his one division, and even then Mortier slips through your +fingers! Where's the victory?" + +"But seriously," said Prince Andrew, "we can at any rate say without +boasting that it was a little better than at Ulm..." + +"Why didn't you capture one, just one, marshal for us?" + +"Because not everything happens as one expects or with the +smoothness of a parade. We had expected, as I told you, to get at +their rear by seven in the morning but had not reached it by five in +the afternoon." + +"And why didn't you do it at seven in the morning? You ought to have +been there at seven in the morning," returned Bilibin with a smile. +"You ought to have been there at seven in the morning." + +"Why did you not succeed in impressing on Bonaparte by diplomatic +methods that he had better leave Genoa alone?" retorted Prince +Andrew in the same tone. + +"I know," interrupted Bilibin, "you're thinking it's very easy to +take marshals, sitting on a sofa by the fire! That is true, but +still why didn't you capture him? So don't be surprised if not only +the Minister of War but also his Most August Majesty the Emperor and +King Francis is not much delighted by your victory. Even I, a poor +secretary of the Russian Embassy, do not feel any need in token of +my joy to give my Franz a thaler, or let him go with his Liebchen to +the Prater... True, we have no Prater here..." + +He looked straight at Prince Andrew and suddenly unwrinkled his +forehead. + +"It is now my turn to ask you 'why?' mon cher," said Bolkonski. "I +confess I do not understand: perhaps there are diplomatic subtleties +here beyond my feeble intelligence, but I can't make it out. Mack +loses a whole army, the Archduke Ferdinand and the Archduke Karl +give no signs of life and make blunder after blunder. Kutuzov alone at +last gains a real victory, destroying the spell of the invincibility +of the French, and the Minister of War does not even care to hear +the details." + +"That's just it, my dear fellow. You see it's hurrah for the Tsar, +for Russia, for the Orthodox Greek faith! All that is beautiful, but +what do we, I mean the Austrian court, care for your victories? +Bring us nice news of a victory by the Archduke Karl or Ferdinand (one +archduke's as good as another, as you know) and even if it is only +over a fire brigade of Bonaparte's, that will be another story and +we'll fire off some cannon! But this sort of thing seems done on +purpose to vex us. The Archduke Karl does nothing, the Archduke +Ferdinand disgraces himself. You abandon Vienna, give up its +defense- as much as to say: 'Heaven is with us, but heaven help you +and your capital!' The one general whom we all loved, Schmidt, you +expose to a bullet, and then you congratulate us on the victory! Admit +that more irritating news than yours could not have been conceived. +It's as if it had been done on purpose, on purpose. Besides, suppose +you did gain a brilliant victory, if even the Archduke Karl gained a +victory, what effect would that have on the general course of +events? It's too late now when Vienna is occupied by the French army!" + +"What? Occupied? Vienna occupied?" + +"Not only occupied, but Bonaparte is at Schonbrunn, and the count, +our dear Count Vrbna, goes to him for orders." + +After the fatigues and impressions of the journey, his reception, +and especially after having dined, Bolkonski felt that he could not +take in the full significance of the words he heard. + +"Count Lichtenfels was here this morning," Bilibin continued, "and +showed me a letter in which the parade of the French in Vienna was +fully described: Prince Murat et tout le tremblement... You see that +your victory is not a matter for great rejoicing and that you can't be +received as a savior." + +"Really I don't care about that, I don't care at all," said Prince +Andrew, beginning to understand that his news of the battle before +Krems was really of small importance in view of such events as the +fall of Austria's capital. "How is it Vienna was taken? What of the +bridge and its celebrated bridgehead and Prince Auersperg? We heard +reports that Prince Auersperg was defending Vienna?" he said. + +"Prince Auersperg is on this, on our side of the river, and is +defending us- doing it very badly, I think, but still he is +defending us. But Vienna is on the other side. No, the bridge has +not yet been taken and I hope it will not be, for it is mined and +orders have been given to blow it up. Otherwise we should long ago +have been in the mountains of Bohemia, and you and your army would +have spent a bad quarter of an hour between two fires." + +"But still this does not mean that the campaign is over," said +Prince Andrew. + +"Well, I think it is. The bigwigs here think so too, but they +daren't say so. It will be as I said at the beginning of the campaign, +it won't be your skirmishing at Durrenstein, or gunpowder at all, that +will decide the matter, but those who devised it," said Bilibin +quoting one of his own mots, releasing the wrinkles on his forehead, +and pausing. "The only question is what will come of the meeting +between the Emperor Alexander and the King of Prussia in Berlin? If +Prussia joins the Allies, Austria's hand will be forced and there will +be war. If not it is merely a question of settling where the +preliminaries of the new Campo Formio are to be drawn up." + +"What an extraordinary genius!" Prince Andrew suddenly exclaimed, +clenching his small hand and striking the table with it, "and what +luck the man has!" + +"Buonaparte?" said Bilibin inquiringly, puckering up his forehead to +indicate that he was about to say something witty. "Buonaparte?" he +repeated, accentuating the u: "I think, however, now that he lays down +laws for Austria at Schonbrunn, il faut lui faire grace de l'u!~^ I +shall certainly adopt an innovation and call him simply Bonaparte!" + +^~ "We must let him off the u!" + +"But joking apart," said Prince Andrew, "do you really think the +campaign is over?" + +"This is what I think. Austria has been made a fool of, and she is +not used to it. She will retaliate. And she has been fooled in the +first place because her provinces have been pillaged- they say the +Holy Russian army loots terribly- her army is destroyed, her capital +taken, and all this for the beaux yeux~^ of His Sardinian Majesty. +And therefore- this is between ourselves- I instinctively feel that we +are being deceived, my instinct tells me of negotiations with France +and projects for peace, a secret peace concluded separately." + +^~ Fine eyes. + +"Impossible!" cried Prince Andrew. "That would be too base." + +"If we live we shall see," replied Bilibin, his face again +becoming smooth as a sign that the conversation was at an end. + +When Prince Andrew reached the room prepared for him and lay down in +a clean shirt on the feather bed with its warmed and fragrant pillows, +he felt that the battle of which he had brought tidings was far, far +away from him. The alliance with Prussia, Austria's treachery, +Bonaparte's new triumph, tomorrow's levee and parade, and the audience +with the Emperor Francis occupied his thoughts. + +He closed his eyes, and immediately a sound of cannonading, of +musketry and the rattling of carriage wheels seemed to fill his +ears, and now again drawn out in a thin line the musketeers were +descending the hill, the French were firing, and he felt his heart +palpitating as he rode forward beside Schmidt with the bullets merrily +whistling all around, and he experienced tenfold the joy of living, as +he had not done since childhood. + +He woke up... + +"Yes, that all happened!" he said, and, smiling happily to himself +like a child, he fell into a deep, youthful slumber. + +CHAPTER XI + +Next day he woke late. Recalling his recent impressions, the first +thought that came into his mind was that today he had to be +presented to the Emperor Francis; he remembered the Minister of War, + +the polite Austrian adjutant, Bilibin, and last night's +conversation. Having dressed for his attendance at court in full +parade uniform, which he had not worn for a long time, he went into +Bilibin's study fresh, animated, and handsome, with his hand bandaged. +In the study were four gentlemen of the diplomatic corps. With +Prince Hippolyte Kuragin, who was a secretary to the embassy, +Bolkonski was already acquainted. Bilibin introduced him to the +others. + +The gentlemen assembled at Bilibin's were young, wealthy, gay +society men, who here, as in Vienna, formed a special set which +Bilibin, their leader, called les notres.~^ This set, consisting almost +exclusively of diplomats, evidently had its own interests which had +nothing to do with war or politics but related to high society, to +certain women, and to the official side of the service. These +gentlemen received Prince Andrew as one of themselves, an honor they +did not extend to many. From politeness and to start conversation, +they asked him a few questions about the army and the battle, and then +the talk went off into merry jests and gossip. + +^~ Ours. + +"But the best of it was," said one, telling of the misfortune of a +fellow diplomat, "that the Chancellor told him flatly that his +appointment to London was a promotion and that he was so to regard it. +Can you fancy the figure he cut?..." + +"But the worst of it, gentlemen- I am giving Kuragin away to you- is +that that man suffers, and this Don Juan, wicked fellow, is taking +advantage of it!" + +Prince Hippolyte was lolling in a lounge chair with his legs over +its arm. He began to laugh. + +"Tell me about that!" he said. + +"Oh, you Don Juan! You serpent!" cried several voices. + +"You, Bolkonski, don't know," said Bilibin turning to Prince Andrew, +"that all the atrocities of the French army (I nearly said of the +Russian army) are nothing compared to what this man has been doing +among the women!" + +"La femme est la compagne de l'homme,"~^ announced Prince +Hippolyte, and began looking through a lorgnette at his elevated legs. + +^~ "Woman is man's companion." + +Bilibin and the rest of "ours" burst out laughing in Hippolyte's +face, and Prince Andrew saw that Hippolyte, of whom- he had to +admit- he had almost been jealous on his wife's account, was the +butt of this set. + +"Oh, I must give you a treat," Bilibin whispered to Bolkonski. +"Kuragin is exquisite when he discusses politics- you should see his +gravity!" + +He sat down beside Hippolyte and wrinkling his forehead began +talking to him about politics. Prince Andrew and the others gathered +round these two. + +"The Berlin cabinet cannot express a feeling of alliance," began +Hippolyte gazing round with importance at the others, "without +expressing... as in its last note... you understand... Besides, unless +His Majesty the Emperor derogates from the principle of our +alliance... + +"Wait, I have not finished..." he said to Prince Andrew, seizing him +by the arm, "I believe that intervention will be stronger than +nonintervention. And..." he paused. "Finally one cannot impute the +nonreceipt of our dispatch of November 18. That is how it will end." +And he released Bolkonski's arm to indicate that he had now quite +finished. + +"Demosthenes, I know thee by the pebble thou secretest in thy golden +mouth!" said Bilibin, and the mop of hair on his head moved with +satisfaction. + +Everybody laughed, and Hippolyte louder than anyone. He was +evidently distressed, and breathed painfully, but could not restrain +the wild laughter that convulsed his usually impassive features. + +"Well now, gentlemen," said Bilibin, "Bolkonski is my guest in +this house and in Brunn itself. I want to entertain him as far as I +can, with all the pleasures of life here. If we were in Vienna it +would be easy, but here, in this wretched Moravian hole, it is more +difficult, and I beg you all to help me. Brunn's attractions must be +shown him. You can undertake the theater, I society, and you, +Hippolyte, of course the women." + +"We must let him see Amelie, she's exquisite!" said one of "ours," +kissing his finger tips. + +"In general we must turn this bloodthirsty soldier to more humane +interests," said Bilibin. + +"I shall scarcely be able to avail myself of your hospitality, +gentlemen, it is already time for me to go," replied Prince Andrew +looking at his watch. + +"Where to?" + +"To the Emperor." + +"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Well, au revoir, Bolkonski! Au revoir, Prince! Come +back early to dinner," cried several voices. "We'll take you in hand." + +"When speaking to the Emperor, try as far as you can to praise the +way that provisions are supplied and the routes indicated," said +Bilibin, accompanying him to the hall. + +"I should like to speak well of them, but as far as I the facts, I +can't," replied Bolkonski, smiling. + +"Well, talk as much as you can, anyway. He has a passion for +giving audiences, but he does not like talking himself and can't do +it, as you will see." + +CHAPTER XII + +At the levee Prince Andrew stood among the Austrian officers as he +had been told to, and the Emperor Francis merely looked fixedly into +his face and just nodded to him with to him with his long head. But +after it was over, the adjutant he had seen the previous day +ceremoniously informed Bolkonski that the Emperor desired to give +him an audience. The Emperor Francis received him standing in the +middle of the room. Before the conversation began Prince Andrew was +struck by the fact that the Emperor seemed confused and blushed as +if not knowing what to say. + +"Tell me, when did the battle begin?" he asked hurriedly. + +Prince Andrew replied. Then followed other questions just as simple: +"Was Kutuzov well? When had he left Krems?" and so on. The Emperor +spoke as if his sole aim were to put a given number of questions- +the answers to these questions, as was only too evident, did not +interest him. + +"At what o'clock did the battle begin?" asked the Emperor. + +"I cannot inform Your Majesty at what o'clock the battle began at +the front, but at Durrenstein, where I was, our attack began after +five in the afternoon," replied Bolkonski growing more animated and +expecting that he would have a chance to give a reliable account, +which he had ready in his mind, of all he knew and had seen. But the +Emperor smiled and interrupted him. + +"How many miles?" + +"From where to where, Your Majesty?" + +"From Durrenstein to Krems." + +"Three and a half miles, Your Majesty." + +"The French have abandoned the left bank?" + +"According to the scouts the last of them crossed on rafts during +the night." + +"Is there sufficient forage in Krems?" + +"Forage has not been supplied to the extent..." + +The Emperor interrupted him. + +"At what o'clock was General Schmidt killed?" + +"At seven o'clock, I believe." + +"At seven o'clock? It's very sad, very sad!" + +The Emperor thanked Prince Andrew and bowed. Prince Andrew +withdrew and was immediately surrounded by courtiers on all sides. +Everywhere he saw friendly looks and heard friendly words. Yesterday's +adjutant reproached him for not having stayed at the palace, and +offered him his own house. The Minister of War came up and +congratulated him on the Maria Theresa Order of the third grade, which +the Emperor was conferring on him. The Empress' chamberlain invited +him to see Her Majesty. The archduchess also wished to see him. He did +not know whom to answer, and for a few seconds collected his thoughts. +Then the Russian ambassador took him by the shoulder, led him to the +window, and began to talk to him. + +Contrary to Bilibin's forecast the news he had brought was +joyfully received. A thanksgiving service was arranged, Kutuzov was +awarded the Grand Cross of Maria Theresa, and the whole army +received rewards. Bolkonski was invited everywhere, and had to spend +the whole morning calling on the principal Austrian dignitaries. +Between four and five in the afternoon, having made all his calls, +he was returning to Bilibin's house thinking out a letter to his +father about the battle and his visit to Brunn. At the door he found a +vehicle half full of luggage. Franz, Bilibin's man, was dragging a +portmanteau with some difficulty out of the front door. + +Before returning to Bilibin's Prince Andrew had gone to bookshop +to provide himself with some books for the campaign, and had spent +some time in the shop. + +"What is it?" he asked. + +"Oh, your excellency!" said Franz, with difficulty rolling the +portmanteau into the vehicle, "we are to move on still farther. The +scoundrel is again at our heels!" + +"Eh? What?" asked Prince Andrew. + +Bilibin came out to meet him. His usually calm face showed +excitement. + +"There now! Confess that this is delightful," said he. "This +affair of the Thabor Bridge, at Vienna.... They have crossed without +striking a blow!" + +Prince Andrew could not understand. + +"But where do you come from not to know what every coachman in the +town knows?" + +"I come from the archduchess'. I heard nothing there." + +"And you didn't see that everybody is packing up?" + +"I did not... What is it all about?" inquired Prince Andrew +impatiently. + +"What's it all about? Why, the French have crossed the bridge that +Auersperg was defending, and the bridge was not blown up: so Murat +is now rushing along the road to Brunn and will be here in a day or +two." + +"What? Here? But why did they not blow up the bridge, if it was +mined?" + +"That is what I ask you. No one, not even Bonaparte, knows why." + +Bolkonski shrugged his shoulders. + +"But if the bridge is crossed it means that the army too is lost? It +will be cut off," said he. + +"That's just it," answered Bilibin. "Listen! The French entered +Vienna as I told you. Very well. Next day, which was yesterday, +those gentlemen, messieurs les marechaux,~^ Murat, Lannes,and Belliard, +mount and ride to bridge. (Observe that all three are Gascons.) +'Gentlemen,' says one of them, 'you know the Thabor Bridge is mined +and doubly mined and that there are menacing fortifications at its +head and an army of fifteen thousand men has been ordered to blow up +the bridge and not let us cross? But it will please our sovereign +the Emperor Napoleon if we take this bridge, so let us three go and +take it!' 'Yes, let's!' say the others. And off they go and take the +bridge, cross it, and now with their whole army are on this side of +the Danube, marching on us, you, and your lines of communication." + +^~ The marshalls. + +"Stop jesting," said Prince Andrew sadly and seriously. This news +grieved him and yet he was pleased. + +As soon as he learned that the Russian army was in such a hopeless +situation it occurred to him that it was he who was destined to lead +it out of this position; that here was the Toulon that would lift +him from the ranks of obscure officers and offer him the first step to +fame! Listening to Bilibin he was already imagining how on reaching +the army he would give an opinion at the war council which would be +the only one that could save the army, and how he alone would be +entrusted with the executing of the plan. + +"Stop this jesting," he said + +"I am not jesting," Bilibin went on. "Nothing is truer or sadder. +These gentlemen ride onto the bridge alone and wave white +handkerchiefs; they assure the officer on duty that they, the +marshals, are on their way to negotiate with Prince Auersperg. He lets +them enter the tete-de-pont.~^ They spin him a thousand gasconades, +saying that the war is over, that the Emperor Francis is arranging a +meeting with Bonaparte, that they desire to see Prince Auersperg, +and so on. The officer sends for Auersperg; these gentlemen embrace +the officers, crack jokes, sit on the cannon, and meanwhile a French +battalion gets to the bridge unobserved, flings the bags of incendiary +material into the water, and approaches the tete-de-pont. At length +appears the lieutenant general, our dear Prince Auersperg von +Mautern himself. 'Dearest foe! Flower of the Austrian army, hero of +the Turkish wars Hostilities are ended, we can shake one another's +hand.... The Emperor Napoleon burns with impatience to make Prince +Auersperg's acquaintance.' In a word, those gentlemen, Gascons indeed, +so bewildered him with fine words, and he is so flattered by his +rapidly established intimacy with the French marshals, and so +dazzled by the sight of Murat's mantle and ostrich plumes, qu'il n'y +voit que du feu, et oublie celui qu'il devait faire faire sur +l'ennemi!"~^ In spite of the animation of his speech, Bilibin did +not forget to pause after this mot to give time for its due +appreciation. "The French battalion rushes to the bridgehead, spikes +the guns, and the bridge is taken! But what is best of all," he went +on, his excitement subsiding under the delightful interest of his +own story, "is that the sergeant in charge of the cannon which was +to give the signal to fire the mines and blow up the bridge, this +sergeant, seeing that the French troops were running onto the +bridge, was about to fire, but Lannes stayed his hand. The sergeant, +who was evidently wiser than his general, goes up to Auersperg and +says: 'Prince, you are being deceived, here are the French!' Murat, +seeing that all is lost if the sergeant is allowed to speak, turns +to Auersperg with feigned astonishment (he is a true Gascon) and says: +'I don't recognize the world-famous Austrian discipline, if you +allow a subordinate to address you like that!' It was a stroke of +genius. Prince Auersperg feels his dignity at stake and orders the +sergeant to be arrested. Come, you must own that this affair of the +Thabor Bridge is delightful! It is not exactly stupidity, nor +rascality...." + +^~ Bridgehead. + +^~ That their fire gets into his eyes and he forgets that he ought +to be firing at the enemy. + +"It may be treachery," said Prince Andrew, vividly imagining the +gray overcoats, wounds, the smoke of gunpowder, the sounds of +firing, and the glory that awaited him. + +"Not that either. That puts the court in too bad a light," replied +Bilibin."It's not treachery nor rascality nor stupidity: it is just as +at Ulm... it is..."- he seemed to be trying to find the right +expression. "C'est... c'est du Mack. Nous sommes mackes [It is... it +is a bit of Mack. We are Macked]," he concluded, feeling that he had +produced a good epigram, a fresh one that would be repeated. His +hitherto puckered brow became smooth as a sign of pleasure, and with a +slight smile he began to examine his nails. + +"Where are you off to?" he said suddenly to Prince Andrew who had +risen and was going toward his room. + +"I am going away." + +"Where to?" + +"To the army." + +"But you meant to stay another two days?" + +"But now I am off at once." + +And Prince Andrew after giving directions about his departure went +to his room. + +"Do you know, mon cher," said Bilibin following him, "I have been +thinking about you. Why are you going?" + +And in proof of the conclusiveness of his opinion all the wrinkles +vanished from his face. + +Prince Andrew looked inquiringly at him and gave no reply. + +"Why are you going? I know you think it your duty to gallop back +to the army now that it is in danger. I understand that. Mon cher, +it is heroism!" + +"Not at all," said Prince Andrew. + +"But as you are a philosopher, be a consistent one, look at the +other side of the question and you will see that your duty, on the +contrary, is to take care of yourself. Leave it to those who are no +longer fit for anything else.... You have not been ordered to return +and have not been dismissed from here; therefore, you can stay and +go with us wherever our ill luck takes us. They say we are going to +Olmutz, and Olmutz is a very decent town. You and I will travel +comfortably in my caleche." + +"Do stop joking, Bilibin," cried Bolkonski. + +"I am speaking sincerely as a friend! Consider! Where and why are +you going, when you might remain here? You are faced by one of two +things," and the skin over his left temple puckered, "either you +will not reach your regiment before peace is concluded, or you will +share defeat and disgrace with Kutuzov's whole army." + +And Bilibin unwrinkled his temple, feeling that the dilemma was +insoluble. + +"I cannot argue about it," replied Prince Andrew coldly, but he +thought: "I am going to save the army." + +"My dear fellow, you are a hero!" said Bilibin. + +CHAPTER XIII + +That same night, having taken leave of the Minister of War, +Bolkonski set off to rejoin the army, not knowing where he would +find it and fearing to be captured by the French on the way to Krems. + +In Brunn everybody attached to the court was packing up, and the +heavy baggage was already being dispatched to Olmutz. Near Hetzelsdorf +Prince Andrew struck the high road along which the Russian army was +moving with great haste and in the greatest disorder. The road was +so obstructed with carts that it was impossible to get by in a +carriage. Prince Andrew took a horse and a Cossack from a Cossack +commander, and hungry and weary, making his way past the baggage +wagons, rode in search of the commander in chief and of his own +luggage. Very sinister reports of the position of the army reached him +as he went along, and the appearance of the troops in their disorderly +flight confirmed these rumors. + +"Cette armee russe que l'or de l'Angleterre a transportee des +extremites de l'univers, nous allons lui faire eprouver le meme +sort- (le sort de l'armee d'Ulm)."~^ He remembered these words in +Bonaparte's address to his army at the beginning of the campaign, +and they awoke in him astonishment at the genius of his hero, a +feeling of wounded pride, and a hope of glory. "And should there be +nothing left but to die?" he thought. "Well, if need be, I shall do it +no worse than others." + +^~ "That Russian army which has been brought from the ends of the +earth by English gold, we shall cause to share the same fate- (the +fate of the army at Ulm)." + +He looked with disdain at the endless confused mass of +detachments, carts, guns, artillery, and again baggage wagons and +vehicles of all kinds overtaking one another and blocking the muddy +road, three and sometimes four abreast. From all sides, behind and +before, as far as ear could reach, there were the rattle of wheels, +the creaking of carts and gun carriages, the tramp of horses, the +crack of whips, shouts, the urging of horses, and the swearing of +soldiers, orderlies, and officers. All along the sides of the road +fallen horses were to be seen, some flayed, some not, and +broken-down carts beside which solitary soldiers sat waiting for +something, and again soldiers straggling from their companies, +crowds of whom set off to the neighboring villages, or returned from +them dragging sheep, fowls, hay, and bulging sacks. At each ascent +or descent of the road the crowds were yet denser and the din of +shouting more incessant. Soldiers floundering knee-deep in mud +pushed the guns and wagons themselves. Whips cracked, hoofs slipped, +traces broke, and lungs were strained with shouting. The officers +directing the march rode backward and forward between the carts. Their +voices were but feebly heard amid the uproar and one saw by their +faces that they despaired of the possibility of checking this +disorder. + +"Here is our dear Orthodox Russian army," thought Bolkonski, +recalling Bilibin's words. + +Wishing to find out where the commander in chief was, he rode up +to a convoy. Directly opposite to him came a strange one-horse +vehicle, evidently rigged up by soldiers out of any available +materials and looking like something between a cart, a cabriolet, +and a caleche. A soldier was driving, and a woman enveloped in +shawls sat behind the apron under the leather hood of the vehicle. +Prince Andrew rode up and was just putting his question to a soldier +when his attention was diverted by the desperate shrieks of the +woman in the vehicle. An officer in charge of transport was beating +the soldier who was driving the woman's vehicle for trying to get +ahead of others, and the strokes of his whip fell on the apron of +the equipage. The woman screamed piercingly. Seeing Prince Andrew +she leaned out from behind the apron and, waving her thin arms from +under the woolen shawl, cried: + +"Mr. Aide-de-camp! Mr. Aide-de-camp!... For heaven's sake... Protect +me! What will become of us? I am the wife of the doctor of the Seventh +Chasseurs.... They won't let us pass, we are left behind and have lost +our people..." + +"I'll flatten you into a pancake!" shouted the angry officer to +the soldier. "Turn back with your slut!" + +"Mr. Aide-de-camp! Help me!... What does it all mean?" screamed +the doctor's wife. + +"Kindly let this cart pass. Don't you see it's a woman?" said Prince +Andrew riding up to the officer. + +The officer glanced at him, and without replying turned again to the +soldier. "I'll teach you to push on!... Back!" + +"Let them pass, I tell you!" repeated Prince Andrew, compressing his +lips. + +"And who are you?" cried the officer, turning on him with tipsy +rage, "who are you? Are you in command here? Eh? I am commander +here, not you! Go back or I'll flatten you into a pancake," repeated +he. This expression evidently pleased him. + +"That was a nice snub for the little aide-de-camp," came a voice +from behind. + +Prince Andrew saw that the officer was in that state of senseless, +tipsy rage when a man does not know what he is saying. He saw that his +championship of the doctor's wife in her queer trap might expose him +to what he dreaded more than anything in the world- to ridicule; but +his instinct urged him on. Before the officer finished his sentence +Prince Andrew, his face distorted with fury, rode up to him and raised +his riding whip. + +"Kind...ly let- them- pass!" + +The officer flourished his arm and hastily rode away. + +"It's all the fault of these fellows on the staff that there's +this disorder," he muttered. "Do as you like." + +Prince Andrew without lifting his eyes rode hastily away from the +doctor's wife, who was calling him her deliverer, and recalling with a +sense of disgust the minutest details of this humiliating scene he +galloped on to the village where he was told that the commander in +chief was. + +On reaching the village he dismounted and went to the nearest house, +intending to rest if but for a moment, eat something, and try to +sort out the stinging and tormenting thoughts that confused his +mind. "This is a mob of scoundrels and not an army," he was thinking +as he went up to the window of the first house, when a familiar +voice called him by name. + +He turned round. Nesvitski's handsome face looked out of the +little window. Nesvitski, moving his moist lips as he chewed +something, and flourishing his arm, called him to enter. + +"Bolkonski! Bolkonski!... Don't you hear? Eh? Come quick..." he +shouted. + +Entering the house, Prince Andrew saw Nesvitski and another adjutant +having something to eat. They hastily turned round to him asking if he +had any news. On their familiar faces he read agitation and alarm. +This was particularly noticeable on Nesvitski's usually laughing +countenance. + +"Where is the commander in chief?" asked Bolkonski. + +"Here, in that house," answered the adjutant. + +"Well, is it true that it's peace and capitulation?" asked +Nesvitski. + +"I was going to ask you. I know nothing except that it was all I +could do to get here." + +"And we, my dear boy! It's terrible! I was wrong to laugh at Mack, +we're getting it still worse," said Nesvitski. "But sit down and +have something to eat." + +"You won't be able to find either your baggage or anything else now, +Prince. And God only knows where your man Peter is," said the other +adjutant. + +"Where are headquarters?" + +"We are to spend the night in Znaim." + +"Well, I have got all I need into packs for two horses," said +Nesvitski. "They've made up splendid packs for me- fit to cross the +Bohemian mountains with. It's a bad lookout, old fellow! But what's +the matter with you? You must be ill to shiver like that," he added, +noticing that Prince Andrew winced as at an electric shock. + +"It's nothing," replied Prince Andrew. + +He had just remembered his recent encounter with the doctor's wife +and the convoy officer. + +"What is the commander in chief doing here?" he asked. + +"I can't make out at all," said Nesvitski. + +"Well, all I can make out is that everything is abominable, +abominable, quite abominable!" said Prince Andrew, and he went off +to the house where the commander in chief was. + +Passing by Kutuzov's carriage and the exhausted saddle horses of his +suite, with their Cossacks who were talking loudly together, Prince +Andrew entered the passage. Kutuzov himself, he was told, was in the +house with Prince Bagration and Weyrother. Weyrother was the +Austrian general who had succeeded Schmidt. In the passage little +Kozlovski was squatting on his heels in front of a clerk. The clerk, +with cuffs turned up, was hastily writing at a tub turned bottom +upwards. Kozlovski's face looked worn- he too had evidently not +slept all night. He glanced at Prince Andrew and did not even nod to +him. + +"Second line... have you written it?" he continued dictating to +the clerk. "The Kiev Grenadiers, Podolian..." + +"One can't write so fast, your honor," said the clerk, glancing +angrily and disrespectfully at Kozlovski. + +Through the door came the sounds of Kutuzov's voice, excited and +dissatisfied, interrupted by another, an unfamiliar voice. From the +sound of these voices, the inattentive way Kozlovski looked at him, +the disrespectful manner of the exhausted clerk, the fact that the +clerk and Kozlovski were squatting on the floor by a tub so near to +the commander in chief, and from the noisy laughter of the Cossacks +holding the horses near the window, Prince Andrew felt that +something important and disastrous was about to happen. + +He turned to Kozlovski with urgent questions. + +"Immediately, Prince," said Kozlovski. "Dispositions for Bagration." + +"What about capitulation?" + +"Nothing of the sort. Orders are issued for a battle." + +Prince Andrew moved toward the door from whence voices were heard. +Just as he was going to open it the sounds ceased, the door opened, +and Kutuzov with his eagle nose and puffy face appeared in the +doorway. Prince Andrew stood right in front of Kutuzov but the +expression of the commander in chief's one sound eye showed him to +be so preoccupied with thoughts and anxieties as to be oblivious of +his presence. He looked straight at his adjutant's face without +recognizing him. + +"Well, have you finished?" said he to Kozlovski. + +"One moment, your excellency." + +Bagration, a gaunt middle-aged man of medium height with a firm, +impassive face of Oriental type, came out after the commander in +chief. + +"I have the honor to present myself," repeated Prince Andrew +rather loudly, handing Kutuzov an envelope. + +Ah, from Vienna? Very good. Later, later!" + +Kutuzov went out into the porch with Bagration. + +"Well, good-by, Prince," said he to Bagration. "My blessing, and may +Christ be with you in your great endeavor!" + +His face suddenly softened and tears came into his eyes. With his +left hand he drew Bagration toward him, and with his right, on which +he wore a ring, he made the sign of the cross over him with a +gesture evidently habitual, offering his puffy cheek, but Bagration +kissed him on the neck instead. + +"Christ be with you!" Kutuzov repeated and went toward his carriage. +"Get in with me," said he to Bolkonski. + +"Your excellency, I should like to be of use here. Allow me to +remain with Prince Bagration's detachment." + +"Get in," said Kutuzov, and noticing that Bolkonski still delayed, +he added: "I need good officers myself, need them myself!" + +They got into the carriage and drove for a few minutes in silence. + +"There is still much, much before us," he said, as if with an old +man's penetration he understood all that was passing in Bolkonski's +mind. "If a tenth part of his detachment returns I shall thank God," +he added as if speaking to himself. + +Prince Andrew glanced at Kutuzov's face only a foot distant from him +and involuntarily noticed the carefully washed seams of the scar +near his temple, where an Ismail bullet had pierced his skull, and the +empty eye socket. "Yes, he has a right to speak so calmly of those +men's death," thought Bolkonski. + +"That is why I beg to be sent to that detachment," he said. + +Kutuzov did not reply. He seemed to have forgotten what he had +been saying, and sat plunged in thought. Five minutes later, gently +swaying on the soft springs of the carriage, he turned to Prince +Andrew. There was not a trace of agitation on his face. With +delicate irony he questioned Prince Andrew about the details of his +interview with the Emperor, about the remarks he had heard at court +concerning the Krems affair, and about some ladies they both knew. + +CHAPTER XIV + +On November 1 Kutuzov had received, through a spy, news that the +army he commanded was in an almost hopeless position. The spy reported +that the French, after crossing the bridge at Vienna, were advancing +in immense force upon Kutuzov's line of communication with the +troops that were arriving from Russia. If Kutuzov decided to remain at +Krems, Napoleon's army of one hundred and fifty thousand men would cut +him off completely and surround his exhausted army of forty +thousand, and he would find himself in the position of Mack at Ulm. If +Kutuzov decided to abandon the road connecting him with the troops +arriving from Russia, he would have to march with no road into unknown +parts of the Bohemian mountains, defending himself against superior +forces of the enemy and abandoning all hope of a junction with +Buxhowden. If Kutuzov decided to retreat along the road from Krems +to Olmutz, to unite with the troops arriving from Russia, he risked +being forestalled on that road by the French who had crossed the +Vienna bridge, and encumbered by his baggage and transport, having +to accept battle on the march against an enemy three times as +strong, who would hem him in from two sides. + +Kutuzov chose this latter course. + +The French, the spy reported, having crossed the Vienna bridge, were +advancing by forced marches toward Znaim, which lay sixty-six miles +off on the line of Kutuzov's retreat. If he reached Znaim before the +French, there would be great hope of saving the army; to let the +French forestall him at Znaim meant the exposure of his whole army +to a disgrace such as that of Ulm, or to utter destruction. But to +forestall the French with his whole army was impossible. The road +for the French from Vienna to Znaim was shorter and better than the +road for the Russians from Krems to Znaim. + +The night he received the news, Kutuzov sent Bagration's vanguard, +four thousand strong, to the right across the hills from the +Krems-Znaim to the Vienna-Znaim road. Bagration was to make this march +without resting, and to halt facing Vienna with Znaim to his rear, and +if he succeeded in forestalling the French he was to delay them as +long as possible. Kutuzov himself with all his transport took the road +to Znaim. + +Marching thirty miles that stormy night across roadless hills, +with his hungry, ill-shod soldiers, and losing a third of his men as +stragglers by the way, Bagration came out on the Vienna-Znaim road +at Hollabrunn a few hours ahead of the French who were approaching +Hollabrunn from Vienna. Kutuzov with his transport had still to +march for some days before he could reach Znaim. Hence Bagration +with his four thousand hungry, exhausted men would have to detain +for days the whole enemy army that came upon him at Hollabrunn, +which was clearly impossible. But a freak of fate made the +impossible possible. The success of the trick that had placed the +Vienna bridge in the hands of the French without a fight led Murat +to try to deceive Kutuzov in a similar way. Meeting Bagration's weak +detachment on the Znaim road he supposed it to be Kutuzov's whole +army. To be able to crush it absolutely he awaited the arrival of +the rest of the troops who were on their way from Vienna, and with +this object offered a three days' truce on condition that both +armies should remain in position without moving. Murat declared that +negotiations for peace were already proceeding, and that he +therefore offered this truce to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Count +Nostitz, the Austrian general occupying the advanced posts, believed +Murat's emissary and retired, leaving Bagration's division exposed. +Another emissary rode to the Russian line to announce the peace +negotiations and to offer the Russian army the three days' truce. +Bagration replied that he was not authorized either to accept or +refuse a truce and sent his adjutant to Kutuzov to report the offer he +had received. + +A truce was Kutuzov's sole chance of gaining time, giving +Bagration's exhausted troops some rest, and letting the transport +and heavy convoys (whose movements were concealed from the French) +advance if but one stage nearer Znaim. The offer of a truce gave the +only, and a quite unexpected, chance of saving the army. On +receiving the news he immediately dispatched Adjutant General +Wintzingerode, who was in attendance on him, to the enemy camp. +Wintzingerode was not merely to agree to the truce but also to offer +terms of capitulation, and meanwhile Kutuzov sent his adjutants back +to hasten to the utmost the movements of the baggage trains of the +entire army along the Krems-Znaim road. Bagration's exhausted and +hungry detachment, which alone covered this movement of the +transport and of the whole army, had to remain stationary in face of +an enemy eight times as strong as itself. + +Kutuzov's expectations that the proposals of capitulation (which +were in no way binding) might give time for part of the transport to +pass, and also that Murat's mistake would very soon be discovered, +proved correct. As soon as Bonaparte (who was at Schonbrunn, sixteen +miles from Hollabrunn) received Murat's dispatch with the proposal +of a truce and a capitulation, he detected a ruse and wrote the +following letter to Murat: + +Schonbrunn, 25th Brumaire, 1805, + +at eight o'clock in the morning + +To PRINCE MURAT, + +I cannot find words to express to you my displeasure. You command +only my advance guard, and have no right to arrange an armistice +without my order. You are causing me to lose the fruits of a campaign. +Break the armistice immediately and march on the enemy. Inform him +that the general who signed that capitulation had no right to do so, +and that no one but the Emperor of Russia has that right. + +If, however, the Emperor of Russia ratifies that convention, I +will ratify it; but it is only a trick. March on, destroy the +Russian army.... You are in a position to seize its baggage and +artillery. + +The Russian Emperor's aide-de-camp is an impostor. Officers are +nothing when they have no powers; this one had none.... The +Austrians let themselves be tricked at the crossing of the Vienna +bridge, you are letting yourself be tricked by an aide-de-camp of +the Emperor. + +NAPOLEON + +Bonaparte's adjutant rode full gallop with this menacing letter to +Murat. Bonaparte himself, not trusting to his generals, moved with all +the Guards to the field of battle, afraid of letting a ready victim +escape, and Bagration's four thousand men merrily lighted campfires, +dried and warmed themselves, cooked their porridge for the first +time for three days, and not one of them knew or imagined what was +in store for him. + +CHAPTER XV + +Between three and four o'clock in the afternoon Prince Andrew, who +had persisted in his request to Kutuzov, arrived at Grunth and +reported himself to Bagration. Bonaparte's adjutant had not yet +reached Murat's detachment and the battle had not yet begun. In +Bagration's detachment no one knew anything of the general position of +affairs. They talked of peace but did not believe in its +possibility; others talked of a battle but also disbelieved in the +nearness of an engagement. Bagration, knowing Bolkonski to be a +favorite and trusted adjutant, received him with distinction and +special marks of favor, explaining to him that there would probably be +an engagement that day or the next, and giving him full liberty to +remain with him during the battle or to join the rearguard and have an +eye on the order of retreat, "which is also very important." + +"However, there will hardly be an engagement today," said +Bagration as if to reassure Prince Andrew. + +"If he is one of the ordinary little staff dandies sent to earn a +medal he can get his reward just as well in the rearguard, but if he +wishes to stay with me, let him... he'll be of use here if he's a +brave officer," thought Bagration. Prince Andrew, without replying, +asked the prince's permission to ride round the position to see the +disposition of the forces, so as to know his bearings should he be +sent to execute an order. The officer on duty, a handsome, elegantly +dressed man with a diamond ring on his forefinger, who was fond of +speaking French though he spoke it badly, offered to conduct Prince +Andrew. + +On all sides they saw rain-soaked officers with dejected faces who +seemed to be seeking something, and soldiers dragging doors, +benches, and fencing from the village. + +"There now, Prince! We can't stop those fellows," said the staff +officer pointing to the soldiers. "The officers don't keep them in +hand. And there," he pointed to a sutler's tent, "they crowd in and +sit. This morning I turned them all out and now look, it's full again. +I must go there, Prince, and scare them a bit. It won't take a +moment." + +"Yes, let's go in and I will get myself a roll and some cheese," +said Prince Andrew who had not yet had time to eat anything. + +"Why didn't you mention it, Prince? I would have offered you +something." + +They dismounted and entered the tent. Several officers, with flushed +and weary faces, were sitting at the table eating and drinking. + +"Now what does this mean, gentlemen?" said the staff officer, in the +reproachful tone of a man who has repeated the same thing more than +once. "You know it won't do to leave your posts like this. The +prince gave orders that no one should leave his post. Now you, +Captain," and he turned to a thin, dirty little artillery officer +who without his boots (he had given them to the canteen keeper to +dry), in only his stockings, rose when they entered, smiling not +altogether comfortably. + +"Well, aren't you ashamed of yourself, Captain Tushin?" he +continued. "One would think that as an artillery officer you would set +a good example, yet here you are without your boots! The alarm will be +sounded and you'll be in a pretty position without your boots!" (The +staff officer smiled.) "Kindly return to your posts, gentlemen, all of +you, all!" he added in a tone of command. + +Prince Andrew smiled involuntarily as he looked at the artillery +officer Tushin, who silent and smiling, shifting from one stockinged +foot to the other, glanced inquiringly with his large, intelligent, +kindly eyes from Prince Andrew to the staff officer. + +"The soldiers say it feels easier without boots," said Captain +Tushin smiling shyly in his uncomfortable position, evidently +wishing to adopt a jocular tone. But before he had finished he felt +that his jest was unacceptable and had not come off. He grew confused. + +"Kindly return to your posts," said the staff officer trying to +preserve his gravity. + +Prince Andrew glanced again at the artillery officer's small figure. +There was something peculiar about it, quite unsoldierly, rather +comic, but extremely attractive. + +The staff officer and Prince Andrew mounted their horses and rode +on. + +Having ridden beyond the village, continually meeting and overtaking +soldiers and officers of various regiments, they saw on their left +some entrenchments being thrown up, the freshly dug clay of which +showed up red. Several battalions of soldiers, in their shirt +sleeves despite the cold wind, swarmed in these earthworks like a host +of white ants; spadefuls of red clay were continually being thrown +up from behind the bank by unseen hands. Prince Andrew and the officer +rode up, looked at the entrenchment, and went on again. Just behind it +they came upon some dozens of soldiers, continually replaced by +others, who ran from the entrenchment. They had to hold their noses +and put their horses to a trot to escape from the poisoned +atmosphere of these latrines. + +"Voila l'agrement des camps, monsieur le Prince,"~^ said the staff +officer. + +^~ "This is a pleasure one gets in camp, Prince." + +They rode up the opposite hill. From there the French could +already be seen. Prince Andrew stopped and began examining the +position. + +"That's our battery," said the staff officer indicating the +highest point. "It's in charge of the queer fellow we saw without +his boots. You can see everything from there; let's go there, Prince." + +"Thank you very much, I will go on alone," said Prince Andrew, +wishing to rid himself of this staff officer's company, "please +don't trouble yourself further." + +The staff officer remained behind and Prince Andrew rode on alone. + +The farther forward and nearer the enemy he went, the more orderly +and cheerful were the troops. The greatest disorder and depression had +been in the baggage train he had passed that morning on the Znaim road +seven miles away from the French. At Grunth also some apprehension and +alarm could be felt, but the nearer Prince Andrew came to the French +lines the more confident was the appearance of our troops. The +soldiers in their greatcoats were ranged in lines, the sergeants major +and company officers were counting the men, poking the last man in +each section in the ribs and telling him to hold his hand up. Soldiers +scattered over the whole place were dragging logs and brushwood and +were building shelters with merry chatter and laughter; around the +fires sat others, dressed and undressed, drying their shirts and leg +bands or mending boots or overcoats and crowding round the boilers and +porridge cookers. In one company dinner was ready, and the soldiers +were gazing eagerly at the steaming boiler, waiting till the sample, +which a quartermaster sergeant was carrying in a wooden bowl to an +officer who sat on a log before his shelter, had been tasted. + +Another company, a lucky one for not all the companies had vodka, +crowded round a pock-marked, broad-shouldered sergeant major who, +tilting a keg, filled one after another the canteen lids held out to +him. The soldiers lifted the canteen lids to their lips with +reverential faces, emptied them, rolling the vodka in their mouths, +and walked away from the sergeant major with brightened expressions, +licking their lips and wiping them on the sleeves of their greatcoats. +All their faces were as serene as if all this were happening at home +awaiting peaceful encampment, and not within sight of the enemy before +an action in which at least half of them would be left on the field. +After passing a chasseur regiment and in the lines of the Kiev +grenadiers- fine fellows busy with similar peaceful affairs- near +the shelter of the regimental commander, higher than and different +from the others, Prince Andrew came out in front of a platoon of +grenadiers before whom lay a naked man. Two soldiers held him while +two others were flourishing their switches and striking him +regularly on his bare back. The man shrieked unnaturally. A stout +major was pacing up and down the line, and regardless of the screams +kept repeating: + +"It's a shame for a soldier to steal; a soldier must be honest, +honorable, and brave, but if he robs his fellows there is no honor +in him, he's a scoundrel. Go on! Go on!" + +So the swishing sound of the strokes, and the desperate but +unnatural screams, continued. + +"Go on, go on!" said the major. + +A young officer with a bewildered and pained expression on his +face stepped away from the man and looked round inquiringly at the +adjutant as he rode by. + +Prince Andrew, having reached the front line, rode along it. Our +front line and that of the enemy were far apart on the right and +left flanks, but in the center where the men with a flag of truce +had passed that morning, the lines were so near together that the +men could see one another's faces and speak to one another. Besides +the soldiers who formed the picket line on either side, there were +many curious onlookers who, jesting and laughing, stared at their +strange foreign enemies. + +Since early morning- despite an injunction not to approach the +picket line- the officers had been unable to keep sight-seers away. +The soldiers forming the picket line, like showmen exhibiting a +curiosity, no longer looked at the French but paid attention to the +sight-seers and grew weary waiting to be relieved. Prince Andrew +halted to have a look at the French. + +"Look! Look there!" one soldier was saying to another, pointing to a +Russian musketeer who had gone up to the picket line with an officer +and was rapidly and excitedly talking to a French grenadier. "Hark +to him jabbering! Fine, isn't it? It's all the Frenchy can do to +keep up with him. There now, Sidorov!" + +"Wait a bit and listen. It's fine!" answered Sidorov, who was +considered an adept at French. + +The soldier to whom the laughers referred was Dolokhov. Prince +Andrew recognized him and stopped to listen to what he was saying. +Dolokhov had come from the left flank where their regiment was +stationed, with his captain. + +"Now then, go on, go on!" incited the officer, bending forward and +trying not to lose a word of the speech which was incomprehensible +to him. "More, please: more! What's he saying?" + +Dolokhov did not answer the captain; he had been drawn into a hot +dispute with the French grenadier. They were naturally talking about +the campaign. The Frenchman, confusing the Austrians with the +Russians, was trying to prove that the Russians had surrendered and +had fled all the way from Ulm, while Dolokhov maintained that the +Russians had not surrendered but had beaten the French. + +"We have orders to drive you off here, and we shall drive you +off," said Dolokhov. + +"Only take care you and your Cossacks are not all captured!" said +the French grenadier. + +The French onlookers and listeners laughed. + +"We'll make you dance as we did under Suvorov...,"~^ said Dolokhov. + +^~ "On vous fera danser." + +"Qu' est-ce qu'il chante?"~^ asked a Frenchman. + +^~ "What's he singing about?" + +"It's ancient history," said another, guessing that it referred to a +former war. "The Emperor will teach your Suvara as he has taught the +others..." + +"Bonaparte..." began Dolokhov, but the Frenchman interrupted him. + +"Not Bonaparte. He is the Emperor! Sacre nom...!" cried he angrily. + +"The devil skin your Emperor." + +And Dolokhov swore at him in coarse soldier's Russian and +shouldering his musket walked away. + +"Let us go, Ivan Lukich," he said to the captain. + +"Ah, that's the way to talk French," said the picket soldiers. "Now, +Sidorov, you have a try!" + +Sidorov, turning to the French, winked, and began to jabber +meaningless sounds very fast: "Kari, mala, tafa, safi, muter, +Kaska," he said, trying to give an expressive intonation to his voice. + +"Ho! ho! ho! Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ouh! ouh!" came peals of such healthy +and good-humored laughter from the soldiers that it infected the +French involuntarily, so much so that the only thing left to do seemed +to be to unload the muskets, muskets, explode the ammunition, and +all return home as quickly as possible. + +But the guns remained loaded, the loopholes in blockhouses and +entrenchments looked out just as menacingly, and the unlimbered cannon +confronted one another as before. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Having ridden round the whole line from right flank to left, +Prince Andrew made his way up to the battery from which the staff +officer had told him the whole field could be seen. Here he +dismounted, and stopped beside the farthest of the four unlimbered +cannon. Before the guns an artillery sentry was pacing up and down; he +stood at attention when the officer arrived, but at a sign resumed his +measured, monotonous pacing. Behind the guns were their limbers and +still farther back picket ropes and artillerymen's bonfires. To the +left, not far from the farthest cannon, was a small, newly constructed +wattle shed from which came the sound of officers' voices in eager +conversation. + +It was true that a view over nearly the whole Russian position and +the greater part of the enemy's opened out from this battery. Just +facing it, on the crest of the opposite hill, the village of Schon +Grabern could be seen, and in three places to left and right the +French troops amid the smoke of their campfires, the greater part of +whom were evidently in the village itself and behind the hill. To +the left from that village, amid the smoke, was something resembling a +battery, but it was impossible to see it clearly with the naked eye. +Our right flank was posted on a rather steep incline which dominated +the French position. Our infantry were stationed there, and at the +farthest point the dragoons. In the center, where Tushin's battery +stood and from which Prince Andrew was surveying the position, was the +easiest and most direct descent and ascent to the brook separating +us from Schon Grabern. On the left our troops were close to a copse, +in which smoked the bonfires of our infantry who were felling wood. +The French line was wider than ours, and it was plain that they +could easily outflank us on both sides. Behind our position was a +steep and deep dip, making it difficult for artillery and cavalry to +retire. Prince Andrew took out his notebook and, leaning on the +cannon, sketched a plan of the position. He made some notes on two +points, intending to mention them to Bagration. His idea was, first, +to concentrate all the artillery in the center, and secondly, to +withdraw the cavalry to the other side of the dip. Prince Andrew, +being always near the commander in chief, closely following the mass +movements and general orders, and constantly studying historical +accounts of battles, involuntarily pictured to himself the course of +events in the forthcoming action in broad outline. He imagined only +important possibilities: "If the enemy attacks the right flank," he +said to himself, "the Kiev grenadiers and the Podolsk chasseurs must +hold their position till reserves from the center come up. In that +case the dragoons could successfully make a flank counterattack. If +they attack our center we, having the center battery on this high +ground, shall withdraw the left flank under its cover, and retreat +to the dip by echelons." So he reasoned.... All the time he had been +beside the gun, he had heard the voices of the officers distinctly, +but as often happens had not understood a word of what they were +saying. Suddenly, however, he was struck by a voice coming from the +shed, and its tone was so sincere that he could not but listen. + +"No, friend," said a pleasant and, as it seemed to Prince Andrew, +a familiar voice, "what I say is that if it were possible to know what +is beyond death, none of us would be afraid of it. That's so, friend." + +Another, a younger voice, interrupted him: "Afraid or not, you can't +escape it anyhow." + +"All the same, one is afraid! Oh, you clever people," said a third +manly voice interrupting them both. "Of course you artillery men are +very wise, because you can take everything along with you- vodka and +snacks." + +And the owner of the manly voice, evidently an infantry officer, +laughed. + +"Yes, one is afraid," continued the first speaker, he of the +familiar voice. "One is afraid of the unknown, that's what it is. +Whatever we may say about the soul going to the sky... we know there +is no sky but only an atmosphere." + +The manly voice again interrupted the artillery officer. + +"Well, stand us some of your herb vodka, Tushin," it said. + +"Why," thought Prince Andrew, "that's the captain who stood up in +the sutler's hut without his boots." He recognized the agreeable, +philosophizing voice with pleasure. + +"Some herb vodka? Certainly!" said Tushin. "But still, to conceive a +future life..." + +He did not finish. Just then there was a whistle in the air; +nearer and nearer, faster and louder, louder and faster, a cannon +ball, as if it had not finished saying what was necessary, thudded +into the ground near the shed with super human force, throwing up a +mass of earth. The ground seemed to groan at the terrible impact. + +And immediately Tushin, with a short pipe in the corner of his mouth +and his kind, intelligent face rather pale, rushed out of the shed +followed by the owner of the manly voice, a dashing infantry officer +who hurried off to his company, buttoning up his coat as he ran. + +CHAPTER XVII + +Mounting his horse again Prince Andrew lingered with the battery, +looking at the puff from the gun that had sent the ball. His eyes +ran rapidly over the wide space, but he only saw that the hitherto +motionless masses of the French now swayed and that there really was a +battery to their left. The smoke above it had not yet dispersed. Two +mounted Frenchmen, probably adjutants, were galloping up the hill. A +small but distinctly visible enemy column was moving down the hill, +probably to strengthen the front line. The smoke of the first shot had +not yet dispersed before another puff appeared, followed by a +report. The battle had begun! Prince Andrew turned his horse and +galloped back to Grunth to find Prince Bagration. He heard the +cannonade behind him growing louder and more frequent. Evidently our +guns had begun to reply. From the bottom of the slope, where the +parleys had taken place, came the report of musketry. + +Lemarrois had just arrived at a gallop with Bonaparte's stern +letter, and Murat, humiliated and anxious to expiate his fault, had at +once moved his forces to attack the center and outflank both the +Russian wings, hoping before evening and before the arrival of the +Emperor to crush the contemptible detachment that stood before him. + +"It has begun. Here it is!" thought Prince Andrew, feeling the blood +rush to his heart. "But where and how will my Toulon present itself?" + +Passing between the companies that had been eating porridge and +drinking vodka a quarter of an hour before, he saw everywhere the same +rapid movement of soldiers forming ranks and getting their muskets +ready, and on all their faces he recognized the same eagerness that +filled his heart. "It has begun! Here it is, dreadful but +enjoyable!" was what the face of each soldier and each officer +seemed to say. + +Before he had reached the embankments that were being thrown up, +he saw, in the light of the dull autumn evening, mounted men coming +toward him. The foremost, wearing a Cossack cloak and lambskin cap and +riding a white horse, was Prince Bagration. Prince Andrew stopped, +waiting for him to come up; Prince Bagration reined in his horse and +recognizing Prince Andrew nodded to him. He still looked ahead while +Prince Andrew told him what he had seen. + +The feeling, "It has begun! Here it is!" was seen even on Prince +Bagration's hard brown face with its half-closed, dull, sleepy eyes. +Prince Andrew gazed with anxious curiosity at that impassive face +and wished he could tell what, if anything, this man was thinking +and feeling at that moment. "Is there anything at all behind that +impassive face?" Prince Andrew asked himself as he looked. Prince +Bagration bent his head in sign of agreement with what Prince Andrew +told him, and said, "Very good!" in a tone that seemed to imply that +everything that took place and was reported to him was exactly what he +had foreseen. Prince Andrew, out of breath with his rapid ride, +spoke quickly. Prince Bagration, uttering his words with an Oriental +accent, spoke particularly slowly, as if to impress the fact that +there was no need to hurry. However, he put his horse to a trot in the +direction of Tushin's battery. Prince Andrew followed with the +suite. Behind Prince Bagration rode an officer of the suite, the +prince's personal adjutant, Zherkov, an orderly officer, the staff +officer on duty, riding a fine bobtailed horse, and a civilian- an +accountant who had asked permission to be present at the battle out of +curiosity. The accountant, a stout, full-faced man, looked around +him with a naive smile of satisfaction and presented a strange +appearance among the hussars, Cossacks, and adjutants, in his camlet +coat, as he jolted on his horse with a convoy officer's saddle. + +"He wants to see a battle," said Zherkov to Bolkonski, pointing to +the accountant, "but he feels a pain in the pit of his stomach +already." + +"Oh, leave off!" said the accountant with a beaming but rather +cunning smile, as if flattered at being made the subject of +Zherkov's joke, and purposely trying to appear stupider than he really +was. + +"It is very strange, mon Monsieur Prince," said the staff officer. +(He remembered that in French there is some peculiar way of addressing +a prince, but could not get it quite right.) + +By this time they were all approaching Tushin's battery, and a +ball struck the ground in front of them. + +"What's that that has fallen?" asked the accountant with a naive +smile. + +"A French pancake," answered Zherkov. + +"So that's what they hit with?" asked the accountant. "How awful!" + +He seemed to swell with satisfaction. He had hardly finished +speaking when they again heard an unexpectedly violent whistling which +suddenly ended with a thud into something soft... f-f-flop! and a +Cossack, riding a little to their right and behind the accountant, +crashed to earth with his horse. Zherkov and the staff officer bent +over their saddles and turned their horses away. The accountant +stopped, facing the Cossack, and examined him with attentive +curiosity. The Cossack was dead, but the horse still struggled. + +Prince Bagration screwed up his eyes, looked round, and, seeing +the cause of the confusion, turned away with indifference, as if to +say, "Is it worth while noticing trifles?" He reined in his horse with +the case of a skillful rider and, slightly bending over, disengaged +his saber which had caught in his cloak. It was an old-fashioned saber +of a kind no longer in general use. Prince Andrew remembered the story +of Suvorov giving his saber to Bagration in Italy, and the +recollection was particularly pleasant at that moment. They had +reached the battery at which Prince Andrew had been when he examined +the battlefield. + +"Whose company?" asked Prince Bagration of an artilleryman +standing by the ammunition wagon. + +He asked, "Whose company?" but he really meant, "Are you +frightened here?" and the artilleryman understood him. + +"Captain Tushin's, your excellency!" shouted the red-haired, +freckled gunner in a merry voice, standing to attention. + +"Yes, yes," muttered Bagration as if considering something, and he +rode past the limbers to the farthest cannon. + +As he approached, a ringing shot issued from it deafening him and +his suite, and in the smoke that suddenly surrounded the gun they +could see the gunners who had seized it straining to roll it quickly +back to its former position. A huge, broad-shouldered gunner, Number +One, holding a mop, his legs far apart, sprang to the wheel; while +Number Two with a trembling hand placed a charge in the cannon's +mouth. The short, round-shouldered Captain Tushin, stumbling over +the tail of the gun carriage, moved forward and, not noticing the +general, looked out shading his eyes with his small hand. + +"Lift it two lines more and it will be just right," cried he in a +feeble voice to which he tried to impart a dashing note, ill suited to +his weak figure. "Number Two!" he squeaked. "Fire, Medvedev!" + +Bagration called to him, and Tushin, raising three fingers to his +cap with a bashful and awkward gesture not at all like a military +salute but like a priest's benediction, approached the general. Though +Tushin's guns had been intended to cannonade the valley, he was firing +incendiary balls at the village of Schon Grabern visible just +opposite, in front of which large masses of French were advancing. + +No one had given Tushin orders where and at what to fire, but +after consulting his sergeant major, Zakharchenko, for whom he had +great respect, he had decided that it would be a good thing to set +fire to the village. "Very good!" said Bagration in reply to the +officer's report, and began deliberately to examine the whole +battlefield extended before him. The French had advanced nearest on +our right. Below the height on which the Kiev regiment was +stationed, in the hollow where the rivulet flowed, the soul-stirring +rolling and crackling of musketry was heard, and much farther to the +right beyond the dragoons, the officer of the suite pointed out to +Bagration a French column that was outflanking us. To the left the +horizon bounded by the adjacent wood. Prince Bagration ordered two +battalions from the center to be sent to reinforce the right flank. +The officer of the suite ventured to remark to the prince that if +these battalions went away, the guns would remain without support. +Prince Bagration turned to the officer and with his dull eyes looked +at him in silence. It seemed to Prince Andrew that the officer's +remark was just and that really no answer could be made to it. But +at that moment an adjutant galloped up with a message from the +commander of the regiment in the hollow and news that immense masses +of the French were coming down upon them and that his regiment was +in disorder and was retreating upon the Kiev grenadiers. Prince +Bagration bowed his head in sign of assent and approval. He rode off +at a walk to the right and sent an adjutant to the dragoons with +orders to attack the French. But this adjutant returned half an hour +later with the news that the commander of the dragoons had already +retreated beyond the dip in the ground, as a heavy fire had been +opened on him and he was losing men uselessly, and so had hastened +to throw some sharpshooters into the wood. + +"Very good!" said Bagration. + +As he was leaving the battery, firing was heard on the left also, +and as it was too far to the left flank for him to have time to go +there himself, Prince Bagration sent Zherkov to tell the general in +command (the one who had paraded his regiment before Kutuzov at +Braunau) that he must retreat as quickly as possible behind the hollow +in the rear, as the right flank would probably not be able to +withstand the enemy's attack very long. About Tushin and the battalion +that had been in support of his battery all was forgotten. Prince +Andrew listened attentively to Bagration's colloquies with the +commanding officers and the orders he gave them and, to his +surprise, found that no orders were really given, but that Prince +Bagration tried to make it appear that everything done by necessity, +by accident, or by the will of subordinate commanders was done, if not +by his direct command, at least in accord with his intentions. +Prince Andrew noticed, however, that though what happened was due to +chance and was independent of the commander's will, owing to the +tact Bagration showed, his presence was very valuable. Officers who +approached him with disturbed countenances became calm; soldiers and +officers greeted him gaily, grew more cheerful in his presence, and +were evidently anxious to display their courage before him. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Prince Bagration, having reached the highest point of our right +flank, began riding downhill to where the roll of musketry was heard +but where on account of the smoke nothing could be seen. The nearer +they got to the hollow the less they could see but the more they +felt the nearness of the actual battlefield. They began to meet +wounded men. One with a bleeding head and no cap was being dragged +along by two soldiers who supported him under the arms. There was a +gurgle in his throat and he was spitting blood. A bullet had evidently +hit him in the throat or mouth. Another was walking sturdily by +himself but without his musket, groaning aloud and swinging his arm +which had just been hurt, while blood from it was streaming over his +greatcoat as from a bottle. He had that moment been wounded and his +face showed fear rather than suffering. Crossing a road they descended +a steep incline and saw several men lying on the ground; they also met +a crowd of soldiers some of whom were unwounded. The soldiers were +ascending the hill breathing heavily, and despite the general's +presence were talking loudly and gesticulating. In front of them +rows of gray cloaks were already visible through the smoke, and an +officer catching sight of Bagration rushed shouting after the crowd of +retreating soldiers, ordering them back. Bagration rode up to the +ranks along which shots crackled now here and now there, drowning +the sound of voices and the shouts of command. The whole air reeked +with smoke. The excited faces of the soldiers were blackened with +it. Some were using their ramrods, others putting powder on the +touchpans or taking charges from their pouches, while others were +firing, though who they were firing at could not be seen for the smoke +which there was no wind to carry away. A pleasant humming and +whistling of bullets were often heard. "What is this?" thought +Prince Andrew approaching the crowd of soldiers. "It can't be an +attack, for they are not moving; it can't be a square- for they are +not drawn up for that." + +The commander of the regiment, a thin, feeble-looking old man with a +pleasant smile- his eyelids drooping more than half over his old eyes, +giving him a mild expression, rode up to Bagration and welcomed him as +a host welcomes an honored guest. He reported that his regiment had +been attacked by French cavalry and that, though the attack had been +repulsed, he had lost more than half his men. He said the attack had +been repulsed, employing this military term to describe what had +occurred to his regiment, but in reality he did not himself know +what had happened during that half-hour to the troops entrusted to +him, and could not say with certainty whether the attack had been +repulsed or his regiment had been broken up. All he knew was that at +the commencement of the action balls and shells began flying all +over his regiment and hitting men and that afterwards someone had +shouted "Cavalry!" and our men had begun firing. They were still +firing, not at the cavalry which had disappeared, but at French +infantry who had come into the hollow and were firing at our men. +Prince Bagration bowed his head as a sign that this was exactly what +he had desired and expected. Turning to his adjutant he ordered him to +bring down the two battalions of the Sixth Chasseurs whom they had +just passed. Prince Andrew was struck by the changed expression on +Prince Bagration's face at this moment. It expressed the +concentrated and happy resolution you see on the face of a man who +on a hot day takes a final run before plunging into the water. The +dull, sleepy expression was no longer there, nor the affectation of +profound thought. The round, steady, hawk's eyes looked before him +eagerly and rather disdainfully, not resting on anything although +his movements were still slow and measured. + +The commander of the regiment turned to Prince Bagration, entreating +him to go back as it was too dangerous to remain where they were. +"Please, your excellency, for God's sake!" he kept saying, glancing +for support at an officer of the suite who turned away from him. +"There, you see!" and he drew attention to the bullets whistling, +singing, and hissing continually around them. He spoke in the tone +of entreaty and reproach that a carpenter uses to a gentleman who +has picked up an ax: "We are used to it, but you, sir, will blister +your hands." He spoke as if those bullets could not kill him, and +his half-closed eyes gave still more persuasiveness to his words. +The staff officer joined in the colonel's appeals, but Bagration did +not reply; he only gave an order to cease firing and re-form, so as to +give room for the two approaching battalions. While he was speaking, +the curtain of smoke that had concealed the hollow, driven by a rising +wind, began to move from right to left as if drawn by an invisible +hand, and the hill opposite, with the French moving about on it, +opened out before them. All eyes fastened involuntarily on this French +column advancing against them and winding down over the uneven ground. +One could already see the soldiers' shaggy caps, distinguish the +officers from the men, and see the standard flapping against its +staff. + +"They march splendidly," remarked someone in Bagration's suite. + +The head of the column had already descended into the hollow. The +clash would take place on this side of it... + +The remains of our regiment which had been in action rapidly +formed up and moved to the right; from behind it, dispersing the +laggards, came two battalions of the Sixth Chasseurs in fine order. +Before they had reached Bagration, the weighty tread of the mass of +men marching in step could be heard. On their left flank, nearest to +Bagration, marched a company commander, a fine round-faced man, with a +stupid and happy expression- the same man who had rushed out of the +wattle shed. At that moment he was clearly thinking of nothing but how +dashing a fellow he would appear as he passed the commander. + +With the self-satisfaction of a man on parade, he stepped lightly +with his muscular legs as if sailing along, stretching himself to +his full height without the smallest effort, his ease contrasting with +the heavy tread of the soldiers who were keeping step with him. He +carried close to his leg a narrow unsheathed sword (small, curved, and +not like a real weapon) and looked now at the superior officers and +now back at the men without losing step, his whole powerful body +turning flexibly. It was as if all the powers of his soul were +concentrated on passing the commander in the best possible manner, and +feeling that he was doing it well he was happy. "Left... left... +left..." he seemed to repeat to himself at each alternate step; and in +time to this, with stern but varied faces, the wall of soldiers +burdened with knapsacks and muskets marched in step, and each one of +these hundreds of soldiers seemed to be repeating to himself at each +alternate step, "Left... left... left..." A fat major skirted a +bush, puffing and falling out of step; a soldier who had fallen +behind, his face showing alarm at his defection, ran at a trot, +panting to catch up with his company. A cannon ball, cleaving the air, +flew over the heads of Bagration and his suite, and fell into the +column to the measure of "Left... left!" "Close up!" came the +company commander's voice in jaunty tones. The soldiers passed in a +semicircle round something where the ball had fallen, and an old +trooper on the flank, a noncommissioned officer who had stopped beside +the dead men, ran to catch up his line and, falling into step with a +hop, looked back angrily, and through the ominous silence and the +regular tramp of feet beating the ground in unison, one seemed to hear +left... left... left. + +"Well done, lads!" said Prince Bagration. + +"Glad to do our best, your ex'len-lency!" came a confused shout from +the ranks. A morose soldier marching on the left turned his eyes on +Bagration as he shouted, with an expression that seemed to say: "We +know that ourselves!" Another, without looking round, as though +fearing to relax, shouted with his mouth wide open and passed on. + +The order was given to halt and down knapsacks. + +Bagration rode round the ranks that had marched past him and +dismounted. He gave the reins to a Cossack, took off and handed over +his felt coat, stretched his legs, and set his cap straight. The +head of the French column, with its officers leading, appeared from +below the hill. + +"Forward, with God!" said Bagration, in a resolute, sonorous +voice, turning for a moment to the front line, and slightly swinging +his arms, he went forward uneasily over the rough field with the +awkward gait of a cavalryman. Prince Andrew felt that an invisible +power was leading him forward, and experienced great happiness. + +The French were already near. Prince Andrew, walking beside +Bagration, could clearly distinguish their bandoliers, red epaulets, +and even their faces. (He distinctly saw an old French officer who, +with gaitered legs and turned-out toes, climbed the hill with +difficulty.) Prince Bagration gave no further orders and silently +continued to walk on in front of the ranks. Suddenly one shot after +another rang out from the French, smoke appeared all along their +uneven ranks, and musket shots sounded. Several of our men fell, among +them the round-faced officer who had marched so gaily and +complacently. But at the moment the first report was heard, +Bagration looked round and shouted, "Hurrah!" + +"Hurrah- ah!- ah!" rang a long-drawn shout from our ranks, and +passing Bagration and racing one another they rushed in an irregular +but joyous and eager crowd down the hill at their disordered foe. + +CHAPTER XIX + +The attack of the Sixth Chasseurs secured the retreat of our right +flank. In the center Tushin's forgotten battery, which had managed +to set fire to the Schon Grabern village, delayed the French +advance. The French were putting out the fire which the wind was +spreading, and thus gave us time to retreat. The retirement of the +center to the other side of the dip in the ground at the rear was +hurried and noisy, but the different companies did not get mixed. +But our left- which consisted of the Azov and Podolsk infantry and the +Pavlograd hussars- was simultaneously attacked and outflanked by +superior French forces under Lannes and was thrown into confusion. +Bagration had sent Zherkov to the general commanding that left flank +with orders to retreat immediately. + +Zherkov, not removing his hand from his cap, turned his horse +about and galloped off. But no sooner had he left Bagration than his +courage failed him. He was seized by panic and could not go where it +was dangerous. + +Having reached the left flank, instead of going to the front where +the firing was, he began to look for the general and his staff where +they could not possibly be, and so did not deliver the order. + +The command of the left flank belonged by seniority to the commander +of the regiment Kutuzov had reviewed at Braunau and in which +Dolokhov was serving as a private. But the command of the extreme left +flank had been assigned to the commander of the Pavlograd regiment +in which Rostov was serving, and a misunderstanding arose. The two +commanders were much exasperated with one another and, long after +the action had begun on the right flank and the French were already +advancing, were engaged in discussion with the sole object of +offending one another. But the regiments, both cavalry and infantry, +were by no means ready for the impending action. From privates to +general they were not expecting a battle and were engaged in +peaceful occupations, the cavalry feeding the horses and the +infantry collecting wood. + +"He higher iss dan I in rank," said the German colonel of the +hussars, flushing and addressing an adjutant who had ridden up, "so +let him do what he vill, but I cannot sacrifice my hussars... +Bugler, sount ze retreat!" + +But haste was becoming imperative. Cannon and musketry, mingling +together, thundered on the right and in the center, while the +capotes of Lannes' sharpshooters were already seen crossing the +milldam and forming up within twice the range of a musket shot. The +general in command of the infantry went toward his horse with jerky +steps, and having mounted drew himself up very straight and tall and +rode to the Pavlograd commander. The commanders met with polite bows +but with secret malevolence in their hearts. + +"Once again, Colonel," said the general, "I can't leave half my +men in the wood. I beg of you, I beg of you," he repeated, "to +occupy the position and prepare for an attack." + +"I peg of you yourself not to mix in vot is not your business!" +suddenly replied the irate colonel. "If you vere in the cavalry..." + +"I am not in the cavalry, Colonel, but I am a Russian general and if +you are not aware of the fact..." + +"Quite avare, your excellency," suddenly shouted the colonel, +touching his horse and turning purple in the face. "Vill you be so +goot to come to ze front and see dat zis position iss no goot? I don't +vish to destroy my men for your pleasure!" + +"You forget yourself, Colonel. I am not considering my own +pleasure and I won't allow it to be said!" + +Taking the colonel's outburst as a challenge to his courage, the +general expanded his chest and rode, frowning, beside him to the front +line, as if their differences would be settled there amongst the +bullets. They reached the front, several bullets sped over them, and +they halted in silence. There was nothing fresh to be seen from the +line, for from where they had been before it had been evident that +it was impossible for cavalry to act among the bushes and broken +ground, as well as that the French were outflanking our left. The +general and colonel looked sternly and significantly at one another +like two fighting cocks preparing for battle, each vainly trying to +detect signs of cowardice in the other. Both passed the examination +successfully. As there was nothing to said, and neither wished to give +occasion for it to be alleged that he had been the first to leave +the range of fire, they would have remained there for a long time +testing each other's courage had it not been that just then they heard +the rattle of musketry and a muffled shout almost behind them in the +wood. The French had attacked the men collecting wood in the copse. It +was no longer possible for the hussars to retreat with the infantry. +They were cut off from the line of retreat on the left by the +French. However inconvenient the position, it was now necessary to +attack in order to cut away through for themselves. + +The squadron in which Rostov was serving had scarcely time to +mount before it was halted facing the enemy. Again, as at the Enns +bridge, there was nothing between the squadron and the enemy, and +again that terrible dividing line of uncertainty and fear- +resembling the line separating the living from the dead- lay between +them. All were conscious of this unseen line, and the question whether +they would they would cross it or not, and how they would cross it, +agitated them all. + +The colonel rode to the front, angrily gave some reply to +questions put to him by the officers, and, like a man desperately +insisting on having his own way, gave an order. No one said anything +definite, but the rumor of an attack spread through the squadron. +The command to form up rang out and the sabers whizzed as they were +drawn from their scabbards. Still no one moved. The troops of the left +flank, infantry and hussars alike, felt that the commander did not +himself know what to do, and this irresolution communicated itself +to the men. + +"If only they would be quick!" thought Rostov, feeling that at +last the time had come to experience the joy of an attack of which +he had so often heard from his fellow hussars. + +"Fo'ward, with God, lads!" rang out Denisov's voice. "At a twot +fo'ward!" + +The horses' croups began to sway in the front line. Rook pulled at +the reins and started of his own accord. + +Before him, on the right, Rostov saw the front lines of his +hussars and still farther ahead a dark line which he could not see +distinctly but took to be the enemy. Shots could be heard, but some +way off. + +"Faster!" came the word of command, and Rostov felt Rook's flanks +drooping as he broke into a gallop. + +Rostov anticipated his horse's movements and became more and more +elated. He had noticed a solitary tree ahead of him. This tree had +been in the middle of the line that had seemed so terrible- and now he +had crossed that line and not only was there nothing terrible, but +everything was becoming more and more happy and animated. "Oh, how I +will slash at him!" thought Rostov, gripping the hilt of his saber. + +"Hur-a-a-a-ah!" came a roar of voices. "Let anyone come my way now," +thought Rostov driving his spurs into Rook and letting him go at a +full gallop so that he outstripped the others. Ahead, the enemy was +already visible. Suddenly something like a birch broom seemed to sweep +over the squadron. Rostov raised his saber, ready to strike, but at +that instant the trooper Nikitenko, who was galloping ahead, shot away +from him, and Rostov felt as in a dream that he continued to be +carried forward with unnatural speed but yet stayed on the same +spot. From behind him Bondarchuk, an hussar he knew, jolted against +him and looked angrily at him. Bondarchuk's horse swerved and galloped +past. + +"How is it I am not moving? I have fallen, I am killed!" Rostov +asked and answered at the same instant. He was alone in the middle +of a field. Instead of the moving horses and hussars' backs, he saw +nothing before him but the motionless earth and the stubble around +him. There was warm blood under his arm. "No, I am wounded and the +horse is killed." Rook tried to rise on his forelegs but fell back, +pinning his rider's leg. Blood was flowing from his head; he struggled +but could not rise. Rostov also tried to rise but fell back, his +sabretache having become entangled in the saddle. Where our men +were, and where the French, he did not know. There was no one near. + +Having disentangled his leg, he rose. "Where, on which side, was now +the line that had so sharply divided the two armies?" he asked himself +and could not answer. "Can something bad have happened to me?" he +wondered as he got up: and at that moment he felt that something +superfluous was hanging on his benumbed left arm. The wrist felt as if +it were not his. He examined his hand carefully, vainly trying to find +blood on it. "Ah, here are people coming," he thought joyfully, seeing +some men running toward him. "They will help me!" In front came a +man wearing a strange shako and a blue cloak, swarthy, sunburned, +and with a hooked nose. Then came two more, and many more running +behind. One of them said something strange, not in Russian. In among +the hindmost of these men wearing similar shakos was a Russian hussar. +He was being held by the arms and his horse was being led behind him. + +"It must be one of ours, a prisoner. Yes. Can it be that they will +take me too? Who are these men?" thought Rostov, scarcely believing +his eyes. "Can they be French?" He looked at the approaching +Frenchmen, and though but a moment before he had been galloping to get +at them and hack them to pieces, their proximity now seemed so awful +that he could not believe his eyes. "Who are they? Why are they +running? Can they be coming at me? And why? To kill me? Me whom +everyone is so fond of?" He remembered his mother's love for him, +and his family's, and his friends', and the enemy's intention to +kill him seemed impossible. "But perhaps they may do it!" For more +than ten seconds he stood not moving from the spot or realizing the +situation. The foremost Frenchman, the one with the hooked nose, was +already so close that the expression of his face could be seen. And +the excited, alien face of that man, his bayonet hanging down, holding +his breath, and running so lightly, frightened Rostov. He seized his +pistol and, instead of firing it, flung it at the Frenchman and ran +with all his might toward the bushes. He did not now run with the +feeling of doubt and conflict with which he had trodden the Enns +bridge, but with the feeling of a hare fleeing from the hounds. One +single sentiment, that of fear for his young and happy life, possessed +his whole being. Rapidly leaping the furrows, he fled across the field +with the impetuosity he used to show at catchplay, now and then +turning his good-natured, pale, young face to look back. A shudder +of terror went through him: "No, better not look," he thought, but +having reached the bushes he glanced round once more. The French had +fallen behind, and just as he looked round the first man changed his +run to a walk and, turning, shouted something loudly to a comrade +farther back. Rostov paused. "No, there's some mistake," thought he. +"They can't have wanted to kill me." But at the same time, his left +arm felt as heavy as if a seventy-pound weight were tied to it. He +could run no more. The Frenchman also stopped and took aim. Rostov +closed his eyes and stooped down. One bullet and then another whistled +past him. He mustered his last remaining strength, took hold of his +left hand with his right, and reached the bushes. Behind these were +some Russian sharpshooters. + +CHAPTER XX + +The infantry regiments that had been caught unawares in the +outskirts of the wood ran out of it, the different companies getting +mixed, and retreated as a disorderly crowd. One soldier, in his +fear, uttered the senseless cry, "Cut off!" that is so terrible in +battle, and that word infected the whole crowd with a feeling of +panic. + +"Surrounded! Cut off? We're lost!" shouted the fugitives. + +The moment he heard the firing and the cry from behind, the +general realized that something dreadful had happened to his regiment, +and the thought that he, an exemplary officer of many years' service +who had never been to blame, might be held responsible at headquarters +for negligence or inefficiency so staggered him that, forgetting the +recalcitrant cavalry colonel, his own dignity as a general, and +above all quite forgetting the danger and all regard for +self-preservation, he clutched the crupper of his saddle and, spurring +his horse, galloped to the regiment under a hail of bullets which fell +around, but fortunately missed him. His one desire was to know what +was happening and at any cost correct, or remedy, the mistake if he +had made one, so that he, an exemplary officer of twenty-two years' +service, who had never been censured, should not be held to blame. + +Having galloped safely through the French, he reached a field behind +the copse across which our men, regardless of orders, were running and +descending the valley. That moment of moral hesitation which decides +the fate of battles had arrived. Would this disorderly crowd of +soldiers attend to the voice of their commander, or would they, +disregarding him, continue their flight? Despite his desperate +shouts that used to seem so terrible to the soldiers, despite his +furious purple countenance distorted out of all likeness to his former +self, and the flourishing of his saber, the soldiers all continued +to run, talking, firing into the air, and disobeying orders. The moral +hesitation which decided the fate of battles was evidently culminating +in a panic. + +The general had a fit of coughing as a result of shouting and of the +powder smoke and stopped in despair. Everything seemed lost. But at +that moment the French who were attacking, suddenly and without any +apparent reason, ran back and disappeared from the outskirts, and +Russian sharpshooters showed themselves in the copse. It was +Timokhin's company, which alone had maintained its order in the wood +and, having lain in ambush in a ditch, now attacked the French +unexpectedly. Timokhin, armed only with a sword, had rushed at the +enemy with such a desperate cry and such mad, drunken determination +that, taken by surprise, the French had thrown down their muskets +and run. Dolokhov, running beside Timokhin, killed a Frenchman at +close quarters and was the first to seize the surrendering French +officer by his collar. Our fugitives returned, the battalions +re-formed, and the French who had nearly cut our left flank in half +were for the moment repulsed. Our reserve units were able to join +up, and the fight was at an end. The regimental commander and Major +Ekonomov had stopped beside a bridge, letting the retreating companies +pass by them, when a soldier came up and took hold of the +commander's stirrup, almost leaning against him. The man was wearing a +bluish coat of broadcloth, he had no knapsack or cap, his head was +bandaged, and over his shoulder a French munition pouch was slung. +He had an officer's sword in his hand. The soldier was pale, his +blue eyes looked impudently into the commander's face, and his lips +were smiling. Though the commander was occupied in giving instructions +to Major Ekonomov, he could not help taking notice of the soldier. + +"Your excellency, here are two trophies," said Dolokhov, pointing to +the French sword and pouch. "I have taken an officer prisoner. I +stopped the company." Dolokhov breathed heavily from weariness and +spoke in abrupt sentences. "The whole company can bear witness. I +beg you will remember this, your excellency!" + +"All right, all right," replied the commander, and turned to Major +Ekonomov. + +But Dolokhov did not go away; he untied the handkerchief around +his head, pulled it off, and showed the blood congealed on his hair. + +"A bayonet wound. I remained at the front. Remember, your +excellency!" + +Tushin's battery had been forgotten and only at the very end of +the action did Prince Bagration, still hearing the cannonade in the +center, send his orderly staff officer, and later Prince Andrew +also, to order the battery to retire as quickly as possible. When +the supports attached to Tushin's battery had been moved away in the +middle of the action by someone's order, the battery had continued +firing and was only not captured by the French because the enemy could +not surmise that anyone could have the effrontery to continue firing +from four quite undefended guns. On the contrary, the energetic action +of that battery led the French to suppose that here- in the center- +the main Russian forces were concentrated. Twice they had attempted to +attack this point, but on each occasion had been driven back by +grapeshot from the four isolated guns on the hillock. + +Soon after Prince Bagration had left him, Tushin had succeeded in +setting fire to Schon Grabern. + +"Look at them scurrying! It's burning! Just see the smoke! Fine! +Grand! Look at the smoke, the smoke!" exclaimed the artillerymen, +brightening up. + +All the guns, without waiting for orders, were being fired in the +direction of the conflagration. As if urging each other on, the +soldiers cried at each shot: "Fine! That's good! Look at it... Grand!" +The fire, fanned by the breeze, was rapidly spreading. The French +columns that had advanced beyond the village went back; but as +though in revenge for this failure, the enemy placed ten guns to the +right of the village and began firing them at Tushin's battery. + +In their childlike glee, aroused by the fire and their luck in +successfully cannonading the French, our artillerymen only noticed +this battery when two balls, and then four more, fell among our +guns, one knocking over two horses and another tearing off a +munition-wagon driver's leg. Their spirits once roused were, +however, not diminished, but only changed character. The horses were +replaced by others from a reserve gun carriage, the wounded were +carried away, and the four guns were turned against the ten-gun +battery. Tushin's companion officer had been killed at the beginning +of the engagement and within an hour seventeen of the forty men of the +guns' crews had been disabled, but the artillerymen were still as +merry and lively as ever. Twice they noticed the French appearing +below them, and then they fired grapeshot at them. + +Little Tushin, moving feebly and awkwardly, kept telling his orderly +to "refill my pipe for that one!" and then, scattering sparks from it, +ran forward shading his eyes with his small hand to look at the +French. + +"Smack at 'em, lads!" he kept saying, seizing the guns by the wheels +and working the screws himself. + +Amid the smoke, deafened by the incessant reports which always +made him jump, Tushin not taking his pipe from his mouth ran from +gun to gun, now aiming, now counting the charges, now giving orders +about replacing dead or wounded horses and harnessing fresh ones, +and shouting in his feeble voice, so high pitched and irresolute. +His face grew more and more animated. Only when a man was killed or +wounded did he frown and turn away from the sight, shouting angrily at +the men who, as is always the case, hesitated about lifting the +injured or dead. The soldiers, for the most part handsome fellows and, +as is always the case in an artillery company, a head and shoulders +taller and twice as broad as their officer- all looked at their +commander like children in an embarrassing situation, and the +expression on his face was invariably reflected on theirs. + +Owing to the terrible uproar and the necessity for concentration and +activity, Tushin did not experience the slightest unpleasant sense +of fear, and the thought that he might be killed or badly wounded +never occurred to him. On the contrary, he became more and more +elated. It seemed to him that it was a very long time ago, almost a +day, since he had first seen the enemy and fired the first shot, and +that the corner of the field he stood on was well-known and familiar +ground. Though he thought of everything, considered everything, and +did everything the best of officers could do in his position, he was +in a state akin to feverish delirium or drunkenness. + +From the deafening sounds of his own guns around him, the whistle +and thud of the enemy's cannon balls, from the flushed and +perspiring faces of the crew bustling round the guns, from the sight +of the blood of men and horses, from the little puffs of smoke on +the enemy's side (always followed by a ball flying past and striking +the earth, a man, a gun, a horse), from the sight of all these +things a fantastic world of his own had taken possession of his +brain and at that moment afforded him pleasure. The enemy's guns +were in his fancy not guns but pipes from which occasional puffs +were blown by an invisible smoker. + +"There... he's puffing again," muttered Tushin to himself, as a +small cloud rose from the hill and was borne in a streak to the left +by the wind. + +"Now look out for the ball... we'll throw it back." + +"What do you want, your honor?" asked an artilleryman, standing +close by, who heard him muttering. + +"Nothing... only a shell..." he answered. + +"Come along, our Matvevna!" he said to himself. "Matvevna"~^ was +the name his fancy gave to the farthest gun of the battery, which +was large and of an old pattern. The French swarming round their +guns seemed to him like ants. In that world, the handsome drunkard +Number One of the second gun's crew was "uncle"; Tushin looked at +him more often than at anyone else and took delight in his every +movement. The sound of musketry at the foot of the hill, now +diminishing, now increasing, seemed like someone's breathing. He +listened intently to the ebb and flow of these sounds. + +^~ Daughter of Matthew. + +"Ah! Breathing again, breathing!" he muttered to himself. + +He imagined himself as an enormously tall, powerful man who was +throwing cannon balls at the French with both hands. + +"Now then, Matvevna, dear old lady, don't let me down!" he was +saying as he moved from the gun, when a strange, unfamiliar voice +called above his head: "Captain Tushin! Captain!" + +Tushin turned round in dismay. It was the staff officer who had +turned him out of the booth at Grunth. He was shouting in a gasping +voice: + +"Are you mad? You have twice been ordered to retreat, and you..." + +"Why are they down on me?" thought Tushin, looking in alarm at his +superior. + +"I... don't..." he muttered, holding up two fingers to his cap. +"I..." + +But the staff officer did not finish what he wanted to say. A cannon +ball, flying close to him, caused him to duck and bend over his horse. +He paused, and just as he was about to say something more, another +ball stopped him. He turned his horse and galloped off. + +"Retire! All to retire!" he shouted from a distance. + +The soldiers laughed. A moment later, an adjutant arrived with the +same order. + +It was Prince Andrew. The first thing he saw on riding up to the +space where Tushin's guns were stationed was an unharnessed horse with +a broken leg, that lay screaming piteously beside the harnessed +horses. Blood was gushing from its leg as from a spring. Among the +limbers lay several dead men. One ball after another passed over as he +approached and he felt a nervous shudder run down his spine. But the +mere thought of being afraid roused him again. "I cannot be afraid," +thought he, and dismounted slowly among the guns. He delivered the +order and did not leave the battery. He decided to have the guns +removed from their positions and withdrawn in his presence. Together +with Tushin, stepping across the bodies and under a terrible fire from +the French, he attended to the removal of the guns. + +"A staff officer was here a minute ago, but skipped off," said an +artilleryman to Prince Andrew. "Not like your honor!" + +Prince Andrew said nothing to Tushin. They were both so busy as to +seem not to notice one another. When having limbered up the only two +cannon that remained uninjured out of the four, they began moving down +the hill (one shattered gun and one unicorn were left behind), +Prince Andrew rode up to Tushin. + +"Well, till we meet again..." he said, holding out his hand to +Tushin. + +"Good-by, my dear fellow," said Tushin. "Dear soul! Good-by, my dear +fellow!" and for some unknown reason tears suddenly filled his eyes. + +CHAPTER XXI + +The wind had fallen and black clouds, merging with the powder smoke, +hung low over the field of battle on the horizon. It was growing +dark and the glow of two conflagrations was the more conspicuous. +The cannonade was dying down, but the rattle of musketry behind and on +the right sounded oftener and nearer. As soon as Tushin with his guns, +continually driving round or coming upon wounded men, was out of range +of fire and had descended into the dip, he was met by some of the +staff, among them the staff officer and Zherkov, who had been twice +sent to Tushin's battery but had never reached it. Interrupting one +another, they all gave, and transmitted, orders as to how to +proceed, reprimanding and reproaching him. Tushin gave no orders, and, +silently- fearing to speak because at every word he felt ready to weep +without knowing why- rode behind on his artillery nag. Though the +orders were to abandon the wounded, many of them dragged themselves +after troops and begged for seats on the gun carriages. The jaunty +infantry officer who just before the battle had rushed out of Tushin's +wattle shed was laid, with a bullet in his stomach, on "Matvevna's" +carriage. At the foot of the hill, a pale hussar cadet, supporting one +hand with the other, came up to Tushin and asked for a seat. + +"Captain, for God's sake! I've hurt my arm," he said timidly. "For +God's sake... I can't walk. For God's sake!" + +It was plain that this cadet had already repeatedly asked for a lift +and been refused. He asked in a hesitating, piteous voice. + +"Tell them to give me a seat, for God's sake!" + +"Give him a seat," said Tushin. "Lay a cloak for him to sit on, +lad," he said, addressing his favorite soldier. "And where is the +wounded officer?" + +"He has been set down. He died," replied someone. + +"Help him up. Sit down, dear fellow, sit down! Spread out the cloak, +Antonov." + +The cadet was Rostov. With one hand he supported the other; he was +pale and his jaw trembled, shivering feverishly. He was placed on +"Matvevna," the gun from which they had removed the dead officer. +The cloak they spread under him was wet with blood which stained his +breeches and arm. + +"What, are you wounded, my lad?" said Tushin, approaching the gun on +which Rostov sat. + +"No, it's a sprain." + +"Then what is this blood on the gun carriage?" inquired Tushin. + +"It was the officer, your honor, stained it," answered the +artilleryman, wiping away the blood with his coat sleeve, as if +apologizing for the state of his gun. + +It was all that they could do to get the guns up the rise aided by +the infantry, and having reached the village of Gruntersdorf they +halted. It had grown so dark that one could not distinguish the +uniforms ten paces off, and the firing had begun to subside. Suddenly, +near by on the right, shouting and firing were again heard. Flashes of +shot gleamed in the darkness. This was the last French attack and +was met by soldiers who had sheltered in the village houses. They +all rushed out of the village again, but Tushin's guns could not move, +and the artillerymen, Tushin, and the cadet exchanged silent glances +as they awaited their fate. The firing died down and soldiers, talking +eagerly, streamed out of a side street. + +"Not hurt, Petrov?" asked one. + +"We've given it 'em hot, mate! They won't make another push now," +said another. + +"You couldn't see a thing. How they shot at their own fellows! +Nothing could be seen. Pitch-dark, brother! Isn't there something to +drink?" + +The French had been repulsed for the last time. And again and +again in the complete darkness Tushin's guns moved forward, surrounded +by the humming infantry as by a frame. + +In the darkness, it seemed as though a gloomy unseen river was +flowing always in one direction, humming with whispers and talk and +the sound of hoofs and wheels. Amid the general rumble, the groans and +voices of the wounded were more distinctly heard than any other +sound in the darkness of the night. The gloom that enveloped the +army was filled with their groans, which seemed to melt into one +with the darkness of the night. After a while the moving mass became +agitated, someone rode past on a white horse followed by his suite, +and said something in passing: "What did he say? Where to, now? +Halt, is it? Did he thank us?" came eager questions from all sides. +The whole moving mass began pressing closer together and a report +spread that they were ordered to halt: evidently those in front had +halted. All remained where they were in the middle of the muddy road. + +Fires were lighted and the talk became more audible. Captain Tushin, +having given orders to his company, sent a soldier to find a +dressing station or a doctor for the cadet, and sat down by a +bonfire the soldiers had kindled on the road. Rostov, too, dragged +himself to the fire. From pain, cold, and damp, a feverish shivering +shook his whole body. Drowsiness was irresistibly mastering him, but +he kept awake kept awake by an excruciating pain in his arm, for which +he could find no satisfactory position. He kept closing his eyes and +then again looking at the fire, which seemed to him dazzlingly red, +and at the feeble, round-shouldered figure of Tushin who was sitting +cross-legged like a Turk beside him. Tushin's large, kind, intelligent +eyes were fixed with sympathy and commiseration on Rostov, who saw +that Tushin with his whole heart wished to help him but could not. + +From all sides were heard the footsteps and talk of the infantry, +who were walking, driving past, and settling down all around. The +sound of voices, the tramping feet, the horses' hoofs moving in mud, +the crackling of wood fires near and afar, merged into one tremulous +rumble. + +It was no longer, as before, a dark, unseen river flowing through +the gloom, but a dark sea swelling and gradually subsiding after a +storm. Rostov looked at and listened listlessly to what passed +before and around him. An infantryman came to the fire, squatted on +his heels, held his hands to the blaze, and turned away his face. + +"You don't mind your honor?" he asked Tushin. "I've lost my company, +your honor. I don't know where... such bad luck!" + +With the soldier, an infantry officer with a bandaged cheek came +up to the bonfire, and addressing Tushin asked him to have the guns +moved a trifle to let a wagon go past. After he had gone, two soldiers +rushed to the campfire. They were quarreling and fighting desperately, +each trying to snatch from the other a boot they were both holding +on to. + +"You picked it up?... I dare say! You're very smart!" one of them +shouted hoarsely. + +Then a thin, pale soldier, his neck bandaged with a bloodstained leg +band, came up and in angry tones asked the artillerymen for water. + +"Must one die like a dog?" said he. + +Tushin told them to give the man some water. Then a cheerful soldier +ran up, begging a little fire for the infantry. + +"A nice little hot torch for the infantry! Good luck to you, +fellow countrymen. Thanks for the fire- we'll return it with +interest," said he, carrying away into the darkness a glowing stick. + +Next came four soldiers, carrying something heavy on a cloak, and +passed by the fire. One of them stumbled. + +"Who the devil has put the logs on the road?" snarled he. + +"He's dead- why carry him?" said another. + +"Shut up!" + +And they disappeared into the darkness with with their load. + +"Still aching?" Tushin asked Rostov in a whisper. + +"Yes." + +"Your honor, you're wanted by the general. He is in the hut here," +said a gunner, coming up to Tushin. + +"Coming, friend." + +Tushin rose and, buttoning his greatcoat and pulling it straight, +walked away from the fire. + +Not far from the artillery campfire, in a hut that had been prepared +for him, Prince Bagration sat at dinner, talking with some +commanding officers who had gathered at his quarters. The little old +man with the half-closed eyes was there greedily gnawing a mutton +bone, and the general who had served blamelessly for twenty-two years, +flushed by a glass of vodka and the dinner; and the staff officer with +the signet ring, and Zherkov, uneasily glancing at them all, and +Prince Andrew, pale, with compressed lips and feverishly glittering +eyes. + +In a corner of the hut stood a standard captured from the French, +and the accountant with the naive face was feeling its texture, +shaking his head in perplexity- perhaps because the banner really +interested him, perhaps because it was hard for him, hungry as he was, +to look on at a dinner where there was no place for him. In the next +hut there was a French colonel who had been taken prisoner by our +dragoons. Our officers were flocking in to look at him. Prince +Bagration was thanking the individual commanders and inquiring into +details of the action and our losses. The general whose regiment had +been inspected at Braunau was informing the prince that as soon as the +action began he had withdrawn from the wood, mustered the men who were +woodcutting, and, allowing the French to pass him, had made a +bayonet charge with two battalions and had broken up the French +troops. + +"When I saw, your excellency, that their first battalion was +disorganized, I stopped in the road and thought: 'I'll let them come +on and will meet them with the fire of the whole battalion'- and +that's what I did." + +The general had so wished to do this and was so sorry he had not +managed to do it that it seemed to him as if it had really happened. +Perhaps it might really have been so? Could one possibly make out amid +all that confusion what did or did not happen? + +"By the way, your excellency, I should inform you," he continued- +remembering Dolokhov's conversation with Kutuzov and his last +interview with the gentleman-ranker- "that Private Dolokhov, who was +reduced to the ranks, took a French officer prisoner in my presence +and particularly distinguished himself." + +"I saw the Pavlograd hussars attack there, your excellency," +chimed in Zherkov, looking uneasily around. He had not seen the +hussars all that day, but had heard about them from an infantry +officer. "They broke up two squares, your excellency." + +Several of those present smiled at Zherkov's words, expecting one of +his usual jokes, but noticing that what he was saying redounded to the +glory of our arms and of the day's work, they assumed a serious +expression, though many of them knew that what he was saying was a lie +devoid of any foundation. Prince Bagration turned to the old colonel: + +"Gentlemen, I thank you all; all arms have behaved heroically: +infantry, cavalry, and artillery. How was it that two guns were +abandoned in the center?" he inquired, searching with his eyes for +someone. (Prince Bagration did not ask about the guns on the left +flank; he knew that all the guns there had been abandoned at the +very beginning of the action.) "I think I sent you?" he added, turning +to the staff officer on duty. + +"One was damaged," answered the staff officer, "and the other I +can't understand. I was there all the time giving orders and had +only just left.... It is true that it was hot there," he added, +modestly. + +Someone mentioned that Captain Tushin was bivouacking close to the +village and had already been sent for. + +"Oh, but you were there?" said Prince Bagration, addressing Prince +Andrew. + +"Of course, we only just missed one another," said the staff +officer, with a smile to Bolkonski. + +"I had not the pleasure of seeing you," said Prince Andrew, coldly +and abruptly. + +All were silent. Tushin appeared at the threshold and made his way +timidly from behind the backs of the generals. As he stepped past +the generals in the crowded hut, feeling embarrassed as he always +was by the sight of his superiors, he did not notice the staff of +the banner and stumbled over it. Several of those present laughed. + +"How was it a gun was abandoned?" asked Bagration, frowning, not +so much at the captain as at those who were laughing, among whom +Zherkov laughed loudest. + +Only now, when he was confronted by the stern authorities, did his +guilt and the disgrace of having lost two guns and yet remaining alive +present themselves to Tushin in all their horror. He had been so +excited that he had not thought about it until that moment. The +officers' laughter confused him still more. He stood before +Bagration with his lower jaw trembling and was hardly able to +mutter: "I don't know... your excellency... I had no men... your +excellency." + +"You might have taken some from the covering troops." + +Tushin did not say that there were no covering troops, though that +was perfectly true. He was afraid of getting some other officer into +trouble, and silently fixed his eyes on Bagration as a schoolboy who +has blundered looks at an examiner. + +The silence lasted some time. Prince Bagration, apparently not +wishing to be severe, found nothing to say; the others did not venture +to intervene. Prince Andrew looked at Tushin from under his brows +and his fingers twitched nervously. + +"Your excellency!" Prince Andrew broke the silence with his abrupt +voice," you were pleased to send me to Captain Tushin's battery. I +went there and found two thirds of the men and horses knocked out, two +guns smashed, and no supports at all." + +Prince Bagration and Tushin looked with equal intentness at +Bolkonski, who spoke with suppressed agitation. + +"And, if your excellency will allow me to express my opinion," he +continued, "we owe today's success chiefly to the action of that +battery and the heroic endurance of Captain Tushin and his company," +and without awaiting a reply, Prince Andrew rose and left the table. + +Prince Bagration looked at Tushin, evidently reluctant to show +distrust in Bolkonski's emphatic opinion yet not feeling able fully to +credit it, bent his head, and told Tushin that he could go. Prince +Andrew went out with him. + +"Thank you; you saved me, my dear fellow!" said Tushin. + +Prince Andrew gave him a look, but said nothing and went away. He +felt sad and depressed. It was all so strange, so unlike what he had +hoped. + +"Who are they? Why are they here? What do they want? And when will +all this end?" thought Rostov, looking at the changing shadows +before him. The pain in his arm became more and more intense. +Irresistible drowsiness overpowered him, red rings danced before his +eyes, and the impression of those voices and faces and a sense of +loneliness merged with the physical pain. It was they, these soldiers- +wounded and unwounded- it was they who were crushing, weighing down, +and twisting the sinews and scorching the flesh of his sprained arm +and shoulder. To rid himself of them he closed his eyes. + +For a moment he dozed, but in that short interval innumerable things +appeared to him in a dream: his mother and her large white hand, +Sonya's thin little shoulders, Natasha's eyes and laughter, Denisov +with his voice and mustache, and Telyanin and all that affair with +Telyanin and Bogdanich. That affair was the same thing as this soldier +with the harsh voice, and it was that affair and this soldier that +were so agonizingly, incessantly pulling and pressing his arm and +always dragging it in one direction. He tried to get away from them, +but they would not for an instant let his shoulder move a hair's +breadth. It would not ache- it would be well- if only they did not +pull it, but it was immpossible to get rid of them. + +He opened his eyes and looked up. The black canopy of night hung +less than a yard above the glow of the charcoal. Flakes of falling +snow were fluttering in that light. Tushin had not returned, the +doctor had not come. He was alone now, except for a soldier who was +sitting naked at the other side of the fire, warming his thin yellow +body. + +"Nobody wants me!" thought Rostov. "There is no one to help me or +pity me. Yet I was once at home, strong, happy, and loved." He +sighed and, doing so, groaned involuntarily. + +"Eh, is anything hurting you?" asked the soldier, shaking his +shirt out over the fire, and not waiting for an answer he gave a grunt +and added: "What a lot of men have been crippled today- frightful!" + +Rostov did not listen to the soldier. He looked at the snowflakes +fluttering above the fire and remembered a Russian winter at his warm, +bright home, his fluffy fur coat, his quickly gliding sleigh, his +healthy body, and all the affection and care of his family. "And why +did I come here?" he wondered. + +Next day the French army did not renew their attack, and the remnant +of Bagration's detachment was reunited to Kutuzov's army. + +BOOK THREE: 1805 + +CHAPTER I + +Prince Vasili was not a man who deliberately thought out his +plans. Still less did he think of injuring anyone for his own +advantage. He was merely a man of the world who had got on and to whom +getting on had become a habit. Schemes and devices for which he +never rightly accounted to himself, but which formed the whole +interest of his life, were constantly shaping themselves in his +mind, arising from the circumstances and persons he met. Of these +plans he had not merely one or two in his head but dozens, some only +beginning to form themselves, some approaching achievement, and some +in course of disintegration. He did not, for instance, say to himself: +"This man now has influence, I must gain his confidence and friendship +and through him obtain a special grant." Nor did he say to himself: +"Pierre is a rich man, I must entice him to marry my daughter and lend +me the forty thousand rubles I need." But when he came across came +across a man of position his instinct immediately told him that this +man could be useful, and without any premeditation Prince Vasili + +took the first opportunity to gain his confidence, flatter him, become +intimate with him, and finally make his request. + +He had Pierre at hand in Moscow and procured for him an +appointment as Gentleman of the Bedchamber, which at that time +conferred the status of Councilor of State, and insisted on the +young man accompanying him to Petersburg and staying at his house. +With apparent absent-mindedness, yet with unhesitating assurance +that he was doing the right thing, Prince Vasili did everything to get +Pierre to marry his daughter. Had he thought out his plans +beforehand he could not have been so natural and shown such unaffected +familiarity in intercourse with everybody both above and below him +in social standing. Something always drew him toward those richer +and more powerful than himself and he had rare skill in seizing the +most opportune moment for making use of people. + +Pierre, on unexpectedly becoming Count Bezukhov and a rich man, felt +himself after his recent loneliness and freedom from cares so beset +and preoccupied that only in bed was he able to be by himself. He +had to sign papers, to present himself at government offices, the +purpose of which was not clear to him, to question his chief +steward, to visit his estate near Moscow, and to receive many people +who formerly did not even wish to know of his existence but would +now have been offended and grieved had he chosen not to see them. +These different people- businessmen, relations, and acquaintances +alike- were all disposed to treat the young heir in the most +friendly and flattering manner: they were all evidently firmly +convinced of Pierre's noble qualities. He was always hearing such +words as: "With your remarkable kindness," or, "With your excellent +heart," "You are yourself so honorable Count," or, "Were he as +clever as you," and so on, till he began sincerely to believe in his +own exceptional kindness and extraordinary intelligence, the more so +as in the depth of his heart it had always seemed to him that he +really was very kind and intelligent. Even people who had formerly +been spiteful toward him and evidently unfriendly now became gentle +and affectionate. The angry eldest princess, with the long waist and +hair plastered down like a doll's, had come into Pierre's room after +the funeral. With drooping eyes and frequent blushes she told him +she was very sorry about their past misunderstandings and did not +now feel she had a right to ask him for anything, except only for +permission, after the blow she had received, to remain for a few weeks +longer in the house she so loved and where she had sacrificed so much. +She could not refrain from weeping at these words. Touched that this +statuesque princess could so change, Pierre took her hand and begged +her forgiveness, without knowing what for. From that day the eldest +princess quite changed toward Pierre and began knitting a striped +scarf for him. + +"Do this for my sake, mon cher; after all, she had to put up with +a great deal from the deceased," said Prince Vasili to him, handing +him a deed to sign for the princess' benefit. + +Prince Vasili had come to the conclusion that it was necessary to +throw this bone- a bill for thirty thousand rubles- to the poor +princess that it might not occur to her to speak of his share in the +affair of the inlaid portfolio. Pierre signed the deed and after +that the princess grew still kinder. The younger sisters also became +affectionate to him, especially the youngest, the pretty one with +the mole, who often made him feel confused by her smiles and her own +confusion when meeting him. + +It seemed so natural to Pierre that everyone should like him, and it +would have seemed so unnatural had anyone disliked him, that he +could not but believe in the sincerity of those around him. Besides, +he had no time to ask himself whether these people were sincere or +not. He was always busy and always felt in a state of mild and +cheerful intoxication. He felt as though he were the center of some +important and general movement; that something was constantly expected +of him, that if he did not do it he would grieve and disappoint many +people, but if he did this and that, all would be well; and he did +what was demanded of him, but still that happy result always +remained in the future. + +More than anyone else, Prince Vasili took possession of Pierre's +affairs and of Pierre himself in those early days. From the death of +Count Bezukhov he did not let go his hold of the lad. He had the air +of a man oppressed by business, weary and suffering, who yet would +not, for pity's sake, leave this helpless youth who, after all, was +the son of his old friend and the possessor of such enormous wealth, +to the caprice of fate and the designs of rogues. During the few +days he spent in Moscow after the death of Count Bezukhov, he would +call Pierre, or go to him himself, and tell him what ought to be +done in a tone of weariness and assurance, as if he were adding +every time: "You know I am overwhelmed with business and it is +purely out of charity that I trouble myself about you, and you also +know quite well that what I propose is the only thing possible." + +"Well, my dear fellow, tomorrow we are off at last," said Prince +Vasili one day, closing his eyes and fingering Pierre's elbow, +speaking as if he were saying something which had long since been +agreed upon and could not now be altered. "We start tomorrow and I'm +giving you a place in my carriage. I am very glad. All our important +business here is now settled, and I ought to have been off long ago. +Here is something I have received from the chancellor. I asked him for +you, and you have been entered in the diplomatic corps and made a +Gentleman of the Bedchamber. The diplomatic career now lies open +before you." + +Notwithstanding the tone of wearied assurance with which these words +were pronounced, Pierre, who had so long been considering his +career, wished to make some suggestion. But Prince Vasili +interrupted him in the special deep cooing tone, precluding the +possibility of interrupting his speech, which he used in extreme cases +when special persuasion was needed. + +"Mais, mon cher, I did this for my own sake, to satisfy my +conscience, and there is nothing to thank me for. No one has ever +complained yet of being too much loved; and besides, you are free, you +could throw it up tomorrow. But you will see everything for yourself +when you get to Petersburg. It is high time for you to get away from +these terrible recollections." Prince Vasili sighed. "Yes, yes, my +boy. And my valet can go in your carriage. Ah! I was nearly +forgetting," he added. "You know, mon cher, your father and I had some +accounts to settle, so I have received what was due from the Ryazan +estate and will keep it; you won't require it. We'll go into the +accounts later." + +By "what was due from the Ryazan estate" Prince Vasili meant several +thousand rubles quitrent received from Pierre's peasants, which the +prince had retained for himself. + +In Petersburg, as in Moscow, Pierre found the same atmosphere of +gentleness and affection. He could not refuse the post, or rather +the rank (for he did nothing), that Prince Vasili had procured for + +him, and acquaintances, invitations, and social occupations were so +numerous that, even more than in Moscow, he felt a sense of +bewilderment, bustle, and continual expectation of some good, always +in front of him but never attained. + +Of his former bachelor acquaintances many were no longer in +Petersburg. The Guards had gone to the front; Dolokhov had been +reduced to the ranks; Anatole was in the army somewhere in the +provinces; Prince Andrew was abroad; so Pierre had not the opportunity +to spend his nights as he used to like to spend them, or to open his +mind by intimate talks with a friend older than himself and whom he +respected. His whole time was taken up with dinners and balls and +was spent chiefly at Prince Vasili's house in the company of the stout +princess, his wife, and his beautiful daughter Helene. + +Like the others, Anna Pavlovna Scherer showed Pierre the change of +attitude toward him that had taken place in society. + +Formerly in Anna Pavlovna's presence, Pierre had always felt that +what he was saying was out of place, tactless and unsuitable, that +remarks which seemed to him clever while they formed in his mind +became foolish as soon as he uttered them, while on the contrary +Hippolyte's stupidest remarks came out clever and apt. Now +everything Pierre said was charmant. Even if Anna Pavlovna did not say +so, he could see that she wished to and only refrained out of regard +for his modesty. + +In the beginning of the winter of 1805-6 Pierre received one of Anna +Pavlovna's usual pink notes with an invitation to which was added: +"You will find the beautiful Helene here, whom it is always delightful +to see." + +When he read that sentence, Pierre felt for the first time that some +link which other people recognized had grown up between himself and +Helene, and that thought both alarmed him, as if some obligation +were being imposed on him which he could not fulfill, and pleased +him as an entertaining supposition. + +Anna Pavlovna's "At Home" was like the former one, only the +novelty she offered her guests this time was not Mortemart, but a +diplomatist fresh from Berlin with the very latest details of the +Emperor Alexander's visit to Potsdam, and of how the two august +friends had pledged themselves in an indissoluble alliance to uphold +the cause of justice against the enemy of the human race. Anna +Pavlovna received Pierre with a shade of melancholy, evidently +relating to the young man's recent loss by the death of Count Bezukhov +(everyone constantly considered it a duty to assure Pierre that he was +greatly afflicted by the death of the father he had hardly known), and +her melancholy was just like the august melancholy she showed at the +mention of her most august Majesty the Empress Marya Fedorovna. Pierre +felt flattered by this. Anna Pavlovna arranged the different groups in +her drawing room with her habitual skill. The large group, in which +were Prince Vasili and the generals, had the benefit of the +diplomat. Another group was at the tea table. Pierre wished to join +the former, but Anna Pavlovna- who was in the excited condition of a +commander on a battlefield to whom thousands of new and brilliant +ideas occur which there is hardly time to put in action- seeing +Pierre, touched his sleeve with her finger, saying: + +"Wait a bit, I have something in view for you this evening." (She +glanced at Helene and smiled at her.) "My dear Helene, be charitable +to my poor aunt who adores you. Go and keep her company for ten +minutes. And that it will not be too dull, here is the dear count +who will not refuse to accompany you." + +The beauty went to the aunt, but Anna Pavlovna detained Pierre, +looking as if she had to give some final necessary instructions. + +"Isn't she exquisite?" she said to Pierre, pointing to the stately +beauty as she glided away. "And how she carries herself! For so +young a girl, such tact, such masterly perfection of manner! It +comes from her heart. Happy the man who wins her! With her the least +worldly of men would occupy a most brilliant position in society. +Don't you think so? I only wanted to know your opinion," and Anna +Pavlovna let Pierre go. + +Pierre, in reply, sincerely agreed with her as to Helene's +perfection of manner. If he ever thought of Helene, it was just of her +beauty and her remarkable skill in appearing silently dignified in +society. + +The old aunt received the two young people in her corner, but seemed +desirous of hiding her adoration for Helene and inclined rather to +show her fear of Anna Pavlovna. She looked at her niece, as if +inquiring what she was to do with these people. On leaving them, +Anna Pavlovna again touched Pierre's sleeve, saying: "I hope you won't +say that it is dull in my house again," and she glanced at Helene. + +Helene smiled, with a look implying that she did not admit the +possibility of anyone seeing her without being enchanted. The aunt +coughed, swallowed, and said in French that she was very pleased to +see Helene, then she turned to Pierre with the same words of welcome +and the same look. In the middle of a dull and halting conversation, +Helene turned to Pierre with the beautiful bright smile that she +gave to everyone. Pierre was so used to that smile, and it had so +little meaning for him, that he paid no attention to it. The aunt +was just speaking of a collection of snuffboxes that had belonged to +Pierre's father, Count Bezukhov, and showed them her own box. Princess +Helene asked to see the portrait of the aunt's husband on the box lid. + +"That is probably the work of Vinesse," said Pierre, mentioning a +celebrated miniaturist, and he leaned over the table to take the +snuffbox while trying to hear what was being said at the other table. + +He half rose, meaning to go round, but the aunt handed him the +snuffbox, passing it across Helene's back. Helene stooped forward to +make room, and looked round with a smile. She was, as always at +evening parties, wearing a dress such as was then fashionable, cut +very low at front and back. Her bust, which had always seemed like +marble to Pierre, was so close to him that his shortsighted eyes could +not but perceive the living charm of her neck and shoulders, so near +to his lips that he need only have bent his head a little to have +touched them. He was conscious of the warmth of her body, the scent of +perfume, and the creaking of her corset as she moved. He did not see +her marble beauty forming a complete whole with her dress, but all the +charm of her body only covered by her garments. And having once seen +this he could not help being aware it, just as we cannot renew an +illusion we have once seen through. + +"So you have never noticed before how beautiful I am?" Helene seemed +to say. "You had not noticed that I am a woman? Yes, I am a woman +who may belong to anyone- to you too," said her glance. And at that +moment Pierre felt that Helene not only could, but must, be his +wife, and that it could not be otherwise. + +He knew this at that moment as surely as if he had been standing +at the altar with her. How and when this would be he did not know, +he did not even know if it would be a good thing (he even felt, he +knew not why, that it would be a bad thing), but he knew it would +happen. + +Pierre dropped his eyes, lifted them again, and wished once more +to see her as a distant beauty far removed from him, as he had seen +her every day until then, but he could no longer do it. He could +not, any more than a man who has been looking at a tuft of steppe +grass through the mist and taking it for a tree can again take it +for a tree after he has once recognized it to be a tuft of grass. +She was terribly close to him. She already had power over him, and +between them there was no longer any barrier except the barrier of his +own will. + +"Well, I will leave you in your little corner," came Anna Pavlovna's +voice, "I see you are all right there." + +And Pierre, anxiously trying to remember whether he had done +anything reprehensible, looked round with a blush. It seemed to him +that everyone knew what had happened to him as he knew it himself. + +A little later when he went up to the large circle, Anna Pavlovna +said to him: "I hear you are refitting your Petersburg house?" + +This was true. The architect had told him that it was necessary, and +Pierre, without knowing why, was having his enormous Petersburg +house done up. + +"That's a good thing, but don't move from Prince Vasili's. It is +good to have a friend like the prince," she said, smiling at Prince +Vasili. "I know something about that. Don't I? And you are still so +young. You need advice. Don't be angry with me for exercising an old +woman's privilege." + +She paused, as women always do, expecting something after they +have mentioned their age. "If you marry it will be a different thing," +she continued, uniting them both in one glance. Pierre did not look at +Helene nor she at him. But she was just as terribly close to him. He +muttered something and colored. + +When he got home he could not sleep for a long time for thinking +of what had happened. What had happened? Nothing. He had merely +understood that the woman he had known as a child, of whom when her +beauty was mentioned he had said absent-mindedly: "Yes, she's good +looking," he had understood that this woman might belong to him. + +"But she's stupid. I have myself said she is stupid," he thought. +"There is something nasty, something wrong, in the feeling she excites +in me. I have been told that her brother Anatole was in love with +her and she with him, that there was quite a scandal and that that's +why he was sent away. Hippolyte is her brother... Prince Vasili is her +father... It's bad...." he reflected, but while he was thinking this +(the reflection was still incomplete), he caught himself smiling and +was conscious that another line of thought had sprung up, and while +thinking of her worthlessness he was also dreaming of how she would be +his wife, how she would love him become quite different, and how all +he had thought and heard of her might be false. And he again saw her +not as the daughter of Prince Vasili, but visualized her whole body +only veiled by its gray dress. "But no! Why did this thought never +occur to me before?" and again he told himself that it was impossible, +that there would be something unnatural, and as it seemed to him +dishonorable, in this marriage. He recalled her former words and looks +and the words and looks of those who had seen them together. He +recalled Anna Pavlovna's words and looks when she spoke to him about +his house, recalled thousands of such hints from Prince Vasili and +others, and was seized by terror lest he had already, in some way, +bound himself to do something that was evidently wrong and that he +ought not to do. But at the very time he was expressing this +conviction to himself, in another part of his mind her image rose in +all its womanly beauty. + +CHAPTER II + +In November, 1805, Prince Vasili had to go on a tour of inspection +in four different provinces. He had arranged this for himself so as to +visit his neglected estates at the same time and pick up his son +Anatole where his regiment was stationed, and take him to visit Prince +Nicholas Bolkonski in order to arrange a match for him with the +daughter of that rich old man. But before leaving home and undertaking +these new affairs, Prince Vasili had to settle matters with Pierre, +who, it is true, had latterly spent whole days at home, that is, in +Prince Vasili's house where he was staying, and had been absurd, +excited, and foolish in Helene's presence (as a lover should be), +but had not yet proposed to her. + +"This is all very fine, but things must be settled," said Prince +Vasili to himself, with a sorrowful sigh, one morning, feeling that +Pierre who was under such obligations to him ("But never mind that") +was not behaving very well in this matter. "Youth, frivolity... +well, God be with him," thought he, relishing his own goodness of +heart, "but it must be brought to a head. The day after tomorrow +will be Lelya's name day. I will invite two or three people, and if he +does not understand what he ought to do then it will be my affair- +yes, my affair. I am her father." + +Six weeks after Anna Pavlovna's "At Home" and after the sleepless +night when he had decided that to marry Helene would be a calamity and +that he ought to avoid her and go away, Pierre, despite that decision, +had not left Prince Vasili's and felt with terror that in people's +eyes he was every day more and more connected with her, that it was +impossible for him to return to his former conception of her, that +he could not break away from her, and that though it would be a +terrible thing he would have to unite his fate with hers. He might +perhaps have been able to free himself but that Prince Vasili (who had +rarely before given receptions) now hardly let a day go by without +having an evening party at which Pierre had to be present unless he +wished to spoil the general pleasure and disappoint everyone's +expectation. Prince Vasili, in the rare moments when he was at home, +would take Pierre's hand in passing and draw it downwards, or +absent-mindedly hold out his wrinkled, clean-shaven cheek for Pierre +to kiss and would say: "Till tomorrow," or, "Be in to dinner or I +shall not see you," or, "I am staying in for your sake," and so on. +And though Prince Vasili, when he stayed in (as he said) for +Pierre's sake, hardly exchanged a couple of words with him, Pierre +felt unable to disappoint him. Every day he said to himself one and +the same thing: "It is time I understood her and made up my mind +what she really is. Was I mistaken before, or am I mistaken now? No, +she is not stupid, she is an excellent girl," he sometimes said to +himself "she never makes a mistake, never says anything stupid. She +says little, but what she does say is always clear and simple, so +she is not stupid. She never was abashed and is not abashed now, so +she cannot be a bad woman!" He had often begun to make reflections +or think aloud in her company, and she had always answered him +either by a brief but appropriate remark- showing that it did not +interest her- or by a silent look and smile which more palpably than +anything else showed Pierre her superiority. She was right in +regarding all arguments as nonsense in comparison with that smile. + +She always addressed him with a radiantly confiding smile meant +for him alone, in which there was something more significant than in +the general smile that usually brightened her face. Pierre knew that +everyone was waiting for him to say a word and cross a certain line, +and he knew that sooner or later he would step across it, but an +incomprehensible terror seized him at the thought of that dreadful +step. A thousand times during that month and a half while he felt +himself drawn nearer and nearer to that dreadful abyss, Pierre said to +himself: "What am I doing? I need resolution. Can it be that I have +none?" + +He wished to take a decision, but felt with dismay that in this +matter he lacked that strength of will which he had known in himself +and really possessed. Pierre was one of those who are only strong when +they feel themselves quite innocent, and since that day when he was +overpowered by a feeling of desire while stooping over the snuffbox at +Anna Pavlovna's, an unacknowledged sense of the guilt of that desire +paralyzed his will. + +On Helene's name day, a small party of just their own people- as his +wife said- met for supper at Prince Vasili's. All these friends and +relations had been given to understand that the fate of the young girl +would be decided that evening. The visitors were seated at supper. +Princess Kuragina, a portly imposing woman who had once been handsome, +was sitting at the head of the table. On either side of her sat the +more important guests- an old general and his wife, and Anna +Pavlovna Scherer. At the other end sat the younger and less +important guests, and there too sat the members of the family, and +Pierre and Helene, side by side. Prince Vasili was not having any +supper: he went round the table in a merry mood, sitting down now by +one, now by another, of the guests. To each of them he made some +careless and agreeable remark except to Pierre and Helene, whose +presence he seemed not to notice. He enlivened the whole party. The +wax candles burned brightly, the silver and crystal gleamed, so did +the ladies' toilets and the gold and silver of the men's epaulets; +servants in scarlet liveries moved round the table, the clatter of +plates, knives, and glasses mingled with the animated hum of several +conversations. At one end of the table, the old chamberlain was +heard assuring an old baroness that he loved her passionately, at +which she laughed; at the other could be heard the story of the +misfortunes of some Mary Viktorovna or other. At the center of the +table, Prince Vasili attracted everybody's attention. With a facetious +smile on his face, he was telling the ladies about last Wednesday's +meeting of the Imperial Council, at which Sergey Kuzmich +Vyazmitinov, the new military governor general of Petersburg, had +received and read the then famous rescript of the Emperor Alexander +from the army to Sergey Kuzmich, in which the Emperor said that he was +receiving from all sides declarations of the people's loyalty, that +the declaration from Petersburg gave him particular pleasure, and that +he was proud to be at the head of such a nation and would endeavor +to be worthy of it. This rescript began with the words: "Sergey +Kuzmich, From all sides reports reach me," etc. + +"Well, and so he never got farther than: 'Sergey Kuzmich'?" asked +one of the ladies. + +"Exactly, not a hair's breadth farther," answered Prince Vasili, +laughing, "'Sergey Kuzmich... From all sides... From all sides... +Sergey Kuzmich...' Poor Vyazmitinov could not get any farther! He +began the rescript again and again, but as soon as he uttered 'Sergey' +he sobbed, 'Kuz-mi-ch,' tears, and 'From all sides' was smothered in +sobs and he could get no farther. And again his handkerchief, and +again: 'Sergey Kuzmich, From all sides,'... and tears, till at last +somebody else was asked to read it." + +"Kuzmich... From all sides... and then tears," someone repeated +laughing. + +"Don't be unkind," cried Anna Pavlovna from her end of the table +holding up a threatening finger. "He is such a worthy and excellent +man, our dear Vyazmitinov...." + +Everybody laughed a great deal. At the head of the table, where +the honored guests sat, everyone seemed to be in high spirits and +under the influence of a variety of exciting sensations. Only Pierre +and Helene sat silently side by side almost at the bottom of the +table, a suppressed smile brightening both their faces, a smile that +had nothing to do with Sergey Kuzmich- a smile of bashfulness at their +own feelings. But much as all the rest laughed, talked, and joked, +much as they enjoyed their Rhine wine, saute, and ices, and however +they avoided looking at the young couple, and heedless and unobservant +as they seemed of them, one could feel by the occasional glances +they gave that the story about Sergey Kuzmich, the laughter, and the +food were all a pretense, and that the whole attention of that company +was directed to- Pierre and Helene. Prince Vasili mimicked the sobbing +of Sergey Kuzmich and at the same time his eyes glanced toward his +daughter, and while he laughed the expression on his face clearly +said: "Yes... it's getting on, it will all be settled today." Anna +Pavlovna threatened him on behalf of "our dear Vyazmitinov," and in +her eyes, which, for an instant, glanced at Pierre, Prince Vasili read +a congratulation on his future son-in-law and on his daughter's +happiness. The old princess sighed sadly as she offered some wine to +the old lady next to her and glanced angrily at her daughter, and +her sigh seemed to say: "Yes, there's nothing left for you and me +but to sip sweet wine, my dear, now that the time has come for these +young ones to be thus boldly, provocatively happy." "And what nonsense +all this is that I am saying!" thought a diplomatist, glancing at +the happy faces of the lovers. "That's happiness!" + +Into the insignificant, trifling, and artificial interests uniting +that society had entered the simple feeling of the attraction of a +healthy and handsome young man and woman for one another. And this +human feeling dominated everything else and soared above all their +affected chatter. Jests fell flat, news was not interesting, and the +animation was evidently forced. Not only the guests but even the +footmen waiting at table seemed to feel this, and they forgot their +duties as they looked at the beautiful Helene with her radiant face +and at the red, broad, and happy though uneasy face of Pierre. It +seemed as if the very light of the candles was focused on those two +happy faces alone. + +Pierre felt that he the center of it all, and this both pleased +and embarrassed him. He was like a man entirely absorbed in some +occupation. He did not see, hear, or understand anything clearly. Only +now and then detached ideas and impressions from the world of +reality shot unexpectedly through his mind. + +"So it is all finished!" he thought. "And how has it all happened? +How quickly! Now I know that not because of her alone, nor of myself +alone, but because of everyone, it must inevitably come about. They +are all expecting it, they are so sure that it will happen that I +cannot, I cannot, disappoint them. But how will it be? I do not +know, but it will certainly happen!" thought Pierre, glancing at those +dazzling shoulders close to his eyes. + +Or he would suddenly feel ashamed of he knew not what. He felt it +awkward to attract everyone's attention and to be considered a lucky +man and, with his plain face, to be looked on as a sort of Paris +possessed of a Helen. "But no doubt it always is and must be so!" he +consoled himself. "And besides, what have I done to bring it about? +How did it begin? I traveled from Moscow with Prince Vasili. Then +there was nothing. So why should I not stay at his house? Then I +played cards with her and picked up her reticule and drove out with +her. How did it begin, when did it all come about?" And here he was +sitting by her side as her betrothed, seeing, hearing, feeling her +nearness, her breathing, her movements, her beauty. Then it would +suddenly seem to him that it was not she but he was so unusually +beautiful, and that that was why they all looked so at him, and +flattered by this general admiration he would expand his chest, +raise his head, and rejoice at his good fortune. Suddenly he heard a +familiar voice repeating something to him a second time. But Pierre +was so absorbed that he did not understand what was said. + +"I am asking you when you last heard from Bolkonski," repeated +Prince Vasili a third time. "How absent-minded you are, my dear +fellow." + +Prince Vasili smiled, and Pierre noticed that everyone was smiling +at him and Helene. "Well, what of it, if you all know it?" thought +Pierre. "What of it? It's the truth!" and he himself smiled his gentle +childlike smile, and Helene smiled too. + +"When did you get the letter? Was it from Olmutz?" repeated Prince +Vasili, who pretended to want to know this in order to settle a +dispute. + +"How can one talk or think of such trifles?" thought Pierre. + +"Yes, from Olmutz," he answered, with a sigh. + +After supper Pierre with his partner followed the others into the +drawing room. The guests began to disperse, some without taking +leave of Helene. Some, as if unwilling to distract her from an +important occupation, came up to her for a moment and made haste to go +away, refusing to let her see them off. The diplomatist preserved a +mournful silence as he left the drawing room. He pictured the vanity +of his diplomatic career in comparison with Pierre's happiness. The +old general grumbled at his wife when she asked how his leg was. +"Oh, the old fool," he thought. "That Princess Helene will be +beautiful still when she's fifty." + +"I think I may congratulate you," whispered Anna Pavlovna to the old +princess, kissing her soundly. "If I hadn't this headache I'd have +stayed longer." + +The old princess did not reply, she was tormented by jealousy of her +daughter's happiness. + +While the guests were taking their leave Pierre remained for a +long time alone with Helene in the little drawing room where they were +sitting. He had often before, during the last six weeks, remained +alone with her, but had never spoken to her of love. Now he felt +that it was inevitable, but he could not make up his mind to take +the final step. He felt ashamed; he felt that he was occupying someone +else's place here beside Helene. "This happiness is not for you," some +inner voice whispered to him. "This happiness is for those who have +not in them what there is in you." + +But, as he had to say something, he began by asking her whether +she was satisfied with the party. She replied in her usual simple +manner that this name day of hers had been one of the pleasantest +she had ever had. + +Some of the nearest relatives had not yet left. They were sitting in +the large drawing room. Prince Vasili came up to Pierre with languid +footsteps. Pierre rose and said it was getting late. Prince Vasili +gave him a look of stern inquiry, as though what Pierre had just +said was so strange that one could not take it in. But then the +expression of severity changed, and he drew Pierre's hand downwards, +made him sit down, and smiled affectionately. + +"Well, Lelya?" he asked, turning instantly to his daughter and +addressing her with the careless tone of habitual tenderness natural +to parents who have petted their children from babyhood, but which +Prince Vasili had only acquired by imitating other parents. + +And he again turned to Pierre. + +"Sergey Kuzmich- From all sides-" he said, unbuttoning the top +button of his waistcoat. + +Pierre smiled, but his smile showed that he knew it was not the +story about Sergey Kuzmich that interested Prince Vasili just then, +and Prince Vasili saw that Pierre knew this. He suddenly muttered +something and went away. It seemed to Pierre that even the prince +was disconcerted. The sight of the discomposure of that old man of the +world touched Pierre: he looked at Helene and she too seemed +disconcerted, and her look seemed to say: "Well, it is your own +fault." + +"The step must be taken but I cannot, I cannot!" thought Pierre, and +he again began speaking about indifferent matters, about Sergey +Kuzmich, asking what the point of the story was as he had not heard it +properly. Helene answered with a smile that she too had missed it. + +When Prince Vasili returned to the drawing room, the princess, his +wife, was talking in low tones to the elderly lady about Pierre. + +"Of course, it is a very brilliant match, but happiness, my dear..." + +"Marriages are made in heaven," replied the elderly lady. + +Prince Vasili passed by, seeming not to hear the ladies, and sat +down on a sofa in a far corner of the room. He closed his eyes and +seemed to be dozing. His head sank forward and then he roused himself. + +"Aline," he said to his wife, "go and see what they are about." + +The princess went up to the door, passed by it with a dignified +and indifferent air, and glanced into the little drawing room. +Pierre and Helene still sat talking just as before. + +"Still the same," she said to her husband. + +Prince Vasili frowned, twisting his mouth, his cheeks quivered and +his face assumed the coarse, unpleasant expression peculiar to him. +Shaking himself, he rose, threw back his head, and with resolute steps +went past the ladies into the little drawing room. With quick steps he +went joyfully up to Pierre. His face was so unusually triumphant +that Pierre rose in alarm on seeing it. + +"Thank God!" said Prince Vasili. "My wife has told me everything!- +(He put one arm around Pierre and the other around his daughter.)- "My +dear boy... Lelya... I am very pleased." (His voice trembled.) "I +loved your father... and she will make you a good wife... God bless +you!..." + +He embraced his daughter, and then again Pierre, and kissed him with +his malodorous mouth. Tears actually moistened his cheeks. + +"Princess, come here!" he shouted. + +The old princess came in and also wept. The elderly lady was using +her handkerchief too. Pierre was kissed, and he kissed the beautiful +Helene's hand several times. After a while they were left alone again. + +"All this had to be and could not be otherwise," thought Pierre, "so +it is useless to ask whether it is good or bad. It is good because +it's definite and one is rid of the old tormenting doubt." Pierre held +the hand of his betrothed in silence, looking at her beautiful bosom +as it rose and fell. + +"Helene!" he said aloud and paused. + +"Something special is always said in such cases," he thought, but +could not remember what it was that people say. He looked at her face. +She drew nearer to him. Her face flushed. + +"Oh, take those off... those..." she said, pointing to his +spectacles. + +Pierre took them off, and his eyes, besides the strange look eyes +have from which spectacles have just been removed, had also a +frightened and inquiring look. He was about to stoop over her hand and +kiss it, but with a rapid, almost brutal movement of her head, she +intercepted his lips and met them with her own. Her face struck +Pierre, by its altered, unpleasantly excited expression. + +"It is too late now, it's done; besides I love her," thought Pierre. + +"Je vous aime!"~^ he said, remembering what has to be said at such +moments: but his words sounded so weak that he felt ashamed of +himself. + +^~ "I love you." + +Six weeks later he was married, and settled in Count Bezukhov's +large, newly furnished Petersburg house, the happy possessor, as +people said, of a wife who was a celebrated beauty and of millions +of money. + +CHAPTER III + +Old Prince Nicholas Bolkonski received a letter from Prince Vasili +in November, 1805, announcing that he and his son would be paying +him a visit. "I am starting on a journey of inspection, and of +course I shall think nothing of an extra seventy miles to come and see +you at the same time, my honored benefactor," wrote Prince Vasili. "My + +son Anatole is accompanying me on his way to the army, so I hope you +will allow him personally to express the deep respect that, +emulating his father, he feels for you." + +"It seems that there will be no need to bring Mary out, suitors +are coming to us of their own accord," incautiously remarked the +little princess on hearing the news. + +Prince Nicholas frowned, but said nothing. + +A fortnight after the letter Prince Vasili's servants came one +evening in advance of him, and he and his son arrived next day. + +Old Bolkonski had always had a poor opinion of Prince Vasili's +character, but more so recently, since in the new reigns of Paul and +Alexander Prince Vasili had risen to high position and honors. And +now, from the hints contained in his letter and given by the little +princess, he saw which way the wind was blowing, and his low opinion +changed into a feeling of contemptuous ill will. He snorted whenever +he mentioned him. On the day of Prince Vasili's arrival, Prince +Bolkonski was particularly discontented and out of temper. Whether +he was in a bad temper because Prince Vasili was coming, or whether +his being in a bad temper made him specially annoyed at Prince +Vasili's visit, he was in a bad temper, and in the morning Tikhon +had already advised the architect not to go the prince with his +report. + +"Do you hear how he's walking?" said Tikhon, drawing the architect's +attention to the sound of the prince's footsteps. "Stepping flat on +his heels- we know what that means...." + +However, at nine o'clock the prince, in his velvet coat with a sable +collar and cap, went out for his usual walk. It had snowed the day +before and the path to the hothouse, along which the prince was in the +habit of walking, had been swept: the marks of the broom were still +visible in the snow and a shovel had been left sticking in one of +the soft snowbanks that bordered both sides of the path. The prince +went through the conservatories, the serfs' quarters, and the +outbuildings, frowning and silent. + +"Can a sleigh pass?" he asked his overseer, a venerable man, +resembling his master in manners and looks, who was accompanying him +back to the house. + +"The snow is deep. I am having the avenue swept, your honor." + +The prince bowed his head and went up to the porch. "God be +thanked," thought the overseer, "the storm has blown over!" + +"It would have been hard to drive up, your honor," he added. "I +heard, your honor, that a minister is coming to visit your honor." + +The prince turned round to the overseer and fixed his eyes on him, +frowning. + +"What? A minister? What minister? Who gave orders?" he said in his +shrill, harsh voice. "The road is not swept for the princess my +daughter, but for a minister! For me, there are no ministers!" + +"Your honor, I thought..." + +"You thought!" shouted the prince, his words coming more and more +rapidly and indistinctly. "You thought!... Rascals! Blackgaurds!... +I'll teach you to think!" and lifting his stick he swung it and +would have hit Alpatych, the overseer, had not the latter +instinctively avoided the blow. "Thought... Blackguards..." shouted +the prince rapidly. + +But although Alpatych, frightened at his own temerity in avoiding +the stroke, came up to the prince, bowing his bald head resignedly +before him, or perhaps for that very reason, the prince, though he +continued to shout: "Blackgaurds!... Throw the snow back on the road!" +did not lift his stick again but hurried into the house. + +Before dinner, Princess Mary and Mademoiselle Bourienne, who knew +that the prince was in a bad humor, stood awaiting him; Mademoiselle +Bourienne with a radiant face that said: "I know nothing, I am the +same as usual," and Princess Mary pale, frightened, and with +downcast eyes. What she found hardest to bear was to know that on such +occasions she ought to behave like Mademoiselle Bourienne, but could +not. She thought: "If I seem not to notice he will think that I do not +sympathize with him; if I seem sad and out of spirits myself, he +will say (as he has done before) that I'm in the dumps." + +The prince looked at his daughter's frightened face and snorted. + +"Fool... or dummy!" he muttered. + +"And the other one is not here. They've been telling tales," he +thought- referring to the little princess who was not in the dining +room. + +"Where is the princess?" he asked. "Hiding?" + +"She is not very well," answered Mademoiselle Bourienne with a +bright smile, "so she won't come down. It is natural in her state." + +"Hm! Hm!" muttered the prince, sitting down. + +His plate seemed to him not quite clean, and pointing to a spot he +flung it away. Tikhon caught it and handed it to a footman. The little +princess was not unwell, but had such an overpowering fear of the +prince that, hearing he was in a bad humor, she had decided not to +appear. + +"I am afraid for the baby," she said to Mademoiselle Bourienne: +"Heaven knows what a fright might do." + +In general at Bald Hills the little princess lived in constant fear, +and with a sense of antipathy to the old prince which she did not +realize because the fear was so much the stronger feeling. The +prince reciprocated this antipathy, but it was overpowered by his +contempt for her. When the little princess had grown accustomed to +life at Bald Hills, she took a special fancy to Mademoiselle +Bourienne, spent whole days with her, asked her to sleep in her +room, and often talked with her about the old prince and criticized +him. + +"So we are to have visitors, mon prince?" remarked Mademoiselle +Bourienne, unfolding her white napkin with her rosy fingers. "His +Excellency Prince Vasili Kuragin and his son, I understand?" she +said inquiringly. + +"Hm!- his excellency is a puppy.... I got him his appointment in the +service," said the prince disdainfully. "Why his son is coming I don't +understand. Perhaps Princess Elizabeth and Princess Mary know. I don't +want him." (He looked at his blushing daughter.) "Are you unwell +today? Eh? Afraid of the 'minister' as that idiot Alpatych called +him this morning?" + +"No, mon pere." + +Though Mademoiselle Bourienne had been so unsuccessful in her choice +of a subject, she did not stop talking, but chattered about the +conservatories and the beauty of a flower that had just opened, and +after the soup the prince became more genial. + +After dinner, he went to see his daughter-in-law. The little +princess was sitting at a small table, chattering with Masha, her +maid. She grew pale on seeing her father-in-law. + +She was much altered. She was now plain rather than pretty. Her +cheeks had sunk, her lip was drawn up, and her eyes drawn down. + +"Yes, I feel a kind of oppression," she said in reply to the +prince's question as to how she felt. + +"Do you want anything?" + +"No, merci, mon pere." + +"Well, all right, all right." + +He left the room and went to the waiting room where Alpatych stood +with bowed head. + +"Has the snow been shoveled back?" + +"Yes, your excellency. Forgive me for heaven's sake... It was only +my stupidity." + +"All right, all right," interrupted the prince, and laughing his +unnatural way, he stretched out his hand for Alpatych to kiss, and +then proceeded to his study. + +Prince Vasili arrived that evening. He was met in the avenue by +coachmen and footmen, who, with loud shouts, dragged his sleighs up to +one of the lodges over the road purposely laden with snow. + +Prince Vasili and Anatole had separate rooms assigned to them. + +Anatole, having taken off his overcoat, sat with arms akimbo +before a table on a corner of which he smilingly and absent-mindedly +fixed his large and handsome eyes. He regarded his whole life as a +continual round of amusement which someone for some reason had to +provide for him. And he looked on this visit to a churlish old man and +a rich and ugly heiress in the same way. All this might, he thought, +turn out very well and amusingly. "And why not marry her if she really +has so much money? That never does any harm," thought Anatole. + +He shaved and scented himself with the care and elegance which had +become habitual to him and, his handsome head held high, entered his +father's room with the good-humored and victorious air natural to him. +Prince Vasili's two valets were busy dressing him, and he looked round +with much animation and cheerfully nodded to his son as the latter +entered, as if to say: "Yes, that's how I want you to look." + +"I say, Father, joking apart, is she very hideous?" Anatole asked, +as if continuing a conversation the subject of which had often been +mentioned during the journey. + +"Enough! What nonsense! Above all, try to be respectful and cautious +with the old prince." + +"If he starts a row I'll go away," said Prince Anatole. "I can't +bear those old men! Eh?" + +"Remember, for you everything depends on this." + +In the meantime, not only was it known in the maidservants' rooms +that the minister and his son had arrived, but the appearance of +both had been minutely described. Princess Mary was sitting alone in +her room, vainly trying to master her agitation. + +"Why did they write, why did Lise tell me about it? It can never +happen!" she said, looking at herself in the glass. "How shall I enter +the drawing room? Even if I like him I can't now be myself with +him." The mere thought of her father's look filled her with terror. +The little princess and Mademoiselle Bourienne had already received +from Masha, the lady's maid, the necessary report of how handsome +the minister's son was, with his rosy cheeks and dark eyebrows, and +with what difficulty the father had dragged his legs upstairs while +the son had followed him like an eagle, three steps at a time. +Having received this information, the little princess and Mademoiselle +Bourienne, whose chattering voices had reached her from the +corridor, went into Princess Mary's room. + +"You know they've come, Marie?" said the little princess, waddling +in, and sinking heavily into an armchair. + +She was no longer in the loose gown she generally wore in the +morning, but had on one of her best dresses. Her hair was carefully +done and her face was animated, which, however, did not conceal its +sunken and faded outlines. Dressed as she used to be in Petersburg +society, it was still more noticeable how much plainer she had become. +Some unobtrusive touch had been added to Mademoiselle Bourienne's +toilet which rendered her fresh and prettyface yet more attractive. + +"What! Are you going to remain as you are, dear princess?" she +began. "They'll be announcing that the gentlemen are in the drawing +room and we shall have to go down, and you have not smartened yourself +up at all!" + +The little princess got up, rang for the maid, and hurriedly and +merrily began to devise and carry out a plan of how Princess Mary +should be dressed. Princess Mary's self-esteem was wounded by the fact +that the arrival of a suitor agitated her, and still more so by both +her companions' not having the least conception that it could be +otherwise. To tell them that she felt ashamed for herself and for them +would be to betray her agitation, while to decline their offers to +dress her would prolong their banter and insistence. She flushed, +her beautiful eyes grew dim, red blotches came on her face, and it +took on the unattractive martyrlike expression it so often wore, as +she submitted herself to Mademoiselle Bourienne and Lise. Both these +women quite sincerely tried to make her look pretty. She was so +plain that neither of them could think of her as a rival, so they +began dressing her with perfect sincerity, and with the naive and firm +conviction women have that dress can make a face pretty. + +"No really, my dear, this dress is not pretty," said Lise, looking +sideways at Princess Mary from a little distance. "You have a maroon +dress, have it fetched. Really! You know the fate of your whole life +may be at stake. But this one is too light, it's not becoming!" + +It was not the dress, but the face and whole figure of Princess Mary +that was not pretty, but neither Mademoiselle Bourienne nor the little +princess felt this; they still thought that if a blue ribbon were +placed in the hair, the hair combed up, and the blue scarf arranged +lower on the best maroon dress, and so on, all would be well. They +forgot that the frightened face and the figure could not be altered, +and that however they might change the setting and adornment of that +face, it would still remain piteous and plain. After two or three +changes to which Princess Mary meekly submitted, just as her hair +had been arranged on the top of her head (a style that quite altered +and spoiled her looks) and she had put on a maroon dress with a +pale-blue scarf, the little princess walked twice round her, now +adjusting a fold of the dress with her little hand, now arranging +the scarf and looking at her with her head bent first on one side +and then on the other. + +"No, it will not do," she said decidedly, clasping her hands. "No, +Mary, really this dress does not suit you. I prefer you in your little +gray everyday dress. Now please, do it for my sake. Katie," she said +to the maid, "bring the princess her gray dress, and you'll see, +Mademoiselle Bourienne, how I shall arrange it," she added, smiling +with a foretaste of artistic pleasure. + +But when Katie brought the required dress, Princess Mary remained +sitting motionless before the glass, looking at her face, and saw in +the mirror her eyes full of tears and her mouth quivering, ready to +burst into sobs. + +"Come, dear princess," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, "just one more +little effort." + +The little princess, taking the dress from the maid, came up to +Princess Mary. + +"Well, now we'll arrange something quite simple and becoming," she +said. + +The three voices, hers, Mademoiselle Bourienne's, and Katie's, who +was laughing at something, mingled in a merry sound, like the chirping +of birds. + +"No, leave me alone," said Princess Mary. + +Her voice sounded so serious and so sad that the chirping of the +birds was silenced at once. They looked at the beautiful, large, +thoughtful eyes full of tears and of thoughts, gazing shiningly and +imploringly at them, and understood that it was useless and even cruel +to insist. + +"At least, change your coiffure," said the little princess. +"Didn't I tell you," she went on, turning reproachfully to +Mademoiselle Bourienne, "Mary's is a face which such a coiffure does +not suit in the least. Not in the least! Please change it." + +"Leave me alone, please leave me alone! It is all quite the same +to me," answered a voice struggling with tears. + +Mademoiselle Bourienne and the little princess had to own to +themselves that Princess Mary in this guise looked very plain, worse +than usual, but it was too late. She was looking at them with an +expression they both knew, an expression thoughtful and sad. This +expression in Princess Mary did not frighten them (she never +inspired fear in anyone), but they knew that when it appeared on her +face, she became mute and was not to be shaken in her determination. + +"You will change it, won't you?" said Lise. And as Princess Mary +gave no answer, she left the room. + +Princess Mary was left alone. She did not comply with Lise's +request, she not only left her hair as it was, but did not even look +in her glass. Letting her arms fall helplessly, she sat with +downcast eyes and pondered. A husband, a man, a strong dominant and +strangely attractive being rose in her imagination, and carried her +into a totally different happy world of his own. She fancied a +child, her own- such as she had seen the day before in the arms of her +nurse's daughter- at her own breast, the husband standing by and +gazing tenderly at her and the child. "But no, it is impossible, I +am too ugly," she thought. + +"Please come to tea. The prince will be out in a moment," came the +maid's voice at the door. + +She roused herself, and felt appalled at what she had been thinking, +and before going down she went into the room where the icons hung and, +her eyes fixed on the dark face of a large icon of the Saviour lit +by a lamp, she stood before it with folded hands for a few moments. +A painful doubt filled her soul. Could the joy of love, of earthly +love for a man, be for her? In her thoughts of marriage Princess +Mary dreamed of happiness and of children, but her strongest, most +deeply hidden longing was for earthly love. The more she tried to hide +this feeling from others and even from herself, the stronger it +grew. "O God," she said, "how am I to stifle in my heart these +temptations of the devil? How am I to renounce forever these vile +fancies, so as peacefully to fulfill Thy will?" And scarcely had she +put that question than God gave her the answer in her own heart. +"Desire nothing for thyself, seek nothing, be not anxious or +envious. Man's future and thy own fate must remain hidden from thee, +but live so that thou mayest be ready for anything. If it be God's +will to prove thee in the duties of marriage, be ready to fulfill +His will." With this consoling thought (but yet with a hope for the +fulfillment of her forbidden earthly longing) Princess Mary sighed, +and having crossed herself went down, thinking neither of her gown and +coiffure nor of how she would go in nor of what she would say. What +could all that matter in comparison with the will of God, without +Whose care not a hair of man's head can fall? + +CHAPTER IV + +When Princess Mary came down, Prince Vasili and his son were already +in the drawing room, talking to the little princess and Mademoiselle +Bourienne. When she entered with her heavy step, treading on her +heels, the gentlemen and Mademoiselle Bourienne rose and the little +princess, indicating her to the gentlemen, said: "Voila Marie!" +Princess Mary saw them all and saw them in detail. She saw Prince +Vasili's face, serious for an instant at the sight of her, but +immediately smiling again, and the little princess curiously noting +the impression "Marie" produced on the visitors. And she saw +Mademoiselle Bourienne, with her ribbon and pretty face, and her +unusually animated look which was fixed on him, but him she could +not see, she only saw something large, brilliant, and handsome +moving toward her as she entered the room. Prince Vasili approached +first, and she kissed the bold forehead that bent over her hand and +answered his question by saying that, on the contrary, she +remembered him quite well. Then Anatole came up to her. She still +could not see him. She only felt a soft hand taking hers firmly, and +she touched with her lips a white forehead, over which was beautiful +light-brown hair smelling of pomade. When she looked up at him she was +struck by his beauty. Anatole stood with his right thumb under a +button of his uniform, his chest expanded and his back drawn in, +slightly swinging one foot, and, with his head a little bent, looked +with beaming face at the princess without speaking and evidently not +thinking about her at all. Anatole was not quick-witted, nor ready +or eloquent in conversation, but he had the faculty, so invaluable +in society, of composure and imperturbable self-possession. If a man +lacking in self-confidence remains dumb on a first introduction and +betrays a consciousness of the impropriety of such silence and an +anxiety to find something to say, the effect is bad. But Anatole was +dumb, swung his foot, and smilingly examined the princess' hair. It +was evident that he could be silent in this way for a very long +time. "If anyone finds this silence inconvenient, let him talk, but +I don't want to"' he seemed to say. Besides this, in his behavior to +women Anatole had a manner which particularly inspires in them +curiosity, awe, and even love- a supercilious consciousness of his own +superiority. It was was as if he said to them: "I know you, I know +you, but why should I bother about you? You'd be only too glad, of +course." Perhaps he did not really think this when he met women- +even probably he did not, for in general he thought very little- but +his looks and manner gave that impression. The princess felt this, and +as if wishing to show him that she did not even dare expect to +interest him, she turned to his father. The conversation was general +and animated, thanks to Princess Lise's voice and little downy lip +that lifted over her white teeth. She met Prince Vasili with that +playful manner often employed by lively chatty people, and +consisting in the assumption that between the person they so address +and themselves there are some semi-private, long-established jokes and +amusing reminiscences, though no such reminiscences really exist- just +as none existed in this case. Prince Vasili readily adopted her tone +and the little princess also drew Anatole, whom she hardly knew, +into these amusing recollections of things that had never occurred. +Mademoiselle Bourienne also shared them and even Princess Mary felt +herself pleasantly made to share in these merry reminiscences. + +"Here at least we shall have the benefit of your company all to +ourselves, dear prince," said the little princess (of course, in +French) to Prince Vasili. "It's not as at Annette's~^ receptions +where you always ran away; you remember cette chere Annette!" + +^~ Anna Pavlovna. + +"Ah, but you won't talk politics to me like Annette!" + +"And our little tea table?" + +"Oh, yes!" + +"Why is it you were never at Annette's?" the little princess asked +Anatole. "Ah, I know, I know," she said with a sly glance, "your +brother Hippolyte told me about your goings on. Oh!" and she shook her +finger at him, "I have even heard of your doings in Paris!" + +"And didn't Hippolyte tell you?" asked Prince Vasili, turning to his +son and seizing the little princess' arm as if she would have run away +and he had just managed to catch her, "didn't he tell you how he +himself was pining for the dear princess, and how she showed him the +door? Oh, she is a pearl among women, Princess," he added, turning +to Princess Mary. + +When Paris was mentioned, Mademoiselle Bourienne for her part seized +the opportunity of joining in the general current of recollections. + +She took the liberty of inquiring whether it was long since +Anatole had left Paris and how he had liked that city. Anatole +answered the Frenchwoman very readily and, looking at her with a +smile, talked to her about her native land. When he saw the pretty +little Bourienne, Anatole came to the conclusion that he would not +find Bald Hills dull either. "Not at all bad!" he thought, examining +her, "not at all bad, that little companion! I hope she will bring her +along with her when we're married, la petite est gentille."~^ + +^~ The little one is charming. + +The old prince dressed leisurely in his study, frowning and +considering what he was to do. The coming of these visitors annoyed +him. "What are Prince Vasili and that son of his to me? Prince +Vasili is a shallow braggart and his son, no doubt, is a fine +specimen," he grumbled to himself. What angered him was that the +coming of these visitors revived in his mind an unsettled question +he always tried to stifle, one about which he always deceived himself. +The question was whether he could ever bring himself to part from +his daughter and give her to a husband. The prince never directly +asked himself that question, knowing beforehand that he would have +to answer it justly, and justice clashed not only with his feelings +but with the very possibility of life. Life without Princess Mary, +little as he seemed to value her, was unthinkable to him. "And why +should she marry?" he thought. "To be unhappy for certain. There's +Lise, married to Andrew- a better husband one would think could hardly +be found nowadays- but is she contented with her lot? And who would +marry Marie for love? Plain and awkward! They'll take her for her +connections and wealth. Are there no women living unmarried, and +even the happier for it?" So thought Prince Bolkonski while +dressing, and yet the question he was always putting off demanded an +immediate answer. Prince Vasili had brought his son with the evident +intention of proposing, and today or tomorrow he would probably ask +for an answer. His birth and position in society were not bad. +"Well, I've nothing against it," the prince said to himself, "but he +must be worthy of her. And that is what we shall see." + +"That is what we shall see! That is what we shall see!" he added +aloud. + +He entered the drawing room with his usual alert step, glancing +rapidly round the company. He noticed the change in the little +princess' dress, Mademoiselle Bourienne's ribbon, Princess Mary's +unbecoming coiffure, Mademoiselle Bourienne's and Anatole's smiles, +and the loneliness of his daughter amid the general conversation. "Got +herself up like a fool!" he thought, looking irritably at her. "She is +shameless, and he ignores her!" + +He went straight up to Prince Vasili. + +"Well! How d'ye do? How d'ye do? Glad to see you!" + +"Friendship laughs at distance," began Prince Vasili in his usual +rapid, self-confident, familiar tone. "Here is my second son; please +love and befriend him." + +Prince Bolkonski surveyed Anatole. + +"Fine young fellow! Fine young fellow!" he said. "Well, come and +kiss me," and he offered his cheek. + +Anatole kissed the old man, and looked at him with curiosity and +perfect composure, waiting for a display of the eccentricities his +father had told him to expect. + +Prince Bolkonski sat down in his usual place in the corner of the +sofa and, drawing up an armchair for Prince Vasili, pointed to it +and began questioning him about political affairs and news. He +seemed to listen attentively to what Prince Vasili said, but kept +glancing at Princess Mary. + +"And so they are writing from Potsdam already?" he said, repeating +Prince Vasili's last words. Then rising, he suddenly went up to his +daughter. + +"Is it for visitors you've got yourself up like that, eh?" said +he. "Fine, very fine! You have done up your hair in this new way for +the visitors, and before the visitors I tell you that in future you +are never to dare to change your way of dress without my consent." + +"It was my fault, mon pere," interceded the little princess, with +a blush. + +"You must do as you please," said Prince Bolkonski, bowing to his +daughter-in-law, "but she need not make a fool of herself, she's plain +enough as it is." + +And he sat down again, paying no more attention to his daughter, who +was reduced to tears. + +"On the contrary, that coiffure suits the princess very well," +said Prince Vasili. + +"Now you, young prince, what's your name?" said Prince Bolkonski, +turning to Anatole, "come here, let us talk and get acquainted." + +"Now the fun begins," thought Anatole, sitting down with a smile +beside the old prince. + +"Well, my dear boy, I hear you've been educated abroad, not taught +to read and write by the deacon, like your father and me. Now tell me, +my dear boy, are you serving in the Horse Guards?" asked the old +man, scrutinizing Anatole closely and intently. + +"No, I have been transferred to the line," said Anatole, hardly able +to restrain his laughter. + +"Ah! That's a good thing. So, my dear boy, you wish to serve the +Tsar and the country? It is wartime. Such a fine fellow must serve. +Well, are you off to the front?" + +"No, Prince, our regiment has gone to the front, but I am +attached... what is it I am attached to, Papa?" said Anatole, +turning to his father with a laugh. + +"A splendid soldier, splendid! 'What am I attached to!' Ha, ha, ha!" +laughed Prince Bolkonski, and Anatole laughed still louder. Suddenly +Prince Bolkonski frowned. + +"You may go," he said to Anatole. + +Anatole returned smiling to the ladies. + +"And so you've had him educated abroad, Prince Vasili, haven't you?" +said the old prince to Prince Vasili. + +"I have done my best for him, and I can assure you the education +there is much better than ours." + +"Yes, everything is different nowadays, everything is changed. The +lad's a fine fellow, a fine fellow! Well, come with me now." He took +Prince Vasili's arm and led him to his study. As soon as they were +alone together, Prince Vasili announced his hopes and wishes to the +old prince. + +"Well, do you think I shall prevent her, that I can't part from +her?" said the old prince angrily. "What an idea! I'm ready for it +tomorrow! Only let me tell you, I want to know my son-in-law better. +You know my principles- everything aboveboard? I will ask her tomorrow +in your presence; if she is willing, then he can stay on. He can +stay and I'll see." The old prince snorted. "Let her marry, it's all +the same to me!" he screamed in the same piercing tone as when parting +from his son. + +"I will tell you frankly," said Prince Vasili in the tone of a +crafty man convinced of the futility of being cunning with so +keen-sighted companion. "You know, you see right through people. +Anatole is no genius, but he is an honest, goodhearted lad; an +excellent son or kinsman." + +"All right, all right, we'll see!" + +As always happens when women lead lonely lives for any length of +time without male society, on Anatole's appearance all the three women +of Prince Bolkonski's household felt that their life had not been real +till then. Their powers of reasoning, feeling, and observing +immediately increased tenfold, and their life, which seemed to have +been passed in darkness, was suddenly lit up by a new brightness, full +of significance. + +Princess Mary grew quite unconscious of her face and coiffure. The +handsome open face of the man who might perhaps be her husband +absorbed all her attention. He seemed to her kind, brave, +determined, manly, and magnanimous. She felt convinced of that. +Thousands of dreams of a future family life continually rose in her +imagination. She drove them away and tried to conceal them. + +"But am I not too cold with him?" thought the princess. "I try to be +reserved because in the depth of my soul I feel too near to him +already, but then he cannot know what I think of him and may imagine +that I do not like him." + +And Princess Mary tried, but could not manage, to be cordial to +her new guest. "Poor girl, she's devilish ugly!" thought Anatole. + +Mademoiselle Bourienne, also roused to great excitement by Anatole's +arrival, thought in another way. Of course, she, a handsome young +woman without any definite position, without relations or even a +country, did not intend to devote her life to serving Prince +Bolkonski, to reading aloud to him and being friends with Princess +Mary. Mademoiselle Bourienne had long been waiting for a Russian +prince who, able to appreciate at a glance her superiority to the +plain, badly dressed, ungainly Russian princesses, would fall in +love with her and carry her off; and here at last was a Russian +prince. Mademoiselle Bourienne knew a story, heard from her aunt but +finished in her own way, which she liked to repeat to herself. It +was the story of a girl who had been seduced, and to whom her poor +mother (sa pauvre mere) appeared, and reproached her for yielding to a +man without being married. Mademoiselle Bourienne was often touched to +tears as in imagination she told this story to him, her seducer. And +now he, a real Russian prince, had appeared. He would carry her away +and then sa pauvre mere would appear and he would marry her. So her +future shaped itself in Mademoiselle Bourienne's head at the very time +she was talking to Anatole about Paris. It was not calculation that +guided her (she did not even for a moment consider what she should +do), but all this had long been familiar to her, and now that +Anatole had appeared it just grouped itself around him and she +wished and tried to please him as much as possible. + +The little princess, like an old war horse that hears the trumpet, +unconsciously and quite forgetting her condition, prepared for the +familiar gallop of coquetry, without any ulterior motive or any +struggle, but with naive and lighthearted gaiety. + +Although in female society Anatole usually assumed the role of a man +tired of being run after by women, his vanity was flattered by the +spectacle of his power over these three women. Besides that, he was +beginning to feel for the pretty and provocative Mademoiselle +Bourienne that passionate animal feeling which was apt to master him +with great suddenness and prompt him to the coarsest and most reckless +actions. + +After tea, the company went into the sitting room and Princess +Mary was asked to play on the clavichord. Anatole, laughing and in +high spirits, came and leaned on his elbows, facing her and beside +Mademoiselle Bourienne. Princess Mary felt his look with a painfully +joyous emotion. Her favorite sonata bore her into a most intimately +poetic world and the look she felt upon her made that world still more +poetic. But Anatole's expression, though his eyes were fixed on her, +referred not to her but to the movements of Mademoiselle Bourienne's +little foot, which he was then touching with his own under the +clavichord. Mademoiselle Bourienne was also looking at Princess +Mary, and in her lovely eyes there was a look of fearful joy and +hope that was also new to the princess. + +"How she loves me!" thought Princess Mary. "How happy I am now, +and how happy I may be with such a friend and such a husband! Husband? +Can it be possible?" she thought, not daring to look at his face, +but still feeling his eyes gazing at her. + +In the evening, after supper, when all were about to retire, Anatole +kissed Princess Mary's hand. She did not know how she found the +courage, but she looked straight into his handsome face as it came +near to her shortsighted eyes. Turning from Princess Mary he went up +and kissed Mademoiselle Bourienne's hand. (This was not etiquette, but +then he did everything so simply and with such assurance!) +Mademoiselle Bourienne flushed, and gave the princess a frightened +look. + +"What delicacy! " thought the princess. "Is it possible that Amelie" +(Mademoiselle Bourienne) "thinks I could be jealous of her, and not +value her pure affection and devotion to me?" She went up to her and +kissed her warmly. Anatole went up to kiss the little princess' hand. + +"No! No! No! When your father writes to tell me that you are +behaving well I will give you my hand to kiss. Not till then!" she +said. And smilingly raising a finger at him, she left the room. + +CHAPTER V + +They all separated, but, except Anatole who fell asleep as soon as +he got into bed, all kept awake a long time that night. + +"Is he really to be my husband, this stranger who is so kind- yes, +kind, that is the chief thing," thought Princess Mary; and fear, which +she had seldom experienced, came upon her. She feared to look round, +it seemed to her that someone was there standing behind the screen +in the dark corner. And this someone was he- the devil- and he was +also this man with the white forehead, black eyebrows, and red lips. + +She rang for her maid and asked her to sleep in her room. + +Mademoiselle Bourienne walked up and down the conservatory for a +long time that evening, vainly expecting someone, now smiling at +someone, now working herself up to tears with the imaginary words of +her pauvre mere rebuking her for her fall. + +The little princess grumbled to her maid that her bed was badly +made. She could not lie either on her face or on her side. Every +position was awkward and uncomfortable, and her burden oppressed her +now more than ever because Anatole's presence had vividly recalled +to her the time when she was not like that and when everything was +light and gay. She sat in an armchair in her dressing jacket and +nightcap and Katie, sleepy and disheveled, beat and turned the heavy +feather bed for the third time, muttering to herself. + +"I told you it was all lumps and holes!" the little princess +repeated. "I should be glad enough to fall asleep, so it's not my +fault!" and her voice quivered like that of a child about to cry. + +The old prince did not sleep either. Tikhon, half asleep, heard +him pacing angrily about and snorting. The old prince felt as though + +he had been insulted through his daughter. The insult was the more +pointed because it concerned not himself but another, his daughter, +whom he loved more than himself. He kept telling himself that he would +consider the whole matter and decide what was right and how he +should act, but instead of that he only excited himself more and more. + +"The first man that turns up- she forgets her father and +everything else, runs upstairs and does up her hair and wags her +tail and is unlike herself! Glad to throw her father over! And she +knew I should notice it. Fr... fr... fr! And don't I see that that +idiot had eyes only for Bourienne- I shall have to get rid of her. And +how is it she has not pride enough to see it? If she has no pride +for herself she might at least have some for my sake! She must be +shown that the blockhead thinks nothing of her and looks only at +Bourienne. No, she has no pride... but I'll let her see...." + +The old prince knew that if he told his daughter she was making a +mistake and that Anatole meant to flirt with Mademoiselle Bourienne, +Princess Mary's self-esteem would be wounded and his point (not to +be parted from her) would be gained, so pacifying himself with this +thought, he called Tikhon and began to undress. + +"What devil brought them here?" thought he, while Tikhon was putting +the nightshirt over his dried-up old body and gray-haired chest. "I +never invited them. They came to disturb my life- and there is not +much of it left." + +"Devil take 'em!" he muttered, while his head was still covered by +the shirt. + +Tikhon knew his master's habit of sometimes thinking aloud, and +therefore met with unaltered looks the angrily inquisitive +expression of the face that emerged from the shirt. + +"Gone to bed?" asked the prince. + +Tikhon, like all good valets, instinctively knew the direction of +his master's thoughts. He guessed that the question referred to Prince +Vasili and his son. + +"They have gone to bed and put out their lights, your excellency." + +"No good... no good..." said the prince rapidly, and thrusting his +feet into his slippers and his arms into the sleeves of his dressing +gown, he went to the couch on which he slept. + +Though no words had passed between Anatole and Mademoiselle +Bourienne, they quite understood one another as to the first part of +their romance, up to the appearance of the pauvre mere; they +understood that they had much to say to one another in private and +so they had been seeking an opportunity since morning to meet one +another alone. When Princess Mary went to her father's room at the +usual hour, Mademoiselle Bourienne and Anatole met in the +conservatory. + +Princess Mary went to the door of the study with special +trepidation. It seemed to her that not only did everybody know that +her fate would be decided that day, but that they also knew what she +thought about it. She read this in Tikhon's face and in that of Prince +Vasili's valet, who made her a low bow when she met him in the +corridor carrying hot water. + +The old prince was very affectionate and careful in his treatment of +his daughter that morning. Princess Mary well knew this painstaking +expression of her father's. His face wore that expression when his dry +hands clenched with vexation at her not understanding a sum in +arithmetic, when rising from his chair he would walk away from her, +repeating in a low voice the same words several times over. + +He came to the point at once, treating her ceremoniously. + +"I have had a proposition made me concerning you," he said with an +unnatural smile. "I expect you have guessed that Prince Vasili has not +come and brought his pupil with him" (for some reason Prince Bolkonski +referred to Anatole as a "pupil") "for the sake of my beautiful +eyes. Last night a proposition was made me on your account and, as you +know my principles, I refer it to you." + +"How am I to understand you, mon pere?" said the princess, growing +pale and then blushing. + +"How understand me!" cried her father angrily. "Prince Vasili +finds you to his taste as a daughter-in-law and makes a proposal to +you on his pupil's behalf. That's how it's to be understood! 'How +understand it'!... And I ask you!" + +"I do not know what you think, Father," whispered the princess. + +"I? I? What of me? Leave me out of the question. I'm not going to +get married. What about you? That's what I want to know." + +The princess saw that her father regarded the matter with +disapproval, but at that moment the thought occurred to her that her +fate would be decided now or never. She lowered her eyes so as not +to see the gaze under which she felt that she could not think, but +would only be able to submit from habit, and she said: "I wish only to +do your will, but if I had to express my own desire..." She had no +time to finish. The old prince interrupted her. + +"That's admirable!" he shouted. "He will take you with your dowry +and take Mademoiselle Bourienne into the bargain. She'll be the +wife, while you..." + +The prince stopped. He saw the effect these words had produced on +his daughter. She lowered her head and was ready to burst into tears. + +"Now then, now then, I'm only joking!" he said. "Remember this, +Princess, I hold to the principle that a maiden has a full right to +choose. I give you freedom. Only remember that your life's happiness +depends on your decision. Never mind me!" + +"But I do not know, Father!" + +"There's no need to talk! He receives his orders and will marry +you or anybody; but you are free to choose.... Go to your room, +think it over, and come back in an hour and tell me in his presence: +yes or no. I know you will pray over it. Well, pray if you like, but +you had better think it over. Go! Yes or no, yes or no, yes or no!" he +still shouted when the princess, as if lost in a fog, had already +staggered out of the study. + +Her fate was decided and happily decided. But what her father had +said about Mademoiselle Bourienne was dreadful. It was untrue to be +sure, but still it was terrible, and she could not help thinking of +it. She was going straight on through the conservatory, neither seeing +nor hearing anything, when suddenly the well-known whispering of +Mademoiselle Bourienne aroused her. She raised her eyes, and two steps +away saw Anatole embracing the Frenchwoman and whispering something to +her. With a horrified expression on his handsome face, Anatole +looked at Princess Mary, but did not at once take his arm from the +waist of Mademoiselle Bourienne who had not yet seen her. + +"Who's that? Why? Wait a moment!" Anatole's face seemed to say. +Princess Mary looked at them in silence. She could not understand +it. At last Mademoiselle Bourienne gave a scream and ran away. Anatole +bowed to Princess Mary with a gay smile, as if inviting her to join in +a laugh at this strange incident, and then shrugging his shoulders +went to the door that led to his own apartments. + +An hour later, Tikhon came to call Princess Mary to the old +prince; he added that Prince Vasili was also there. When Tikhon came +to her Princess Mary was sitting on the sofa in her room, holding +the weeping Mademoiselle Bourienne in her arms and gently stroking her +hair. The princess' beautiful eyes with all their former calm radiance +were looking with tender affection and pity at Mademoiselle +Bourienne's pretty face. + +"No, Princess, I have lost your affection forever!" said +Mademoiselle Bourienne. + +"Why? I love you more than ever," said Princess Mary, "and I will +try to do all I can for your happiness." + +"But you despise me. You who are so pure can never understand +being so carried away by passion. Oh, only my poor mother..." + +"I quite understand," answered Princess Mary, with a sad smile. +"Calm yourself, my dear. I will go to my father," she said, and went +out. + +Prince Vasili, with one leg thrown high over the other and a +snuffbox in his hand, was sitting there with a smile of deep emotion +on his face, as if stirred to his heart's core and himself +regretting and laughing at his own sensibility, when Princess Mary +entered. He hurriedly took a pinch of snuff. + +"Ah, my dear, my dear!" he began, rising and taking her by both +hands. Then, sighing, he added: "My son's fate is in your hands. +Decide, my dear, good, gentle Marie, whom I have always loved as a +daughter!" + +He drew back and a real tear appeared in his eye. + +"Fr... fr..." snorted Prince Bolkonski. "The prince is making a +proposition to you in his pupil's- I mean, his son's- name. Do you +wish or not to be Prince Anatole Kuragin's wife? Reply: yes or no," he +shouted, "and then I shall reserve the right to state my opinion also. +Yes, my opinion, and only my opinion," added Prince Bolkonski, turning +to Prince Vasili and answering his imploring look. "Yes, or no?" + +"My desire is never to leave you, Father, never to separate my +life from yours. I don't wish to marry," she answered positively, +glancing at Prince Vasili and at her father with her beautiful eyes. + +"Humbug! Nonsense! Humbug, humbug, humbug!" cried Prince +Bolkonski, frowning and taking his daughter's hand; he did not kiss +her, but only bending his forehead to hers just touched it, and +pressed her hand so that she winced and uttered a cry. + +Prince Vasili rose. + +"My dear, I must tell you that this is a moment I shall never, never +forget. But, my dear, will you not give us a little hope of touching +this heart, so kind and generous? Say 'perhaps'... The future is so +long. Say 'perhaps.'" + +"Prince, what I have said is all there is in my heart. I thank you +for the honor, but I shall never be your son's wife." + +"Well, so that's finished, my dear fellow! I am very glad to have +seen you. Very glad! Go back to your rooms, Princess. Go!" said the +old prince. "Very, very glad to glad to have seen you," repeated he, +embracing Prince Vasili. + +"My vocation is a different one," thought Princess Mary. "My +vocation is to be happy with another kind of happiness, the +happiness of love and self-sacrifice. And cost what it may, I will +arrange poor Amelie's happiness, she loves him so passionately, and so +passionately repents. I will do all I can to arrange the match between +them. If he is not rich I will give her the means; I will ask my +father and Andrew. I shall be so happy when she is his wife. She is so +unfortunate, a stranger, alone, helpless! And, oh God, how +passionately she must love him if she could so far forget herself! +Perhaps I might have done the same!..." thought Princess Mary. + +CHAPTER VI + +It was long since the Rostovs had news of Nicholas. Not till +midwinter was the count at last handed a letter addressed in his son's +handwriting. On receiving it, he ran on tiptoe to his study in alarm +and haste, trying to escape notice, closed the door, and began to read +the letter. + +Anna Mikhaylovna, who always knew everything that passed in the +house, on hearing of the arrival of the letter went softly into the +room and found the count with it in his hand, sobbing and laughing +at the same time. + +Anna Mikhaylovna, though her circumstances had improved, was still +living with the Rostovs. + +"My dear friend?" said she, in a tone of pathetic inquiry, +prepared to sympathize in any way. + +The count sobbed yet more. + +"Nikolenka... a letter... wa... a... s... wounded... my darling +boy... the countess... promoted to be an officer... thank God... How +tell the little countess!" + +Anna Mikhaylovna sat down beside him, with her own handkerchief +wiped the tears from his eyes and from the letter, then having dried +her own eyes she comforted the count, and decided that at dinner and +till teatime she would prepare the countess, and after tea, with God's +help, would inform her. + +At dinner Anna Mikhaylovna talked the whole time about the war +news and about Nikolenka, twice asked when the last letter had been +received from him, though she knew that already, and remarked that +they might very likely be getting a letter from him that day. Each +time that these hints began to make the countess anxious and she +glanced uneasily at the count and at Anna Mikhaylovna, the latter very +adroitly turned the conversation to insignificant matters. Natasha, +who, of the whole family, was the most gifted with a capacity to +feel any shades of intonation, look, and expression, pricked up her +ears from the beginning of the meal and was certain that there was +some secret between her father and Anna Mikhaylovna, that it had +something to do with her brother, and that Anna Mikhaylovna was +preparing them for it. Bold as she was, Natasha, who knew how +sensitive her mother was to anything relating to Nikolenka, did not +venture to ask any questions at dinner, but she was too excited to eat +anything and kept wriggling about on her chair regardless of her +governess' remarks. After dinner, she rushed head long after Anna +Mikhaylovna and, dashing at her, flung herself on her neck as soon +as she overtook her in the sitting room. + +"Auntie, darling, do tell me what it is!" + +"Nothing, my dear." + +"No, dearest, sweet one, honey, I won't give up- I know you know +something." + +Anna Mikhaylovna shook her head. + +"You are a little slyboots," she said. + +"A letter from Nikolenka! I'm sure of it!" exclaimed Natasha, +reading confirmation in Anna Mikhaylovna's face. + +"But for God's sake, be careful, you know how it may affect your +mamma." + +"I will, I will, only tell me! You won't? Then I will go and tell at +once." + +Anna Mikhaylovna, in a few words, told her the contents of the +letter, on condition that she should tell no one. + +"No, on my true word of honor," said Natasha,crossing herself, "I +won't tell anyone!" and she ran off at once to Sonya. + +"Nikolenka... wounded... a letter," she announced in gleeful +triumph. + +"Nicholas!" was all Sonya said, instantly turning white. + +Natasha, seeing the impression the of her brother's wound produced +on Sonya, felt for the first time the sorrowful side of the news. + +She rushed to Sonya, hugged her, and began to cry. + +"A little wound, but he has been made an officer; he is well now, he +wrote himself," said she through her tears. + +"There now! It's true that all you women are crybabies," remarked +Petya, pacing the room with large, resolute strides. "Now I'm very +glad, very glad indeed, that my brother has distinguished himself +so. You are all blubberers and understand nothing." + +Natasha smiled through her tears. + +"You haven't read the letter?" asked Sonya. + +"No, but she said that it was all over and that he's now an +officer." + +"Thank God!" said Sonya, crossing herself. "But perhaps she deceived +you. Let us go to Mamma." + +Petya paced the room in silence for a time. + +"If I'd been in Nikolenka's place I would have killed even more of +those Frenchmen," he said. "What nasty brutes they are! I'd have +killed so many that there'd have been a heap of them." + +"Hold your tongue, Petya, what a goose you are!" + +"I'm not a goose, but they are who cry about trifles," said Petya. + +"Do you remember him?" Natasha suddenly asked, after a moment's +silence. + +Sonya smiled. + +"Do I remember Nicholas?" + +"No, Sonya, but do you remember so that you remember him +perfectly, remember everything?" said Natasha, with an expressive +gesture, evidently wishing to give her words a very definite +meaning. "I remember Nikolenka too, I remember him well," she said. +"But I don't remember Boris. I don't remember him a bit." + +"What! You don't remember Boris?" asked Sonya in surprise. + +"It's not that I don't remember- I know what he is like, but not +as I remember Nikolenka. Him- I just shut my eyes and remember, but +Boris... No!" (She shut her eyes.)"No! there's nothing at all." + +"Oh, Natasha!" said Sonya, looking ecstatically and earnestly at her +friend as if she did not consider her worthy to hear what she meant to +say and as if she were saying it to someone else, with whom joking was +out of the question, "I am in love with your brother once for all and, +whatever may happen to him or to me, shall never cease to love him +as long as I live." + +Natasha looked at Sonya with wondering and inquisitive eyes, and +said nothing. She felt that Sonya was speaking the truth, that there +was such love as Sonya was speaking of. But Natasha had not yet felt +anything like it. She believed it could be, but did not understand it. + +"Shall you write to him?" she asked. + +Sonya became thoughtful. The question of how to write to Nicholas, +and whether she ought to write, tormented her. Now that he was already +an officer and a wounded hero, would it be right to remind him of +herself and, as it might seem, of the obligations to her he had +taken on himself? + +"I don't know. I think if he writes, I will write too," she said, +blushing. + +"And you won't feel ashamed to write to him?" + +Sonya smiled. + +"No." + +"And I should be ashamed to write to Boris. I'm not going to." + +"Why should you be ashamed?" + +"Well, I don't know. It's awkward and would make me ashamed." + +"And I know why she'd be ashamed," said Petya, offended by Natasha's +previous remark. "It's because she was in love with that fat one in +spectacles" (that was how Petya described his namesake, the new +Count Bezukhov) "and now she's in love with that singer" (he meant +Natasha's Italian singing master), "that's why she's ashamed!" + +"Petya, you're a stupid!" said Natasha. + +"Not more stupid than you, madam," said the nine-year-old Petya, +with the air of an old brigadier. + +The countess had been prepared by Anna Mikhaylovna's hints at +dinner. On retiring to her own room, she sat in an armchair, her +eyes fixed on a miniature portrait of her son on the lid of a +snuffbox, while the tears kept coming into her eyes. Anna Mikhaylovna, +with the letter, came on tiptoe to the countess' door and paused. + +"Don't come in," she said to the old count who was following her. +"Come later." And she went in, closing the door behind her. + +The count put his ear to the keyhole and listened. + +At first he heard the sound of indifferent voices, then Anna +Mikhaylovna's voice alone in a long speech, then a cry, then +silence, then both voices together with glad intonations, and then +footsteps. Anna Mikhaylovna opened the door. Her face wore the proud +expression of a surgeon who has just performed a difficult operation +and admits the public to appreciate his skill. + +"It is done!" she said to the count, pointing triumphantly to the +countess, who sat holding in one hand the snuffbox with its portrait +and in the other the letter, and pressing them alternately to her +lips. + +When she saw the count, she stretched out her arms to him, +embraced his bald head, over which she again looked at the letter +and the portrait, and in order to press them again to her lips, she +slightly pushed away the bald head. Vera, Natasha, Sonya, and Petya +now entered the room, and the reading of the letter began. After a +brief description of the campaign and the two battles in which he +had taken part, and his promotion, Nicholas said that he kissed his +father's and mother's hands asking for their blessing, and that he +kissed Vera, Natasha, and Petya. Besides that, he sent greetings to +Monsieur Schelling, Madame Schoss, and his old nurse, and asked them +to kiss for him "dear Sonya, whom he loved and thought of just the +same as ever." When she heard this Sonya blushed so that tears came +into her eyes and, unable to bear the looks turned upon her, ran +away into the dancing hall, whirled round it at full speed with her +dress puffed out like a balloon, and, flushed and smiling, plumped +down on the floor. The countess was crying. + +"Why are you crying, Mamma?" asked Vera. "From all he says one +should be glad and not cry." + +This was quite true, but the count, the countess, and Natasha looked +at her reproachfully. "And who is it she takes after?" thought the +countess. + +Nicholas' letter was read over hundreds of times, and those who were +considered worthy to hear it had to come to the countess, for she +did not let it out of her hands. The tutors came, and the nurses, +and Dmitri, and several acquaintances, and the countess reread the +letter each time with fresh pleasure and each time discovered in it +fresh proofs of Nikolenka's virtues. How strange, how extraordinary, +how joyful it seemed, that her son, the scarcely perceptible motion of +whose tiny limbs she had felt twenty years ago within her, that son +about whom she used to have quarrels with the too indulgent count, +that son who had first learned to say "pear" and then "granny," that +this son should now be away in a foreign land amid strange +surroundings, a manly warrior doing some kind of man's work of his +own, without help or guidance. The universal experience of ages, +showing that children do grow imperceptibly from the cradle to +manhood, did not exist for the countess. Her son's growth toward +manhood, at each of its stages, had seemed as extraordinary to her +as if there had never existed the millions of human beings who grew up +in the same way. As twenty years before, it seemed impossible that the +little creature who lived somewhere under her heart would ever cry, +suck her breast, and begin to speak, so now she could not believe that +that little creature could be this strong, brave man, this model son +and officer that, judging by this letter, he now was. + +"What a style! How charmingly he describes!" said she, reading the +descriptive part of the letter. "And what a soul! Not a word about +himself.... Not a word! About some Denisov or other, though he +himself, I dare say, is braver than any of them. He says nothing about +his sufferings. What a heart! How like him it is! And how he has +remembered everybody! Not forgetting anyone. I always said when he was +only so high- I always said...." + +For more than a week preparations were being made, rough drafts of +letters to Nicholas from all the household were written and copied +out, while under the supervision of the countess and the solicitude of +the count, money and all things necessary for the uniform and +equipment of the newly commissioned officer were collected. Anna +Mikhaylovna, practical woman that she was, had even managed by favor +with army authorities to secure advantageous means of communication +for herself and her son. She had opportunities of sending her +letters to the Grand Duke Constantine Pavlovich, who commanded the +Guards. The Rostovs supposed that The Russian Guards, Abroad, was +quite a definite address, and that if a letter reached the Grand +Duke in command of the Guards there was no reason why it should not +reach the Pavlograd regiment, which was presumably somewhere in the +same neighborhood. And so it was decided to send the letters and money +by the Grand Duke's courier to Boris and Boris was to forward them +to Nicholas. The letters were from the old count, the countess, Petya, +Vera, Natasha, and Sonya, and finally there were six thousand rubles +for his outfit and various other things the old count sent to his son. + +CHAPTER VII + +On the twelfth of November, Kutuzov's active army, in camp before +Olmutz, was preparing to be reviewed next day by the two Emperors- the +Russian and the Austrian. The Guards, just arrived from Russia, +spent the night ten miles from Olmutz and next morning were to come +straight to the review, reaching the field at Olmutz by ten o'clock. + +That day Nicholas Rostov received a letter from Boris, telling him +that the Ismaylov regiment was quartered for the night ten miles +from Olmutz and that he wanted to see him as he had a letter and money +for him. Rostov was particularly in need of money now that the troops, +after their active service, were stationed near Olmutz and the camp +swarmed with well-provisioned sutlers and Austrian Jews offering all +sorts of tempting wares. The Pavlograds held feast after feast, +celebrating awards they had received for the campaign, and made +expeditions to Olmutz to visit a certain Caroline the Hungarian, who +had recently opened a restaurant there with girls as waitresses. +Rostov, who had just celebrated his promotion to a cornetcy and bought +Denisov's horse, Bedouin, was in debt all round, to his comrades and +the sutlers. On receiving Boris' letter he rode with a fellow +officer to Olmutz, dined there, drank a bottle of wine, and then set +off alone to the Guards' camp to find his old playmate. Rostov had not +yet had time to get his uniform. He had on a shabby cadet jacket, +decorated with a soldier's cross, equally shabby cadet's riding +breeches lined with worn leather, and an officer's saber with a +sword knot. The Don horse he was riding was one he had bought from a +Cossack during the campaign, and he wore a crumpled hussar cap stuck +jauntily back on one side of his head. As he rode up to the camp he +thought how he would impress Boris and all his comrades of the +Guards by his appearance- that of a fighting hussar who had been under +fire. + +The Guards had made their whole march as if on a pleasure trip, +parading their cleanliness and discipline. They had come by easy +stages, their knapsacks conveyed on carts, and the Austrian +authorities had provided excellent dinners for the officers at every +halting place. The regiments had entered and left the town with +their bands playing, and by the Grand Duke's orders the men had +marched all the way in step (a practice on which the Guards prided +themselves), the officers on foot and at their proper posts. Boris had +been quartered, and had marched all the way, with Berg who was already +in command of a company. Berg, who had obtained his captaincy during +the campaign, had gained the confidence of his superiors by his +promptitude and accuracy and had arranged his money matters very +satisfactorily. Boris, during the campaign, had made the +acquaintance of many persons who might prove useful to him, and by a +letter of recommendation he had brought from Pierre had become +acquainted with Prince Andrew Bolkonski, through whom he hoped to +obtain a post on the commander in chief's staff. Berg and Boris, +having rested after yesterday's march, were sitting, clean and +neatly dressed, at a round table in the clean quarters allotted to +them, playing chess. Berg held a smoking pipe between his knees. +Boris, in the accurate way characteristic of him, was building a +little pyramid of chessmen with his delicate white fingers while +awaiting Berg's move, and watched his opponent's face, evidently +thinking about the game as he always thought only of whatever he was +engaged on. + +"Well, how are you going to get out of that?" he remarked. + +"We'll try to," replied Berg, touching a pawn and then removing +his hand. + +At that moment the door opened. + +"Here he is at last!" shouted Rostov. "And Berg too! Oh, you +petisenfans, allay cushay dormir!" he exclaimed, imitating his Russian +nurse's French, at which he and Boris used to laugh long ago. + +"Dear me, how you have changed!" + +Boris rose to meet Rostov, but in doing so did not omit to steady +and replace some chessmen that were falling. He was about to embrace +his friend, but Nicholas avoided him. With that peculiar feeling of +youth, that dread of beaten tracks, and wish to express itself in a +manner different from that of its elders which is often insincere, +Nicholas wished to do something special on meeting his friend. He +wanted to pinch him, push him, do anything but kiss him- a thing +everybody did. But notwithstanding this, Boris embraced him in a +quiet, friendly way and kissed him three times. + +They had not met for nearly half a year and, being at the age when +young men take their first steps on life's road, each saw immense +changes in the other, quite a new reflection of the society in which +they had taken those first steps. Both had changed greatly since +they last met and both were in a hurry to show the changes that had +taken place in them. + +"Oh, you damned dandies! Clean and fresh as if you'd been to a fete, +not like us sinners of the line," cried Rostov, with martial swagger +and with baritone notes in his voice, new to Boris, pointing to his +own mud-bespattered breeches. The German landlady, hearing Rostov's +loud voice, popped her head in at the door. + +"Eh, is she pretty?" he asked with a wink. + +"Why do you shout so? You'll frighten them!" said Boris. "I did +not expect you today," he added. "I only sent you the note yesterday +by Bolkonski- an adjutant of Kutuzov's, who's a friend of mine. I +did not think he would get it to you so quickly.... Well, how are you? +Been under fire already?" asked Boris. + +Without answering, Rostov shook the soldier's Cross of St. George +fastened to the cording of his uniform and, indicating a bandaged arm, +glanced at Berg with a smile. + +"As you see," he said. + +"Indeed? Yes, yes!" said Boris, with a smile. "And we too have had a +splendid march. You know, of course, that His Imperial Highness rode +with our regiment all the time, so that we had every comfort and every +advantage. What receptions we had in Poland! What dinners and balls! I +can't tell you. And the Tsarevich was very gracious to all our +officers." + +And the two friends told each other of their doings, the one of +his hussar revels and life in the fighting line, the other of the +pleasures and advantages of service under members of the Imperial +family. + +"Oh, you Guards!" said Rostov. "I say, send for some wine." + +Boris made a grimace. + +"If you really want it," said he. + +He went to his bed, drew a purse from under the clean pillow, and +sent for wine. + +"Yes, and I have some money and a letter to give you," he added. + +Rostov took the letter and, throwing the money on the sofa, put both +arms on the table and began to read. After reading a few lines, he +glanced angrily at Berg, then, meeting his eyes, hid his face behind +the letter. + +"Well, they've sent you a tidy sum," said Berg, eying the heavy +purse that sank into the sofa. "As for us, Count, we get along on +our pay. I can tell you for myself..." + +"I say, Berg, my dear fellow," said Rostov, "when you get a letter +from home and meet one of your own people whom you want to talk +everything over with, and I happen to be there, I'll go at once, to be +out of your way! Do go somewhere, anywhere... to the devil!" he +exclaimed, and immediately seizing him by the shoulder and looking +amiably into his face, evidently wishing to soften the rudeness of his +words, he added, "Don't be hurt, my dear fellow; you know I speak from +my heart as to an old acquaintance." + +"Oh, don't mention it, Count! I quite understand," said Berg, +getting up and speaking in a muffled and guttural voice. + +"Go across to our hosts: they invited you," added Boris. + +Berg put on the cleanest of coats, without a spot or speck of +dust, stood before a looking glass and brushed the hair on his temples +upwards, in the way affected by the Emperor Alexander, and, having +assured himself from the way Rostov looked at it that his coat had +been noticed, left the room with a pleasant smile. + +"Oh dear, what a beast I am!" muttered Rostov, as he read the +letter. + +"Why?" + +"Oh, what a pig I am, not to have written and to have given them +such a fright! Oh, what a pig I am!" he repeated, flushing suddenly. +"Well, have you sent Gabriel for some wine? All right let's have +some!" + +In the letter from his parents was enclosed a letter of +recommendation to Bagration which the old countess at Anna +Mikhaylovna's advice had obtained through an acquaintance and sent +to her son, asking him to take it to its destination and make use of +it. + +"What nonsense! Much I need it!" said Rostov, throwing the letter +under the table. + +"Why have you thrown that away?" asked Boris. + +"It is some letter of recommendation... what the devil do I want +it for!" + +"Why 'What the devil'?" said Boris, picking it up and reading the +address. "This letter would be of great use to you." + +"I want nothing, and I won't be anyone's adjutant." + +"Why not?" inquired Boris. + +"It's a lackey's job!" + +"You are still the same dreamer, I see," remarked Boris, shaking his +head. + +"And you're still the same diplomatist! But that's not the +point... Come, how are you?" asked Rostov. + +"Well, as you see. So far everything's all right, but I confess I +should much like to be an adjutant and not remain at the front." + +"Why?" + +"Because when once a man starts on military service, he should try +to make as successful a career of it as possible." + +"Oh, that's it!" said Rostov, evidently thinking of something else. + +He looked intently and inquiringly into his friend's eyes, evidently +trying in vain to find the answer to some question. + +Old Gabriel brought in the wine. + +"Shouldn't we now send for Berg?" asked Boris. "He would drink +with you. I can't." + +"Well, send for him... and how do you get on with that German?" +asked Rostov, with a contemptuous smile. + +"He is a very, very nice, honest, and pleasant fellow," answered +Boris. + +Again Rostov looked intently into Boris' eyes and sighed. Berg +returned, and over the bottle of wine conversation between the three +officers became animated. The Guardsmen told Rostov of their march and +how they had been made much of in Russia, Poland, and abroad. They +spoke of the sayings and doings of their commander, the Grand Duke, +and told stories of his kindness and irascibility. Berg, as usual, +kept silent when the subject did not relate to himself, but in +connection with the stories of the Grand Duke's quick temper he +related with gusto how in Galicia he had managed to deal with the +Grand Duke when the latter made a tour of the regiments and was +annoyed at the irregularity of a movement. With a pleasant smile +Berg related how the Grand Duke had ridden up to him in a violent +passion, shouting: "Arnauts!" ("Arnauts" was the Tsarevich's +favorite expression when he was in a rage) and called for the +company commander. + +"Would you believe it, Count, I was not at all alarmed, because I +knew I was right. Without boasting, you know, I may say that I know +the Army Orders by heart and know the Regulations as well as I do +the Lord's Prayer. So, Count, there never is any negligence in my +company, and so my conscience was at ease. I came forward...." (Berg +stood up and showed how he presented himself, with his hand to his +cap, and really it would have been difficult for a face to express +greater respect and self-complacency than his did.) "Well, he +stormed at me, as the saying is, stormed and stormed and stormed! It +was not a matter of life but rather of death, as the saying is. +'Albanians!' and 'devils!' and 'To Siberia!'" said Berg with a +sagacious smile. "I knew I was in the right so I kept silent; was +not that best, Count?... 'Hey, are you dumb?' he shouted. Still I +remained silent. And what do you think, Count? The next day it was not +even mentioned in the Orders of the Day. That's what keeping one's +head means. That's the way, Count," said Berg, lighting his pipe and +emitting rings of smoke. + +"Yes, that was fine," said Rostov, smiling. + +But Boris noticed that he was preparing to make fun of Berg, and +skillfully changed the subject. He asked him to tell them how and +where he got his wound. This pleased Rostov and he began talking about +it, and as he went on became more and more animated. He told them of +his Schon Grabern affair, just as those who have taken part in a +battle generally do describe it, that is, as they would like it to +have been, as they have heard it described by others, and as sounds +well, but not at all as it really was. Rostov was a truthful young man +and would on no account have told a deliberate lie. He began his story +meaning to tell everything just as it happened, but imperceptibly, +involuntarily, and inevitably he lapsed into falsehood. If he had told +the truth to his hearers- who like himself had often heard stories +of attacks and had formed a definite idea of what an attack was and +were expecting to hear just such a story- they would either not have +believed him or, still worse, would have thought that Rostov was +himself to blame since what generally happens to the narrators of +cavalry attacks had not happened to him. He could not tell them simply +that everyone went at a trot and that he fell off his horse and +sprained his arm and then ran as hard as he could from a Frenchman +into the wood. Besides, to tell everything as it really happened, it +would have been necessary to make an effort of will to tell only +what happened. It is very difficult to tell the truth, and young +people are rarely capable of it. His hearers expected a story of how +beside himself and all aflame with excitement, he had flown like a +storm at the square, cut his way in, slashed right and left, how his +saber had tasted flesh and he had fallen exhausted, and so on. And +so he told them all that. + +In the middle of his story, just as he was saying: "You cannot +imagine what a strange frenzy one experiences during an attack," +Prince Andrew, whom Boris was expecting, entered the room. Prince +Andrew, who liked to help young men, was flattered by being asked +for his assistance and being well disposed toward Boris, who had +managed to please him the day before, he wished to do what the young +man wanted. Having been sent with papers from Kutuzov to the +Tsarevich, he looked in on Boris, hoping to find him alone. When he +came in and saw an hussar of the line recounting his military exploits +(Prince Andrew could not endure that sort of man), he gave Boris a +pleasant smile, frowned as with half-closed eyes he looked at +Rostov, bowed slightly and wearily, and sat down languidly on the +sofa: he felt it unpleasant to have dropped in on bad company. +Rostov flushed up on noticing this, but he did not care, this was a +mere stranger. Glancing, however, at Boris, he saw that he too +seemed ashamed of the hussar of the line. + +In spite of Prince Andrew's disagreeable, ironical tone, in spite of +the contempt with which Rostov, from his fighting army point of +view, regarded all these little adjutants on the staff of whom the +newcomer was evidently one, Rostov felt confused, blushed, and +became silent. Boris inquired what news there might be on the staff, +and what, without indiscretion, one might ask about our plans. + +"We shall probably advance," replied Bolkonski, evidently +reluctant to say more in the presence of a stranger. + +Berg took the opportunity to ask, with great politeness, whether, as +was rumored, the allowance of forage money to captains of companies +would be doubled. To this Prince Andrew answered with a smile that +he could give no opinion on such an important government order, and +Berg laughed gaily. + +"As to your business," Prince Andrew continued, addressing Boris, +"we will talk of it later" (and he looked round at Rostov). "Come to +me after the review and we will do what is possible." + +And, having glanced round the room, Prince Andrew turned to +Rostov, whose state of unconquerable childish embarrassment now +changing to anger he did not condescend to notice, and said: "I +think you were talking of the Schon Grabern affair? Were you there?" + +"I was there," said Rostov angrily, as if intending to insult the +aide-de-camp. + +Bolkonski noticed the hussar's state of mind, and it amused him. +With a slightly contemptuous smile, he said: "Yes, there are many +stories now told about that affair!" + +"Yes, stories!" repeated Rostov loudly, looking with eyes suddenly +grown furious, now at Boris, now at Bolkonski. "Yes, many stories! But +our stories are the stories of men who have been under the enemy's +fire! Our stories have some weight, not like the stories of those +fellows on the staff who get rewards without doing anything!" + +"Of whom you imagine me to be one?" said Prince Andrew, with a quiet +and particularly amiable smile. + +A strange feeling of exasperation and yet of respect for this +man's self-possession mingled at that moment in Rostov's soul. + +"I am not talking about you," he said, "I don't know you and, +frankly, I don't want to. I am speaking of the staff in general." + +"And I will tell you this," Prince Andrew interrupted in a tone of +quiet authority, "you wish to insult me, and I am ready to agree +with you that it would be very easy to do so if you haven't sufficient +self-respect, but admit that the time and place are very badly chosen. +In a day or two we shall all have to take part in a greater and more +serious duel, and besides, Drubetskoy, who says he is an old friend of +yours, is not at all to blame that my face has the misfortune to +displease you. However," he added rising, "you know my name and +where to find me, but don't forget that I do not regard either +myself or you as having been at all insulted, and as a man older +than you, my advice is to let the matter drop. Well then, on Friday +after the review I shall expect you, Drubetskoy. Au revoir!" exclaimed +Prince Andrew, and with a bow to them both he went out. + +Only when Prince Andrew was gone did Rostov think of what he ought +to have said. And he was still more angry at having omitted to say it. +He ordered his horse at once and, coldly taking leave of Boris, rode +home. Should he go to headquarters next day and challenge that +affected adjutant, or really let the matter drop, was the question +that worried him all the way. He thought angrily of the pleasure he +would have at seeing the fright of that small and frail but proud +man when covered by his pistol, and then he felt with surprise that of +all the men he knew there was none he would so much like to have for a +friend as that very adjutant whom he so hated. + +CHAPTER VIII + +The day after Rostov had been to see Boris, a review was held of the +Austrian and Russian troops, both those freshly arrived from Russia +and those who had been campaigning under Kutuzov. The two Emperors, +the Russian with his heir the Tsarevich, and the Austrian with the +Archduke, inspected the allied army of eighty thousand men. + +From early morning the smart clean troops were on the move, +forming up on the field before the fortress. Now thousands of feet and +bayonets moved and halted at the officers' command, turned with +banners flying, formed up at intervals, and wheeled round other +similar masses of infantry in different uniforms; now was heard the +rhythmic beat of hoofs and the jingling of showy cavalry in blue, red, +and green braided uniforms, with smartly dressed bandsmen in front +mounted on black, roan, or gray horses; then again, spreading out with +the brazen clatter of the polished shining cannon that quivered on the +gun carriages and with the smell of linstocks, came the artillery +which crawled between the infantry and cavalry and took up its +appointed position. Not only the generals in full parade uniforms, +with their thin or thick waists drawn in to the utmost, their red +necks squeezed into their stiff collars, and wearing scarves and all +their decorations, not only the elegant, pomaded officers, but every +soldier with his freshly washed and shaven face and his weapons +clean and polished to the utmost, and every horse groomed till its +coat shone like satin and every hair of its wetted mane lay smooth- +felt that no small matter was happening, but an important and solemn +affair. Every general and every soldier was conscious of his own +insignificance, aware of being but a drop in that ocean of men, and +yet at the same time was conscious of his strength as a part of that +enormous whole. + +From early morning strenuous activities and efforts had begun and by +ten o'clock all had been brought into due order. The ranks were +drown up on the vast field. The whole army was extended in three +lines: the cavalry in front, behind it the artillery, and behind +that again the infantry. + +A space like a street was left between each two lines of troops. The +three parts of that army were sharply distinguished: Kutuzov's +fighting army (with the Pavlograds on the right flank of the front); +those recently arrived from Russia, both Guards and regiments of the +line; and the Austrian troops. But they all stood in the same lines, +under one command, and in a like order. + +Like wind over leaves ran an excited whisper: "They're coming! +They're coming!" Alarmed voices were heard, and a stir of final +preparation swept over all the troops. + +From the direction of Olmutz in front of them, a group was seen +approaching. And at that moment, though the day was still, a light +gust of wind blowing over the army slightly stirred the streamers on +the lances and the unfolded standards fluttered against their +staffs. It looked as if by that slight motion the army itself was +expressing its joy at the approach of the Emperors. One voice was +heard shouting: "Eyes front!" Then, like the crowing of cocks at + +sunrise, this was repeated by others from various sides and all became +silent. + +In the deathlike stillness only the tramp of horses was heard. +This was the Emperors' suites. The Emperors rode up to the flank, +and the trumpets of the first cavalry regiment played the general +march. It seemed as though not the trumpeters were playing, but as +if the army itself, rejoicing at the Emperors' approach, had naturally +burst into music. Amid these sounds, only the youthful kindly voice of +the Emperor Alexander was clearly heard. He gave the words of +greeting, and the first regiment roared "Hurrah!" so deafeningly, +continuously, and joyfully that the men themselves were awed by +their multitude and the immensity of the power they constituted. + +Rostov, standing in the front lines of Kutuzov's army which the Tsar +approached first, experienced the same feeling as every other man in +that army: a feeling of self-forgetfulness, a proud consciousness of +might, and a passionate attraction to him who was the cause of this +triumph. + +He felt that at a single word from that man all this vast mass +(and he himself an insignificant atom in it) would go through fire and +water, commit crime, die, or perform deeds of highest heroism, and +so he could not but tremble and his heart stand still at the imminence +of that word. + +"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" thundered from all sides, one regiment +after another greeting the Tsar with the strains of the march, and +then "Hurrah!"... Then the general march, and again "Hurrah! +Hurrah!" growing ever stronger and fuller and merging into a deafening +roar. + +Till the Tsar reached it, each regiment in its silence and +immobility seemed like a lifeless body, but as soon as he came up it +became alive, its thunder joining the roar of the whole line along +which he had already passed. Through the terrible and deafening roar +of those voices, amid the square masses of troops standing +motionless as if turned to stone, hundreds of riders composing the +suites moved carelessly but symmetrically and above all freely, and in +front of them two men- the Emperors. Upon them the undivided, +tensely passionate attention of that whole mass of men was +concentrated. + +The handsome young Emperor Alexander, in the uniform of the Horse +Guards, wearing a cocked hat with its peaks front and back, with his +pleasant face and resonant though not loud voice, attracted everyone's +attention. + +Rostov was not far from the trumpeters, and with his keen sight +had recognized the Tsar and watched his approach. When he was within +twenty paces, and Nicholas could clearly distinguish every detail of +his handsome, happy young face, he experienced a feeling tenderness +and ecstasy such as he had never before known. Every trait and every +movement of the Tsar's seemed to him enchanting. + +Stopping in front of the Pavlograds, the Tsar said something in +French to the Austrian Emperor and smiled. + +Seeing that smile, Rostov involuntarily smiled himself and felt a +still stronger flow of love for his sovereign. He longed to show +that love in some way and knowing that this was impossible was ready +to cry. The Tsar called the colonel of the regiment and said a few +words to him. + +"Oh God, what would happen to me if the Emperor spoke to me?" +thought Rostov. "I should die of happiness!" + +The Tsar addressed the officers also: "I thank you all, gentlemen, I +thank you with my whole heart." To Rostov every word sounded like a +voice from heaven. How gladly would he have died at once for his Tsar! + +"You have earned the St. George's standards and will be worthy of +them." + +"Oh, to die, to die for him " thought Rostov. + +The Tsar said something more which Rostov did not hear, and the +soldiers, straining their lungs, shouted "Hurrah!" + +Rostov too, bending over his saddle, shouted "Hurrah!" with all +his might, feeling that he would like to injure himself by that shout, +if only to express his rapture fully. + +The Tsar stopped a few minutes in front of the hussars as if +undecided. + +"How can the Emperor be undecided?" thought Rostov, but then even +this indecision appeared to him majestic and enchanting, like +everything else the Tsar did. + +That hesitation lasted only an instant. The Tsar's foot, in the +narrow pointed boot then fashionable, touched the groin of the +bobtailed bay mare he rode, his hand in a white glove gathered up +the reins, and he moved off accompanied by an irregularly swaying +sea of aides-de-camp. Farther and farther he rode away, stopping at +other regiments, till at last only his white plumes were visible to +Rostov from amid the suites that surrounded the Emperors. + +Among the gentlemen of the suite, Rostov noticed Bolkonski, +sitting his horse indolently and carelessly. Rostov recalled their +quarrel of yesterday and the question presented itself whether he +ought or ought not to challenge Bolkonski. "Of course not!" he now +thought. "Is it worth thinking or speaking of it at such a moment? +At a time of such love, such rapture, and such self-sacrifice, what do +any of our quarrels and affronts matter? I love and forgive +everybody now." + +When the Emperor had passed nearly all the regiments, the troops +began a ceremonial march past him, and Rostov on Bedouin, recently +purchased from Denisov, rode past too, at the rear of his squadron- +that is, alone and in full view of the Emperor. + +Before he reached him, Rostov, who was a splendid horseman, +spurred Bedouin twice and successfully put him to the showy trot in +which the animal went when excited. Bending his foaming muzzle to +his chest, his tail extended, Bedouin, as if also conscious of the +Emperor's eye upon him, passed splendidly, lifting his feet with a +high and graceful action, as if flying through the air without +touching the ground. + +Rostov himself, his legs well back and his stomach drawn in and +feeling himself one with his horse, rode past the Emperor with a +frowning but blissful face "like a vewy devil," as Denisov expressed +it. + +"Fine fellows, the Pavlograds!" remarked the Emperor. + +"My God, how happy I should be if he ordered me to leap into the +fire this instant!" thought Rostov. + +When the review was over, the newly arrived officers, and also +Kutuzov's, collected in groups and began to talk about the awards, +about the Austrians and their uniforms, about their lines, about +Bonaparte, and how badly the latter would fare now, especially if +the Essen corps arrived and Prussia took our side. + +But the talk in every group was chiefly about the Emperor Alexander. +His every word and movement was described with ecstasy. + +They all had but one wish: to advance as soon as possible against +the enemy under the Emperor's command. Commanded by the Emperor +himself they could not fail to vanquish anyone, be it whom it might: +so thought Rostov and most of the officers after the review. + +All were then more confident of victory than the winning of two +battles would have made them. + +CHAPTER IX + +The day after the review, Boris, in his best uniform and with his +comrade Berg's best wishes for success, rode to Olmutz to see +Bolkonski, wishing to profit by his friendliness and obtain for +himself the best post he could- preferably that of adjutant to some +important personage, a position in the army which seemed to him most +attractive. "It is all very well for Rostov, whose father sends him +ten thousand rubles at a time, to talk about not wishing to cringe +to anybody and not be anyone's lackey, but I who have nothing but my +brains have to make a career and must not miss opportunities, but must +avail myself of them!" he reflected. + +He did not find Prince Andrew in Olmutz that day, but the appearance +of the town where the headquarters and the diplomatic corps were +stationed and the two Emperors were living with their suites, +households, and courts only strengthened his desire to belong to +that higher world. + +He knew no one, and despite his smart Guardsman's uniform, all these +exalted personages passing in the streets in their elegant carriages +with their plumes, ribbons, and medals, both courtiers and military +men, seemed so immeasurably above him, an insignificant officer of the +Guards, that they not only did not wish to, but simply could not, be +aware of his existence. At the quarters of the commander in chief, +Kutuzov, where he inquired for Bolkonski, all the adjutants and even +the orderlies looked at him as if they wished to impress on him that a +great many officers like him were always coming there and that +everybody was heartily sick of them. In spite of this, or rather +because of it, next day, November 15, after dinner he again went to +Olmutz and, entering the house occupied by Kutuzov, asked for +Bolkonski. Prince Andrew was in and Boris was shown into a large +hall probably formerly used for dancing, but in which five beds now +stood, and furniture of various kinds: a table, chairs, and a +clavichord. One adjutant, nearest the door, was sitting at the table +in a Persian dressing gown, writing. Another, the red, stout +Nesvitski, lay on a bed with his arms under his head, laughing with an +officer who had sat down beside him. A third was playing a Viennese +waltz on the clavichord, while a fourth, lying on the clavichord, sang +the tune. Bolkonski was not there. None of these gentlemen changed his +position on seeing Boris. The one who was writing and whom Boris +addressed turned round crossly and told him Bolkonski was on duty +and that he should go through the door on the left into the +reception room if he wished to see him. Boris thanked him and went +to the reception room, where he found some ten officers and generals. + +When he entered, Prince Andrew, his eyes drooping contemptuously +(with that peculiar expression of polite weariness which plainly says, +"If it were not my duty I would not talk to you for a moment"), was +listening to an old Russian general with decorations, who stood very +erect, almost on tiptoe, with a soldier's obsequious expression on his +purple face, reporting something. + +"Very well, then, be so good as to wait," said Prince Andrew to + +the general, in Russian, speaking with the French intonation he +affected when he wished to speak contemptuously, and noticing Boris, +Prince Andrew, paying no more heed to the general who ran after him +imploring him to hear something more, nodded and turned to him with +a cheerful smile. + +At that moment Boris clearly realized what he had before surmised, +that in the army, besides the subordination and discipline +prescribed in the military code, which he and the others knew in the +regiment, there was another, more important, subordination, which made +this tight-laced, purple-faced general wait respectfully while Captain +Prince Andrew, for his own pleasure, chose to chat with Lieutenant +Drubetskoy. More than ever was Boris resolved to serve in future not +according to the written code, but under this unwritten law. He felt +now that merely by having been recommended to Prince Andrew he had +already risen above the general who at the front had the power to +annihilate him, a lieutenant of the Guards. Prince Andrew came up to +him and took his hand. + +"I am very sorry you did not find me in yesterday. I was fussing +about with Germans all day. We went with Weyrother to survey the +dispositions. When Germans start being accurate, there's no end to +it!" + +Boris smiled, as if he understood what Prince Andrew was alluding to +as something generally known. But it the first time he had heard +Weyrother's name, or even the term "dispositions." + +"Well, my dear fellow, so you still want to be an adjutant? I have +been thinking about you." + +"Yes, I was thinking"- for some reason Boris could not help +blushing- "of asking the commander in chief. He has had a letter +from Prince Kuragin about me. I only wanted to ask because I fear +the Guards won't be in action," he added as if in apology. + +"All right, all right. We'll talk it over," replied Prince Andrew. +"Only let me report this gentleman's business, and I shall be at +your disposal." + +While Prince Andrew went to report about the purple-faced general, +that gentleman- evidently not sharing Boris' conception of the +advantages of the unwritten code of subordination- looked so fixedly +at the presumptuous lieutenant who had prevented his finishing what he +had to say to the adjutant that Boris felt uncomfortable. He turned +away and waited impatiently for Prince Andrew's return from the +commander in chief's room. + +"You see, my dear fellow, I have been thinking about you," said +Prince Andrew when they had gone into the large room where the +clavichord was. "It's no use your going to the commander in chief. +He would say a lot of pleasant things, ask you to dinner" ("That would +not be bad as regards the unwritten code," thought Boris), "but +nothing more would come of it. There will soon be a battalion of us +aides-de-camp and adjutants! But this is what we'll do: I have a +good friend, an adjutant general and an excellent fellow, Prince +Dolgorukov; and though you may not know it, the fact is that now +Kutuzov with his staff and all of us count for nothing. Everything +is now centered round the Emperor. So we will go to Dolgorukov; I have +to go there anyhow and I have already spoken to him about you. We +shall see whether he cannot attach you to himself or find a place +for you somewhere nearer the sun." + +Prince Andrew always became specially keen when he had to guide a +young man and help him to worldly success. Under cover of obtaining +help of this kind for another, which from pride he would never +accept for himself, he kept in touch with the circle which confers +success and which attracted him. He very readily took up Boris' +cause and went with him to Dolgorukov. + +It was late in the evening when they entered the palace at Olmutz +occupied by the Emperors and their retinues. + +That same day a council of war had been held in which all the +members of the Hofkriegsrath and both Emperors took part. At that +council, contrary to the views of the old generals Kutuzov and +Prince Schwartzenberg, it had been decided to advance immediately +and give battle to Bonaparte. The council of war was just over when +Prince Andrew accompanied by Boris arrived at the palace to find +Dolgorukov. Everyone at headquarters was still under the spell of +the day's council, at which the party of the young had triumphed. +The voices of those who counseled delay and advised waiting for +something else before advancing had been so completely silenced and +their arguments confuted by such conclusive evidence of the advantages +of attacking that what had been discussed at the council- the coming +battle and the victory that would certainly result from it- no +longer seemed to be in the future but in the past. All the +advantages were on our side. Our enormous forces, undoubtedly superior +to Napoleon's, were concentrated in one place, the troops inspired +by the Emperors' presence were eager for action. The strategic +position where the operations would take place was familiar in all its +details to the Austrian General Weyrother: a lucky accident had +ordained that the Austrian army should maneuver the previous year on +the very fields where the French had now to be fought; the adjacent +locality was known and shown in every detail on the maps, and +Bonaparte, evidently weakened, was undertaking nothing. + +Dolgorukov, one of the warmest advocates of an attack, had just +returned from the council, tired and exhausted but eager and proud +of the victory that had been gained. Prince Andrew introduced his +protege, but Prince Dolgorukov politely and firmly pressing his hand +said nothing to Boris and, evidently unable to suppress the thoughts +which were uppermost in his mind at that moment, addressed Prince +Andrew in French. + +"Ah, my dear fellow, what a battle we have gained! God grant that +the one that will result from it will be as victorious! However, +dear fellow," he said abruptly and eagerly, "I must confess to +having been unjust to the Austrians and especially to Weyrother. +What exactitude, what minuteness, what knowledge of the locality, what +foresight for every eventuality, every possibility even to the +smallest detail! No, my dear fellow, no conditions better than our +present ones could have been devised. This combination of Austrian +precision with Russian valor- what more could be wished for?" + +"So the attack is definitely resolved on?" asked Bolkonski. + +"And do you know, my dear fellow, it seems to me that Bonaparte +has decidedly lost bearings, you know that a letter was received +from him today for the Emperor." Dolgorukov smiled significantly. + +"Is that so? And what did he say?" inquired Bolkonski. + +"What can he say? Tra-di-ri-di-ra and so on... merely to gain +time. I tell you he is in our hands, that's certain! But what was most +amusing," he continued, with a sudden, good-natured laugh, "was that +we could not think how to address the reply! If not as 'Consul' and of +course not as 'Emperor,' it seemed to me it should be to 'General +Bonaparte.'" + +"But between not recognizing him as Emperor and calling him +General Bonaparte, there is a difference," remarked Bolkonski. + +"That's just it," interrupted Dolgorukov quickly, laughing. "You +know Bilibin- he's a very clever fellow. He suggested addressing him +as 'Usurper and Enemy of Mankind.'" + +Dolgorukov laughed merrily. + +"Only that?" said Bolkonski. + +"All the same, it was Bilibin who found a suitable form for the +address. He is a wise and clever fellow." + +"What was it?" + +"To the Head of the French Government... Au chef du gouvernement +francais," said Dolgorukov, with grave satisfaction. "Good, wasn't +it?" + +"Yes, but he will dislike it extremely," said Bolkonski. + +"Oh yes, very much! My brother knows him, he's dined with him- the +present Emperor- more than once in Paris, and tells me he never met +a more cunning or subtle diplomatist- you know, a combination of +French adroitness and Italian play-acting! Do you know the tale +about him and Count Markov? Count Markov was the only man who knew how +to handle him. You know the story of the handkerchief? It is +delightful!" + +And the talkative Dolgorukov, turning now to Boris, now to Prince +Andrew, told how Bonaparte wishing to test Markov, our ambassador, +purposely dropped a handkerchief in front of him and stood looking +at Markov, probably expecting Markov to pick it up for him, and how +Markov immediately dropped his own beside it and picked it up +without touching Bonaparte's. + +"Delightful!" said Bolkonski. "But I have come to you, Prince, as +a petitioner on behalf of this young man. You see..." but before +Prince Andrew could finish, an aide-de-camp came in to summon +Dolgorukov to the Emperor. + +"Oh, what a nuisance," said Dolgorukov, getting up hurriedly and +pressing the hands of Prince Andrew and Boris. "You know I should be +very glad to do all in my power both for you and for this dear young +man." Again he pressed the hand of the latter with an expression of +good-natured, sincere, and animated levity. "But you see... another +time!" + +Boris was excited by the thought of being so close to the higher +powers as he felt himself to be at that moment. He was conscious +that here he was in contact with the springs that set in motion the +enormous movements of the mass of which in his regiment he felt +himself a tiny, obedient, and insignificant atom. They followed Prince +Dolgorukov out into the corridor and met- coming out of the door of +the Emperor's room by which Dolgorukov had entered- a short man in +civilian clothes with a clever face and sharply projecting jaw +which, without spoiling his face, gave him a peculiar vivacity and +shiftiness of expression. This short man nodded to Dolgorukov as to an +intimate friend and stared at Prince Andrew with cool intensity, +walking straight toward him and evidently expecting him to bow or to +step out of his way. Prince Andrew did neither: a look of animosity +appeared on his face and the other turned away and went down the +side of the corridor. + +"Who was that?" asked Boris. + +"He is one of the most remarkable, but to me most unpleasant of men- +the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Prince Adam Czartoryski.... It is +such men as he who decide the fate of nations," added Bolkonski with a +sigh he could not suppress, as they passed out of the palace. + +Next day, the army began its campaign, and up to the very battle +of Austerlitz, Boris was unable to see either Prince Andrew or +Dolgorukov again and remained for a while with the Ismaylov regiment. + +CHAPTER X + +At dawn on the sixteenth of November, Denisov's squadron, in which +Nicholas Rostov served and which was in Prince Bagration's detachment, +moved from the place where it had spent the night, advancing into +action as arranged, and after going behind other columns for about two +thirds of a mile was stopped on the highroad. Rostov saw the +Cossacks and then the first and second squadrons of hussars and +infantry battalions and artillery pass by and go forward and then +Generals Bagration and Dolgorukov ride past with their adjutants. +All the fear before action which he had experienced as previously, all +the inner struggle to conquer that fear, all his dreams of +distinguishing himself as a true hussar in this battle, had been +wasted. Their squadron remained in reserve and Nicholas Rostov spent +that day in a dull and wretched mood. At nine in the morning, he heard +firing in front and shouts of hurrah, and saw wounded being brought +back (there were not many of them), and at last he saw how a whole +detachment of French cavalry was brought in, convoyed by a sontnya +of Cossacks. Evidently the affair was over and, though not big, had +been a successful engagement. The men and officers returning spoke +of a brilliant victory, of the occupation of the town of Wischau and +the capture of a whole French squadron. The day was bright and sunny +after a sharp night frost, and the cheerful glitter of that autumn day +was in keeping with the news of victory which was conveyed, not only +by the tales of those who had taken part in it, but also by the joyful +expression on the faces of soldiers, officers, generals, and +adjutants, as they passed Rostov going or coming. And Nicholas, who +had vainly suffered all the dread that precedes a battle and had spent +that happy day in inactivity, was all the more depressed. + +"Come here, Wostov. Let's dwink to dwown our gwief!" shouted +Denisov, who had settled down by the roadside with a flask and some +food. + +The officers gathered round Denisov's canteen, eating and talking. + +"There! They are bringing another!" cried one of the officers, +indicating a captive French dragoon who was being brought in on foot +by two Cossacks. + +One of them was leading by the bridle a fine large French horse he +had taken from the prisoner. + +"Sell us that horse!" Denisov called out to the Cossacks. + +"If you like, your honor!" + +The officers got up and stood round the Cossacks and their prisoner. +The French dragoon was a young Alsatian who spoke French with a German +accent. He was breathless with agitation, his face was red, and when +he heard some French spoken he at once began speaking to the officers, +addressing first one, then another. He said he would not have been +taken, it was not his fault but the corporal's who had sent him to +seize some horsecloths, though he had told him the Russians were +there. And at every word he added: "But don't hurt my little horse!" +and stroked the animal. It was plain that he did not quite grasp where +he was. Now he excused himself for having been taken prisoner and now, +imagining himself before his own officers, insisted on his soldierly +discipline and zeal in the service. He brought with him into our +rearguard all the freshness of atmosphere of the French army, which +was so alien to us. + +The Cossacks sold the horse for two gold pieces, and Rostov, being +the richest of the officers now that he had received his money, bought +it. + +"But don't hurt my little horse!" said the Alsatian good-naturedly +to Rostov when the animal was handed over to the hussar. + +Rostov smilingly reassured the dragoon and gave him money. + +"Alley! Alley!" said the Cossack, touching the prisoner's arm to +make him go on. + +"The Emperor! The Emperor!" was suddenly heard among the hussars. + +All began to run and bustle, and Rostov saw coming up the road +behind him several riders with white plumes in their hats. In a moment +everyone was in his place, waiting. + +Rostov did not know or remember how he ran to his place and mounted. +Instantly his regret at not having been in action and his dejected +mood amid people of whom he was weary had gone, instantly every +thought of himself had vanished. He was filled with happiness at his +nearness to the Emperor. He felt that this nearness by itself made +up to him for the day he had lost. He was happy as a lover when the +longed-for moment of meeting arrives. Not daring to look round and +without looking round, he was ecstatically conscious of his +approach. He felt it not only from the sound of the hoofs of the +approaching cavalcade, but because as he drew near everything grew +brighter, more joyful, more significant, and more festive around +him. Nearer and nearer to Rostov came that sun shedding beams of +mild and majestic light around, and already he felt himself +enveloped in those beams, he heard his voice, that kindly, calm, and +majestic voice that was yet so simple! And as if in accord with +Rostov's feeling, there was a deathly stillness amid which was heard +the Emperor's voice. + +"The Pavlograd hussars?" he inquired. + +"The reserves, sire!" replied a voice, a very human one compared +to that which had said: "The Pavlograd hussars?" + +The Emperor drew level with Rostov and halted. Alexander's face +was even more beautiful than it had been three days before at the +review. It shone with such gaiety and youth, such innocent youth, that +it suggested the liveliness of a fourteen-year-old boy, and yet it was +the face of the majestic Emperor. Casually, while surveying the +squadron, the Emperor's eyes met Rostov's and rested on them for not +more than two seconds. Whether or no the Emperor understood what was +going on in Rostov's soul (it seemed to Rostov that he understood +everything), at any rate his light-blue eyes gazed for about two +seconds into Rostov's face. A gentle, mild light poured from them. +Then all at once he raised his eyebrows, abruptly touched his horse +with his left foot, and galloped on. + +The younger Emperor could not restrain his wish to be present at the +battle and, in spite of the remonstrances of his courtiers, at +twelve o'clock left the third column with which he had been and +galloped toward the vanguard. Before he came up with the hussars, +several adjutants met him with news of the successful result of the +action. + +This battle, which consisted in the capture of a French squadron, +was represented as a brilliant victory over the French, and so the +Emperor and the whole army, especially while the smoke hung over the +battlefield, believed that the French had been defeated and were +retreating against their will. A few minutes after the Emperor had +passed, the Pavlograd division was ordered to advance. In Wischau +itself, a petty German town, Rostov saw the Emperor again. In the +market place, where there had been some rather heavy firing before the +Emperor's arrival, lay several killed and wounded soldiers whom +there had not been time to move. The Emperor, surrounded by his +suite of officers and courtiers, was riding a bobtailed chestnut mare, +a different one from that which he had ridden at the review, and +bending to one side he gracefully held a gold lorgnette to his eyes +and looked at a soldier who lay prone, with blood on his uncovered +head. The wounded soldier was so dirty, coarse, and revolting that his +proximity to the Emperor shocked Rostov. Rostov saw how the +Emperor's rather round shoulders shuddered as if a cold shiver had run +down them, how his left foot began convulsively tapping the horse's +side with the spur, and how the well-trained horse looked round +unconcerned and did not stir. An adjutant, dismounting, lifted the +soldier under the arms to place him on a stretcher that had been +brought. The soldier groaned. + +"Gently, gently! Can't you do it more gently?" said the Emperor +apparently suffering more than the dying soldier, and he rode away. + +Rostov saw tears filling the Emperor's eyes and heard him, as he was +riding away, say to Czartoryski: "What a terrible thing war is: what a +terrible thing! Quelle terrible chose que la guerre!" + +The troops of the vanguard were stationed before Wischau, within +sight of the enemy's lines, which all day long had yielded ground to +us at the least firing. The Emperor's gratitude was announced to the +vanguard, rewards were promised, and the men received a double +ration of vodka. The campfires crackled and the soldiers' songs +resounded even more merrily than on the previous night. Denisov +celebrated his promotion to the rank of major, and Rostov, who had +already drunk enough, at the end of the feast proposed the Emperor's +health. "Not 'our Sovereign, the Emperor,' as they say at official +dinners," said he, "but the health of our Sovereign, that good, +enchanting, and great man! Let us drink to his health and to the +certain defeat of the French!" + +"If we fought before," he said, "not letting the French pass, as +at Schon Grabern, what shall we not do now when he is at the front? We +will all die for him gladly! Is it not so, gentlemen? Perhaps I am not +saying it right, I have drunk a good deal- but that is how I feel, and +so do you too! To the health of Alexander the First! Hurrah!" + +"Hurrah!" rang the enthusiastic voices of the officers. + +And the old cavalry captain, Kirsten, shouted enthusiastically and +no less sincerely than the twenty-year-old Rostov. + +When the officers had emptied and smashed their glasses, Kirsten +filled others and, in shirt sleeves and breeches, went glass in hand +to the soldiers' bonfires and with his long gray mustache, his white +chest showing under his open shirt, he stood in a majestic pose in the +light of the campfire, waving his uplifted arm. + +"Lads! here's to our Sovereign, the Emperor, and victory over our +enemies! Hurrah!" he exclaimed in his dashing, old, hussar's baritone. + +The hussars crowded round and responded heartily with loud shouts. + +Late that night, when all had separated, Denisov with his short hand +patted his favorite, Rostov, on the shoulder. + +"As there's no one to fall in love with on campaign, he's fallen +in love with the Tsar," he said. + +"Denisov, don't make fun of it!" cried Rostov. "It is such a +lofty, beautiful feeling, such a..." + +"I believe it, I believe it, fwiend, and I share and appwove..." + +"No, you don't understand!" + +And Rostov got up and went wandering among the campfires, dreaming +of what happiness it would be to die- not in saving the Emperor's life +(he did not even dare to dream of that), but simply to die before +his eyes. He really was in love with the Tsar and the glory of the +Russian arms and the hope of future triumph. And he was not the only +man to experience that feeling during those memorable days preceding +the battle of Austerlitz: nine tenths of the men in the Russian army +were then in love, though less ecstatically, with their Tsar and the +glory of the Russian arms. + +CHAPTER XI + +The next day the Emperor stopped at Wischau, and Villier, his +physician, was repeatedly summoned to see him. At headquarters and +among the troops near by the news spread that the Emperor was +unwell. He ate nothing and had slept badly that night, those around +him reported. The cause of this indisposition was the strong +impression made on his sensitive mind by the sight of the killed and +wounded. + +At daybreak on the seventeenth, a French officer who had come with a +flag of truce, demanding an audience with the Russian Emperor, was +brought into Wischau from our outposts. This officer was Savary. The +Emperor had only just fallen asleep and so Savary had to wait. At +midday he was admitted to the Emperor, and an hour later he rode off +with Prince Dolgorukov to the advanced post of the French army. + +It was rumored that Savary had been sent to propose to Alexander a +meeting with Napoleon. To the joy and pride of the whole army, a +personal interview was refused, and instead of the Sovereign, Prince +Dolgorukov, the victor at Wischau, was sent with Savary to negotiate +with Napoleon if, contrary to expectations, these negotiations were +actuated by a real desire for peace. + +Toward evening Dolgorukov came back, went straight to the Tsar, +and remained alone with him for a long time. + +On the eighteenth and nineteenth of November, the army advanced +two days' march and the enemy's outposts after a brief interchange +of shots retreated. In the highest army circles from midday on the +nineteenth, a great, excitedly bustling activity began which lasted +till the morning of the twentieth, when the memorable battle of +Austerlitz was fought. + +Till midday on the nineteenth, the activity- the eager talk, running +to and fro, and dispatching of adjutants- was confined to the +Emperor's headquarters. But on the afternoon of that day, this +activity reached Kutiizov's headquarters and the staffs of the +commanders of columns. By evening, the adjutants had spread it to +all ends and parts of the army, and in the night from the nineteenth +to the twentieth, the whole eighty thousand allied troops rose from +their bivouacs to the hum of voices, and the army swayed and started +in one enormous mass six miles long. + +The concentrated activity which had begun at the Emperor's +headquarters in the morning and had started the whole movement that +followed was like the first movement of the main wheel of a large +tower clock. One wheel slowly moved, another was set in motion, and +a third, and wheels began to revolve faster and faster, levers and +cogwheels to work, chimes to play, figures to pop out, and the hands +to advance with regular motion as a result of all that activity. + +Just as in the mechanism of a clock, so in the mechanism of the +military machine, an impulse once given leads to the final result; and +just as indifferently quiescent till the moment when motion is +transmitted to them are the parts of the mechanism which the impulse +has not yet reached. Wheels creak on their axles as the cogs engage +one another and the revolving pulleys whirr with the rapidity of their +movement, but a neighboring wheel is as quiet and motionless as though +it were prepared to remain so for a hundred years; but the moment +comes when the lever catches it and obeying the impulse that wheel +begins to creak and joins in the common motion the result and aim of +which are beyond its ken. + +Just as in a clock, the result of the complicated motion of +innumerable wheels and pulleys is merely a slow and regular movement +of the hands which show the time, so the result of all the complicated +human activities of 160,000 Russians and French- all their passions, +desires, remorse, humiliations, sufferings, outbursts of pride, +fear, and enthusiasm- was only the loss of the battle of Austerlitz, +the so-called battle of the three Emperors- that is to say, a slow +movement of the hand on the dial of human history. + +Prince Andrew was on duty that day and in constant attendance on the +commander in chief. + +At six in the evening, Kutuzov went to the Emperor's headquarters +and after staying but a short time with the Tsar went to see the grand +marshal of the court, Count Tolstoy. + +Bolkonski took the opportunity to go in to get some details of the +coming action from Dolgorukov. He felt that Kutuzov was upset and +dissatisfied about something and that at headquarters they were +dissatisfied with him, and also that at the Emperor's headquarters +everyone adopted toward him the tone of men who know something +others do not know: he therefore wished to speak to Dolgorukov. + +"Well, how d'you do, my dear fellow?" said Dolgorukov, who was +sitting at tea with Bilibin. "The fete is for tomorrow. How is your +old fellow? Out of sorts?" + +"I won't say he is out of sorts, but I fancy he would like to be +heard." + +"But they heard him at the council of war and will hear him when +he talks sense, but to temporize and wait for something now when +Bonaparte fears nothing so much as a general battle is impossible." + +"Yes, you have seen him?" said Prince Andrew. "Well, what is +Bonaparte like? How did he impress you?" + +"Yes, I saw him, and am convinced that he fears nothing so much as a +general engagement," repeated Dolgorukov, evidently prizing this +general conclusion which he had arrived at from his interview with +Napoleon. "If he weren't afraid of a battle why did he ask for that +interview? Why negotiate, and above all why retreat, when to retreat +is so contrary to his method of conducting war? Believe me, he is +afraid, afraid of a general battle. His hour has come! Mark my words!" + +"But tell me, what is he like, eh?" said Prince Andrew again. + +"He is a man in a gray overcoat, very anxious that I should call him +'Your Majesty,' but who, to his chagrin, got no title from me! +That's the sort of man he is, and nothing more," replied Dolgorukov, +looking round at Bilibin with a smile. + +"Despite my great respect for old Kutuzov," he continued, "we should +be a nice set of fellows if we were to wait about and so give him a +chance to escape, or to trick us, now that we certainly have him in +our hands! No, we mustn't forget Suvorov and his rule- not to put +yourself in a position to be attacked, but yourself to attack. Believe +me in war the energy of young men often shows the way better than +all the experience of old Cunctators." + +"But in what position are we going to attack him? I have been at the +outposts today and it is impossible to say where his chief forces +are situated," said Prince Andrew. + +He wished to explain to Dolgorukov a plan of attack he had himself +formed. + +"Oh, that is all the same," Dolgorukov said quickly, and getting +up he spread a map on the table. "All eventualities have been +foreseen. If he is standing before Brunn..." + +And Prince Dolgorukov rapidly but indistinctly explained Weyrother's +plan of a flanking movement. + +Prince Andrew began to reply and to state his own plan, which +might have been as good as Weyrother's, but for the disadvantage +that Weyrother's had already been approved. As soon as Prince Andrew +began to demonstrate the defects of the latter and the merits of his +own plan, Prince Dolgorukov ceased to listen to him and gazed +absent-mindedly not at the map, but at Prince Andrew's face. + +"There will be a council of war at Kutuzov's tonight, though; you +can say all this there," remarked Dolgorukov. + +"I will do so," said Prince Andrew, moving away from the map. + +"Whatever are you bothering about, gentlemen?" said Bilibin, who, +till then, had listened with an amused smile to their conversation and +now was evidently ready with a joke. "Whether tomorrow brings +victory or defeat, the glory of our Russian arms is secure. Except +your Kutuzov, there is not a single Russian in command of a column! +The commanders are: Herr General Wimpfen, le Comte de Langeron, le +Prince de Lichtenstein, le Prince, de Hohenlohe, and finally +Prishprish, and so on like all those Polish names." + +"Be quiet, backbiter!" said Dolgorukov. "It is not true; there are +now two Russians, Miloradovich, and Dokhturov, and there would be a +third, Count Arakcheev, if his nerves were not too weak." + +"However, I think General Kutuzov has come out," said Prince Andrew. +"I wish you good luck and success, gentlemen!" he added and went out +after shaking hands with Dolgorukov and Bilibin. + +On the way home, Prince Andrew could not refrain from asking +Kutuzov, who was sitting silently beside him, what he thought of +tomorrow's battle. + +Kutuzov looked sternly at his adjutant and, after a pause, +replied: "I think the battle will be lost, and so I told Count Tolstoy +and asked him to tell the Emperor. What do you think he replied? 'But, +my dear general, I am engaged with rice and cutlets, look after +military matters yourself!' Yes... That was the answer I got!" + +CHAPTER XII + +Shortly after nine o'clock that evening, Weyrother drove with his +plans to Kutuzov's quarters where the council of war was to be held. +All the commanders of columns were summoned to the commander in +chief's and with the exception of Prince Bagration, who declined to +come, were all there at the appointed time. + +Weyrother, who was in full control of the proposed battle, by his +eagerness and briskness presented a marked contrast to the +dissatisfied and drowsy Kutuzov, who reluctantly played the part of +chairman and president of the council of war. Weyrother evidently felt +himself to be at the head of a movement that had already become +unrestrainable. He was like a horse running downhill harnessed to a +heavy cart. Whether he was pulling it or being pushed by it he did not +know, but rushed along at headlong speed with no time to consider what +this movement might lead to. Weyrother had been twice that evening +to the enemy's picket line to reconnoiter personally, and twice to the +Emperors, Russian and Austrian, to report and explain, and to his +headquarters where he had dictated the dispositions in German, and +now, much exhausted, he arrived at Kutuzov's. + +He was evidently so busy that he even forgot to be polite to the +commander in chief. He interrupted him, talked rapidly and +indistinctly, without looking at the man he was addressing, and did +not reply to questions put to him. He was bespattered with mud and had +a pitiful, weary, and distracted air, though at the same time he was +haughty and self-confident. + +Kutuzov was occupying a nobleman's castle of modest dimensions +near Ostralitz. In the large drawing room which had become the +commander in chief's office were gathered Kutuzov himself, +Weyrother, and the members of the council of war. They were drinking +tea, and only awaited Prince Bagration to begin the council. At last +Bagration's orderly came with the news that the prince could not +attend. Prince Andrew came in to inform the commander in chief of this +and, availing himself of permission previously given him by Kutuzov to +be present at the council, he remained in the room. + +"Since Prince Bagration is not coming, we may begin," said +Weyrother, hurriedly rising from his seat and going up to the table on +which an enormous map of the environs of Brunn was spread out. + +Kutuzov, with his uniform unbuttoned so that his fat neck bulged +over his collar as if escaping, was sitting almost asleep in a low +chair, with his podgy old hands resting symmetrically on its arms. +At the sound of Weyrother's voice, he opened his one eye with an +effort. + +"Yes, yes, if you please! It is already late," said he, and +nodding his head he let it droop and again closed his eye. + +If at first the members of the council thought that Kutuzov was +pretending to sleep, the sounds his nose emitted during the reading +that followed proved that the commander in chief at that moment was +absorbed by a far more serious matter than a desire to show his +contempt for the dispositions or anything else- he was engaged in +satisfying the irresistible human need for sleep. He really was +asleep. Weyrother, with the gesture of a man too busy to lose a +moment, glanced at Kutuzov and, having convinced himself that he was +asleep, took up a paper and in a loud, monotonous voice began to +read out the dispositions for the impending battle, under a heading +which he also read out: + +"Dispositions for an attack on the enemy position behind Kobelnitz +and Sokolnitz, November 30, 1805." + +The dispositions were very complicated and difficult. They began +as follows: + +"As the enemy's left wing rests on wooded hills and his right +extends along Kobelnitz and Sokolnitz behind the ponds that are there, +while we, on the other hand, with our left wing by far outflank his +right, it is advantageous to attack the enemy's latter wing especially +if we occupy the villages of Sokolnitz and Kobelnitz, whereby we can +both fall on his flank and pursue him over the plain between +Schlappanitz and the Thuerassa forest, avoiding the defiles of +Schlappanitz and Bellowitz which cover the enemy's front. For this +object it is necessary that... The first column marches... The +second column marches... The third column marches..." and so on, +read Weyrother. + +The generals seemed to listen reluctantly to the difficult +dispositions. The tall, fair-haired General Buxhowden stood, leaning +his back against the wall, his eyes fixed on a burning candle, and +seemed not to listen or even to wish to be thought to listen. +Exactly opposite Weyrother, with his glistening wide-open eyes fixed +upon him and his mustache twisted upwards, sat the ruddy +Miloradovich in a military pose, his elbows turned outwards, his hands +on his knees, and his shoulders raised. He remained stubbornly silent, +gazing at Weyrother's face, and only turned away his eyes when the +Austrian chief of staff finished reading. Then Miloradovich looked +round significantly at the other generals. But one could not tell from +that significant look whether he agreed or disagreed and was satisfied +or not with the arrangements. Next to Weyrother sat Count Langeron +who, with a subtle smile that never left his typically southern French +face during the whole time of the reading, gazed at his delicate +fingers which rapidly twirled by its corners a gold snuffbox on +which was a portrait. In the middle of one of the longest sentences, +he stopped the rotary motion of the snuffbox, raised his head, and +with inimical politeness lurking in the corners of his thin lips +interrupted Weyrother, wishing to say something. But the Austrian +general, continuing to read, frowned angrily and jerked his elbows, as +if to say: "You can tell me your views later, but now be so good as to +look at the map and listen." Langeron lifted his eyes with an +expression of perplexity, turned round to Miloradovich as if seeking +an explanation, but meeting the latter's impressive but meaningless +gaze drooped his eyes sadly and again took to twirling his snuffbox. + +"A geography lesson!" he muttered as if to himself, but loud +enough to be heard. + +Przebyszewski, with respectful but dignified politeness, held his +hand to his ear toward Weyrother, with the air of a man absorbed in +attention. Dohkturov, a little man, sat opposite Weyrother, with an +assiduous and modest mien, and stooping over the outspread map +conscientiously studied the dispositions and the unfamiliar +locality. He asked Weyrother several times to repeat words he had +not clearly heard and the difficult names of villages. Weyrother +complied and Dohkturov noted them down. + +When the reading which lasted more than an hour was over, Langeron +again brought his snuffbox to rest and, without looking at Weyrother +or at anyone in particular, began to say how difficult it was to carry +out such a plan in which the enemy's position was assumed to be known, +whereas it was perhaps not known, since the enemy was in movement. +Langeron's objections were valid but it was obvious that their chief +aim was to show General Weyrother- who had read his dispositions +with as much self-confidence as if he were addressing school children- +that he had to do, not with fools, but with men who could teach him +something in military matters. + +When the monotonous sound of Weyrother's voice ceased, Kutuzov +opened his eye as a miller wakes up when the soporific drone of the +mill wheel is interrupted. He listened to what Langeron said, as if +remarking, "So you are still at that silly business!" quickly closed +his eye again, and let his head sink still lower. + +Langeron, trying as virulently as possible to sting Weyrother's +vanity as author of the military plan, argued that Bonaparte might +easily attack instead of being attacked, and so render the whole of +this plan perfectly worthless. Weyrother met all objections with a +firm and contemptuous smile, evidently prepared beforehand to meet all +objections be they what they might. + +"If he could attack us, he would have done so today," said he. + +"So you think he is powerless?" said Langeron. + +"He has forty thousand men at most," replied Weyrother, with the +smile of a doctor to whom an old wife wishes to explain the +treatment of a case. + +"In that case he is inviting his doom by awaiting our attack," +said Langeron, with a subtly ironical smile, again glancing round +for support to Miloradovich who was near him. + +But Miloradovich was at that moment evidently thinking of anything +rather than of what the generals were disputing about. + +"Ma foi!" said he, "tomorrow we shall see all that on the +battlefield." + +Weyrother again gave that smile which seemed to say that to him it +was strange and ridiculous to meet objections from Russian generals +and to have to prove to them what he had not merely convinced +himself of, but had also convinced the sovereign Emperors of. + +"The enemy has quenched his fires and a continual noise is heard +from his camp," said he. "What does that mean? Either he is +retreating, which is the only thing we need fear, or he is changing +his position." (He smiled ironically.) "But even if he also took up +a position in the Thuerassa, he merely saves us a great deal of +trouble and all our arrangements to the minutest detail remain the +same." + +"How is that?..." began Prince Andrew, who had for long been waiting +an opportunity to express his doubts. + +Kutuzov here woke up, coughed heavily, and looked round at the +generals. + +"Gentlemen, the dispositions for tomorrow- or rather for today, +for it is past midnight- cannot now be altered," said he. "You have +heard them, and we shall all do our duty. But before a battle, there +is nothing more important..." he paused, "than to have a good sleep." + +He moved as if to rise. The generals bowed and retired. It was +past midnight. Prince Andrew went out. + +The council of war, at which Prince Andrew had not been able to +express his opinion as he had hoped to, left on him a vague and uneasy +impression. Whether Dolgorukov and Weyrother, or Kutuzov, Langeron, +and the others who did not approve of the plan of attack, were +right- he did not know. "But was it really not possible for Kutuzov to +state his views plainly to the Emperor? Is it possible that on account +of court and personal considerations tens of thousands of lives, and +my life, my life," he thought, "must be risked?" + +"Yes, it is very likely that I shall be killed tomorrow," he +thought. And suddenly, at this thought of death, a whole series of +most distant, most intimate, memories rose in his imagination: he +remembered his last parting from his father and his wife; he +remembered the days when he first loved her. He thought of her +pregnancy and felt sorry for her and for himself, and in a nervously +emotional and softened mood he went out of the hut in which he was +billeted with Nesvitski and began to walk up and down before it. + +The night was foggy and through the fog the moonlight gleamed +mysteriously. "Yes, tomorrow, tomorrow!" he thought. "Tomorrow +everything may be over for me! All these memories will be no more, +none of them will have any meaning for me. Tomorrow perhaps, even +certainly, I have a presentiment that for the first time I shall +have to show all I can do." And his fancy pictured the battle, its +loss, the concentration of fighting at one point, and the hesitation +of all the commanders. And then that happy moment, that Toulon for +which he had so long waited, presents itself to him at last. He firmly +and clearly expresses his opinion to Kutuzov, to Weyrother, and to the +Emperors. All are struck by the justness of his views, but no one +undertakes to carry them out, so he takes a regiment, a division- +stipulates that no one is to interfere with his arrangements- leads +his division to the decisive point, and gains the victory alone. +"But death and suffering?" suggested another voice. Prince Andrew, +however, did not answer that voice and went on dreaming of his +triumphs. The dispositions for the next battle are planned by him +alone. Nominally he is only an adjutant on Kutuzov's staff, but he +does everything alone. The next battle is won by him alone. Kutuzov is +removed and he is appointed... "Well and then?" asked the other voice. +"If before that you are not ten times wounded, killed, or betrayed, +well... what then?..." "Well then," Prince Andrew answered himself, "I +don't know what will happen and don't want to know, and can't, but +if I want this- want glory, want to be known to men, want to be +loved by them, it is not my fault that I want it and want nothing +but that and live only for that. Yes, for that alone! I shall never +tell anyone, but, oh God! what am I to do if I love nothing but fame +and men's esteem? Death, wounds, the loss of family- I fear nothing. +And precious and dear as many persons are to me- father, sister, wife- +those dearest to me- yet dreadful and unnatural as it seems, I would +give them all at once for a moment of glory, of triumph over men, of +love from men I don't know and never shall know, for the love of these +men here," he thought, as he listened to voices in Kutuzov's +courtyard. The voices were those of the orderlies who were packing up; +one voice, probably a coachman's, was teasing Kutuzov's old cook +whom Prince Andrew knew, and who was called Tit. He was saying, +"Tit, I say, Tit!" + +"Well?" returned the old man. + +"Go, Tit, thresh a bit!" said the wag. + +"Oh, go to the devil!" called out a voice, drowned by the laughter +of the orderlies and servants. + +"All the same, I love and value nothing but triumph over them all, I +value this mystic power and glory that is floating here above me in +this mist!" + +CHAPTER XIII + +That same night, Rostov was with a platoon on skirmishing duty in +front of Bagration's detachment. His hussars were placed along the +line in couples and he himself rode along the line trying to master +the sleepiness that kept coming over him. An enormous space, with +our army's campfires dimly glowing in the fog, could be seen behind +him; in front of him was misty darkness. Rostov could see nothing, +peer as he would into that foggy distance: now something gleamed gray, +now there was something black, now little lights seemed to glimmer +where the enemy ought to be, now he fancied it was only something in +his own eyes. His eyes kept closing, and in his fancy appeared- now +the Emperor, now Denisov, and now Moscow memories- and he again +hurriedly opened his eyes and saw close before him the head and ears +of the horse he was riding, and sometimes, when he came within six +paces of them, the black figures of hussars, but in the distance was +still the same misty darkness. "Why not?... It might easily happen," +thought Rostov, "that the Emperor will meet me and give me an order as +he would to any other officer; he'll say: 'Go and find out what's +there.' There are many stories of his getting to know an officer in +just such a chance way and attaching him to himself! What if he gave +me a place near him? Oh, how I would guard him, how I would tell him +the truth, how I would unmask his deceivers!" And in order to +realize vividly his love devotion to the sovereign, Rostov pictured to +himself an enemy or a deceitful German, whom he would not only kill +with pleasure but whom he would slap in the face before the Emperor. +Suddenly a distant shout aroused him. He started and opened his eyes. + +"Where am I? Oh yes, in the skirmishing line... pass and +watchword- shaft, Olmutz. What a nuisance that our squadron will be in +reserve tomorrow," he thought. "I'll ask leave to go to the front, +this may be my only chance of seeing the Emperor. It won't be long now +before I am off duty. I'll take another turn and when I get back +I'll go to the general and ask him." He readjusted himself in the +saddle and touched up his horse to ride once more round his hussars. +It seemed to him that it was getting lighter. To the left he saw a +sloping descent lit up, and facing it a black knoll that seemed as +steep as a wall. On this knoll there was a white patch that Rostov +could not at all make out: was it a glade in the wood lit up by the +moon, or some unmelted snow, or some white houses? He even thought +something moved on that white spot. "I expect it's snow... that +spot... a spot- une tache," he thought. "There now... it's not a +tache... Natasha... sister, black eyes... Na... tasha... (Won't she be +surprised when I tell her how I've seen the Emperor?) Natasha... +take my sabretache..."- "Keep to the right, your honor, there are +bushes here," came the voice of an hussar, past whom Rostov was riding +in the act of falling asleep. Rostov lifted his head that had sunk +almost to his horse's mane and pulled up beside the hussar. He was +succumbing to irresistible, youthful, childish drowsiness. "But what +was I thinking? I mustn't forget. How shall I speak to the Emperor? +No, that's not it- that's tomorrow. Oh yes! Natasha... sabretache... +saber them...Whom? The hussars... Ah, the hussars with mustaches. +Along the Tverskaya Street rode the hussar with mustaches... I thought +about him too, just opposite Guryev's house... Old Guryev.... Oh, +but Denisov's a fine fellow. But that's all nonsense. The chief +thing is that the Emperor is here. How he looked at me and wished to +say something, but dared not.... No, it was I who dared not. But +that's nonsense, the chief thing is not to forget the important +thing I was thinking of. Yes, Na-tasha, sabretache, oh, yes, yes! +That's right!" And his head once more sank to his horse's neck. All at +once it seemed to him that he was being fired at. "What? What? +What?... Cut them down! What?..." said Rostov, waking up. At the +moment he opened his eyes his eyes he heard in front of him, where the +enemy was, the long-drawn shouts of thousands of voices. His horse and +the horse of the hussar near him pricked their ears at these shouts. +Over there, where the shouting came from, a fire flared up and went +out again, then another, and all along the French line on the hill +fires flared up and the shouting grew louder and louder. Rostov +could hear the sound of French words but could not distinguish them. +The din of many voices was too great; all he could hear was: "ahahah!" +and "rrrr!" + +"What's that? What do you make of it?" said Rostov to the hussar +beside him. "That must be the enemy's camp!" + +The hussar did not reply. + +"Why, don't you hear it?" Rostov asked again, after waiting for a +reply. + +"Who can tell, your honor?" replied the hussar reluctantly. + +"From the direction, it must be the enemy," repeated Rostov. + +"It may be he or it may be nothing," muttered the hussar. "It's +dark... Steady!" he cried to his fidgeting horse. + +Rostov's horse was also getting restive: it pawed the frozen ground, +pricking its ears at the noise and looking at the lights. The shouting +grew still louder and merged into a general roar that only an army +of several thousand men could produce. The lights spread farther and +farther, probably along the line of the French camp. Rostov no +longer wanted to sleep. The gay triumphant shouting of the enemy +army had a stimulating effect on him. "Vive l'Empereur! L'Empereur!" +he now heard distinctly. + +"They can't be far off, probably just beyond the stream," he said to +the hussar beside him. + +The hussar only sighed without replying and coughed angrily. The +sound of horse's hoofs approaching at a trot along the line of hussars +was heard, and out of the foggy darkness the figure of a sergeant of +hussars suddenly appeared, looming huge as an elephant. + +"Your honor, the generals!" said the sergeant, riding up to Rostov. + +Rostov, still looking round toward the fires and the shouts, rode +with the sergeant to meet some mounted men who were riding along the +line. One was on a white horse. Prince Bagration and Prince Dolgorukov +with their adjutants had come to witness the curious phenomenon of the +lights and shouts in the enemy's camp. Rostov rode up to Bagration, +reported to him, and then joined the adjutants listening to what the +generals were saying. + +"Believe me," said Prince Dolgorukov, addressing Bagration, "it is +nothing but a trick! He has retreated and ordered the rearguard to +kindle fires and make a noise to deceive us." + +"Hardly," said Bagration. "I saw them this evening on that knoll; if +they had retreated they would have withdrawn from that too.... +Officer!" said Bagration to Rostov, "are the enemy's skirmishers still +there?" + +"They were there this evening, but now I don't know, your +excellency. Shall I go with some of my hussars to see?" replied +Rostov. + +Bagration stopped and, before replying, tried to see Rostov's face +in the mist. + +"Well, go and see," he said, after a pause. + +"Yes, sir." + +Rostov spurred his horse, called to Sergeant Fedchenko and two other +hussars, told them to follow him, and trotted downhill in the +direction from which the shouting came. He felt both frightened and +pleased to be riding alone with three hussars into that mysterious and +dangerous misty distance where no one had been before him. Bagration +called to him from the hill not to go beyond the stream, but Rostov +pretended not to hear him and did not stop but rode on and on, +continually mistaking bushes for trees and gullies for men and +continually discovering his mistakes. Having descended the hill at a +trot, he no longer saw either our own or the enemy's fires, but +heard the shouting of the French more loudly and distinctly. In the +valley he saw before him something like a river, but when he reached +it he found it was a road. Having come out onto the road he reined +in his horse, hesitating whether to ride along it or cross it and ride +over the black field up the hillside. To keep to the road which +gleamed white in the mist would have been safer because it would be +easier to see people coming along it. "Follow me!" said he, crossed +the road, and began riding up the hill at a gallop toward the point +where the French pickets had been standing that evening. + +"Your honor, there he is!" cried one of the hussars behind him. +And before Rostov had time to make out what the black thing was that +had suddenly appeared in the fog, there was a flash, followed by a +report, and a bullet whizzing high up in the mist with a plaintive +sound passed out of hearing. Another musket missed fire but flashed in +the pan. Rostov turned his horse and galloped back. Four more +reports followed at intervals, and the bullets passed somewhere in the +fog singing in different tones. Rostov reined in his horse, whose +spirits had risen, like his own, at the firing, and went back at a +footpace. "Well, some more! Some more!" a merry voice was saying in +his soul. But no more shots came. + +Only when approaching Bagration did Rostov let his horse gallop +again, and with his hand at the salute rode up to the general. + +Dolgorukov was still insisting that the French had retreated and had +only lit fires to deceive us. + +"What does that prove?" he was saying as Rostov rode up. "They might +retreat and leave the pickets." + +"It's plain that they have not all gone yet, Prince," said +Bagration. "Wait till tomorrow morning, we'll find out everything +tomorrow." + +"The picket is still on the hill, your excellency, just where it was +in the evening," reported Rostov, stooping forward with his hand at +the salute and unable to repress the smile of delight induced by his +ride and especially by the sound of the bullets. + +"Very good, very good," said Bagration. "Thank you, officer." + +"Your excellency," said Rostov, "may I ask a favor?" + +"What is it?" + +"Tomorrow our squadron is to be in reserve. May I ask to be attached +to the first squadron?" + +"What's your name?" + +"Count Rostov." + +"Oh, very well, you may stay in attendance on me." + +"Count Ilya Rostov's son?" asked Dolgorukov. + +But Rostov did not reply. + +"Then I may reckon on it, your excellency?" + +"I will give the order." + +"Tomorrow very likely I may be sent with some message to the +Emperor," thought Rostov. + +"Thank God!" + +The fires and shouting in the enemy's army were occasioned by the +fact that while Napoleon's proclamation was being read to the troops +the Emperor himself rode round his bivouacs. The soldiers, on seeing +him, lit wisps of straw and ran after him, shouting, "Vive +l'Empereur!" Napoleon's proclamation was as follows: + +Soldiers! The Russian army is advancing against you to avenge the +Austrian army of Ulm. They are the same battalions you broke at +Hollabrunn and have pursued ever since to this place. The position +we occupy is a strong one, and while they are marching to go round +me on the right they will expose a flank to me. Soldiers! I will +myself direct your battalions. I will keep out of fire if you with +your habitual valor carry disorder and confusion into the enemy's +ranks, but should victory be in doubt, even for a moment, you will see +your Emperor exposing himself to the first blows of the enemy, for +there must be no doubt of victory, especially on this day when what is +at stake is the honor of the French infantry, so necessary to the +honor of our nation. + +Do not break your ranks on the plea of removing the wounded! Let +every man be fully imbued with the thought that we must defeat these +hirelings of England, inspired by such hatred of our nation! This +victory will conclude our campaign and we can return to winter +quarters, where fresh French troops who are being raised in France +will join us, and the peace I shall conclude will be worthy of my +people, of you, and of myself. + +NAPOLEON + +CHAPTER XIV + +At five in the morning it was still quite dark. The troops of the +center, the reserves, and Bagration's right flank had not yet moved, +but on the left flank the columns of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, +which were to be the first to descend the heights to attack the French +right flank and drive it into the Bohemian mountains according to +plan, were already up and astir. The smoke of the campfires, into +which they were throwing everything superfluous, made the eyes +smart. It was cold and dark. The officers were hurriedly drinking +tea and breakfasting, the soldiers, munching biscuit and beating a +tattoo with their feet to warm themselves, gathering round the fires +throwing into the flames the remains of sheds, chairs, tables, wheels, +tubs, and everything that they did not want or could not carry away +with them. Austrian column guides were moving in and out among the +Russian troops and served as heralds of the advance. As soon as an +Austrian officer showed himself near a commanding officer's +quarters, the regiment began to move: the soldiers ran from the fires, +thrust their pipes into their boots, their bags into the carts, got +their muskets ready, and formed rank. The officers buttoned up their +coats, buckled on their swords and pouches, and moved along the +ranks shouting. The train drivers and orderlies harnessed and packed +the wagons and tied on the loads. The adjutants and battalion and +regimental commanders mounted, crossed themselves, gave final +instructions, orders, and commissions to the baggage men who +remained behind, and the monotonous tramp of thousands of feet +resounded. The column moved forward without knowing where and +unable, from the masses around them, the smoke and the increasing fog, +to see either the place they were leaving or that to which they were +going. + +A soldier on the march is hemmed in and borne along by his +regiment as much as a sailor is by his ship. However far he has +walked, whatever strange, unknown, and dangerous places he reaches, +just as a sailor is always surrounded by the same decks, masts, and +rigging of his ship, so the soldier always has around him the same +comrades, the same ranks, the same sergeant major Ivan Mitrich, the +same company dog Jack, and the same commanders. The sailor rarely +cares to know the latitude in which his ship is sailing, but on the +day of battle- heaven knows how and whence- a stern note of which +all are conscious sounds in the moral atmosphere of an army, +announcing the approach of something decisive and solemn, and +awakening in the men an unusual curiosity. On the day of battle the +soldiers excitedly try to get beyond the interests of their +regiment, they listen intently, look about, and eagerly ask concerning +what is going on around them. + +The fog had grown so dense that though it was growing light they +could not see ten paces ahead. Bushes looked like gigantic trees and +level ground like cliffs and slopes. Anywhere, on any side, one +might encounter an enemy invisible ten paces off. But the columns +advanced for a long time, always in the same fog, descending and +ascending hills, avoiding gardens and enclosures, going over new and +unknown ground, and nowhere encountering the enemy. On the contrary, +the soldiers became aware that in front, behind, and on all sides, +other Russian columns were moving in the same direction. Every soldier +felt glad to know that to the unknown place where he was going, many +more of our men were going too. + +"There now, the Kurskies have also gone past," was being said in the +ranks. + +"It's wonderful what a lot of our troops have gathered, lads! Last +night I looked at the campfires and there was no end of them. A +regular Moscow!" + +Though none of the column commanders rode up to the ranks or +talked to the men (the commanders, as we saw at the council of war, +were out of humor and dissatisfied with the affair, and so did not +exert themselves to cheer the men but merely carried out the +orders), yet the troops marched gaily, as they always do when going +into action, especially to an attack. But when they had marched for +about an hour in the dense fog, the greater part of the men had to +halt and an unpleasant consciousness of some dislocation and blunder +spread through the ranks. How such a consciousness is communicated +is very difficult to define, but it certainly is communicated very +surely, and flows rapidly, imperceptibly, and irrepressibly, as +water does in a creek. Had the Russian army been alone without any +allies, it might perhaps have been a long time before this +consciousness of mismanagement became a general conviction, but as +it was, the disorder was readily and naturally attributed to the +stupid Germans, and everyone was convinced that a dangerous muddle had +been occasioned by the sausage eaters. + +"Why have we stopped? Is the way blocked? Or have we already come up +against the French?" + +"No, one can't hear them. They'd be firing if we had." + +"They were in a hurry enough to start us, and now here we stand in +the middle of a field without rhyme or reason. It's all those damned +Germans' muddling! What stupid devils!" + +"Yes, I'd send them on in front, but no fear, they're crowding up +behind. And now here we stand hungry." + +"I say, shall we soon be clear? They say the cavalry are blocking +the way," said an officer. + +"Ah, those damned Germans! They don't know their own country!" +said another. + +"What division are you?" shouted an adjutant, riding up. + +"The Eighteenth." + +"Then why are you here? You should have gone on long ago, now you +won't get there till evening." + +"What stupid orders! They don't themselves know what they are +doing!" said the officer and rode off. + +Then a general rode past shouting something angrily, not in Russian. + +"Tafa-lafa! But what he's jabbering no one can make out," said a +soldier, mimicking the general who had ridden away. "I'd shoot them, +the scoundrels!" + +"We were ordered to be at the place before nine, but we haven't +got halfway. Fine orders!" was being repeated on different sides. + +And the feeling of energy with which the troops had started began to +turn into vexation and anger at the stupid arrangements and at the +Germans. + +The cause of the confusion was that while the Austrian cavalry was +moving toward our left flank, the higher command found that our center +was too far separated from our right flank and the cavalry were all +ordered to turn back to the right. Several thousand cavalry crossed in +front of the infantry, who had to wait. + +At the front an altercation occurred between an Austrian guide and a +Russian general. The general shouted a demand that the cavalry +should be halted, the Austrian argued that not he, but the higher +command, was to blame. The troops meanwhile stood growing listless and +dispirited. After an hour's delay they at last moved on, descending +the hill. The fog that was dispersing on the hill lay still more +densely below, where they were descending. In front in the fog a +shot was heard and then another, at first irregularly at varying +intervals- trata... tat- and then more and more regularly and rapidly, +and the action at the Goldbach Stream began. + +Not expecting to come on the enemy down by the stream, and having +stumbled on him in the fog, hearing no encouraging word from their +commanders, and with a consciousness of being too late spreading +through the ranks, and above all being unable to see anything in front +or around them in the thick fog, the Russians exchanged shots with the +enemy lazily and advanced and again halted, receiving no timely orders +from the officers or adjutants who wandered about in the fog in +those unknown surroundings unable to find their own regiments. In this +way the action began for the first, second, and third columns, which +had gone down into the valley. The fourth column, with which Kutuzov +was, stood on the Pratzen Heights. + +Below, where the fight was beginning, there was still thick fog; +on the higher ground it was clearing, but nothing could be seen of +what was going on in front. Whether all the enemy forces were, as we +supposed, six miles away, or whether they were near by in that sea +of mist, no one knew till after eight o'clock. + +It was nine o'clock in the morning. The fog lay unbroken like a +sea down below, but higher up at the village of Schlappanitz where +Napoleon stood with his marshals around him, it was quite light. Above +him was a clear blue sky, and the sun's vast orb quivered like a +huge hollow, crimson float on the surface of that milky sea of mist. +The whole French army, and even Napoleon himself with his staff, +were not on the far side of the streams and hollows of Sokolnitz and +Schlappanitz beyond which we intended to take up our position and +begin the action, but were on this side, so close to our own forces +that Napoleon with the naked eye could distinguish a mounted man +from one on foot. Napoleon, in the blue cloak which he had worn on his +Italian campaign, sat on his small gray Arab horse a little in front +of his marshals. He gazed silently at the hills which seemed to rise +out of the sea of mist and on which the Russian troops were moving +in the distance, and he listened to the sounds of firing in the +valley. Not a single muscle of his face- which in those days was still +thin- moved. His gleaming eyes were fixed intently on one spot. His +predictions were being justified. Part of the Russian force had +already descended into the valley toward the ponds and lakes and +part were leaving these Pratzen Heights which he intended to attack +and regarded as the key to the position. He saw over the mist that +in a hollow between two hills near the village of Pratzen, the Russian +columns, their bayonets glittering, were moving continuously in one +direction toward the valley and disappearing one after another into +the mist. From information he had received the evening before, from +the sound of wheels and footsteps heard by the outposts during the +night, by the disorderly movement of the Russian columns, and from all +indications, he saw clearly that the allies believed him to be far +away in front of them, and that the columns moving near Pratzen +constituted the center of the Russian army, and that that center was +already sufficiently weakened to be successfully attacked. But still +he did not begin the engagement. + +Today was a great day for him- the anniversary of his coronation. +Before dawn he had slept for a few hours, and refreshed, vigorous, and +in good spirits, he mounted his horse and rode out into the field in +that happy mood in which everything seems possible and everything +succeeds. He sat motionless, looking at the heights visible above +the mist, and his cold face wore that special look of confident, +self-complacent happiness that one sees on the face of a boy happily +in love. The marshals stood behind him not venturing to distract his +attention. He looked now at the Pratzen Heights, now at the sun +floating up out of the mist. + +When the sun had entirely emerged from the fog, and fields and +mist were aglow with dazzling light- as if he had only awaited this to +begin the action- he drew the glove from his shapely white hand, +made a sign with it to the marshals, and ordered the action to +begin. The marshals, accompanied by adjutants, galloped off in +different directions, and a few minutes later the chief forces of +the French army moved rapidly toward those Pratzen Heights which +were being more and more denuded by Russian troops moving down the +valley to their left. + +CHAPTER XV + +At eight o'clock Kutuzov rode to Pratzen at the head of the fourth +column, Miloradovich's, the one that was to take the place of +Przebyszewski's and Langeron's columns which had already gone down +into the valley. He greeted the men of the foremost regiment and +gave them the order to march, thereby indicating that he intended to +lead that column himself. When he had reached the village of Pratzen +he halted. Prince Andrew was behind, among the immense number +forming the commander in chief's suite. He was in a state of +suppressed excitement and irritation, though controlledly calm as a +man is at the approach of a long-awaited moment. He was firmly +convinced that this was the day of his Toulon, or his bridge of +Arcola. How it would come about he did not know, but he felt sure it +would do so. The locality and the position of our troops were known to +him as far as they could be known to anyone in our army. His own +strategic plan, which obviously could not now be carried out, was +forgotten. Now, entering into Weyrother's plan, Prince Andrew +considered possible contingencies and formed new projects such as +might call for his rapidity of perception and decision. + +To the left down below in the mist, the musketry fire of unseen +forces could be heard. It was there Prince Andrew thought the fight +would concentrate. "There we shall encounter difficulties, and there," +thought he, "I shall be sent with a brigade or division, and there, +standard in hand, I shall go forward and break whatever is in front of +me." + +He could not look calmly at the standards of the passing battalions. +Seeing them he kept thinking, "That may be the very standard with +which I shall lead the army." + +In the morning all that was left of the night mist on the heights +was a hoar frost now turning to dew, but in the valleys it still lay +like a milk-white sea. Nothing was visible in the valley to the left +into which our troops had descended and from whence came the sounds of +firing. Above the heights was the dark clear sky, and to the right the +vast orb of the sun. In front, far off on the farther shore of that +sea of mist, some wooded hills were discernible, and it was there +the enemy probably was, for something could be descried. On the +right the Guards were entering the misty region with a sound of +hoofs and wheels and now and then a gleam of bayonets; to the left +beyond the village similar masses of cavalry came up and disappeared +in the sea of mist. In front and behind moved infantry. The +commander in chief was standing at the end of the village letting +the troops pass by him. That morning Kutuzov seemed worn and +irritable. The infantry passing before him came to a halt without +any command being given, apparently obstructed by something in front. + +"Do order them to form into battalion columns and go round the +village!" he said angrily to a general who had ridden up. "Don't you +understand, your excellency, my dear sir, that you must not defile +through narrow village streets when we are marching against the +enemy?" + +"I intended to re-form them beyond the village, your excellency," +answered the general. + +Kutuzov laughed bitterly. + +"You'll make a fine thing of it, deploying in sight of the enemy! +Very fine!" + +"The enemy is still far away, your excellency. According to the +dispositions..." + +"The dispositions!" exclaimed Kutuzov bitterly. "Who told you +that?... Kindly do as you are ordered." + +"Yes, sir." + +"My dear fellow," Nesvitski whispered to Prince Andrew, "the old man +is as surly as a dog." + +An Austrian officer in a white uniform with green plumes in his +hat galloped up to Kutuzov and asked in the Emperor's name had the +fourth column advanced into action. + +Kutuzov turned round without answering and his eye happened to +fall upon Prince Andrew, who was beside him. Seeing him, Kutuzov's +malevolent and caustic expression softened, as if admitting that +what was being done was not his adjutant's fault, and still not +answering the Austrian adjutant, he addressed Bolkonski. + +"Go, my dear fellow, and see whether the third division has passed +the village. Tell it to stop and await my orders." + +Hardly had Prince Andrew started than he stopped him. + +"And ask whether sharpshooters have been posted," he added. "What +are they doing? What are they doing?" he murmured to himself, still +not replying to the Austrian. + +Prince Andrew galloped off to execute the order. + +Overtaking the battalions that continued to advance, he stopped +the third division and convinced himself that there really were no +sharpshooters in front of our columns. The colonel at the head of +the regiment was much surprised at the commander in chief's order to +throw out skirmishers. He had felt perfectly sure that there were +other troops in front of him and that the enemy must be at least six +miles away. There was really nothing to be seen in front except a +barren descent hidden by dense mist. Having given orders in the +commander in chief's name to rectify this omission, Prince Andrew +galloped back. Kutuzov still in the same place, his stout body resting +heavily in the saddle with the lassitude of age, sat yawning wearily +with closed eyes. The troops were no longer moving, but stood with the +butts of their muskets on the ground. + +"All right, all right!" he said to Prince Andrew, and turned to a +general who, watch in hand, was saying it was time they started as all +the left-flank columns had already descended. + +"Plenty of time, your excellency," muttered Kutuzov in the midst +of a yawn. "Plenty of time," he repeated. + +Just then at a distance behind Kutuzov was heard the sound of +regiments saluting, and this sound rapidly came nearer along the whole +extended line of the advancing Russian columns. Evidently the person +they were greeting was riding quickly. When the soldiers of the +regiment in front of which Kutuzov was standing began to shout, he +rode a little to one side and looked round with a frown. Along the +road from Pratzen galloped what looked like a squadron of horsemen +in various uniforms. Two of them rode side by side in front, at full +gallop. One in a black uniform with white plumes in his hat rode a +bobtailed chestnut horse, the other who was in a white uniform rode +a black one. These were the two Emperors followed by their suites. +Kutuzov, affecting the manners of an old soldier at the front, gave +the command "Attention!" and rode up to the Emperors with a salute. +His whole appearance and manner were suddenly transformed. He put on +the air of a subordinate who obeys without reasoning. With an +affectation of respect which evidently struck Alexander +unpleasantly, he rode up and saluted. + +This unpleasant impression merely flitted over the young and happy +face of the Emperor like a cloud of haze across a clear sky and +vanished. After his illness he looked rather thinner that day than +on the field of Olmutz where Bolkonski had seen him for the first time +abroad, but there was still the same bewitching combination of majesty +and mildness in his fine gray eyes, and on his delicate lips the +same capacity for varying expression and the same prevalent appearance +of goodhearted innocent youth. + +At the Olmutz review he had seemed more majestic; here he seemed +brighter and more energetic. He was slightly flushed after galloping +two miles, and reining in his horse he sighed restfully and looked +round at the faces of his suite, young and animated as his own. +Czartoryski, Novosiltsev, Prince Volkonsky, Strogonov, and the others, +all richly dressed gay young men on splendid, well-groomed, fresh, +only slightly heated horses, exchanging remarks and smiling, had +stopped behind the Emperor. The Emperor Francis, a rosy, long faced +young man, sat very erect on his handsome black horse, looking about +him in a leisurely and preoccupied manner. He beckoned to one of his +white adjutants and asked some question- "Most likely he is asking +at what o'clock they started," thought Prince Andrew, watching his old +acquaintance with a smile he could not repress as he recalled his +reception at Brunn. In the Emperors' suite were the picked young +orderly officers of the Guard and line regiments, Russian and +Austrian. Among them were grooms leading the Tsar's beautiful relay +horses covered with embroidered cloths. + +As when a window is opened a whiff of fresh air from the fields +enters a stuffy room, so a whiff of youthfulness, energy, and +confidence of success reached Kutuzov's cheerless staff with the +galloping advent of all these brilliant young men. + +"Why aren't you beginning, Michael Ilarionovich?" said the Emperor +Alexander hurriedly to Kutuzov, glancing courteously at the same +time at the Emperor Francis. + +"I am waiting, Your Majesty," answered Kutuzov, bending forward +respectfully. + +The Emperor, frowning slightly, bent his ear forward as if he had +not quite heard. + +"Waiting, Your Majesty," repeated Kutuzov. (Prince Andrew noted that +Kutuzov's upper lip twitched unnaturally as he said the word +"waiting.") "Not all the columns have formed up yet, Your Majesty." + +The Tsar heard but obviously did not like the reply; he shrugged his +rather round shoulders and glanced at Novosiltsev who was near him, as +if complaining of Kutuzov. + +"You know, Michael Ilarionovich, we are not are not on the +Empress' Field where a parade does not begin till all the troops are +assembled," said the Tsar with another glance at the Emperor +Francis, as if inviting him if not to join in at least to listen to +what he was saying. But the Emperor Francis continued to look about +him and did not listen. + +"That is just why I do not begin, sire," said Kutuzov in a +resounding voice, apparently to preclude the possibility of not +being heard, and again something in his face twitched- "That is just +why I do not begin, sire, because we are not on parade and not on +the Empress' Field." said clearly and distinctly. + +In the Emperor's suite all exchanged rapid looks that expressed +dissatisfaction and reproach. "Old though he may be, he should not, he +certainly should not, speak like that," their glances seemed to say. + +The Tsar looked intently and observantly into Kutuzov's eye +waiting to hear whether he would say anything more. But Kutuzov, +with respectfully bowed head, seemed also to be waiting. The silence +lasted for about a minute. + +"However, if you command it, Your Majesty," said Kutuzov, lifting +his head and again assuming his former tone of a dull, unreasoning, +but submissive general. + +He touched his horse and having called Miloradovich, the commander +of the column, gave him the order to advance. + +The troops again began to move, and two battalions of the Novgorod +and one of the Apsheron regiment went forward past the Emperor. + +As this Apsheron battalion marched by, the red-faced Miloradovich, +without his greatcoat, with his Orders on his breast and an enormous +tuft of plumes in his cocked hat worn on one side with its corners +front and back, galloped strenuously forward, and with a dashing +salute reined in his horse before the Emperor. + +"God be with you, general!" said the Emperor. + +"Ma foi, sire, nous ferons ce qui sera dans notre possibilite, +sire,"~^ he answered gaily, raising nevertheless ironic smiles among +the gentlemen of the Tsar's suite by his poor French. + +^~ "Indeed, Sire, we shall do everything it is possible to do, Sire." + +Miloradovich wheeled his horse sharply and stationed himself a +little behind the Emperor. The Apsheron men, excited by the Tsar's +presence, passed in step before the Emperors and their suites at a +bold, brisk pace. + +"Lads!" shouted Miloradovich in a loud, self-confident, and cheery +voice, obviously so elated by the sound of firing, by the prospect +of battle, and by the sight of the gallant Apsherons, his comrades +in Suvorov's time, now passing so gallantly before the Emperors, +that he forgot the sovereigns' presence. "Lads, it's not the first +village you've had to take," cried he. + +"Glad to do our best!" shouted the soldiers. + +The Emperor's horse started at the sudden cry. This horse that had +carried the sovereign at reviews in Russia bore him also here on the +field of Austerlitz, enduring the heedless blows of his left foot +and pricking its ears at the sound of shots just as it had done on the +Empress' Field, not understanding the significance of the firing, +nor of the nearness of the Emperor Francis' black cob, nor of all that +was being said, thought, and felt that day by its rider. + +The Emperor turned with a smile to one of his followers and made a +remark to him, pointing to the gallant Apsherons. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Kutuzov accompanied by his adjutants rode at a walking pace behind +the carabineers. + +When he had gone less than half a mile in the rear of the column +he stopped at a solitary, deserted house that had probably once been +an inn, where two roads parted. Both of them led downhill and troops +were marching along both. + +The fog had begun to clear and enemy troops were already dimly +visible about a mile and a half off on the opposite heights. Down +below, on the left, the firing became more distinct. Kutuzov had +stopped and was speaking to an Austrian general. Prince Andrew, who +was a little behind looking at them, turned to an adjutant to ask +him for a field glass. + +"Look, look!" said this adjutant, looking not at the troops in the +distance, but down the hill before him. "It's the French!" + +The two generals and the adjutant took hold of the field glass, +trying to snatch it from one another. The expression on all their +faces suddenly changed to one of horror. The French were supposed to +be a mile and a half away, but had suddenly and unexpectedly +appeared just in front of us. + +"It's the enemy?... No!... Yes, see it is!... for certain.... But +how is that?" said different voices. + +With the naked eye Prince Andrew saw below them to the right, not +more than five hundred paces from where Kutuzov was standing, a +dense French column coming up to meet the Apsherons. + +"Here it is! The decisive moment has arrived. My turn has come," +thought Prince Andrew, and striking his horse he rode up to Kutuzov. + +"The Apsherons must be stopped, your excellency," cried he. But at +that very instant a cloud of smoke spread all round, firing was +heard quite close at hand, and a voice of naive terror barely two +steps from Prince Andrew shouted, "Brothers! All's lost!" And at +this as if at a command, everyone began to run. + +Confused and ever-increasing crowds were running back to where +five minutes before the troops had passed the Emperors. Not only would +it have been difficult to stop that crowd, it was even impossible +not to be carried back with it oneself. Bolkonski only tried not to +lose touch with it, and looked around bewildered and unable to grasp +what was happening in front of him. Nesvitski with an angry face, +red and unlike himself, was shouting to Kutuzov that if he did not +ride away at once he would certainly be taken prisoner. Kutuzov +remained in the same place and without answering drew out a +handkerchief. Blood was flowing from his cheek. Prince Andrew forced +his way to him. + +"You are wounded?" he asked, hardly able to master the trembling +of his lower jaw. + +"The wound is not here, it is there!" said Kutuzov, pressing the +handkerchief to his wounded cheek and pointing to the fleeing +soldiers. "Stop them!" he shouted, and at the same moment, probably +realizing that it was impossible to stop them, spurred his horse and +rode to the right. + +A fresh wave of the flying mob caught him and bore him back with it. + +The troops were running in such a dense mass that once surrounded by +them it was difficult to get out again. One was shouting, "Get on! Why +are you hindering us?" Another in the same place turned round and +fired in the air; a third was striking the horse Kutuzov himself rode. +Having by a great effort got away to the left from that flood of +men, Kutuzov, with his suite diminished by more than half, rode toward +a sound of artillery fire near by. Having forced his way out of the +crowd of fugitives, Prince Andrew, trying to keep near Kutuzov, saw on +the slope of the hill amid the smoke a Russian battery that was +still firing and Frenchmen running toward it. Higher up stood some +Russian infantry, neither moving forward to protect the battery nor +backward with the fleeing crowd. A mounted general separated himself +from the infantry and approached Kutuzov. Of Kutuzov's suite only four +remained. They were all pale and exchanged looks in silence. + +"Stop those wretches!" gasped Kutuzov to the regimental commander, +pointing to the flying soldiers; but at that instant, as if to +punish him for those words, bullets flew hissing across the regiment +and across Kutuzov's suite like a flock of little birds. + +The French had attacked the battery and, seeing Kutuzov, were firing +at him. After this volley the regimental commander clutched at his +leg; several soldiers fell, and a second lieutenant who was holding +the flag let it fall from his hands. It swayed and fell, but caught on +the muskets of the nearest soldiers. The soldiers started firing +without orders. + +"Oh! Oh! Oh!" groaned Kutuzov despairingly and looked around.... +"Bolkonski!" he whispered, his voice trembling from a consciousness of +the feebleness of age, "Bolkonski!" he whispered, pointing to the +disordered battalion and at the enemy, "what's that?" + +But before he had finished speaking, Prince Andrew, feeling tears of +shame and anger choking him, had already leapt from his horse and +run to the standard. + +"Forward, lads!" he shouted in a voice piercing as a child's. + +"Here it is!" thought he, seizing the staff of the standard and +hearing with pleasure the whistle of bullets evidently aimed at him. +Several soldiers fell. + +"Hurrah!" shouted Prince Andrew, and, scarcely able to hold up the +heavy standard, he ran forward with full confidence that the whole +battalion would follow him. + +And really he only ran a few steps alone. One soldier moved and then +another and soon the whole battalion ran forward shouting "Hurrah!" +and overtook him. A sergeant of the battalion ran up and took the flag +that was swaying from its weight in Prince Andrew's hands, but he +was immediately killed. Prince Andrew again seized the standard and, +dragging it by the staff, ran on with the battalion. In front he saw +our artillerymen, some of whom were fighting, while others, having +abandoned their guns, were running toward him. He also saw French +infantry soldiers who were seizing the artillery horses and turning +the guns round. Prince Andrew and the battalion were already within +twenty paces of the cannon. He heard the whistle of bullets above +him unceasingly and to right and left of him soldiers continually +groaned and dropped. But he did not look at them: he looked only at +what was going on in front of him- at the battery. He now saw +clearly the figure of a red-haired gunner with his shako knocked awry, +pulling one end of a mop while a French soldier tugged at the other. +He could distinctly see the distraught yet angry expression on the +faces of these two men, who evidently did not realize what they were +doing. + +"What are they about?" thought Prince Andrew as he gazed at them. +"Why doesn't the red-haired gunner run away as he is unarmed? Why +doesn't the Frenchman stab him? He will not get away before the +Frenchman remembers his bayonet and stabs him...." + +And really another French soldier, trailing his musket, ran up to +the struggling men, and the fate of the red-haired gunner, who had +triumphantly secured the mop and still did not realize what awaited +him, was about to be decided. But Prince Andrew did not see how it +ended. It seemed to him as though one of the soldiers near him hit him +on the head with the full swing of a bludgeon. It hurt a little, but +the worst of it was that the pain distracted him and prevented his +seeing what he had been looking at. + +"What's this? Am I falling? My legs are giving way," thought he, and +fell on his back. He opened his eyes, hoping to see how the struggle +of the Frenchmen with the gunners ended, whether the red-haired gunner +had been killed or not and whether the cannon had been captured or +saved. But he saw nothing. Above him there was now nothing but the +sky- the lofty sky, not clear yet still immeasurably lofty, with +gray clouds gliding slowly across it. "How quiet, peaceful, and +solemn; not at all as I ran," thought Prince Andrew- "not as we ran, +shouting and fighting, not at all as the gunner and the Frenchman with +frightened and angry faces struggled for the mop: how differently do +those clouds glide across that lofty infinite sky! How was it I did +not see that lofty sky before? And how happy I am to have found it +at last! Yes! All is vanity, all falsehood, except that infinite +sky. There is nothing, nothing, but that. But even it does not +exist, there is nothing but quiet and peace. Thank God!..." + +CHAPTER XVII + +On our right flank commanded by Bagration, at nine o'clock the +battle had not yet begun. Not wishing to agree to Dolgorukov's +demand to commence the action, and wishing to avert responsibility +from himself, Prince Bagration proposed to Dolgorukov to send to +inquire of the commander in chief. Bagration knew that as the distance +between the two flanks was more than six miles, even if the +messenger were not killed (which he very likely would be), and found +the commander in chief (which would be very difficult), he would not +be able to get back before evening. + +Bagration cast his large, expressionless, sleepy eyes round his +suite, and the boyish face Rostov, breathless with excitement and +hope, was the first to catch his eye. He sent him. + +"And if I should meet His Majesty before I meet the commander in +chief, your excellency?" said Rostov, with his hand to his cap. + +"You can give the message to His Majesty," said Dolgorukov, +hurriedly interrupting Bagration. + +On being relieved from picket duty Rostov had managed to get a few +hours' sleep before morning and felt cheerful, bold, and resolute, +with elasticity of movement, faith in his good fortune, and +generally in that state of mind which makes everything seem +possible, pleasant, and easy. + +All his wishes were being fulfilled that morning: there was to be +a general engagement in which he was taking part, more than that, he +was orderly to the bravest general, and still more, he was going +with a message to Kutuzov, perhaps even to the sovereign himself. +The morning was bright, he had a good horse under him, and his heart +was full of joy and happiness. On receiving the order he gave his +horse the rein and galloped along the line. At first he rode along the +line of Bagration's troops, which had not yet advanced into action but +were standing motionless; then he came to the region occupied by +Uvarov's cavalry and here he noticed a stir and signs of preparation +for battle; having passed Uvarov's cavalry he clearly heard the +sound of cannon and musketry ahead of him. The firing grew louder +and louder. + +In the fresh morning air were now heard, not two or three musket +shots at irregular intervals as before, followed by one or two +cannon shots, but a roll of volleys of musketry from the slopes of the +hill before Pratzen, interrupted by such frequent reports of cannon +that sometimes several of them were not separated from one another but +merged into a general roar. + +He could see puffs of musketry smoke that seemed to chase one +another down the hillsides, and clouds of cannon smoke rolling, +spreading, and mingling with one another. He could also, by the +gleam of bayonets visible through the smoke, make out moving masses of +infantry and narrow lines of artillery with green caissons. + +Rostov stopped his horse for a moment on a hillock to see what was +going on, but strain his attention as he would he could not understand +or make out anything of what was happening: there in the smoke men +of some sort were moving about, in front and behind moved lines of +troops; but why, whither, and who they were, it was impossible to make +out. These sights and sounds had no depressing or intimidating +effect on him; on the contrary, they stimulated his energy and +determination. + +"Go on! Go on! Give it them!" he mentally exclaimed at these sounds, +and again proceeded to gallop along the line, penetrating farther +and farther into the region where the army was already in action. + +"How it will be there I don't know, but all will be well!" thought +Rostov. + +After passing some Austrian troops he noticed that the next part +of the line (the Guards) was already in action. + +"So much the better! I shall see it close," he thought. + +He was riding almost along the front line. A handful of men came +galloping toward him. They were our Uhlans who with disordered ranks +were returning from the attack. Rostov got out of their way, +involuntarily noticed that one of them was bleeding, and galloped on. + +"That is no business of mine," he thought. He had not ridden many +hundred yards after that before he saw to his left, across the whole +width of the field, an enormous mass of cavalry in brilliant white +uniforms, mounted on black horses, trotting straight toward him and +across his path. Rostov put his horse to full gallop to get out of the +way of these men, and he would have got clear had they continued at +the same speed, but they kept increasing their pace, so that some of +the horses were already galloping. Rostov heard the thud of their +hoofs and the jingle of their weapons and saw their horses, their +figures, and even their faces, more and more distinctly. They were our +Horse Guards, advancing to attack the French cavalry that was coming +to meet them. + +The Horse Guards were galloping, but still holding in their +horses. Rostov could already see their faces and heard the command: +"Charge!" shouted by an officer who was urging his thoroughbred to +full speed. Rostov, fearing to be crushed or swept into the attack +on the French, galloped along the front as hard as his horse could go, +but still was not in time to avoid them. + +The last of the Horse Guards, a huge pockmarked fellow, frowned +angrily on seeing Rostov before him, with whom he would inevitably +collide. This Guardsman would certainly have bowled Rostov and his +Bedouin over (Rostov felt himself quite tiny and weak compared to +these gigantic men and horses) had it not occurred to Rostov to +flourish his whip before the eyes of the Guardsman's horse. The +heavy black horse, sixteen hands high, shied, throwing back its +ears; but the pockmarked Guardsman drove his huge spurs in +violently, and the horse, flourishing its tail and extending its neck, +galloped on yet faster. Hardly had the Horse Guards passed Rostov +before he heard them shout, "Hurrah!" and looking back saw that +their foremost ranks were mixed up with some foreign cavalry with +red epaulets, probably French. He could see nothing more, for +immediately afterwards cannon began firing from somewhere and smoke +enveloped everything. + +At that moment, as the Horse Guards, having passed him, +disappeared in the smoke, Rostov hesitated whether to gallop after +them or to go where he was sent. This was the brilliant charge of +the Horse Guards that amazed the French themselves. Rostov was +horrified to hear later that of all that mass of huge and handsome +men, of all those brilliant, rich youths, officers and cadets, who had +galloped past him on their thousand-ruble horses, only eighteen were +left after the charge. + +"Why should I envy them? My chance is not lost, and maybe I shall +see the Emperor immediately! " thought Rostov and galloped on. + +When he came level with the Foot Guards he noticed that about them +and around them cannon balls were flying, of which he was aware not so +much because he heard their sound as because he saw uneasiness on +the soldiers' faces and unnatural warlike solemnity on those of the +officers. + +Passing behind one of the lines of a regiment of Foot Guards he +heard a voice calling him by name. + +"Rostov!" + +"What?" he answered, not recognizing Boris. + +"I say, we've been in the front line! Our regiment attacked!" said +Boris with the happy smile seen on the faces of young men who have +been under fire for the first time. + +Rostov stopped. + +"Have you?" he said. "Well, how did it go?" + +"We drove them back!" said Boris with animation, growing +talkative. "Can you imagine it?" and he began describing how the +Guards, having taken up their position and seeing troops before +them, thought they were Austrians, and all at once discovered from the +cannon balls discharged by those troops that they were themselves in +the front line and had unexpectedly to go into action. Rostov +without hearing Boris to the end spurred his horse. + +"Where are you off to?" asked Boris. + +"With a message to His Majesty." + +"There he is!" said Boris, thinking Rostov had said "His +Highness," and pointing to the Grand Duke who with his high +shoulders and frowning brows stood a hundred paces away from them in +his helmet and Horse Guards' jacket, shouting something to a pale, +white uniformed Austrian officer. + +"But that's the Grand Duke, and I want the commander in chief or the +Emperor," said Rostov, and was about to spur his horse. + +"Count! Count!" shouted Berg who ran up from the other side as eager +as Boris. "Count! I am wounded in my right hand" (and he showed his +bleeding hand with a handkerchief tied round it) "and I remained at +the front. I held my sword in my left hand, Count. All our family- the +von Bergs- have been knights!" + +He said something more, but Rostov did not wait to hear it and +rode away. + +Having passed the Guards and traversed an empty space, Rostov, to +avoid again getting in front of the first line as he had done when the +Horse Guards charged, followed the line of reserves, going far round +the place where the hottest musket fire and cannonade were heard. +Suddenly he heard musket fire quite close in front of him and behind +our troops, where he could never have expected the enemy to be. + +"What can it be?" he thought. "The enemy in the rear of our army? +Impossible!" And suddenly he was seized by a panic of fear for himself +and for the issue of the whole battle. "But be that what it may," he +reflected, "there is no riding round it now. I must look for the +commander in chief here, and if all is lost it is for me to perish +with the rest." + +The foreboding of evil that had suddenly come over Rostov was more +and more confirmed the farther he rode into the region behind the +village of Pratzen, which was full of troops of all kinds. + +"What does it mean? What is it? Whom are they firing at? Who is +firing?" Rostov kept asking as he came up to Russian and Austrian +soldiers running in confused crowds across his path. + +"The devil knows! They've killed everybody! It's all up now!" he was +told in Russian, German, and Czech by the crowd of fugitives who +understood what was happening as little as he did. + +"Kill the Germans!" shouted one. + +"May the devil take them- the traitors!" + +"Zum Henker diese Russen!"~^ muttered a German. + +^~ "Hang these Russians!" + +Several wounded men passed along the road, and words of abuse, +screams, and groans mingled in a general hubbub, then the firing +died down. Rostov learned later that Russian and Austrian soldiers had +been firing at one another. + +"My God! What does it all mean?" thought he. "And here, where at any +moment the Emperor may see them.... But no, these must be only a +handful of scoundrels. It will soon be over, it can't be that, it +can't be! Only to get past them quicker, quicker!" + +The idea of defeat and flight could not enter Rostov's head. +Though he saw French cannon and French troops on the Pratzen Heights +just where he had been ordered to look for the commander in chief, +he could not, did not wish to, believe that. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Rostov had been ordered to look for Kutuzov and the Emperor near the +village of Pratzen. But neither they nor a single commanding officer +were there, only disorganized crowds of troops of various kinds. He +urged on his already weary horse to get quickly past these crowds, but +the farther he went the more disorganized they were. The highroad on +which he had come out was thronged with caleches, carriages of all +sorts, and Russian and Austrian soldiers of all arms, some wounded and +some not. This whole mass droned and jostled in confusion under the +dismal influence of cannon balls flying from the French batteries +stationed on the Pratzen Heights. + +"Where is the Emperor? Where is Kutuzov?" Rostov kept asking +everyone he could stop, but got no answer from anyone. + +At last seizing a soldier by his collar he forced him to answer. + +"Eh, brother! They've all bolted long ago!" said the soldier, +laughing for some reason and shaking himself free. + +Having left that soldier who was evidently drunk, Rostov stopped the +horse of a batman or groom of some important personage and began to +question him. The man announced that the Tsar had been driven in a +carriage at full speed about an hour before along that very road and +that he was dangerously wounded. + +"It can't be!" said Rostov. "It must have been someone else." + +"I saw him myself." replied the man with a self-confident smile of +derision. "I ought to know the Emperor by now, after the times I've +seen him in Petersburg. I saw him just as I see you.... There he sat +in the carriage as pale as anything. How they made the four black +horses fly! Gracious me, they did rattle past! It's time I knew the +Imperial horses and Ilya Ivanych. I don't think Ilya drives anyone +except the Tsar!" + +Rostov let go of the horse and was about to ride on, when a +wounded officer passing by addressed him: + +"Who is it you want?" he asked. "The commander in chief? He was +killed by a cannon ball- struck in the breast before our regiment." + +"Not killed- wounded!" another officer corrected him. + +"Who? Kutuzov?" asked Rostov. + +"Not Kutuzov, but what's his name- well, never mind... there are not +many left alive. Go that way, to that village, all the commanders +are there," said the officer, pointing to the village of Hosjeradek, +and he walked on. + +Rostov rode on at a footpace not knowing why or to whom he was now +going. The Emperor was wounded, the battle lost. It was impossible +to doubt it now. Rostov rode in the direction pointed out to him, in +which he saw turrets and a church. What need to hurry? What was he now +to say to the Tsar or to Kutuzov, even if they were alive and +unwounded? + +"Take this road, your honor, that way you will be killed at once!" a +soldier shouted to him. "They'd kill you there!" + +"Oh, what are you talking about?" said another. "Where is he to +go? That way is nearer." + +Rostov considered, and then went in the direction where they said he +would be killed. + +"It's all the same now. If the Emperor is wounded, am I to try to +save myself?" he thought. He rode on to the region where the +greatest number of men had perished in fleeing from Pratzen. The +French had not yet occupied that region, and the Russians- the +uninjured and slightly wounded- had left it long ago. All about the +field, like heaps of manure on well-kept plowland, lay from ten to +fifteen dead and wounded to each couple of acres. The wounded crept +together in twos and threes and one could hear their distressing +screams and groans, sometimes feigned- or so it seemed to Rostov. He +put his horse to a trot to avoid seeing all these suffering men, and +he felt afraid- afraid not for his life, but for the courage he needed +and which he knew would not stand the sight of these unfortunates. + +The French, who had ceased firing at this field strewn with dead and +wounded where there was no one left to fire at, on seeing an +adjutant riding over it trained a gun on him and fired several +shots. The sensation of those terrible whistling sounds and of the +corpses around him merged in Rostov's mind into a single feeling of +terror and pity for himself. He remembered his mother's last letter. +"What would she feel," thought he, "if she saw me here now on this +field with the cannon aimed at me?" + +In the village of Hosjeradek there were Russian troops retiring from +the field of battle, who though still in some confusion were less +disordered. The French cannon did not reach there and the musketry +fire sounded far away. Here everyone clearly saw and said that the +battle was lost. No one whom Rostov asked could tell him where the +Emperor or Kutuzov was. Some said the report that the Emperor was +wounded was correct, others that it was not, and explained the false +rumor that had spread by the fact that the Emperor's carriage had +really galloped from the field of battle with the pale and terrified +Ober-Hofmarschal Count Tolstoy, who had ridden out to the +battlefield with others in the Emperor's suite. One officer told +Rostov that he had seen someone from headquarters behind the village +to the left, and thither Rostov rode, not hoping to find anyone but +merely to ease his conscience. When he had ridden about two miles +and had passed the last of the Russian troops, he saw, near a +kitchen garden with a ditch round it, two men on horseback facing +the ditch. One with a white plume in his hat seemed familiar to +Rostov; the other on a beautiful chestnut horse (which Rostov +fancied he had seen before) rode up to the ditch, struck his horse +with his spurs, and giving it the rein leaped lightly over. Only a +little earth crumbled from the bank under the horse's hind hoofs. +Turning the horse sharply, he again jumped the ditch, and +deferentially addressed the horseman with the white plumes, +evidently suggesting that he should do the same. The rider, whose +figure seemed familiar to Rostov and involuntarily riveted his +attention, made a gesture of refusal with his head and hand and by +that gesture Rostov instantly recognized his lamented and adored +monarch. + +"But it can't be he, alone in the midst of this empty field!" +thought Rostov. At that moment Alexander turned his head and Rostov +saw the beloved features that were so deeply engraved on his memory. +The Emperor was pale, his cheeks sunken and his eyes hollow, but the +charm, the mildness of his features, was all the greater. Rostov was +happy in the assurance that the rumors about the Emperor being wounded +were false. He was happy to be seeing him. He knew that he might and +even ought to go straight to him and give the message Dolgorukov had +ordered him to deliver. + +But as a youth in love trembles, is unnerved, and dares not utter +the thoughts he has dreamed of for nights, but looks around for help +or a chance of delay and flight when the longed-for moment comes and +he is alone with her, so Rostov, now that he had attained what he +had longed for more than anything else in the world, did not know +how to approach the Emperor, and a thousand reasons occurred to him +why it would be inconvenient, unseemly, and impossible to do so. + +"What! It is as if I were glad of a chance to take advantage of +his being alone and despondent! A strange face may seem unpleasant +or painful to him at this moment of sorrow; besides, what can I say to +him now, when my heart fails me and my mouth feels dry at the mere +sight of him?" Not one of the innumerable speeches addressed to the +Emperor that he had composed in his imagination could he now recall. +Those speeches were intended for quite other conditions, they were for +the most part to be spoken at a moment of victory and triumph, +generally when he was dying of wounds and the sovereign had thanked +him for heroic deeds, and while dying he expressed the love his +actions had proved. + +"Besides how can I ask the Emperor for his instructions for the +right flank now that it is nearly four o'clock and the battle is lost? +No, certainly I must not approach him, I must not intrude on his +reflections. Better die a thousand times than risk receiving an unkind +look or bad opinion from him," Rostov decided; and sorrowfully and +with a heart full despair he rode away, continually looking back at +the Tsar, who still remained in the same attitude of indecision. + +While Rostov was thus arguing with himself and riding sadly away, +Captain von Toll chanced to ride to the same spot, and seeing the +Emperor at once rode up to him, offered his services, and assisted him +to cross the ditch on foot. The Emperor, wishing to rest and feeling +unwell, sat down under an apple tree and von Toll remained beside him. +Rostov from a distance saw with envy and remorse how von Toll spoke +long and warmly to the Emperor and how the Emperor, evidently weeping, +covered his eyes with his hand and pressed von Toll's hand. + +"And I might have been in his place!" thought Rostov, and hardly +restraining his tears of pity for the Emperor, he rode on in utter +despair, not knowing where to or why he was now riding. + +His despair was all the greater from feeling that his own weakness +was the cause his grief. + +He might... not only might but should, have gone up to the +sovereign. It was a unique chance to show his devotion to the +Emperor and he had not made use of it.... "What have I done?" +thought he. And he turned round and galloped back to the place where +he had seen the Emperor, but there was no one beyond the ditch now. +Only some carts and carriages were passing by. From one of the drivers +he learned that Kutuzov's staff were not far off, in the village the +vehicles were going to. Rostov followed them. In front of him walked +Kutuzov's groom leading horses in horsecloths. Then came a cart, and +behind that walked an old, bandy-legged domestic serf in a peaked +cap and sheepskin coat. + +"Tit! I say, Tit!" said the groom. + +"What?" answered the old man absent-mindedly. + +"Go, Tit! Thresh a bit!" + +"Oh, you fool!" said the old man, spitting angrily. Some time passed +in silence, and then the same joke was repeated. + +Before five in the evening the battle had been lost at all points. +More than a hundred cannon were already in the hands of the French. + +Przebyszewski and his corps had laid down their arms. Other +columns after losing half their men were retreating in disorderly +confused masses. + +The remains of Langeron's and Dokhturov's mingled forces were +crowding around the dams and banks of the ponds near the village of +Augesd. + +After five o'clock it was only at the Augesd Dam that a hot +cannonade (delivered by the French alone) was still to be heard from +numerous batteries ranged on the slopes of the Pratzen Heights, +directed at our retreating forces. + +In the rearguard, Dokhturov and others rallying some battalions kept +up a musketry fire at the French cavalry that was pursuing our troops. +It was growing dusk. On the narrow Augesd Dam where for so many +years the old miller had been accustomed to sit in his tasseled cap +peacefully angling, while his grandson, with shirt sleeves rolled +up, handled the floundering silvery fish in the watering can, on +that dam over which for so many years Moravians in shaggy caps and +blue jackets had peacefully driven their two-horse carts loaded with +wheat and had returned dusty with flour whitening their carts- on that +narrow dam amid the wagons and the cannon, under the horses' hoofs and +between the wagon wheels, men disfigured by fear of death now +crowded together, crushing one another, dying, stepping over the dying +and killing one another, only to move on a few steps and be killed +themselves in the same way. + +Every ten seconds a cannon ball flew compressing the air around, +or a shell burst in the midst of that dense throng, killing some and +splashing with blood those near them. + +Dolokhov- now an officer- wounded in the arm, and on foot, with +the regimental commander on horseback and some ten men of his company, +represented all that was left of that whole regiment. Impelled by +the crowd, they had got wedged in at the approach to the dam and, +jammed in on all sides, had stopped because a horse in front had +fallen under a cannon and the crowd were dragging it out. A cannon +ball killed someone behind them, another fell in front and splashed +Dolokhov with blood. The crowd, pushing forward desperately, +squeezed together, moved a few steps, and again stopped. + +"Move on a hundred yards and we are certainly saved, remain here +another two minutes and it is certain death," thought each one. + +Dolokhov who was in the midst of the crowd forced his way to the +edge of the dam, throwing two soldiers off their feet, and ran onto +the slippery ice that covered the millpool. + +"Turn this way!" he shouted, jumping over the ice which creaked +under him; "turn this way!" he shouted to those with the gun. "It +bears!..." + +The ice bore him but it swayed and creaked, and it was plain that it +would give way not only under a cannon or a crowd, but very soon +even under his weight alone. The men looked at him and pressed to +the bank, hesitating to step onto the ice. The general on horseback at +the entrance to the dam raised his hand and opened his mouth to +address Dolokhov. Suddenly a cannon ball hissed so low above the crowd +that everyone ducked. It flopped into something moist, and the general +fell from his horse in a pool of blood. Nobody gave him a look or +thought of raising him. + +"Get onto the ice, over the ice! Go on! Turn! Don't you hear? Go +on!" innumerable voices suddenly shouted after the ball had struck the +general, the men themselves not knowing what, or why, they were +shouting. + +One of the hindmost guns that was going onto the dam turned off onto +the ice. Crowds of soldiers from the dam began running onto the frozen +pond. The ice gave way under one of the foremost soldiers, and one leg +slipped into the water. He tried to right himself but fell in up to +his waist. The nearest soldiers shrank back, the gun driver stopped +his horse, but from behind still came the shouts: "Onto the ice, why +do you stop? Go on! Go on!" And cries of horror were heard in the +crowd. The soldiers near the gun waved their arms and beat the +horses to make them turn and move on. The horses moved off the bank. +The ice, that had held under those on foot, collapsed in a great mass, +and some forty men who were on it dashed, some forward and some +back, drowning one another. + +Still the cannon balls continued regularly to whistle and flop +onto the ice and into the water and oftenest of all among the crowd +that covered the dam, the pond, and the bank. + +CHAPTER XIX + +On the Pratzen Heights, where he had fallen with the flagstaff in +his hand, lay Prince Andrew Bolkonski bleeding profusely and +unconsciously uttering a gentle, piteous, and childlike moan. + +Toward evening he ceased moaning and became quite still. He did +not know how long his unconsciousness lasted. Suddenly he again felt +that he was alive and suffering from a burning, lacerating pain in his +head. + +"Where is it, that lofty sky that I did not know till now, but saw +today?" was his first thought. "And I did not know this suffering +either," he thought. "Yes, I did not know anything, anything at all +till now. But where am I?" + +He listened and heard the sound of approaching horses, and voices +speaking French. He opened his eyes. Above him again was the same +lofty sky with clouds that had risen and were floating still higher, +and between them gleamed blue infinity. He did not turn his head and +did not see those who, judging by the sound of hoofs and voices, had +ridden up and stopped near him. + +It was Napoleon accompanied by two aides-de-camp. Bonaparte riding +over the battlefield had given final orders to strengthen the +batteries firing at the Augesd Dam and was looking at the killed and +wounded left on the field. + +"Fine men!" remarked Napoleon, looking at a dead Russian +grenadier, who, with his face buried in the ground and a blackened +nape, lay on his stomach with an already stiffened arm flung wide. + +"The ammunition for the guns in position is exhausted, Your +Majesty," said an adjutant who had come from the batteries that were +firing at Augesd. + +"Have some brought from the reserve," said Napoleon, and having gone +on a few steps he stopped before Prince Andrew, who lay on his back +with the flagstaff that had been dropped beside him. (The flag had +already been taken by the French as a trophy.) + +"That's a fine death!" said Napoleon as he gazed at Bolkonski. + +Prince Andrew understood that this was said of him and that it was +Napoleon who said it. He heard the speaker addressed as Sire. But he +heard the words as he might have heard the buzzing of a fly. Not +only did they not interest him, but he took no notice of them and at +once forgot them. His head was burning, he felt himself bleeding to +death, and he saw above him the remote, lofty, and everlasting sky. He +knew it was Napoleon- his hero- but at that moment Napoleon seemed +to him such a small, insignificant creature compared with what was +passing now between himself and that lofty infinite sky with the +clouds flying over it. At that moment it meant nothing to him who +might be standing over him, or what was said of him; he was only +glad that people were standing near him and only wished that they +would help him and bring him back to life, which seemed to him so +beautiful now that he had today learned to understand it so +differently. He collected all his strength, to stir and utter a sound. +He feebly moved his leg and uttered a weak, sickly groan which aroused +his own pity. + +"Ah! He is alive," said Napoleon. "Lift this young man up and +carry him to the dressing station." + +Having said this, Napoleon rode on to meet Marshal Lannes, who, +hat in hand, rode up smiling to the Emperor to congratulate him on the +victory. + +Prince Andrew remembered nothing more: he lost consciousness from +the terrible pain of being lifted onto the stretcher, the jolting +while being moved, and the probing of his wound at the dressing +station. He did not regain consciousness till late in the day, when +with other wounded and captured Russian officers he was carried to the +hospital. During this transfer he felt a little stronger and was +able to look about him and even speak. + +The first words he heard on coming to his senses were those of a +French convoy officer, who said rapidly: "We must halt here: the +Emperor will pass here immediately; it will please him to see these +gentlemen prisoners." + +"There are so many prisoners today, nearly the whole Russian army, +that he is probably tired of them," said another officer. + +"All the same! They say this one is the commander of all the Emperor +Alexander's Guards," said the first one, indicating a Russian +officer in the white uniform of the Horse Guards. + +Bolkonski recognized Prince Repnin whom he had met in Petersburg +society. Beside him stood a lad of nineteen, also a wounded officer of +the Horse Guards. + +Bonaparte, having come up at a gallop, stopped his horse. + +"Which is the senior?" he asked, on seeing the prisoners. + +They named the colonel, Prince Repnin. + +"You are the commander of the Emperor Alexander's regiment of +Horse Guards?" asked Napoleon. + +"I commanded a squadron," replied Repnin. + +"Your regiment fulfilled its duty honorably," said Napoleon. + +"The praise of a great commander is a soldier's highest reward," +said Repnin. + +"I bestow it with pleasure," said Napoleon. "And who is that young +man beside you?" + +Prince Repnin named Lieutenant Sukhtelen. + +After looking at him Napoleon smiled. + +"He's very young to come to meddle with us." + +"Youth is no hindrance to courage," muttered Sukhtelen in a +failing voice. + +"A splendid reply!" said Napoleon. "Young man, you will go far!" + +Prince Andrew, who had also been brought forward before the +Emperor's eyes to complete the show of prisoners, could not fail to +attract his attention. Napoleon apparently remembered seeing him on +the battlefield and, addressing him, again used the epithet "young +man" that was connected in his memory with Prince Andrew. + +"Well, and you, young man," said he. "How do you feel, mon brave?" + +Though five minutes before, Prince Andrew had been able to say a few +words to the soldiers who were carrying him, now with his eyes fixed +straight on Napoleon, he was silent.... So insignificant at that +moment seemed to him all the interests that engrossed Napoleon, so +mean did his hero himself with his paltry vanity and joy in victory +appear, compared to the lofty, equitable, and kindly sky which he +had seen and understood, that he could not answer him. + +Everything seemed so futile and insignificant in comparison with the +stern and solemn train of thought that weakness from loss of blood, +suffering, and the nearness of death aroused in him. Looking into +Napoleon's eyes Prince Andrew thought of the insignificance of +greatness, the unimportance of life which no one could understand, and +the still greater unimportance of death, the meaning of which no one +alive could understand or explain. + +The Emperor without waiting for an answer turned away and said to +one of the officers as he went: "Have these gentlemen attended to +and taken to my bivouac; let my doctor, Larrey, examine their +wounds. Au revoir, Prince Repnin!" and he spurred his horse and +galloped away. + +His face shone with self-satisfaction and pleasure. + +The soldiers who had carried Prince Andrew had noticed and taken the +little gold icon Princess Mary had hung round her brother's neck, +but seeing the favor the Emperor showed the prisoners, they now +hastened to return the holy image. + +Prince Andrew did not see how and by whom it was replaced, but the +little icon with its thin gold chain suddenly appeared upon his +chest outside his uniform. + +"It would be good," thought Prince Andrew, glancing at the icon +his sister had hung round his neck with such emotion and reverence, +"it would be good if everything were as clear and simple as it seems +to Mary. How good it would be to know where to seek for help in this +life, and what to expect after it beyond the grave! How happy and calm +I should be if I could now say: 'Lord, have mercy on me!'... But to +whom should I say that? Either to a Power indefinable, +incomprehensible, which I not only cannot address but which I cannot +even express in words- the Great All or Nothing-" said he to +himself, "or to that God who has been sewn into this amulet by Mary! +There is nothing certain, nothing at all except the unimportance of +everything I understand, and the greatness of something +incomprehensible but all-important. + +The stretchers moved on. At every jolt he again felt unendurable +pain; his feverishness increased and he grew delirious. Visions of his +father, wife, sister, and future son, and the tenderness he had felt +the night before the battle, the figure of the insignificant little +Napoleon, and above all this the lofty sky, formed the chief +subjects of his delirious fancies. + +The quiet home life and peaceful happiness of Bald Hills presented +itself to him. He was already enjoying that happiness when that little +Napoleon had suddenly appeared with his unsympathizing look of +shortsighted delight at the misery of others, and doubts and +torments had followed, and only the heavens promised peace. Toward +morning all these dreams melted and merged into the chaos and darkness +of unconciousness and oblivion which in the opinion of Napoleon's +doctor, Larrey, was much more likely to end in death than in +convalescence. + +"He is a nervous, bilious subject," said Larrey, "and will not +recover." + +And Prince Andrew, with others fatally wounded, was left to the care +of the inhabitants of the district. + +BOOK FOUR: 1806 + +CHAPTER I + +Early in the year 1806 Nicholas Rostov returned home on leave. +Denisov was going home to Voronezh and Rostov persuaded him to +travel with him as far as Moscow and to stay with him there. Meeting a +comrade at the last post station but one before Moscow, Denisov had +drunk three bottles of wine with him and, despite the jolting ruts +across the snow-covered road, did not once wake up on the way to +Moscow, but lay at the bottom of the sleigh beside Rostov, who grew +more and more impatient the nearer they got to Moscow. + +"How much longer? How much longer? Oh, these insufferable streets, +shops, bakers' signboards, street lamps, and sleighs!" thought Rostov, +when their leave permits had been passed at the town gate and they had +entered Moscow. + +"Denisov! We're here! He's asleep," he added, leaning forward with +his whole body as if in that position he hoped to hasten the speed +of the sleigh. + +Denisov gave no answer. + +"There's the corner at the crossroads, where the cabman, Zakhar, has +his stand, and there's Zakhar himself and still the same horse! And +here's the little shop where we used to buy gingerbread! Can't you +hurry up? Now then!" + +"Which house is it?" asked the driver. + +"Why, that one, right at the end, the big one. Don't you see? That's +our house," said Rostov. "Of course, it's our house! Denisov, Denisov! +We're almost there!" + +Denisov raised his head, coughed, and made no answer. + +"Dmitri," said Rostov to his valet on the box, "those lights are +in our house, aren't they?" + +"Yes, sir, and there's a light in your father's study." + +"Then they've not gone to bed yet? What do you think? Mind now, +don't forget to put out my new coat," added Rostov, fingering his +new mustache. "Now then, get on," he shouted to the driver. "Do wake +up, Vaska!" he went on, turning to Denisov, whose head was again +nodding. "Come, get on! You shall have three rubles for vodka- get +on!" Rostov shouted, when the sleigh was only three houses from his +door. It seemed to him the horses were not moving at all. At last +the sleigh bore to the right, drew up at an entrance, and Rostov saw +overhead the old familiar cornice with a bit of plaster broken off, +the porch, and the post by the side of the pavement. He sprang out +before the sleigh stopped, and ran into the hall. The house stood cold +and silent, as if quite regardless of who had come to it. There was no +one in the hall. "Oh God! Is everyone all right?" he thought, stopping +for a moment with a sinking heart, and then immediately starting to +run along the hall and up the warped steps of the familiar +staircase. The well-known old door handle, which always angered the +countess when it was not properly cleaned, turned as loosely as +ever. A solitary tallow candle burned in the anteroom. + +Old Michael was asleep on the chest. Prokofy, the footman, who was +so strong that he could lift the back of the carriage from behind, sat +plaiting slippers out of cloth selvedges. He looked up at the +opening door and his expression of sleepy indifference suddenly +changed to one of delighted amazement. + +"Gracious heavens! The young count!" he cried, recognizing his young +master. "Can it be? My treasure!" and Prokofy, trembling with +excitement, rushed toward the drawing-room door, probably in order +to announce him, but, changing his mind, came back and stooped to kiss +the young man's shoulder. + +"All well?" asked Rostov, drawing away his arm. + +"Yes, God be thanked! Yes! They've just finished supper. Let me have +a look at you, your excellency." + +"Is everything quite all right?" + +"The Lord be thanked, yes!" + +Rostov, who had completely forgotten Denisov, not wishing anyone +to forestall him, threw off his fur coat and ran on tiptoe through the +large dark ballroom. All was the same: there were the same old card +tables and the same chandelier with a cover over it; but someone had +already seen the young master, and, before he had reached the +drawing room, something flew out from a side door like a tornado and +began hugging and kissing him. Another and yet another creature of the +same kind sprang from a second door and a third; more hugging, more +kissing, more outcries, and tears of joy. He could not distinguish +which was Papa, which Natasha, and which Petya. Everyone shouted, +talked, and kissed him at the same time. Only his mother was not +there, he noticed that. + +"And I did not know... Nicholas... My darling!..." + +"Here he is... our own... Kolya,~^ dear fellow... How he has +changed!... Where are the candles?... Tea!..." + +^~ Nicholas. + +"And me, kiss me!" + +"Dearest... and me!" + +Sonya, Natasha, Petya, Anna Mikhaylovna, Vera, and the old count +were all hugging him, and the serfs, men and maids, flocked into the +room, exclaiming and oh-ing and ah-ing. + +Petya, clinging to his legs, kept shouting, "And me too!" + +Natasha, after she had pulled him down toward her and covered his +face with kisses, holding him tight by the skirt of his coat, sprang +away and pranced up and down in one place like a goat and shrieked +piercingly. + +All around were loving eyes glistening with tears of joy, and all +around were lips seeking a kiss. + +Sonya too, all rosy red, clung to his arm and, radiant with bliss, +looked eagerly toward his eyes, waiting for the look for which she +longed. Sonya now was sixteen and she was very pretty, especially at +this moment of happy, rapturous excitement. She gazed at him, not +taking her eyes off him, and smiling and holding her breath. He gave +her a grateful look, but was still expectant and looking for +someone. The old countess had not yet come. But now steps were heard +at the door, steps so rapid that they could hardly be his mother's. + +Yet it was she, dressed in a new gown which he did not know, made +since he had left. All the others let him go, and he ran to her. +When they met, she fell on his breast, sobbing. She could not lift her +face, but only pressed it to the cold braiding of his hussar's jacket. +Denisov, who had come into the room unnoticed by anyone, stood there +and wiped his eyes at the sight. + +"Vasili Denisov, your son's friend," he said, introducing himself to +the count, who was looking inquiringly at him. + +"You are most welcome! I know, I know," said the count, kissing +and embracing Denisov. "Nicholas wrote us... Natasha, Vera, look! Here +is Denisov!" + +The same happy, rapturous faces turned to the shaggy figure of +Denisov. + +"Darling Denisov!" screamed Natasha, beside herself with rapture, +springing to him, putting her arms round him, and kissing him. This +escapade made everybody feel confused. Denisov blushed too, but smiled +and, taking Natasha's hand, kissed it. + +Denisov was shown to the room prepared for him, and the Rostovs +all gathered round Nicholas in the sitting room. + +The old countess, not letting go of his hand and kissing it every +moment, sat beside him: the rest, crowding round him, watched every +movement, word, or look of his, never taking their blissfully +adoring eyes off him. His brother and sisters struggled for the places +nearest to him and disputed with one another who should bring him +his tea, handkerchief, and pipe. + +Rostov was very happy in the love they showed him; but the first +moment of meeting had been so beatific that his present joy seemed +insufficient, and he kept expecting something more, more and yet more. + +Next morning, after the fatigues of their journey, the travelers +slept till ten o'clock. + +In the room next their bedroom there was a confusion of sabers, +satchels, sabretaches, open portmanteaus, and dirty boots. Two freshly +cleaned pairs with spurs had just been placed by the wall. The +servants were bringing in jugs and basins, hot water for shaving, +and their well-brushed clothes. There was a masculine odor and a smell +of tobacco. + +"Hallo, Gwiska- my pipe!" came Vasili Denisov's husky voice. +"Wostov, get up!" + +Rostov, rubbing his eyes that seemed glued together, raised his +disheveled head from the hot pillow. + +"Why, is it late?" + +"Late! It's nearly ten o'clock," answered Natasha's voice. A +rustle of starched petticoats and the whispering and laughter of +girls' voices came from the adjoining room. The door was opened a +crack and there was a glimpse of something blue, of ribbons, black +hair, and merry faces. It was Natasha, Sonya, and Petya, who had +come to see whether they were getting up. + +"Nicholas! Get up!" Natasha's voice was again heard at the door. + +"Directly!" + +Meanwhile, Petya, having found and seized the sabers in the outer +room, with the delight boys feel at the sight of a military elder +brother, and forgetting that it was unbecoming for the girls to see +men undressed, opened the bedroom door. + +"Is this your saber?" he shouted. + +The girls sprang aside. Denisov hid his hairy legs under the +blanket, looking with a scared face at his comrade for help. The door, +having let Petya in, closed again. A sound of laughter came from +behind it. + +"Nicholas! Come out in your dressing gown!" said Natasha's voice. + +"Is this your saber?" asked Petya. "Or is it yours?" he said, +addressing the black-mustached Denisov with servile deference. + +Rostov hurriedly put something on his feet, drew on his dressing +gown, and went out. Natasha had put on one spurred boot and was just +getting her foot into the other. Sonya, when he came in, was +twirling round and was about to expand her dresses into a balloon +and sit down. They were dressed alike, in new pale-blue frocks, and +were both fresh, rosy, and bright. Sonya ran away, but Natasha, taking +her brother's arm, led him into the sitting room, where they began +talking. They hardly gave one another time to ask questions and give +replies concerning a thousand little matters which could not +interest anyone but themselves. Natasha laughed at every word he +said or that she said herself, not because what they were saying was +amusing, but because she felt happy and was unable to control her +joy which expressed itself by laughter. + +"Oh, how nice, how splendid!" she said to everything. + +Rostov felt that, under the influence of the warm rays of love, that +childlike smile which had not once appeared on his face since he +left home now for the first time after eighteen months again +brightened his soul and his face. + +"No, but listen," she said, "now you are quite a man, aren't you? +I'm awfully glad you're my brother." She touched his mustache. "I want +to know what you men are like. Are you the same as we? No?" + +"Why did Sonya run away?" asked Rostov. + +"Ah, yes! That's a whole long story! How are you going to speak to +her- thou or you?" + +"As may happen," said Rostov. + +"No, call her you, please! I'll tell you all about it some other +time. No, I'll tell you now. You know Sonya's my dearest friend. +Such a friend that I burned my arm for her sake. Look here!" + +She pulled up her muslin sleeve and showed him a red scar on her +long, slender, delicate arm, high above the elbow on that part that is +covered even by a ball dress. + +"I burned this to prove my love for her. I just heated a ruler in +the fire and pressed it there!" + +Sitting on the sofa with the little cushions on its arms, in what +used to be his old schoolroom, and looking into Natasha's wildly +bright eyes, Rostov re-entered that world of home and childhood +which had no meaning for anyone else, but gave him some of the best +joys of his life; and the burning of an arm with a ruler as a proof of +love did not seem to him senseless, he understood and was not +surprised at it. + +"Well, and is that all?" he asked. + +"We are such friends, such friends! All that ruler business was just +nonsense, but we are friends forever. She, if she loves anyone, does +it for life, but I don't understand that, I forget quickly." + +"Well, what then?" + +"Well, she loves me and you like that." + +Natasha suddenly flushed. + +"Why, you remember before you went away?... Well, she says you are +to forget all that.... She says: 'I shall love him always, but let him +be free.' Isn't that lovely and noble! Yes, very noble? Isn't it?" +asked Natasha, so seriously and excitedly that it was evident that +what she was now saying she had talked of before, with tears. + +Rostov became thoughtful. + +"I never go back on my word," he said. "Besides, Sonya is so +charming that only a fool would renounce such happiness." + +"No, no!" cried Natasha, "she and I have already talked it over. +We knew you'd say so. But it won't do, because you see, if you say +that- if you consider yourself bound by your promise- it will seem +as if she had not meant it seriously. It makes it as if you were +marrying her because you must, and that wouldn't do at all." + +Rostov saw that it had been well considered by them. Sonya had +already struck him by her beauty on the preceding day. Today, when +he had caught a glimpse of her, she seemed still more lovely. She +was a charming girl of sixteen, evidently passionately in love with +him (he did not doubt that for an instant). Why should he not love her +now, and even marry her, Rostov thought, but just now there were so +many other pleasures and interests before him! "Yes, they have taken a +wise decision," he thought, "I must remain free." + +"Well then, that's excellent," said he. "We'll talk it over later +on. Oh, how glad I am to have you! + +"Well, and are you still true to Boris?" he continued. + +"Oh, what nonsense!" cried Natasha, laughing. "I don't think about +him or anyone else, and I don't want anything of the kind." + +"Dear me! Then what are you up now?" + +"Now?" repeated Natasha, and a happy smile lit up her face. "Have +you seen Duport?" + +"No." + +"Not seen Duport- the famous dancer? Well then, you won't +understand. That's what I'm up to." + +Curving her arms, Natasha held out her skirts as dancers do, ran +back a few steps, turned, cut a caper, brought her little feet sharply +together, and made some steps on the very tips of her toes. + +"See, I'm standing! See!" she said, but could not maintain herself +on her toes any longer. "So that's what I'm up to! I'll never marry +anyone, but will be a dancer. Only don't tell anyone." + +Rostov laughed so loud and merrily that Denisov, in his bedroom, +felt envious and Natasha could not help joining in. + +"No, but don't you think it's nice?" she kept repeating. + +"Nice! And so you no longer wish to marry Boris?" + +Natasha flared up. "I don't want to marry anyone. And I'll tell +him so when I see him!" + +"Dear me!" said Rostov. + +"But that's all rubbish," Natasha chattered on. "And is Denisov +nice?" she asked. + +"Yes, indeed!" + +"Oh, well then, good-by: go and dress. Is he very terrible, +Denisov?" + +"Why terrible?" asked Nicholas. "No, Vaska is a splendid fellow." + +"You call him Vaska? That's funny! And is he very nice?" + +"Very." + +"Well then, be quick. We'll all have breakfast together." + +And Natasha rose and went out of the room on tiptoe, like a ballet +dancer, but smiling as only happy girls of fifteen can smile. When +Rostov met Sonya in the drawing room, he reddened. He did not know how +to behave with her. The evening before, in the first happy moment of +meeting, they had kissed each other, but today they felt it could +not be done; he felt that everybody, including his mother and sisters, +was looking inquiringly at him and watching to see how he would behave +with her. He kissed her hand and addressed her not as thou but as you- +Sonya. But their eyes met and said thou, and exchanged tender +kisses. Her looks asked him to forgive her for having dared, by +Natasha's intermediacy, to remind him of his promise, and then thanked +him for his love. His looks thanked her for offering him his freedom +and told her that one way or another he would never cease to love her, +for that would be impossible. + +"How strange it is," said Vera, selecting a moment when all were +silent, "that Sonya and Nicholas now say you to one another and meet +like strangers." + +Vera's remark was correct, as her remarks always were, but, like +most of her observations, it made everyone feel uncomfortable, not +only Sonya, Nicholas, and Natasha, but even the old countess, who- +dreading this love affair which might hinder Nicholas from making a +brilliant match- blushed like a girl. + +Denisov, to Rostov's surprise, appeared in the drawing room with +pomaded hair, perfumed, and in a new uniform, looking just as smart as +he made himself when going into battle, and he was more amiable to the +ladies and gentlemen than Rostov had ever expected to see him. + +CHAPTER II + +On his return to Moscow from the army, Nicholas Rostov was +welcomed by his home circle as the best of sons, a hero, and their +darling Nikolenka; by his relations as a charming, attractive, and +polite young man; by his acquaintances as a handsome lieutenant of +hussars, a good dancer, and one of the best matches in the city. + +The Rostovs knew everybody in Moscow. The old count had money enough +that year, as all his estates had been remortgaged, and so Nicholas, +acquiring a trotter of his own, very stylish riding breeches of the +latest cut, such as no one else yet had in Moscow, and boots of the +latest fashion, with extremely pointed toes and small silver spurs, +passed his time very gaily. After a short period of adapting himself +to the old conditions of life, Nicholas found it very pleasant to be +at home again. He felt that he had grown up and matured very much. His +despair at failing in a Scripture examination, his borrowing money +from Gavril to pay a sleigh driver, his kissing Sonya on the sly- he +now recalled all this as childishness he had left immeasurably behind. +Now he was a lieutenant of hussars, in a jacket laced with silver, and +wearing the Cross of St. George, awarded to soldiers for bravery in +action, and in the company of well-known, elderly, and respected +racing men was training a trotter of his own for a race. He knew a +lady on one of the boulevards whom he visited of an evening. He led +the mazurka at the Arkharovs' ball, talked about the war with Field +Marshal Kamenski, visited the English Club, and was on intimate +terms with a colonel of forty to whom Denisov had introduced + +His passion for the Emperor had cooled somewhat in Moscow. But +still, as he did not see him and had no opportunity of seeing him, +he often spoke about him and about his love for him, letting it be +understood that he had not told all and that there was something in +his feelings for the Emperor not everyone could understand, and with +his whole soul he shared the adoration then common in Moscow for the +Emperor, who was spoken of as the "angel incarnate." + +During Rostov's short stay in Moscow, before rejoining the army, +he did not draw closer to Sonya, but rather drifted away from her. She +was very pretty and sweet, and evidently deeply in love with him, +but he was at the period of youth when there seems so much to do +that there is no time for that sort of thing and a young man fears +to bind himself and prizes his freedom which he needs for so many +other things. When he thought of Sonya, during this stay in Moscow, he +said to himself, "Ah, there will be, and there are, many more such +girls somewhere whom I do not yet know. There will be time enough to +think about love when I want to, but now I have no time." Besides, +it seemed to him that the society of women was rather derogatory to +his manhood. He went to balls and into ladies' society with an +affectation of doing so against his will. The races, the English Club, +sprees with Denisov, and visits to a certain house- that was another +matter and quite the thing for a dashing young hussar! + +At the beginning of March, old Count Ilya Rostov was very busy +arranging a dinner in honor of Prince Bagration at the English Club. + +The count walked up and down the hall in his dressing gown, giving +orders to the club steward and to the famous Feoktist, the Club's head +cook, about asparagus, fresh cucumbers, strawberries, veal, and fish +for this dinner. The count had been a member and on the committee of +the Club from the day it was founded. To him the Club entrusted the +arrangement of the festival in honor of Bagration, for few men knew so +well how to arrange a feast on an open-handed, hospitable scale, and +still fewer men would be so well able and willing to make up out of +their own resources what might be needed for the success of the +fete. The club cook and the steward listened to the count's orders +with pleased faces, for they knew that under no other management could +they so easily extract a good profit for themselves from a dinner +costing several thousand rubles. + +"Well then, mind and have cocks' comb in the turtle soup, you know!" + +"Shall we have three cold dishes then?" asked the cook. + +The count considered. + +"We can't have less- yes, three... the mayonnaise, that's one," said +he, bending down a finger. + +"Then am I to order those large sterlets?" asked the steward. + +"Yes, it can't be helped if they won't take less. Ah, dear me! I was +forgetting. We must have another entree. Ah, goodness gracious!" he +clutched at his head. "Who is going to get me the flowers? Dmitri! Eh, +Dmitri! Gallop off to our Moscow estate," he said to the factotum +who appeared at his call. "Hurry off and tell Maksim, the gardener, to +set the serfs to work. Say that everything out of the hothouses must +be brought here well wrapped up in felt. I must have two hundred +pots here on Friday." + +Having given several more orders, he was about to go to his +"little countess" to have a rest, but remembering something else of +importance, he returned again, called back the cook and the club +steward, and again began giving orders. A light footstep and the +clinking of spurs were heard at the door, and the young count, +handsome, rosy, with a dark little mustache, evidently rested and made +sleeker by his easy life in Moscow, entered the room. + +"Ah, my boy, my head's in a whirl!" said the old man with a smile, +as if he felt a little confused before his son. "Now, if you would +only help a bit! I must have singers too. I shall have my own +orchestra, but shouldn't we get the gypsy singers as well? You +military men like that sort of thing." + +"Really, Papa, I believe Prince Bagration worried himself less +before the battle of Schon Grabern than you do now," said his son with +a smile. + +The old count pretended to be angry. + +"Yes, you talk, but try it yourself!" + +And the count turned to the cook, who, with a shrewd and +respectful expression, looked observantly and sympathetically at the +father and son. + +"What have the young people come to nowadays, eh, Feoktist?" said +he. "Laughing at us old fellows!" + +"That's so, your excellency, all they have to do is to eat a good +dinner, but providing it and serving it all up, that's not their +business! + +"That's it, that's it!" exclaimed the count, and gaily seizing his +son by both hands, he cried, "Now I've got you, so take the sleigh and +pair at once, and go to Bezukhob's, and tell him 'Count Ilya has +sent you to ask for strawberries and fresh pineapples.' We can't get +them from anyone else. He's not there himself, so you'll have to go in +and ask the princesses; and from there go on to the Rasgulyay- the +coachman Ipatka knows- and look up the gypsy Ilyushka, the one who +danced at Count Orlov's, you remember, in a white Cossack coat, and +bring him along to me." + +"And am I to bring the gypsy girls along with him?" asked +Nicholas, laughing. "Dear, dear!..." + +At that moment, with noiseless footsteps and with the +businesslike, preoccupied, yet meekly Christian look which never +left her face, Anna Mikhaylovna entered the hall. Though she came upon +the count in his dressing gown every day, he invariably became +confused and begged her to excuse his costume. + +"No matter at all, my dear count," she said, meekly closing her +eyes. "But I'll go to Bezukhov's myself. Pierre has arrived, and now +we shall get anything we want from his hothouses. I have to see him in +any case. He has forwarded me a letter from Boris. Thank God, Boris is +now on the staff." + +The count was delighted at Anna Mikhaylovna's taking upon herself +one of his commissions and ordered the small closed carriage for her. + +"Tell Bezukhov to come. I'll put his name down. Is his wife with +him?" he asked. + +Anna Mikhaylovna turned up her eyes, and profound sadness was +depicted on her face. + +"Ah, my dear friend, he is very unfortunate," she said. "If what +we hear is true, it is dreadful. How little we dreamed of such a thing +when we were rejoicing at his happiness! And such a lofty angelic soul +as young Bezukhov! Yes, I pity him from my heart, and shall try to +give him what consolation I can." + +"Wh-what is the matter?" asked both the young and old Rostov. + +Anna Mikhaylovna sighed deeply. + +"Dolokhov, Mary Ivanovna's son," she said in a mysterious whisper, +"has compromised her completely, they say. Pierre took him up, invited +him to his house in Petersburg, and now... she has come here and +that daredevil after her!" said Anna Mikhaylovna, wishing to show +her sympathy for Pierre, but by involuntary intonations and a half +smile betraying her sympathy for the "daredevil," as she called +Dolokhov. "They say Pierre is quite broken by his misfortune." + +"Dear, dear! But still tell him to come to the Club- it will all +blow over. It will be a tremendous banquet." + +Next day, the third of March, soon after one o'clock, two hundred +and fifty members of the English Club and fifty guests were awaiting +the guest of honor and hero of the Austrian campaign, Prince +Bagration, to dinner. + +On the first arrival of the news of the battle of Austerlitz, Moscow +had been bewildered. At that time, the Russians were so used to +victories that on receiving news of the defeat some would simply not +believe it, while others sought some extraordinary explanation of so +strange an event. In the English Club, where all who were +distinguished, important, and well informed forgathered when the +news began to arrive in December, nothing was said about the war and +the last battle, as though all were in a conspiracy of silence. The +men who set the tone in conversation- Count Rostopchin, Prince Yuri +Dolgorukov, Valuev, Count Markov, and Prince Vyazemski- did not show +themselves at the Club, but met in private houses in intimate circles, +and the Moscovites who took their opinions from others- Ilya Rostov +among them- remained for a while without any definite opinion on the +subject of the war and without leaders. The Moscovites felt that +something was wrong and that to discuss the bad news was difficult, +and so it was best to be silent. But after a while, just as a jury +comes out of its room, the bigwigs who guided the Club's opinion +reappeared, and everybody began speaking clearly and definitely. +Reasons were found for the incredible, unheard-of, and impossible +event of a Russian defeat, everything became clear, and in all corners +of Moscow the same things began to be said. These reasons were the +treachery of the Austrians, a defective commissariat, the treachery of +the Pole Przebyszewski and of the Frenchman Langeron, Kutuzov's +incapacity, and (it was whispered) the youth and inexperience of the +sovereign, who had trusted worthless and insignificant people. But the +army, the Russian army, everyone declared, was extraordinary and had +achieved miracles of valor.The soldiers, officers, and generals were +heroes. But the hero of heroes was Prince Bagration, distinguished +by his Schon Grabern affair and by the retreat from Austerlitz, +where he alone had withdrawn his column unbroken and had all day +beaten back an enemy force twice as numerous as his own. What also +conduced to Bagration's being selected as Moscow's hero was the fact +that he had no connections in the city and was a stranger there. In +his person, honor was shown to a simple fighting Russian soldier +without connections and intrigues, and to one who was associated by +memories of the Italian campaign with the name of Suvorov. Moreover, +paying such honor to Bagration was the best way of expressing +disapproval and dislike of Kutuzov. + +"Had there been no Bagration, it would have been necessary to invent +him," said the wit Shinshin, parodying the words of Voltaire. +Kutuzov no one spoke of, except some who abused him in whispers, +calling him a court weathercock and an old satyr. + +All Moscow repeated Prince Dolgorukov's saying: "If you go on +modeling and modeling you must get smeared with clay," suggesting +consolation for our defeat by the memory of former victories; and +the words of Rostopchin, that French soldiers have to be incited to +battle by highfalutin words, and Germans by logical arguments to +show them that it is more dangerous to run away than to advance, but +that Russian soldiers only need to be restrained and held back! On all +sides, new and fresh anecdotes were heard of individual examples of +heroism shown by our officers and men at Austerlitz. One had saved a +standard, another had killed five Frenchmen, a third had loaded five +cannon singlehanded. Berg was mentioned, by those who did not know +him, as having, when wounded in the right hand, taken his sword in the +left, and gone forward. Of Bolkonski, nothing was said, and only those +who knew him intimately regretted that he had died so young, leaving a +pregnant wife with his eccentric father. + +CHAPTER III + +On that third of March, all the rooms in the English Club were +filled with a hum of conversation, like the hum of bees swarming in +springtime. The members and guests of the Club wandered hither and +thither, sat, stood, met, and separated, some in uniform and some in +evening dress, and a few here and there with powdered hair and in +Russian kaftans. Powdered footmen, in livery with buckled shoes and +smart stockings, stood at every door anxiously noting visitors' +every movement in order to offer their services. Most of those present +were elderly, respected men with broad, self-confident faces, fat +fingers, and resolute gestures and voices. This class of guests and +members sat in certain habitual places and met in certain habitual +groups. A minority of those present were casual guests- chiefly +young men, among whom were Denisov, Rostov, and Dolokhov- who was +now again an officer in the Semenov regiment. The faces of these young +people, especially those who were militarymen, bore that expression of +condescending respect for their elders which seems to say to the older +generation, "We are prepared to respect and honor you, but all the +same remember that the future belongs to us." + +Nesvitski was there as an old member of the Club. Pierre, who at his +wife's command had let his hair grow and abandoned his spectacles, +went about the rooms fashionably dressed but looking sad and dull. +Here, as elsewhere, he was surrounded by an atmosphere of subservience +to his wealth, and being in the habit of lording it over these people, +he treated them with absent-minded contempt. + +By his age he should have belonged to the younger men, but by his +wealth and connections he belonged to the groups old and honored +guests, and so he went from one group to another. Some of the most +important old men were the center of groups which even strangers +approached respectfully to hear the voices of well-known men. The +largest circles formed round Count Rostopchin, Valuev, and +Naryshkin. Rostopchin was describing how the Russians had been +overwhelmed by flying Austrians and had had to force their way through +them with bayonets. + +Valuev was confidentially telling that Uvarov had been sent from +Petersburg to ascertain what Moscow was thinking about Austerlitz. + +In the third circle, Naryshkin was speaking of the meeting of the +Austrian Council of War at which Suvorov crowed like a cock in reply +to the nonsense talked by the Austrian generals. Shinshin, standing +close by, tried to make a joke, saying that Kutuzov had evidently +failed to learn from Suvorov even so simple a thing as the art of +crowing like a cock, but the elder members glanced severely at the +wit, making him feel that in that place and on that day, it was +improper to speak so of Kutuzov. + +Count Ilya Rostov, hurried and preoccupied, went about in his soft +boots between the dining and drawing rooms, hastily greeting the +important and unimportant, all of whom he knew, as if they were all +equals, while his eyes occasionally sought out his fine well-set-up +young son, resting on him and winking joyfully at him. Young Rostov +stood at a window with Dolokhov, whose acquaintance he had lately made +and highly valued. The old count came up to them and pressed +Dolokhov's hand. + +"Please come and visit us... you know my brave boy... been +together out there... both playing the hero... Ah, Vasili +Ignatovich... How d'ye do, old fellow?" he said, turning to an old man +who was passing, but before he had finished his greeting there was a +general stir, and a footman who had run in announced, with a +frightened face: "He's arrived!" + +Bells rang, the stewards rushed forward, and- like rye shaken +together in a shovel- the guests who had been scattered about in +different rooms came together and crowded in the large drawing room by +the door of the ballroom. + +Bagration appeared in the doorway of the anteroom without hat or +sword, which, in accord with the Club custom, he had given up to the +hall porter. He had no lambskin cap on his head, nor had he a loaded +whip over his shoulder, as when Rostov had seen him on the eve of +the battle of Austerlitz, but wore a tight new uniform with Russian +and foreign Orders, and the Star of St. George on his left breast. +Evidently just before coming to the dinner he had had his hair and +whiskers trimmed, which changed his appearance for the worse. There +was something naively festive in his air, which, in conjunction with +his firm and virile features, gave him a rather comical expression. +Bekleshev and Theodore Uvarov, who had arrived with him, paused at the +doorway to allow him, as the guest of honor, to enter first. Bagration +was embarrassed, not wishing to avail himself of their courtesy, and +this caused some delay at the doors, but after all he did at last +enter first. He walked shyly and awkwardly over the parquet floor of +the reception room, not knowing what to do with his hands; he was more +accustomed to walk over a plowed field under fire, as he had done at +the head of the Kursk regiment at Schon Grabern- and he would have +found that easier. The committeemen met him at the first door and, +expressing their delight at seeing such a highly honored guest, took +possession of him as it were, without waiting for his reply, +surrounded him, and led him to the drawing room. It was at first +impossible to enter the drawing-room door for the crowd of members and +guests jostling one another and trying to get a good look at Bagration +over each other's shoulders, as if he were some rare animal. Count +Ilya Rostov, laughing and repeating the words, "Make way, dear boy! +Make way, make way!" pushed through the crowd more energetically +than anyone, led the guests into the drawing room, and seated them +on the center sofa. The bigwigs, the most respected members of the +Club, beset the new arrivals. Count Ilya, again thrusting his way +through the crowd, went out of the drawing room and reappeared a +minute later with another committeeman, carrying a large silver salver +which he presented to Prince Bagration. On the salver lay some +verses composed and printed in the hero's honor. Bagration, on +seeing the salver, glanced around in dismay, as though seeking help. +But all eyes demanded that he should submit. Feeling himself in +their power, he resolutely took the salver with both hands and +looked sternly and reproachfully at the count who had presented it +to him. Someone obligingly took the dish from Bagration (or he +would, it seemed, have held it till evening and have gone in to dinner +with it) and drew his attention to the verses. + +"Well, I will read them, then!" Bagration seemed to say, and, fixing +his weary eyes on the paper, began to read them with a fixed and +serious expression. But the author himself took the verses and began +reading them aloud. Bagration bowed his bead and listened: + +_1 Bring glory then to Alexander's reign<br> +And on the throne our Titus shield. +A dreaded foe be thou, kindhearted as a man, +A Rhipheus at home, a Caesar in the field! +E'en fortunate Napoleon +Knows by experience, now, Bagration, +And dare not Herculean Russians trouble... + +But before he had finished reading, a stentorian major-domo +announced that dinner was ready! The door opened, and from the +dining room came the resounding strains of the polonaise: + +_1 Conquest's joyful thunder waken,<br> +Triumph, valiant Russians, now!... + +and Count Rostov, glancing angrily at the author who went on reading +his verses, bowed to Bagration. Everyone rose, feeling that dinner was +more important than verses, and Bagration, again preceding all the +rest, went in to dinner. He was seated in the place of honor between +two Alexanders- Bekleshev and Naryshkin- which was a significant +allusion to the name of the sovereign. Three hundred persons took +their seats in the dining room, according to their rank and +importance: the more important nearer to the honored guest, as +naturally as water flows deepest where the land lies lowest. + +Just before dinner, Count Ilya Rostov presented his son to +Bagration, who recognized him and said a few words to him, +disjointed and awkward, as were all the words he spoke that day, and +Count Ilya looked joyfully and proudly around while Bagration spoke to +his son. + +Nicholas Rostov, with Denisov and his new acquaintance, Dolokhov, +sat almost at the middle of the table. Facing them sat Pierre, +beside Prince Nesvitski. Count Ilya Rostov with the other members of +the committee sat facing Bagration and, as the very personification of +Moscow hospitality, did the honors to the prince. + +His efforts had not been in vain. The dinner, both the Lenten and +the other fare, was splendid, yet he could not feel quite at ease till +the end of the meal. He winked at the butler, whispered directions +to the footmen, and awaited each expected dish with some anxiety. +Everything was excellent. With the second course, a gigantic sterlet +(at sight of which Ilya Rostov blushed with self-conscious +pleasure), the footmen began popping corks and filling the champagne +glasses. After the fish, which made a certain sensation, the count +exchanged glances with the other committeemen. "There will be many +toasts, it's time to begin," he whispered, and taking up his glass, he +rose. All were silent, waiting for what he would say. + +"To the health of our Sovereign, the Emperor!" he cried, and at +the same moment his kindly eyes grew moist with tears of joy and +enthusiasm. The band immediately struck up "Conquest's joyful +thunder waken..." All rose and cried "Hurrah!" Bagration also rose and +shouted "Hurrah!" in exactly the same voice in which he had shouted it +on the field at Schon Grabern. Young Rostov's ecstatic voice could +be heard above the three hundred others. He nearly wept. "To the +health of our Sovereign, the Emperor!" he roared, "Hurrah!" and +emptying his glass at one gulp he dashed it to the floor. Many +followed his example, and the loud shouting continued for a long time. +When the voices subsided, the footmen cleared away the broken glass +and everybody sat down again, smiling at the noise they had made and +exchanging remarks. The old count rose once more, glanced at a note +lying beside his plate, and proposed a toast, "To the health of the +hero of our last campaign, Prince Peter Ivanovich Bagration!" and +again his blue eyes grew moist. "Hurrah!" cried the three hundred +voices again, but instead of the band a choir began singing a +cantata composed by Paul Ivanovich Kutuzov: + +_1 Russians! O'er all barriers on!<br> +Courage conquest guarantees; +Have we not Bagration? +He brings foe men to their knees,... etc. + +As soon as the singing was over, another and another toast was +proposed and Count Ilya Rostov became more and more moved, more +glass was smashed, and the shouting grew louder. They drank to +Bekleshev, Naryshkin, Uvarov, Dolgorukov, Apraksin, Valuev, to the +committee, to all the Club members and to all the Club guests, and +finally to Count Ilya Rostov separately, as the organizer of the +banquet. At that toast, the count took out his handkerchief and, +covering his face, wept outright. + +CHAPTER IV + +Pierre sat opposite Dolokhov and Nicholas Rostov. As usual, he ate +and drank much, and eagerly. But those who knew him intimately noticed +that some great change had come over him that day. He was silent all +through dinner and looked about, blinking and scowling, or, with fixed +eyes and a look of complete absent-mindedness, kept rubbing the bridge +of his nose. His face was depressed and gloomy. He seemed to see and +hear nothing of what was going on around him and to be absorbed by +some depressing and unsolved problem. + +The unsolved problem that tormented him was caused by hints given by +the princess, his cousin, at Moscow, concerning Dolokhov's intimacy +with his wife, and by an anonymous letter he had received that +morning, which in the mean jocular way common to anonymous letters +said that he saw badly through his spectacles, but that his wife's +connection with Dolokhov was a secret to no one but himself. Pierre +absolutely disbelieved both the princess' hints and the letter, but he +feared now to look at Dolokhov, who was sitting opposite him. Every +time he chanced to meet Dolokhov's handsome insolent eyes, Pierre felt +something terrible and monstrous rising in his soul and turned quickly +away. Involuntarily recalling his wife's past and her relations with +Dolokhov, Pierre saw clearly that what was said in the letter might be +true, or might at least seem to be true had it not referred to his +wife. He involuntarily remembered how Dolokhov, who had fully +recovered his former position after the campaign, had returned to +Petersburg and come to him. Availing himself of his friendly relations +with Pierre as a boon companion, Dolokhov had come straight to his +house, and Pierre had put him up and lent him money. Pierre recalled +how Helene had smilingly expressed disapproval of Dolokhov's living at +their house, and how cynically Dolokhov had praised his wife's +beauty to him and from that time till they came to Moscow had not left +them for a day. + +"Yes, he is very handsome," thought Pierre, "and I know him. It +would be particularly pleasant to him to dishonor my name and ridicule +me, just because I have exerted myself on his behalf, befriended +him, and helped him. I know and understand what a spice that would add +to the pleasure of deceiving me, if it really were true. Yes, if it +were true, but I do not believe it. I have no right to, and can't, +believe it." He remembered the expression Dolokhov's face assumed in +his moments of cruelty, as when tying the policeman to the bear and +dropping them into the water, or when he challenged a man to a duel +without any reason, or shot a post-boy's horse with a pistol. That +expression was often on Dolokhov's face when looking at him. "Yes, +he is a bully," thought Pierre, "to kill a man means nothing to him. +It must seem to him that everyone is afraid of him, and that must +please him. He must think that I, too, am afraid of him- and in fact I +am afraid of him," he thought, and again he felt something terrible +and monstrous rising in his soul. Dolokhov, Denisov, and Rostov were +now sitting opposite Pierre and seemed very gay. Rostov was talking +merrily to his two friends, one of whom was a dashing hussar and the +other a notorious duelist and rake, and every now and then he +glanced ironically at Pierre, whose preoccupied, absent-minded, and +massive figure was a very noticeable one at the dinner. Rostov +looked inimically at Pierre, first because Pierre appeared to his +hussar eyes as a rich civilian, the husband of a beauty, and in a +word- an old woman; and secondly because Pierre in his preoccupation +and absent-mindedness had not recognized Rostov and had not +responded to his greeting. When the Emperor's health was drunk, +Pierre, lost in thought, did not rise or lift his glass. + +"What are you about?" shouted Rostov, looking at him in an ecstasy +of exasperation. "Don't you hear it's His Majesty the Emperor's +health?" + +Pierre sighed, rose submissively, emptied his glass, and, waiting +till all were seated again, turned with his kindly smile to Rostov. + +"Why, I didn't recognize you!" he said. But Rostov was otherwise +engaged; he was shouting "Hurrah!" + +"Why don't you renew the acquaintance?" said Dolokhov to Rostov. + +"Confound him, he's a fool!" said Rostov. + +"One should make up to the husbands of pretty women," said Denisov. + +Pierre did not catch what they were saying, but knew they were +talking about him. He reddened and turned away. + +"Well, now to the health of handsome women!" said Dolokhov, and with +a serious expression, but with a smile lurking at the corners of his +mouth, he turned with his glass to Pierre. + +"Here's to the health of lovely women, Peterkin- and their +lovers!" he added. + +Pierre, with downcast eyes, drank out of his glass without looking +at Dolokhov or answering him. The footman, who was distributing +leaflets with Kutuzov's cantata, laid one before Pierre as one of +the principal guests. He was just going to take it when Dolokhov, +leaning across, snatched it from his hand and began reading it. Pierre +looked at Dolokhov and his eyes dropped, the something terrible and +monstrous that had tormented him all dinnertime rose and took +possession of him. He leaned his whole massive body across the table. + +"How dare you take it?" he shouted. + +Hearing that cry and seeing to whom it was addressed, Nesvitski +and the neighbor on his right quickly turned in alarm to Bezukhov. + +"Don't! Don't! What are you about?" whispered their frightened +voices. + +Dolokhov looked at Pierre with clear, mirthful, cruel eyes, and that +smile of his which seemed to say, "Ah! This is what I like!" + +"You shan't have it!" he said distinctly. + +Pale, with quivering lips, Pierre snatched the copy. + +"You...! you... scoundrel! I challenge you!" he ejaculated, and, +pushing back his chair, he rose from the table. + +At the very instant he did this and uttered those words, Pierre felt +that the question of his wife's guilt which had been tormenting him +the whole day was finally and indubitably answered in the affirmative. +He hated her and was forever sundered from her. Despite Denisov's +request that he would take no part in the matter, Rostov agreed to +be Dolokhov's second, and after dinner he discussed the arrangements +for the duel with Nesvitski, Bezukhov's second. Pierre went home, +but Rostov with Dolokhov and Denisov stayed on at the Club till +late, listening to the gypsies and other singers. + +"Well then, till tomorrow at Sokolniki,"said Dolokhov, as he took +leave of Rostov in the Club porch. + +"And do you feel quite calm?" Rostov asked. + +Dolokhov paused. + +"Well, you see, I'll tell you the whole secret of dueling in two +words. If you are going to fight a duel, and you make a will and write +affectionate letters to your parents, and if you think you may be +killed, you are a fool and are lost for certain. But go with the +firm intention of killing your man as quickly and surely as +possible, and then all will be right, as our bear huntsman at Kostroma +used to tell me. 'Everyone fears a bear,' he says, 'but when you see +one your fear's all gone, and your only thought is not to let him +get away!' And that's how it is with me. A demain, mon cher."~^ + +^~ Till tomorrow, my dear fellow. + +Next day, at eight in the morning, Pierre and Nesvitski drove to the +Sokolniki forest and found Dolokhov, Denisov, and Rostov already +there. Pierre had the air of a man preoccupied with considerations +which had no connection with the matter in hand. His haggard face +was yellow. He had evidently not slept that night. He looked about +distractedly and screwed up his eyes as if dazzled by the sun. He +was entirely absorbed by two considerations: his wife's guilt, of +which after his sleepless night he had not the slightest doubt, and +the guiltlessness of Dolokhov, who had no reason to preserve the honor +of a man who was nothing to him.... "I should perhaps have done the +same thing in his place," thought Pierre. "It's even certain that I +should have done the same, then why this duel, this murder? Either I +shall kill him, or he will hit me in the head, or elbow, or knee. +Can't I go away from here, run away, bury myself somewhere?" passed +through his mind. But just at moments when such thoughts occurred to +him, he would ask in a particularly calm and absent-minded way, +which inspired the respect of the onlookers, "Will it be long? Are +things ready?" + +When all was ready, the sabers stuck in the snow to mark the +barriers, and the pistols loaded, Nesvitski went up to Pierre. + +"I should not be doing my duty, Count," he said in timid tones, "and +should not justify your confidence and the honor you have done me in +choosing me for your second, if at this grave, this very grave, moment +I did not tell you the whole truth. I think there is no sufficient +ground for this affair, or for blood to be shed over it.... You were +not right, not quite in the right, you were impetuous..." + +"Oh yes, it is horribly stupid," said Pierre. + +"Then allow me to express your regrets, and I am sure your +opponent will accept them," said Nesvitski (who like the others +concerned in the affair, and like everyone in similar cases, did not +yet believe that the affair had come to an actual duel). "You know, +Count, it is much more honorable to admit one's mistake than to let +matters become irreparable. There was no insult on either side. +Allow me to convey...." + +"No! What is there to talk about?" said Pierre. "It's all the +same.... Is everything ready?" he added. "Only tell me where to go and +where to shoot," he said with an unnaturally gentle smile. + +He took the pistol in his hand and began asking about the working of +the trigger, as he had not before held a pistol in his hand- a fact +that he did not to confess. + +"Oh yes, like that, I know, I only forgot," said he. + +"No apologies, none whatever," said Dolokhov to Denisov (who on +his side had been attempting a reconciliation), and he also went up to +the appointed place. + +The spot chosen for the duel was some eighty paces from the road, +where the sleighs had been left, in a small clearing in the pine +forest covered with melting snow, the frost having begun to break up +during the last few days. The antagonists stood forty paces apart at +the farther edge of the clearing. The seconds, measuring the paces, +left tracks in the deep wet snow between the place where they had been +standing and Nesvitski's and Dolokhov's sabers, which were stuck +intothe ground ten paces apart to mark the barrier. It was thawing and +misty; at forty paces' distance nothing could be seen. For three +minutes all had been ready, but they still delayed and all were +silent. + +CHAPTER V + +"Well begin!" said Dolokhov. + +"All right," said Pierre, still smiling in the same way. A feeling +of dread was in the air. It was evident that the affair so lightly +begun could no longer be averted but was taking its course +independently of men's will. + +Denisov first went to the barrier and announced: "As the adve'sawies +have wefused a weconciliation, please pwoceed. Take your pistols, +and at the word thwee begin to advance. + +"O-ne! T-wo! Thwee!" he shouted angrily and stepped aside. + +The combatants advanced along the trodden tracks, nearer and +nearer to one another, beginning to see one another through the +mist. They had the right to fire when they liked as they approached +the barrier. Dolokhov walked slowly without raising his pistol, +looking intently with his bright, sparkling blue eyes into his +antagonist's face. His mouth wore its usual semblance of a smile. + +"So I can fire when I like!" said Pierre, and at the word "three," +he went quickly forward, missing the trodden path and stepping into +the deep snow. He held the pistol in his right hand at arm's length, +apparently afraid of shooting himself with it. His left hand he held +carefully back, because he wished to support his right hand with it +and knew he must not do so. Having advanced six paces and strayed +off the track into the snow, Pierre looked down at his feet, then +quickly glanced at Dolokhov and, bending his finger as he had been +shown, fired. Not at all expecting so loud a report, Pierre +shuddered at the sound and then, smiling at his own sensations, +stood still. The smoke, rendered denser by the mist, prevented him +from seeing anything for an instant, but there was no second report as +he had expected. He only heard Dolokhov's hurried steps, and his +figure came in view through the smoke. He was pressing one hand to his +left side, while the other clutched his drooping pistol. His face +was pale. Rostov ran toward him and said something. + +"No-o-o!" muttered Dolokhov through his teeth, "no, it's not +over." And after stumbling a few staggering steps right up to the +saber, he sank on the snow beside it. His left hand was bloody; he +wiped it on his coat and supported himself with it. His frowning +face was pallid and quivered. + +"Plea..." began Dolokhov, but could not at first pronounce the word. + +"Please," he uttered with an effort. + +Pierre, hardly restraining his sobs, began running toward Dolokhov +and was about to cross the space between the barriers, when Dolokhov +cried: + +"To your barrier!" and Pierre, grasping what was meant, stopped by +his saber. Only ten paces divided them. Dolokhov lowered his head to +the snow, greedily bit at it, again raised his head, adjusted himself, +drew in his legs and sat up, seeking a firm center of gravity. He +sucked and sucked and swallowed the cold snow, his lips quivered but +his eyes, still smiling, glittered with effort and exasperation as +he mustered his remaining strength. He raised his pistol and aimed. + +"Sideways! Cover yourself with your pistol!" ejaculated Nesvitski. + +"Cover yourself!" even Denisov cried to his adversary. + +Pierre, with a gentle smile of pity and remorse, his arms and legs +helplessly spread out, stood with his broad chest directly facing +Dolokhov looked sorrowfully at him. Denisov, Rostov, and Nesvitski +closed their eyes. At the same instant they heard a report and +Dolokhov's angry cry. + +"Missed!" shouted Dolokhov, and he lay helplessly, face downwards on +the snow. + +Pierre clutched his temples, and turning round went into the forest, +trampling through the deep snow, and muttering incoherent words: + +"Folly... folly! Death... lies..." he repeated, puckering his face. + +Nesvitski stopped him and took him home. + +Rostov and Denisov drove away with the wounded Dolokhov. + +The latter lay silent in the sleigh with closed eyes and did not +answer a word to the questions addressed to him. But on entering +Moscow he suddenly came to and, lifting his head with an effort, +took Rostov, who was sitting beside him, by the hand. Rostov was +struck by the totally altered and unexpectedly rapturous and tender +expression on Dolokhov's face. + +"Well? How do you feel?" he asked. + +"Bad! But it's not that, my friend-" said Dolokhov with a gasping +voice. "Where are we? In Moscow, I know. I don't matter, but I have +killed her, killed... She won't get over it! She won't survive...." + +"Who?" asked Rostov. + +"My mother! My mother, my angel, my adored angel mother," and +Dolokhov pressed Rostov's hand and burst into tears. + +When he had become a little quieter, he explained to Rostov that +he was living with his mother, who, if she saw him dying, would not +survive it. He implored Rostov to go on and prepare her. + +Rostov went on ahead to do what was asked, and to his great surprise +learned that Dolokhov the brawler, Dolokhov the bully, lived in Moscow +with an old mother and a hunchback sister, and was the most +affectionate of sons and brothers. + +CHAPTER VI + +Pierre had of late rarely seen his wife alone. Both in Petersburg +and in Moscow their house was always full of visitors. The night after +the duel he did not go to his bedroom but, as he often did, remained +in his father's room, that huge room in which Count Bezukhov had died. + +He lay down on the sofa meaning to fall asleep and forget all that +had happened to him, but could not do so. Such a storm of feelings, +thoughts, and memories suddenly arose within him that he could not +fall asleep, nor even remain in one place, but had to jump up and pace +the room with rapid steps. Now he seemed to see her in the early +days of their marriage, with bare shoulders and a languid, +passionate look on her face, and then immediately he saw beside her +Dolokhov's handsome, insolent, hard, and mocking face as he had seen +it at the banquet, and then that same face pale, quivering, and +suffering, as it had been when he reeled and sank on the snow. + +"What has happened?" he asked himself. "I have killed her lover, +yes, killed my wife's lover. Yes, that was it! And why? How did I come +to do it?"- "Because you married her," answered an inner voice. + +"But in what was I to blame?" he asked. "In marrying her without +loving her; in deceiving yourself and her." And he vividly recalled +that moment after supper at Prince Vasili's, when he spoke those words +he had found so difficult to utter: "I love you." "It all comes from +that! Even then I felt it," he thought. "I felt then that it was not +so, that I had no right to do it. And so it turns out." + +He remembered his honeymoon and blushed at the recollection. +Particularly vivid, humiliating, and shameful was the recollection +of how one day soon after his marriage he came out of the bedroom into +his study a little before noon in his silk dressing gown and found his +head steward there, who, bowing respectfully, looked into his face and +at his dressing gown and smiled slightly, as if expressing +respectful understanding of his employer's happiness. + +"But how often I have felt proud of her, proud of her majestic +beauty and social tact," thought he; "been proud of my house, in which +she received all Petersburg, proud of her unapproachability and +beauty. So this is what I was proud of! I then thought that I did +not understand her. How often when considering her character I have +told myself that I was to blame for not understanding her, for not +understanding that constant composure and complacency and lack of +all interests or desires, and the whole secret lies in the terrible +truth that she is a depraved woman. Now I have spoken that terrible +word to myself all has become clear. + +"Anatole used to come to borrow money from her and used to kiss +her naked shoulders. She did not give him the money, but let herself +be kissed. Her father in jest tried to rouse her jealousy, and she +replied with a calm smile that she was not so stupid as to be jealous: +'Let him do what he pleases,' she used to say of me. One day I asked +her if she felt any symptoms of pregnancy. She laughed +contemptuously and said she was not a fool to want to have children, +and that she was not going to have any children by me." + +Then he recalled the coarseness and bluntness of her thoughts and +the vulgarity of the expressions that were natural to her, though +she had been brought up in the most aristocratic circles. + +"I'm not such a fool.... Just you try it on.... Allez-vous +promener,"~^ she used to say. Often seeing the success she had with +young and old men and women Pierre could not understand why he did not +love her. + +^~ "You clear out of this." + +"Yes, I never loved her," said he to himself; "I knew she was a +depraved woman," he repeated, "but dared not admit it to myself. And +now there's Dolokhov sitting in the snow with a forced smile and +perhaps dying, while meeting my remorse with some forced bravado!" + +Pierre was one of those people who, in spite of an appearance of +what is called weak character, do not seek a confidant in their +troubles. He digested his sufferings alone. + +"It is all, all her fault," he said to himself; "but what of that? +Why did I bind myself to her? Why did I say 'Je vous aime'~^ to her, +which was a lie, and worse than a lie? I am guilty and must +endure... what? A slur on my name? A misfortune for life? Oh, that's +nonsense," he thought. "The slur on my name and honor- that's all +apart from myself. + +^~ I love you. + +"Louis XVI was executed because they said he was dishonorable and +a criminal," came into Pierre's head, "and from their point of view +they were right, as were those too who canonized him and died a +martyr's death for his sake. Then Robespierre was beheaded for being a +despot. Who is right and who is wrong? No one! But if you are alive- +live: tomorrow you'll die as I might have died an hour ago. And is +it worth tormenting oneself, when one has only a moment of life in +comparison with eternity?" + +But at the moment when he imagined himself calmed by such +reflections, she suddenly came into his mind as she was at the moments +when he had most strongly expressed his insincere love for her, and he +felt the blood rush to his heart and had again to get up and move +about and break and tear whatever came to his hand. "Why did I tell +her that 'Je vous aime'?" he kept repeating to himself. And when he +had said it for the tenth time, Molibre's words: "Mais que diable +alloit-il faire dans cette galere?" occurred to him, and he began to +laugh at himself. + +In the night he called his valet and told him to pack up to go to +Petersburg. He could not imagine how he could speak to her now. He +resolved to go away next day and leave a letter informing her of his +intention to part from her forever. + +Next morning when the valet came into the room with his coffee, +Pierre was lying asleep on the ottoman with an open book in his hand. + +He woke up and looked round for a while with a startled +expression, unable to realize where he was. + +"The countess told me to inquire whether your excellency was at +home," said the valet. + +But before Pierre could decide what answer he would send, the +countess herself in a white satin dressing gown embroidered with +silver and with simply dressed hair (two immense plaits twice round +her lovely head like a coronet) entered the room, calm and majestic, +except that there was a wrathful wrinkle on her rather prominent +marble brow. With her imperturbable calm she did not begin to speak in +front of the valet. She knew of the duel and had come to speak about +it. She waited till the valet had set down the coffee things and +left the room. Pierre looked at her timidly over his spectacles, and +like a hare surrounded by hounds who lays back her ears and +continues to crouch motionless before her enemies, he tried to +continue reading. But feeling this to be senseless and impossible, +he again glanced timidly at her. She did not sit down but looked at +him with a contemptuous smile, waiting for the valet to go. + +"Well, what's this now? What have you been up to now, I should +like to know?" she asked sternly. + +"I? What have I...?" stammered Pierre. + +"So it seems you're a hero, eh? Come now, what was this duel +about? What is it meant to prove? What? I ask you." + +Pierre turned over heavily on the ottoman and opened his mouth, +but could not reply. + +"If you won't answer, I'll tell you..." Helene went on. "You believe +everything you're told. You were told..." Helene laughed, "that +Dolokhov was my lover," she said in French with her coarse plainness +of speech, uttering the word amant as casually as any other word, "and +you believed it! Well, what have you proved? What does this duel +prove? That you're a fool, que vous etes un sot, but everybody knew +that. What will be the result? That I shall be the laughingstock of +all Moscow, that everyone will say that you, drunk and not knowing +what you were about, challenged a man you are jealous of without +cause." Helene raised her voice and became more and more excited, "A +man who's a better man than you in every way..." + +"Hm... Hm...!" growled Pierre, frowning without looking at her, +and not moving a muscle. + +"And how could you believe he was my lover? Why? Because I like +his company? If you were cleverer and more agreeable, I should +prefer yours." + +"Don't speak to me... I beg you," muttered Pierre hoarsely. + +"Why shouldn't I speak? I can speak as I like, and I tell you +plainly that there are not many wives with husbands such as you who +would not have taken lovers (des amants), but I have not done so," +said she. + +Pierre wished to say something, looked at her with eyes whose +strange expression she did not understand, and lay down again. He +was suffering physically at that moment, there was a weight on his +chest and he could not breathe. He knew that he must do something to +put an end to this suffering, but what he wanted to do was too +terrible. + +"We had better separate," he muttered in a broken voice. + +"Separate? Very well, but only if you give me a fortune," said +Helene. "Separate! That's a thing to frighten me with!" + +Pierre leaped up from the sofa and rushed staggering toward her. + +"I'll kill you!" he shouted, and seizing the marble top of a table +with a strength he had never before felt, he made a step toward her +brandishing the slab. + +Helene's face became terrible, she shrieked and sprang aside. His +father's nature showed itself in Pierre. He felt the fascination and +delight of frenzy. He flung down the slab, broke it, and swooping down +on her with outstretched hands shouted, "Get out!" in such a +terrible voice that the whole house heard it with horror. God knows +what he would have done at that moment had Helene not fled from the +room. + +A week later Pierre gave his wife full power to control all his +estates in Great Russia, which formed the larger part of his property, +and left for Petersburg alone. + +CHAPTER VII + +Two months had elapsed since the news of the battle of Austerlitz +and the loss of Prince Andrew had reached Bald Hills, and in spite +of the letters sent through the embassy and all the searches made, his +body had not been found nor was he on the list of prisoners. What +was worst of all for his relations was the fact that there was still a +possibility of his having been picked up on the battlefield by the +people of the place and that he might now be lying, recovering or +dying, alone among strangers and unable to send news of himself. The +gazettes from which the old prince first heard of the defeat at +Austerlitz stated, as usual very briefly and vaguely, that after +brilliant engagements the Russians had had to retreat and had made +their withdrawal in perfect order. The old prince understood from this +official report that our army had been defeated. A week after the +gazette report of the battle of Austerlitz came a letter from +Kutuzov informing the prince of the fate that had befallen his son. + +"Your son," wrote Kutuzov, "fell before my eyes, a standard in his +hand and at the head of a regiment- he fell as a hero, worthy of his +father and his fatherland. To the great regret of myself and of the +whole army it is still uncertain whether he is alive or not. I comfort +myself and you with the hope that your son is alive, for otherwise +he would have been mentioned among the officers found on the field +of battle, a list of whom has been sent me under flag of truce." + +After receiving this news late in the evening, when he was alone +in his study, the old prince went for his walk as usual next +morning, but he was silent with his steward, the gardener, and the +architect, and though he looked very grim he said nothing to anyone. + +When Princess Mary went to him at the usual hour he was working at +his lathe and, as usual, did not look round at her. + +"Ah, Princess Mary!" he said suddenly in an unnatural voice, +throwing down his chisel. (The wheel continued to revolve by its own +impetus, and Princess Mary long remembered the dying creak of that +wheel, which merged in her memory with what followed.) + +She approached him, saw his face, and something gave way within her. +Her eyes grew dim. By the expression of her father's face, not sad, +not crushed, but angry and working unnaturally, she saw that hanging +over her and about to crush her was some terrible misfortune, the +worst in life, one she had not yet experienced, irreparable and +incomprehensible- the death of one she loved. + +"Father! Andrew!"- said the ungraceful, awkward princess with such +an indescribable charm of sorrow and self-forgetfulness that her +father could not bear her look but turned away with a sob. + +"Bad news! He's not among the prisoners nor among the killed! +Kutuzov writes..." and he screamed as piercingly as if he wished to +drive the princess away by that scream... "Killed!" + +The princess did not fall down or faint. She was already pale, but +on hearing these words her face changed and something brightened in +her beautiful, radiant eyes. It was as if joy- a supreme joy apart +from the joys and sorrows of this world- overflowed the great grief +within her. She forgot all fear of her father, went up to him, took +his hand, and drawing him down put her arm round his thin, scraggy +neck. + +"Father" she said, "do not turn away from me, let us weep together." + +"Scoundrels! Blackguards!" shrieked the old man, turning his face +away from her. "Destroying the army, destroying the men! And why? +Go, go and tell Lise." + +The princess sank helplessly into an armchair beside her father +and wept. She saw her brother now as he had been at the moment when he +took leave of her and of Lise, his look tender yet proud. She saw +him tender and amused as he was when he put on the little icon. "Did +he believe? Had he repented of his unbelief? Was he now there? There +in the realms of eternal peace and blessedness?" she thought. + +"Father, tell me how it happened," she asked through her tears. + +"Go! Go! Killed in battle, where the best of Russian men and +Russia's glory were led to destruction. Go, Princess Mary. Go and tell +Lise. I will follow." + +When Princess Mary returned from her father, the little princess sat +working and looked up with that curious expression of inner, happy +calm peculiar to pregnant women. It was evident that her eyes did +not see Princess Mary but were looking within... into herself... at +something joyful and mysterious taking place within her. + +"Mary," she said, moving away from the embroidery frame and lying +back, "give me your hand." She took her sister-in-law's hand and +held it below her waist. + +Her eyes were smiling expectantly, her downy lip rose and remained +lifted in childlike happiness. + +Princess Mary knelt down before her and hid her face in the folds of +her sister-in-law's dress. + +"There, there! Do you feel it? I feel so strange. And do you know, +Mary, I am going to love him very much," said Lise, looking with +bright and happy eyes at her sister-in-law. + +Princess Mary could not lift her head, she was weeping. + +"What is the matter, Mary?" + +"Nothing... only I feel sad... sad about Andrew," she said, wiping +away her tears on her sister-in-law's knee. + +Several times in the course of the morning Princess Mary began +trying to prepare her sister-in-law, and every time began to cry. +Unobservant as was the little princess, these tears, the cause of +which she did not understand, agitated her. She said nothing but +looked about uneasily as if in search of something. Before dinner +the old prince, of whom she was always afraid, came into her room with +a peculiarly restless and malign expression and went out again without +saying a word. She looked at Princess Mary, then sat thinking for a +while with that expression of attention to something within her that +is only seen in pregnant women, and suddenly began to cry. + +"Has anything come from Andrew?" she asked. + +"No, you know it's too soon for news. But my father is anxious and I +feel afraid." + +"So there's nothing?" + +"Nothing," answered Princess Mary, looking firmly with her radiant +eyes at her sister-in-law. + +She had determined not to tell her and persuaded her father to +hide the terrible news from her till after her confinement, which +was expected within a few days. Princess Mary and the old prince +each bore and hid their grief in their own way. The old prince would +not cherish any hope: he made up his mind that Prince Andrew had +been killed, and though he sent an official to Austria to seek for +traces of his son, he ordered a monument from Moscow which he intended +to erect in his own garden to his memory, and he told everybody that +his son had been killed. He tried not to change his former way of +life, but his strength failed him. He walked less, ate less, slept +less, and became weaker every day. Princess Mary hoped. She prayed for +her brother as living and was always awaiting news of his return. + +CHAPTER VIII + +"Dearest," said the little princess after breakfast on the morning +of the nineteenth March, and her downy little lip rose from old habit, +but as sorrow was manifest in every smile, the sound of every word, +and even every footstep in that house since the terrible news had +come, so now the smile of the little princess- influenced by the +general mood though without knowing its cause- was such as to remind +one still more of the general sorrow. + +"Dearest, I'm afraid this morning's fruschtique~^ as Foka the cook +calls it- has disagreed with me." + +^~ Fruhstuck: breakfast. + +"What is the matter with you, my darling? You look pale. Oh, you are +very pale!" said Princess Mary in alarm, running with her soft, +ponderous steps up to her sister-in-law. + +"Your excellency, should not Mary Bogdanovna be sent for?" said +one of the maids who was present. (Mary Bogdanovna was a midwife +from the neighboring town, who had been at Bald Hills for the last +fortnight.) + +"Oh yes," assented Princess Mary, "perhaps that's it. I'll go. +Courage, my angel." She kissed Lise and was about to leave the room. + +"Oh, no, no!" And besides the pallor and the physical suffering on +the little princess' face, an expression of childish fear of +inevitable pain showed itself. + +"No, it's only indigestion?... Say it's only indigestion, say so, +Mary! Say..." And the little princess began to cry capriciously like a +suffering child and to wring her little hands even with some +affectation. Princess Mary ran out of the room to fetch Mary +Bogdanovna. + +"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Oh!" she heard as she left the room. + +The midwife was already on her way to meet her, rubbing her small, +plump white hands with an air of calm importance. + +"Mary Bogdanovna, I think it's beginning!" said Princess Mary +looking at the midwife with wide-open eyes of alarm. + +"Well, the Lord be thanked, Princess," said Mary Bogdanovna, not +hastening her steps. "You young ladies should not know anything +about it." + +"But how is it the doctor from Moscow is not here yet?" said the +princess. (In accordance with Lise's and Prince Andrew's wishes they +had sent in good time to Moscow for a doctor and were expecting him at +any moment.) + +"No matter, Princess, don't be alarmed," said Mary Bogdanovna. +"We'll manage very well without a doctor." + +Five minutes later Princess Mary from her room heard something heavy +being carried by. She looked out. The men servants were carrying the +large leather sofa from Prince Andrew's study into the bedroom. On +their faces was a quiet and solemn look. + +Princess Mary sat alone in her room listening to the sounds in the +house, now and then opening her door when someone passed and +watching what was going on in the passage. Some women passing with +quiet steps in and out of the bedroom glanced at the princess and +turned away. She did not venture to ask any questions, and shut the +door again, now sitting down in her easy chair, now taking her +prayer book, now kneeling before the icon stand. To her surprise and +distress she found that her prayers did not calm her excitement. +Suddenly her door opened softly and her old nurse, Praskovya Savishna, +who hardly ever came to that room as the old prince had forbidden +it, appeared on the threshold with a shawl round her head. + +"I've come to sit with you a bit, Masha," said the nurse, "and +here I've brought the prince's wedding candles to light before his +saint, my angel," she said with a sigh. + +"Oh, nurse, I'm so glad!" + +"God is merciful, birdie." + +The nurse lit the gilt candles before the icons and sat down by +the door with her knitting. Princess Mary took a book and began +reading. Only when footsteps or voices were heard did they look at one +another, the princess anxious and inquiring, the nurse encouraging. +Everyone in the house was dominated by the same feeling that +Princess Mary experienced as she sat in her room. But owing to the +superstition that the fewer the people who know of it the less a woman +in travail suffers, everyone tried to pretend not to know; no one +spoke of it, but apart from the ordinary staid and respectful good +manners habitual in the prince's household, a common anxiety, a +softening of the heart, and a consciousness that something great and +mysterious was being accomplished at that moment made itself felt. + +There was no laughter in the maids' large hall. In the men servants' +hall all sat waiting, silently and alert. In the outlying serfs' +quarters torches and candles were burning and no one slept. The old +prince, stepping on his heels, paced up and down his study and sent +Tikhon to ask Mary Bogdanovna what news.- "Say only that 'the prince +told me to ask,' and come and tell me her answer." + +"Inform the prince that labor has begun," said Mary Bogdanovna, +giving the messenger a significant look. + +Tikhon went and told the prince. + +"Very good!" said the prince closing the door behind him, and Tikhon +did not hear the slightest sound from the study after that. + +After a while he re-entered it as if to snuff the candles, and, +seeing the prince was lying on the sofa, looked at him, noticed his +perturbed face, shook his head, and going up to him silently kissed +him on the shoulder and left the room without snuffing the candles +or saying why he had entered. The most solemn mystery in the world +continued its course. Evening passed, night came, and the feeling of +suspense and softening of heart in the presence of the unfathomable +did not lessen but increased. No one slept. + +It was one of those March nights when winter seems to wish to resume +its sway and scatters its last snows and storms with desperate fury. A +relay of horses had been sent up the highroad to meet the German +doctor from Moscow who was expected every moment, and men on horseback +with lanterns were sent to the crossroads to guide him over the +country road with its hollows and snow-covered pools of water. + +Princess Mary had long since put aside her book: she sat silent, her +luminous eyes fixed on her nurse's wrinkled face (every line of +which she knew so well), on the lock of gray hair that escaped from +under the kerchief, and the loose skin that hung under her chin. + +Nurse Savishna, knitting in hand, was telling in low tones, scarcely +hearing or understanding her own words, what she had told hundreds +of times before: how the late princess had given birth to Princess +Mary in Kishenev with only a Moldavian peasant woman to help instead +of a midwife. + +"God is merciful, doctors are never needed," she said. + +Suddenly a gust of wind beat violently against the casement of the +window, from which the double frame had been removed (by order of +the prince, one window frame was removed in each room as soon as the +larks returned), and, forcing open a loosely closed latch, set the +damask curtain flapping and blew out the candle with its chill, +snowy draft. Princess Mary shuddered; her nurse, putting down the +stocking she was knitting, went to the window and leaning out tried to +catch the open casement. The cold wind flapped the ends of her +kerchief and her loose locks of gray hair. + +"Princess, my dear, there's someone driving up the avenue! " she +said, holding the casement and not closing it. "With lanterns. Most +likely the doctor." + +"Oh, my God! thank God!" said Princess Mary. "I must go and meet +him, he does not know Russian." + +Princess Mary threw a shawl over her head and ran to meet the +newcomer. As she was crossing the anteroom she saw through the +window a carriage with lanterns, standing at the entrance. She went +out on the stairs. On a banister post stood a tallow candle which +guttered in the draft. On the landing below, Philip, the footman, +stood looking scared and holding another candle. Still lower, beyond +the turn of the staircase, one could hear the footstep of someone in +thick felt boots, and a voice that seemed familiar to Princess Mary +was saying something. + +"Thank God!" said the voice. "And Father?" + +"Gone to bed," replied the voice of Demyan the house steward, who +was downstairs. + +Then the voice said something more, Demyan replied, and the steps in +the felt boots approached the unseen bend of the staircase more +rapidly. + +"It's Andrew!" thought Princess Mary. "No it can't be, that would be +too extraordinary," and at the very moment she thought this, the +face and figure of Prince Andrew, in a fur cloak the deep collar of +which covered with snow, appeared on the landing where the footman +stood with the candle. Yes, it was he, pale, thin, with a changed +and strangely softened but agitated expression on his face. He came up +the stairs and embraced his sister. + +"You did not get my letter?" he asked, and not waiting for a +reply- which he would not have received, for the princess was unable +to speak- he turned back, rapidly mounted the stairs again with the +doctor who had entered the hall after him (they had met at the last +post station), and again embraced his sister. + +"What a strange fate, Masha darling!" And having taken off his cloak +and felt boots, he went to the little princess' apartment. + +CHAPTER IX + +The little princess lay supported by pillows, with a white cap on +her head (the pains had just left her). Strands of her black hair +lay round her inflamed and perspiring cheeks, her charming rosy +mouth with its downy lip was open and she was smiling joyfully. Prince +Andrew entered and paused facing her at the foot of the sofa on +which she was lying. Her glittering eyes, filled with childlike fear +and excitement, rested on him without changing their expression. "I +love you all and have done no harm to anyone; why must I suffer so? +Help me!" her look seemed to say. She saw her husband, but did not +realize the significance of his appearance before her now. Prince +Andrew went round the sofa and kissed her forehead. + +"My darling!" he said- a word he had never used to her before. +"God is merciful...." + +She looked at him inquiringly and with childlike reproach. + +"I expected help from you and I get none, none from you either!" +said her eyes. She was not surprised at his having come; she did not +realize that he had come. His coming had nothing to do with her +sufferings or with their relief. The pangs began again and Mary +Bogdanovna advised Prince Andrew to leave the room. + +The doctor entered. Prince Andrew went out and, meeting Princess +Mary, again joined her. They began talking in whispers, but their talk +broke off at every moment. They waited and listened. + +"Go, dear," said Princess Mary. + +Prince Andrew went again to his wife and sat waiting in the room +next to hers. A woman came from the bedroom with a frightened face and +became confused when she saw Prince Andrew. He covered his face with +his hands and remained so for some minutes. Piteous, helpless, +animal moans came through the door. Prince Andrew got up, went to +the door, and tried to open it. Someone was holding it shut. + +"You can't come in! You can't!" said a terrified voice from within. + +He began pacing the room. The screaming ceased, and a few more +seconds went by. Then suddenly a terrible shriek- it could not be +hers, she could not scream like that- came from the bedroom. Prince +Andrew ran to the door; the scream ceased and he heard the wail of +an infant. + +"What have they taken a baby in there for?" thought Prince Andrew in +the first second. "A baby? What baby...? Why is there a baby there? Or +is the baby born?" + +Then suddenly he realized the joyful significance of that wail; +tears choked him, and leaning his elbows on the window sill be began +to cry, sobbing like a child. The door opened. The doctor with his +shirt sleeves tucked up, without a coat, pale and with a trembling +jaw, came out of the room. Prince Andrew turned to him, but the doctor +gave him a bewildered look and passed by without a word. A woman +rushed out and seeing Prince Andrew stopped, hesitating on the +threshold. He went into his wife's room. She was lying dead, in the +same position he had seen her in five minutes before and, despite +the fixed eyes and the pallor of the cheeks, the same expression was +on her charming childlike face with its upper lip covered with tiny +black hair. + +"I love you all, and have done no harm to anyone; and what have +you done to me?"- said her charming, pathetic, dead face. + +In a corner of the room something red and tiny gave a grunt and +squealed in Mary Bogdanovna's trembling white hands. + +Two hours later Prince Andrew, stepping softly, went into his +father's room. The old man already knew everything. He was standing +close to the door and as soon as it opened his rough old arms closed +like a vise round his son's neck, and without a word he began to sob +like a child. + +Three days later the little princess was buried, and Prince Andrew +went up the steps to where the coffin stood, to give her the +farewell kiss. And there in the coffin was the same face, though +with closed eyes. "Ah, what have you done to me?" it still seemed to +say, and Prince Andrew felt that something gave way in his soul and +that he was guilty of a sin he could neither remedy nor forget. He +could not weep. The old man too came up and kissed the waxen little +hands that lay quietly crossed one on the other on her breast, and +to him, too, her face seemed to say: "Ah, what have you done to me, +and why?" And at the sight the old man turned angrily away. + +Another five days passed, and then the young Prince Nicholas +Andreevich was baptized. The wet nurse supported the coverlet with her +while the priest with a goose feather anointed the boy's little red +and wrinkled soles and palms. + +His grandfather, who was his godfather, trembling and afraid of +dropping him, carried the infant round the battered tin font and +handed him over to the godmother, Princess Mary. Prince Andrew sat +in another room, faint with fear lest the baby should be drowned in +the font, and awaited the termination of the ceremony. He looked up +joyfully at the baby when the nurse brought it to him and nodded +approval when she told him that the wax with the baby's hair had not +sunk in the font but had floated. + +CHAPTER X + +Rostov's share in Dolokhov's duel with Bezukhov was hushed up by the +efforts of the old count, and instead of being degraded to the ranks +as he expected he was appointed an adjutant to the governor general of +Moscow. As a result he could not go to the country with the rest of +the family, but was kept all summer in Moscow by his new duties. +Dolokhov recovered, and Rostov became very friendly with him during +his convalescence. Dolokhov lay ill at his mother's who loved him +passionately and tenderly, and old Mary Ivanovna, who had grown fond +of Rostov for his friendship to her Fedya, often talked to him about +her son. + +"Yes, Count," she would say, "he is too noble and pure-souled for +our present, depraved world. No one now loves virtue; it seems like +a reproach to everyone. Now tell me, Count, was it right, was it +honorable, of Bezukhov? And Fedya, with his noble spirit, loved him +and even now never says a word against him. Those pranks in Petersburg +when they played some tricks on a policeman, didn't they do it +together? And there! Bezukhov got off scotfree, while Fedya had to +bear the whole burden on his shoulders. Fancy what he had to go +through! It's true he has been reinstated, but how could they fail +to do that? I think there were not many such gallant sons of the +fatherland out there as he. And now- this duel! Have these people no +feeling, or honor? Knowing him to be an only son, to challenge him and +shoot so straight! It's well God had mercy on us. And what was it for? +Who doesn't have intrigues nowadays? Why, if he was so jealous, as I +see things he should have shown it sooner, but he lets it go on for +months. And then to call him out, reckoning on Fedya not fighting +because he owed him money! What baseness! What meanness! I know you +understand Fedya, my dear count; that, believe me, is why I am so fond +of you. Few people do understand him. He is such a lofty, heavenly +soul!" + +Dolokhov himself during his convalescence spoke to Rostov in a way +no one would have expected of him. + +"I know people consider me a bad man!" he said. "Let them! I don't +care a straw about anyone but those I love; but those I love, I love +so that I would give my life for them, and the others I'd throttle +if they stood in my way. I have an adored, a priceless mother, and two +or three friends- you among them- and as for the rest I only care +about them in so far as they are harmful or useful. And most of them +are harmful, especially the women. Yes, dear boy," he continued, "I +have met loving, noble, high-minded men, but I have not yet met any +women- countesses or cooks- who were not venal. I have not yet met +that divine purity and devotion I look for in women. If I found such a +one I'd give my life for her! But those!... and he made a gesture of +contempt. "And believe me, if I still value my life it is only because +I still hope to meet such a divine creature, who will regenerate, +purify, and elevate me. But you don't understand it." + +"Oh, yes, I quite understand, "answered Rostov, who was under his +new friend's influence. + +In the autumn the Rostovs returned to Moscow. Early in the winter +Denisov also came back and stayed with them. The first half of the +winter of 1806, which Nicholas Rostov spent in Moscow, was one of +the happiest, merriest times for him and the whole family. Nicholas +brought many young men to his parents' house. Vera was a handsome girl +of twenty; Sonya a girl of sixteen with all the charm of an opening +flower; Natasha, half grown up and half child, was now childishly +amusing, now girlishly enchanting. + +At that time in the Rostovs' house there prevailed an amorous +atmosphere characteristic of homes where there are very young and very +charming girls. Every young man who came to the house- seeing those +impressionable, smiling young faces (smiling probably at their own +happiness), feeling the eager bustle around him, and hearing the +fitful bursts of song and music and the inconsequent but friendly +prattle of young girls ready for anything and full of hope- +experienced the same feeling; sharing with the young folk of the +Rostovs' household a readiness to fall in love and an expectation of +happiness. + +Among the young men introduced by Rostov one of the first was +Dolokhov, whom everyone in the house liked except Natasha. She +almost quarreled with her brother about him. She insisted that he +was a bad man, and that in the duel with Bezukhov, Pierre was right +and Dolokhov wrong, and further that he was disagreeable and +unnatural. + +"There's nothing for me to understand," cried out with resolute +self-will, "he is wicked and heartless. There now, I like your Denisov +though he is a rake and all that, still I like him; so you see I do +understand. I don't know how to put it... with this one everything +is calculated, and I don't like that. But Denisov..." + +"Oh, Denisov is quite different," replied Nicholas, implying that +even Denisov was nothing compared to Dolokhov- "you must understand +what a soul there is in Dolokhov, you should see him with his +mother. What a heart!" + +"Well, I don't know about that, but I am uncomfortable with him. And +do you know he has fallen in love with Sonya?" + +"What nonsense..." + +"I'm certain of it; you'll see." + +Natasha's prediction proved true. Dolokhov, who did not usually care +for the society of ladies, began to come often to the house, and the +question for whose sake he came (though no one spoke of it) was soon +settled. He came because of Sonya. And Sonya, though she would never +have dared to say so, knew it and blushed scarlet every time +Dolokhov appeared. + +Dolokhov often dined at the Rostovs', never missed a performance +at which they were present, and went to Iogel's balls for young people +which the Rostovs always attended. He was pointedly attentive to Sonya +and looked at her in such a way that not only could she not bear his +glances without coloring, but even the old countess and Natasha +blushed when they saw his looks. + +It was evident that this strange, strong man was under the +irresistible influence of the dark, graceful girl who loved another. + +Rostov noticed something new in Dolokhov's relations with Sonya, but +he did not explain to himself what these new relations were. +"They're always in love with someone," he thought of Sonya and +Natasha. But he was not as much at ease with Sonya and Dolokhov as +before and was less frequently at home. + +In the autumn of 1806 everybody had again begun talking of the war +with Napoleon with even greater warmth than the year before. Orders +were given to raise recruits, ten men in every thousand for the +regular army, and besides this, nine men in every thousand for the +militia. Everywhere Bonaparte was anathematized and in Moscow +nothing but the coming war was talked of. For the Rostov family the +whole interest of these preparations for war lay in the fact that +Nicholas would not hear of remaining in Moscow, and only awaited the +termination of Denisov's furlough after Christmas to return with him +to their regiment. His approaching departure did not prevent his +amusing himself, but rather gave zest to his pleasures. He spent the +greater part of his time away from home, at dinners, parties, and +balls. + +CHAPTER XI + +On the third day after Christmas Nicholas dined at home, a thing +he had rarely done of late. It was a grand farewell dinner, as he +and Denisov were leaving to join their regiment after Epiphany. +About twenty people were present, including Dolokhov and Denisov. + +Never had love been so much in the air, and never had the amorous +atmosphere made itself so strongly felt in the Rostovs' house as at +this holiday time. "Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved! +That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly. It is the +one thing we are interested in here," said the spirit of the place. + +Nicholas, having as usual exhausted two pairs of horses, without +visiting all the places he meant to go to and where he had been +invited, returned home just before dinner. As soon as he entered he +noticed and felt the tension of the amorous air in the house, and also +noticed a curious embarrassment among some of those present. Sonya, +Dolokhov, and the old countess were especially disturbed, and to a +lesser degree Natasha. Nicholas understood that something must have +happened between Sonya and Dolokhov before dinner, and with the kindly +sensitiveness natural to him was very gentle and wary with them both +at dinner. On that same evening there was to be one of the balls +that Iogel (the dancing master) gave for his pupils durings the +holidays. + +"Nicholas, will you come to Iogel's? Please do!" said Natasha. "He +asked you, and Vasili Dmitrich~^ is also going." + +^~ Denisov. + +"Where would I not go at the countess' command!" said Denisov, who +at the Rostovs' had jocularly assumed the role of Natasha's knight. +"I'm even weady to dance the pas de chale." + +"If I have time," answered Nicholas. "But I promised the +Arkharovs; they have a party." + +"And you?" he asked Dolokhov, but as soon as he had asked the +question he noticed that it should not have been put. + +"Perhaps," coldly and angrily replied Dolokhov, glancing at Sonya, +and, scowling, he gave Nicholas just such a look as he had given +Pierre at the Club dinner. + +"There is something up," thought Nicholas, and he was further +confirmed in this conclusion by the fact that Dolokhov left +immediately after dinner. He called Natasha and asked her what was the +matter. + +"And I was looking for you," said Natasha running out to him. "I +told you, but you would not believe it," she said triumphantly. "He +has proposed to Sonya!" + +Little as Nicholas had occupied himself with Sonya of late, +something seemed to give way within him at this news. Dolokhov was a +suitable and in some respects a brilliant match for the dowerless, +orphan girl. From the point of view of the old countess and of society +it was out of the question for her to refuse him. And therefore +Nicholas' first feeling on hearing the news was one of anger with +Sonya.... He tried to say, "That's capital; of course she'll forget +her childish promises and accept the offer," but before he had time to +say it Natasha began again. + +"And fancy! she refused him quite definitely!" adding, after a +pause, "she told him she loved another." + +"Yes, my Sonya could not have done otherwise!" thought Nicholas. + +"Much as Mamma pressed her, she refused, and I know she won't change +once she has said..." + +"And Mamma pressed her!" said Nicholas reproachfully. + +"Yes," said Natasha. "Do you know, Nicholas- don't be angry- but I +know you will not marry her. I know, heaven knows how, but I know +for certain that you won't marry her." + +"Now don't know that at all!" said Nicholas. "But I must talk to +her. What a darling Sonya is!" he added with a smile. + +"Ah, she is indeed a darling! I'll send her to you." + +And Natasha kissed her brother and ran away. + +A minute later Sonya came in with a frightened, guilty, and scared +look. Nicholas went up to her and kissed her hand. This was the +first time since his return that they had talked alone and about their +love. + +"Sophie," he began, timidly at first and then more and more +boldly, "if you wish to refuse one who is not only a brilliant and +advantageous match but a splendid, noble fellow... he is my friend..." + +Sonya interrupted him. + +"I have already refused," she said hurriedly. + +"If you are refusing for my sake, I am afraid that I..." + +Sonya again interrupted. She gave him an imploring, frightened look. + +"Nicholas, don't tell me that!" she said. + +"No, but I must. It may be arrogant of me, but still it is best to +say it. If you refuse him on my account, I must tell you the whole +truth. I love you, and I think I love you more than anyone else...." + +"That is enough for me," said Sonya, blushing. + +"No, but I have been in love a thousand times and shall fall in love +again, though for no one have I such a feeling of friendship, +confidence, and love as I have for you. Then I am young. Mamma does +not wish it. In a word, I make no promise. And I beg you to consider +Dolokhov's offer," he said, articulating his friend's name with +difficulty. + +"Don't say that to me! I want nothing. I love you as a brother and +always shall, and I want nothing more." + +"You are an angel: I am not worthy of you, but I am afraid of +misleading you." + +And Nicholas again kissed her hand. + +CHAPTER XII + +Iogel's were the most enjoyable balls in Moscow. So said the mothers +as they watched their young people executing their newly learned +steps, and so said the youths and maidens themselves as they danced +till they were ready to drop, and so said the grown-up young men and +women who came to these balls with an air of condescension and found +them most enjoyable. That year two marriages had come of these +balls. The two pretty young Princesses Gorchakov met suitors there and +were married and so further increased the fame of these dances. What +distinguished them from others was the absence of host or hostess +and the presence of the good-natured Iogel, flying about like a +feather and bowing according to the rules of his art, as he +collected the tickets from all his visitors. There was the fact that +only those came who wished to dance and amuse themselves as girls of +thirteen and fourteen do who are wearing long dresses for the first +time. With scarcely any exceptions they all were, or seemed to be, +pretty- so rapturous were their smiles and so sparkling their eyes. +Sometimes the best of the pupils, of whom Natasha, who was +exceptionally graceful, was first, even danced the pas de chale, but +at this last ball only the ecossaise, the anglaise, and the mazurka, +which was just coming into fashion, were danced. Iogel had taken a +ballroom in Bezukhov's house, and the ball, as everyone said, was a +great success. There were many pretty girls and the Rostov girls +were among the prettiest. They were both particularly happy and gay. +That evening, proud of Dolokhov's proposal, her refusal, and her +explanation with Nicholas, Sonya twirled about before she left home so +that the maid could hardly get her hair plaited, and she was +transparently radiant with impulsive joy. + +Natasha no less proud of her first long dress and of being at a real +ball was even happier. They were both dressed in white muslin with +pink ribbons. + +Natasha fell in love the very moment she entered the ballroom. She +was not in love with anyone in particular, but with everyone. Whatever +person she happened to look at she was in love with for that moment. + +"Oh, how delightful it is!" she kept saying, running up to Sonya. + +Nicholas and Denisov were walking up and down, looking with kindly +patronage at the dancers. + +"How sweet she is- she will be a weal beauty!" said Denisov. + +"Who?" + +"Countess Natasha," answered Denisov. + +"And how she dances! What gwace!" he said again after a pause. + +"Who are you talking about?" + +"About your sister," ejaculated Denisov testily. + +Rostov smiled. + +"My dear count, you were one of my best pupils- you must dance," +said little Iogel coming up to Nicholas. "Look how many charming young +ladies-" He turned with the same request to Denisov who was also a +former pupil of his. + +"No, my dear fellow, I'll be a wallflower," said Denisov. "Don't you +wecollect what bad use I made of your lessons?" + +"Oh no!" said Iogel, hastening to reassure him. "You were only +inattentive, but you had talent- oh yes, you had talent!" + +The band struck up the newly introduced mazurka. Nicholas could not +refuse Iogel and asked Sonya to dance. Denisov sat down by the old +ladies and, leaning on his saber and beating time with his foot, +told them something funny and kept them amused, while he watched the +young people dancing, Iogel with Natasha, his pride and his best +pupil, were the first couple. Noiselessly, skillfully stepping with +his little feet in low shoes, Iogel flew first across the hall with +Natasha, who, though shy, went on carefully executing her steps. +Denisov did not take his eyes off her and beat time with his saber +in a way that clearly indicated that if he was not dancing it was +because he would not and not because he could not. In the middle of +a figure he beckoned to Rostov who was passing: + +"This is not at all the thing," he said. "What sort of Polish +mazuwka is this? But she does dance splendidly." + +Knowing that Denisov had a reputation even in Poland for the +masterly way in which he danced the mazurka, Nicholas ran up to +Natasha: + +"Go and choose Denisov. He is a real dancer, a wonder!" he said. + +When it came to Natasha's turn to choose a partner, she rose and, +tripping rapidly across in her little shoes trimmed with bows, ran +timidly to the corner where Denisov sat. She saw that everybody was +looking at her and waiting. Nicholas saw that Denisov was refusing +though he smiled delightedly. He ran up to them. + +"Please, Vasili Dmitrich," Natasha was saying, "do come!" + +"Oh no, let me off, Countess," Denisov replied. + +"Now then, Vaska," said Nicholas. + +"They coax me as if I were Vaska the cat!" said Denisov jokingly. + +"I'll sing for you a whole evening," said Natasha. + +"Oh, the faiwy! She can do anything with me!" said Denisov, and he +unhooked his saber. He came out from behind the chairs, clasped his +partner's hand firmly, threw back his head, and advanced his foot, +waiting for the beat. Only on horse back and in the mazurka was +Denisov's short stature not noticeable and he looked the fine fellow +he felt himself to be. At the right beat of the music he looked +sideways at his partner with a merry and triumphant air, suddenly +stamped with one foot, bounded from the floor like a ball, and flew +round the room taking his partner with him. He glided silently on +one foot half across the room, and seeming not to notice the chairs +was dashing straight at them, when suddenly, clinking his spurs and +spreading out his legs, he stopped short on his heels, stood so a +second, stamped on the spot clanking his spurs, whirled rapidly round, +and, striking his left heel against his right, flew round again in a +circle. Natasha guessed what he meant to do, and abandoning herself to +him followed his lead hardly knowing how. First he spun her round, +holding her now with his left, now with his right hand, then falling +on one knee he twirled her round him, and again jumping up, dashed +so impetuously forward that it seemed as if he would rush through +the whole suite of rooms without drawing breath, and then he +suddenly stopped and performed some new and unexpected steps. When +at last, smartly whirling his partner round in front of her chair, +he drew up with a click of his spurs and bowed to her, Natasha did not +even make him a curtsy. She fixed her eyes on him in amazement, +smiling as if she did not recognize him. + +"What does this mean?" she brought out. + +Although Iogel did not acknowledge this to be the real mazurka, +everyone was delighted with Denisov's skill, he was asked again and +again as a partner, and the old men began smilingly to talk about +Poland and the good old days. Denisov, flushed after the mazurka and +mopping himself with his handkerchief, sat down by Natasha and did not +leave her for the rest of the evening. + +CHAPTER XIII + +For two days after that Rostov did not see Dolokhov at his own or at +Dolokhov's home: on the third day he received a note from him: + +As I do not intend to be at your house again for reasons you know +of, and am going to rejoin my regiment, I am giving a farewell +supper tonight to my friends- come to the English Hotel. + +About ten o'clock Rostov went to the English Hotel straight from the +theater, where he had been with his family and Denisov. He was at once +shown to the best room, which Dolokhov had taken for that evening. +Some twenty men were gathered round a table at which Dolokhov sat +between two candles. On the table was a pile of gold and paper +money, and he was keeping the bank. Rostov had not seen him since +his proposal and Sonya's refusal and felt uncomfortable at the thought +of how they would meet. + +Dolokhov's clear, cold glance met Rostov as soon as he entered the +door, as though he had long expected him. + +"It's a long time since we met," he said. "Thanks for coming. I'll +just finish dealing, and then Ilyushka will come with his chorus." + +"I called once or twice at your house," said Rostov, reddening. + +Dolokhov made no reply. + +"You may punt," he said. + +Rostov recalled at that moment a strange conversation he had once +had with Dolokhov. "None but fools trust to luck in play," Dolokhov +had then said. + +"Or are you afraid to play with me?" Dolokhov now asked as if +guessing Rostov's thought. + +Beneath his smile Rostov saw in him the mood he had shown at the +Club dinner and at other times, when as if tired of everyday life he +had felt a need to escape from it by some strange, and usually +cruel, action. + +Rostov felt ill at ease. He tried, but failed, to find some joke +with which to reply to Dolokhov's words. But before he had thought +of anything, Dolokhov, looking straight in his face, said slowly and +deliberately so that everyone could hear: + +"Do you remember we had a talk about cards... 'He's a fool who +trusts to luck, one should make certain,' and I want to try." + +"To try his luck or the certainty?" Rostov asked himself. + +"Well, you'd better not play," Dolokhov added, and springing a new +pack of cards said: "Bank, gentlemen!" + +Moving the money forward he prepared to deal. Rostov sat down by his +side and at first did not play. Dolokhov kept glancing at him. + +"Why don't you play?" he asked. + +And strange to say Nicholas felt that he could not help taking up +a card, putting a small stake on it, and beginning to play. + +"I have no money with me," he said. + +"I'll trust you." + +Rostov staked five rubles on a card and lost, staked again, and +again lost. Dolokhov "killed," that is, beat, ten cards of Rostov's +running. + +"Gentlemen," said Dolokhov after he had dealt for some time. "Please +place your money on the cards or I may get muddled in the reckoning." + +One of the players said he hoped he might be trusted. + +"Yes, you might, but I am afraid of getting the accounts mixed. So I +ask you to put the money on your cards," replied Dolokhov. "Don't +stint yourself, we'll settle afterwards," he added, turning to Rostov. + +The game continued; a waiter kept handing round champagne. + +All Rostov's cards were beaten and he had eight hundred rubles +scored up against him. He wrote "800 rubles" on a card, but while +the waiter filled his glass he changed his mind and altered it to +his usual stake of twenty rubles. + +"Leave it," said Dolokhov, though he did not seem to be even looking +at Rostov, "you'll win it back all the sooner. I lose to the others +but win from you. Or are you afraid of me?" he asked again. + +Rostov submitted. He let the eight hundred remain and laid down a +seven of hearts with a torn corner, which he had picked up from the +floor. He well remembered that seven afterwards. He laid down the +seven of hearts, on which with a broken bit of chalk he had written +"800 rubles" in clear upright figures; he emptied the glass of warm +champagne that was handed him, smiled at Dolokhov's words, and with +a sinking heart, waiting for a seven to turn up, gazed at Dolokhov's +hands which held the pack. Much depended on Rostov's winning or losing +on that seven of hearts. On the previous Sunday the old count had +given his son two thousand rubles, and though he always disliked +speaking of money difficulties had told Nicholas that this was all +he could let him have till May, and asked him to be more economical +this time. Nicholas had replied that it would be more than enough +for him and that he gave his word of honor not to take anything more +till the spring. Now only twelve hundred rubles was left of that +money, so that this seven of hearts meant for him not only the loss of +sixteen hundred rubles, but the necessity of going back on his word. +With a sinking heart he watched Dolokhov's hands and thought, "Now +then, make haste and let me have this card and I'll take my cap and +drive home to supper with Denisov, Natasha, and Sonya, and will +certainly never touch a card again." At that moment his home life, +jokes with Petya, talks with Sonya, duets with Natasha, piquet with +his father, and even his comfortable bed in the house on the +Povarskaya rose before him with such vividness, clearness, and charm +that it seemed as if it were all a lost and unappreciated bliss, +long past. He could not conceive that a stupid chance, letting the +seven be dealt to the right rather than to the left, might deprive him +of all this happiness, newly appreciated and newly illumined, and +plunge him into the depths of unknown and undefined misery. That could +not be, yet he awaited with a sinking heart the movement of Dolokhov's +hands. Those broad, reddish hands, with hairy wrists visible from +under the shirt cuffs, laid down the pack and took up a glass and a +pipe that were handed him. + +"So you are not afraid to play with me?" repeated Dolokhov, and as +if about to tell a good story he put down the cards, leaned back in +his chair, and began deliberately with a smile: + +"Yes, gentlemen, I've been told there's a rumor going about Moscow +that I'm a sharper, so I advise you to be careful." + +"Come now, deal!" exclaimed Rostov. + +"Oh, those Moscow gossips!" said Dolokhov, and he took up the +cards with a smile. + +"Aah!" Rostov almost screamed lifting both hands to his head. The +seven he needed was lying uppermost, the first card in the pack. He +had lost more than he could pay. + +"Still, don't ruin yourself!" said Dolokhov with a side glance at +Rostov as he continued to deal. + +CHAPTER XIV + +An hour and a half later most of the players were but little +interested in their own play. + +The whole interest was concentrated on Rostov. Instead of sixteen +hundred rubles he had a long column of figures scored against him, +which he had reckoned up to ten thousand, but that now, as he +vaguely supposed, must have risen to fifteen thousand. In reality it +already exceeded twenty thousand rubles. Dolokhov was no longer +listening to stories or telling them, but followed every movement of +Rostov's hands and occasionally ran his eyes over the score against +him. He had decided to play until that score reached forty-three +thousand. He had fixed on that number because forty-three was the +sum of his and Sonya's joint ages. Rostov, leaning his head on both +hands, sat at the table which was scrawled over with figures, wet with +spilled wine, and littered with cards. One tormenting impression did +not leave him: that those broad-boned reddish hands with hairy +wrists visible from under the shirt sleeves, those hands which he +loved and hated, held him in their power. + +"Six hundred rubles, ace, a corner, a nine... winning it back's +impossible... Oh, how pleasant it was at home!... The knave, double or +quits... it can't be!... And why is he doing this to me?" Rostov +pondered. Sometimes he staked a large sum, but Dolokhov refused to +accept it and fixed the stake himself. Nicholas submitted to him, +and at one moment prayed to God as he had done on the battlefield at +the bridge over the Enns, and then guessed that the card that came +first to hand from the crumpled heap under the table would save him, +now counted the cords on his coat and took a card with that number and +tried staking the total of his losses on it, then he looked round +for aid from the other players, or peered at the now cold face of +Dolokhov and tried to read what was passing in his mind. + +"He knows of course what this loss means to me. He can't want my +ruin. Wasn't he my friend? Wasn't I fond of him? But it's not his +fault. What's he to do if he has such luck?... And it's not my fault +either," he thought to himself, "I have done nothing wrong. Have I +killed anyone, or insulted or wished harm to anyone? Why such a +terrible misfortune? And when did it begin? Such a little while ago +I came to this table with the thought of winning a hundred rubles to +buy that casket for Mamma's name day and then going home. I was so +happy, so free, so lighthearted! And I did not realize how happy I +was! When did that end and when did this new, terrible state of things +begin? What marked the change? I sat all the time in this same place +at this table, chose and placed cards, and watched those broad-boned +agile hands in the same way. When did it happen and what has happened? +I am well and strong and still the same and in the same place. No, +it can't be! Surely it will all end in nothing!" + +He was flushed and bathed in perspiration, though the room was not +hot. His face was terrible and piteous to see, especially from its +helpless efforts to seem calm. + +The score against him reached the fateful sum of forty-three +thousand. Rostov had just prepared a card, by bending the corner of +which he meant to double the three thousand just put down to his +score, when Dolokhov, slamming down the pack of cards, put it aside +and began rapidly adding up the total of Rostov's debt, breaking the +chalk as he marked the figures in his clear, bold hand. + +"Supper, it's time for supper! And here are the gypsies!" + +Some swarthy men and women were really entering from the cold +outside and saying something in their gypsy accents. Nicholas +understood that it was all over; but he said in an indifferent tone: + +"Well, won't you go on? I had a splendid card all ready," as if it +were the fun of the game which interested him most. + +"It's all up! I'm lost!" thought he. "Now a bullet through my brain- +that's all that's left me! " And at the same time he said in a +cheerful voice: + +"Come now, just this one more little card!" + +"All right!" said Dolokhov, having finished the addition. "All +right! Twenty-one rubles," he said, pointing to the figure +twenty-one by which the total exceeded the round sum of forty-three +thousand; and taking up a pack he prepared to deal. Rostov +submissively unbent the corner of his card and, instead of the six +thousand he had intended, carefully wrote twenty-one. + +"It's all the same to me," he said. "I only want to see whether +you will let me win this ten, or beat it." + +Dolokhov began to deal seriously. Oh, how Rostov detested at that +moment those hands with their short reddish fingers and hairy +wrists, which held him in their power.... The ten fell to him. + +"You owe forty-three thousand, Count," said Dolokhov, and stretching +himself he rose from the table. "One does get tired sitting so +long," he added. + +"Yes, I'm tired too," said Rostov. + +Dolokhov cut him short, as if to remind him that it was not for +him to jest. + +"When am I to receive the money, Count?" + +Rostov, flushing, drew Dolokhov into the next room. + +"I cannot pay it all immediately. Will you take an I.O.U.?" he said. + +"I say, Rostov," said Dolokhov clearly, smiling and looking Nicholas +straight in the eyes, "you know the saying, 'Lucky in love, unlucky at +cards.' Your cousin is in love with you, I know." + +"Oh, it's terrible to feel oneself so in this man's power," +thought Rostov. He knew what a shock he would inflict on his father +and mother by the news of this loss, he knew what a relief it would be +to escape it all, and felt that Dolokhov knew that he could save him +from all this shame and sorrow, but wanted now to play with him as a +cat does with a mouse. + +"Your cousin..." Dolokhov started to say, but Nicholas interrupted +him. + +"My cousin has nothing to do with this and it's not necessary to +mention her!" he exclaimed fiercely. + +"Then when am I to have it?" + +"Tomorrow," replied Rostov and left the room. + +CHAPTER XV + +To say "tomorrow" and keep up a dignified tone was not difficult, +but to go home alone, see his sisters, brother, mother, and father, +confess and ask for money he had no right to after giving his word +of honor, was terrible. + +At home, they had not yet gone to bed. The young people, after +returning from the theater, had had supper and were grouped round +the clavichord. As soon as Nicholas entered, he was enfolded in that +poetic atmosphere of love which pervaded the Rostov household that +winter and, now after Dolokhov's proposal and Iogel's ball, seemed +to have grown thicker round Sonya and Natasha as the air does before a +thunderstorm. Sonya and Natasha, in the light-blue dresses they had +worn at the theater, looking pretty and conscious of it, were standing +by the clavichord, happy and smiling. Vera was playing chess with +Shinshin in the drawing room. The old countess, waiting for the return +of her husband and son, sat playing patience with the old +gentlewoman who lived in their house. Denisov, with sparkling eyes and +ruffled hair, sat at the clavichord striking chords with his short +fingers, his legs thrown back and his eyes rolling as he sang, with +his small, husky, but true voice, some verses called "Enchantress," +which he had composed, and to which he was trying to fit music: + +_1 Enchantress, say, to my forsaken lyre<br> +What magic power is this recalls me still?<br> +What spark has set my inmost soul on fire,<br> +What is this bliss that makes my fingers thrill? + +He was singing in passionate tones, gazing with gazing with his +sparkling black-agate eyes at the frightened and happy Natasha. + +"Splendid! Excellent!" exclaimed Natasha. "Another verse, she +said, without noticing Nicholas. + +"Everything's still the same with them," thought Nicholas, +glancing into the drawing room, where he saw Vera and his mother +with the old lady. + +"Ah, and here's Nicholas!" cried Natasha, running up to him. + +"Is Papa at home?" he asked. + +"I am so glad you've come!" said Natasha, without answering him. "We +are enjoying ourselves! Vasili Dmitrich is staying a day longer for my +sake! Did you know?" + +"No, Papa is not back yet," said Sonya. + +"Nicholas, have you come? Come here, dear!" called the old +countess from the drawing room. + +Nicholas went to her, kissed her hand, and sitting down silently +at her table began to watch her hands arranging the cards. From the +dancing room, they still heard the laughter and merry voices trying to +persuade Natasha to sing. + +"All wight! All wight!" shouted Denisov. "It's no good making +excuses now! It's your turn to sing the ba'cawolla- I entweat you!" + +The countess glanced at her silent son. + +"What is the matter?" she asked. + +"Oh, nothing," said he, as if weary of being continually asked the +same question. "Will Papa be back soon?" + +"I expect so." + +"Everything's the same with them. They know nothing about it! +Where am I to go?" thought Nicholas, and went again into the dancing +room where the clavichord stood. + +Sonya was sitting at the clavichord, playing the prelude to +Denisov's favorite barcarolle. Natasha was preparing to sing. +Denisov was looking at her with enraptured eyes. + +Nicholas began pacing up and down the room. + +"Why do they want to make her sing? How can she sing? There's +nothing to be happy about!" thought he. + +Sonya struck the first chord of the prelude. + +"My God, I'm a ruined and dishonored man! A bullet through my +brain is the only thing left me- not singing! " his thoughts ran on. +"Go away? But where to? It's one- let them sing!" + +He continued to pace the room, looking gloomily at Denisov and the +girls and avoiding their eyes. + +"Nikolenka, what is the matter?" Sonya's eyes fixed on him seemed to +ask. She noticed at once that something had happened to him. + +Nicholas turned away from her. Natasha too, with her quick instinct, +had instantly noticed her brother's condition. But, though she noticed +it, she was herself in such high spirits at that moment, so far from +sorrow, sadness, or self-reproach, that she purposely deceived herself +as young people often do. "No, I am too happy now to spoil my +enjoyment by sympathy with anyone's sorrow," she felt, and she said to +herself: "No, I must be mistaken, he must be feeling happy, just as +I am." + +"Now, Sonya!" she said, going to the very middle of the room, +where she considered the resonance was best. + +Having lifted her head and let her arms droop lifelessly, as +ballet dancers do, Natasha, rising energetically from her heels to her +toes, stepped to the middle of the room and stood still. + +"Yes, that's me!" she seemed to say, answering the rapt gaze with +which Denisov followed her. + +"And what is she so pleased about?" thought Nicholas, looking at his +sister. "Why isn't she dull and ashamed?" + +Natasha took the first note, her throat swelled, her chest rose, her +eyes became serious. At that moment she was oblivious of her +surroundings, and from her smiling lips flowed sounds which anyone may +produce at the same intervals hold for the same time, but which +leave you cold a thousand times and the thousand and first time thrill +you and make you weep. + +Natasha, that winter, had for the first time begun to sing +seriously, mainly because Denisov so delighted in her singing. She +no longer sang as a child, there was no longer in her singing that +comical, childish, painstaking effect that had been in it before; +but she did not yet sing well, as all the connoisseurs who heard her +said: "It is not trained, but it is a beautiful voice that must be +trained." Only they generally said this some time after she had +finished singing. While that untrained voice, with its incorrect +breathing and labored transitions, was sounding, even the connoisseurs +said nothing, but only delighted in it and wished to hear it again. In +her voice there was a virginal freshness, an unconsciousness of her +own powers, and an as yet untrained velvety softness, which so mingled +with her lack of art in singing that it seemed as if nothing in that +voice could be altered without spoiling it. + +"What is this?" thought Nicholas, listening to her with widely +opened eyes. "What has happened to her? How she is singing today!" And +suddenly the whole world centered for him on anticipation of the +next note, the next phrase, and everything in the world was divided +into three beats: "Oh mio crudele affetto."... One, two, three... one, +two, three... One... "Oh mio crudele affetto."... One, two, three... +One. "Oh, this senseless life of ours!" thought Nicholas. "All this +misery, and money, and Dolokhov, and anger, and honor- it's all +nonsense... but this is real.... Now then, Natasha, now then, dearest! +Now then, darling! How will she take that si? She's taken it! Thank +God!" And without noticing that he was singing, to strengthen the si +he sung a second, a third below the high note. "Ah, God! How fine! Did +I really take it? How fortunate!" he thought. + +Oh, how that chord vibrated, and how moved was something that was +finest in Rostov's soul! And this something was apart from +everything else in the world and above everything in the world. +"What were losses, and Dolokhov, and words of honor?... All +nonsense! One might kill and rob and yet be happy..." + +CHAPTER XVI + +It was long since Rostov had felt such enjoyment from music as he +did that day. But no sooner had Natasha finished her barcarolle than +reality again presented itself. He got up without saying a word and +went downstairs to his own room. A quarter of an hour later the old +count came in from his Club, cheerful and contented. Nicholas, hearing +him drive up, went to meet him. + +"Well- had a good time?" said the old count, smiling gaily and +proudly at his son. + +Nicholas tried to say "Yes," but could not: and he nearly burst into +sobs. The count was lighting his pipe and did not notice his son's +condition. + +"Ah, it can't be avoided!" thought Nicholas, for the first and +last time. And suddenly, in the most casual tone, which made him +feel ashamed feel of himself, he said, as if merely asking his +father to let him have the carriage to drive to town: + +"Papa, I have come on a matter of business. I was nearly forgetting. +I need some money." + +"Dear me!" said his father, who was in a specially good humor. "I +told you it would not be enough. How much?" + +"Very much," said Nicholas flushing, and with a stupid careless +smile, for which he was long unable to forgive himself, "I have lost a +little, I mean a good deal, a great deal- forty three thousand." + +"What! To whom?... Nonsense!" cried the count, suddenly reddening +with an apoplectic flush over neck and nape as old people do. + +"I promised to pay tomorrow," said Nicholas. + +"Well!..." said the old count, spreading out his arms and sinking +helplessly on the sofa. + +"It can't be helped It happens to everyone!" said the son, with a +bold, free, and easy tone, while in his soul he regarded himself as +a worthless scoundrel whose whole life could not atone for his +crime. He longed to kiss his father's hands and kneel to beg his +forgiveness, but said, in a careless and even rude voice, that it +happens to everyone! + +The old count cast down his eyes on hearing his son's words and +began bustlingly searching for something. + +"Yes, yes," he muttered, "it will be difficult, I fear, difficult to +raise... happens to everybody! Yes, who has not done it?" + +And with a furtive glance at his son's face, the count went out of +the room.... Nicholas had been prepared for resistance, but had not at +all expected this. + +"Papa! Pa-pa!" he called after him, sobbing, "forgive me!" And +seizing his father's hand, he pressed it to his lips and burst into +tears. + +While father and son were having their explanation, the mother and +daughter were having one not less important. Natasha came running to +her mother, quite excited. + +"Mamma!... Mamma!... He has made me..." + +"Made what?" + +"Made, made me an offer, Mamma! Mamma!" she exclaimed. + +The countess did not believe her ears. Denisov had proposed. To +whom? To this chit of a girl, Natasha, who not so long ago was playing +with dolls and who was still having lessons. + +"Don't, Natasha! What nonsense!" she said, hoping it was a joke. + +"Nonsense, indeed! I am telling you the fact," said Natasha +indignantly. "I come to ask you what to do, and you call it +'nonsense!'" + +The countess shrugged her shoulders. + +"If it true that Monsieur Denisov has made you a proposal, tell +him he is a fool, that's all!" + +"No, he's not a fool!" replied Natasha indignantly and seriously. + +"Well then, what do you want? You're all in love nowadays. Well, +if you are in love, marry him!" said the countess, with a laugh of +annoyance. "Good luck to you!" + +"No, Mamma, I'm not in love with him, I suppose I'm not in love with +him." + +"Well then, tell him so." + +"Mamma, are you cross? Don't be cross, dear! Is it my fault?" + +"No, but what is it, my dear? Do you want me to go and tell him?" +said the countess smiling. + +"No, I will do it myself, only tell me what to say. It's all very +well for you," said Natasha, with a responsive smile. "You should have +seen how he said it! I know he did not mean to say it, but it came out +accidently." + +"Well, all the same, you must refuse him." + +"No, I mustn't. I am so sorry for him! He's so nice." + +"Well then, accept his offer. It's high time for you to be married," +answered the countess sharply and sarcastically. + +"No, Mamma, but I'm so sorry for him. I don't know how I'm to say +it." + +"And there's nothing for you to say. I shall speak to him myself," +said the countess, indignant that they should have dared to treat this +little Natasha as grown up. + +"No, not on any account! I will tell him myself, and you'll listen +at the door," and Natasha ran across the drawing room to the dancing +hall, where Denisov was sitting on the same chair by the clavichord +with his face in his hands. + +He jumped up at the sound of her light step. + +"Nataly," he said, moving with rapid steps toward her, "decide my +fate. It is in your hands." + +"Vasili Dmitrich, I'm so sorry for you!... No, but you are so +nice... but it won't do...not that... but as a friend, I shall +always love you." + +Denisov bent over her hand and she heard strange sounds she did +not understand. She kissed his rough curly black head. At this +instant, they heard the quick rustle of the countess' dress. She +came up to them. + +"Vasili Dmitrich, I thank you for the honor," she said, with an +embarrassed voice, though it sounded severe to Denisov- "but my +daughter is so young, and I thought that, as my son's friend, you +would have addressed yourself first to me. In that case you would +not have obliged me to give this refusal." + +"Countess..." said Denisov, with downcast eyes and a guilty face. He +tried to say more, but faltered. + +Natasha could not remain calm, seeing him in such a plight. She +began to sob aloud. + +"Countess, I have done w'ong," Denisov went on in an unsteady voice, +"but believe me, I so adore your daughter and all your family that I +would give my life twice over..." He looked at the countess, and +seeing her severe face said: "Well, good-by, Countess," and kissing +her hand, he left the room with quick resolute strides, without +looking at Natasha. + +Next day Rostov saw Denisov off. He not wish to stay another day +in Moscow. All Denisov's Moscow friends gave him a farewell +entertainment at the gypsies', with the result that he had no +recollection of how he was put in the sleigh or of the first three +stages of his journey. + +After Denisov's departure, Rostov spent another fortnight in Moscow, +without going out of the house, waiting for the money his father could +not at once raise, and he spent most of his time in the girls' room. + +Sonya was more tender and devoted to him than ever. It was as if she +wanted to show him that his losses were an achievement that made her +love him all the more, but Nicholas now considered himself unworthy of +her. + +He filled the girls' albums with verses and music, and having at +last sent Dolokhov the whole forty-three thousand rubles and +received his receipt, he left at the end of November, without taking +leave of any of his acquaintances, to overtake his regiment which +was already in Poland. + +BOOK FIVE: 1806 - 07 + +CHAPTER I + +After his interview with his wife Pierre left for Petersburg. At the +Torzhok post station, either there were no horses or the postmaster +would not supply them. Pierre was obliged to wait. Without undressing, +he lay down on the leather sofa in front of a round table, put his big +feet in their overboots on the table, and began to reflect. + +"Will you have the portmanteaus brought in? And a bed got ready, and +tea?" asked his valet. + +Pierre gave no answer, for he neither heard nor saw anything. He had +begun to think of the last station and was still pondering on the same +question- one so important that he took no notice of what went on +around him. Not only was he indifferent as to whether he got to +Petersburg earlier or later, or whether he secured accommodation at +this station, but compared to the thoughts that now occupied him it +was a matter of indifference whether he remained there for a few hours +or for the rest of his life. + +The postmaster, his wife, the valet, and a peasant woman selling +Torzhok embroidery came into the room offering their services. Without +changing his careless attitude, Pierre looked at them over his +spectacles unable to understand what they wanted or how they could +go on living without having solved the problems that so absorbed +him. He had been engrossed by the same thoughts ever since the day +he returned from Sokolniki after the duel and had spent that first +agonizing, sleepless night. But now, in the solitude of the journey, +they seized him with special force. No matter what he thought about, +he always returned to these same questions which he could not solve +and yet could not cease to ask himself. It was as if the thread of the +chief screw which held his life together were stripped, so that the +screw could not get in or out, but went on turning uselessly in the +same place. + +The postmaster came in and began obsequiously to beg his +excellency to wait only two hours, when, come what might, he would let +his excellency have the courier horses. It was plain that he was lying +and only wanted to get more money from the traveler. + +"Is this good or bad?" Pierre asked himself. "It is good for me, bad +for another traveler, and for himself it's unavoidable, because he +needs money for food; the man said an officer had once given him a +thrashing for letting a private traveler have the courier horses. +But the officer thrashed him because he had to get on as quickly as +possible. And I," continued Pierre, "shot Dolokhov because I +considered myself injured, and Louis XVI was executed because they +considered him a criminal, and a year later they executed those who +executed him- also for some reason. What is bad? What is good? What +should one love and what hate? What does one live for? And what am +I? What is life, and what is death? What power governs all?" + +There was no answer to any of these questions, except one, and +that not a logical answer and not at all a reply to them. The answer +was: "You'll die and all will end. You'll die and know all, or cease +asking." But dying was also dreadful. + +The Torzhok peddler woman, in a whining voice, went on offering +her wares, especially a pair of goatskin slippers. "I have hundreds of +rubles I don't know what to do with, and she stands in her tattered +cloak looking timidly at me," he thought. "And what does she want +the money for? As if that money could add a hair's breadth to +happiness or peace of mind. Can anything in the world make her or me +less a prey to evil and death?- death which ends all and must come +today or tomorrow- at any rate, in an instant as compared with +eternity." And again he twisted the screw with the stripped thread, +and again it turned uselessly in the same place. + +His servant handed him a half-cut novel, in the form of letters, +by Madame de Souza. He began reading about the sufferings and virtuous +struggles of a certain Emilie de Mansfeld. "And why did she resist her +seducer when she loved him?" he thought. "God could not have put +into her heart an impulse that was against His will. My wife- as she +once was- did not struggle, and perhaps she was right. Nothing has +been found out, nothing discovered," Pierre again said to himself. +"All we can know is that we know nothing. And that's the height of +human wisdom." + +Everything within and around him seemed confused, senseless, and +repellent. Yet in this very repugnance to all his circumstances Pierre +found a kind of tantalizing satisfaction. + +"I make bold to ask your excellency to move a little for this +gentleman," said the postmaster, entering the room followed by another +traveler, also detained for lack of horses. + +The newcomer was a short, large-boned, yellow-faced, wrinkled old +man, with gray bushy eyebrows overhanging bright eyes of an indefinite +grayish color. + +Pierre took his feet off the table, stood up, and lay down on a +bed that had been got ready for him, glancing now and then at the +newcomer, who, with a gloomy and tired face, was wearily taking off +his wraps with the aid of his servant, and not looking at Pierre. With +a pair of felt boots on his thin bony legs, and keeping on a worn, +nankeen-covered, sheepskin coat, the traveler sat down on the sofa, +leaned back his big head with its broad temples and close-cropped +hair, and looked at Bezukhov. The stern, shrewd, and penetrating +expression of that look struck Pierre. He felt a wish to speak to +the stranger, but by the time he had made up his mind to ask him a +question about the roads, the traveler had closed his eyes. His +shriveled old hands were folded and on the finger of one of them +Pierre noticed a large cast iron ring with a seal representing a +death's head. The stranger sat without stirring, either resting or, as +it seemed to Pierre, sunk in profound and calm meditation. His servant +was also a yellow, wrinkled old man, without beard or mustache, +evidently not because he was shaven but because they had never +grown. This active old servant was unpacking the traveler's canteen +and preparing tea. He brought in a boiling samovar. When everything +was ready, the stranger opened his eyes, moved to the table, filled +a tumbler with tea for himself and one for the beardless old man to +whom he passed it. Pierre began to feel a sense of uneasiness, and the +need, even the inevitability, of entering into conversation with +this stranger. + +The servant brought back his tumbler turned upside down,~^ with an +unfinished bit of nibbled sugar, and asked if anything more would be +wanted. + +^~ To indicate he did not want more tea. + +"No. Give me the book," said the stranger. + +The servant handed him a book which Pierre took to be a devotional +work, and the traveler became absorbed in it. Pierre looked at him. +All at once the stranger closed the book, putting in a marker, and +again, leaning with his arms on the back of the sofa, sat in his +former position with his eyes shut. Pierre looked at him and had not +time to turn away when the old man, opening his eyes, fixed his steady +and severe gaze straight on Pierre's face. + +Pierre felt confused and wished to avoid that look, but the bright +old eyes attracted him irresistibly. + +CHAPTER II + +"I have the pleasure of addressing Count Bezukhov, if I am not +mistaken," said the stranger in a deliberate and loud voice. + +Pierre looked silently and inquiringly at him over his spectacles. + +"I have heard of you, my dear sir, "continued the stranger, "and +of your misfortune." He seemed to emphasize the last word, as if to +say- "Yes, misfortune! Call it what you please, I know that what +happened to you in Moscow was a misfortune."- "I regret it very +much, my dear sir." + +Pierre flushed and, hurriedly putting his legs down from the bed, +bent forward toward the old man with a forced and timid smile. + +"I have not referred to this out of curiosity, my dear sir, but +for greater reasons." + +He paused, his gaze still on Pierre, and moved aside on the sofa +by way of inviting the other to take a seat beside him. Pierre felt +reluctant to enter into conversation with this old man, but, +submitting to him involuntarily, came up and sat down beside him. + +"You are unhappy, my dear sir," the stranger continued. "You are +young and I am old. I should like to help you as far as lies in my +power." + +"Oh, yes!" said Pierre, with a forced smile. "I am very grateful +to you. Where are you traveling from?" + +The stranger's face was not genial, it was even cold and severe, but +in spite of this, both the face and words of his new acquaintance were +irresistibly attractive to Pierre. + +"But if for reason you don't feel inclined to talk to me," said +the old man, "say so, my dear sir." And he suddenly smiled, in an +unexpected and tenderly paternal way. + +"Oh no, not at all! On the contrary, I am very glad to make your +acquaintance," said Pierre. And again, glancing at the stranger's +hands, he looked more closely at the ring, with its skull- a Masonic +sign. + +"Allow me to ask," he said, "are you a Mason?" + +"Yes, I belong to the Brotherhood of the Freemasons," said the +stranger, looking deeper and deeper into Pierre's eyes. "And in +their name and my own I hold out a brotherly hand to you." + +"I am afraid," said Pierre, smiling, and wavering between the +confidence the personality of the Freemason inspired in him and his +own habit of ridiculing the Masonic beliefs- "I am afraid I am very +far from understanding- how am I to put it?- I am afraid my way of +looking at the world is so opposed to yours that we shall not +understand one another." + +"I know your outlook," said the Mason, "and the view of life you +mention, and which you think is the result of your own mental efforts, +is the one held by the majority of people, and is the invariable fruit +of pride, indolence, and ignorance. Forgive me, my dear sir, but if +I had not known it I should not have addressed you. Your view of +life is a regrettable delusion." + +"Just as I may suppose you to be deluded," said Pierre, with a faint +smile. + +"I should never dare to say that I know the truth," said the +Mason, whose words struck Pierre more and more by their precision +and firmness. "No one can attain to truth by himself. Only by laying +stone on stone with the cooperation of all, by the millions of +generations from our forefather Adam to our own times, is that +temple reared which is to be a worthy dwelling place of the Great +God," he added, and closed his eyes. + +"I ought to tell you that I do not believe... do not believe in God, +said Pierre, regretfully and with an effort, feeling it essential to +speak the whole truth. + +The Mason looked intently at Pierre and smiled as a rich man with +millions in hand might smile at a poor fellow who told him that he, +poor man, had not the five rubles that would make him happy. + +"Yes, you do not know Him, my dear sir," said the Mason. "You cannot +know Him. You do not know Him and that is why you are unhappy." + +"Yes, yes, I am unhappy," assented Pierre. "But what am I to do?" + +"You know Him not, my dear sir, and so you are very unhappy. You +do not know Him, but He is here, He is in me, He is in my words, He is +in thee, and even in those blasphemous words thou hast just +uttered!" pronounced the Mason in a stern and tremulous voice. + +He paused and sighed, evidently trying to calm himself. + +"If He were not," he said quietly, "you and I would not be +speaking of Him, my dear sir. Of what, of whom, are we speaking? +Whom hast thou denied?" he suddenly asked with exulting austerity +and authority in his voice. "Who invented Him, if He did not exist? +Whence came thy conception of the existence of such an +incomprehensible Being? didst thou, and why did the whole world, +conceive the idea of the existence of such an incomprehensible +Being, a Being all-powerful, eternal, and infinite in all His +attributes?..." + +He stopped and remained silent for a long time. + +Pierre could not and did not wish to break this silence. + +"He exists, but to understand Him is hard," the Mason began again, +looking not at Pierre but straight before him, and turning the +leaves of his book with his old hands which from excitement he could +not keep still. "If it were a man whose existence thou didst doubt I +could bring him to thee, could take him by the hand and show him to +thee. But how can I, an insignificant mortal, show His omnipotence, +His infinity, and all His mercy to one who is blind, or who shuts +his eyes that he may not see or understand Him and may not see or +understand his own vileness and sinfulness?" He paused again. "Who art +thou? Thou dreamest that thou art wise because thou couldst utter +those blasphemous words," he went on, with a somber and scornful +smile. "And thou art more foolish and unreasonable than a little +child, who, playing with the parts of a skillfully made watch, dares +to say that, as he does not understand its use, he does not believe in +the master who made it. To know Him is hard.... For ages, from our +forefather Adam to our own day, we labor to attain that knowledge +and are still infinitely far from our aim; but in our lack of +understanding we see only our weakness and His greatness...." + +Pierre listened with swelling heart, gazing into the Mason's face +with shining eyes, not interrupting or questioning him, but +believing with his whole soul what the stranger said. Whether he +accepted the wise reasoning contained in the Mason's words, or +believed as a child believes, in the speaker's tone of conviction +and earnestness, or the tremor of the speaker's voice- which sometimes +almost broke- or those brilliant aged eyes grown old in this +conviction, or the calm firmness and certainty of his vocation, +which radiated from his whole being (and which struck Pierre +especially by contrast with his own dejection and hopelessness)- at +any rate, Pierre longed with his whole soul to believe and he did +believe, and felt a joyful sense of comfort, regeneration, and +return to life. + +"He is not to be apprehended by reason, but by life," said the +Mason. + +"I do not understand," said Pierre, feeling with dismay doubts +reawakening. He was afraid of any want of clearness, any weakness, +in the Mason's arguments; he dreaded not to be able to believe in him. +"I don't understand," he said, "how it is that the mind of man +cannot attain the knowledge of which you speak." + +The Mason smiled with his gentle fatherly smile. + +"The highest wisdom and truth are like the purest liquid we may wish +to imbibe," he said. "Can I receive that pure liquid into an impure +vessel and judge of its purity? Only by the inner purification of +myself can I retain in some degree of purity the liquid I receive." + +"Yes, yes, that is so," said Pierre joyfully. + +"The highest wisdom is not founded on reason alone, not on those +worldly sciences of physics, history, chemistry, and the like, into +which intellectual knowledge is divided. The highest wisdom is one. +The highest wisdom has but one science- the science of the whole- +the science explaining the whole creation and man's place in it. To +receive that science it is necessary to purify and renew one's inner +self, and so before one can know, it is necessary to believe and to +perfect one's self. And to attain this end, we have the light called +conscience that God has implanted in our souls." + +"Yes, yes," assented Pierre. + +"Look then at thy inner self with the eyes of the spirit, and ask +thyself whether thou art content with thyself. What hast thou attained +relying on reason only? What art thou? You are young, you are rich, +you are clever, you are well educated. And what have you done with all +these good gifts? Are you content with yourself and with your life?" + +"No, I hate my life," Pierre muttered, wincing. + +"Thou hatest it. Then change it, purify thyself; and as thou art +purified, thou wilt gain wisdom. Look at your life, my dear sir. How +have you spent it? In riotous orgies and debauchery, receiving +everything from society and giving nothing in return. You have +become the possessor of wealth. How have you used it? What have you +done for your neighbor? Have you ever thought of your tens of +thousands of slaves? Have you helped them physically and morally? +No! You have profited by their toil to lead a profligate life. That is +what you have done. Have you chosen a post in which you might be of +service to your neighbor? No! You have spent your life in idleness. +Then you married, my dear sir- took on yourself responsibility for the +guidance of a young woman; and what have you done? You have not helped +her to find the way of truth, my dear sir, but have thrust her into an +abyss of deceit and misery. A man offended you and you shot him, and +you say you do not know God and hate your life. There is nothing +strange in that, my dear sir!" + +After these words, the Mason, as if tired by his long discourse, +again leaned his arms on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. +Pierre looked at that aged, stern, motionless, almost lifeless face +and moved his lips without uttering a sound. He wished to say, "Yes, a +vile, idle, vicious life!" but dared not break the silence. + +The Mason cleared his throat huskily, as old men do, and called +his servant. + +"How about the horses?" he asked, without looking at Pierre. + +"The exchange horses have just come," answered the servant. "Will +you not rest here?" + +"No, tell them to harness." + +"Can he really be going away leaving me alone without having told me +all, and without promising to help me?" thought Pierre, rising with +downcast head; and he began to pace the room, glancing occasionally at +the Mason. "Yes, I never thought of it, but I have led a +contemptible and profligate life, though I did not like it and did not +want to," thought Pierre. "But this man knows the truth and, if he +wished to, could disclose it to me." + +Pierre wished to say this to the Mason, but did not dare to. The +traveler, having packed his things with his practiced hands, began +fastening his coat. When he had finished, he turned to Bezukhov, and +said in a tone of indifferent politeness: + +"Where are you going to now, my dear sir?" + +"I?... I'm going to Petersburg," answered Pierre, in a childlike, +hesitating voice. "I thank you. I agree with all you have said. But do +not suppose me to be so bad. With my whole soul I wish to be what +you would have me be, but I have never had help from anyone.... But it +is I, above all, who am to blame for everything. Help me, teach me, +and perhaps I may..." + +Pierre could not go on. He gulped and turned away. + +The Mason remained silent for a long time, evidently considering. + +"Help comes from God alone," he said, "but such measure of help as +our Order can bestow it will render you, my dear sir. You are going to +Petersburg. Hand this to Count Willarski" (he took out his notebook +and wrote a few words on a large sheet of paper folded in four). +"Allow me to give you a piece of advice. When you reach the capital, +first of all devote some time to solitude and self-examination and +do not resume your former way of life. And now I wish you a good +journey, my dear sir," he added, seeing that his servant had +entered... "and success." + +The traveler was Joseph Alexeevich Bazdeev, as Pierre saw from the +postmaster's book. Bazdeev had been one of the best-known Freemasons +and Martinists, even in Novikov's time. For a long while after he +had gone, Pierre did not go to bed or order horses but paced up and +down the room, pondering over his vicious past, and with a rapturous +sense of beginning anew pictured to himself the blissful, +irreproachable, virtuous future that seemed to him so easy. It +seemed to him that he had been vicious only because he had somehow +forgotten how good it is to be virtuous. Not a trace of his former +doubts remained in his soul. He firmly believed in the possibility +of the brotherhood of men united in the aim of supporting one +another in the path of virtue, and that is how Freemasonry presented +itself to him. + +CHAPTER III + +On reaching Petersburg Pierre did not let anyone know of his +arrival, he went nowhere and spent whole days in reading Thomas a +Kempis, whose book had been sent him by someone unknown. One thing +he continually realized as he read that book: the joy, hitherto +unknown to him, of believing in the possibility of attaining +perfection, and in the possibility of active brotherly love among men, +which Joseph Alexeevich had revealed to him. A week after his arrival, +the young Polish count, Willarski, whom Pierre had known slightly in +Petersburg society, came into his room one evening in the official and +ceremonious manner in which Dolokhov's second had called on him, +and, having closed the door behind him and satisfied himself that +there was nobody else in the room, addressed Pierre. + +"I have come to you with a message and an offer, Count," he said +without sitting down. "A person of very high standing in our +Brotherhood has made application for you to be received into our Order +before the usual term and has proposed to me to be your sponsor. I +consider it a sacred duty to fulfill that person's wishes. Do you wish +to enter the Brotherhood of Freemasons under my sponsorship?" + +The cold, austere tone of this man, whom he had almost always +before met at balls, amiably smiling in the society of the most +brilliant women, surprised Pierre. + +"Yes, I do wish it," said he. + +Willarski bowed his head. + +"One more question, Count," he said, "which beg you to answer in all +sincerity- not as a future Mason but as an honest man: have you +renounced your former convictions- do you believe in God?" + +Pierre considered. + +"Yes... yes, I believe in God," he said. + +"In that case..." began Willarski, but Pierre interrupted him. + +"Yes, I do believe in God," he repeated. + +"In that case we can go," said Willarski. "My carriage is at your +service." + +Willarski was silent throughout the drive. To Pierre's inquiries +as to what he must do and how he should answer, Willarski only replied +that brothers more worthy than he would test him and that Pierre had +only to tell the truth. + +Having entered the courtyard of a large house where the Lodge had +its headquarters, and having ascended a dark staircase, they entered a +small well-lit anteroom where they took off their cloaks without the +aid of a servant. From there they passed into another room. A man in +strange attire appeared at the door. Willarski, stepping toward him, +said something to him in French in an undertone and then went up to +a small wardrobe in which Pierre noticed garments such as he had never +seen before. Having taken a kerchief from the cupboard, Willarski +bound Pierre's eyes with it and tied it in a knot behind, catching +some hairs painfully in the knot. Then he drew his face down, kissed +him, and taking him by the hand led him forward. The hairs tied in the +knot hurt Pierre and there were lines of pain on his face and a +shamefaced smile. His huge figure, with arms hanging down and with a +puckered, though smiling face, moved after Willarski with uncertain, +timid steps. + +Having led him about ten paces, Willarski stopped. + +"Whatever happens to you," he said, "you must bear it all manfully +if you have firmly resolved to join our Brotherhood." (Pierre nodded +affirmatively.) "When you hear a knock at the door, you will uncover +your eyes," added Willarski. "I wish you courage and success," and, +pressing Pierre's hand, he went out. + +Left alone, Pierre went on smiling in the same way. Once or twice he +shrugged his and raised his hand to the kerchief, as if wishing to +take it off, but let it drop again. The five minutes spent with his +eyes bandaged seemed to him an hour. His arms felt numb, his legs +almost gave way, it seemed to him that he was tired out. He +experienced a variety of most complex sensations. He felt afraid of +what would happen to him and still more afraid of showing his fear. He +felt curious to know what was going to happen and what would be +revealed to him; but most of all, he felt joyful that the moment had +come when he would at last start on that path of regeneration and on +the actively virtuous life of which he had been dreaming since he +met Joseph Alexeevich. Loud knocks were heard at the door. Pierre took +the bandage off his eyes and glanced around him. The room was in black +darkness, only a small lamp was burning inside something white. Pierre +went nearer and saw that the lamp stood on a black table on which +lay an open book. The book was the Gospel, and the white thing with +the lamp inside was a human skull with its cavities and teeth. After +reading the first words of the Gospel: "In the beginning was the +Word and the Word was with God," Pierre went round the table and saw a +large open box filled with something. It was a coffin with bones +inside. He was not at all surprised by what he saw. Hoping to enter on +an entirely new life quite unlike the old one, he expected +everything to be unusual, even more unusual than what he was seeing. A +skull, a coffin, the Gospel- it seemed to him that he had expected all +this and even more. Trying to stimulate his emotions he looked around. +"God, death, love, the brotherhood of man," he kept saying to himself, +associating these words with vague yet joyful ideas. The door opened +and someone came in. + +By the dim light, to which Pierre had already become accustomed, +he saw rather short man. Having evidently come from the light into the +darkness, the man paused, then moved with cautious steps toward the +table and placed on it his small leather-gloved hands. + +This short man had on a white leather apron which covered his +chest and part of his legs; he had on a kind of necklace above which +rose a high white ruffle, outlining his rather long face which was lit +up from below. + +"For what have you come hither?" asked the newcomer, turning in +Pierre's direction at a slight rustle made by the latter. "Why have +you, who do not believe in the truth of the light and who have not +seen the light, come here? What do you seek from us? Wisdom, virtue, +enlightenment?" + +At the moment the door opened and the stranger came in, Pierre +felt a sense of awe and veneration such as he had experienced in his +boyhood at confession; he felt himself in the presence of one socially +a complete stranger, yet nearer to him through the brotherhood of man. +With bated breath and beating heart he moved toward the Rhetor (by +which name the brother who prepared a seeker for entrance into the +Brotherhood was known). Drawing nearer, he recognized in the Rhetor +a man he knew, Smolyaninov, and it mortified him to think that the +newcomer was an acquaintance- he wished him simply a brother and a +virtuous instructor. For a long time he could not utter a word, so +that the Rhetor had to repeat his question. + +"Yes... I... I... desire regeneration," Pierre uttered with +difficulty. + +"Very well," said Smolyaninov, and went on at once: "Have you any +idea of the means by which our holy Order will help you to reach +your aim?" said he quietly and quickly. + +"I... hope... for guidance... help... in regeneration," said Pierre, +with a trembling voice and some difficulty in utterance due to his +excitement and to being unaccustomed to speak of abstract matters in +Russian. + +"What is your conception of Freemasonry?" + +"I imagine that Freemasonry is the fraternity and equality of men +who have virtuous aims," said Pierre, feeling ashamed of the +inadequacy of his words for the solemnity of the moment, as he +spoke. "I imagine..." + +"Good!" said the Rhetor quickly, apparently satisfied with this +answer. "Have you sought for means of attaining your aim in religion?" + +"No, I considered it erroneous and did not follow it," said +Pierre, so softly that the Rhetor did not hear him and asked him +what he was saying. "I have been an atheist," answered Pierre. + +"You are seeking for truth in order to follow its laws in your life, +therefore you seek wisdom and virtue. Is that not so?" said the +Rhetor, after a moment's pause. + +"Yes, yes," assented Pierre. + +The Rhetor cleared his throat, crossed his gloved hands on his +breast, and began to speak. + +"Now I must disclose to you the chief aim of our Order," he said, +"and if this aim coincides with yours, you may enter our Brotherhood +with profit. The first and chief object of our Order, the foundation +on which it rests and which no human power can destroy, is the +preservation and handing on to posterity of a certain important +mystery... which has come down to us from the remotest ages, even from +the first man- a mystery on which perhaps the fate of mankind depends. +But since this mystery is of such a nature that nobody can know or use +it unless he be prepared by long and diligent self-purification, not +everyone can hope to attain it quickly. Hence we have a secondary aim, +that of preparing our members as much as possible to reform their +hearts, to purify and enlighten their minds, by means handed on to +us by tradition from those who have striven to attain this mystery, +and thereby to render them capable of receiving it. + +"By purifying and regenerating our members we try, thirdly, to +improve the whole human race, offering it in our members an example of +piety and virtue, and thereby try with all our might to combat the +evil which sways the world. Think this over and I will come to you +again." + +"To combat the evil which sways the world..." Pierre repeated, and a +mental image of his future activity in this direction rose in his +mind. He imagined men such as he had himself been a fortnight ago, and +he addressed an edifying exhortation to them. He imagined to himself +vicious and unfortunate people whom he would assist by word and +deed, imagined oppressors whose victims he would rescue. Of the +three objects mentioned by the Rhetor, this last, that of improving +mankind, especially appealed to Pierre. The important mystery +mentioned by the Rhetor, though it aroused his curiosity, did not seem +to him essential, and the second aim, that of purifying and +regenerating himself, did not much interest him because at that moment +he felt with delight that he was already perfectly cured of his former +faults and was ready for all that was good. + +Half an hour later, the Rhetor returned to inform the seeker of +the seven virtues, corresponding to the seven steps of Solomon's +temple, which every Freemason should cultivate in himself. These +virtues were: 1. Discretion, the keeping of the secrets of the Order. +2. Obedience to those of higher ranks in the Order. 3. Morality. 4. +Love of mankind. 5. Courage. 6. Generosity. 7. The love of death. + +"In the seventh place, try, by the frequent thought of death," the +Rhetor said, "to bring yourself to regard it not as a dreaded foe, but +as a friend that frees the soul grown weary in the labors of virtue +from this distressful life, and leads it to its place of recompense +and peace." + +"Yes, that must be so," thought Pierre, when after these words the +Rhetor went away, leaving him to solitary meditation. "It must be +so, but I am still so weak that I love my life, the meaning of which +is only now gradually opening before me." But five of the other +virtues which Pierre recalled, counting them on his fingers, he felt +already in his soul: courage, generosity, morality, love of mankind, +and especially obedience- which did not even seem to him a virtue, but +a joy. (He now felt so glad to be free from his own lawlessness and to +submit his will to those who knew the indubitable truth.) He forgot +what the seventh virtue was and could not recall it. + +The third time the Rhetor came back more quickly and asked Pierre +whether he was still firm in his intention and determined to submit to +all that would be required of him. + +"I am ready for everything," said Pierre. + +"I must also inform you," said the Rhetor, "that our Order +delivers its teaching not in words only but also by other means, which +may perhaps have a stronger effect on the sincere seeker after +wisdom and virtue than mere words. This chamber with what you see +therein should already have suggested to your heart, if it is sincere, +more than words could do. You will perhaps also see in your further +initiation a like method of enlightenment. Our Order imitates the +ancient societies that explained their teaching by hieroglyphics. A +hieroglyph," said the Rhetor, "is an emblem of something not +cognizable by the senses but which possesses qualities resembling +those of the symbol." + +Pierre knew very well what a hieroglyph was, but dared not speak. He +listened to the Rhetor in silence, feeling from all he said that his +ordeal was about to begin. + +"If you are resolved, I must begin your initiation," said the Rhetor +coming closer to Pierre. "In token of generosity I ask you to give +me all your valuables." + +"But I have nothing here," replied Pierre, supposing that he was +asked to give up all he possessed. + +"What you have with you: watch, money, rings...." + +Pierre quickly took out his purse and watch, but could not manage +for some time to get the wedding ring off his fat finger. When that +had been done, the Rhetor said: + +"In token of obedience, I ask you to undress." + +Pierre took off his coat, waistcoat, and left boot according to +the Rhetor's instructions. The Mason drew the shirt back from Pierre's +left breast, and stooping down pulled up the left leg of his +trousers to above the knee. Pierre hurriedly began taking off his +right boot also and was going to tuck up the other trouser leg to save +this stranger the trouble, but the Mason told him that was not +necessary and gave him a slipper for his left foot. With a childlike +smile of embarrassment, doubt, and self-derision, which appeared on +his face against his will, Pierre stood with his arms hanging down and +legs apart, before his brother Rhetor, and awaited his further +commands. + +"And now, in token of candor, I ask you to reveal to me your chief +passion," said the latter. + +"My passion! I have had so many," replied Pierre. + +"That passion which more than all others caused you to waver on +the path of virtue," said the Mason. + +Pierre paused, seeking a reply. + +"Wine? Gluttony? Idleness? Laziness? Irritability? Anger? Women?" He +went over his vices in his mind, not knowing to which of them to +give the pre-eminence. + +"Women," he said in a low, scarcely audible voice. + +The Mason did not move and for a long time said nothing after this +answer. At last he moved up to Pierre and, taking the kerchief that +lay on the table, again bound his eyes. + +"For the last time I say to you- turn all your attention upon +yourself, put a bridle on your senses, and seek blessedness, not in +passion but in your own heart. The source of blessedness is not +without us but within...." + +Pierre had already long been feeling in himself that refreshing +source of blessedness which now flooded his heart with glad emotion. + +CHAPTER IV + +Soon after this there came into the dark chamber to fetch Pierre, +not the Rhetor but Pierre's sponsor, Willarski, whom he recognized +by his voice. To fresh questions as to the firmness of his +resolution Pierre replied: "Yes, yes, I agree," and with a beaming, +childlike smile, his fat chest uncovered, stepping unevenly and +timidly in one slippered and one booted foot, he advanced, while +Willarski held a sword to his bare chest. He was conducted from that +room along passages that turned backwards and forwards and was at last +brought to the doors of the Lodge. Willarski coughed, he was +answered by the Masonic knock with mallets, the doors opened before +them. A bass voice (Pierre was still blindfold) questioned him as to +who he was, when and where he was born, and so on. Then he was again +led somewhere still blindfold, and as they went along he was told +allegories of the toils of his pilgrimage, of holy friendship, of +the Eternal Architect of the universe, and of the courage with which +he should endure toils and dangers. During these wanderings, Pierre +noticed that he was spoken of now as the "Seeker," now as the +"Sufferer," and now as the "Postulant," to the accompaniment of +various knockings with mallets and swords. As he was being led up to +some object he noticed a hesitation and uncertainty among his +conductors. He heard those around him disputing in whispers and one of +them insisting that he should be led along a certain carpet. After +that they took his right hand, placed it on something, and told him to +hold a pair of compasses to his left breast with the other hand and to +repeat after someone who read aloud an oath of fidelity to the laws of +the Order. The candles were then extinguished and some spirit lighted, +as Pierre knew by the smell, and he was told that he would now see the +lesser light. The bandage was taken off his eyes and, by the faint +light of the burning spirit, Pierre, as in a dream, saw several men +standing before him, wearing aprons like the Rhetor's and holding +swords in their hands pointed at his breast. Among them stood a man +whose white shirt was stained with blood. On seeing this, Pierre moved +forward with his breast toward the swords, meaning them to pierce +it. But the swords were drawn back from him and he was at once +blindfolded again. + +"Now thou hast seen the lesser light," uttered a voice. Then the +candles were relit and he was told that he would see the full light; +the bandage was again removed and more than ten voices said +together: "Sic transit gloria mundi." + +Pierre gradually began to recover himself and looked about at the +room and at the people in it. Round a long table covered with black +sat some twelve men in garments like those he had already seen. Some +of them Pierre had met in Petersburg society. In the President's chair +sat a young man he did not know, with a peculiar cross hanging from +his neck. On his right sat the Italian abbe whom Pierre had met at +Anna Pavlovna's two years before. There were also present a very +distinguished dignitary and a Swiss who had formerly been tutor at the +Kuragins'. All maintained a solemn silence, listening to the words +of the President, who held a mallet in his hand. Let into the wall was +a star-shaped light. At one side of the table was a small carpet +with various figures worked upon it, at the other was something +resembling an altar on which lay a Testament and a skull. Round it +stood seven large candlesticks like those used in churches. Two of the +brothers led Pierre up to the altar, placed his feet at right +angles, and bade him lie down, saying that he must prostrate himself +at the Gates of the Temple. + +"He must first receive the trowel," whispered one of the brothers. + +"Oh, hush, please!" said another. + +Pierre, perplexed, looked round with his shortsighted eyes without +obeying, and suddenly doubts arose in his mind. "Where am I? What am I +doing? Aren't they laughing at me? Shan't I be ashamed to remember +this?" But these doubts only lasted a moment. Pierre glanced at the +serious faces of those around, remembered all he had already gone +through, and realized that he could not stop halfway. He was aghast at +his hesitation and, trying to arouse his former devotional feeling, +prostrated himself before the Gates of the Temple. And really, the +feeling of devotion returned to him even more strongly than before. +When he had lain there some time, he was told to get up, and a white +leather apron, such as the others wore, was put on him: he was given a +trowel and three pairs of gloves, and then the Grand Master +addressed him. He told him that he should try to do nothing to stain +the whiteness of that apron, which symbolized strength and purity; +then of the unexplained trowel, he told him to toil with it to cleanse +his own heart from vice, and indulgently to smooth with it the heart +of his neighbor. As to the first pair of gloves, a man's, he said that +Pierre could not know their meaning but must keep them. The second +pair of man's gloves he was to wear at the meetings, and finally of +the third, a pair of women's gloves, he said: "Dear brother, these +woman's gloves are intended for you too. Give them to the woman whom +you shall honor most of all. This gift will be a pledge of your purity +of heart to her whom you select to be your worthy helpmeet in +Masonry." And after a pause, he added: "But beware, dear brother, that +these gloves do not deck hands that are unclean." While the Grand +Master said these last words it seemed to Pierre that he grew +embarrassed. Pierre himself grew still more confused, blushed like a +child till tears came to his eyes, began looking about him uneasily, +and an awkward pause followed. + +This silence was broken by one of the brethren, who led Pierre up to +the rug and began reading to him from a manuscript book an explanation +of all the figures on it: the sun, the moon, a hammer, a plumb line, a +trowel, a rough stone and a squared stone, a pillar, three windows, +and so on. Then a place was assigned to Pierre, he was shown the signs +of the Lodge, told the password, and at last was permitted to sit +down. The Grand Master began reading the statutes. They were very +long, and Pierre, from joy, agitation, and embarrassment, was not in a +state to understand what was being read. He managed to follow only the +last words of the statutes and these remained in his mind. + +"In our temples we recognize no other distinctions," read the +Grand Master, "but those between virtue and vice. Beware of making any +distinctions which may infringe equality. Fly to a brother's aid +whoever he may be, exhort him who goeth astray, raise him that +falleth, never bear malice or enmity toward thy brother. Be kindly and +courteous. Kindle in all hearts the flame of virtue. Share thy +happiness with thy neighbor, and may envy never dim the purity of that +bliss. Forgive thy enemy, do not avenge thyself except by doing him +good. Thus fulfilling the highest law thou shalt regain traces of +the ancient dignity which thou hast lost." + +He finished and, getting up, embraced and kissed Pierre, who, with +tears of joy in his eyes, looked round him, not knowing how to +answer the congratulations and greetings from acquaintances that met +him on all sides. He acknowledged no acquaintances but saw in all +these men only brothers, and burned with impatience to set to work +with them. + +The Grand Master rapped with his mallet. All the Masons sat down +in their places, and one of them read an exhortation on the +necessity of humility. + +The Grand Master proposed that the last duty should be performed, +and the distinguished dignitary who bore the title of "Collector of +Alms" went round to all the brothers. Pierre would have liked to +subscribe all he had, but fearing that it might look like pride +subscribed the same amount as the others. + +The meeting was at an end, and on reaching home Pierre felt as if he +had returned from a long journey on which he had spent dozens of +years, had become completely changed, and had quite left behind his +former habits and way of life. + +CHAPTER V + +The day after he had been received into the Lodge, Pierre was +sitting at home reading a book and trying to fathom the significance +of the Square, one side of which symbolized God, another moral things, +a third physical things, and the fourth a combination of these. Now +and then his attention wandered from the book and the Square and he +formed in imagination a new plan of life. On the previous evening at +the Lodge, he had heard that a rumor of his duel had reached the +Emperor and that it would be wiser for him to leave Petersburg. Pierre +proposed going to his estates in the south and there attending to +the welfare of his serfs. He was joyfully planning this new life, when +Prince Vasili suddenly entered the room. + +"My dear fellow, what have you been up to in Moscow? Why have you +quarreled with Helene, mon cher? You are under a delusion," said +Prince Vasili, as he entered. "I know all about it, and I can tell you +positively that Helene is as innocent before you as Christ was +before the Jews." + +Pierre was about to reply, but Prince Vasili interrupted him. + +"And why didn't you simply come straight to me as to a friend? I +know all about it and understand it all," he said. "You behaved as +becomes a man values his honor, perhaps too hastily, but we won't go +into that. But consider the position in which you are placing her +and me in the eyes of society, and even of the court," he added, +lowering his voice. "She is living in Moscow and you are here. +Remember, dear boy," and he drew Pierre's arm downwards, "it is simply +a misunderstanding. I expect you feel it so yourself. Let us write her +a letter at once, and she'll come here and all will be explained, or +else, my dear boy, let me tell you it's quite likely you'll have to +suffer for it." + +Prince Vasili gave Pierre a significant look. + +"I know from reliable sources that the Dowager Empress is taking a +keen interest in the whole affair. You know she is very gracious to +Helene." + +Pierre tried several times to speak, but, on one hand, Prince Vasili +did not let him and, on the other, Pierre himself feared to begin to +speak in the tone of decided refusal and disagreement in which he +had firmly resolved to answer his father-in-law. Moreover, the words +of the Masonic statutes, "be kindly and courteous," recurred to him. +He blinked, went red, got up and sat down again, struggling with +himself to do what was for him the most difficult thing in life- to +say an unpleasant thing to a man's face, to say what the other, +whoever he might be, did not expect. He was so used to submitting to +Prince Vasili's tone of careless self-assurance that he felt he +would be unable to withstand it now, but he also felt that on what +he said now his future depended- whether he would follow the same +old road, or that new path so attractively shown him by the Masons, on +which he firmly believed he would be reborn to a new life. + +"Now, dear boy," said Prince Vasili playfully, "say 'yes,' and +I'll write to her myself, and we will kill the fatted calf." + +But before Prince Vasili had finished his playful speech, Pierre, +without looking at him, and with a kind of fury that made him like his +father, muttered in a whisper: + +"Prince, I did not ask you here. Go, please go!" And he jumped up +and opened the door for him. + +"Go!" he repeated, amazed at himself and glad to see the look of +confusion and fear that showed itself on Prince Vasili's face. + +"What's the matter with you? Are you ill?" + +"Go!" the quivering voice repeated. And Prince Vasili had to go +without receiving any explanation. + +A week later, Pierre, having taken leave of his new friends, the +Masons, and leaving large sums of money with them for alms, went +away to his estates. His new brethren gave him letters to the Kiev and +Odessa Masons and promised to write to him and guide him in his new +activity. + +CHAPTER VI + +The duel between Pierre and Dolokhov was hushed up and, in spite +of the Emperor's severity regarding duels at that time, neither the +principals nor their seconds suffered for it. But the story of the +duel, confirmed by Pierre's rupture with his wife, was the talk of +society. Pierre who had been regarded with patronizing condescension +when he was an illegitimate son, and petted and extolled when he was +the best match in Russia, had sunk greatly in the esteem of society +after his marriage- when the marriageable daughters and their +mothers had nothing to hope from him- especially as he did not know +how, and did not wish, to court society's favor. Now he alone was +blamed for what had happened, he was said to be insanely jealous and +subject like his father to fits of bloodthirsty rage. And when after +Pierre's departure Helene returned to Petersburg, she was received +by all her acquaintances not only cordially, but even with a shade +of deference due to her misfortune. When conversation turned on her +husband Helene assumed a dignified expression, which with +characteristic tact she had acquired though she did not understand its +significance. This expression suggested that she had resolved to +endure her troubles uncomplainingly and that her husband was a cross +laid upon her by God. Prince Vasili expressed his opinion more openly. +He shrugged his shoulders when Pierre was mentioned and, pointing to +his forehead, remarked: + +"A bit touched- I always said so." + +"I said from the first," declared Anna Pavlovna referring to Pierre, +"I said at the time and before anyone else" (she insisted on her +priority) "that that senseless young man was spoiled by the depraved +ideas of these days. I said so even at the time when everybody was +in raptures about him, when he had just returned from abroad, and +when, if you remember, he posed as a sort of Marat at one of my +soirees. And how has it ended? I was against this marriage even then +and foretold all that has happened." + +Anna Pavlovna continued to give on free evenings the same kind of +soirees as before- such as she alone had the gift of arranging- at +which was to be found "the cream of really good society, the bloom +of the intellectual essence of Petersburg," as she herself put it. +Besides this refined selection of society Anna Pavlovna's receptions +were also distinguished by the fact that she always presented some new +and interesting person to the visitors and that nowhere else was the +state of the political thermometer of legitimate Petersburg court +society so dearly and distinctly indicated. + +Toward the end of 1806, when all the sad details of Napoleon's +destruction of the Prussian army at Jena and Auerstadt and the +surrender of most of the Prussian fortresses had been received, when +our troops had already entered Prussia and our second war with +Napoleon was beginning, Anna Pavlovna gave one of her soirees. The +"cream of really good society" consisted of the fascinating Helene, +forsaken by her husband, Mortemart, the delightful Prince Hippolyte +who had just returned from Vienna, two diplomatists, the old aunt, a +young man referred to in that drawing room as "a man of great merit" +(un homme de beaucoup de merite), a newly appointed maid of honor +and her mother, and several other less noteworthy persons. + +The novelty Anna Pavlovna was setting before her guests that evening +was Boris Drubetskoy, who had just arrived as a special messenger from +the Prussian army and was aide-de-camp to a very important personage. + +The temperature shown by the political thermometer to the company +that evening was this: + +"Whatever the European sovereigns and commanders may do to +countenance Bonaparte, and to cause me, and us in general, annoyance +and mortification, our opinion of Bonaparte cannot alter. We shall not +cease to express our sincere views on that subject, and can only say +to the King Prussia and others: 'So much the worse for you. Tu l'as +voulu, George Dandin,' that's all we have to say about it!" + +When Boris, who was to be served up to the guests, entered the +drawing room, almost all the company had assembled, and the +conversation, guided by Anna Pavlovna, was about our diplomatic +relations with Austria and the hope of an alliance with her. + +Boris, grown more manly and looking fresh, rosy and +self-possessed, entered the drawing room elegantly dressed in the +uniform of an aide-de-camp and was duly conducted to pay his +respects to the aunt and then brought back to the general circle. + +Anna Pavlovna gave him her shriveled hand to kiss and introduced him +to several persons whom he did not know, giving him a whispered +description of each. +charge d'affaires from Copenhagen- a profound intellect," and +simply, "Mr. Shitov- a man of great merit"- this of the man usually so +described. + +Thanks to Anna Mikhaylovna's efforts, his own tastes, and the +peculiarities of his reserved nature, Boris had managed during his +service to place himself very advantageously. He was aide-de-camp to a +very important personage, had been sent on a very important mission to +Prussia, and had just returned from there as a special messenger. He +had become thoroughly conversant with that unwritten code with which +he had been so pleased at Olmutz and according to which an ensign +might rank incomparably higher than a general, and according to +which what was needed for success in the service was not effort or +work, or courage, or perseverance, but only the knowledge of how to +get on with those who can grant rewards, and he was himself often +surprised at the rapidity of his success and at the inability of +others to understand these things. In consequence of this discovery +his whole manner of life, all his relations with old friends, all +his plans for his future, were completely altered. He was not rich, +but would spend his last groat to be better dressed than others, and +would rather deprive himself of many pleasures than allow himself to +be seen in a shabby equipage or appear in the streets of Petersburg in +an old uniform. He made friends with and sought the acquaintance of +only those above him in position and who could therefore be of use +to him. He liked Petersburg and despised Moscow. The remembrance of +the Rostovs' house and of his childish love for Natasha was unpleasant +to him and he had not once been to see the Rostovs since the day of +his departure for the army. To be in Anna Pavlovna's drawing room he +considered an important step up in the service, and he at once +understood his role, letting his hostess make use of whatever interest +he had to offer. He himself carefully scanned each face, appraising +the possibilities of establishing intimacy with each of those present, +and the advantages that might accrue. He took the seat indicated to +him beside the fair Helene and listened to the general conversation. + +"Vienna considers the bases of the proposed treaty so unattainable +that not even a continuity of most brilliant successes would secure +them, and she doubts the means we have of gaining them. That is the +actual phrase used by the Vienna cabinet," said the Danish charge +d'affaires. + +"The doubt is flattering," said "the man of profound intellect," +with a subtle smile. + +"We must distinguish between the Vienna cabinet and the Emperor of +Austria," said Mortemart. "The Emperor of Austria can never have +thought of such a thing, it is only the cabinet that says it." + +"Ah, my dear vicomte," put in Anna Pavlovna, "L'Urope" (for some +reason she called it Urope as if that were a specially refined +French pronunciation which she could allow herself when conversing +with a Frenchman), "L'Urope ne sera jamais notre alliee sincere."~^ + +^~ "Europe will never be our sincere ally." + +After that Anna Pavlovna led up to the courage and firmness of the +King of Prussia, in order to draw Boris into the conversation. + +Boris listened attentively to each of the speakers, awaiting his +turn, but managed meanwhile to look round repeatedly at his +neighbor, the beautiful Helene, whose eyes several times met those +of the handsome young aide-de-camp with a smile. + +Speaking of the position of Prussia, Anna Pavlovna very naturally +asked Boris to tell them about his journey to Glogau and in what state +he found the Prussian army. Boris, speaking with deliberation, told +them in pure, correct French many interesting details about the armies +and the court, carefully abstaining from expressing an opinion of +his own about the facts he was recounting. For some time he +engrossed the general attention, and Anna Pavlovna felt that the +novelty she had served up was received with pleasure by all her +visitors. The greatest attention of all to Boris' narrative was +shown by Helene. She asked him several questions about his journey and +seemed greatly interested in the state of the Prussian army. As soon +as he had finished she turned to him with her usual smile. + +"You absolutely must come and see me," she said in a tone that +implied that, for certain considerations he could not know of, this +was absolutely necessary. + +"On Tuesday between eight and nine. It will give me great pleasure." + +Boris promised to fulfill her wish and was about to begin a +conversation with her, when Anna Pavlovna called him away on the +pretext that her aunt wished to hear him. + +"You know her husband, of course?" said Anna Pavlovna, closing her +eyes and indicating Helene with a sorrowful gesture. "Ah, she is +such an unfortunate and charming woman! Don't mention him before +her- please don't! It is too painful for her!" + +CHAPTER VII + +When Boris and Anna Pavlovna returned to the others Prince Hippolyte +had the ear of the company. + +Bending forward in his armchair he said: "Le Roi de Prusse!" and +having said this laughed. Everyone turned toward him. + +"Le Roi de Prusse?" Hippolyte said interrogatively, again +laughing, and then calmly and seriously sat back in his chair. Anna +Pavlovna waited for him to go on, but as he seemed quite decided to +say no more she began to tell of how at Potsdam the impious +Bonaparte had stolen the sword of Frederick the Great. + +"It is the sword of Frederick the Great which I..." she began, but +Hippolyte interrupted her with the words: "Le Roi de Prusse..." and +again, as soon as soon as all turned toward him, excused himself and +said no more. + +Anna Pavlovna frowned. Mortemart, Hippolyte's friend, addressed +him firmly. + +"Come now, what about your Roi de Prusse?" + +Hippolyte laughed as if ashamed of laughing. + +"Oh, it's nothing. I only wished to say..." (he wanted to repeat a +joke he had heard in Vienna and which he had been trying all that +evening to get in) "I only wished to say that we are wrong to fight +pour le Roi de Prusse!" + +Boris smiled circumspectly, so that it might be taken as ironical or +appreciative according to the way the joke was received. Everybody +laughed. + +"Your joke is too bad, it's witty but unjust," said Anna Pavlovna, +shaking her little shriveled finger at him. + +"We are not fighting pour le Roi de Prusse, but for right +principles. Oh, that wicked Prince Hippolyte!" she said. + +The conversation did not flag all evening and turned chiefly on +the political news. It became particularly animated toward the end +of the evening when the rewards bestowed by the Emperor were +mentioned. + +"You know N- N- received a snuffbox with the portrait last year?" +said "the man of profound intellect." "Why shouldn't S- S- get the +same distinction?" + +"Pardon me! A snuffbox with the Emperor's portrait is a reward but +not a distinction," said the diplomatist- "a gift, rather." + +"There are precedents, I may mention Schwarzenberg." + +"It's impossible," replied another. + +"Will you bet? The ribbon of the order is a different matter...." + +When everybody rose to go, Helene who had spoken very little all the +evening again turned to Boris, asking him in a tone of caressing +significant command to come to her on Tuesday. + +"It is of great importance to me," she said, turning with a smile +toward Anna Pavlovna, and Anna Pavlovna, with the same sad smile +with which she spoke of her exalted patroness, supported Helene's +wish. + +It seemed as if from some words Boris had spoken that evening +about the Prussian army, Helene had suddenly found it necessary to see +him. She seemed to promise to explain that necessity to him when he +came on Tuesday. + +But on Tuesday evening, having come to Helene's splendid salon, +Boris received no clear explanation of why it had been necessary for +him to come. There were other guests and the countess talked little to +him, and only as he kissed her hand on taking leave said +unexpectedly and in a whisper, with a strangely unsmiling face: +"Come to dinner tomorrow... in the evening. You must come.... Come!" + +During that stay in Petersburg, Boris became an intimate in the +countess' house. + +CHAPTER VIII + +The war was flaming up and nearing the Russian frontier. +Everywhere one heard curses on Bonaparte, "the enemy of mankind." +Militiamen and recruits were being enrolled in the villages, and +from the seat of war came contradictory news, false as usual and +therefore variously interpreted. The life of old Prince Bolkonski, +Prince Andrew, and Princess Mary had greatly changed since 1805. + +In 1806 the old prince was made one of the eight commanders in chief +then appointed to supervise the enrollment decreed throughout +Russia. Despite the weakness of age, which had become particularly +noticeable since the time when he thought his son had been killed, +he did not think it right to refuse a duty to which he had been +appointed by the Emperor himself, and this fresh opportunity for +action gave him new energy and strength. He was continually +traveling through the three provinces entrusted to him, was pedantic +in the fulfillment of his duties, severe to cruelty with his +subordinates, and went into everything down to the minutest details +himself. Princess Mary had ceased taking lessons in mathematics from +her father, and when the old prince was at home went to his study with +the wet nurse and little Prince Nicholas (as his grandfather called +him). The baby Prince Nicholas lived with his wet nurse and nurse +Savishna in the late princess' rooms and Princess Mary spent most of +the day in the nursery, taking a mother's place to her little nephew +as best she could. Mademoiselle Bourienne, too, seemed passionately +fond of the boy, and Princess Mary often deprived herself to give +her friend the pleasure of dandling the little angel- as she called +her nephew- and playing with him. + +Near the altar of the church at Bald Hills there was a chapel over +the tomb of the little princess, and in this chapel was a marble +monument brought from Italy, representing an angel with outspread +wings ready to fly upwards. The angel's upper lip was slightly +raised as though about to smile, and once on coming out of the +chapel Prince Andrew and Princess Mary admitted to one another that +the angel's face reminded them strangely of the little princess. But +what was still stranger, though of this Prince Andrew said nothing +to his sister, was that in the expression the sculptor had happened to +give the angel's face, Prince Andrew read the same mild reproach he +had read on the face of his dead wife: "Ah, why have you done this +to me?" + +Soon after Prince Andrew's return the old prince made over to him +a large estate, Bogucharovo, about twenty-five miles from Bald +Hills. Partly because of the depressing memories associated with +Bald Hills, partly because Prince Andrew did not always feel equal +to bearing with his father's peculiarities, and partly because he +needed solitude, Prince Andrew made use of Bogucharovo, began building +and spent most of his time there. + +After the Austerlitz campaign Prince Andrew had firmly resolved +not to continue his military service, and when the war recommenced and +everybody had to serve, he took a post under his father in the +recruitment so as to avoid active service. The old prince and his +son seemed to have changed roles since the campaign of 1805. The old +man, roused by activity, expected the best results from the new +campaign, while Prince Andrew on the contrary, taking no part in the +war and secretly regretting this, saw only the dark side. + +On February 26, 1807, the old prince set off on one of his circuits. +Prince Andrew remained at Bald Hills as usual during his father's +absence. Little Nicholas had been unwell for four days. The coachman +who had driven the old prince to town returned bringing papers and +letters for Prince Andrew. + +Not finding the young prince in his study the valet went with the +letters to Princess Mary's apartments, but did not find him there. +He was told that the prince had gone to the nursery. + +"If you please, your excellency, Petrusha has brought some +papers," said one of the nursemaids to Prince Andrew who was sitting +on a child's little chair while, frowning and with trembling hands, he +poured drops from a medicine bottle into a wineglass half full of +water. + +"What is it?" he said crossly, and, his hand shaking +unintentionally, he poured too many drops into the glass. He threw the +mixture onto the floor and asked for some more water. The maid brought +it. + +There were in the room a child's cot, two boxes, two armchairs, a +table, a child's table, and the little chair on which Prince Andrew +was sitting. The curtains were drawn, and a single candle was +burning on the table, screened by a bound music book so that the light +did not fall on the cot. + +"My dear," said Princess Mary, addressing her brother from beside +the cot where she was standing, "better wait a bit... later..." + +"Oh, leave off, you always talk nonsense and keep putting things +off- and this is what comes of it!" said Prince Andrew in an +exasperated whisper, evidently meaning to wound his sister. + +"My dear, really... it's better not to wake him... he's asleep," +said the princess in a tone of entreaty. + +Prince Andrew got up and went on tiptoe up to the little bed, +wineglass in hand. + +"Perhaps we'd really better not wake him," he said hesitating. + +"As you please... really... I think so... but as you please," said +Princess Mary, evidently intimidated and confused that her opinion had +prevailed. She drew her brother's attention to the maid who was +calling him in a whisper. + +It was the second night that neither of them had slept, watching the +boy who was in a high fever. These last days, mistrusting their +household doctor and expecting another for whom they had sent to town, +they had been trying first one remedy and then another. Worn out by +sleeplessness and anxiety they threw their burden of sorrow on one +another and reproached and disputed with each other. + +"Petrusha has come with papers from your father," whispered the +maid. + +Prince Andrew went out. + +"Devil take them!" he muttered, and after listening to the verbal +instructions his father had sent and taking the correspondence and his +father's letter, he returned to the nursery. + +"Well?" he asked. + +"Still the same. Wait, for heaven's sake. Karl Ivanich always says +that sleep is more important than anything," whispered Princess Mary +with a sigh. + +Prince Andrew went up to the child and felt him. He was burning hot. + +"Confound you and your Karl Ivanich!" He took the glass with the +drops and again went up to the cot. + +"Andrew, don't!" said Princess Mary. + +But he scowled at her angrily though also with suffering in his +eyes, and stooped glass in hand over the infant. + +"But I wish it," he said. "I beg you- give it him!" + +Princess Mary shrugged her shoulders but took the glass submissively +and calling the nurse began giving the medicine. The child screamed +hoarsely. Prince Andrew winced and, clutching his head, went out and +sat down on a sofa in the next room. + +He still had all the letters in his hand. Opening them +mechanically he began reading. The old prince, now and then using +abbreviations, wrote in his large elongated hand on blue paper as +follows: + +Have just this moment received by special messenger very joyful +news- if it's not false. Bennigsen seems to have obtained a complete +victory over Buonaparte at Eylau. In Petersburg everyone is rejoicing, +and the rewards sent to the army are innumerable. Though he is a +German- I congratulate him! I can't make out what the commander at +Korchevo- a certain Khandrikov- is up to; till now the additional +men and provisions have not arrived. Gallop off to him at once and say +I'll have his head off if everything is not here in a week. Have +received another letter about the Preussisch-Eylau battle from +Petenka- he took part in it- and it's all true. When mischief-makers +don't meddle even a German beats Buonaparte. He is said to be +fleeing in great disorder. Mind you gallop off to Korchevo without +delay and carry out instructions! + +Prince Andrew sighed and broke the seal of another envelope. It +was a closely written letter of two sheets from Bilibin. He folded +it up without reading it and reread his father's letter, ending with +the words: "Gallop off to Korchevo and carry out instructions!" + +"No, pardon me, I won't go now till the child is better," thought +he, going to the door and looking into the nursery. + +Princess Mary was still standing by the cot, gently rocking the +baby. + +"Ah yes, and what else did he say that's unpleasant?" thought Prince +Andrew, recalling his father's letter. "Yes, we have gained a +victory over Bonaparte, just when I'm not serving. Yes, yes, he's +always poking fun at me.... Ah, well! Let him!" And he began reading +Bilibin's letter which was written in French. He read without +understanding half of it, read only to forget, if but for a moment, +what he had too long been thinking of so painfully to the exclusion of +all else. + +CHAPTER IX + +Bilibin was now at army headquarters in a diplomatic capacity, and +though he wrote in French and used French jests and French idioms, +he described the whole campaign with a fearless self-censure and +self-derision genuinely Russian. Bilibin wrote that the obligation +of diplomatic discretion tormented him, and he was happy to have in +Prince Andrew a reliable correspondent to whom he could pour out the +bile he had accumulated at the sight of all that was being done in the +army. The letter was old, having been written before the battle at +Preussisch-Eylau. + +"Since the day of our brilliant success at Austerlitz," wrote +Bilibin, "as you know, my dear prince, I never leave headquarters. I +have certainly acquired a taste for war, and it is just as well for +me; what I have seen during these last three months is incredible. + +"I begin ab ovo. 'The enemy of the human race,' as you know, attacks +the Prussians. The Prussians are our faithful allies who have only +betrayed us three times in three years. We take up their cause, but it +turns out that 'the enemy of the human race' pays no heed to our +fine speeches and in his rude and savage way throws himself on the +Prussians without giving them time to finish the parade they had +begun, and in two twists of the hand he breaks them to smithereens and +installs himself in the palace at Potsdam. + +"'I most ardently desire,' writes the King of Prussia to +Bonaparte, 'that Your Majesty should be received and treated in my +palace in a manner agreeable to yourself, and in so far as +circumstances allowed, I have hastened to take all steps to that +end. May I have succeeded!' The Prussian generals pride themselves +on being polite to the French and lay down their arms at the first +demand. + +"The head of the garrison at Glogau, with ten thousand men, asks the +King of Prussia what he is to do if he is summoned to surrender.... +All this is absolutely true. + +"In short, hoping to settle matters by taking up a warlike attitude, +it turns out that we have landed ourselves in war, and what is more, +in war on our own frontiers, with and for the King of Prussia. We have +everything in perfect order, only one little thing is lacking, namely, +a commander in chief. As it was considered that the Austerlitz success +might have been more decisive had the commander in chief not been so +young, all our octogenarians were reviewed, and of Prozorovski and +Kamenski the latter was preferred. The general comes to us, +Suvorov-like, in a kibitka, and is received with acclamations of joy +and triumph. + +"On the 4th, the first courier arrives from Petersburg. The mails +are taken to the field marshal's room, for he likes to do everything +himself. I am called in to help sort the letters and take those +meant for us. The field marshal looks on and waits for letters +addressed to him. We search, but none are to be found. The field +marshal grows impatient and sets to work himself and finds letters +from the Emperor to Count T., Prince V., and others. Then he bursts +into one of his wild furies and rages at everyone and everything, +seizes the letters, opens them, and reads those from the Emperor +addressed to others. 'Ah! So that's the way they treat me! No +confidence in me! Ah, ordered to keep an eye on me! Very well then! +Get along with you!' So he writes the famous order of the day to +General Bennigsen: + +'I am wounded and cannot ride and consequently cannot command the +army. You have brought your army corps to Pultusk, routed: here it +is exposed, and without fuel or forage, so something must be done, +and, as you yourself reported to Count Buxhowden yesterday, you must +think of retreating to our frontier- which do today.' + +"'From all my riding,' he writes to the Emperor, 'I have got a +saddle sore which, coming after all my previous journeys, quite +prevents my riding and commanding so vast an army, so I have passed on +the command to the general next in seniority, Count Buxhowden, +having sent him my whole staff and all that belongs to it, advising +him if there is a lack of bread, to move farther into the interior +of Prussia, for only one day's ration of bread remains, and in some +regiments none at all, as reported by the division commanders, +Ostermann and Sedmoretzki, and all that the peasants had has been +eaten up. I myself will remain in hospital at Ostrolenka till I +recover. In regard to which I humbly submit my report, with the +information that if the army remains in its present bivouac another +fortnight there will not be a healthy man left in it by spring. + +"'Grant leave to retire to his country seat to an old man who is +already in any case dishonored by being unable to fulfill the great +and glorious task for which he was chosen. I shall await your most +gracious permission here in hospital, that I may not have to play +the part of a secretary rather than commander in the army. My +removal from the army does not produce the slightest stir- a blind man +has left it. There are thousands such as I in Russia.' + +"The field marshal is angry with the Emperor and he punishes us all, +isn't it logical? + +"This is the first act. Those that follow are naturally increasingly +interesting and entertaining. After the field marshal's departure it +appears that we are within sight of the enemy and must give battle. +Buxhowden is commander in chief by seniority, but General Bennigsen +does not quite see it; more particularly as it is he and his corps who +are within sight of the enemy and he wishes to profit by the +opportunity to fight a battle 'on his own hand' as the Germans say. He +does so. This is the battle of Pultusk, which is considered a great +victory but in my opinion was nothing of the kind. We civilians, as +you know, have a very bad way of deciding whether a battle was won +or lost. Those who retreat after a battle have lost it is what we say; +and according to that it is we who lost the battle of Pultusk. In +short, we retreat after the battle but send a courier to Petersburg +with news of a victory, and General Bennigsen, hoping to receive +from Petersburg the post of commander in chief as a reward for his +victory, does not give up the command of the army to General +Buxhowden. During this interregnum we begin a very original and +interesting series of maneuvers. Our aim is no longer, as it should +be, to avoid or attack the enemy, but solely to avoid General +Buxhowden who by right of seniority should be our chief. So +energetically do we pursue this aim that after crossing an +unfordable river we burn the bridges to separate ourselves from our +enemy, who at the moment is not Bonaparte but Buxhowden. General +Buxhowden was all but attacked and captured by a superior enemy +force as a result of one of these maneuvers that enabled us to +escape him. Buxhowden pursues us- we scuttle. He hardly crosses the +river to our side before we recross to the other. At last our enemy. +Buxhowden, catches us and attacks. Both generals are angry, and the +result is a challenge on Buxhowden's part and an epileptic fit on +Bennigsen's. But at the critical moment the courier who carried the +news of our victory at Pultusk to Petersburg returns bringing our +appointment as commander in chief, and our first foe, Buxhowden, is +vanquished; we can now turn our thoughts to the second, Bonaparte. But +as it turns out, just at that moment a third enemy rises before us- +namely the Orthodox Russian soldiers, loudly demanding bread, meat, +biscuits, fodder, and whatnot! The stores are empty, the roads +impassable. The Orthodox begin looting, and in a way of which our last +campaign can give you no idea. Half the regiments form bands and scour +the countryside and put everything to fire and sword. The +inhabitants are totally ruined, the hospitals overflow with sick, +and famine is everywhere. Twice the marauders even attack our +headquarters, and the commander in chief has to ask for a battalion to +disperse them. During one of these attacks they carried off my empty +portmanteau and my dressing gown. The Emperor proposes to give all +commanders of divisions the right to shoot marauders, but I much +fear this will oblige one half the army to shoot the other." + +At first Prince Andrew read with his eyes only, but after a while, +in spite of himself (although he knew how far it was safe to trust +Bilibin), what he had read began to interest him more and more. When +he had read thus far, he crumpled the letter up and threw it away. +It was not what he had read that vexed him, but the fact that the life +out there in which he had now no part could perturb him. He shut his +eyes, rubbed his forehead as if to rid himself of all interest in what +he had read, and listened to what was passing in the nursery. Suddenly +he thought he heard a strange noise through the door. He was seized +with alarm lest something should have happened to the child while he +was reading the letter. He went on tiptoe to the nursery door and +opened it. + +Just as he went in he saw that the nurse was hiding something from +him with a scared look and that Princess Mary was no longer by the +cot. + +"My dear," he heard what seemed to him her despairing whisper behind +him. + +As often happens after long sleeplessness and long anxiety, he was +seized by an unreasoning panic- it occurred to him that the child +was dead. All that he saw and heard seemed to confirm this terror. + +"All is over," he thought, and a cold sweat broke out on his +forehead. He went to the cot in confusion, sure that he would find +it empty and that the nurse had been hiding the dead baby. He drew the +curtain aside and for some time his frightened, restless eyes could +not find the baby. At last he saw him: the rosy boy had tossed about +till he lay across the bed with his head lower than the pillow, and +was smacking his lips in his sleep and breathing evenly. + +Prince Andrew was as glad to find the boy like that, as if he had +already lost him. He bent over him and, as his sister had taught +him, tried with his lips whether the child was still feverish. The +soft forehead was moist. Prince Andrew touched the head with his hand; +even the hair was wet, so profusely had the child perspired. He was +not dead, but evidently the crisis was over and he was convalescent. +Prince Andrew longed to snatch up, to squeeze, to hold to his heart, +this helpless little creature, but dared not do so. He stood over him, +gazing at his head and at the little arms and legs which showed +under the blanket. He heard a rustle behind him and a shadow +appeared under the curtain of the cot. He did not look round, but +still gazing at the infant's face listened to his regular breathing. +The dark shadow was Princess Mary, who had come up to the cot with +noiseless steps, lifted the curtain, and dropped it again behind +her. Prince Andrew recognized her without looking and held out his +hand to her. She pressed it. + +"He has perspired," said Prince Andrew. + +"I was coming to tell you so." + +The child moved slightly in his sleep, smiled, and rubbed his +forehead against the pillow. + +Prince Andrew looked at his sister. In the dim shadow of the curtain +her luminous eyes shone more brightly than usual from the tears of joy +that were in them. She leaned over to her brother and kissed him, +slightly catching the curtain of the cot. Each made the other a +warning gesture and stood still in the dim light beneath the curtain +as if not wishing to leave that seclusion where they three were shut +off from all the world. Prince Andrew was the first to move away, +ruffling his hair against the muslin of the curtain. + +"Yes, this is the one thing left me now," he said with a sigh. + +CHAPTER X + +Soon after his admission to the Masonic Brotherhood, Pierre went +to the Kiev province, where he had the greatest number of serfs, +taking with him full directions which he had written down for his +own guidance as to what he should do on his estates. + +When he reached Kiev he sent for all his stewards to the head office +and explained to them his intentions and wishes. He told them that +steps would be taken immediately to free his serfs- and that till then +they were not to be overburdened with labor, women while nursing their +babies were not to be sent to work, assistance was to be given to +the serfs, punishments were to be admonitory and not corporal, and +hospitals, asylums, and schools were to be established on all the +estates. Some of the stewards (there were semiliterate foremen among +them) listened with alarm, supposing these words to mean that the +young count was displeased with their management and embezzlement of +money, some after their first fright were amused by Pierre's lisp +and the new words they had not heard before, others simply enjoyed +hearing how the master talked, while the cleverest among them, +including the chief steward, understood from this speech how they +could best handle the master for their own ends. + +The chief steward expressed great sympathy with Pierre's intentions, +but remarked that besides these changes it would be necessary to go +into the general state of affairs which was far from satisfactory. + +Despite Count Bezukhov's enormous wealth, since he had come into +an income which was said to amount to five hundred thousand rubles a +year, Pierre felt himself far poorer than when his father had made him +an allowance of ten thousand rubles. He had a dim perception of the +following budget: + +About 80,000 went in payments on all the estates to the Land Bank, +about 30,000 went for the upkeep of the estate near Moscow, the town +house, and the allowance to the three princesses; about 15,000 was +given in pensions and the same amount for asylums; 150,000 alimony was +sent to the countess; about 70,00 went for interest on debts. The +building of a new church, previously begun, had cost about 10,000 in +each of the last two years, and he did not know how the rest, about +100,000 rubles, was spent, and almost every year he was obliged to +borrow. Besides this the chief steward wrote every year telling him of +fires and bad harvests, or of the necessity of rebuilding factories +and workshops. So the first task Pierre had to face was one for +which he had very little aptitude or inclination- practical business. + +He discussed estate affairs every day with his chief steward. But he +felt that this did not forward matters at all. He felt that these +consultations were detached from real affairs and did not link up with +them or make them move. On the one hand, the chief steward put the +state of things to him in the very worst light, pointing out the +necessity of paying off the debts and undertaking new activities +with serf labor, to which Pierre did not agree. On the other hand, +Pierre demanded that steps should be taken to liberate the serfs, +which the steward met by showing the necessity of first paying off the +loans from the Land Bank, and the consequent impossibility of a speedy +emancipation. + +The steward did not say it was quite impossible, but suggested +selling the forests in the province of Kostroma, the land lower down +the river, and the Crimean estate, in order to make it possible: all +of which operations according to him were connected with such +complicated measures- the removal of injunctions, petitions, +permits, and so on- that Pierre became quite bewildered and only +replied: + +"Yes, yes, do so." + +Pierre had none of the practical persistence that would have enabled +him to attend to the business himself and so he disliked it and only +tried to pretend to the steward that he was attending to it. The +steward for his part tried to pretend to the count that he +considered these consultations very valuable for the proprietor and +troublesome to himself. + +In Kiev Pierre found some people he knew, and strangers hastened +to make his acquaintance and joyfully welcomed the rich newcomer, +the largest landowner of the province. Temptations to Pierre's +greatest weakness- the one to which he had confessed when admitted +to the Lodge- were so strong that he could not resist them. Again +whole days, weeks, and months of his life passed in as great a rush +and were as much occupied with evening parties, dinners, lunches, +and balls, giving him no time for reflection, as in Petersburg. +Instead of the new life he had hoped to lead he still lived the old +life, only in new surroundings. + +Of the three precepts of Freemasonry Pierre realized that he did not +fulfill the one which enjoined every Mason to set an example of +moral life, and that of the seven virtues he lacked two- morality +and the love of death. He consoled himself with the thought that he +fulfilled another of the precepts- that of reforming the human race- +and had other virtues- love of his neighbor, and especially +generosity. + +In the spring of 1807 he decided to return to Petersburg. On the way +he intended to visit all his estates and see for himself how far his +orders had been carried out and in what state were the serfs whom +God had entrusted to his care and whom he intended to benefit. + +The chief steward, who considered the young count's attempts +almost insane- unprofitable to himself, to the count, and to the +serfs- made some concessions. Continuing to represent the liberation +of the serfs as impracticable, he arranged for the erection of large +buildings- schools, hospitals, and asylums- on all the estates +before the master arrived. Everywhere preparations were made not for +ceremonious welcomes (which he knew Pierre would not like), but for +just such gratefully religious ones, with offerings of icons and the +bread and salt of hospitality, as, according to his understanding of +his master, would touch and delude him. + +The southern spring, the comfortable rapid traveling in a Vienna +carriage, and the solitude of the road, all had a gladdening effect on +Pierre. The estates he had not before visited were each more +picturesque than the other; the serfs everywhere seemed thriving and +touchingly grateful for the benefits conferred on them. Everywhere +were receptions, which though they embarrassed Pierre awakened a +joyful feeling in the depth of his heart. In one place the peasants +presented him with bread and salt and an icon of Saint Peter and Saint +Paul, asking permission, as a mark of their gratitude for the benefits +he had conferred on them, to build a new chantry to the church at +their own expense in honor of Peter and Paul, his patron saints. In +another place the women with infants in arms met him to thank him +for releasing them from hard work. On a third estate the priest, +bearing a cross, came to meet him surrounded by children whom, by +the count's generosity, he was instructing in reading, writing, and +religion. On all his estates Pierre saw with his own eyes brick +buildings erected or in course of erection, all on one plan, for +hospitals, schools, and almshouses, which were soon to be opened. +Everywhere he saw the stewards' accounts, according to which the +serfs' manorial labor had been diminished, and heard the touching +thanks of deputations of serfs in their full-skirted blue coats. + +What Pierre did not know was that the place where they presented him +with bread and salt and wished to build a chantry in honor of Peter +and Paul was a market village where a fair was held on St. Peter's +day, and that the richest peasants (who formed the deputation) had +begun the chantry long before, but that nine tenths of the peasants in +that villages were in a state of the greatest poverty. He did not know +that since the nursing mothers were no longer sent to work on his +land, they did still harder work on their own land. He did not know +that the priest who met him with the cross oppressed the peasants by +his exactions, and that the pupils' parents wept at having to let +him take their children and secured their release by heavy payments. +He did not know that the brick buildings, built to plan, were being +built by serfs whose manorial labor was thus increased, though +lessened on paper. He did not know that where the steward had shown +him in the accounts that the serfs' payments had been diminished by +a third, their obligatory manorial work had been increased by a +half. And so Pierre was delighted with his visit to his estates and +quite recovered the philanthropic mood in which he had left +Petersburg, and wrote enthusiastic letters to his "brother-instructor" +as he called the Grand Master. + +"How easy it is, how little effort it needs, to do so much good," +thought Pierre, "and how little attention we pay to it!" + +He was pleased at the gratitude he received, but felt abashed at +receiving it. This gratitude reminded him of how much more he might do +for these simple, kindly people. + +The chief steward, a very stupid but cunning man who saw perfectly +through the naive and intelligent count and played with him as with +a toy, seeing the effect these prearranged receptions had on Pierre, +pressed him still harder with proofs of the impossibility and above +all the uselessness of freeing the serfs, who were quite happy as it +was. + +Pierre in his secret soul agreed with the steward that it would be +difficult to imagine happier people, and that God only knew what would +happen to them when they were free, but he insisted, though +reluctantly, on what he thought right. The steward promised to do +all in his power to carry out the count's wishes, seeing clearly +that not only would the count never be able to find out whether all +measures had been taken for the sale of the land and forests and to +release them from the Land Bank, but would probably never even inquire +and would never know that the newly erected buildings were standing +empty and that the serfs continued to give in money and work all +that other people's serfs gave- that is to say, all that could be +got out of them. + +CHAPTER XI + +Returning from his journey through South Russia in the happiest +state of mind, Pierre carried out an intention he had long had of +visiting his friend Bolkonski, whom he had not seen for two years. + +Bogucharovo lay in a flat uninteresting part of the country among +fields and forests of fir and birch, which were partly cut down. The +house lay behind a newly dug pond filled with water to the brink and +with banks still bare of grass. It was at the end of a village that +stretched along the highroad in the midst of a young copse in which +were a few fir trees. + +The homestead consisted of a threshing floor, outhouses, stables, +a bathhouse, a lodge, and a large brick house with semicircular facade +still in course of construction. Round the house was a garden newly +laid out. The fences and gates were new and solid; two fire pumps +and a water cart, painted green, stood in a shed; the paths were +straight, the bridges were strong and had handrails. Everything bore +an impress of tidiness and good management. Some domestic serfs Pierre +met, in reply to inquiries as to where the prince lived, pointed out a +small newly built lodge close to the pond. Anton, a man who had looked +after Prince Andrew in his boyhood, helped Pierre out of his carriage, +said that the prince was at home, and showed him into a clean little +anteroom. + +Pierre was struck by the modesty of the small though clean house +after the brilliant surroundings in which he had last met his friend +in Petersburg. + +He quickly entered the small reception room with its +still-unplastered wooden walls redolent of pine, and would have gone +farther, but Anton ran ahead on tiptoe and knocked at a door. + +"Well, what is it?" came a sharp, unpleasant voice. + +"A visitor," answered Anton. + +"Ask him to wait," and the sound was heard of a chair being pushed +back. + +Pierre went with rapid steps to the door and suddenly came face to +face with Prince Andrew, who came out frowning and looking old. Pierre +embraced him and lifting his spectacles kissed his friend on the cheek +and looked at him closely. + +"Well, I did not expect you, I am very glad," said Prince Andrew. + +Pierre said nothing; he looked fixedly at his friend with +surprise. He was struck by the change in him. His words were kindly +and there was a smile on his lips and face, but his eyes were dull and +lifeless and in spite of his evident wish to do so he could not give +them a joyous and glad sparkle. Prince Andrew had grown thinner, +paler, and more manly-looking, but what amazed and estranged Pierre +till he got used to it were his inertia and a wrinkle on his brow +indicating prolonged concentration on some one thought. + +As is usually the case with people meeting after a prolonged +separation, it was long before their conversation could settle on +anything. They put questions and gave brief replies about things +they knew ought to be talked over at length. At last the +conversation gradually settled on some of the topics at first +lightly touched on: their past life, plans for the future, Pierre's +journeys and occupations, the war, and so on. The preoccupation and +despondency which Pierre had noticed in his friend's look was now +still more clearly expressed in the smile with which he listened to +Pierre, especially when he spoke with joyful animation of the past +or the future. It was as if Prince Andrew would have liked to +sympathize with what Pierre was saying, but could not. The latter +began to feel that it was in bad taste to speak of his enthusiasms, +dreams, and hopes of happiness or goodness, in Prince Andrew's +presence. He was ashamed to express his new Masonic views, which had +been particularly revived and strengthened by his late tour. He +checked himself, fearing to seem naive, yet he felt an irresistible +desire to show his friend as soon as possible that he was now a +quite different, and better, Pierre than he had been in Petersburg. + +"I can't tell you how much I have lived through since then. I hardly +know myself again." + +"Yes, we have altered much, very much, since then," said Prince +Andrew. + +"Well, and you? What are your plans?" + +"Plans!" repeated Prince Andrew ironically. "My plans?" he said, +as if astonished at the word. "Well, you see, I'm building. I mean +to settle here altogether next year...." + +Pierre looked silently and searchingly into Prince Andrew's face, +which had grown much older. + +"No, I meant to ask..." Pierre began, but Prince Andrew +interrupted him. + +"But why talk of me?... Talk to me, yes, tell me about your +travels and all you have been doing on your estates." + +Pierre began describing what he had done on his estates, trying as +far as possible to conceal his own part in the improvements that had +been made. Prince Andrew several times prompted Pierre's story of what +he had been doing, as though it were all an old-time story, and he +listened not only without interest but even as if ashamed of what +Pierre was telling him. + +Pierre felt uncomfortable and even depressed in his friend's company +and at last became silent. + +"I'll tell you what, my dear fellow," said Prince Andrew, who +evidently also felt depressed and constrained with his visitor, "I +am only bivouacking here and have just come to look round. I am +going back to my sister today. I will introduce you to her. But of +course you know her already," he said, evidently trying to entertain a +visitor with whom he now found nothing in common. "We will go after +dinner. And would you now like to look round my place?" + +They went out and walked about till dinnertime, talking of the +political news and common acquaintances like people who do not know +each other intimately. Prince Andrew spoke with some animation and +interest only of the new homestead he was constructing and its +buildings, but even here, while on the scaffolding, in the midst of +a talk explaining the future arrangements of the house, he interrupted +himself: + +"However, this is not at all interesting. Let us have dinner, and +then we'll set off." + +At dinner, conversation turned on Pierre's marriage. + +"I was very much surprised when I heard of it," said Prince Andrew. + +Pierre blushed, as he always did when it was mentioned, and said +hurriedly: "I will tell you some time how it all happened. But you +know it is all over, and forever." + +"Forever?" said Prince Andrew. "Nothing's forever." + +"But you know how it all ended, don't you? You heard of the duel?" + +"And so you had to go through that too!" + +"One thing I thank God for is that I did not kill that man," said +Pierre. + +"Why so?" asked Prince Andrew. "To kill a vicious dog is a very good +thing really." + +"No, to kill a man is bad- wrong." + +"Why is it wrong?" urged Prince Andrew. "It is not given to man to +know what is right and what is wrong. Men always did and always will +err, and in nothing more than in what they consider right and wrong." + +"What does harm to another is wrong," said Pierre, feeling with +pleasure that for the first time since his arrival Prince Andrew was +roused, had begun to talk, and wanted to express what had brought +him to his present state. + +"And who has told you what is bad for another man?" he asked. + +"Bad! Bad!" exclaimed Pierre. "We all know what is bad for +ourselves." + +"Yes, we know that, but the harm I am conscious of in myself is +something I cannot inflict on others," said Prince Andrew, growing +more and more animated and evidently wishing to express his new +outlook to Pierre. He spoke in French. "I only know two very real +evils in life: remorse and illness. The only good is the absence of +those evils. To live for myself avoiding those two evils is my whole +philosophy now." + +"And love of one's neighbor, and self-sacrifice?" began Pierre. "No, +I can't agree with you! To live only so as not to do evil and not to +have to repent is not enough. I lived like that, I lived for myself +and ruined my life. And only now when I am living, or at least trying" +(Pierre's modesty made him correct himself) "to live for others, +only now have I understood all the happiness of life. No, I shall +not agree with you, and you do not really believe what you are +saying." Prince Andrew looked silently at Pierre with an ironic smile. + +"When you see my sister, Princess Mary, you'll get on with her," +he said. "Perhaps you are right for yourself," he added after a +short pause, "but everyone lives in his own way. You lived for +yourself and say you nearly ruined your life and only found +happiness when you began living for others. I experienced just the +reverse. I lived for glory.- And after all what is glory? The same +love of others, a desire to do something for them, a desire for +their approval.- So I lived for others, and not almost, but quite, +ruined my life. And I have become calmer since I began to live only +for myself." + +"But what do you mean by living only for yourself?" asked Pierre, +growing excited. "What about your son, your sister, and your father?" + +"But that's just the same as myself- they are not others," explained +Prince Andrew. "The others, one's neighbors, le prochain, as you and +Princess Mary call it, are the chief source of all error and evil. +Le prochain- your Kiev peasants to whom you want to do good." + +And he looked at Pierre with a mocking, challenging expression. He +evidently wished to draw him on. + +"You are joking," replied Pierre, growing more and more excited. +"What error or evil can there be in my wishing to do good, and even +doing a little- though I did very little and did it very badly? What +evil can there be in it if unfortunate people, our serfs, people +like ourselves, were growing up and dying with no idea of God and +truth beyond ceremonies and meaningless prayers and are now instructed +in a comforting belief in future life, retribution, recompense, and +consolation? What evil and error are there in it, if people were dying +of disease without help while material assistance could so easily be +rendered, and I supplied them with a doctor, a hospital, and an asylum +for the aged? And is it not a palpable, unquestionable good if a +peasant, or a woman with a baby, has no rest day or night and I give +them rest and leisure?" said Pierre, hurrying and lisping. "And I have +done that though badly and to a small extent; but I have done +something toward it and you cannot persuade me that it was not a +good action, and more than that, you can't make me believe that you do +not think so yourself. And the main thing is," he continued, "that I +know, and know for certain, that the enjoyment of doing this good is +the only sure happiness in life." + +"Yes, if you put it like that it's quite a different matter," said +Prince Andrew. "I build a house and lay out a garden, and you build +hospitals. The one and the other may serve as a pastime. But what's +right and what's good must be judged by one who knows all, but not +by us. Well, you want an argument," he added, come on then." + +They rose from the table and sat down in the entrance porch which +served as a veranda. + +"Come, let's argue then," said Prince Andrew, "You talk of schools," +he went on, crooking a finger, "education and so forth; that is, you +want to raise him" (pointing to a peasant who passed by them taking +off his cap) "from his animal condition and awaken in him spiritual +needs, while it seems to me that animal happiness is the only +happiness possible, and that is just what you want to deprive him +of. I envy him, but you want to make him what I am, without giving him +my means. Then you say, 'lighten his toil.' But as I see it, +physical labor is as essential to him, as much a condition of his +existence, as mental activity is to you or me. You can't help +thinking. I go to bed after two in the morning, thoughts come and I +can't sleep but toss about till dawn, because I think and can't help +thinking, just as he can't help plowing and mowing; if he didn't, he +would go to the drink shop or fall ill. Just as I could not stand +his terrible physical labor but should die of it in a week, so he +could not stand my physical idleness, but would grow fat and die. +The third thing- what else was it you talked about?" and Prince Andrew +crooked a third finger. "Ah, yes, hospitals, medicine. He has a fit, +he is dying, and you come and bleed him and patch him up. He will drag +about as a cripple, a burden to everybody, for another ten years. It +would be far easier and simpler for him to die. Others are being +born and there are plenty of them as it is. It would be different if +you grudged losing a laborer- that's how I regard him- but you want to +cure him from love of him. And he does not want that. And besides, +what a notion that medicine ever cured anyone! Killed them, yes!" said +he, frowning angrily and turning away from Pierre. + +Prince Andrew expressed his ideas so clearly and distinctly that +it was evident he had reflected on this subject more than once, and he +spoke readily and rapidly like a man who has not talked for a long +time. His glance became more animated as his conclusions became more +hopeless. + +"Oh, that is dreadful, dreadful!" said Pierre. "I don't understand +how one can live with such ideas. I had such moments myself not long +ago, in Moscow and when traveling, but at such times I collapsed so +that I don't live at all- everything seems hateful to me... myself + +most of all. Then I don't eat, don't wash... and how is it with +you?..." + +"Why not wash? That is not cleanly," said Prince Andrew; "on the +contrary one must try to make one's life as pleasant as possible. +I'm alive, that is not my fault, so I must live out my life as best +I can without hurting others." + +"But with such ideas what motive have you for living? One would +sit without moving, undertaking nothing...." + +"Life as it is leaves one no peace. I should be thankful to do +nothing, but here on the one hand the local nobility have done me +the honor to choose me to be their marshal; it was all I could do to +get out of it. They could not understand that I have not the necessary +qualifications for it- the kind of good-natured, fussy shallowness +necessary for the position. Then there's this house, which must be +built in order to have a nook of one's own in which to be quiet. And +now there's this recruiting." + +"Why aren't you serving in the army?" + +"After Austerlitz!" said Prince Andrew gloomily. "No, thank you very +much! I have promised myself not to serve again in the active +Russian army. And I won't- not even if Bonaparte were here at Smolensk +threatening Bald Hills- even then I wouldn't serve in the Russian +army! Well, as I was saying," he continued, recovering his +composure, "now there's this recruiting. My father is chief in command +of the Third District, and my only way of avoiding active service is +to serve under him." + +"Then you are serving?" + +"I am." + +He paused a little while. + +"And why do you serve?" + +"Why, for this reason! My father is one of the most remarkable men +of his time. But he is growing old, and though not exactly cruel he +has too energetic a character. He is so accustomed to unlimited +power that he is terrible, and now he has this authority of a +commander in chief of the recruiting, granted by the Emperor. If I had +been two hours late a fortnight ago he would have had a paymaster's +clerk at Yukhnovna hanged," said Prince Andrew with a smile. "So I +am serving because I alone have any influence with my father, and +now and then can save him from actions which would torment him +afterwards." + +"Well, there you see!" + +"Yes, but it is not as you imagine," Prince Andrew continued. "I did +not, and do not, in the least care about that scoundrel of a clerk who +had stolen some boots from the recruits; I should even have been +very glad to see him hanged, but I was sorry for my father- that again +is for myself." + +Prince Andrew grew more and more animated. His eyes glittered +feverishly while he tried to prove to Pierre that in his actions there +was no desire to do good to his neighbor. + +"There now, you wish to liberate your serfs," he continued; "that is +a very good thing, but not for you- I don't suppose you ever had +anyone flogged or sent to Siberia- and still less for your serfs. If +they are beaten, flogged, or sent to Siberia, I don't suppose they are +any the worse off. In Siberia they lead the same animal life, and +the stripes on their bodies heal, and they are happy as before. But it +is a good thing for proprietors who perish morally, bring remorse upon +themselves, stifle this remorse and grow callous, as a result of being +able to inflict punishments justly and unjustly. It is those people +I pity, and for their sake I should like to liberate the serfs. You +may not have seen, but I have seen, how good men brought up in those +traditions of unlimited power, in time when they grow more +irritable, become cruel and harsh, are conscious of it, but cannot +restrain themselves and grow more and more miserable." + +Prince Andrew spoke so earnestly that Pierre could not help thinking +that these thoughts had been suggested to Prince Andrew by his +father's case. + +He did not reply. + +"So that's what I'm sorry for- human dignity, peace of mind, purity, +and not the serfs' backs and foreheads, which, beat and shave as you +may, always remain the same backs and foreheads." + +"No, no! A thousand times no! I shall never agree with you," said +Pierre. + +CHAPTER XII + +In the evening Andrew and Pierre got into the open carriage and +drove to Bald Hills. Prince Andrew, glancing at Pierre, broke the +silence now and then with remarks which showed that he was in a good +temper. + +Pointing to the fields, he spoke of the improvements he was making +in his husbandry. + +Pierre remained gloomily silent, answering in monosyllables and +apparently immersed in his own thoughts. + +He was thinking that Prince Andrew was unhappy, had gone astray, did +not see the true light, and that he, Pierre, ought to aid, +enlighten, and raise him. But as soon as he thought of what he +should say, he felt that Prince Andrew with one word, one argument, +would upset all his teaching, and he shrank from beginning, afraid +of exposing to possible ridicule what to him was precious and sacred. + +"No, but why do you think so?" Pierre suddenly began, lowering his +head and looking like a bull about to charge, "why do you think so? +You should not think so." + +"Think? What about?" asked Prince Andrew with surprise. + +"About life, about man's destiny. It can't be so. I myself thought +like that, and do you know what saved me? Freemasonry! No, don't +smile. Freemasonry is not a religious ceremonial sect, as I thought it +was: Freemasonry is the best expression of the best, the eternal, +aspects of humanity." + +And he began to explain Freemasonry as he understood it to Prince +Andrew. He said that Freemasonry is the teaching of Christianity freed +from the bonds of State and Church, a teaching of equality, +brotherhood, and love. + +"Only our holy brotherhood has the real meaning of life, all the +rest is a dream," said Pierre. "Understand, my dear fellow, that +outside this union all is filled with deceit and falsehood and I agree +with you that nothing is left for an intelligent and good man but to +live out his life, like you, merely trying not to harm others. But +make our fundamental convictions your own, join our brotherhood, +give yourself up to us, let yourself be guided, and you will at once +feel yourself, as I have felt myself, a part of that vast invisible +chain the beginning of which is hidden in heaven," said Pierre. + +Prince Andrew, looking straight in front of him, listened in silence +to Pierre's words. More than once, when the noise of the wheels +prevented his catching what Pierre said, he asked him to repeat it, +and by the peculiar glow that came into Prince Andrew's eyes and by +his silence, Pierre saw that his words were not in vain and that +Prince Andrew would not interrupt him or laugh at what he said. + +They reached a river that had overflowed its banks and which they +had to cross by ferry. While the carriage and horses were being placed +on it, they also stepped on the raft. + +Prince Andrew, leaning his arms on the raft railing, gazed +silently at the flooding waters glittering in the setting sun. + +"Well, what do you think about it?" Pierre asked. "Why are you +silent?" + +"What do I think about it? I am listening to you. It's all very +well.... You say: join our brotherhood and we will show you the aim of +life, the destiny of man, and the laws which govern the world. But who +are we? Men. How is it you know everything? Why do I alone not see +what you see? You see a reign of goodness and truth on earth, but I +don't see it." + +Pierre interrupted him. + +"Do you believe in a future life?" he asked. + +"A future life?" Prince Andrew repeated, but Pierre, giving him no +time to reply, took the repetition for a denial, the more readily as +he knew Prince Andrew's former atheistic convictions. + +"You say you can't see a reign of goodness and truth on earth. Nor +could I, and it cannot be seen if one looks on our life here as the +end of everything. On earth, here on this earth" (Pierre pointed to +the fields), "there is no truth, all is false and evil; but in the +universe, in the whole universe there is a kingdom of truth, and we +who are now the children of earth are- eternally- children of the +whole universe. Don't I feel in my soul that I am part of this vast +harmonious whole? Don't I feel that I form one link, one step, between +the lower and higher beings, in this vast harmonious multitude of +beings in whom the Deity- the Supreme Power if you prefer the term- is +manifest? If I see, clearly see, that ladder leading from plant to +man, why should I suppose it breaks off at me and does not go +farther and farther? I feel that I cannot vanish, since nothing +vanishes in this world, but that I shall always exist and always +have existed. I feel that beyond me and above me there are spirits, +and that in this world there is truth." + +"Yes, that is Herder's theory," said Prince Andrew, "but it is not +that which can convince me, dear friend- life and death are what +convince. What convinces is when one sees a being dear to one, bound +up with one's own life, before whom one was to blame and had hoped +to make it right" (Prince Andrew's voice trembled and he turned away), +"and suddenly that being is seized with pain, suffers, and ceases to +exist.... Why? It cannot be that there is no answer. And I believe +there is.... That's what convinces, that is what has convinced me," +said Prince Andrew. + +"Yes, yes, of course," said Pierre, "isn't that what I'm saying?" + +"No. All I say is that it is not argument that convinces me of the +necessity of a future life, but this: when you go hand in hand with +someone and all at once that person vanishes there, into nowhere, +and you yourself are left facing that abyss, and look in. And I have +looked in...." + +"Well, that's it then! You know that there is a there and there is a +Someone? There is the future life. The Someone is- God." + +Prince Andrew did not reply. The carriage and horses had long +since been taken off, onto the farther bank, and reharnessed. The +sun had sunk half below the horizon and an evening frost was +starring the puddles near the ferry, but Pierre and Andrew, to the +astonishment of the footmen, coachmen, and ferrymen, still stood on +the raft and talked. + +"If there is a God and future life, there is truth and good, and +man's highest happiness consists in striving to attain them. We must +live, we must love, and we must believe that we live not only today on +this scrap of earth, but have lived and shall live forever, there, +in the Whole," said Pierre, and he pointed to the sky. + +Prince Andrew stood leaning on the railing of the raft listening +to Pierre, and he gazed with his eyes fixed on the red reflection of +the sun gleaming on the blue waters. There was perfect stillness. +Pierre became silent. The raft had long since stopped and only the +waves of the current beat softly against it below. Prince Andrew +felt as if the sound of the waves kept up a refrain to Pierre's words, +whispering: + +"It is true, believe it." + +He sighed, and glanced with a radiant, childlike, tender look at +Pierre's face, flushed and rapturous, but yet shy before his +superior friend. + +"Yes, if it only were so!" said Prince Andrew. "However, it is +time to get on," he added, and, stepping off the raft, he looked up at +the sky to which Pierre had pointed, and for the first time since +Austerlitz saw that high, everlasting sky he had seen while lying on +that battlefield; and something that had long been slumbering, +something that was best within him, suddenly awoke, joyful and +youthful, in his soul. It vanished as soon as he returned to the +customary conditions of his life, but he knew that this feeling +which he did not know how to develop existed within him. His meeting +with Pierre formed an epoch in Prince Andrew's life. Though +outwardly he continued to live in the same old way, inwardly he +began a new life. + +CHAPTER XIII + +It was getting dusk when Prince Andrew and Pierre drove up to the +front entrance of the house at Bald Hills. As they approached the +house, Prince Andrew with asmile drew Pierre's attention to a +commotion going on at the back porch. A woman, bent with age, with a +wallet on her back, and a short, long-haired, young man in a black +garment had rushed back to the gate on seeing the carriage driving up. +Two women ran out after them, and all four, looking round at the +carriage, ran in dismay up the steps of the back porch. + +"Those are Mary's 'God's folk,'" said Prince Andrew. "They have +mistaken us for my father. This is the one matter in which she +disobeys him. He orders these pilgrims to be driven away, but she +receives them." + +"But what are 'God's folk'?" asked Pierre. + +Prince Andrew had no time to answer. The servants came out to meet +them, and he asked where the old prince was and whether he was +expected back soon. + +The old prince had gone to the town and was expected back any +minute. + +Prince Andrew led Pierre to his own apartments, which were always +kept in perfect order and readiness for him in his father's house; +he himself went to the nursery. + +"Let us go and see my sister," he said to Pierre when he returned. +"I have not found her yet, she is hiding now, sitting with her +'God's folk.' It will serve her right, she will be confused, but you +will see her 'God's folk.' It's really very curious." + +"What are 'God's folk'?" asked Pierre. + +"Come, and you'll see for yourself." + +Princess Mary really was disconcerted and red patches came on her +face when they went in. In her snug room, with lamps burning before +the icon stand, a young lad with a long nose and long hair, wearing +a monk's cassock, sat on the sofa beside her, behind a samovar. Near +them, in an armchair, sat a thin, shriveled, old woman, with a meek +expression on her childlike face. + +"Andrew, why didn't you warn me?" said the princess, with mild +reproach, as she stood before her pilgrims like a hen before her +chickens. + +"Charmee de vous voir. Je suis tres contente de vous voir,"~^ she +said to Pierre as he kissed her hand. She had known him as a child, +and now his friendship with Andrew, his misfortune with his wife, +and above all his kindly, simple face disposed her favorably toward +him. She looked at him with her beautiful radiant eyes and seemed to +say, "I like you very much, but please don't laugh at my people." +After exchanging the first greetings, they sat down. + +^~ "Delighted to see you. I am very glad to see you." + +"Ah, and Ivanushka is here too!" said Prince Andrew, glancing with a +smile at the young pilgrim. + +"Andrew!" said Princess Mary, imploringly. "Il faut que vous sachiez +que c'est une femme,"~^ said Prince Andrew to Pierre. + +"Andrew, au nom de Dieu!"~^ Princess Mary repeated. + +^~ "You must know that this is a woman." + +^~ "For heaven's sake." + +It was evident that Prince Andrew's ironical tone toward the +pilgrims and Princess Mary's helpless attempts to protect them were +their customary long-established relations on the matter. + +"Mais, ma bonne amie," said Prince Andrew, "vous devriez au +contraire m'etre reconnaissante de ce que j'explique a Pierre votre +intimite avec ce jeune homme."~^ + +^~ "But, my dear, you ought on the contrary to be grateful to me for +explaining to Pierre your intimacy with this young man." + +"Really?" said Pierre, gazing over his spectacles with curiosity and +seriousness (for which Princess Mary was specially grateful to him) +into Ivanushka's face, who, seeing that she was being spoken about, +looked round at them all with crafty eyes. + +Princess Mary's embarrassment on her people's account was quite +unnecessary. They were not in the least abashed. The old woman, +lowering her eyes but casting side glances at the newcomers, had +turned her cup upside down and placed a nibbled bit of sugar beside +it, and sat quietly in her armchair, though hoping to be offered +another cup of tea. Ivanushka, sipping out of her saucer, looked +with sly womanish eyes from under her brows at the young men. + +"Where have you been? To Kiev?" Prince Andrew asked the old woman. + +"I have, good sir," she answered garrulously. "Just at Christmastime +I was deemed worthy to partake of the holy and heavenly sacrament at +the shrine of the saint. And now I'm from Kolyazin, master, where a +great and wonderful blessing has been revealed." + +"And was Ivanushka with you?" + +"I go by myself, benefactor," said Ivanushka, trying to speak in a +bass voice. "I only came across Pelageya in Yukhnovo..." + +Pelageya interrupted her companion; she evidently wished to tell +what she had seen. + +"In Kolyazin, master, a wonderful blessing has been revealed." + +"What is it? Some new relics?" asked Prince Andrew. + +"Andrew, do leave off," said Princess Mary. "Don't tell him, +Pelageya." + +"No... why not, my dear, why shouldn't I? I like him. He is kind, he +is one of God's chosen, he's a benefactor, he once gave me ten rubles, +I remember. When I was in Kiev, Crazy Cyril says to me (he's one of +God's own and goes barefoot summer and winter), he says, 'Why are +you not going to the right place? Go to Kolyazin where a +wonder-working icon of the Holy Mother of God has been revealed.' On +hearing those words I said good-by to the holy folk and went." + +All were silent, only the pilgrim woman went on in measured tones, +drawing in her breath. + +"So I come, master, and the people say to me: 'A great blessing +has been revealed, holy oil trickles from the cheeks of our blessed +Mother, the Holy Virgin Mother of God'...." + +"All right, all right, you can tell us afterwards," said Princess +Mary, flushing. + +"Let me ask her," said Pierre. "Did you see it yourselves?" he +inquired. + +"Oh, yes, master, I was found worthy. Such a brightness on the +face like the light of heaven, and from the blessed Mother's cheek +it drops and drops...." + +"But, dear me, that must be a fraud!" said Pierre, naively, who +had listened attentively to the pilgrim. + +"Oh, master, what are you saying?" exclaimed the horrified Pelageya, +turning to Princess Mary for support. + +"They impose on the people," he repeated. + +"Lord Jesus Christ!" exclaimed the pilgrim woman, crossing +herself. "Oh, don't speak so, master! There was a general who did +not believe, and said, 'The monks cheat,' and as soon as he'd said +it he went blind. And he dreamed that the Holy Virgin Mother of the +Kiev catacombs came to him and said, 'Believe in me and I will make +you whole.' So he begged: 'Take me to her, take me to her.' It's the +real truth I'm telling you, I saw it myself. So he was brought, +quite blind, straight to her, and he goes up to her and falls down and +says, 'Make me whole,' says he, 'and I'll give thee what the Tsar +bestowed on me.' I saw it myself, master, the star is fixed into the +icon. Well, and what do you think? He received his sight! It's a sin +to speak so. God will punish you," she said admonishingly, turning +to Pierre. + +"How did the star get into the icon?" Pierre asked. + +"And was the Holy Mother promoted to the rank of general?" said +Prince Andrew, with a smile. + +Pelageya suddenly grew quite pale and clasped her hands. + +"Oh, master, master, what a sin! And you who have a son!" she began, +her pallor suddenly turning to a vivid red. "Master, what have you +said? God forgive you!" And she crossed herself. "Lord forgive him! My +dear, what does it mean?..." she asked, turning to Princess Mary. +She got up and, almost crying, began to arrange her wallet. She +evidently felt frightened and ashamed to have accepted charity in a +house where such things could be said, and was at the same time +sorry to have now to forgo the charity of this house. + +"Now, why need you do it?" said Princess Mary. "Why did you come +to me?..." + +"Come, Pelageya, I was joking," said Pierre. "Princesse, ma +parole, je n'ai pas voulu l'offenser.~^ I did not mean anything, I +was only joking," he said, smiling shyly and trying to efface his +offense. "It was all my fault, and Andrew was only joking." + +^~ "Princess, on my word, I did not wish to offend her." + +Pelageya stopped doubtfully, but in Pierre's face there was such a +look of sincere penitence, and Prince Andrew glanced so meekly now +at her and now at Pierre, that she was gradually reassured. + +CHAPTER XIV + +The pilgrim woman was appeased and, being encouraged to talk, gave a +long account of Father Amphilochus, who led so holy a life that his +hands smelled of incense, and how on her last visit to Kiev some monks +she knew let her have the keys of the catacombs, and how she, taking +some dried bread with her, had spent two days in the catacombs with +the saints. "I'd pray awhile to one, ponder awhile, then go on to +another. I'd sleep a bit and then again go and kiss the relics, and +there was such peace all around, such blessedness, that one don't want +to come out, even into the light of heaven again." + +Pierre listened to her attentively and seriously. Prince Andrew went +out of the room, and then, leaving "God's folk" to finish their tea, +Princess Mary took Pierre into the drawing room. + +"You are very kind," she said to him. + +"Oh, I really did not mean to hurt her feelings. I understand them +so well and have the greatest respect for them." + +Princess Mary looked at him silently and smiled affectionately. + +"I have known you a long time, you see, and am as fond of you as +of a brother," she said. "How do you find Andrew?" she added +hurriedly, not giving him time to reply to her affectionate words. +"I am very anxious about him. His health was better in the winter, but +last spring his wound reopened and the doctor said he ought to go away +for a cure. And I am also very much afraid for him spiritually. He has +not a character like us women who, when we suffer, can weep away our +sorrows. He keeps it all within him. Today he is cheerful and in +good spirits, but that is the effect of your visit- he is not often +like that. If you could persuade him to go abroad. He needs +activity, and this quiet regular life is very bad for him. Others +don't notice it, but I see it." + +Toward ten o'clock the men servants rushed to the front door, +hearing the bells of the old prince's carriage approaching. Prince +Andrew and Pierre also went out into the porch. + +"Who's that?" asked the old prince, noticing Pierre as he got out +of, the carriage. + +"Ah! Very glad! Kiss me," he said, having learned who the young +stranger was. + +The old prince was in a good temper and very gracious to Pierre. + +Before supper, Prince Andrew, coming back to his father's study, +found him disputing hotly with his visitor. Pierre was maintaining +that a time would come when there would be no more wars. The old +prince disputed it chaffingly, but without getting angry. + +"Drain the blood from men's veins and put in water instead, then +there will be no more war! Old women's nonsense- old women's +nonsense!" he repeated, but still he patted Pierre affectionately on +the shoulder, and then went up to the table where Prince Andrew, +evidently not wishing to join in the conversation, was looking over +the papers his father had brought from town. The old prince went up to +him and began to talk business. + +"The marshal, a Count Rostov, hasn't sent half his contingent. He +came to town and wanted to invite me to dinner- I gave him a pretty +dinner!... And there, look at this.... Well, my boy," the old prince +went on, addressing his son and patting Pierre on the shoulder. "A +fine fellow- your friend- I like him! He stirs me up. Another says +clever things and one doesn't care to listen, but this one talks +rubbish yet stirs an old fellow up. Well, go! Get along! Perhaps +I'll come and sit with you at supper. We'll have another dispute. Make +friends with my little fool, Princess Mary," he shouted after +Pierre, through the door. + +Only now, on his visit to Bald Hills, did Pierre fully realize the +strength and charm of his friendship with Prince Andrew. That charm +was not expressed so much in his relations with him as with all his +family and with the household. With the stern old prince and the +gentle, timid Princess Mary, though he had scarcely known them, Pierre +at once felt like an old friend. They were all fond of him already. +Not only Princess Mary, who had been won by his gentleness with the +pilgrims, gave him her most radiant looks, but even the one-year-old +"Prince Nicholas" (as his grandfather called him) smiled at Pierre and +let himself be taken in his arms, and Michael Ivanovich and +Mademoiselle Bourienne looked at him with pleasant smiles when he +talked to the old prince. + +The old prince came in to supper; this was evidently on Pierre's +account. And during the two days of the young man's visit he was +extremely kind to him and told him to visit them again. + +When Pierre had gone and the members of the household met +together, they began to express their opinions of him as people always +do after a new acquaintance has left, but as seldom happens, no one +said anything but what was good of him. + +CHAPTER XV + +When returning from his leave, Rostov felt, for the first time, +how close was the bond that united him to Denisov and and the whole +regiment. + +On approaching it, Rostov felt as he had done when approaching his +home in Moscow. When he saw the first hussar with the unbuttoned +uniform of his regiment, when he recognized red-haired Dementyev and +saw the picket ropes of the roan horses, when Lavrushka gleefully +shouted to his master, "The count has come!" and Denisov, who had been +asleep on his bed, ran all disheveled out of the mud hut to embrace +him, and the officers collected round to greet the new arrival, Rostov +experienced the same feeling his mother, his father, and his sister +had embraced him, and tears of joy choked him so that he could not +speak. The regiment was also a home, and as unalterably dear and +precious as his parents' house. + +When he had reported himself to the commander of the regiment and +had been reassigned to his former squadron, had been on duty and had +gone out foraging, when he had again entered into all the little +interests of the regiment and felt himself deprived of liberty and +bound in one narrow, unchanging frame, he experienced the same sense +of peace, of moral support, and the same sense being at home here in +his own place, as he had felt under the parental roof. But here was +none of all that turmoil of the world at large, where he did not +know his right place and took mistaken decisions; here was no Sonya +with whom he ought, or ought not, to have an explanation; here was +no possibility of going there or not going there; here there were +not twenty-four hours in the day which could be spent in such a +variety of ways; there was not that innumerable crowd of people of +whom not one was nearer to him or farther from him than another; there +were none of those uncertain and undefined money relations with his +father, and nothing to recall that terrible loss to Dolokhov. Here, in +the regiment, all was clear and simple. The whole world was divided +into two unequal parts: one, our Pavlograd regiment; the other, all +the rest. And the rest was no concern of his. In the regiment, +everything was definite: who was lieutenant, who captain, who was a +good fellow, who a bad one, and most of all, who was a comrade. The +canteenkeeper gave one credit, one's pay came every four months, there +was nothing to think out or decide, you had only to do nothing that +was considered bad in the Pavlograd regiment and, when given an order, +to do what was clearly, distinctly, and definitely ordered- and all +would be well. + +Having once more entered into the definite conditions of this +regimental life, Rostov felt the joy and relief a tired man feels on +lying down to rest. Life in the regiment, during this campaign, was +all the pleasanter for him, because, after his loss to Dolokhov (for +which, in spite of all his family's efforts to console him, he could +not forgive himself), he had made up his mind to atone for his fault +by serving, not as he had done before, but really well, and by being a +perfectly first-rate comrade and officer- in a word, a splendid man +altogether, a thing which seemed so difficult out in the world, but so +possible in the regiment. + +After his losses, he had determined to pay back his debt to his +parents in five years. He received ten thousand rubles a year, but now +resolved to take only two thousand and leave the rest to repay the +debt to his parents. + +Our army, after repeated retreats and advances and battles at +Pultusk and Preussisch-Eylau, was concentrated near Bartenstein. It +was awaiting the Emperor's arrival and the beginning of a new +campaign. + +The Pavlograd regiment, belonging to that part of the army which had +served in the 1805 campaign, had been recruiting up to strength in +Russia, and arrived too late to take part in the first actions of +the campaign. It had been neither at Pultusk nor at Preussisch-Eylau +and, when it joined the army in the field in the second half of the +campaign, was attached to Platov's division. + +Platov's division was acting independently of the main army. Several +times parts of the Pavlograd regiment had exchanged shots with the +enemy, had taken prisoners, and once had even captured Marshal +Oudinot's carriages. In April the Pavlograds were stationed +immovably for some weeks near a totally ruined and deserted German +village. + +A thaw had set in, it was muddy and cold, the ice on the river +broke, and the roads became impassable. For days neither provisions +for the men nor fodder for the horses had been issued. As no +transports could arrive, the men dispersed about the abandoned and +deserted villages, searching for potatoes, but found few even of +these. + +Everything had been eaten up and the inhabitants had all fled- if +any remained, they were worse than beggars and nothing more could be +taken from them; even the soldiers, usually pitiless enough, instead +of taking anything from them, often gave them the last of their +rations. + +The Pavlograd regiment had had only two men wounded in action, but +had lost nearly half its men from hunger and sickness. In the +hospitals, death was so certain that soldiers suffering from fever, or +the swelling that came from bad food, preferred to remain on duty, and +hardly able to drag their legs went to the front rather than to the +hospitals. When spring came on, the soldiers found a plant just +showing out of the ground that looked like asparagus, which, for +some reason, they called "Mashka's sweet root." It was very bitter, +but they wandered about the fields seeking it and dug it out with +their sabers and ate it, though they were ordered not to do so, as +it was a noxious plant. That spring a new disease broke out broke +out among the soldiers, a swelling of the arms, legs, and face, +which the doctors attributed to eating this root. But in spite of +all this, the soldiers of Denisov's squadron fed chiefly on +"Mashka's sweet root," because it was the second week that the last of +the biscuits were being doled out at the rate of half a pound a man +and the last potatoes received had sprouted and frozen. + +The horses also had been fed for a fortnight on straw from the +thatched roofs and had become terribly thin, though still covered with +tufts of felty winter hair. + +Despite this destitution, the soldiers and officers went on living +just as usual. Despite their pale swollen faces and tattered uniforms, +the hussars formed line for roll call, kept things in order, groomed +their horses, polished their arms, brought in straw from the +thatched roofs in place of fodder, and sat down to dine round the +caldrons from which they rose up hungry, joking about their nasty food +and their hunger. As usual, in their spare time, they lit bonfires, +steamed themselves before them naked; smoked, picked out and baked +sprouting rotten potatoes, told and listened to stories of +Potemkin's and Suvorov's campaigns, or to legends of Alesha the Sly, +or the priest's laborer Mikolka. + +The officers, as usual, lived in twos and threes in the roofless, +half-ruined houses. The seniors tried to collect straw and potatoes +and, in general, food for the men. The younger ones occupied +themselves as before, some playing cards (there was plenty of money, +though there was no food), some with more innocent games, such as +quoits and skittles. The general trend of the campaign was rarely +spoken of, partly because nothing certain was known about it, partly +because there was a vague feeling that in the main it was going badly. + +Rostov lived, as before, with Denisov, and since their furlough they +had become more friendly than ever. Denisov never spoke of Rostov's +family, but by the tender friendship his commander showed him, +Rostov felt that the elder hussar's luckless love for Natasha played a +part in strengthening their friendship. Denisov evidently tried to +expose Rostov to danger as seldom as possible, and after an action +greeted his safe return with evident joy. On one of his foraging +expeditions, in a deserted and ruined village to which he had come +in search of provisions, Rostov found a family consisting of an old +Pole and his daughter with an infant in arms. They were half clad, +hungry, too weak to get away on foot and had no means of obtaining a +conveyance. Rostov brought them to his quarters, placed them in his +own lodging, and kept them for some weeks while the old man was +recovering. One of his comrades, talking of women, began chaffing +Rostov, saying that he was more wily than any of them and that it +would not be a bad thing if he introduced to them the pretty Polish +girl he had saved. Rostov took the joke as an insult, flared up, and +said such unpleasant things to the officer that it was all Denisov +could do to prevent a duel. When the officer had gone away, Denisov, +who did not himself know what Rostov's relations with the Polish +girl might be, began to upbraid him for his quickness of temper, and +Rostov replied: + +"Say what you like.... She is like a sister to me, and I can't +tell you how it offended me... because... well, for that reason...." + +Denisov patted him on the shoulder and began rapidly pacing the room +without looking at Rostov, as was his way at moments of deep feeling. + +"Ah, what a mad bweed you Wostovs are!" he muttered, and Rostov +noticed tears in his eyes. + +CHAPTER XVI + +In April the troops were enlivened by news of the Emperor's arrival, +but Rostov had no chance of being present at the review he held at +Bartenstein, as the Pavlograds were at the outposts far beyond that +place. + +They were bivouacking. Denisov and Rostov were living in an earth +hut, dug out for them by the soldiers and roofed with branches and +turf. The hut was made in the following manner, which had then come +into vogue. A trench was dug three and a half feet wide, four feet +eight inches deep, and eight feet long. At one end of the trench, +steps were cut out and these formed the entrance and vestibule. The +trench itself was the room, in which the lucky ones, such as the +squadron commander, had a board, lying on piles at the end opposite +the entrance, to serve as a table. On each side of the trench, the +earth was cut out to a breadth of about two and a half feet, and +this did duty for bedsteads and couches. The roof was so constructed +that one could stand up in the middle of the trench and could even sit +up on the beds if one drew close to the table. Denisov, who was living +luxuriously because the soldiers of his squadron liked him, had also a +board in the roof at the farther end, with a piece of (broken but +mended) glass in it for a window. When it was very cold, embers from +the soldiers' campfire were placed on a bent sheet of iron on the +steps in the "reception room"- as Denisov called that part of the hut- +and it was then so warm that the officers, of whom there were always +some with Denisov and Rostov, sat in their shirt sleeves. + +In April, Rostov was on orderly duty. One morning, between seven and +eight, returning after a sleepless night, he sent for embers, +changed his rain-soaked underclothes, said his prayers, drank tea, got +warm, then tidied up the things on the table and in his own corner, +and, his face glowing from exposure to the wind and with nothing on +but his shirt, lay down on his back, putting his arms under his +head. He was pleasantly considering the probability of being +promoted in a few days for his last reconnoitering expedition, and was +awaiting Denisov, who had gone out somewhere and with whom he wanted a +talk. + +Suddenly he heard Denisov shouting in a vibrating voice behind the +hut, evidently much excited. Rostov moved to the window to see whom he +was speaking to, and saw the quartermaster, Topcheenko. + +"I ordered you not to let them that Mashka woot stuff!" Denisov +was shouting. "And I saw with my own eyes how Lazarchuk bwought some +fwom the fields." + +"I have given the order again and again, your honor, but they +don't obey," answered the quartermaster. + +Rostov lay down again on his bed and thought complacently: "Let +him fuss and bustle now, my job's done and I'm lying down- capitally!" +He could hear that Lavrushka- that sly, bold orderly of Denisov's- was +talking, as well as the quartermaster. Lavrushka was saying +something about loaded wagons, biscuits, and oxen he had seen when +he had gone out for provisions. + +Then Denisov's voice was heard shouting farther and farther away. +"Saddle! Second platoon!" + +"Where are they off to now?" thought Rostov. + +Five minutes later, Denisov came into the hut, climbed with muddy +boots on the bed, lit his pipe, furiously scattered his things +about, took his leaded whip, buckled on his saber, and went out again. +In answer to Rostov's inquiry where he was going, he answered +vaguely and crossly that he had some business. + +"Let God and our gweat monarch judge me afterwards!" said Denisov +going out, and Rostov heard the hoofs of several horses splashing +through the mud. He did not even trouble to find out where Denisov had +gone. Having got warm in his corner, he fell asleep and did not +leave the hut till toward evening. Denisov had not yet returned. The +weather had cleared up, and near the next hut two officers and a cadet +were playing svayka, laughing as they threw their missiles which +buried themselves in the soft mud. Rostov joined them. In the middle +of the game, the officers saw some wagons approaching with fifteen +hussars on their skinny horses behind them. The wagons escorted by the +hussars drew up to the picket ropes and a crowd of hussars +surrounded them. + +"There now, Denisov has been worrying," said Rostov, "and here are +the provisions." + +"So they are!" said the officers. "Won't the soldiers be glad!" + +A little behind the hussars came Denisov, accompanied by two +infantry officers with whom he was talking. + +Rostov went to meet them. + +"I warn you, Captain," one of the officers, a short thin man, +evidently very angry, was saying. + +"Haven't I told you I won't give them up?" replied Denisov. + +"You will answer for it, Captain. It is mutiny- seizing the +transport of one's own army. Our men have had nothing to eat for two +days." + +"And mine have had nothing for two weeks," said Denisov. + +"It is robbery! You'll answer for it, sir!" said the infantry +officer, raising his voice. + +"Now, what are you pestewing me for?" cried Denisov, suddenly losing +his temper. "I shall answer for it and not you, and you'd better not +buzz about here till you get hurt. Be off! Go!" he shouted at the +officers. + +"Very well, then!" shouted the little officer, undaunted and not +riding away. "If you are determined to rob, I'll..." + +"Go to the devil! quick ma'ch, while you're safe and sound!" and +Denisov turned his horse on the officer. + +"Very well, very well!" muttered the officer, threateningly, and +turning his horse he trotted away, jolting in his saddle. + +"A dog astwide a fence! A weal dog astwide a fence!" shouted Denisov +after him (the most insulting expression a cavalryman can address to a +mounted infantryman) and riding up to Rostov, he burst out laughing. + +"I've taken twansports from the infantwy by force!" he said. +"After all, can't let our men starve." + +The wagons that had reached the hussars had been consigned to an +infantry regiment, but learning from Lavrushka that the transport +was unescorted, Denisov with his hussars had seized it by force. The +soldiers had biscuits dealt out to them freely, and they even shared +them with the other squadrons. + +The next day the regimental commander sent for Denisov, and +holding his fingers spread out before his eyes said: + +"This is how I look at this affair: I know nothing about it and +won't begin proceedings, but I advise you to ride over to the staff +and settle the business there in the commissariat department and if +possible sign a receipt for such and such stores received. If not, +as the demand was booked against an infantry regiment, there will be a +row and the affair may end badly." + +From the regimental commander's, Denisov rode straight to the +staff with a sincere desire to act on this advice. In the evening he +came back to his dugout in a state such as Rostov had never yet seen +him in. Denisov could not speak and gasped for breath. When Rostov +asked what was the matter, he only uttered some incoherent oaths and +threats in a hoarse, feeble voice. + +Alarmed at Denisov's condition, Rostov suggested that he should +undress, drink some water, and send for the doctor. + +"Twy me for wobbewy... oh! Some more water... Let them twy me, but +I'll always thwash scoundwels... and I'll tell the Empewo'... +Ice..." he muttered. + +The regimental doctor, when he came, said it was absolutely +necessary to bleed Denisov. A deep saucer of black blood was taken +from his hairy arm and only then was he able to relate what had +happened to him. + +"I get there," began Denisov. "'Now then, where's your chief's +quarters?' They were pointed out. 'Please to wait.' 'I've widden +twenty miles and have duties to attend to and no time to wait. +Announce me.' Vewy well, so out comes their head chief- also took it +into his head to lecture me: 'It's wobbewy!'- 'Wobbewy,' I say, 'is +not done by man who seizes pwovisions to feed his soldiers, but by him +who takes them to fill his own pockets!' 'Will you please be +silent?' 'Vewy good!' Then he says: 'Go and give a weceipt to the +commissioner, but your affair will be passed on to headquarters.' I go +to the commissioner. I enter, and at the table... who do you think? +No, but wait a bit!... Who is it that's starving us?" shouted Denisov, +hitting the table with the fist of his newly bled arm so violently +that the table nearly broke down and the tumblers on it jumped +about. "Telyanin! 'What? So it's you who's starving us to death! Is +it? Take this and this!' and I hit him so pat, stwaight on his +snout... 'Ah, what a... what...!' and I sta'ted fwashing him... +Well, I've had a bit of fun I can tell you!" cried Denisov, gleeful +and yet angry, his showing under his black mustache. "I'd have +killed him if they hadn't taken him away!" + +"But what are you shouting for? Calm yourself," said Rostov. "You've +set your arm bleeding afresh. Wait, we must tie it up again." + +Denisov was bandaged up again and put to bed. Next day he woke +calm and cheerful. + +But at noon the adjutant of the regiment came into Rostov's and +Denisov's dugout with a grave and serious face and regretfully +showed them a paper addressed to Major Denisov from the regimental +commander in which inquiries were made about yesterday's occurrence. +The adjutant told them that the affair was likely to take a very bad +turn: that a court-martial had been appointed, and that in view of the +severity with which marauding and insubordination were now regarded, +degradation to the ranks would be the best that could be hoped for. + +The case, as represented by the offended parties, was that, after +seizing the transports, Major Denisov, being drunk, went to the +chief quartermaster and without any provocation called him a thief, +threatened to strike him, and on being led out had rushed into the +office and given two officials a thrashing, and dislocated the arm +of one of them. + +In answer to Rostov's renewed questions, Denisov said, laughing, +that he thought he remembered that some other fellow had got mixed +up in it, but that it was all nonsense and rubbish, and he did not +in the least fear any kind of trial, and that if those scoundrels +dared attack him he would give them an answer that they would not +easily forget. + +Denisov spoke contemptuously of the whole matter, but Rostov knew +him too well not to detect that (while hiding it from others) at heart +he feared a court-martial and was worried over the affair, which was +evidently taking a bad turn. Every day, letters of inquiry and notices + +from the court arrived, and on the first of May, Denisov was ordered +to hand the squadron over to the next in seniority and appear before +the staff of his division to explain his violence at the +commissariat office. On the previous day Platov reconnoitered with two +Cossack regiments and two squadrons of hussars. Denisov, as was his +wont, rode out in front of the outposts, parading his courage. A +bullet fired by a French sharpshooter hit him in the fleshy part of +his leg. Perhaps at another time Denisov would not have left the +regiment for so slight a wound, but now he took advantage of it to +excuse himself from appearing at the staff and went into hospital. + +CHAPTER XVII + +In June the battle of Friedland was fought, in which the +Pavlograds did not take part, and after that an armistice was +proclaimed. Rostov, who felt his friend's absence very much, having no +news of him since he left and feeling very anxious about his wound and +the progress of his affairs, took advantage of the armistice to get +leave to visit Denisov in hospital. + +The hospital was in a small Prussian town that had been twice +devastated by Russian and French troops. Because it was summer, when +it is so beautiful out in the fields, the little town presented a +particularly dismal appearance with its broken roofs and fences, its +foul streets, tattered inhabitants, and the sick and drunken +soldiers wandering about. + +The hospital was in a brick building with some of the window +frames and panes broken and a courtyard surrounded by the remains of a +wooden fence that had been pulled to pieces. Several bandaged +soldiers, with pale swollen faces, were sitting or walking about in +the sunshine in the yard. + +Directly Rostov entered the door he was enveloped by a smell of +putrefaction and hospital air. On the stairs he met a Russian army +doctor smoking a cigar. The doctor was followed by a Russian +assistant. + +"I can't tear myself to pieces," the doctor was saying. "Come to +Makar Alexeevich in the evening. I shall be there." + +The assistant asked some further questions. + +"Oh, do the best you can! Isn't it all the same?" The doctor noticed +Rostov coming upstairs. + +"What do you want, sir?" said the doctor. "What do you want? The +bullets having spared you, do you want to try typhus? This is a +pesthouse, sir." + +"How so?" asked Rostov. + +"Typhus, sir. It's death to go in. Only we two, Makeev and I" (he +pointed to the assistant), "keep on here. Some five of us doctors have +died in this place.... When a new one comes he is done for in a week," +said the doctor with evident satisfaction. "Prussian doctors have been +invited here, but our allies don't like it at all." + +Rostov explained that he wanted to see Major Denisov of the hussars, +who was wounded. + +"I don't know. I can't tell you, sir. Only think! I am alone in +charge of three hospitals with more than four hundred patients! It's +well that the charitable Prussian ladies send us two pounds of +coffee and some lint each month or we should be lost!" he laughed. +"Four hundred, sir, and they're always sending me fresh ones. There +are four hundred? Eh?" he asked, turning to the assistant. + +The assistant looked fagged out. He was evidently vexed and +impatient for the talkative doctor to go. + +"Major Denisov," Rostov said again. "He was wounded at Molliten." + +"Dead, I fancy. Eh, Makeev?" queried the doctor, in a tone of +indifference. + +The assistant, however, did not confirm the doctor's words. + +"Is he tall and with reddish hair?" asked the doctor. + +Rostov described Denisov's appearance. + +"There was one like that," said the doctor, as if pleased. "That one +is dead, I fancy. However, I'll look up our list. We had a list. +Have you got it, Makeev?" + +"Makar Alexeevich has the list," answered the assistant. "But if +you'll step into the officers' wards you'll see for yourself," he +added, turning to Rostov. + +"Ah, you'd better not go, sir," said the doctor, "or you may have to +stay here yourself." + +But Rostov bowed himself away from the doctor and asked the +assistant to show him the way. + +"Only don't blame me!" the doctor shouted up after him. + +Rostov and the assistant went into the dark corridor. The smell +was so strong there that Rostov held his nose and had to pause and +collect his strength before he could go on. A door opened to the +right, and an emaciated sallow man on crutches, barefoot and in +underclothing, limped out and, leaning against the doorpost, looked +with glittering envious eyes at those who were passing. Glancing in at +the door, Rostov saw that the sick and wounded were lying on the floor +on straw and overcoats. + +"May I go in and look?" + +"What is there to see?" said the assistant. + +But, just because the assistant evidently did not want him to go in, +Rostov entered the soldiers' ward. The foul air, to which he had +already begun to get used in the corridor, was still stronger here. It +was a little different, more pungent, and one felt that this was where +it originated. + +In the long room, brightly lit up by the sun through the large +windows, the sick and wounded lay in two rows with their heads to +the walls, and leaving a passage in the middle. Most of them were +unconscious and paid no attention to the newcomers. Those who were +conscious raised themselves or lifted their thin yellow faces, and all +looked intently at Rostov with the same expression of hope, of relief, +reproach, and envy of another's health. Rostov went to the middle of +the room and looking through the open doors into the two adjoining +rooms saw the same thing there. He stood still, looking silently +around. He had not at all expected such a sight. Just before him, +almost across the middle of the passage on the bare floor, lay a +sick man, probably a Cossack to judge by the cut of his hair. The +man lay on his back, his huge arms and legs outstretched. His face was +purple, his eyes were rolled back so that only the whites were seen, +and on his bare legs and arms which were still red, the veins stood +out like cords. He was knocking the back of his head against the +floor, hoarsely uttering some word which he kept repeating. Rostov +listened and made out the word. It was "drink, drink, a drink!" Rostov +glanced round, looking for someone who would put this man back in +his place and bring him water. + +"Who looks after the sick here?" he asked the assistant. + +Just then a commissariat soldier, a hospital orderly, came in from +the next room, marching stiffly, and drew up in front of Rostov. + +"Good day, your honor!" he shouted, rolling his eyes at Rostov and +evidently mistaking him for one of the hospital authorities. + +"Get him to his place and give him some water," said Rostov, +pointing to the Cossack. + +"Yes, your honor," the soldier replied complacently, and rolling his +eyes more than ever he drew himself up still straighter, but did not +move. + +"No, it's impossible to do anything here," thought Rostov, +lowering his eyes, and he was going out, but became aware of an +intense look fixed on him on his right, and he turned. Close to the +corner, on an overcoat, sat an old, unshaven, gray-bearded soldier +as thin as a skeleton, with a stern sallow face and eyes intently +fixed on Rostov. The man's neighbor on one side whispered something to +him, pointing at Rostov, who noticed that the old man wanted to +speak to him. He drew nearer and saw that the old man had only one leg +bent under him, the other had been amputated above the knee. His +neighbor on the other side, who lay motionless some distance from +him with his head thrown back, was a young soldier with a snub nose. +His pale waxen face was still freckled and his eyes were rolled +back. Rostov looked at the young soldier and a cold chill ran down his +back. + +"Why, this one seems..." he began, turning to the assistant. + +"And how we've been begging, your honor," said the old soldier, +his jaw quivering. "He's been dead since morning. After all we're men, +not dogs." + +"I'll send someone at once. He shall be taken away- taken away at +once," said the assistant hurriedly. "Let us go, your honor." + +"Yes, yes, let us go," said Rostov hastily, and lowering his eyes +and shrinking, he tried to pass unnoticed between the rows of +reproachful envious eyes that were fixed upon him, and went out of the +room. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Going along the corridor, the assistant led Rostov to the +officers' wards, consisting of three rooms, the doors of which stood +open. There were beds in these rooms and the sick and wounded officers +were lying or sitting on them. Some were walking about the rooms in +hospital dressing gowns. The first person Rostov met in the +officers' ward was a thin little man with one arm, who was walking +about the first room in a nightcap and hospital dressing gown, with +a pipe between his teeth. Rostov looked at him, trying to remember +where he had seen him before. + +"See where we've met again!" said the little man. "Tushin, Tushin, +don't you remember, who gave you a lift at Schon Grabern? And I've had +a bit cut off, you see..." he went on with a smile, pointing to the +empty sleeve of his dressing gown. "Looking for Vasili Dmitrich +Denisov? My neighbor," he added, when he heard who Rostov wanted. +"Here, here," and Tushin led him into the next room, from whence +came sounds of several laughing voices. + +"How can they laugh, or even live at all here?" thought Rostov, +still aware of that smell of decomposing flesh that had been so strong +in the soldiers' ward, and still seeming to see fixed on him those +envious looks which had followed him out from both sides, and the face +of that young soldier with eyes rolled back. + +Denisov lay asleep on his bed with his head under the blanket, +though it was nearly noon. + +"Ah, Wostov? How are you, how are you?" he called out, still in +the same voice as in the regiment, but Rostov noticed sadly that under +this habitual ease and animation some new, sinister, hidden feeling +showed itself in the expression of Denisov's face and the +intonations of his voice. + +His wound, though a slight one, had not yet healed even now, six +weeks after he had been hit. His face had the same swollen pallor as +the faces of the other hospital patients, but it was not this that +struck Rostov. What struck him was that Denisov did not seem glad to +see him, and smiled at him unnaturally. He did not ask about the +regiment, nor about the general state of affairs, and when Rostov +spoke of these matters did not listen. + +Rostov even noticed that Denisov did not like to be reminded of +the regiment, or in general of that other free life which was going on +outside the hospital. He seemed to try to forget that old life and was +only interested in the affair with the commissariat officers. On +Rostov's inquiry as to how the matter stood, he at once produced +from under his pillow a paper he had received from the commission +and the rough draft of his answer to it. He became animated when he +began reading his paper and specially drew Rostov's attention to the +stinging rejoinders he made to his enemies. His hospital companions, +who had gathered round Rostov- a fresh arrival from the world outside- +gradually began to disperse as soon as Denisov began reading his +answer. Rostov noticed by their faces that all those gentlemen had +already heard that story more than once and were tired of it. Only the +man who had the next bed, a stout Uhlan, continued to sit on his +bed, gloomily frowning and smoking a pipe, and little one-armed Tushin +still listened, shaking his head disapprovingly. In the middle of +the reading, the Uhlan interrupted Denisov. + +"But what I say is," he said, turning to Rostov, "it would be best +simply to petition the Emperor for pardon. They say great rewards will +now be distributed, and surely a pardon would be granted...." + +"Me petition the Empewo'!" exclaimed Denisov, in a voice to which he +tried hard to give the old energy and fire, but which sounded like +an expression of irritable impotence. "What for? If I were a wobber +I would ask mercy, but I'm being court-martialed for bwinging +wobbers to book. Let them twy me, I'm not afwaid of anyone. I've +served the Tsar and my countwy honowably and have not stolen! And am I +to be degwaded?... Listen, I'm w'iting to them stwaight. This is +what I say: 'If I had wobbed the Tweasuwy...'" + +"It's certainly well written," said Tushin, "but that's not the +point, Vasili Dmitrich," and he also turned to Rostov. "One has to +submit, and Vasili Dmitrich doesn't want to. You know the auditor told +you it was a bad business. + +"Well, let it be bad," said Denisov. + +"The auditor wrote out a petition for you," continued Tushin, "and +you ought to sign it and ask this gentleman to take it. No doubt he" +(indicating Rostov) "has connections on the staff. You won't find a +better opportunity." + +"Haven't I said I'm not going to gwovel?" Denisov interrupted him, +went on reading his paper. + +Rostov had not the courage to persuade Denisov, though he +instinctively felt that the way advised by Tushin and the other +officers was the safest, and though he would have been glad to be of +service to Denisov. He knew his stubborn will and straightforward +hasty temper. + +When the reading of Denisov's virulent reply, which took more than +an hour, was over, Rostov said nothing, and he spent the rest of the +day in a most dejected state of mind amid Denisov's hospital comrades, +who had round him, telling them what he knew and listening to their +stories. Denisov was moodily silent all the evening. + +Late in the evening, when Rostov was about to leave, he asked +Denisov whether he had no commission for him. + +"Yes, wait a bit," said Denisov, glancing round at the officers, and +taking his papers from under his pillow he went to the window, where +he had an inkpot, and sat down to write. + +"It seems it's no use knocking one's head against a wall!" he +said, coming from the window and giving Rostov a large envelope. In it +was the petition to the Emperor drawn up by the auditor, in which +Denisov, without alluding to the offenses of the commissariat +officials, simply asked for pardon. + +"Hand it in. It seems..." + +He did not finish, but gave a painfully unnatural smile. + +CHAPTER XIX + +Having returned to the regiment and told the commander the state +of Denisov's affairs, Rostov rode to Tilsit with the letter to the +Emperor. + +On the thirteenth of June the French and Russian Emperors arrived in +Tilsit. Boris Drubetskoy had asked the important personage on whom +he was in attendance, to include him in the suite appointed for the +stay at Tilsit. + +"I should like to see the great man," he said, alluding to Napoleon, +whom hitherto he, like everyone else, had always called Buonaparte. + +"You are speaking of Buonaparte?" asked the general, smiling. + +Boris looked at his general inquiringly and immediately saw that +he was being tested. + +"I am speaking, Prince, of the Emperor Napoleon," he replied. The +general patted him on the shoulder, with a smile. + +"You will go far," he said, and took him to Tilsit with him. + +Boris was among the few present at the Niemen on the day the two +Emperors met. He saw the raft, decorated with monograms, saw +Napoleon pass before the French Guards on the farther bank of the +river, saw the pensive face of the Emperor Alexander as he sat in +silence in a tavern on the bank of the Niemen awaiting Napoleon's +arrival, saw both Emperors get into boats, and saw how Napoleon- +reaching the raft first- stepped quickly forward to meet Alexander and +held out his hand to him, and how they both retired into the pavilion. +Since he had begun to move in the highest circles Boris had made it +his habit to watch attentively all that went on around him and to note +it down. At the time of the meeting at Tilsit he asked the names of +those who had come with Napoleon and about the uniforms they wore, and +listened attentively to words spoken by important personages. At the +moment the Emperors went into the pavilion he looked at his watch, and +did not forget to look at it again when Alexander came out. The +interview had lasted an hour and fifty-three minutes. He noted this +down that same evening, among other facts he felt to be of historic +importance. As the Emperor's suite was a very small one, it was a +matter of great importance, for a man who valued his success in the +service, to be at Tilsit on the occasion of this interview between the +two Emperors, and having succeeded in this, Boris felt that henceforth +his position was fully assured. He had not only become known, but +people had grown accustomed to him and accepted him. Twice he had +executed commissions to the Emperor himself, so that the latter knew +his face, and all those at court, far from cold-shouldering him as +at first when they considered him a newcomer, would now have been +surprised had he been absent. + +Boris lodged with another adjutant, the Polish Count Zhilinski. +Zhilinski, a Pole brought up in Paris, was rich, and passionately fond +of the French, and almost every day of the stay at Tilsit, French +officers of the Guard and from French headquarters were dining and +lunching with him and Boris. + +On the evening of the twenty-fourth of June, Count Zhilinski +arranged a supper for his French friends. The guest of honor was an +aide-de-camp of Napoleon's, there were also several French officers of +the Guard, and a page of Napoleon's, a young lad of an old +aristocratic French family. That same day, Rostov, profiting by the +darkness to avoid being recognized in civilian dress. came to Tilsit +and went to the lodging occupied by Boris and Zhilinski. + +Rostov, in common with the whole army from which he came, was far +from having experienced the change of feeling toward Napoleon and +the French- who from being foes had suddenly become friends- that +had taken place at headquarters and in Boris. In the army, Bonaparte +and the French were still regarded with mingled feelings of anger, +contempt, and fear. Only recently, talking with one of Platov's +Cossack officers, Rostov had argued that if Napoleon were taken +prisoner he would be treated not as a sovereign, but as a criminal. +Quite lately, happening to meet a wounded French colonel on the +road, Rostov had maintained with heat that peace was impossible +between a legitimate sovereign and the criminal Bonaparte. Rostov +was therefore unpleasantly struck by the presence of French officers +in Boris' lodging, dressed in uniforms he had been accustomed to see +from quite a different point of view from the outposts of the flank. +As soon as he noticed a French officer, who thrust his head out of the +door, that warlike feeling of hostility which he always experienced at +the sight of the enemy suddenly seized him. He stopped at the +threshold and asked in Russian whether Drubetskoy lived there. +Boris, hearing a strange voice in the anteroom, came out to meet +him. An expression of annoyance showed itself for a moment on his face +on first recognizing Rostov. + +"Ah, it's you? Very glad, very glad to see you," he said, however, +coming toward him with a smile. But Rostov had noticed his first +impulse. + +"I've come at a bad time I think. I should not have come, but I have +business," he said coldly. + +"No, I only wonder how you managed to get away from your regiment. +Dans un moment je suis a vous,"~^ he said, answering someone who called +him. + +^~ "In a minute I shall be at your disposal." + +"I see I'm intruding," Rostov repeated. + +The look of annoyance had already disappeared from Boris' face: +having evidently reflected and decided how to act, he very quietly +took both Rostov's hands and led him into the next room. His eyes, +looking serenely and steadily at Rostov, seemed to be veiled by +something, as if screened by blue spectacles of conventionality. So it +seemed to Rostov. + +"Oh, come now! As if you could come at a wrong time!" said Boris, +and he led him into the room where the supper table was laid and +introduced him to his guests, explaining that he was not a civilian, +but an hussar officer, and an old friend of his. + +"Count Zhilinski- le Comte N. N.- le Capitaine S. S.," said he, +naming his guests. Rostov looked frowningly at the Frenchmen, bowed +reluctantly, and remained silent. + +Zhilinski evidently did not receive this new Russian person very +willingly into his circle and did not speak to Rostov. Boris did not +appear to notice the constraint the newcomer produced and, with the +same pleasant composure and the same veiled look in his eyes with +which he had met Rostov, tried to enliven the conversation. One of the +Frenchmen, with the politeness characteristic of his countrymen, +addressed the obstinately taciturn Rostov, saying that the latter +had probably come to Tilsit to see the Emperor. + +"No, I came on business," replied Rostov, briefly. + +Rostov had been out of humor from the moment he noticed the look +of dissatisfaction on Boris' face, and as always happens to those in a +bad humor, it seemed to him that everyone regarded him with aversion +and that he was in everybody's way. He really was in their way, for he +alone took no part in the conversation which again became general. The +looks the visitors cast on him seemed to say: "And what is he +sitting here for?" He rose and went up to Boris. + +"Anyhow, I'm in your way," he said in a low tone. "Come and talk +over my business and I'll go away." + +"Oh, no, not at all," said Boris. "But if you are tired, come and +lie down in my room and have a rest." + +"Yes, really..." + +They went into the little room where Boris slept. Rostov, without +sitting down, began at once, irritably (as if Boris were to blame in +some way) telling him about Denisov's affair, asking him whether, +through his general, he could and would intercede with the Emperor +on Denisov's behalf and get Denisov's petition handed in. When he +and Boris were alone, Rostov felt for the first time that he could not +look Boris in the face without a sense of awkwardness. Boris, with one +leg crossed over the other and stroking his left hand with the slender +fingers of his right, listened to Rostov as a general listens to the +report of a subordinate, now looking aside and now gazing straight +into Rostov's eyes with the same veiled look. Each time this +happened Rostov felt uncomfortable and cast down his eyes. + +"I have heard of such cases and know that His Majesty is very severe +in such affairs. I think it would be best not to bring it before the +Emperor, but to apply to the commander of the corps.... But in +general, I think..." + +"So you don't want to do anything? Well then, say so!" Rostov almost +shouted, not looking Boris in the face. + +Boris smiled. + +"On the contrary, I will do what I can. Only I thought..." + +At that moment Zhilinski's voice was heard calling Boris. + +"Well then, go, go, go..." said Rostov, and refusing supper and +remaining alone in the little room, he walked up and down for a long +time, hearing the lighthearted French conversation from the next room. + +CHAPTER XX + +Rostov had come to Tilsit the day least suitable for a petition on +Denisov's behalf. He could not himself go to the general in attendance +as he was in mufti and had come to Tilsit without permission to do so, +and Boris, even had he wished to, could not have done so on the +following day. On that day, June 27, the preliminaries of peace were +signed. The Emperors exchanged decorations: Alexander received the +Cross of the Legion of Honor and Napoleon the Order of St. Andrew of +the First Degree, and a dinner had been arranged for the evening, +given by a battalion of the French Guards to the Preobrazhensk +battalion. The Emperors were to be present at that banquet. + +Rostov felt so ill at ease and uncomfortable with Boris that, when +the latter looked in after supper, he pretended to be asleep, and +early next morning went away, avoiding Boris. In his civilian +clothes and a round hat, he wandered about the town, staring at the +French and their uniforms and at the streets and houses where the +Russian and French Emperors were staying. In a square he saw tables +being set up and preparations made for the dinner; he saw the +Russian and French colors draped from side to side of the streets, +with hugh monograms A and N. In the windows of the houses also flags +and bunting were displayed. + +"Boris doesn't want to help me and I don't want to ask him. That's +settled," thought Nicholas. "All is over between us, but I won't leave +here without having done all I can for Denisov and certainly not +without getting his letter to the Emperor. The Emperor!... He is +here!" thought Rostov, who had unconsciously returned to the house +where Alexander lodged. + +Saddled horses were standing before the house and the suite were +assembling, evidently preparing for the Emperor to come out. + +"I may see him at any moment," thought Rostov. "If only I were to +hand the letter direct to him and tell him all... could they really +arrest me for my civilian clothes? Surely not! He would understand +on whose side justice lies. He understands everything, knows +everything. Who can be more just, more magnanimous than he? And even +if they did arrest me for being here, what would it matter?" thought +he, looking at an officer who was entering the house the Emperor +occupied. "After all, people do go in.... It's all nonsense! I'll go +in and hand the letter to the Emperor myself so much the worse for +Drubetskoy who drives me to it!" And suddenly with a determination +he himself did not expect, Rostov felt for the letter in his pocket +and went straight to the house. + +"No, I won't miss my opportunity now, as I did after Austerlitz," he +thought, expecting every moment to meet the monarch, and conscious +of the blood that rushed to his heart at the thought. "I will fall +at his feet and beseech him. He will lift me up, will listen, and will +even thank me. 'I am happy when I can do good, but to remedy injustice +is the greatest happiness,'" Rostov fancied the sovereign saying. +And passing people who looked after him with curiosity, he entered the +porch of the Emperor's house. + +A broad staircase led straight up from the entry, and to the right +he saw a closed door. Below, under the staircase, was a door leading +to the lower floor. + +"Whom do you want?" someone inquired. + +"To hand in a letter, a petition, to His Majesty," said Nicholas, +with a tremor in his voice. + +"A petition? This way, to the officer the officer on duty" (he was +shown the door leading downstairs), "only it won't be accepted." + +On hearing this indifferent voice, Rostov grew frightened at what he +was doing; the thought of meeting the Emperor at any moment was so +fascinating and consequently so alarming that he was ready to run +away, but the official who had questioned him opened the door, and +Rostov entered. + +A short stout man of about thirty, in white breeches and high +boots and a batiste shirt that he had evidently only just put on, +standing in that room, and his valet was buttoning on to the back of +his breeches a new pair of handsome silk-embroidered braces that, +for some reason, attracted Rostov's attention. This man was was +speaking to someone in the adjoining room. + +"A good figure and in her first bloom," he was saying, but on seeing +Rostov, he stopped short and frowned. + +"What is it? A petition?" + +"What is it?" asked the person in the other room. + +"Another petitioner," answered the man with the braces. + +"Tell him to come later. He'll be coming out directly, we must go." + +"Later... later! Tomorrow. It's too late..." + +Rostov turned and was about to go, but the man in the braces stopped +him. + +"Whom have you come from? Who are you?" + +"I come from Major Denisov," answered Rostov. + +"Are you an officer?" + +"Lieutenant Count Rostov." + +"What audacity! Hand it in through your commander. And go along with +you... go," and he continued to put on the uniform the valet handed +him. + +Rostov went back into the hall and noticed that in the porch there +were many officers and generals in full parade uniform, whom he had to +pass. + +Cursing his temerity, his heart sinking at the thought of finding +himself at any moment face to face with the Emperor and being put to +shame and arrested in his presence, fully alive now to the impropriety +of his conduct and repenting of it, Rostov, with downcast eyes, was +making his way out of the house through the brilliant suite when a +familiar voice called him and a hand detained him. + +"What are you doing here, sir, in civilian dress?" asked a deep +voice. + +It was a cavalry general who had obtained the Emperor's special +favor during this campaign, and who had formerly commanded the +division in which Rostov was serving. + +Rostov, in dismay, began justifying himself, but seeing the +kindly, jocular face of the general, he took him aside and in an +excited voice told him the whole affair, asking him to intercede for +Denisov, whom the general knew. Having heard Rostov to the end, the +general shook his head gravely. + +"I'm sorry, sorry for that fine fellow. Give me the letter." + +Hardly had Rostov handed him the letter and finished explaining +Denisov's case, when hasty steps and the jingling of spurs were +heard on the stairs, and the general, leaving him, went to the +porch. The gentlemen of the Emperor's suite ran down the stairs and +went to their horses. Hayne, the same groom who had been at +Austerlitz, led up the Emperor's horse, and the faint creak of a +footstep Rostov knew at once was heard on the stairs. Forgetting the +danger of being recognized, Rostov went close to the porch, together +with some inquisitive civilians, and again, after two years, saw those +features he adored: that same face and same look and step, and the +same union of majesty and mildness.... And the feeling of enthusiasm +and love for his sovereign rose again in Rostov's soul in all its +old force. In the uniform of the Preobrazhensk regiment- white +chamois-leather breeches and high boots- and wearing a star Rostov did +not know (it was that of the Legion d'honneur), the monarch came out +into the porch, putting on his gloves and carrying his hat under his +arm. He stopped and looked about him, brightening everything around by +his glance. He spoke a few words to some of the generals, and, +recognizing the former commander of Rostov's division, smiled and +beckoned to him. + +All the suite drew back and Rostov saw the general talking for +some time to the Emperor. + +The Emperor said a few words to him and took a step toward his +horse. Again the crowd of members of the suite and street gazers +(among whom was Rostov) moved nearer to the Emperor. Stopping beside +his horse, with his hand on the saddle, the Emperor turned to the +cavalry general and said in a loud voice, evidently wishing to be +heard by all: + +"I cannot do it, General. I cannot, because the law is stronger than +I," and he raised his foot to the stirrup. + +The general bowed his head respectfully, and the monarch mounted and +rode down the street at a gallop. Beside himself with enthusiasm, +Rostov ran after him with the crowd. + +CHAPTER XXI + +The Emperor rode to the square where, facing one another, a +battalion of the Preobrazhensk regiment stood on the right and a +battalion of the French Guards in their bearskin caps on the left. + +As the Tsar rode up to one flank of the battalions, which +presented arms, another group of horsemen galloped up to the +opposite flank, and at the head of them Rostov recognized Napoleon. It +could be no one else. He came at a gallop, wearing a small hat, a blue +uniform open over a white vest, and the St. Andrew ribbon over his +shoulder. He was riding a very fine thoroughbred gray Arab horse +with a crimson gold-embroidered saddlecloth. On approaching +Alexander he raised his hat, and as he did so, Rostov, with his +cavalryman's eye, could not help noticing that Napoleon did not sit +well or firmly in the saddle. The battalions shouted "Hurrah!" and +"Vive l'Empereur!" Napoleon said something to Alexander, and both +Emperors dismounted and took each other's hands. Napoleon's face +wore an unpleasant and artificial smile. Alexander was saying +something affable to him. + +In spite of the trampling of the French gendarmes' horses, which +were pushing back the crowd, Rostov kept his eyes on every movement of +Alexander and Bonaparte. It struck him as a surprise that Alexander +treated Bonaparte as an equal and that the latter was quite at ease +with the Tsar, as if such relations with an Emperor were an everyday +matter to him. + +Alexander and Napoleon, with the long train of their suites, +approached the right flank of the Preobrazhensk battalion and came +straight up to the crowd standing there. The crowd unexpectedly +found itself so close to the Emperors that Rostov, standing in the +front row, was afraid he might be recognized. + +"Sire, I ask your permission to present the Legion of Honor to the +bravest of your soldiers," said a sharp, precise voice, articulating +every letter. + +This was said by the undersized Napoleon, looking up straight into +Alexander's eyes. Alexander listened attentively to what was said to +him and, bending his head, smiled pleasantly. + +"To him who has borne himself most bravely in this last war," +added Napoleon, accentuating each syllable, as with a composure and +assurance exasperating to Rostov, he ran his eyes over the Russian +ranks drawn up before him, who all presented arms with their eyes +fixed on their Emperor. + +"Will Your Majesty allow me to consult the colonel?" said +Alexander and took a few hasty steps toward Prince Kozlovski, the +commander of the battalion. + +Bonaparte meanwhile began taking the glove off his small white hand, +tore it in doing so, and threw it away. An aide-de-camp behind him +rushed forward and picked it up. + +"To whom shall it be given?" the Emperor Alexander asked +Koslovski, in Russian in a low voice. + +"To whomever Your Majesty commands." + +The Emperor knit his brows with dissatisfaction and, glancing +back, remarked: + +"But we must give him an answer." + +Kozlovski scanned the ranks resolutely and included Rostov in his +scrutiny. + +"Can it be me?" thought Rostov. + +"Lazarev!" the colonel called, with a frown, and Lazarev, the +first soldier in the rank, stepped briskly forward. + +"Where are you off to? Stop here!" voices whispered to Lazarev who +did not know where to go. Lazarev stopped, casting a sidelong look +at his colonel in alarm. His face twitched, as often happens to +soldiers called before the ranks. + +Napoleon slightly turned his head, and put his plump little hand out +behind him as if to take something. The members of his suite, guessing +at once what he wanted, moved about and whispered as they passed +something from one to another, and a page- the same one Rostov had +seen the previous evening at Boris'- ran forward and, bowing +respectfully over the outstretched hand and not keeping it waiting a +moment, laid in it an Order on a red ribbon. Napoleon, without +looking, pressed two fingers together and the badge was between +them. Then he approached Lazarev (who rolled his eyes and persistently +gazed at his own monarch), looked round at the Emperor Alexander to +imply that what he was now doing was done for the sake of his ally, +and the small white hand holding the Order touched one of Lazarev's +buttons. It was as if Napoleon knew that it was only necessary for his +hand to deign to touch that soldier's breast for the soldier to be +forever happy, rewarded, and distinguished from everyone else in the +world. Napoleon merely laid the cross on Lazarev's breast and, +dropping his hand, turned toward Alexander as though sure that the +cross would adhere there. And it really did. + +Officious hands, Russian and French, immediately seized the cross +and fastened it to the uniform. Lazarev glanced morosely at the little +man with white hands who was doing something to him and, still +standing motionless presenting arms, looked again straight into +Alexander's eyes, as if asking whether he should stand there, or go +away, or do something else. But receiving no orders, he remained for +some time in that rigid position. + +The Emperors remounted and rode away. The Preobrazhensk battalion, +breaking rank, mingled with the French Guards and sat down at the +tables prepared for them. + +Lazarev sat in the place of honor. Russian and French officers +embraced him, congratulated him, and pressed his hands. Crowds of +officers and civilians drew near merely to see him. A rumble of +Russian and French voices and laughter filled the air round the tables +in the square. Two officers with flushed faces, looking cheerful and +happy, passed by Rostov. + +"What d'you think of the treat? All on silver plate," one of them +was saying. "Have you seen Lazarev?" + +"I have." + +"Tomorrow, I hear, the Preobrazhenskis will give them a dinner." + +"Yes, but what luck for Lazarev! Twelve hundred francs' pension +for life." + +"Here's a cap, lads!" shouted a Preobrazhensk soldier, donning a +shaggy French cap. + +"It's a fine thing! First-rate!" + +"Have you heard the password?" asked one Guards' officer of another. +"The day before yesterday it was 'Napoleon, France, bravoure'; +yesterday, 'Alexandre, Russie, grandeur.' One day our Emperor gives it +and next day Napoleon. Tomorrow our Emperor will send a St. George's +Cross to the bravest of the French Guards. It has to be done. He +must respond in kind." + +Boris, too, with his friend Zhilinski, came to see the Preobrazhensk +banquet. On his way back, he noticed Rostov standing by the corner +of a house. + +"Rostov! How d'you do? We missed one another," he said, and could +not refrain from asking what was the matter, so strangely dismal and +troubled was Rostov's face. + +"Nothing, nothing," replied Rostov. + +"You'll call round?" + +"Yes, I will." + +Rostov stood at that corner for a long time, watching the feast from +a distance. a distance. In his mind, a painful process was going on +which he could not bring to a conclusion. Terrible doubts rose in +his soul. Now he remembered Denisov with his changed expression, his +submission, and the whole hospital, with arms and legs torn off and +its dirt and disease. So vividly did he recall that hospital stench of +dead flesh that he looked round to see where the smell came from. Next +he thought of that self-satisfied Bonaparte, with his small white +hand, who was now an Emperor, liked and respected by Alexander. Then +why those severed arms and legs and those dead men?... Then again he +thought of Lazarev rewarded and Denisov punished and unpardoned. He +caught himself harboring such strange thoughts that he was frightened. + +The smell of the food the Preobrazhenskis were eating and a sense of +hunger recalled him from these reflections; he had to get something to +eat before going away. He went to a hotel he had noticed that morning. +There he found so many people, among them officers who, like +himself, had come in civilian clothes, that he had difficulty in +getting a dinner. Two officers of his own division joined him. The +conversation naturally turned on the peace. The officers, his +comrades, like most of the army, were dissatisfied with the peace +concluded after the battle of Friedland. They said that had we held +out a little longer Napoleon would have been done for, as his troops +had neither provisions nor ammunition. Nicholas ate and drank (chiefly +the latter) in silence. He finished a couple of bottles of wine by +himself. The process in his mind went on tormenting him without +reaching a conclusion. He feared to give way to his thoughts, yet +could not get rid of them. Suddenly, on one of the officers' saying +that it was humiliating to look at the French, Rostov began shouting +with uncalled-for wrath, and therefore much to the surprise of the +officers: + +"How can you judge what's best?" he cried, the blood suddenly +rushing to his face. "How can you judge the Emperor's actions? What +right have we to argue? We cannot comprehend either the Emperor's or +his actions!" + +"But I never said a word about the Emperor!" said the officer, +justifying himself, and unable to understand Rostov's outburst, except +on the supposition that he was drunk. + +But Rostov did not listen to him. + +"We are not diplomatic officials, we are soldiers and nothing more," +he went on. "If we are ordered to die, we must die. If we're punished, +it means that we have deserved it, it's not for us to judge. If the +Emperor pleases to recognize Bonaparte as Emperor and to conclude an +alliance with him, it means that that is the right thing to do. If +once we begin judging and arguing about everything, nothing sacred +will be left! That way we shall be saying there is no God- nothing!" +shouted Nicholas, banging the table- very little to the point as it +seemed to his listeners, but quite relevantly to the course of his own +thoughts. + +"Our business is to do our duty, to fight and not to think! That's +all...." said he. + +"And to drink," said one of the officers, not wishing to quarrel. + +"Yes, and to drink," assented Nicholas. "Hullo there! Another +bottle!" he shouted. + +In 1808 the Emperor Alexander went to Erfurt for a fresh interview +with the Emperor Napoleon, and in the upper circles of Petersburg +there was much talk of the grandeur of this important meeting. + +CHAPTER XXII + +In 1809 the intimacy between "the world's two arbiters," as Napoleon +and Alexander were called, was such that when Napoleon declared war on +Austria a Russian corps crossed the frontier to co-operate with our +old enemy Bonaparte against our old ally the Emperor of Austria, and +in court circles the possibility of marriage between Napoleon and +one of Alexander's sisters was spoken of. But besides considerations +of foreign policy, the attention of Russian society was at that time +keenly directed on the internal changes that were being undertaken +in all the departments of government. + +Life meanwhile- real life, with its essential interests of health +and sickness, toil and rest, and its intellectual interests in +thought, science, poetry, music, love, friendship, hatred, and +passions- went on as usual, independently of and apart from +political friendship or enmity with Napoleon Bonaparte and from all +the schemes of reconstruction. + +BOOK SIX: 1808 - 10 + +CHAPTER I + +Prince Andrew had spent two years continuously in the country. + +All the plans Pierre had attempted on his estates- and constantly +changing from one thing to another had never accomplished- were +carried out by Prince Andrew without display and without perceptible +difficulty. + +He had in the highest degree a practical tenacity which Pierre +lacked, and without fuss or strain on his part this set things going. + +On one of his estates the three hundred serfs were liberated and +became free agricultural laborers- this being one of the first +examples of the kind in Russia. On other estates the serfs' compulsory +labor was commuted for a quitrent. A trained midwife was engaged for +Bogucharovo at his expense, and a priest was paid to teach reading and +writing to the children of the peasants and household serfs. + +Prince Andrew spent half his time at Bald Hills with his father +and his son, who was still in the care of nurses. The other half he +spent in "Bogucharovo Cloister," as his father called Prince +Andrew's estate. Despite the indifference to the affairs of the +world he had expressed to Pierre, he diligently followed all that went +on, received many books, and to his surprise noticed that when he or +his father had visitors from Petersburg, the very vortex of life, +these people lagged behind himself- who never left the country- in +knowledge of what was happening in home and foreign affairs. + +Besides being occupied with his estates and reading a great +variety of books, Prince Andrew was at this time busy with a +critical of survey our last two unfortunate campaigns, and with +drawing up a proposal for a reform of the army rules and regulations. + +In the spring of 1809 he went to visit the Ryazan estates which +had been inherited by his son, whose guardian he was. + +Warmed by the spring sunshine he sat in the caleche looking at the +new grass, the first leaves on the birches, and the first puffs of +white spring clouds floating across the clear blue sky. He was not +thinking of anything, but looked absent-mindedly and cheerfully from +side to side. + +They crossed the ferry where he had talked with Pierre the year +before. They went through the muddy village, past threshing floors and +green fields of winter rye, downhill where snow still lodged near +the bridge, uphill where the clay had been liquefied by the rain, past +strips of stubble land and bushes touched with green here and there, +and into a birch forest growing on both sides of the road. In the +forest it was almost hot, no wind could be felt. The birches with +their sticky green leaves were motionless, and lilac-colored flowers +and the first blades of green grass were pushing up and lifting last +year's leaves. The coarse evergreen color of the small fir trees +scattered here and there among the birches was an unpleasant +reminder of winter. On entering the forest the horses began to snort +and sweated visibly. + +Peter the footman made some remark to the coachman; the latter +assented. But apparently the coachman's sympathy was not enough for +Peter, and he turned on the box toward his master. + +"How pleasant it is, your excellency!" he said with a respectful +smile. + +"What?" + +"It's pleasant, your excellency!" + +"What is he talking about?" thought Prince Andrew. "Oh, the +spring, I suppose," he thought as he turned round. "Yes, really +everything is green already.... How early! The birches and cherry +and alders too are coming out.... But the oaks show no sign yet. Ah, +here is one oak!" + +At the edge of the road stood an oak. Probably ten times the age of +the birches that formed the forest, it was ten times as thick and +twice as tall as they. It was an enormous tree, its girth twice as +great as a man could embrace, and evidently long ago some of its +branches had been broken off and its bark scarred. With its huge +ungainly limbs sprawling unsymmetrically, and its gnarled hands and +fingers, it stood an aged, stern, and scornful monster among the +smiling birch trees. Only the dead-looking evergreen firs dotted about +in the forest, and this oak, refused to yield to the charm of spring +or notice either the spring or the sunshine. + +"Spring, love, happiness!" this oak seemed to say. "Are you not +weary of that stupid, meaningless, constantly repeated fraud? Always +the same and always a fraud? There is no spring, no sun, no happiness! +Look at those cramped dead firs, ever the same, and at me too, +sticking out my broken and barked fingers just where they have +grown, whether from my back or my sides: as they have grown so I +stand, and I do not believe in your hopes and your lies." + +As he passed through the forest Prince Andrew turned several times +to look at that oak, as if expecting something from it. Under the oak, +too, were flowers and grass, but it stood among them scowling, +rigid, misshapen, and grim as ever. + +"Yes, the oak is right, a thousand times right," thought Prince +Andrew. "Let others- the young- yield afresh to that fraud, but we +know life, our life is finished!" + +A whole sequence of new thoughts, hopeless but mournfully +pleasant, rose in his soul in connection with that tree. During this +journey he, as it were, considered his life afresh and arrived at +his old conclusion, restful in its hopelessness: that it was not for +him to begin anything anew- but that he must live out his life, +content to do no harm, and not disturbing himself or desiring +anything. + +CHAPTER II + +Prince Andrew had to see the Marshal of the Nobility for the +district in connection with the affairs of the Ryazan estate of +which he was trustee. This Marshal was Count Ilya Rostov, and in the +middle of May Prince Andrew went to visit him. + +It was now hot spring weather. The whole forest was already +clothed in green. It was dusty and so hot that on passing near water +one longed to bathe. + +Prince Andrew, depressed and preoccupied with the business about +which he had to speak to the Marshal, was driving up the avenue in the +grounds of the Rostovs' house at Otradnoe. He heard merry girlish +cries behind some trees on the right and saw group of girls running to +cross the path of his caleche. Ahead of the rest and nearer to him ran +a dark-haired, remarkably slim, pretty girl in a yellow chintz +dress, with a white handkerchief on her head from under which loose +locks of hair escaped. The girl was shouting something but, seeing +that he was a stranger, ran back laughing without looking at him. + +Suddenly, he did not know why, he felt a pang. The day was so +beautiful, the sun so bright, everything around so gay, but that +slim pretty girl did not know, or wish to know, of his existence and +was contented and cheerful in her own separate- probably foolish- +but bright and happy life. "What is she so glad about? What is she +thinking of? Not of the military regulations or of the arrangement +of the Ryazan serfs' quitrents. Of what is she thinking? Why is she so +happy?" Prince Andrew asked himself with instinctive curiosity. + +In 1809 Count Ilya Rostov was living at Otradnoe just as he had done +in former years, that is, entertaining almost the whole province +with hunts, theatricals, dinners, and music. He was glad to see Prince +Andrew, as he was to see any new visitor, and insisted on his +staying the night. + +During the dull day, in the course of which he was entertained by +his elderly hosts and by the more important of the visitors (the old +count's house was crowded on account of an approaching name day), +Prince Andrew repeatedly glanced at Natasha, gay and laughing among +the younger members of the company, and asked himself each time, "What +is she thinking about? Why is she so glad?" + +That night, alone in new surroundings, he was long unable to +sleep. He read awhile and then put out his candle, but relit it. It +was hot in the room, the inside shutters of which were closed. He +was cross with the stupid old man (as he called Rostov), who had +made him stay by assuring him that some necessary documents had not +yet arrived from town, and he was vexed with himself for having +stayed. + +He got up and went to the window to open it. As soon as he opened +the shutters the moonlight, as if it had long been watching for +this, burst into the room. He opened the casement. The night was +fresh, bright, and very still. Just before the window was a row of +pollard trees, looking black on one side and with a silvery light on +the other. Beneath the trees grewsome kind of lush, wet, bushy +vegetation with silver-lit leaves and stems here and there. Farther +back beyond the dark trees a roof glittered with dew, to the right was +a leafy tree with brilliantly white trunk and branches, and above it +shone the moon, nearly at its full, in a pale, almost starless, spring +sky. Prince Andrew leaned his elbows on the window ledge and his +eyes rested on that sky. + +His room was on the first floor. Those in the rooms above were +also awake. He heard female voices overhead. + +"Just once more," said a girlish voice above him which Prince Andrew +recognized at once. + +"But when are you coming to bed?" replied another voice. + +"I won't, I can't sleep, what's the use? Come now for the last +time." + +Two girlish voices sang a musical passage- the end of some song. + +"Oh, how lovely! Now go to sleep, and there's an end of it." + +"You go to sleep, but I can't," said the first voice, coming +nearer to the window. She was evidently leaning right out, for the +rustle of her dress and even her breathing could be heard. +Everything was stone-still, like the moon and its light and the +shadows. Prince Andrew, too, dared not stir, for fear of betraying his +unintentional presence. + +"Sonya! Sonya!" he again heard the first speaker. "Oh, how can you +sleep? Only look how glorious it is! Ah, how glorious! Do wake up, +Sonya!" she said almost with tears in her voice. "There never, never +was such a lovely night before!" + +Sonya made some reluctant reply. + +"Do just come and see what a moon!... Oh, how lovely! Come +here.... Darling, sweetheart, come here! There, you see? I feel like +sitting down on my heels, putting my arms round my knees like this, +straining tight, as tight as possible, and flying away! Like this...." + +"Take care, you'll fall out." + +He heard the sound of a scuffle and Sonya's disapproving voice: +"It's past one o'clock." + +"Oh, you only spoil things for me. All right, go, go!" + +Again all was silent, but Prince Andrew knew she was still sitting +there. From time to time he heard a soft rustle and at times a sigh. + +"O God, O God! What does it mean?" she suddenly exclaimed. "To bed +then, if it must be!" and she slammed the casement. + +"For her I might as well not exist!" thought Prince Andrew while +he listened to her voice, for some reason expecting yet fearing that +she might say something about him. "There she is again! As if it +were on purpose," thought he. + +In his soul there suddenly arose such an unexpected turmoil of +youthful thoughts and hopes, contrary to the whole tenor of his +life, that unable to explain his condition to himself he lay down +and fell asleep at once. + +CHAPTER III + +Next morning, having taken leave of no one but the count, and not +waiting for the ladies to appear, Prince Andrew set off for home. + +It was already the beginning of June when on his return journey he +drove into the birch forest where the gnarled old oak had made so +strange and memorable an impression on him. In the forest the +harness bells sounded yet more muffled than they had done six weeks +before, for now all was thick, shady, and dense, and the young firs +dotted about in the forest did not jar on the general beauty but, +lending themselves to the mood around, were delicately green with +fluffy young shoots. + +The whole day had been hot. Somewhere a storm was gathering, but +only a small cloud had scattered some raindrops lightly, sprinkling +the road and the sappy leaves. The left side of the forest was dark in +the shade, the right side glittered in the sunlight, wet and shiny and +scarcely swayed by the breeze. Everything was in blossom, the +nightingales trilled, and their voices reverberated now near, now +far away. + +"Yes, here in this forest was that oak with which I agreed," thought +Prince Andrew. "But where is it?" he again wondered, gazing at the +left side of the road, and without recognizing it he looked with +admiration at the very oak he sought. The old oak, quite transfigured, +spreading out a canopy of sappy dark-green foliage, stood rapt and +slightly trembling in the rays of the evening sun. Neither gnarled +fingers nor old scars nor old doubts and sorrows were any of them in +evidence now. Through the hard century-old bark, even where there were +no twigs, leaves had sprouted such as one could hardly believe the old +veteran could have produced. + +"Yes, it is the same oak," thought Prince Andrew, and all at once he +was seized by an unreasoning springtime feeling of joy and renewal. +All the best moments of his life suddenly rose to his memory. +Austerlitz with the lofty heavens, his wife's dead reproachful face, +Pierre at the ferry, that girl thrilled by the beauty of the night, +and that night itself and the moon, and.... all this rushed suddenly +to his mind. + +"No, life is not over at thirty-one!" Prince Andrew suddenly decided +finally and decisively. "It is not enough for me to know what I have +in me- everyone must know it: Pierre, and that young girl who wanted +to fly away into the sky, everyone must know me, so that my life may +not be lived for myself alone while others live so apart from it, +but so that it may be reflected in them all, and they and I may live +in harmony!" + +On reaching home Prince Andrew decided to go to Petersburg that +autumn and found all sorts of reasons for this decision. A whole +serics of sensible and logical considerations showing it to be +essential for him to go to Petersburg, and even to re-enter the +service, kept springing up in his mind. He could not now understand +how he could ever even have doubted the necessity of taking an +active share in life, just as a month before he had not understood how +the idea of leaving the quiet country could ever enter his head. It +now seemed clear to him that all his experience of life must be +senselessly wasted unless he applied it to some kind of work and again +played an active part in life. He did not even remember how +formerly, on the strength of similar wretched logical arguments, it +had seemed obvious that he would be degrading himself if he now, after +the lessons he had had in life, allowed himself to believe in the +possibility of being useful and in the possibility of happiness or +love. Now reason suggested quite the opposite. After that journey to +Ryazan he found the country dull; his former pursuits no longer +interested him, and often when sitting alone in his study he got up, +went to the mirror, and gazed a long time at his own face. Then he +would turn away to the portrait of his dead Lise, who with hair curled +a la grecque looked tenderly and gaily at him out of the gilt frame. +She did not now say those former terrible words to him, but looked +simply, merrily, and inquisitively at him. And Prince Andrew, crossing +his arms behind him, long paced the room, now frowning, now smiling, +as he reflected on those irrational, inexpressible thoughts, secret as +a crime, which altered his whole life and were connected with +Pierre, with fame, with the girl at the window, the oak, and woman's +beauty and love. And if anyone came into his room at such moments he +was particularly cold, stern, and above all unpleasantly logical. + +"My dear," Princess Mary entering at such a moment would say, +"little Nicholas can't go out today, it's very cold." + +"If it were hot," Prince Andrew would reply at such times very dryly +to his sister, "he could go out in his smock, but as it is cold he +must wear warm clothes, which were designed for that purpose. That +is what follows from the fact that it is cold; and not that a child +who needs fresh air should remain at home," he would add with +extreme logic, as if punishing someone for those secret illogical +emotions that stirred within him. + +At such moments Princess Mary would think how intellectual work +dries men up. + +CHAPTER IV + +Prince Andrew arrived in Petersburg in August, 1809. It was the time +when the youthful Speranski was at the zenith of his fame and his +reforms were being pushed forward with the greatest energy. That +same August the Emperor was thrown from his caleche, injured his +leg, and remained three weeks at Peterhof, receiving Speranski every +day and no one else. At that time the two famous decrees were being +prepared that so agitated society- abolishing court ranks and +introducing examinations to qualify for the grades of Collegiate +Assessor and State Councilor- and not merely these but a whole state +constitution, intended to change the existing order of government in +Russia: legal, administrative, and financial, from the Council of +State down to the district tribunals. Now those vague liberal dreams +with which the Emperor Alexander had ascended the throne, and which he +had tried to put into effect with the aid of his associates, +Czartoryski, Novosiltsev, Kochubey, and Strogonov- whom he himself +in jest had called his Comite de salut public- were taking shape and +being realized. + +Now all these men were replaced by Speranski on the civil side, +and Arakcheev on the military. Soon after his arrival Prince Andrew, +as a gentleman of the chamber, presented himself at court and at a +levee. The Emperor, though he met him twice, did not favor him with +a single word. It had always seemed to Prince Andrew before that he +was antipathetic to the Emperor and that the latter disliked his +face and personality generally, and in the cold, repellent glance +the Emperor gave him, he now found further confirmation of this +surmise. The courtiers explained the Emperor's neglect of him by His +Majesty's displeasure at Bolkonski's not having served since 1805. + +"I know myself that one cannot help one's sympathies and +antipathies," thought Prince Andrew, "so it will not do to present +my proposal for the reform of the army regulations to the Emperor +personally, but the project will speak for itself." + +He mentioned what he had written to an old field marshal, a friend +of his father's. The field marshal made an appointment to see him, +received him graciously, and promised to inform the Emperor. A few +days later Prince Andrew received notice that he was to go to see +the Minister of War, Count Arakcheev. + +On the appointed day Prince Andrew entered Count Arakcheev's waiting +room at nine in the morning. + +He did not know Arakcheev personally, had never seen him, and all he +had heard of him inspired him with but little respect for the man. + +"He is Minister of War, a man trusted by the Emperor, and I need not +concern myself about his personal qualities: he has been +commissioned to consider my project, so he alone can get it +adopted," thought Prince Andrew as he waited among a number of +important and unimportant people in Count Arakcheev's waiting room. + +During his service, chiefly as an adjutant, Prince Andrew had seen +the anterooms of many important men, and the different types of such +rooms were well known to him. Count Arakcheev's anteroom had quite a +special character. The faces of the unimportant people awaiting +their turn for an audience showed embarrassment and servility; the +faces of those of higher rank expressed a common feeling of +awkwardness, covered by a mask of unconcern and ridicule of +themselves, their situation, and the person for whom they were +waiting. Some walked thoughtfully up and down, others whispered and +laughed. Prince Andrew heard the nickname "Sila Andreevich" and the +words, "Uncle will give it to us hot," in reference to Count +Arakcheev. One general (an important personage), evidently feeling +offended at having to wait so long, sat crossing and uncrossing his +legs and smiling contemptuously to himself. + +But the moment the door opened one feeling alone appeared on all +faces- that of fear. Prince Andrew for the second time asked the +adjutant on duty to take in his name, but received an ironical look +and was told that his turn would come in due course. After some others +had been shown in and out of the minister's room by the adjutant on +duty, an officer who struck Prince Andrew by his humiliated and +frightened air was admitted at that terrible door. This officer's +audience lasted a long time. Then suddenly the grating sound of a +harsh voice was heard from the other side of the door, and the +officer- with pale face and trembling lips- came out and passed +through the waiting room, clutching his head. + +After this Prince Andrew was conducted to the door and the officer +on duty said in a whisper, "To the right, at the window." + +Prince Andrew entered a plain tidy room and saw at the table a man +of forty with a long waist, a long closely cropped head, deep +wrinkles, scowling brows above dull greenish-hazel eyes and an +overhanging red nose. Arakcheev turned his head toward him without +looking at him. + +"What is your petition?" asked Arakcheev. + +"I am not petitioning, your excellency," returned Prince Andrew +quietly. + +Arakcheev's eyes turned toward him. + +"Sit down," said he. "Prince Bolkonski?" + +"I am not petitioning about anything. His Majesty the Emperor has +deigned to send your excellency a project submitted by me..." + +"You see, my dear sir, I have read your project," interrupted +Arakcheev, uttering only the first words amiably and then- again +without looking at Prince Andrew- relapsing gradually into a tone of +grumbling contempt. "You are proposing new military laws? There are +many laws but no one to carry out the old ones. Nowadays everybody +designs laws, it is easier writing than doing." + +"I came at His Majesty the Emperor's wish to learn from your +excellency how you propose to deal with the memorandum I have +presented," said Prince Andrew politely. + +"I have endorsed a resolution on your memorandum and sent it to +the committee. I do not approve of it," said Arakcheev, rising and +taking a paper from his writing table. "Here!" and he handed it to +Prince Andrew. + +Across the paper was scrawled in pencil, without capital letters, +misspelled, and without punctuation: "Unsoundly constructed because +resembles an imitation of the French military code and from the +Articles of War needlessly deviating." + +"To what committee has the memorandum been referred?" inquired +Prince Andrew. + +"To the Committee on Army Regulations, and I have recommended that +your honor should be appointed a member, but without a salary." + +Prince Andrew smiled. + +"I don't want one." + +"A member without salary," repeated Arakcheev. "I have the +honor... Eh! Call the next one! Who else is there?" he shouted, bowing +to Prince Andrew. + +CHAPTER V + +While waiting for the announcement of his appointment to the +committee Prince Andrew looked up his former acquaintances, +particularly those he knew to be in power and whose aid he might need. +In Petersburg he now experienced the same feeling he had had on the +eve of a battle, when troubled by anxious curiosity and irresistibly +attracted to the ruling circles where the future, on which the fate of +millions depended, was being shaped. From the irritation of the +older men, the curiosity of the uninitiated. the reserve of the +initiated, the hurry and preoccupation of everyone, and the +innumerable committees and commissions of whose existence he learned +every day, he felt that now, in 1809, here in Petersburg a vast +civil conflict was in preparation, the commander in chief of which was +a mysterious person he did not know, but who was supposed to be a +man of genius- Speranski. And this movement of reconstruction of which +Prince Andrew had a vague idea, and Speranski its chief promoter, +began to interest him so keenly that the question of the army +regulations quickly receded to a secondary place in his consciousness. + +Prince Andrew was most favorably placed to secure good reception +in the highest and most diverse Petersburg circles of the day. The +reforming party cordially welcomed and courted him, the first place +because he was reputed to be clever and very well read, and secondly +because by liberating his serfs he had obtained the reputation of +being a liberal. The party of the old and dissatisfied, who censured +the innovations, turned to him expecting his sympathy in their +disapproval of the reforms, simply because he was the son of his +father. The feminine society world welcomed him gladly, because he was +rich, distinguished, a good match, and almost a newcomer, with a +halo of romance on account of his supposed death and the tragic loss +of his wife. Besides this the general opinion of all who had known him +previously was that he had greatly improved during these last five +years, having softened and grown more manly, lost his former +affectation, pride, and contemptuous irony, and acquired the +serenity that comes with years. People talked about him, were +interested in him, and wanted to meet him. + +The day after his interview with Count Arakcheev, Prince Andrew +spent the evening at Count Kochubey's. He told the count of his +interview with Sila Andreevich (Kochubey spoke of Arakcheev by that +nickname with the same vague irony Prince Andrew had noticed in the +Minister of War's anteroom). + +"Mon cher, even in this case you can't do without Michael +Mikhaylovich Speranski. He manages everything. I'll speak to him. He +has promised to come this evening." + +"What has Speranski to do with the army regulations?" asked Prince +Andrew. + +Kochubey shook his head smilingly, as if surprised at Bolkonski's +simplicity. + +"We were talking to him about you a few days ago," Kochubey +continued, "and about your freed plowmen." + +"Oh, is it you, Prince, who have freed your serfs?" said an old +man of Catherine's day, turning contemptuously toward Bolkonski. + +"It was a small estate that brought in no profit," replied Prince +Andrew, trying to extenuate his action so as not to irritate the old +man uselessly. + +"Afraid of being late..." said the old man, looking at Kochubey. + +"There's one thing I don't understand," he continued. "Who will plow +the land if they are set free? It is easy to write laws, but difficult +to rule.... Just the same as now- I ask you, Count- who will be +heads of the departments when everybody has to pass examinations?" + +"Those who pass the examinations, I suppose," replied Kochubey, +crossing his legs and glancing round. + +"Well, I have Pryanichnikov serving under me, a splendid man, a +priceless man, but he's sixty. Is he to go up for examination?" + +"Yes, that's a difficulty, as education is not at all general, +but..." + +Count Kochubey did not finish. He rose, took Prince Andrew by the +arm, and went to meet a tall, bald, fair man of about forty with a +large open forehead and a long face of unusual and peculiar whiteness, +who was just entering. The newcomer wore a blue swallow-tail coat with +a cross suspended from his neck and a star on his left breast. It +was Speranski. Prince Andrew recognized him at once, and felt a +throb within him, as happens at critical moments of life. Whether it +was from respect, envy, or anticipation, he did not know. +Speranski's whole figure was of a peculiar type that made him easily +recognizable. In the society in which Prince Andrew lived he had never +seen anyone who together with awkward and clumsy gestures possessed +such calmness and self-assurance; he had never seen so resolute yet +gentle an expression as that in those half-closed, rather humid +eyes, or so firm a smile that expressed nothing; nor had he heard such +a refined, smooth, soft voice; above all he had never seen such +delicate whiteness of face or hands- hands which were broad, but +very plump, soft, and white. Such whiteness and softness Prince Andrew +had only seen on the faces of soldiers who had been long in +hospital. This was Speranski, Secretary of State, reporter to the +Emperor and his companion at Erfurt, where he had more than once met +and talked with Napoleon. + +Speranski did not shift his eyes from one face to another as +people involuntarily do on entering a large company and was in no +hurry to speak. He spoke slowly, with assurance that he would be +listened to, and he looked only at the person with whom he was +conversing. + +Prince Andrew followed Speranski's every word and movement with +particular attention. As happens to some people, especially to men who +judge those near to them severely, he always on meeting anyone new- +especially anyone whom, like Speranski, he knew by reputation- +expected to discover in him the perfection of human qualities. + +Speranski told Kochubey he was sorry he had been unable to come +sooner as he had been detained at the palace. He did not say that +the Emperor had kept him, and Prince Andrew noticed this affectation +of modesty. When Kochubey introduced Prince Andrew, Speranski slowly +turned his eyes to Bolkonski with his customary smile and looked at +him in silence. + +"I am very glad to make your acquaintance. I had heard of you, as +everyone has," he said after a pause. + +Kochubey said a few words about the reception Arakcheev had given +Bolkonski. Speranski smiled more markedly. + +"The chairman of the Committee on Army Regulations is my good friend +Monsieur Magnitski," he said, fully articulating every word and +syllable, "and if you like I can put you in touch with him." He paused +at the full stop. "I hope you will find him sympathetic and ready to +co-operate in promoting all that is reasonable." + +A circle soon formed round Speranski, and the old man who had talked +about his subordinate Pryanichnikov addressed a question to him. + +Prince Andrew without joining in the conversation watched every +movement of Speranski's: this man, not long since an insignificant +divinity student, who now, Bolkonski thought, held in his hands- those +plump white hands- the fate of Russia. Prince Andrew was struck by the +extraordinarily disdainful composure with which Speranski answered the +old man. He appeared to address condescending words to him from an +immeasurable height. When the old man began to speak too loud, +Speranski smiled and said he could not judge of the advantage or +disadvantage of what pleased the sovereign. + +Having talked for a little while in the general circle, Speranski +rose and coming up to Prince Andrew took him along to the other end of +the room. It was clear that he thought it necessary to interest +himself in Bolkonski. + +"I had no chance to talk with you, Prince, during the animated +conversation in which that venerable gentleman involved me," he said +with a mildly contemptuous smile, as if intimating by that smile +that he and Prince Andrew understood the insignificance of the +people with whom he had just been talking. This flattered Prince +Andrew. "I have known of you for a long time: first from your action +with regard to your serfs, a first example, of which it is very +desirable that there should be more imitators; and secondly because +you are one of those gentlemen of the chamber who have not +considered themselves offended by the new decree concerning the +ranks allotted to courtiers, which is causing so much gossip and +tittle-tattle." + +"No," said Prince Andrew, "my father did not wish me to take +advantage of the privilege. I began the service from the lower grade." + +"Your father, a man of the last century, evidently stands above +our contemporaries who so condemn this measure which merely +reestablishes natural justice." + +"I think, however, that these condemnations have some ground," +returned Prince Andrew, trying to resist Speranski's influence, of +which he began to be conscious. He did not like to agree with him in +everything and felt a wish to contradict. Though he usually spoke +easily and well, he felt a difficulty in expressing himself now +while talking with Speranski. He was too much absorbed in observing +the famous man's personality. + +"Grounds of personal ambition maybe," Speranski put in quietly. + +"And of state interest to some extent," said Prince Andrew. + +"What do you mean?" asked Speranski quietly, lowering his eyes. + +"I am an admirer of Montesquieu," replied Prince Andrew, "and his +idea that le principe des monarchies est l'honneur me parait +incontestable. Certains droits et privileges de la noblesse me +paraissent etre des moyens de soutenir ce sentiment."~^ + +^~ "The principle of monarchies is honor seems to me incontestable. +Certain rights and privileges for the aristocracy appear to me a means +of maintaining that sentiment." + +The smile vanished from Speranski's white face, which was much +improved by the change. Probably Prince Andrew's thought interested +him. + +"Si vous envisagez la question sous ce point de vue,"~^ he began, +pronouncing French with evident difficulty, and speaking even slower +than in Russian but quite calmly. + +^~ "If you regard the question from that point of view." + +Speranski went on to say that honor, l'honeur, cannot be upheld by +privileges harmful to the service; that honor, l'honneur, is either +a negative concept of not doing what is blameworthy or it is a +source of emulation in pursuit of commendation and rewards, which +recognize it. His arguments were concise, simple, and clear. + +"An institution upholding honor, the source of emulation, is one +similar to the Legion d'honneur of the great Emperor Napoleon, not +harmful but helpful to the success of the service, but not a class +or court privilege." + +"I do not dispute that, but it cannot be denied that court +privileges have attained the same end," returned Prince Andrew. "Every +courtier considers himself bound to maintain his position worthily." + +"Yet you do not care to avail yourself of the privilege, Prince," +said Speranski, indicating by a smile that he wished to finish amiably +an argument which was embarrassing for his companion. "If you will + +do me the honor of calling on me on Wednesday," he added, "I will, +after talking with Magnitski, let you know what may interest you, +and shall also have the pleasure of a more detailed chat with you." + +Closing his eyes, he bowed a la francaise, without taking leave, and +trying to attract as little attention as possible, he left the room. + +CHAPTER VI + +During the first weeks of his stay in Petersburg Prince Andrew +felt the whole trend of thought he had formed during his life of +seclusion quite overshadowed by the trifling cares that engrossed +him in that city. + +On returning home in the evening he would jot down in his notebook +four or five necessary calls or appointments for certain hours. The +mechanism of life, the arrangement of the day so as to be in time +everywhere, absorbed the greater part of his vital energy. He did +nothing, did not even think or find time to think, but only talked, +and talked successfully, of what he had thought while in the country. + +He sometimes noticed with dissatisfaction that he repeated the +same remark on the same day in different circles. But he was so busy +for whole days together that he had no time to notice that he was +thinking of nothing. + +As he had done on their first meeting at Kochubey's, Speranski +produced a strong impression on Prince Andrew on the Wednesday, when +he received him tete-a-tate at his own house and talked to him long +and confidentially. + +To Bolkonski so many people appeared contemptible and +insignificant creatures, and he so longed to find in someone the +living ideal of that perfection toward which he strove, that he +readily believed that in Speranski he had found this ideal of a +perfectly rational and virtuous man. Had Speranski sprung from the +same class as himself and possessed the same breeding and +traditions, Bolkonski would soon have discovered his weak, human, +unheroic sides; but as it was, Speranski's strange and logical turn of +mind inspired him with respect all the more because he did not quite +understand him. Moreover, Speranski, either because he appreciated the +other's capacity or because he considered it necessary to win him to +his side, showed off his dispassionate calm reasonableness before +Prince Andrew and flattered him with that subtle flattery which goes +hand in hand with self-assurance and consists in a tacit assumption +that one's companion is the only man besides oneself capable of +understanding the folly of the rest of mankind and the +reasonableness and profundity of one's own ideas. + +During their long conversation on Wednesday evening, Speranski +more than once remarked: "We regard everything that is above the +common level of rooted custom..." or, with a smile: "But we want the +wolves to be fed and the sheep to be safe..." or: "They cannot +understand this..." and all in a way that seemed to say: "We, you +and I, understand what they are and who we are." + +This first long conversation with Speranski only strengthened in +Prince Andrew the feeling he had experienced toward him at their first +meeting. He saw in him a remarkable, clear-thinking man of vast +intellect who by his energy and persistence had attained power, +which he was using solely for the welfare of Russia. In Prince +Andrew's eyes Speranski was the man he would himself have wished to +be- one who explained all the facts of life reasonably, considered +important only what was rational, and was capable of applying the +standard of reason to everything. Everything seemed so simple and +clear in Speranski's exposition that Prince Andrew involuntarily +agreed with him about everything. If he replied and argued, it was +only because he wished to maintain his independence and not submit +to Speranski's opinions entirely. Everything was right and +everything was as it should be: only one thing disconcerted Prince +Andrew. This was Speranski's cold, mirrorlike look, which did not +allow one to penetrate to his soul, and his delicate white hands, +which Prince Andrew involuntarily watched as one does watch the +hands of those who possess power. This mirrorlike gaze and those +delicate hands irritated Prince Andrew, he knew not why. He was +unpleasantly struck, too, by the excessive contempt for others that he +observed in Speranski, and by the diversity of lines of argument he +used to support his opinions. He made use of every kind of mental +device, except analogy, and passed too boldly, it seemed to Prince +Andrew, from one to another. Now he would take up the position of a +practical man and condemn dreamers; now that of a satirist, and +laugh ironically at his opponents; now grow severely logical, or +suddenly rise to the realm of metaphysics. (This last resource was one +he very frequently employed.) He would transfer a question to +metaphysical heights, pass on to definitions of space, time, and +thought, and, having deduced the refutation he needed, would again +descend to the level of the original discussion. + +In general the trait of Speranski's mentality which struck Prince +Andrew most was his absolute and unshakable belief in the power and +authority of reason. It was evident that the thought could never occur +to him which to Prince Andrew seemed so natural, namely, that it is +after all impossible to express all one thinks; and that he had +never felt the doubt, "Is not all I think and believe nonsense?" And +it was just this peculiarity of Speranski's mind that particularly +attracted Prince Andrew. + +During the first period of their acquaintance Bolkonski felt a +passionate admiration for him similar to that which he had once felt +for Bonaparte. The fact that Speranski was the son of a village +priest, and that stupid people might meanly despise him on account +of his humble origin (as in fact many did), caused Prince Andrew to +cherish his sentiment for him the more, and unconsciously to +strengthen it. + +On that first evening Bolkonski spent with him, having mentioned the +Commission for the Revision of the Code of Laws, Speranski told him +sarcastically that the Commission had existed for a hundred and +fifty years, had cost millions, and had done nothing except that +Rosenkampf had stuck labels on the corresponding paragraphs of the +different codes. + +"And that is all the state has for the millions it has spent," +said he. "We want to give the Senate new juridical powers, but we have +no laws. That is why it is a sin for men like you, Prince, not to +serve in these times!" + +Prince Andrew said that for that work an education in +jurisprudence was needed which he did not possess. + +"But nobody possesses it, so what would you have? It is a vicious +circle from which we must break a way out." + +A week later Prince Andrew was a member of the Committee on Army +Regulations and- what he had not at all expected- was chairman of a +section of the committee for the revision of the laws. At +Speranski's request he took the first part of the Civil Code that +was being drawn up and, with the aid of the Code Napoleon and the +Institutes of Justinian, he worked at formulating the section on +Personal Rights. + +CHAPTER VII + +Nearly two years before this, in 1808, Pierre on returning to +Petersburg after visiting his estates had involuntarily found +himself in a leading position among the Petersburg Freemasons. He +arranged dining and funeral lodge meetings, enrolled new members, +and busied himself uniting various lodges and acquiring authentic +charters. He gave money for the erection of temples and supplemented +as far as he could the collection of alms, in regard to which the +majority of members were stingy and irregular. He supported almost +singlehanded a poorhouse the order had founded in Petersburg. + +His life meanwhile continued as before, with the same infatuations +and dissipations. He liked to dine and drink well, and though he +considered it immoral and humiliating could not resist the temptations +of the bachelor circles in which he moved. + +Amid the turmoil of his activities and distractions, however, Pierre +at the end of a year began to feel that the more firmly he tried to +rest upon it, the more Masonic ground on which he stood gave way under +him. At the same time he felt that the deeper the ground sank under +him the closer bound he involuntarily became to the order. When he had +joined the Freemasons he had experienced the feeling of one who +confidently steps onto the smooth surface of a bog. When he put his +foot down it sank in. To make quite sure of the firmness the ground, +he put his other foot down and sank deeper still, became stuck in +it, and involuntarily waded knee-deep in the bog. + +Joseph Alexeevich was not in Petersburg- he had of late stood +aside from the affairs of the Petersburg lodges, and lived almost +entirely in Moscow. All the members of the lodges were men Pierre knew +in ordinary life, and it was difficult for him to regard them merely +as Brothers in Freemasonry and not as Prince B. or Ivan Vasilevich D., +whom he knew in society mostly as weak and insignificant men. Under +the Masonic aprons and insignia he saw the uniforms and decorations at +which they aimed in ordinary life. Often after collecting alms, and +reckoning up twenty to thirty rubles received for the most part in +promises from a dozen members, of whom half were as well able to pay +as himself, Pierre remembered the Masonic vow in which each Brother +promised to devote all his belongings to his neighbor, and doubts on +which he tried not to dwell arose in his soul. + +He divided the Brothers he knew into four categories. In the first +he put those who did not take an active part in the affairs of the +lodges or in human affairs, but were exclusively occupied with the +mystical science of the order: with questions of the threefold +designation of God, the three primordial elements- sulphur, mercury, +and salt- or the meaning of the square and all the various figures +of the temple of Solomon. Pierre respected this class of Brothers to +which the elder ones chiefly belonged, including, Pierre thought, +Joseph Alexeevich himself, but he did not share their interests. His +heart was not in the mystical aspect of Freemasonry. + +In the second category Pierre reckoned himself and others like +him, seeking and vacillating, who had not yet found in Freemasonry a +straight and comprehensible path, but hoped to do so. + +In the third category he included those Brothers (the majority) +who saw nothing in Freemasonry but the external forms and +ceremonies, and prized the strict performance of these forms without +troubling about their purport or significance. Such were Willarski and +even the Grand Master of the principal lodge. + +Finally, to the fourth category also a great many Brothers belonged, +particularly those who had lately joined. These according to +Pierre's observations were men who had no belief in anything, nor +desire for anything, but joined the Freemasons merely to associate +with the wealthy young Brothers who were influential through their +connections or rank, and of whom there were very many in the lodge. + +Pierre began to feel dissatisfied with what he was doing. +Freemasonry, at any rate as he saw it here, sometimes seemed to him +based merely on externals. He did not think of doubting Freemasonry +itself, but suspected that Russian Masonry had taken a wrong path +and deviated from its original principles. And so toward the end of +the year he went abroad to be initiated into the higher secrets of the +order. + +In the summer of 1809 Pierre returned to Petersburg. Our +Freemasons knew from correspondence with those abroad that Bezukhov +had obtained the confidence of many highly placed persons, had been +initiated into many mysteries, had been raised to a higher grade, +and was bringing back with him much that might conduce to the +advantage of the Masonic cause in Russia. The Petersburg Freemasons +all came to see him, tried to ingratiate themselves with him, and it +seemed to them all that he was preparing something for them and +concealing it. + +A solemn meeting of the lodge of the second degree was convened, +at which Pierre promised to communicate to the Petersburg Brothers +what he had to deliver to them from the highest leaders of their +order. The meeting was a full one. After the usual ceremonies Pierre +rose and began his address. + +"Dear Brothers," he began, blushing and stammering, with a written +speech in his hand, "it is not sufficient to observe our mysteries +in the seclusion of our lodge- we must act- act! We are drowsing, +but we must act." Pierre raised his notebook and began to read. + +"For the dissemination of pure truth and to secure the triumph of +virtue," he read, "we must cleanse men from prejudice, diffuse +principles in harmony with the spirit of the times, undertake the +education of the young, unite ourselves in indissoluble bonds with the +wisest men, boldly yet prudently overcome superstitions, infidelity, +and folly, and form of those devoted to us a body linked together by +unity of purpose and possessed of authority and power. + +"To attain this end we must secure a preponderance of virtue over +vice and must endeavor to secure that the honest man may, even in this +world, receive a lasting reward for his virtue. But in these great +endeavors we are gravely hampered by the political institutions of +today. What is to be done in these circumstances? To favor +revolutions, overthrow everything, repel force by force?... No! We are +very far from that. Every violent reform deserves censure, for it +quite fails to remedy evil while men remain what they are, and also +because wisdom needs no violence. + +"The whole plan of our order should be based on the idea of +preparing men of firmness and virtue bound together by unity of +conviction- aiming at the punishment of vice and folly, and +patronizing talent and virtue: raising worthy men from the dust and +attaching them to our Brotherhood. Only then will our order have the +power unobtrusively to bind the hands of the protectors of disorder +and to control them without their being aware of it. In a word, we +must found a form of government holding universal sway, which should +be diffused over the whole world without destroying the bonds of +citizenship, and beside which all other governments can continue in +their customary course and do everything except what impedes the great +aim of our order, which is to obtain for virtue the victory over vice. +This aim was that of Christianity itself. It taught men to be wise and +good and for their own benefit to follow the example and instruction +of the best and wisest men. + +"At that time, when everything was plunged in darkness, preaching +alone was of course sufficient. The novelty of Truth endowed her +with special strength, but now we need much more powerful methods. +It is now necessary that man, governed by his senses, should find in +virtue a charm palpable to those senses. It is impossible to eradicate +the passions; but we must strive to direct them to a noble aim, and it +is therefore necessary that everyone should be able to satisfy his +passions within the limits of virtue. Our order should provide means +to that end. + +"As soon as we have a certain number of worthy men in every state, +each of them again training two others and all being closely united, +everything will be possible for our order, which has already in secret +accomplished much for the welfare of mankind." + +This speech not only made a strong impression, but created +excitement in the lodge. The majority of the Brothers, seeing in it +dangerous designs of Illuminism,~^ met it with a coldness that +surprised Pierre. The Grand Master began answering him, and Pierre +began developing his views with more and more warmth. It was long +since there had been so stormy a meeting. Parties were formed, some +accusing Pierre of Illuminism, others supporting him. At that +meeting he was struck for the first time by the endless variety of +men's minds, which prevents a truth from ever presenting itself +identically to two persons. Even those members who seemed to be on his +side understood him in their own way with limitations and +alterations he could not agree to, as what he always wanted most was +to convey his thought to others just as he himself understood it. + +^~ The Illuminati sought to substitute republican for monarchical +institutions. + +At the end of the meeting the Grand Master with irony and ill-will +reproved Bezukhov for his vehemence and said it was not love of virtue +alone, but also a love of strife that had moved him in the dispute. +Pierre did not answer him and asked briefly whether his proposal would +be accepted. He was told that it would not, and without waiting for +the usual formalities he left the lodge and went home. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Again Pierre was overtaken by the depression he so dreaded. For +three days after the delivery of his speech at the lodge he lay on a +sofa at home receiving no one and going nowhere. + +It was just then that he received a letter from his wife, who +implored him to see her, telling him how grieved she was about him and +how she wished to devote her whole life to him. + +At the end of the letter she informed him that in a few days she +would return to Petersburg from abroad. + +Following this letter one of the Masonic Brothers whom Pierre +respected less than the others forced his way in to see him and, +turning the conversation upon Pierre's matrimonial affairs, by way +of fraternal advice expressed the opinion that his severity to his +wife was wrong and that he was neglecting one of the first rules of +Freemasonry by not forgiving the penitent. + +At the same time his mother-in-law, Prince Vasili's wife, sent to +him imploring him to come if only for a few minutes to discuss a +most important matter. Pierre saw that there was a conspiracy +against him and that they wanted to reunite him with his wife, and +in the mood he then was, this was not even unpleasant to him. +Nothing mattered to him. Nothing in life seemed to him of much +importance, and under the influence of the depression that possessed +him he valued neither his liberty nor his resolution to punish his +wife. + +"No one is right and no one is to blame; so she too is not to +blame," he thought. + +If he did not at once give his consent to a reunion with his wife, +it was only because in his state of depression he did not feel able to +take any step. Had his wife come to him, he would not have turned +her away. Compared to what preoccupied him, was it not a matter of +indifference whether he lived with his wife or not? + +Without replying either to his wife or his mother-in-law, Pierre +late one night prepared for a journey and started for Moscow to see +Joseph Alexeevich. This is what he noted in his diary: + +Moscow, 17th November + +I have just returned from my benefactor, and hasten to write down +what I have experienced. Joseph Alexeevich is living poorly and has +for three years been suffering from a painful disease of the +bladder. No one has ever heard him utter a groan or a word of +complaint. From morning till late at night, except when he eats his +very plain food, he is working at science. He received me graciously +and made me sit down on the bed on which he lay. I made the sign of +the Knights of the East and of Jerusalem, and he responded in the same +manner, asking me with a mild smile what I had learned and gained in +the Prussian and Scottish lodges. I told him everything as best I +could, and told him what I had proposed to our Petersburg lodge, of +the bad reception I had encountered, and of my rupture with the +Brothers. Joseph Alexeevich, having remained silent and thoughtful for +a good while, told me his view of the matter, which at once lit up for +me my whole past and the future path I should follow. He surprised +me by asking whether I remembered the threefold aim of the order: +(1) The preservation and study of the mystery. (2) The purification +and reformation of oneself for its reception, and (3) The +improvement of the human race by striving for such purification. Which +is the principal aim of these three? Certainly self-reformation and +self-purification. Only to this aim can we always strive independently +of circumstances. But at the same time just this aim demands the +greatest efforts of us; and so, led astray by pride, losing sight of +this aim, we occupy ourselves either with the mystery which in our +impurity we are unworthy to receive, or seek the reformation of the +human race while ourselves setting an example of baseness and +profligacy. Illuminism is not a pure doctrine, just because it is +attracted by social activity and puffed up by pride. On this ground +Joseph Alexeevich condemned my speech and my whole activity, and in +the depth of my soul I agreed with him. Talking of my family affairs +he said to me, "the chief duty of a true Mason, as I have told you, +lies in perfecting himself. We often think that by removing all the +difficulties of our life we shall more quickly reach our aim, but on +the contrary, my dear sir, it is only in the midst of worldly cares +that we can attain our three chief aims: (1) Self-knowledge- for man +can only know himself by comparison, (2) Self-perfecting, which can +only be attained by conflict, and (3) The attainment of the chief +virtue- love of death. Only the vicissitudes of life can show us its +vanity and develop our innate love of death or of rebirth to a new +life." These words are all the more remarkable because, in spite of +his great physical sufferings, Joseph Alexeevich is never weary of +life though he loves death, for which- in spite of the purity and +loftiness of his inner man- he does not yet feel himself +sufficiently prepared. My benefactor then explained to me fully the +meaning of the Great Square of creation and pointed out to me that the +numbers three and seven are the basis of everything. He advised me not +to avoid intercourse with the Petersburg Brothers, but to take up only +second-grade posts in the lodge, to try, while diverting the +Brothers from pride, to turn them toward the true path +self-knowledge and self-perfecting. Besides this he advised me for +myself personally above all to keep a watch over myself, and to that +end he gave me a notebook, the one I am now writing in and in which +I will in future note down all my actions. + +Petersburg, 23rd November + +I am again living with my wife. My mother-in-law came to me in tears +and said that Helene was here and that she implored me to hear her; +that she was innocent and unhappy at my desertion, and much more. I +knew that if I once let myself see her I should not have strength to +go on refusing what she wanted. In my perplexity I did not know +whose aid and advice to seek. Had my benefactor been here he would +have told me what to do. I went to my room and reread Joseph +Alexeevich's letters and recalled my conversations with him, and +deduced from it all that I ought not to refuse a suppliant, and +ought to reach a helping hand to everyone- especially to one so +closely bound to me- and that I must bear my cross. But if I forgive +her for the sake of doing right, then let union with her have only a +spiritual aim. That is what I decided, and what I wrote to Joseph +Alexeevich. I told my wife that I begged her to forget the past, to +forgive me whatever wrong I may have done her, and that I had +nothing to forgive. It gave me joy to tell her this. She need not know +how hard it was for me to see her again. I have settled on the upper +floor of this big house and am experiencing a happy feeling of +regeneration. + +CHAPTER IX + +At that time, as always happens, the highest society that met at +court and at the grand balls was divided into several circles, each +with its own particular tone. The largest of these was the French +circle of the Napoleonic alliance, the circle of Count Rumyantsev +and Caulaincourt. In this group Helene, as soon as she had settled +in Petersburg with her husband, took a very prominent place. She was +visited by the members of the French embassy and by many belonging +to that circle and noted for their intellect and polished manners. + +Helene had been at Erfurt during the famous meeting of the +Emperors and had brought from there these connections with the +Napoleonic notabilities. At Erfurt her success had been brilliant. +Napoleon himself had noticed her in the theater and said of her: +"C'est un superbe animal."~^ Her success as a beautiful and elegant +woman did not surprise Pierre, for she had become even handsomer +than before. What did surprise him was that during these last two +years his wife had succeeded in gaining the reputation "d' une femme +charmante, aussi spirituelle que belle."~^ The distinguished +Prince de Ligne wrote her eight-page letters. Bilibin saved up his +epigrams to produce them in Countess Bezukhova's presence. To be +received in the Countess Bezukhova's salon was regarded as a diploma +of intellect. Young men read books before attending Helene's evenings, +to have something to say in her salon, and secretaries of the embassy, +and even ambassadors, confided diplomatic secrets to her, so that in a +way Helene was a power. Pierre, who knew she was very stupid, +sometimes attended, with a strange feeling of perplexity and fear, her +evenings and dinner parties, where politics, poetry, and philosophy +were discussed. At these parties his feelings were like those of a +conjuror who always expects his trick to be found out at any moment. +But whether because stupidity was just what was needed to run such a +salon, or because those who were deceived found pleasure in the +deception, at any rate it remained unexposed and Helene Bezukhova's +reputation as a lovely and clever woman became so firmly established +that she could say the emptiest and stupidest things and everybody +would go into raptures over every word of hers and look for a profound +meaning in it of which she herself had no conception. + +^~ "That's a superb animal." + +^~ "Of a charming woman, as witty as she is lovely." + +Pierre was just the husband needed for a brilliant society woman. He +was that absent-minded crank, a grand seigneur husband who was in no +one's way, and far from spoiling the high tone and general +impression of the drawing room, he served, by the contrast he +presented to her, as an advantageous background to his elegant and +tactful wife. Pierre during the last two years, as a result of his +continual absorption in abstract interests and his sincere contempt +for all else, had acquired in his wife's circle, which did not +interest him, that air of unconcern, indifference, and benevolence +toward all, which cannot be acquired artificially and therefore +inspires involuntary respect. He entered his wife's drawing room as +one enters a theater, was acquainted with everybody, equally pleased +to see everyone, and equally indifferent to them all. Sometimes he +joined in a conversation which interested him and, regardless of +whether any "gentlemen of the embassy" were present or not, +lispingly expressed his views, which were sometimes not at all in +accord with the accepted tone of the moment. But the general opinion +concerning the queer husband of "the most distinguished woman in +Petersburg" was so well established that no one took his freaks +seriously. + +Among the many young men who frequented her house every day, Boris +Drubetskoy, who had already achieved great success in the service, was +the most intimate friend of the Bezukhov household since Helene's +return from Erfurt. Helene spoke of him as "mon page" and treated +him like a child. Her smile for him was the same as for everybody, but +sometimes that smile made Pierre uncomfortable. Toward him Boris +behaved with a particularly dignified and sad deference. This shade of +deference also disturbed Pierre. He had suffered so painfully three +years before from the mortification to which his wife had subjected +him that he now protected himself from the danger of its repetition, +first by not being a husband to his wife, and secondly by not allowing +himself to suspect. + +"No, now that she has become a bluestocking she has finally +renounced her former infatuations," he told himself. "There has +never been an instance of a bluestocking being carried away by affairs +of the heart"- a statement which, though gathered from an unknown +source, he believed implicitly. Yet strange to say Boris' presence +in his wife's drawing room (and he was almost always there) had a +physical effect upon Pierre; it constricted his limbs and destroyed +the unconsciousness and freedom of his movements. + +"What a strange antipathy," thought Pierre, "yet I used to like +him very much." + +In the eyes of the world Pierre was a great gentleman, the rather +blind and absurd husband of a distinguished wife, a clever crank who +did nothing but harmed nobody and was a first-rate, good-natured +fellow. But a complex and difficult process of internal development +was taking place all this time in Pierre's soul, revealing much to him +and causing him many spiritual doubts and joys. + +CHAPTER X + +Pierre went on with his diary, and this is what he wrote in it +during that time: + +24th November + +Got up at eight, read the Scriptures, then went to my duties. [By +Joseph Alexeevich's advice Pierre had entered the service of the state +and served on one of the committees.] Returned home for dinner and +dined alone- the countess had many visitors I do not like. I ate and +drank moderately and after dinner copied out some passages for the +Brothers. In the evening I went down to the countess and told a +funny story about B., and only remembered that I ought not to have +done so when everybody laughed loudly at it. + +I am going to bed with a happy and tranquil mind. Great God, help me +to walk in Thy paths, (1) to conquer anger by calmness and +deliberation, (2) to vanquish lust by self-restraint and repulsion, +(3) to withdraw from worldliness, but not avoid (a) the service of the +state, (b) family duties, (c) relations with my friends, and the +management of my affairs. + +27th November + +I got up late. On waking I lay long in bed yielding to sloth. O God, +help and strengthen me that I may walk in Thy ways! Read the +Scriptures, but without proper feeling. Brother Urusov came and we +talked about worldly vanities. He told me of the Emperor's new +projects. I began to criticize them, but remembered my rules and my +benefactor's words- that a true Freemason should be a zealous worker +for the state when his aid is required and a quiet onlooker when not +called on to assist. My tongue is my enemy. Brothers G. V. and O. +visited me and we had a preliminary talk about the reception of a +new Brother. They laid on me the duty of Rhetor. I feel myself weak +and unworthy. Then our talk turned to the interpretation of the +seven pillars and steps of the Temple, the seven sciences, the seven +virtues, the seven vices, and the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. +Brother O. was very eloquent. In the evening the admission took place. +The new decoration of the Premises contributed much to the +magnificence of the spectacle. It was Boris Drubetskoy who was +admitted. I nominated him and was the Rhetor. A strange feeling +agitated me all the time I was alone with him in the dark chamber. I +caught myself harboring a feeling of hatred toward him which I +vainly tried to overcome. That is why I should really like to save him +from evil and lead him into the path of truth, but evil thoughts of +him did not leave me. It seemed to me that his object in entering +the Brotherhood was merely to be intimate and in favor with members of +our lodge. Apart from the fact that he had asked me several times +whether N. and S. were members of our lodge (a question to which I +could not reply) and that according to my observation he is +incapable of feeling respect for our holy order and is too preoccupied +and satisfied with the outer man to desire spiritual improvement, I +had no cause to doubt him, but he seemed to me insincere, and all +the time I stood alone with him in the dark temple it seemed to me +that he was smiling contemptuously at my words, and I wished really to +stab his bare breast with the sword I held to it. I could not be +eloquent, nor could I frankly mention my doubts to the Brothers and to +the Grand Master. Great Architect of Nature, help me to find the +true path out of the labyrinth of lies! + +After this, three pages were left blank in the diary, and then +the following was written: + +I have had a long and instructive talk alone with Brother V., who +advised me to hold fast by brother A. Though I am unworthy, much was +revealed to me. Adonai is the name of the creator of the world. Elohim +is the name of the ruler of all. The third name is the name +unutterable which means the All. Talks with Brother V. strengthen, +refresh, and support me in the path of virtue. In his presence doubt +has no place. The distinction between the poor teachings of mundane +science and our sacred all-embracing teaching is clear to me. Human +sciences dissect everything to comprehend it, and kill everything to +examine it. In the holy science of our order all is one, all is +known in its entirety and life. The Trinity- the three elements of +matter- are sulphur, mercury, and salt. Sulphur is of an oily and +fiery nature; in combination with salt by its fiery nature it +arouses a desire in the latter by means of which it attracts +mercury, seizes it, holds it, and in combination produces other +bodies. Mercury is a fluid, volatile, spiritual essence. Christ, the +Holy Spirit, Him!... + +3rd December + +Awoke late, read the Scriptures but was apathetic. Afterwards went +and paced up and down the large hall. I wished to meditate, but +instead my imagination pictured an occurrence of four years ago, +when Dolokhov, meeting me in Moscow after our duel, said he hoped I +was enjoying perfect peace of mind in spite of my wife's absence. At +the time I gave him no answer. Now I recalled every detail of that +meeting and in my mind gave him the most malevolent and bitter +replies. I recollected myself and drove away that thought only when +I found myself glowing with anger, but I did not sufficiently +repent. Afterwards Boris Drubetskoy came and began relating various +adventures. His coming vexed me from the first, and I said something +disagreeable to him. He replied. I flared up and said much that was +unpleasant and even rude to him. He became silent, and I recollected +myself only when it was too late. My God, I cannot get on with him +at all. The cause of this is my egotism. I set myself above him and so +become much worse than he, for he is lenient to my rudeness while I on +the contrary nourish contempt for him. O God, grant that in his +presence I may rather see my own vileness, and behave so that he too +may benefit. After dinner I fell asleep and as I was drowsing off I +clearly heard a voice saying in my left ear, "Thy day!" + +I dreamed that I was walking in the dark and was suddenly surrounded +by dogs, but I went on undismayed. Suddenly a smallish dog seized my +left thigh with its teeth and would not let go. I began to throttle it +with my hands. Scarcely had I torn it off before another, a bigger +one, began biting me. I lifted it up, but the higher I lifted it the +bigger and heavier it grew. And suddenly Brother A. came and, taking +my arm, led me to a building to enter which we had to pass along a +narrow plank. I stepped on it, but it bent and gave way and I began to +clamber up a fence which I could scarcely reach with my hands. After +much effort I dragged myself up, so that my leg hung down on one +side and my body on the other. I looked round and saw Brother A. +standing on the fence and pointing me to a broad avenue and garden, +and in the garden was a large and beautiful building. I woke up. O +Lord, great Architect of Nature, help me to tear from myself these +dogs- my passions especially the last, which unites in itself the +strength of all the former ones, and aid me to enter that temple of +virtue to a vision of which I attained in my dream. + +7th December + +I dreamed that Joseph Alexeevich was sitting in my house, and that I +was very glad and wished to entertain him. It seemed as if I chattered +incessantly with other people and suddenly remembered that this +could not please him, and I wished to come close to him and embrace +him. But as soon as I drew near I saw that his face had changed and +grown young, and he was quietly telling me something about the +teaching of our order, but so softly that I could not hear it. Then it +seemed that we all left the room and something strange happened. We +were sitting or lying on the floor. He was telling me something, and I +wished to show him my sensibility, and not listening to what he was +saying I began picturing to myself the condition of my inner man and +the grace of God sanctifying me. And tears came into my eyes, and I +was glad he noticed this. But be looked at me with vexation and jumped +up, breaking off his remarks. I felt abashed and asked whether what he +had been saying did not concern me; but he did not reply, gave me a +kind look, and then we suddenly found ourselves in my bedroom where +there is a double bed. He lay down on the edge of it and I burned with +longing to caress him and lie down too. And he said, "Tell me +frankly what is your chief temptation? Do you know it? I think you +know it already." Abashed by this question, I replied that sloth was +my chief temptation. He shook his head incredulously; and even more +abashed, I said that though I was living with my wife as he advised, I +was not living with her as her husband. To this he replied that one +should not deprive a wife of one's embraces and gave me to +understand that that was my duty. But I replied that I should be +ashamed to do it, and suddenly everything vanished. And I awoke and +found in my mind the text from the Gospel: "The life was the light +of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness +comprehended it not." Joseph Alexeevich's face had looked young and +bright. That day I received a letter from my benefactor in which he +wrote about "conjugal duties." + +9th December + +I had a dream from which I awoke with a throbbing heart. I saw +that I was in Moscow in my house, in the big sitting room, and +Joseph Alexeevich came in from the drawing room. I seemed to know at +once that the process of regeneration had already taken place in +him, and I rushed to meet him. I embraced him and kissed his hands, +and he said, "Hast thou noticed that my face is different?" I looked +at him, still holding him in my arms, and saw that his face was young, +but that he had no hair on his head and his features were quite +changed. And I said, "I should have known you had I met you by +chance," and I thought to myself, "Am I telling the truth?" And +suddenly I saw him lying like a dead body; then he gradually recovered +and went with me into my study carrying a large book of sheets of +drawing paper; I said, "I drew that," and he answered by bowing his +head. I opened the book, and on all the pages there were excellent +drawings. And in my dream I knew that these drawings represented the +love adventures of the soul with its beloved. And on its pages I saw a +beautiful representation of a maiden in transparent garments and +with a transparent body, flying up to the clouds. And I seemed to know +that this maiden was nothing else than a representation of the Song of +Songs. And looking at those drawings I dreamed I felt that I was doing +wrong, but could not tear myself away from them. Lord, help me! My +God, if Thy forsaking me is Thy doing, Thy will be done; but if I am +myself the cause, teach me what I should do! I shall perish of my +debauchery if Thou utterly desertest me! + +CHAPTER XI + +The Rostovs' monetary affairs had not improved during the two +years they had spent in the country. + +Though Nicholas Rostov had kept firmly to his resolution and was +still serving modestly in an obscure regiment, spending +comparatively little, the way of life at Otradnoe- Mitenka's +management of affairs, in particular- was such that the debts +inevitably increased every year. The only resource obviously +presenting itself to the old count was to apply for an official +post, so he had come to Petersburg to look for one and also, as he +said, to let the lassies enjoy themselves for the last time. + +Soon after their arrival in Petersburg Berg proposed to Vera and was +accepted. + +Though in Moscow the Rostovs belonged to the best society without +themselves giving it a thought, yet in Petersburg their circle of +acquaintances was a mixed and indefinite one. In Petersburg they +were provincials, and the very people they had entertained in Moscow +without inquiring to what set they belonged, here looked down on them. + +The Rostovs lived in the same hospitable way in Petersburg as in +Moscow, and the most diverse people met at their suppers. Country +neighbors from Otradnoe, impoverished old squires and their daughters, +Peronskaya a maid of honor, Pierre Bezukhov, and the son of their +district postmaster who had obtained a post in Petersburg. Among the +men who very soon became frequent visitors at the Rostovs' house in +Petersburg were Boris, Pierre whom the count had met in the street and +dragged home with him, and Berg who spent whole days at the Rostovs' +and paid the eldest daughter, Countess Vera, the attentions a young +man pays when he intends to propose. + +Not in vain had Berg shown everybody his right hand wounded at +Austerlitz and held a perfectly unnecessary sword in his left. He +narrated that episode so persistently and with so important an air +that everyone believed in the merit and usefulness of his deed, and he +had obtained two decorations for Austerlitz. + +In the Finnish war he also managed to distinguish himself. He had +picked up the scrap of a grenade that had killed an aide-de-camp +standing near the commander in chief and had taken it to his +commander. Just as he had done after Austerlitz, he related this +occurrence at such length and so insistently that everyone again +believed it had been necessary to do this, and he received two +decorations for the Finnish war also. In 1809 he was a captain in +the Guards, wore medals, and held some special lucrative posts in +Petersburg. + +Though some skeptics smiled when told of Berg's merits, it could not +be denied that he was a painstaking and brave officer, on excellent +terms with his superiors, and a moral young man with a brilliant +career before him and an assured position in society. + +Four years before, meeting a German comrade in the stalls of a +Moscow theater, Berg had pointed out Vera Rostova to him and had +said in German, "das soll mein Weib werden,"~^ and from that moment had +made up his mind to marry her. Now in Petersburg, having considered +the Rostovs' position and his own, he decided that the time had come +to propose. + +^~ "That girl shall be my wife." + +Berg's proposal was at first received with a perplexity that was not +flattering to him. At first it seemed strange that the son of an +obscure Livonian gentleman should propose marriage to a Countess +Rostova; but Berg's chief characteristic was such a naive and good +natured egotism that the Rostovs involuntarily came to think it +would be a good thing, since he himself was so firmly convinced that +it was good, indeed excellent. Moreover, the Rostovs' affairs were +seriously embarrassed, as the suitor could not but know; and above +all, Vera was twenty-four, had been taken out everywhere, and though +she was certainly good-looking and sensible, no one up to now had +proposed to her. So they gave their consent. + +"You see," said Berg to his comrade, whom he called "friend" only +because he knew that everyone has friends, "you see, I have considered +it all, and should not marry if I had not thought it all out or if +it were in any way unsuitable. But on the contrary, my papa and +mamma are now provided for- I have arranged that rent for them in +the Baltic Provinces- and I can live in Petersburg on my pay, and with +her fortune and my good management we can get along nicely. I am not +marrying for money- I consider that dishonorable- but a wife should +bring her share and a husband his. I have my position in the +service, she has connections and some means. In our times that is +worth something, isn't it? But above all, she is a handsome, estimable +girl, and she loves me..." + +Berg blushed and smiled. + +"And I love her, because her character is sensible and very good. +Now the other sister, though they are the same family, is quite +different- an unpleasant character and has not the same +intelligence. She is so... you know?... Unpleasant... But my +fiancee!... Well, you will be coming," he was going to say, "to dine," +but changed his mind and said "to take tea with us," and quickly +doubling up his tongue he blew a small round ring of tobacco smoke, +perfectly embodying his dream of happiness. + +After the first feeling of perplexity aroused in the parents by +Berg's proposal, the holiday tone of joyousness usual at such times +took possession of the family, but the rejoicing was external and +insincere. In the family's feeling toward this wedding a certain +awkwardness and constraint was evident, as if they were ashamed of not +having loved Vera sufficiently and of being so ready to get her off +their hands. The old count felt this most. He would probably have been +unable to state the cause of his embarrassment, but it resulted from +the state of his affairs. He did not know at all how much he had, what +his debts amounted to, or what dowry he could give Vera. When his +daughters were born he had assigned to each of them, for her dowry, an +estate with three hundred serfs; but one of these estates had +already been sold, and the other was mortgaged and the interest so +much in arrears that it would have to be sold, so that it was +impossible to give it to Vera. Nor had he any money. + +Berg had already been engaged a month, and only a week remained +before the wedding, but the count had not yet decided in his own +mind the question of the dowry, nor spoken to his wife about it. At +one time the count thought of giving her the Ryazan estate or of +selling a forest, at another time of borrowing money on a note of +hand. A few days before the wedding Berg entered the count's study +early one morning and, with a pleasant smile, respectfully asked his +future father-in-law to let him know what Vera's dowry would be. The +count was so disconcerted by this long-foreseen inquiry that without +consideration he gave the first reply that came into his head. "I like +your being businesslike about it.... I like it. You shall be +satisfied...." + +And patting Berg on the shoulder he got up, wishing to end the +conversation. But Berg, smiling pleasantly, explained that if he did +not know for certain how much Vera would have and did not receive at +least part of the dowry in advance, he would have to break matters +off. + +"Because, consider, Count- if I allowed myself to marry now +without having definite means to maintain my wife, I should be +acting badly...." + +The conversation ended by the count, who wished to be generous and +to avoid further importunity, saying that he would give a note of hand +for eighty thousand rubles. Berg smiled meekly, kissed the count on +the shoulder, and said that he was very grateful, but that it was +impossible for him to arrange his new life without receiving thirty +thousand in ready money. "Or at least twenty thousand, Count," he +added, "and then a note of hand for only sixty thousand." + +"Yes, yes, all right!" said the count hurriedly. "Only excuse me, my +dear fellow, I'll give you twenty thousand and a note of hand for +eighty thousand as well. Yes, yes! Kiss me." + +CHAPTER XII + +Natasha was sixteen and it was the year 1809, the very year to which +she had counted on her fingers with Boris after they had kissed four +years ago. Since then she had not seen him. Before Sonya and her +mother, if Boris happened to be mentioned, she spoke quite freely of +that episode as of some childish, long-forgotten matter that was not +worth mentioning. But in the secret depths of her soul the question +whether her engagement to Boris was a jest or an important, binding +promise tormented her. + +Since Boris left Moscow in 1805 to join the army he had had not seen +the Rostovs. He had been in Moscow several times, and had passed +near Otradnoe, but had never been to see them. + +Sometimes it occurred to Natasha that he not wish to see her, and +this conjecture was confirmed by the sad tone in which her elders +spoke of him. + +"Nowadays old friends are not remembered," the countess would say +when Boris was mentioned. + +Anna Mikhaylovna also had of late visited them less frequently, +seemed to hold herself with particular dignity, and always spoke +rapturously and gratefully of the merits of her son and the +brilliant career on which he had entered. When the Rostovs came to +Petersburg Boris called on them. + +He drove to their house in some agitation. The memory of Natasha was +his most poetic recollection. But he went with the firm intention of +letting her and her parents feel that the childish relations between +himself and Natasha could not be binding either on her or on him. He +had a brilliant position in society thanks to his intimacy with +Countess Bezukhova, a brilliant position in the service thanks to +the patronage of an important personage whose complete confidence he +enjoyed, and he was beginning to make plans for marrying one of the +richest heiresses in Petersburg, plans which might very easily be +realized. When he entered the Rostovs' drawing room Natasha was in her +own room. When she heard of his arrival she almost ran into the +drawing room, flushed and beaming with a more than cordial smile. + +Boris remembered Natasha in a short dress, with dark eyes shining +from under her curls and boisterous, childish laughter, as he had +known her four years before; and so he was taken aback when quite a +different Natasha entered, and his face expressed rapturous +astonishment. This expression on his face pleased Natasha. + +"Well, do you recognize your little madcap playmate?" asked the +countess. + +Boris kissed Natasha's hand and said that he was astonished at the +change in her. + +"How handsome you have grown!" + +"I should think so!" replied Natasha's laughing eyes. + +"And is Papa older?" she asked. + +Natasha sat down and, without joining in Boris' conversation with +the countess, silently and minutely studied her childhood's suitor. He +felt the weight of that resolute and affectionate scrutiny and glanced +at her occasionally. + +Boris' uniform, spurs, tie, and the way his hair was brushed were +all comme il faut and in the latest fashion. This Natasha noticed at +once. He sat rather sideways in the armchair next to the countess, +arranging with his right hand the cleanest of gloves that fitted his +left hand like a skin, and he spoke with a particularly refined +compression of his lips about the amusements of the highest Petersburg +society, recalling with mild irony old times in Moscow and Moscow +acquaintances. It was not accidentally, Natasha felt, that he alluded, +when speaking of the highest aristocracy, to an ambassador's ball he +had attended, and to invitations he had received from N.N. and S.S. + +All this time Natasha sat silent, glancing up at him from under +her brows. This gaze disturbed and confused Boris more and more. He +looked round more frequently toward her, and broke off in what he +was saying. He did not stay more than ten minutes, then rose and +took his leave. The same inquisitive, challenging, and rather +mocking eyes still looked at him. After his first visit Boris said +to himself that Natasha attracted him just as much as ever, but that +he must not yield to that feeling, because to marry her, a girl almost +without fortune, would mean ruin to his career, while to renew their +former relations without intending to marry her would be dishonorable. +Boris made up his mind to avoid meeting Natasha, but despite that +resolution he called again a few days later and began calling often +and spending whole days at the Rostovs'. It seemed to him that he +ought to have an explanation with Natasha and tell her that the old +times must be forgotten, that in spite of everything... she could +not be his wife, that he had no means, and they would never let her +marry him. But he failed to do so and felt awkward about entering on +such an explanation. From day to day he became more and more +entangled. It seemed to her mother and Sonya that Natasha was in +love with Boris as of old. She sang him his favorite songs, showed him +her album, making him write in it, did not allow him to allude to +the past, letting it be understood how was the present; and every +day he went away in a fog, without having said what he meant to, and +not knowing what he was doing or why he came, or how it would all end. +He left off visiting Helene and received reproachful notes from her +every day, and yet he continued to spend whole days with the Rostovs. + +CHAPTER XIII + +One night when the old countess, in nightcap and dressing jacket, +without her false curls, and with her poor little knob of hair showing +under her white cotton cap, knelt sighing and groaning on a rug and +bowing to the ground in prayer, her door creaked and Natasha, also +in a dressing jacket with slippers on her bare feet and her hair in +curlpapers, ran in. The countess- her prayerful mood dispelled- looked +round and frowned. She was finishing her last prayer: "Can it be +that this couch will be my grave?" Natasha, flushed and eager, +seeing her mother in prayer, suddenly checked her rush, half sat down, +and unconsciously put out her tongue as if chiding herself. Seeing +that her mother was still praying she ran on tiptoe to the bed and, +rapidly slipping one little foot against the other, pushed off her +slippers and jumped onto the bed the countess had feared might +become her grave. This couch was high, with a feather bed and five +pillows each smaller than the one below. Natasha jumped on it, sank +into the feather bed, rolled over to the wall, and began snuggling +up the bedclothes as she settled down, raising her knees to her +chin, kicking out and laughing almost inaudibly, now covering +herself up head and all, and now peeping at her mother. The countess +finished her prayers and came to the bed with a stern face, but +seeing, that Natasha's head was covered, she smiled in her kind, +weak way. + +"Now then, now then!" said she. + +"Mamma, can we have a talk? Yes?" said Natasha. "Now, just one on +your throat and another... that'll do!" And seizing her mother round +the neck, she kissed her on the throat. In her behavior to her +mother Natasha seemed rough, but she was so sensitive and tactful that +however she clasped her mother she always managed to do it without +hurting her or making her feel uncomfortable or displeased. + +"Well, what is it tonight?" said the mother, having arranged her +pillows and waited until Natasha, after turning over a couple of +times, had settled down beside her under the quilt, spread out her +arms, and assumed a serious expression. + +These visits of Natasha's at night before the count returned from +his club were one of the greatest pleasures of both mother, and +daughter. + +"What is it tonight?- But I have to tell you..." + +Natasha put her hand on her mother's mouth. + +"About Boris... I know," she said seriously; "that's what I have +come about. Don't say it- I know. No, do tell me!" and she removed her +hand. "Tell me, Mamma! He's nice?" + +"Natasha, you are sixteen. At your age I was married. You say +Boris is nice. He is very nice, and I love him like a son. But what +then?... What are you thinking about? You have quite turned his +head, I can see that...." + +As she said this the countess looked round at her daughter. +Natasha was lying looking steadily straight before her at one of the +mahogany sphinxes carved on the corners of the bedstead, so that the +countess only saw her daughter's face in profile. That face struck her +by its peculiarly serious and concentrated expression. + +Natasha was listening and considering. + +"Well, what then?" said she. + +"You have quite turned his head, and why? What do you want of him? +You know you can't marry him." + +"Why not?" said Natasha, without changing her position. + +"Because he is young, because he is poor, because he is a +relation... and because you yourself don't love him." + +"How do you know?" + +"I know. It is not right, darling!" + +"But if I want to..." said Natasha. + +"Leave off talking nonsense," said the countess. + +"But if I want to..." + +"Natasha, I am in earnest..." + +Natasha did not let her finish. She drew the countess' large hand to +her, kissed it on the back and then on the palm, then again turned +it over and began kissing first one knuckle, then the space between +the knuckles, then the next knuckle, whispering, "January, February, +March, April, May. Speak, Mamma, why don't you say anything? Speak!" +said she, turning to her mother, who was tenderly gazing at her +daughter and in that contemplation seemed to have forgotten all she +had wished to say. + +"It won't do, my love! Not everyone will understand this +friendship dating from your childish days, and to see him so +intimate with you may injure you in the eyes of other young men who +visit us, and above all it torments him for nothing. He may already +have found a suitable and wealthy match, and now he's half crazy." + +"Crazy?" repeated Natasha. + +"I'll tell you some things about myself. I had a cousin..." + +"I know! Cyril Matveich... but he is old." + +"He was not always old. But this is what I'll do, Natasha, I'll have +a talk with Boris. He need not come so often...." + +"Why not, if he likes to?" + +"Because I know it will end in nothing...." + +"How can you know? No, Mamma, don't speak to him! What nonsense!" +said Natasha in the tone of one being deprived of her property. "Well, +I won't marry, but let him come if he enjoys it and I enjoy it." +Natasha smiled and looked at her mother. "Not to marry, but just +so," she added. + +"How so, my pet?" + +"Just so. There's no need for me to marry him. But... just so." + +"Just so, just so," repeated the countess, and shaking all over, she +went off into a good humored, unexpected, elderly laugh. + +"Don't laugh, stop!" cried Natasha. "You're shaking the whole bed! +You're awfully like me, just such another giggler.... Wait..." and she +seized the countess' hands and kissed a knuckle of the little +finger, saying, "June," and continued, kissing, "July, August," on the +other hand. "But, Mamma, is he very much in love? What do you think? +Was anybody ever so much in love with you? And he's very nice, very, +very nice. Only not quite my taste- he is so narrow, like the +dining-room clock.... Don't you understand? Narrow, you know- gray, +light gray..." + +"What rubbish you're talking!" said the countess. + +Natasha continued: "Don't you really understand? Nicholas would +understand.... Bezukhov, now, is blue, dark-blue and red, and he is +square." + +"You flirt with him too," said the countess, laughing. + +"No, he is a Freemason, I have found out. He is fine, dark-blue +and red.... How can I explain it to you?" + +"Little countess!" the count's voice called from behind the door. +"You're not asleep?" Natasha jumped up, snatched up her slippers, +and ran barefoot to her own room. + +It was a long time before she could sleep. She kept thinking that no +one could understand all that she understood and all there was in her. + +"Sonya?" she thought, glancing at that curled-up, sleeping little +kitten with her enormous plait of hair. "No, how could she? She's +virtuous. She fell in love with Nicholas and does not wish to know +anything more. Even Mamma does not understand. It is wonderful how +clever I am and how... charming she is," she went on, speaking of +herself in the third person, and imagining it was some very wise +man- the wisest and best of men- who was saying it of her. "There is +everything, everything in her," continued this man. "She is +unusually intelligent, charming... and then she is pretty, +uncommonly pretty, and agile- she swims and rides splendidly... and +her voice! One can really say it's a wonderful voice!" + +She hummed a scrap from her favorite opera by Cherubini, threw +herself on her bed, laughed at the pleasant thought that she would +immediately fall asleep, called Dunyasha the maid to put out the +candle, and before Dunyasha had left the room had already passed +into yet another happier world of dreams, where everything was as +light and beautiful as in reality, and even more so because it was +different. + +Next day the countess called Boris aside and had a talk with him, +after which he ceased coming to the Rostovs'. + +CHAPTER XIV + +On the thirty-first of December, New Year's Eve, 1809 - 10 an old +grandee of Catherine's day was giving a ball and midnight supper. +The diplomatic corps and the Emperor himself were to be present. + +The grandee's well-known mansion on the English Quay glittered +with innumerable lights. Police were stationed at the brightly lit +entrance which was carpeted with red baize, and not only gendarmes but +dozens of police officers and even the police master himself stood +at the porch. Carriages kept driving away and fresh ones arriving, +with red-liveried footmen and footmen in plumed hats. From the +carriages emerged men wearing uniforms, stars, and ribbons, while +ladies in satin and ermine cautiously descended the carriage steps +which were let down for them with a clatter, and then walked hurriedly +and noiselessly over the baize at the entrance. + +Almost every time a new carriage drove up a whisper ran through +the crowd and caps were doffed. + +"The Emperor?... No, a minister.... prince... ambassador. Don't +you see the plumes?..." was whispered among the crowd. + +One person, better dressed than the rest, seemed to know everyone +and mentioned by name the greatest dignitaries of the day. + +A third of the visitors had already arrived, but the Rostovs, who +were to be present, were still hurrying to get dressed. + +There had been many discussions and preparations for this ball in +the Rostov family, many fears that the invitation would not arrive, +that the dresses would not be ready, or that something would not be +arranged as it should be. + +Marya Ignatevna Peronskaya, a thin and shallow maid of honor at +the court of the Dowager Empress, who was a friend and relation of the +countess and piloted the provincial Rostovs in Petersburg high +society, was to accompany them to the ball. + +They were to call for her at her house in the Taurida Gardens at ten +o'clock, but it was already five minutes to ten, and the girls were +not yet dressed. + +Natasha was going to her first grand ball. She had got up at eight +that morning and had been in a fever of excitement and activity all +day. All her powers since morning had been concentrated on ensuring +that they all- she herself, Mamma, and Sonya- should be as well +dressed as possible. Sonya and her mother put themselves entirely in +her hands. The countess was to wear a claret-colored velvet dress, and +the two girls white gauze over pink silk slips, with roses on their +bodices and their hair dressed a la grecque. + +Everything essential had already been done; feet, hands, necks, +and ears washed, perfumed, and powdered, as befits a ball; the +openwork silk stockings and white satin shoes with ribbons were +already on; the hairdressing was almost done. Sonya was finishing +dressing and so was the countess, but Natasha, who had bustled about +helping them all, was behindhand. She was still sitting before a +looking-glass with a dressing jacket thrown over her slender +shoulders. Sonya stood ready dressed in the middle of the room and, +pressing the head of a pin till it hurt her dainty finger, was +fixing on a last ribbon that squeaked as the pin went through it. + +"That's not the way, that's not the way, Sonya!" cried Natasha +turning her head and clutching with both hands at her hair which the +maid who was dressing it had not time to release. "That bow is not +right. Come here!" + +Sonya sat down and Natasha pinned the ribbon on differently. + +"Allow me, Miss! I can't do it like that," said the maid who was +holding Natasha's hair. + +"Oh, dear! Well then, wait. That's right, Sonya." + +"Aren't you ready? It is nearly ten," came the countess' voice. + +"Directly! Directly! And you, Mamma?" + +"I have only my cap to pin on." + +"Don't do it without me!" called Natasha. "You won't do it right." + +"But it's already ten." + +They had decided to be at the ball by half past ten, and Natasha had +still to get dressed and they had to call at the Taurida Gardens. + +When her hair was done, Natasha, in her short petticoat from under +which her dancing shoes showed, and in her mother's dressing jacket, +ran up to Sonya, scrutinized her, and then ran to her mother. +Turning her mother's head this way and that, she fastened on the cap +and, hurriedly kissing her gray hair, ran back to the maids who were +turning up the hem of her skirt. + +The cause of the delay was Natasha's skirt, which was too long. +Two maids were turning up the hem and hurriedly biting off the ends of +thread. A third with pins in her mouth was running about between the +countess and Sonya, and a fourth held the whole of the gossamer +garment up high on one uplifted hand. + +"Mavra, quicker, darling!" + +"Give me my thimble, Miss, from there..." + +"Whenever will you be ready?" asked the count coming to the door. +"Here is here is some scent. Peronskaya must be tired of waiting." + +"It's ready, Miss," said the maid, holding up the shortened gauze +dress with two fingers, and blowing and shaking something off it, as +if by this to express a consciousness of the airiness and purity of +what she held. + +Natasha began putting on the dress. + +"In a minute! In a minute! Don't come in, Papa!" she cried to her +father as he opened the door- speaking from under the filmy skirt +which still covered her whole face. + +Sonya slammed the door to. A minute later they let the count in. +He was wearing a blue swallow-tail coat, shoes and stockings, and +was perfumed and his hair pomaded. + +"Oh, Papa! how nice you look! Charming!" cried Natasha, as she stood +in the middle of the room smoothing out the folds of the gauze. + +"If you please, Miss! allow me," said the maid, who on her knees was +pulling the skirt straight and shifting the pins from one side of +her mouth to the other with her tongue. + +"Say what you like," exclaimed Sonya, in a despairing voice as she +looked at Natasha, "say what you like, it's still too long." + +Natasha stepped back to look at herself in the pier glass. The dress +was too long. + +"Really, madam, it is not at all too long," said Mavra, crawling +on her knees after her young lady. + +"Well, if it's too long we'll take it up... we'll tack it up in +one minute," said the resolute Dunyasha taking a needle that was stuck +on the front of her little shawl and, still kneeling on the floor, set +to work once more. + +At that moment, with soft steps, the countess came in shyly, in +her cap and velvet gown. + +"Oo-oo, my beauty!" exclaimed the count, "she looks better than +any of you!" + +He would have embraced her but, blushing, she stepped aside +fearing to be rumpled. + +"Mamma, your cap, more to this side," said Natasha. "I'll arrange +it," and she rushed forward so that the maids who were tacking up +her skirt could not move fast enough and a piece of gauze was torn +off. + +"Oh goodness! What has happened? Really it was not my fault!" + +"Never mind, I'll run it up, it won't show," said Dunyasha. + +"What a beauty- a very queen!" said the nurse as she came to the +door. "And Sonya! They are lovely!" + +At a quarter past ten they at last got into their carriages and +started. But they had still to call at the Taurida Gardens. + +Peronskaya was quite ready. In spite of her age and plainness she +had gone through the same process as the Rostovs, but with less +flurry- for to her it was a matter of routine. Her ugly old body was +washed, perfumed, and powdered in just the same way. She had washed +behind her ears just as carefully, and when she entered her drawing +room in her yellow dress, wearing her badge as maid of honor, her +old lady's maid was as full of rapturous admiration as the Rostovs' +servants had been. + +She praised the Rostovs' toilets. They praised her taste and toilet, +and at eleven o'clock, careful of their coiffures and dresses, they +settled themselves in their carriages and drove off. + +CHAPTER XV + +Natasha had not had a moment free since early morning and had not +once had time to think of what lay before her. + +In the damp chill air and crowded closeness of the swaying carriage, +she for the first time vividly imagined what was in store for her +there at the ball, in those brightly lighted rooms- with music, +flowers, dances, the Emperor, and all the brilliant young people of +Petersburg. The prospect was so splendid that she hardly believed it +would come true, so out of keeping was it with the chill darkness +and closeness of the carriage. She understood all that awaited her +only when, after stepping over the red baize at the entrance, she +entered the hall, took off her fur cloak, and, beside Sonya and in +front of her mother, mounted the brightly illuminated stairs between +the flowers. Only then did she remember how she must behave at a ball, +and tried to assume the majestic air she considered indispensable +for a girl on such an occasion. But, fortunately for her, she felt her +eyes growing misty, she saw nothing clearly, her pulse beat a +hundred to the minute, and the blood throbbed at her heart. She +could not assume that pose, which would have made her ridiculous, +and she moved on almost fainting from excitement and trying with all +her might to conceal it. And this was the very attitude that became +her best. Before and behind them other visitors were entering, also +talking in low tones and wearing ball dresses. The mirrors on the +landing reflected ladies in white, pale-blue, and pink dresses, with +diamonds and pearls on their bare necks and arms. + +Natasha looked in the mirrors and could not distinguish her +reflection from the others. All was blended into one brilliant +procession. On entering the ballroom the regular hum of voices, +footsteps, and greetings deafened Natasha, and the light and glitter +dazzled her still more. The host and hostess, who had already been +standing at the door for half an hour repeating the same words to +the various arrivals, "Charme de vous voir,"~^ greeted the Rostovs +and Peronskaya in the same manner. + +^~ "Delighted to see you." + +The two girls in their white dresses, each with a rose in her +black hair, both curtsied in the same way, but the hostess' eye +involuntarily rested longer on the slim Natasha. She looked at her and +gave her alone a special smile in addition to her usual smile as +hostess. Looking at her she may have recalled the golden, +irrecoverable days of her own girlhood and her own first ball. The +host also followed Natasha with his eyes and asked the count which was +his daughter. + +"Charming!" said he, kissing the tips of his fingers. + +In the ballroom guests stood crowding at the entrance doors awaiting +the Emperor. The countess took up a position in one of the front +rows of that crowd. Natasha heard and felt that several people were +asking about her and looking at her. She realized that those +noticing her liked her, and this observation helped to calm her. + +"There are some like ourselves and some worse," she thought. + +Peronskaya was pointing out to the countess the most important +people at the ball. + +"That is the Dutch ambassador, do you see? That gray-haired man," +she said, indicating an old man with a profusion of silver-gray +curly hair, who was surrounded by ladies laughing at something he +said. + +"Ah, here she is, the Queen of Petersburg, Countess Bezukhova," said +Peronskaya, indicating Helene who had just entered. "How lovely! She +is quite equal to Marya Antonovna. See how the men, young and old, pay +court to her. Beautiful and clever... they say Prince- is quite mad +about her. But see, those two, though not good-looking, are even +more run after." + +She pointed to a lady who was crossing the room followed by a very +plain daughter. + +"She is a splendid match, a millionairess," said Peronskaya. "And +look, here come her suitors." + +"That is Bezukhova's brother, Anatole Kuragin," she said, indicating +a handsome officer of the Horse Guards who passed by them with head +erect, looking at something over the heads of the ladies. "He's +handsome, isn't he? I hear they will marry him to that rich girl. +But your cousin, Drubetskoy, is also very attentive to her. They say +she has millions. Oh yes, that's the French ambassador himself!" she +replied to the countess' inquiry about Caulaincourt. "Looks as if he +were a king! All the same, the French are charming, very charming. +No one more charming in society. Ah, here she is! Yes, she is still +the most beautiful of them all, our Marya Antonovna! And how simply +she is dressed! Lovely! And that stout one in spectacles is the +universal Freemason," she went on, indicating Pierre. "Put him +beside his wife and he looks a regular buffoon!" + +Pierre, swaying his stout body, advanced, making way through the +crowd and nodding to right and left as casually and good-naturedly +as if he were passing through a crowd at a fair. He pushed through, +evidently looking for someone. + +Natasha looked joyfully at the familiar face of Pierre, "the +buffoon," as Peronskaya had called him, and knew he was looking for +them, and for her in particular. He had promised to be at the ball and +introduce partners to her. + +But before he reached them Pierre stopped beside a very handsome, +dark man of middle height, and in a white uniform, who stood by a +window talking to a tall man wearing stars and a ribbon. Natasha at +once recognized the shorter and younger man in the white uniform: it +was Bolkonski, who seemed to her to have grown much younger, +happier, and better-looking. + +"There's someone else we know- Bolkonski, do you see, Mamma?" said +Natasha, pointing out Prince Andrew. "You remember, he stayed a +night with us at Otradnoe." + +"Oh, you know him?" said Peronskaya. "I can't bear him. Il fait a +present la pluie et le beau temps."~^ He's too proud for anything. +Takes after his father. And he's hand in glove with Speranski, writing +some project or other. Just look how he treats the ladies! There's one +talking to him and he has turned away," she said, pointing at him. +"I'd give it to him if he treated me as he does those ladies." + +^~ "He is all the rage just now. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Suddenly everybody stirred, began talking, and pressed forward and +then back, and between the two rows, which separated, the Emperor +entered to the sounds of music that had immediately struck up. +Behind him walked his host and hostess. He walked in rapidly, bowing +to right and left as if anxious to get the first moments of the +reception over. The band played the polonaise in vogue at that time on +account of the words that had been set to it, beginning: "Alexander, +Elisaveta, all our hearts you ravish quite..." The Emperor passed on +to the drawing room, the crowd made a rush for the doors, and +several persons with excited faces hurried there and back again. +Then the crowd hastily retired from the drawing-room door, at which +the Emperor reappeared talking to the hostess. A young man, looking +distraught, pounced down on the ladies, asking them to move aside. +Some ladies, with faces betraying complete forgetfulness of all the +rules of decorum, pushed forward to the detriment of their toilets. +The men began to choose partners and take their places for the +polonaise. + +Everyone moved back, and the Emperor came smiling out of the drawing +room leading his hostess by the hand but not keeping time to the +music. The host followed with Marya Antonovna Naryshkina; then came +ambassadors, ministers, and various generals, whom Peronskaya +diligently named. More than half the ladies already had partners and +were taking up, or preparing to take up, their positions for the +polonaise. Natasha felt that she would be left with her mother and +Sonya among a minority of women who crowded near the wall, not +having been invited to dance. She stood with her slender arms +hanging down, her scarcely defined bosom rising and falling regularly, +and with bated breath and glittering, frightened eyes gazed straight +before her, evidently prepared for the height of joy or misery. She +was not concerned about the Emperor or any of those great people +whom Peronskaya was pointing out- she had but one thought: "Is it +possible no one will ask me, that I shall not be among the first to +dance? Is it possible that not one of all these men will notice me? +They do not even seem to see me, or if they do they look as if they +were saying, 'Ah, she's not the one I'm after, so it's not worth +looking at her!' No, it's impossible," she thought. "They must know +how I long to dance, how splendidly I dance, and how they would +enjoy dancing with me." + +The strains of the polonaise, which had continued for a considerable +time, had begun to sound like a sad reminiscence to Natasha's ears. +She wanted to cry. Peronskaya had left them. The count was at the +other end of the room. She and the countess and Sonya were standing by +themselves as in the depths of a forest amid that crowd of +strangers, with no one interested in them and not wanted by anyone. +Prince Andrew with a lady passed by, evidently not recognizing them. +The handsome Anatole was smilingly talking to a partner on his arm and +looked at Natasha as one looks at a wall. Boris passed them twice +and each time turned away. Berg and his wife, who were not dancing, +came up to them. + +This family gathering seemed humiliating to Natasha- as if there +were nowhere else for the family to talk but here at the ball. She did +not listen to or look at Vera, who was telling her something about her +own green dress. + +At last the Emperor stopped beside his last partner (he had danced +with three) and the music ceased. A worried aide-de-camp ran up to the +Rostovs requesting them to stand farther back, though as it was they +were already close to the wall, and from the gallery resounded the +distinct, precise, enticingly rhythmical strains of a waltz. The +Emperor looked smilingly down the room. A minute passed but no one had +yet begun dancing. An aide-de-camp, the Master of Ceremonies, went +up to Countess Bezukhova and asked her to dance. She smilingly +raised her hand and laid it on his shoulder without looking at him. +The aide-de-camp, an adept in his art, grasping his partner firmly +round her waist, with confident deliberation started smoothly, gliding +first round the edge of the circle, then at the corner of the room +he caught Helene's left hand and turned her, the only sound audible, +apart from the ever-quickening music, being the rhythmic click of +the spurs on his rapid, agile feet, while at every third beat his +partner's velvet dress spread out and seemed to flash as she whirled +round. Natasha gazed at them and was ready to cry because it was not +she who was dancing that first turn of the waltz. + +Prince Andrew, in the white uniform of a cavalry colonel, wearing +stockings and dancing shoes, stood looking animated and bright in +the front row of the circle not far from the Rostovs. Baron Firhoff +was talking to him about the first sitting of the Council of State +to be held next day. Prince Andrew, as one closely connected with +Speranski and participating in the work of the legislative commission, +could give reliable information about that sitting, concerning which +various rumors were current. But not listening to what Firhoff was +saying, he was gazing now at the sovereign and now at the men +intending to dance who had not yet gathered courage to enter the +circle. + +Prince Andrew was watching these men abashed by the Emperor's +presence, and the women who were breathlessly longing to be asked to +dance. + +Pierre came up to him and caught him by the arm. + +"You always dance. I have a protegee, the young Rostova, here. Ask +her," he said. + +"Where is she?" asked Bolkonski. "Excuse me!" he added, turning to +the baron, "we will finish this conversation elsewhere- at a ball +one must dance." He stepped forward in the direction Pierre indicated. +The despairing, dejected expression of Natasha's face caught his +eye. He recognized her, guessed her feelings, saw that it was her +debut, remembered her conversation at the window, and with an +expression of pleasure on his face approached Countess Rostova. + +"Allow me to introduce you to my daughter," said the countess, +with heightened color. + +"I have the pleasure of being already acquainted, if the countess +remembers me," said Prince Andrew with a low and courteous bow quite +belying Peronskaya's remarks about his rudeness, and approaching +Natasha he held out his arm to grasp her waist before he had completed +his invitation. He asked her to waltz. That tremulous expression on +Natasha's face, prepared either for despair or rapture, suddenly +brightened into a happy, grateful, childlike smile. + +"I have long been waiting for you," that frightened happy little +girl seemed to say by the smile that replaced the threatened tears, as +she raised her hand to Prince Andrew's shoulder. They were the +second couple to enter the circle. Prince Andrew was one of the best +dancers of his day and Natasha danced exquisitely. Her little feet +in their white satin dancing shoes did their work swiftly, lightly, +and independently of herself, while her face beamed with ecstatic +happiness. Her slender bare arms and neck were not beautiful- compared +to Helene's her shoulders looked thin and her bosom undeveloped. But +Helene seemed, as it were, hardened by a varnish left by the thousands +of looks that had scanned her person, while Natasha was like a girl +exposed for the first time, who would have felt very much ashamed +had she not been assured that this was absolutely necessary. + +Prince Andrew liked dancing, and wishing to escape as quickly as +possible from the political and clever talk which everyone addressed +to him, wishing also to break up the circle of restraint he +disliked, caused by the Emperor's presence, he danced, and had +chosen Natasha because Pierre pointed her out to him and because she +was the first pretty girl who caught his eye; but scarcely had he +embraced that slender supple figure and felt her stirring so close +to him and smiling so near him than the wine of her charm rose to +his head, and he felt himself revived and rejuvenated when after +leaving her he stood breathing deeply and watching the other dancers. + +CHAPTER XVII + +After Prince Andrew, Boris came up to ask Natasha for dance, and +then the aide-de-camp who had opened the ball, and several other young +men, so that, flushed and happy, and passing on her superfluous +partners to Sonya, she did not cease dancing all the evening. She +noticed and saw nothing of what occupied everyone else. Not only did +she fail to notice that the Emperor talked a long time with the French +ambassador, and how particularly gracious he was to a certain lady, or +that Prince So-and-so and So-and-so did and said this and that, and +that Helene had great success and was honored was by the special +attention of So-and-so, but she did not even see the Emperor, and only +noticed that he had gone because the ball became livelier after his +departure. For one of the merry cotillions before supper Prince Andrew +was again her partner. He reminded her of their first encounter in the +Otradnoe avenue, and how she had been unable to sleep that moonlight +night, and told her how he had involuntarily overheard her. Natasha +blushed at that recollection and tried to excuse herself, as if +there had been something to be ashamed of in what Prince Andrew had +overheard. + +Like all men who have grown up in society, Prince Andrew liked +meeting someone there not of the conventional society stamp. And +such was Natasha, with her surprise, her delight, her shyness, and +even her mistakes in speaking French. With her he behaved with special +care and tenderness, sitting beside her and talking of the simplest +and most unimportant matters; he admired her shy grace. In the +middle of the cotillion, having completed one of the figures, Natasha, +still out of breath, was returning to her seat when another dancer +chose her. She was tired and panting and evidently thought of +declining, but immediately put her hand gaily on the man's shoulder, +smiling at Prince Andrew. + +"I'd be glad to sit beside you and rest: I'm tired; but you see +how they keep asking me, and I'm glad of it, I'm happy and I love +everybody, and you and I understand it all," and much, much more was +said in her smile. When her partner left her Natasha ran across the +room to choose two ladies for the figure. + +"If she goes to her cousin first and then to another lady, she +will be my wife," said Prince Andrew to himself quite to his own +surprise, as he watched her. She did go first to her cousin. + +"What rubbish sometimes enters one's head!" thought Prince Andrew, +"but what is certain is that that girl is so charming, so original, +that she won't be dancing here a month before she will be +married.... Such as she are rare here," he thought, as Natasha, +readjusting a rose that was slipping on her bodice, settled herself +beside him. + +When the cotillion was over the old count in his blue coat came up +to the dancers. He invited Prince Andrew to come and see them, and +asked his daughter whether she was enjoying herself. Natasha did not +answer at once but only looked up with a smile that said +reproachfully: "How can you ask such a question?" + +"I have never enjoyed myself so much before!" she said, and Prince +Andrew noticed how her thin arms rose quickly as if to embrace her +father and instantly dropped again. Natasha was happier than she had +ever been in her life. She was at that height of bliss when one +becomes completely kind and good and does not believe in the +possibility of evil, unhappiness, or sorrow. + +At that ball Pierre for the first time felt humiliated by the +position his wife occupied in court circles. He was gloomy and +absent-minded. A deep furrow ran across his forehead, and standing +by a window he stared over his spectacles seeing no one. + +On her way to supper Natasha passed him. + +Pierre's gloomy, unhappy look struck her. She stopped in front of +him. She wished to help him, to bestow on him the superabundance of +her own happiness. + +"How delightful it is, Count!" said she. "Isn't it?" + +Pierre smiled absent-mindedly, evidently not grasping what she said. + +"Yes, I am very glad," he said. + +"How can people be dissatisfied with anything?" thought Natasha. +"Especially such a capital fellow as Bezukhov!" In Natasha's eyes +all the people at the ball alike were good, kind, and splendid people, +loving one another; none of them capable of injuring another- and so +they ought all to be happy. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Next day Prince Andrew thought of the ball, but his mind did not +dwell on it long. "Yes, it was a very brilliant ball," and then... +"Yes, that little Rostova is very charming. There's something fresh, +original, un-Petersburg-like about her that distinguishes her." That +was all he thought about yesterday's ball, and after his morning tea +he set to work. + +But either from fatigue or want of sleep he was ill-disposed for +work and could get nothing done. He kept criticizing his own work, +as he often did, and was glad when he heard someone coming. + +The visitor was Bitski, who served on various committees, frequented +all the societies in Petersburg, and a passionate devotee of the new +ideas and of Speranski, and a diligent Petersburg newsmonger- one of +those men who choose their opinions like their clothes according to +the fashion, but who for that very reason appear to be the warmest +partisans. Hardly had he got rid of his hat before he ran into +Prince Andrew's room with a preoccupied air and at once began talking. +He had just heard particulars of that morning's sitting of the Council +of State opened by the Emperor, and he spoke of it enthusiastically. +The Emperor's speech had been extraordinary. It had been a speech such +as only constitutional monarchs deliver. "The Sovereign plainly said +that the Council and Senate are estates of the realm, he said that the +government must rest not on authority but on secure bases. The Emperor +said that the fiscal system must be reorganized and the accounts +published," recounted Bitski, emphasizing certain words and opening +his eyes significantly. + +"Ah, yes! Today's events mark an epoch, the greatest epoch in our +history," he concluded. + +Prince Andrew listened to the account of the opening of the +Council of State, which he had so impatiently awaited and to which +he had attached such importance, and was surprised that this event, +now that it had taken place, did not affect him, and even seemed quite +insignificant. He listened with quiet irony to Bitski's enthusiastic +account of it. A very simple thought occurred to him: "What does it +matter to me or to Bitski what the Emperor was pleased to say at the +Council? Can all that make me any happier or better?" + +And this simple reflection suddenly destroyed all the interest +Prince Andrew had felt in the impending reforms. He was going to +dine that evening at Speranski's, "with only a few friends," as the +host had said when inviting him. The prospect of that dinner in the +intimate home circle of the man he so admired had greatly interested +Prince Andrew, especially as he had not yet seen Speranski in his +domestic surroundings, but now he felt disinclined to go to it. + +At the appointed hour, however, he entered the modest house +Speranski owned in the Taurida Gardens. In the parqueted dining room +this small house, remarkable for its extreme cleanliness (suggesting +that of a monastery), Prince Andrew, who was rather late, found the +friendly gathering of Speranski's intimate acquaintances already +assembled at five o'clock. There were no ladies present except +Speranski's little daughter (long-faced like her father) and her +governess. The other guests were Gervais, Magnitski, and Stolypin. +While still in the anteroom Prince Andrew heard loud voices and a +ringing staccato laugh- a laugh such as one hears on the stage. +Someone- it sounded like Speranski- was distinctly ejaculating +ha-ha-ha. Prince Andrew had never before heard Speranski's famous +laugh, and this ringing, high pitched laughter from a statesman made a +strange impression on him. + +He entered the dining room. The whole company were standing +between two windows at a small table laid with hors-d'oeuvres. +Speranski, wearing a gray swallow-tail coat with a star on the breast, +and evidently still the same waistcoat and high white stock he had +worn at the meeting of the Council of State, stood at the table with a +beaming countenance. His guests surrounded him. Magnitski, +addressing himself to Speranski, was relating an anecdote, and +Speranski was laughing in advance at what Magnitski was going to +say. When Prince Andrew entered the room Magnitski's words were +again crowned by laughter. Stolypin gave a deep bass guffaw as he +munched a piece of bread and cheese. Gervais laughed softly with a +hissing chuckle, and Speranski in a high-pitched staccato manner. + +Still laughing, Speranski held out his soft white hand to Prince +Andrew. + +"Very pleased to see you, Prince," he said. "One moment..." he +went on, turning to Magnitski and interrupting his story. "We have +agreed that this is a dinner for recreation, with not a word about +business!" and turning again to the narrator he began to laugh afresh. + +Prince Andrew looked at the laughing Speranski with astonishment, +regret, and disillusionment. It seemed to him that this was not +Speranski but someone else. Everything that had formerly appeared + +mysterious and fascinating in Speranski suddenly became plain and +unattractive. + +At dinner the conversation did not cease for a moment and seemed +to consist of the contents of a book of funny anecdotes. Before +Magnitski had finished his story someone else was anxious to relate +something still funnier. Most of the anecdotes, if not relating to the +state service, related to people in the service. It seemed that in +this company the insignificance of those people was so definitely +accepted that the only possible attitude toward them was one of good +humored ridicule. Speranski related how at the Council that morning +a deaf dignitary, when asked his opinion, replied that he thought so +too. Gervais gave a long account of an official revision, remarkable +for the stupidity of everybody concerned. Stolypin, stuttering, +broke into the conversation and began excitedly talking of the +abuses that existed under the former order of things- threatening to +give a serious turn to the conversation. Magnitski starting quizzing +Stolypin about his vehemence. Gervais intervened with a joke, and +the talk reverted to its former lively tone. + +Evidently Speranski liked to rest after his labors and find +amusement in a circle of friends, and his guests, understanding his +wish, tried to enliven him and amuse themselves. But their gaiety +seemed to Prince Andrew mirthless and tiresome. Speranski's +high-pitched voice struck him unpleasantly, and the incessant laughter +grated on him like a false note. Prince Andrew did not laugh and +feared that he would be a damper on the spirits of the company, but no +one took any notice of his being out of harmony with the general mood. +They all seemed very gay. + +He tried several times to join in the conversation, but his +remarks were tossed aside each time like a cork thrown out of the +water, and he could not jest with them. + +There was nothing wrong or unseemly in what they said, it was +witty and might have been funny, but it lacked just that something +which is the salt of mirth, and they were not even aware that such a +thing existed. + +After dinner Speranski's daughter and her governess rose. He +patted the little girl with his white hand and kissed her. And that +gesture, too, seemed unnatural to Prince Andrew. + +The men remained at table over their port- English fashion. In the +midst of a conversation that was started about Napoleon's Spanish +affairs, which they all agreed in approving, Prince Andrew began to +express a contrary opinion. Speranski smiled and, with an evident wish +to prevent the conversation from taking an unpleasant course, told a +story that had no connection with the previous conversation. For a few +moments all were silent. + +Having sat some time at table, Speranski corked a bottle of wine +and, remarking, "Nowadays good wine rides in a carriage and pair," +passed it to the servant and got up. All rose and continuing to talk +loudly went into the drawing room. Two letters brought by a courier +were handed to Speranski and he took them to his study. As soon as +he had left the room the general merriment stopped and the guests +began to converse sensibly and quietly with one another. + +"Now for the recitation!" said Speranski on returning from his +study. "A wonderful talent!" he said to Prince Andrew, and Magnitski +immediately assumed a pose and began reciting some humorous verses +in French which he had composed about various well-known Petersburg +people. He was interrupted several times by applause. When the +verses were finished Prince Andrew went up to Speranski and took his +leave. + +"Where are you off to so early?" asked Speranski. + +"I promised to go to a reception." + +They said no more. Prince Andrew looked closely into those +mirrorlike, impenetrable eyes, and felt that it had been ridiculous of +him to have expected anything from Speranski and from any of his own +activities connected with him, or ever to have attributed importance +to what Speranski was doing. That precise, mirthless laughter rang +in Prince Andrew's ears long after he had left the house. + +When he reached home Prince Andrew began thinking of his life in +Petersburg during those last four months as if it were something +new. He recalled his exertions and solicitations, and the history of +his project of army reform, which had been accepted for +consideration and which they were trying to pass over in silence +simply because another, a very poor one, had already been prepared and +submitted to the Emperor. He thought of the meetings of a committee of +which Berg was a member. He remembered how carefully and at what +length everything relating to form and procedure was discussed at +those meetings, and how sedulously and promptly all that related to +the gist of the business was evaded. He recalled his labors on the +Legal Code, and how painstakingly he had translated the articles of +the Roman and French codes into Russian, and he felt ashamed of +himself. Then he vividly pictured to himself Bogucharovo, his +occupations in the country, his journey to Ryazan; he remembered the +peasants and Dron the village elder, and mentally applying to them the +Personal Rights he had divided into paragraphs, he felt astonished +that he could have spent so much time on such useless work. + +CHAPTER XIX + +Next day Prince Andrew called at a few houses he had not visited +before, and among them at the Rostovs' with whom he had renewed +acquaintance at the ball. Apart from considerations of politeness +which demanded the call, he wanted to see that original, eager girl +who had left such a pleasant impression on his mind, in her own home. + +Natasha was one of the first to meet him. She was wearing a +dark-blue house dress in which Prince Andrew thought her even prettier +than in her ball dress. She and all the Rostov family welcomed him +as an old friend, simply and cordially. The whole family, whom he +had formerly judged severely, now seemed to him to consist of +excellent, simple, and kindly people. The old count's hospitality +and good nature, which struck one especially in Petersburg as a +pleasant surprise, were such that Prince Andrew could not refuse to +stay to dinner. "Yes," he thought, "they are capital people, who of +course have not the slightest idea what a treasure they possess in +Natasha; but they are kindly folk and form the best possible setting +for this strikingly poetic, charming girl, overflowing with life!" + +In Natasha Prince Andrew was conscious of a strange world completely +alien to him and brimful of joys unknown to him, a different world, +that in the Otradnoe avenue and at the window that moonlight night had +already begun to disconcert him. Now this world disconcerted him no +longer and was no longer alien to him, but he himself having entered +it found in it a new enjoyment. + +After dinner Natasha, at Prince Andrew's request, went to the +clavichord and began singing. Prince Andrew stood by a window +talking to the ladies and listened to her. In the midst of a phrase he +ceased speaking and suddenly felt tears choking him, a thing he had +thought impossible for him. He looked at Natasha as she sang, and +something new and joyful stirred in his soul. He felt happy and at the +same time sad. He had absolutely nothing to weep about yet he was +ready to weep. What about? His former love? The little princess? His +disillusionments?... His hopes for the future?... Yes and no. The +chief reason was a sudden, vivid sense of the terrible contrast +between something infinitely great and illimitable within him and that +limited and material something that he, and even she, was. This +contrast weighed on and yet cheered him while she sang. + +As soon as Natasha had finished she went up to him and asked how +he liked her voice. She asked this and then became confused, feeling +that she ought not to have asked it. He smiled, looking at her, and +said he liked her singing as he liked everything she did. + +Prince Andrew left the Rostovs' late in the evening. He went to +bed from habit, but soon realized that he could not sleep. Having +lit his candle he sat up in bed, then got up, then lay down again +not at all troubled by his sleeplessness: his soul was as fresh and +joyful as if he had stepped out of a stuffy room into God's own +fresh air. It did not enter his head that he was in love with Natasha; +he was not thinking about her, but only picturing her to himself, +and in consequence all life appeared in a new light. "Why do I strive, +why do I toil in this narrow, confined frame, when life, all life with +all its joys, is open to me?" said he to himself. And for the first +time for a very long while he began making happy plans for the future. +He decided that he must attend to his son's education by finding a +tutor and putting the boy in his charge, then he ought to retire +from the service and go abroad, and see England, Switzerland and +Italy. "I must use my freedom while I feel so much strength and +youth in me," he said to himself. "Pierre was right when he said one +must believe in the possibility of happiness in order to be happy, and +now I do believe in it. Let the dead bury their dead, but while one +has life one must live and be happy!" thought he. + +CHAPTER XX + +One morning Colonel Berg, whom Pierre knew as he knew everybody in +Moscow and Petersburg, came to see him. Berg arrived in an +immaculate brand-new uniform, with his hair pomaded and brushed +forward over his temples as the Emperor Alexander wore his hair. + +"I have just been to see the countess, your wife. Unfortunately +she could not grant my request, but I hope, Count, I shall be more +fortunate with you," he said with a smile. + +"What is it you wish, Colonel? I am at your service." + +"I have now quite settled in my new rooms, Count" (Berg said this +with perfect conviction that this information could not but be +agreeable), "and so I wish to arrange just a small party for my own +and my wife's friends." (He smiled still more pleasantly.) "I wished +to ask the countess and you to do me the honor of coming to tea and to +supper." + +Only Countess Helene, considering the society of such people as +the Bergs beneath her, could be cruel enough to refuse such an +invitation. Berg explained so clearly why he wanted to collect at +his house a small but select company, and why this would give him +pleasure, and why though he grudged spending money on cards or +anything harmful, he was prepared to run into some expense for the +sake of good society- that Pierre could not refuse, and promised to +come. + +"But don't be late, Count, if I may venture to ask; about ten +minutes to eight, please. We shall make up a rubber. Our general is +coming. He is very good to me. We shall have supper, Count. So you +will do me the favor." + +Contrary to his habit of being late, Pierre on that day arrived at +the Bergs' house, not at ten but at fifteen minutes to eight. + +Having prepared everything necessary for the party, the Bergs were +really for their guests' arrival. + +In their new, clean, and light study with its small busts and +pictures and new furniture sat Berg and his wife. Berg, closely +buttoned up in his new uniform, sat beside his wife explaining to +her that one always could and should be acquainted with people above +one, because only then does one get satisfaction from acquaintances. + +"You can get to know something, you can ask for something. See how I +managed from my first promotion." (Berg measured his life not by years +but by promotions.) "My comrades are still nobodies, while I am only +waiting for a vacancy to command a regiment, and have the happiness to +be your husband." (He rose and kissed Vera's hand, and on the way to +her straightened out a turned-up corner of the carpet.) "And how +have I obtained all this? Chiefly by knowing how to choose my +aquaintances. It goes without saying that one must be conscientious +and methodical." + +Berg smiled with a sense of his superiority over a weak woman, and +paused, reflecting that this dear wife of his was after all but a weak +woman who could not understand all that constitutes a man's dignity, +what it was ein Mann zu sein.~^ Vera at the same time smiling with a +sense of superiority over her good, conscientious husband, who all the +same understood life wrongly, as according to Vera all men did. +Berg, judging by his wife, thought all women weak and foolish. Vera, +judging only by her husband and generalizing from that observation, +supposed that all men, though they understand nothing and are +conceited and selfish, ascribe common sense to themselves alone. + +^~ To be a man. + +Berg rose and embraced his wife carefully, so as not to crush her +lace fichu for which he had paid a good price, kissing her straight on +the lips. + +"The only thing is, we mustn't have children too soon," he +continued, following an unconscious sequence of ideas. + +"Yes," answered Vera, "I don't at all want that. We must live for +society." + +"Princess Yusupova wore one exactly like this," said Berg, +pointing to the fichu with a happy and kindly smile. + +Just then Count Bezukhov was announced. Husband and wife glanced +at one another, both smiling with self-satisfaction, and each mentally +claiming the honor of this visit. + +"This is what what comes of knowing how to make acquaintances," +thought Berg. "This is what comes of knowing how to conduct oneself." + +"But please don't interrupt me when I am entertaining the guests," +said Vera, "because I know what interests each of them and what to say +to different people." + +Berg smiled again. + +"It can't be helped: men must sometimes have masculine +conversation," said he. + +They received Pierre in their small, new drawing-room, where it +was impossible to sit down anywhere without disturbing its symmetry, +neatness, and order; so it was quite comprehensible and not strange +that Berg, having generously offered to disturb the symmetry of an +armchair or of the sofa for his dear guest, but being apparently +painfully undecided on the matter himself, eventually left the visitor +to settle the question of selection. Pierre disturbed the symmetry +by moving a chair for himself, and Berg and Vera immediately began +their evening party, interrupting each other in their efforts to +entertain their guest. + +Vera, having decided in her own mind that Pierre ought to be +entertained with conversation about the French embassy, at once +began accordingly. Berg, having decided that masculine conversation +was required, interrupted his wife's remarks and touched on the +question of the war with Austria, and unconsciously jumped from the +general subject to personal considerations as to the proposals made +him to take part in the Austrian campaign and the reasons why he had +declined them. Though the conversation was very incoherent and Vera +was angry at the intrusion of the masculine element, both husband +and wife felt with satisfaction that, even if only one guest was +present, their evening had begun very well and was as like as two peas +to every other evening party with its talk, tea, and lighted candles. + +Before long Boris, Berg's old comrade, arrived. There was a shade of +condescension and patronage in his treatment of Berg and Vera. After +Boris came a lady with the colonel, then the general himself, then the +Rostovs, and the party became unquestionably exactly like all other +evening parties. Berg and Vera could not repress their smiles of +satisfaction at the sight of all this movement in their drawing +room, at the sound of the disconnected talk, the rustling of +dresses, and the bowing and scraping. Everything was just as everybody +always has it, especially so the general, who admired the apartment, +patted Berg on the shoulder, and with parental authority superintended +the setting out of the table for boston. The general sat down by Count +Ilya Rostov, who was next to himself the most important guest. The old +people sat with the old, the young with the young, and the hostess +at the tea table, on which stood exactly the same kind of cakes in a +silver cake basket as the Panins had at their party. Everything was +just as it was everywhere else. + +CHAPTER XXI + +Pierre, as one of the principal guests, had to sit down to boston +with Count Rostov, the general, and the colonel. At the card table +he happened to be directly facing Natasha, and was struck by a curious +change that had come over her since the ball, She was silent, and +not only less pretty than at the ball, but only redeemed from +plainness by her look of gentle indifference to everything around. + +"What's the matter with her?" thought Pierre, glancing at her. She +was sitting by her sister at the tea table, and reluctantly, without +looking at him, made some reply to Boris who sat down beside her. +After playing out a whole suit and to his partner's delight taking +five tricks, Pierre, hearing greetings and the steps of someone who +had entered the room while he was picking up his tricks, glanced again +at Natasha. + +"What has happened to her?" he asked himself with still greater +surprise. + +Prince Andrew was standing before her, saying something to her +with a look of tender solicitude. She, having raised her head, was +looking up at him, flushed and evidently trying to master her rapid +breathing. And the bright glow of some inner fire that had been +suppressed was again alight in her. She was completely transformed and +from a plain girl had again become what she had been at the ball. + +Prince Andrew went up to Pierre, and the latter noticed a new and +youthful expression in his friend's face. + +Pierre changed places several times during the game, sitting now +with his back to Natasha and now facing her, but during the whole of +the six rubbers he watched her and his friend. + +"Something very important is happening between them," thought +Pierre, and a feeling that was both joyful and painful agitated him +and made him neglect the game. + +After six rubbers the general got up, saying that it was no use +playing like that, and Pierre was released. Natasha on one side was +talking with Sonya and Boris, and Vera with a subtle smile was +saying something to Prince Andrew. Pierre went up to his friend and, +asking whether they were talking secrets, sat down beside them. +Vera, having noticed Prince Andrew's attentions to Natasha, decided +that at a party, a real evening party, subtle allusions to the +tender passion were absolutely necessary and, seizing a moment when +Prince Andrew was alone, began a conversation with him about +feelings in general and about her sister. With so intellectual a guest +as she considered Prince Andrew to be, she felt that she had to employ +her diplomatic tact. + +When Pierre went up to them he noticed that Vera was being carried +away by her self-satisfied talk, but that Prince Andrew seemed +embarrassed, a thing that rarely happened with him. + +"What do you think?" Vera was saying with an arch smile. "You are so +discerning, Prince, and understand people's characters so well at a +glance. What do you think of Natalie? Could she be constant in her +attachments? Could she, like other women" (Vera meant herself), +"love a man once for all and remain true to him forever? That is +what I consider true love. What do you think, Prince?" + +"I know your sister too little," replied Prince Andrew, with a +sarcastic smile under which he wished to hide his embarrassment, "to +be able to solve so delicate a question, and then I have noticed +that the less attractive a woman is the more constant she is likely to +be," he added, and looked up Pierre who was just approaching them. + +"Yes, that is true, Prince. In our days," continued Vera- mentioning +"our days" as people of limited intelligence are fond of doing, +imagining that they have discovered and appraised the peculiarities of +"our days" and that human characteristics change with the times- "in +our days a girl has so much freedom that the pleasure of being courted +often stifles real feeling in her. And it must be confessed that +Natalie is very susceptible." This return to the subject of Natalie +caused Prince Andrew to knit his brows with discomfort: he was about +to rise, but Vera continued with a still more subtle smile: + +"I think no one has been more courted than she," she went on, "but +till quite lately she never cared seriously for anyone. Now you +know, Count," she said to Pierre, "even our dear cousin Boris, who, +between ourselves, was very far gone in the land of tenderness..." +(alluding to a map of love much in vogue at that time). + +Prince Andrew frowned and remained silent. + +"You are friendly with Boris, aren't you?" asked Vera. + +"Yes, I know him..." + +"I expect he has told you of his childish love for Natasha?" + +"Oh, there was childish love?" suddenly asked Prince Andrew, +blushing unexpectedly. + +"Yes, you know between cousins intimacy often leads to love. Le +cousinage est un dangereux voisinage.~^ Don't you think so?" + +^~ "Cousinhood is a dangerous neighborhood." + +"Oh, undoubtedly!" said Prince Andrew, and with sudden and unnatural +liveliness he began chaffing Pierre about the need to be very +careful with his fifty-year-old Moscow cousins, and in the midst of +these jesting remarks he rose, taking Pierre by the arm, and drew +him aside. + +"Well?" asked Pierre, seeing his friend's strange animation with +surprise, and noticing the glance he turned on Natasha as he rose. + +"I must... I must have a talk with you," said Prince Andrew. "You +know that pair of women's gloves?" (He referred to the Masonic +gloves given to a newly initiated Brother to present to the woman he +loved.) "I... but no, I will talk to you later on," and with a strange +light in his eyes and restlessness in his movements, Prince Andrew +approached Natasha and sat down beside her. Pierre saw how Prince +Andrew asked her something and how she flushed as she replied. + +But at that moment Berg came to Pierre and began insisting that he +should take part in an argument between the general and the colonel on +the affairs in Spain. + +Berg was satisfied and happy. The smile of pleasure never left his +face. The party was very successful and quite like other parties he +had seen. Everything was similar: the ladies' subtle talk, the +cards, the general raising his voice at the card table, and the +samovar and the tea cakes; only one thing was lacking that he had +always seen at the evening parties he wished to imitate. They had +not yet had a loud conversation among the men and a dispute about +something important and clever. Now the general had begun such a +discussion and so Berg drew Pierre to it. + +CHAPTER XXII + +Next day, having been invited by the count, Prince Andrew dined with +the Rostovs and spent the rest of the day there. + +Everyone in the house realized for whose sake Prince Andrew came, +and without concealing it he tried to be with Natasha all day. Not +only in the soul of the frightened yet happy and enraptured Natasha, +but in the whole house, there was a feeling of awe at something +important that was bound to happen. The countess looked with sad and +sternly serious eyes at Prince Andrew when he talked to Natasha and +timidly started some artificial conversation about trifles as soon +as he looked her way. Sonya was afraid to leave Natasha and afraid +of being in the way when she was with them. Natasha grew pale, in a +panic of expectation, when she remained alone with him for a moment. +Prince Andrew surprised her by his timidity. She felt that he wanted +to say something to her but could not bring himself to do so. + +In the evening, when Prince Andrew had left, the countess went up to +Natasha and whispered: "Well, what?" + +"Mamma! For heaven's sake don't ask me anything now! One can't +talk about that," said Natasha. + +But all the same that night Natasha, now agitated and now +frightened, lay long time in her mother's bed gazing straight before +her. She told her how he had complimented her, how he told her he +was going abroad, asked her where they were going to spend the summer, +and then how he had asked her about Boris. + +"But such a... such a... never happened to me before!" she said. +"Only I feel afraid in his presence. I am always afraid when I'm +with him. What does that mean? Does it mean that it's the real +thing? Yes? Mamma, are you asleep?" + +"No, my love; I am frightened myself," answered her mother. "Now +go!" + +"All the same I shan't sleep. What silliness, to sleep! Mummy! +Mummy! such a thing never happened to me before," she said, +surprised and alarmed at the feeling she was aware of in herself. "And +could we ever have thought!..." + +It seemed to Natasha that even at the time she first saw Prince +Andrew at Otradnoe she had fallen in love with him. It was as if she +feared this strange, unexpected happiness of meeting again the very +man she had then chosen (she was firmly convinced she had done so) and +of finding him, as it seemed, not indifferent to her. + +"And it had to happen that he should come specially to Petersburg +while we are here. And it had to happen that we should meet at that +ball. It is fate. Clearly it is fate that everything led up to this! +Already then, directly I saw him I felt something peculiar." + +"What else did he say to you? What are those verses? Read them..." +said her mother, thoughtfully, referring to some verses Prince +Andrew had written in Natasha's album. + +"Mamma, one need not be ashamed of his being a widower?" + +"Don't, Natasha! Pray to God. 'Marriages are made in heaven,'" +said her mother. + +"Darling Mummy, how I love you! How happy I am!" cried Natasha, +shedding tears of joy and excitement and embracing her mother. + +At that very time Prince Andrew was sitting with Pierre and +telling him of his love for Natasha and his firm resolve to make her +his wife. + +That day Countess Helene had a reception at her house. The French +ambassador was there, and a foreign prince of the blood who had of +late become a frequent visitor of hers, and many brilliant ladies +and gentlemen. Pierre, who had come downstairs, walked through the +rooms and struck everyone by his preoccupied, absent-minded, and +morose air. + +Since the ball he had felt the approach of a fit of nervous +depression and had made desperate efforts to combat it. Since the +intimacy of his wife with the royal prince, Pierre had unexpectedly +been made a gentleman of the bedchamber, and from that time he had +begun to feel oppressed and ashamed in court society, and dark +thoughts of the vanity of all things human came to him oftener than +before. At the same time the feeling he had noticed between his +protegee Natasha and Prince Andrew accentuated his gloom by the +contrast between his own position and his friend's. He tried equally +to avoid thinking about his wife, and about Natasha and Prince Andrew; +and again everything seemed to him insignificant in comparison with +eternity; again the question: for what? presented itself; and he +forced himself to work day and night at Masonic labors, hoping to +drive away the evil spirit that threatened him. Toward midnight, after +he had left the countess' apartments, he was sitting upstairs in a +shabby dressing gown, copying out the original transaction of the +Scottish lodge of Freemasons at a table in his low room cloudy with +tobacco smoke, when someone came in. It was Prince Andrew. + +"Ah, it's you!" said Pierre with a preoccupied, dissatisfied air. +"And I, you see, am hard at it." He pointed to his manuscript book +with that air of escaping from the ills of life with which unhappy +people look at their work. + +Prince Andrew, with a beaming, ecstatic expression of renewed life +on his face, paused in front of Pierre and, not noticing his sad look, +smiled at him with the egotism of joy. + +"Well, dear heart," said he, "I wanted to tell you about it +yesterday and I have come to do so today. I never experienced anything +like it before. I am in love, my friend!" + +Suddenly Pierre heaved a deep sigh and dumped his heavy person +down on the sofa beside Prince Andrew. + +"With Natasha Rostova, yes?" said he. + +"Yes, yes! Who else should it be? I should never have believed it, +but the feeling is stronger than I. Yesterday I tormented myself and +suffered, but I would not exchange even that torment for anything in +the world, I have not lived till now. At last I live, but I can't live +without her! But can she love me?... I am too old for her.... Why +don't you speak?" + +"I? I? What did I tell you?" said Pierre suddenly, rising and +beginning to pace up and down the room. "I always thought it.... +That girl is such a treasure... she is a rare girl.... My dear friend, +I entreat you, don't philosophize, don't doubt, marry, marry, +marry.... And I am sure there will not be a happier man than you." + +"But what of her?" + +"She loves you." + +"Don't talk rubbish..." said Prince Andrew, smiling and looking into +Pierre's eyes. + +"She does, I know," Pierre cried fiercely. + +"But do listen," returned Prince Andrew, holding him by the arm. "Do +you know the condition I am in? I must talk about it to someone." + +"Well, go on, go on. I am very glad," said Pierre, and his face +really changed, his brow became smooth, and he listened gladly to +Prince Andrew. Prince Andrew seemed, and really was, quite a +different, quite a new man. Where was his spleen, his contempt for +life, his disillusionment? Pierre was the only person to whom he +made up his mind to speak openly; and to him he told all that was in +his soul. Now he boldly and lightly made plans for an extended future, +said he could not sacrifice his own happiness to his father's caprice, +and spoke of how he would either make his father consent to this +marriage and love her, or would do without his consent; then he +marveled at the feeling that had mastered him as at something strange, +apart from and independent of himself. + +"I should not have believed anyone who told me that I was capable of +such love," said Prince Andrew. "It is not at all the same feeling +that I knew in the past. The whole world is now for me divided into +two halves: one half is she, and there all is joy, hope, light: the +other half is everything where she is not, and there is all gloom +and darkness...." + +"Darkness and gloom," reiterated Pierre: "yes, yes, I understand +that." + +"I cannot help loving the light, it is not my fault. And I am very +happy! You understand me? I know you are glad for my sake." + +"Yes, yes," Pierre assented, looking at his friend with a touched +and sad expression in his eyes. The brighter Prince Andrew's lot +appeared to him, the gloomier seemed his own. + +CHAPTER XXIII + +Prince Andrew needed his father's consent to his marriage, and to +obtain this he started for the country next day. + +His father received his son's communication with external composure, +but inward wrath. He could not comprehend how anyone could wish to +alter his life or introduce anything new into it, when his own life +was already ending. "If only they would let me end my days as I want +to," thought the old man, "then they might do as they please." With +his son, however, he employed the diplomacy he reserved for +important occasions and, adopting a quiet tone, discussed the whole +matter. + +In the first place the marriage was not a brilliant one as regards +birth, wealth, or rank. Secondly, Prince Andrew was no longer as young +as he had been and his health was poor (the old man laid special +stress on this), while she was very young. Thirdly, he had a son +whom it would be a pity to entrust to a chit of a girl. "Fourthly +and finally," the father said, looking ironically at his son, "I beg +you to put it off for a year: go abroad, take a cure, look out as +you wanted to for a German tutor for Prince Nicholas. Then if your +love or passion or obstinacy- as you please- is still as great, marry! +And that's my last word on it. Mind, the last..." concluded the +prince, in a tone which showed that nothing would make him alter his +decision. + +Prince Andrew saw clearly that the old man hoped that his +feelings, or his fiancee's, would not stand a year's test, or that +he (the old prince himself) would die before then, and he decided to +conform to his father's wish- to propose, and postpone the wedding for +a year. + +Three weeks after the last evening he had spent with the Rostovs, +Prince Andrew returned to Petersburg. + +Next day after her talk with her mother Natasha expected Bolkonski +all day, but he did not come. On the second and third day it was the +same. Pierre did not come either and Natasha, not knowing that +Prince Andrew had gone to see his father, could not explain his +absence to herself. + +Three weeks passed in this way. Natasha had no desire to go out +anywhere and wandered from room to room like a shadow, idle and +listless; she wept secretly at night and did not go to her mother in +the evenings. She blushed continually and was irritable. It seemed +to her that everybody knew about her disappointment and was laughing +at her and pitying her. Strong as was her inward grief, this wound +to her vanity intensified her misery. + +Once she came to her mother, tried to say something, and suddenly +began to cry. Her tears were those of an offended child who does not +know why it is being punished. + +The countess began to soothe Natasha, who after first listening to +her mother's words, suddenly interrupted her: + +"Leave off, Mamma! I don't think, and don't want to think about +it! He just came and then left off, left off..." + +Her voice trembled, and she again nearly cried, but recovered and +went on quietly: + +"And I don't at all want to get married. And I am afraid of him; I +have now become quite calm, quite calm." + +The day after this conversation Natasha put on the old dress which +she knew had the peculiar property of conducing to cheerfulness in the +mornings, and that day she returned to the old way of life which she +had abandoned since the ball. Having finished her morning tea she went +to the ballroom, which she particularly liked for its loud +resonance, and began singing her solfeggio. When she had finished +her first exercise she stood still in the middle of the room and +sang a musical phrase that particularly pleased her. She listened +joyfully (as though she had not expected it) to the charm of the notes +reverberating, filling the whole empty ballroom, and slowly dying +away; and all at once she felt cheerful. "What's the good of making so +much of it? Things are nice as it is," she said to herself, and she +began walking up and down the room, not stepping simply on the +resounding parquet but treading with each step from the heel to the +toe (she had on a new and favorite pair of shoes) and listening to the +regular tap of the heel and creak of the toe as gladly as she had to +the sounds of her own voice. Passing a mirror she glanced into it. +"There, that's me!" the expression of her face seemed to say as she +caught sight of herself. "Well, and very nice too! I need nobody." + +A footman wanted to come in to clear away something in the room +but she would not let him, and having closed the door behind him +continued her walk. That morning she had returned to her favorite +mood- love of, and delight in, herself. "How charming that Natasha +is!" she said again, speaking as some third, collective, male +person. "Pretty, a good voice, young, and in nobody's way if only they +leave her in peace." But however much they left her in peace she could +not now be at peace, and immediately felt this. + +In the hall the porch door opened, and someone asked, "At home?" and +then footsteps were heard. Natasha was looking at the mirror, but +did not see herself. She listened to the sounds in the hall. When +she saw herself, her face was pale. It was he. She knew this for +certain, though she hardly heard his voice through the closed doors. + +Pale and agitated, Natasha ran into the drawing room. + +"Mamma! Bolkonski has come!" she said. "Mamma, it is awful, it is +unbearable! I don't want... to be tormented? What am I to do?..." + +Before the countess could answer, Prince Andrew entered the room +with an agitated and serious face. As soon as he saw Natasha his +face brightened. He kissed the countess' hand and Natasha's, and sat +down beside the sofa. + +"It is long since we had the pleasure..." began the countess, but +Prince Andrew interrupted her by answering her intended question, +obviously in haste to say what he had to. + +"I have not been to see all this time because I have been at my +father's. I had to talk over a very important matter with him. I +only got back last night," he said glancing at Natasha; "I want to +have a talk with you, Countess," he added after a moment's pause. + +The countess lowered her eyes, sighing deeply. + +"I am at your disposal," she murmured. + +Natasha knew that she ought to go away, but was unable to do so: +something gripped her throat, and regardless of manners she stared +straight at Prince Andrew with wide-open eyes. + +"At once? This instant!... No, it can't be!" she thought. + +Again he glanced at her, and that glance convinced her that she +was not mistaken. Yes, at once, that very instant, her fate would be +decided. + +"Go, Natasha! I will call you," said the countess in a whisper. + +Natasha glanced with frightened imploring eyes at Prince Andrew +and at her mother and went out. + +"I have come, Countess, to ask for your daughter's hand," said +Prince Andrew. + +The countess' face flushed hotly, but she said nothing. + +"Your offer..." she began at last sedately. He remained silent, +looking into her eyes. "Your offer..." (she grew confused) "is +agreeable to us, and I accept your offer. I am glad. And my husband... +I hope... but it will depend on her...." + +"I will speak to her when I have your consent.... Do you give it +to me?" said Prince Andrew. + +"Yes," replied the countess. She held out her hand to him, and +with a mixed feeling of estrangement and tenderness pressed her lips +to his forehead as he stooped to kiss her hand. She wished to love him +as a son, but felt that to her he was a stranger and a terrifying man. +"I am sure my husband will consent," said the countess, "but your +father..." + +"My father, to whom I have told my plans, has made it an express +condition of his consent that the wedding is not to take place for a +year. And I wished to tell you of that," said Prince Andrew. + +"It is true that Natasha is still young, but- so long as that?..." + +"It is unavoidable," said Prince Andrew with a sigh. + +"I will send her to you," said the countess, and left the room. + +"Lord have mercy upon us!" she repeated while seeking her daughter. + +Sonya said that Natasha was in her bedroom. Natasha was sitting on +the bed, pale and dry eyed, and was gazing at the icons and whispering +something as she rapidly crossed herself. Seeing her mother she jumped +up and flew to her. + +"Well, Mamma?... Well?..." + +"Go, go to him. He is asking for your hand," said the countess, +coldly it seemed to Natasha. "Go... go," said the mother, sadly and +reproachfully, with a deep sigh, as her daughter ran away. + +Natasha never remembered how she entered the drawing room. When +she came in and saw him she paused. "Is it possible that this stranger +has now become everything to me?" she asked herself, and immediately +answered, "Yes, everything! He alone is now dearer to me than +everything in the world." Prince Andrew came up to her with downcast +eyes. + +"I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you. May I hope?" + +He looked at her and was struck by the serious impassioned +expression of her face. Her face said: "Why ask? Why doubt what you +cannot but know? Why speak, when words cannot express what one feels?" + +She drew near to him and stopped. He took her hand and kissed it. + +"Do you love me?" + +"Yes, yes!" Natasha murmured as if in vexation. Then she sighed +loudly and, catching her breath more and more quickly, began to sob. + +"What is it? What's the matter?" + +"Oh, I am so happy!" she replied, smiled through her tears, bent +over closer to him, paused for an instant as if asking herself whether +she might, and then kissed him. + +Prince Andrew held her hands, looked into her eyes, and did not find +in his heart his former love for her. Something in him had suddenly +changed; there was no longer the former poetic and mystic charm of +desire, but there was pity for her feminine and childish weakness, +fear at her devotion and trustfulness, and an oppressive yet joyful +sense of the duty that now bound him to her forever. The present +feeling, though not so bright and poetic as the former, was stronger +and more serious. + +"Did your mother tell you that it cannot be for a year?" asked +Prince Andrew, still looking into her eyes. + +"Is it possible that I- the 'chit of a girl,' as everybody called +me," thought Natasha- "is it possible that I am now to be the wife and +the equal of this strange, dear, clever man whom even my father +looks up to? Can it be true? Can it be true that there can be no +more playing with life, that now I am grown up, that on me now lies +a responsibility for my every word and deed? Yes, but what did he +ask me?" + +"No," she replied, but she had not understood his question. + +"Forgive me!" he said. "But you are so young, and I have already +been through so much in life. I am afraid for you, you do not yet know +yourself." + +Natasha listened with concentrated attention, trying but failing +to take in the meaning of his words. + +"Hard as this year which delays my happiness will be," continued +Prince Andrew, "it will give you time to be sure of yourself. I ask +you to make me happy in a year, but you are free: our engagement shall +remain a secret, and should you find that you do not love me, or +should you come to love..." said Prince Andrew with an unnatural +smile. + +"Why do you say that?" Natasha interrupted him. "You know that +from the very day you first came to Otradnoe I have loved you," she +cried, quite convinced that she spoke the truth. + +"In a year you will learn to know yourself...." + +"A whole year!" Natasha repeated suddenly, only now realizing that +the marriage was to be postponed for a year. "But why a year? Why a +year?..." + +Prince Andrew began to explain to her the reasons for this delay. +Natasha did not hear him. + +"And can't it be helped?" she asked. Prince Andrew did not reply, +but his face expressed the impossibility of altering that decision. + +"It's awful! Oh, it's awful! awful!" Natasha suddenly cried, and +again burst into sobs. "I shall die, waiting a year: it's +impossible, it's awful!" She looked into her lover's face and saw in +it a look of commiseration and perplexity. + +"No, no! I'll do anything!" she said, suddenly checking her tears. +"I am so happy." + +The father and mother came into the room and gave the betrothed +couple their blessing. + +From that day Prince Andrew began to frequent the Rostovs' as +Natasha's affianced lover. + +CHAPTER XXIV + +No betrothal ceremony took place and Natasha's engagement to +Bolkonski was not announced; Prince Andrew insisted on that. He said +that as he was responsible for the delay he ought to bear the whole +burden of it; that he had given his word and bound himself forever, +but that he did not wish to bind Natasha and gave her perfect freedom. +If after six months she felt that she did not love him she would +have full right to reject him. Naturally neither Natasha nor her +parents wished to hear of this, but Prince Andrew was firm. He came +every day to the Rostovs', but did not behave to Natasha as an +affianced lover: he did not use the familiar thou, but said you to +her, and kissed only her hand. After their engagement, quite +different, intimate, and natural relations sprang up between them. +It was as if they had not known each other till now. Both liked to +recall how they had regarded each other when as yet they were +nothing to one another; they felt themselves now quite different +beings: then they were artificial, now natural and sincere. At first +the family felt some constraint in intercourse with Prince Andrew; +he seemed a man from another world, and for a long time Natasha +trained the family to get used to him, proudly assuring them all +that he only appeared to be different, but was really just like all of +them, and that she was not afraid of him and no one else ought to +be. After a few days they grew accustomed to him, and without +restraint in his presence pursued their usual way of life, in which he +took his part. He could talk about rural economy with the count, +fashions with the countess and Natasha, and about albums and fancywork +with Sonya. Sometimes the household both among themselves and in his +presence expressed their wonder at how it had all happened, and at the +evident omens there had been of it: Prince Andrew's coming to Otradnoe +and their coming to Petersburg, and the likeness between Natasha and +Prince Andrew which her nurse had noticed on his first visit, and +Andrew's encounter with Nicholas in 1805, and many other incidents +betokening that it had to be. + +In the house that poetic dullness and quiet reigned which always +accompanies the presence of a betrothed couple. Often when all sitting +together everyone kept silent. Sometimes the others would get up and +go away and the couple, left alone, still remained silent. They rarely +spoke of their future life. Prince Andrew was afraid and ashamed to +speak of it. Natasha shared this as she did all his feelings, which +she constantly divined. Once she began questioning him about his +son. Prince Andrew blushed, as he often did now- Natasha +particularly liked it in him- and said that his son would not live +with them. + +"Why not?" asked Natasha in a frightened tone. + +"I cannot take him away from his grandfather, and besides..." + +"How I should have loved him!" said Natasha, immediately guessing +his thought; "but I know you wish to avoid any pretext for finding +fault with us." + +Sometimes the old count would come up, kiss Prince Andrew, and ask +his advice about Petya's education or Nicholas' service. The old +countess sighed as she looked at them; Sonya was always getting +frightened lest she should be in the way and tried to find excuses for +leaving them alone, even when they did not wish it. When Prince Andrew +spoke (he could tell a story very well), Natasha listened to him +with pride; when she spoke she noticed with fear and joy that he gazed +attentively and scrutinizingly at her. She asked herself in +perplexity: "What does he look for in me? He is trying to discover +something by looking at me! What if what he seeks in me is not there?" +Sometimes she fell into one of the mad, merry moods characteristic +of her, and then she particularly loved to hear and see how Prince +Andrew laughed. He seldom laughed, but when he did he abandoned +himself entirely to his laughter, and after such a laugh she always +felt nearer to him. Natasha would have been completely happy if the +thought of the separation awaiting her and drawing near had not +terrified her, just as the mere thought of it made him turn pale and +cold. + +On the eve of his departure from Petersburg Prince Andrew brought +with him Pierre, who had not been to the Rostovs' once since the ball. +Pierre seemed disconcerted and embarrassed. He was talking to the +countess, and Natasha sat down beside a little chess table with Sonya, +thereby inviting Prince Andrew to come too. He did so. + +"You have known Bezukhov a long time?" he asked. "Do you like him?" + +"Yes, he's a dear, but very absurd." + +And as usual when speaking of Pierre, she began to tell anecdotes of +his absent-mindedness, some of which had even been invented about him. + +"Do you know I have entrusted him with our secret? I have known +him from childhood. He has a heart of gold. I beg you, Natalie," +Prince Andrew said with sudden seriousness- "I am going away and +heaven knows what may happen. You may cease to... all right, I know +I am not to say that. Only this, then: whatever may happen to you when +I am not here..." + +"What can happen?" + +"Whatever trouble may come," Prince Andrew continued, "I beg you, +Mademoiselle Sophie, whatever may happen, to turn to him alone for +advice and help! He is a most absent-minded and absurd fellow, but +he has a heart of gold." + +Neither her father, nor her mother, nor Sonya, nor Prince Andrew +himself could have foreseen how the separation from her lover would +act on Natasha. Flushed and agitated she went about the house all that +day, dry-eyed, occupied with most trivial matters as if not +understanding what awaited her. She did not even cry when, on taking +leave, he kissed her hand for the last time. "Don't go!" she said in a +tone that made him wonder whether he really ought not to stay and +which he remembered long afterwards. Nor did she cry when he was gone; +but for several days she sat in her room dry-eyed, taking no +interest in anything and only saying now and then, "Oh, why did he +go away?" + +But a fortnight after his departure, to the surprise of those around +her, she recovered from her mental sickness just as suddenly and +became her old self again, but with a change in her moral physiognomy, +as a child gets up after a long illness with a changed expression of +face. + +CHAPTER XXV + +During that year after his son's departure, Prince Nicholas +Bolkonski's health and temper became much worse. He grew still more +irritable, and it was Princess Mary who generally bore the brunt of +his frequent fits of unprovoked anger. He seemed carefully to seek out +her tender spots so as to torture her mentally as harshly as possible. +Princess Mary had two passions and consequently two joys- her +nephew, little Nicholas, and religion- and these were the favorite +subjects of the prince's attacks and ridicule. Whatever was spoken +of he would bring round to the superstitiousness of old maids, or +the petting and spoiling of children. "You want to make him"- little +Nicholas- "into an old maid like yourself! A pity! Prince Andrew wants +a son and not an old maid," he would say. Or, turning to +Mademoiselle Bourienne, he would ask her in Princess Mary's presence +how she liked our village priests and icons and would joke about them. + +He continually hurt Princess Mary's feelings and tormented her, +but it cost her no effort to forgive him. Could he be to blame +toward her, or could her father, whom she knew loved her in spite of +it all, be unjust? And what is justice? The princess never thought +of that proud word "justice." All the complex laws of man centered for +her in one clear and simple law- the law of love and self-sacrifice +taught us by Him who lovingly suffered for mankind though He Himself +was God. What had she to do with the justice or injustice of other +people? She had to endure and love, and that she did. + +During the winter Prince Andrew had come to Bald Hills and had +been gay, gentle, and more affectionate than Princess Mary had known +him for a long time past. She felt that something had happened to him, +but he said nothing to her about his love. Before he left he had a +long talk with his father about something, and Princess Mary noticed +that before his departure they were dissatisfied with one another. + +Soon after Prince Andrew had gone, Princess Mary wrote to her friend +Julie Karagina in Petersburg, whom she had dreamed (as all girls +dream) of marrying to her brother, and who was at that time in +mourning for her own brother, killed in Turkey. + +Sorrow, it seems, is our common lot, my dear, tender friend Julie. + +Your loss is so terrible that I can only explain it to myself as a +special providence of God who, loving you, wishes to try you and +your excellent mother. Oh, my friend! Religion, and religion alone, +can- I will not say comfort us- but save us from despair. Religion +alone can explain to us what without its help man cannot comprehend: +why, for what cause, kind and noble beings able to find happiness in +life- not merely harming no one but necessary to the happiness of +others- are called away to God, while cruel, useless, harmful persons, +or such as are a burden to themselves and to others, are left +living. The first death I saw, and one I shall never forget- that of +my dear sister-in-law- left that impression on me. Just as you ask +destiny why your splendid brother had to die, so I asked why that +angel Lise, who not only never wronged anyone, but in whose soul there +were never any unkind thoughts, had to die. And what do you think, +dear friend? Five years have passed since then, and already I, with my +petty understanding, begin to see clearly why she had to die, and in +what way that death was but an expression of the infinite goodness +of the Creator, whose every action, though generally +incomprehensible to us, is but a manifestation of His infinite love +for His creatures. Perhaps, I often think, she was too angelically +innocent to have the strength to perform all a mother's duties. As a +young wife she was irreproachable; perhaps she could not have been +so as a mother. As it is, not only has she left us, and particularly +Prince Andrew, with the purest regrets and memories, but probably +she will there receive a place I dare not hope for myself. But not +to speak of her alone, that early and terrible death has had the +most beneficent influence on me and on my brother in spite of all +our grief. Then, at the moment of our loss, these thoughts could not +occur to me; I should then have dismissed them with horror, but now +they are very clear and certain. I write all this to you, dear friend, +only to convince you of the Gospel truth which has become for me a +principle of life: not a single hair of our heads will fall without +His will. And His will is governed only by infinite love for us, and +so whatever befalls us is for our good. + +You ask whether we shall spend next winter in Moscow. In spite of my +wish to see you, I do not think so and do not want to do so. You +will be surprised to hear that the reason for this is Buonaparte! +The case is this: my father's health is growing noticeably worse, he +cannot stand any contradiction and is becoming irritable. This +irritability is, as you know, chiefly directed to political questions. +He cannot endure the notion that Buonaparte is negotiating on equal +terms with all the sovereigns of Europe and particularly with our own, +the grandson of the Great Catherine! As you know, I am quite +indifferent to politics, but from my father's remarks and his talks +with Michael Ivanovich I know all that goes on in the world and +especially about the honors conferred on Buonaparte, who only at +Bald Hills in the whole world, it seems, is not accepted as a great +man, still less as Emperor of France. And my father cannot stand this. +It seems to me that it is chiefly because of his political views +that my father is reluctant to speak of going to Moscow; for he +foresees the encounters that would result from his way of expressing +his views regardless of anybody. All the benefit he might derive +from a course of treatment he would lose as a result of the disputes +about Buonaparte which would be inevitable. In any case it will be +decided very shortly. + +Our family life goes on in the old way except for my brother +Andrew's absence. He, as I wrote you before, has changed very much +of late. After his sorrow he only this year quite recovered his +spirits. He has again become as I used to know him when a child: kind, +affectionate, with that heart of gold to which I know no equal. He has +realized, it seems to me, that life is not over for him. But +together with this mental change he has grown physically much +weaker. He has become thinner and more nervous. I am anxious about him +and glad he is taking this trip abroad which the doctors recommended +long ago. I hope it will cure him. You write that in Petersburg he +is spoken of as one of the most active, cultivated, and capable of the +young men. Forgive my vanity as a relation, but I never doubted it. +The good he has done to everybody here, from his peasants up to the +gentry, is incalculable. On his arrival in Petersburg he received only +his due. I always wonder at the way rumors fly from Petersburg to +Moscow, especially such false ones as that you write about- I mean the +report of my brother's betrothal to the little Rostova. I do not think +my brother will ever marry again, and certainly not her; and this is +why: first, I know that though he rarely speaks about the wife he +has lost, the grief of that loss has gone too deep in his heart for +him ever to decide to give her a successor and our little angel a +stepmother. Secondly because, as far as I know, that girl is not the +kind of girl who could please Prince Andrew. I do not think he would +choose her for a wife, and frankly I do not wish it. But I am +running on too long and am at the end of my second sheet. Good-by, +my dear friend. May God keep you in His holy and mighty care. My +dear friend, Mademoiselle Bourienne, sends you kisses. + +MARY + +CHAPTER XXVI + +In the middle of the summer Princess Mary received an unexpected +letter from Prince Andrew in Switzerland in which he gave her +strange and surprising news. He informed her of his engagement to +Natasha Rostova. The whole letter breathed loving rapture for his +betrothed and tender and confiding affection for his sister. He +wrote that he had never loved as he did now and that only now did he +understand and know what life was. He asked his sister to forgive +him for not having told her of his resolve when he had last visited +Bald Hills, though he had spoken of it to his father. He had not +done so for fear Princess Mary should ask her father to give his +consent, irritating him and having to bear the brunt of his +displeasure without attaining her object. "Besides," he wrote, "the +matter was not then so definitely settled as it is now. My father then +insisted on a delay of a year and now already six months, half of that +period, have passed, and my resolution is firmer than ever. If the +doctors did not keep me here at the spas I should be back in Russia, +but as it is I have to postpone my return for three months. You know +me and my relations with Father. I want nothing from him. I have +been and always shall be independent; but to go against his will and +arouse his anger, now that he may perhaps remain with us such a +short time, would destroy half my happiness. I am now writing to him +about the same question, and beg you to choose a good moment to hand +him the letter and to let me know how he looks at the whole matter and +whether there is hope that he may consent to reduce the term by four +months." + +After long hesitations, doubts, and prayers, Princess Mary gave +the letter to her father. The next day the old prince said to her +quietly: + +"Write and tell your brother to wait till I am dead.... It won't +be long- I shall soon set him free." + +The princess was about to reply, but her father would not let her +speak and, raising his voice more and more, cried: + +"Marry, marry, my boy!... A good family!... Clever people, eh? Rich, +eh? Yes, a nice stepmother little Nicholas will have! Write and tell +him that he may marry tomorrow if he likes. She will be little +Nicholas' stepmother and I'll marry Bourienne!... Ha, ha, ha! He +mustn't be without a stepmother either! Only one thing, no more +women are wanted in my house- let him marry and live by himself. +Perhaps you will go and live with him too?" he added, turning to +Princess Mary. "Go in heavens name! Go out into the frost... the +frost... the frost! + +After this outburst the prince did not speak any more about the +matter. But repressed vexation at his son's poor-spirited behavior +found expression in his treatment of his daughter. To his former +pretexts for irony a fresh one was now added- allusions to stepmothers +and amiabilities to Mademoiselle Bourienne. + +"Why shouldn't I marry her?" he asked his daughter. "She'll make a +splendid princess!" + +And latterly, to her surprise and bewilderment, Princess Mary +noticed that her father was really associating more and more with +the Frenchwoman. She wrote to Prince Andrew about the reception of his +letter, but comforted him with hopes of reconciling their father to +the idea. + +Little Nicholas and his education, her brother Andrew, and +religion were Princess Mary's joys and consolations; but besides that, +since everyone must have personal hopes, Princess Mary in the +profoundest depths of her heart had a hidden dream and hope that +supplied the chief consolation of her life. This comforting dream +and hope were given her by God's folk- the half-witted and other +pilgrims who visited her without the prince's knowledge. The longer +she lived, the more experience and observation she had of life, the +greater was her wonder at the short-sightedness of men who seek +enjoyment and happiness here on earth: toiling, suffering, struggling, +and harming one another, to obtain that impossible, visionary, +sinful happiness. Prince Andrew had loved his wife, she died, but that +was not enough: he wanted to bind his happiness to another woman. +Her father objected to this because he wanted a more distinguished and +wealthier match for Andrew. And they all struggled and suffered and +tormented one another and injured their souls, their eternal souls, +for the attainment of benefits which endure but for an instant. Not +only do we know this ourselves, but Christ, the Son of God, came +down to earth and told us that this life is but for a moment and is +a probation; yet we cling to it and think to find happiness in it. +"How is it that no one realizes this?" thought Princess Mary. "No +one except these despised God's folk who, wallet on back, come to me +by the back door, afraid of being seen by the prince, not for fear +of ill-usage by him but for fear of causing him to sin. To leave +family, home, and all the cares of worldly welfare, in order without +clinging to anything to wander in hempen rags from place to place +under an assumed name, doing no one any harm but praying for all- +for those who drive one away as well as for those who protect one: +higher than that life and truth there is no life or truth!" + +There was one pilgrim, a quiet pockmarked little woman of fifty +called Theodosia, who for over thirty years had gone about barefoot +and worn heavy chains. Princess Mary was particularly fond of her. +Once, when in a room with a lamp dimly lit before the icon Theodosia +was talking of her life, the thought that Theodosia alone had found +the true path of life suddenly came to Princess Mary with such force +that she resolved to become a pilgrim herself. When Theodosia had gone +to sleep Princess Mary thought about this for a long time, and at last +made up her mind that, strange as it might seem, she must go on a +pilgrimage. She disclosed this thought to no one but to her confessor, +Father Akinfi, the monk, and he approved of her intention. Under guise +of a present for the pilgrims, Princess Mary prepared a pilgrim's +complete costume for herself: a coarse smock, bast shoes, a rough +coat, and a black kerchief. Often, approaching the chest of drawers +containing this secret treasure, Princess Mary paused, uncertain +whether the time had not already come to put her project into +execution. + +Often, listening to the pilgrims' tales, she was so stimulated by +their simple speech, mechanical to them but to her so full of deep +meaning, that several times she was on the point of abandoning +everything and running away from home. In imagination she already +pictured herself by Theodosia's side, dressed in coarse rags, +walking with a staff, a wallet on her back, along the dusty road, +directing her wanderings from one saint's shrine to another, free from +envy, earthly love, or desire, and reaching at last the place where +there is no more sorrow or sighing, but eternal joy and bliss. + +"I shall come to a place and pray there, and before having time to +get used to it or getting to love it, I shall go farther. I will go on +till my legs fail, and I'll lie down and die somewhere, and shall at +last reach that eternal, quiet haven, where there is neither sorrow +nor sighing..." thought Princess Mary. + +But afterwards, when she saw her father and especially little Koko +(Nicholas), her resolve weakened. She wept quietly, and felt that +she was a sinner who loved her father and little nephew more than God. + +BOOK SEVEN: 1810 - 11 + +CHAPTER I + +The Bible legend tells us that the absence of labor- idleness- was a +condition of the first man's blessedness before the Fall. Fallen man +has retained a love of idleness, but the curse weighs on the race +not only because we have to seek our bread in the sweat of our +brows, but because our moral nature is such that we cannot be both +idle and at ease. An inner voice tells us we are in the wrong if we +are idle. If man could find a state in which he felt that though +idle he was fulfilling his duty, he would have found one of the +conditions of man's primitive blessedness. And such a state of +obligatory and irreproachable idleness is the lot of a whole class- +the military. The chief attraction of military service has consisted +and will consist in this compulsory and irreproachable idleness. + +Nicholas Rostov experienced this blissful condition to the full +when, after 1807, he continued to serve in the Pavlograd regiment, +in which he already commanded the squadron he had taken over from +Denisov. + +Rostov had become a bluff, good-natured fellow, whom his Moscow +acquaintances would have considered rather bad form, but who was liked +and respected by his comrades, subordinates, and superiors, and was +well contented with his life. Of late, in 1809, he found in letters +from home more frequent complaints from his mother that their +affairs were falling into greater and greater disorder, and that it +was time for him to come back to gladden and comfort his old parents. + +Reading these letters, Nicholas felt a dread of their wanting to +take him away from surroundings in which, protected from all the +entanglements of life, he was living so calmly and quietly. He felt +that sooner or later he would have to re-enter that whirlpool of life, +with its embarrassments and affairs to be straightened out, its +accounts with stewards, quarrels, and intrigues, its ties, society, +and with Sonya's love and his promise to her. It was all dreadfully +difficult and complicated; and he replied to his mother in cold, +formal letters in French, beginning: "My dear Mamma," and ending: +"Your obedient son," which said nothing of when he would return. In +1810 he received letters from his parents, in which they told him of +Natasha's engagement to Bolkonski, and that the wedding would be in +a year's time because the old prince made difficulties. This letter +grieved and mortified Nicholas. In the first place he was sorry that +Natasha, for whom he cared more than for anyone else in the family, +should be lost to the home; and secondly, from his hussar point of +view, he regretted not to have been there to show that fellow +Bolkonski that connection with him was no such great honor after +all, and that if he loved Natasha he might dispense with permission +from his dotard father. For a moment he hesitated whether he should +not apply for leave in order to see Natasha before she was married, +but then came the maneuvers, and considerations about Sonya and +about the confusion of their affairs, and Nicholas again put it off. +But in the spring of that year, he received a letter from his +mother, written without his father's knowledge, and that letter +persuaded him to return. She wrote that if he did not come and take +matters in hand, their whole property would be sold by auction and +they would all have to go begging. The count was so weak, and +trusted Mitenka so much, and was so good-natured, that everybody +took advantage of him and things were going from bad to worse. "For +God's sake, I implore you, come at once if you do not wish to make +me and the whole family wretched," wrote the countess. + +This letter touched Nicholas. He had that common sense of a +matter-of-fact man which showed him what he ought to do. + +The right thing now was, if not to retire from the service, at any +rate to go home on leave. Why he had to go he did not know; but +after his after-dinner nap he gave orders to saddle Mars, an extremely +vicious gray stallion that had not been ridden for a long time, and +when he returned with the horse all in a lather, he informed Lavrushka +(Denisov's servant who had remained with him) and his comrades who +turned up in the evening that he was applying for leave and was +going home. Difficult and strange as it was for him to reflect that he +would go away without having heard from the staff- and this interested +him extremely- whether he was promoted to a captaincy or would receive +the Order of St. Anne for the last maneuvers; strange as it was to +think that he would go away without having sold his three roans to the +Polish Count Golukhovski, who was bargaining for the horses Rostov had +betted he would sell for two thousand rubles; incomprehensible as it +seemed that the ball the hussars were giving in honor of the Polish +Mademoiselle Przazdziecka (out of rivalry to the Uhlans who had +given one in honor of their Polish Mademoiselle Borzozowska) would +take place without him- he knew he must go away from this good, bright +world to somewhere where everything was stupid and confused. A week +later he obtained his leave. His hussar comrades- not only those of +his own regiment, but the whole brigade- gave Rostov a dinner to which +the subscription was fifteen rubles a head, and at which there were +two bands and two choirs of singers. Rostov danced the Trepak with +Major Basov; the tipsy officers tossed, embraced, and dropped +Rostov; the soldiers of the third squadron tossed him too, and shouted +"hurrah!" and then they put him in his sleigh and escorted him as +far as the first post station. + +During the first half of the journey- from Kremenchug to Kiev- all +Rostov's thoughts, as is usual in such cases, were behind him, with +the squadron; but when he had gone more than halfway he began to +forget his three roans and Dozhoyveyko, his quartermaster, and to +wonder anxiously how things would be at Otradnoe and what he would +find there. Thoughts of home grew stronger the nearer he approached +it- far stronger, as though this feeling of his was subject to the law +by which the force of attraction is in inverse proportion to the +square of the distance. At the last post station before Otradnoe he +gave the driver a three-ruble tip, and on arriving he ran +breathlessly, like a boy, up the steps of his home. + +After the rapture of meeting, and after that odd feeling of +unsatisfied expectation- the feeling that "everything is just the +same, so why did I hurry?"- Nicholas began to settle down in his old +home world. His father and mother were much the same, only a little +older. What was new in them was a certain uneasiness and occasional +discord, which there used not to be, and which, as Nicholas soon found +out, was due to the bad state of their affairs. Sonya was nearly +twenty; she had stopped growing prettier and promised nothing more +than she was already, but that was enough. She exhaled happiness and +love from the time Nicholas returned, and the faithful, unalterable +love of this girl had a gladdening effect on him. Petya and Natasha +surprised Nicholas most. Petya was a big handsome boy of thirteen, +merry, witty, and mischievous, with a voice that was already breaking. +As for Natasha, for a long while Nicholas wondered and laughed +whenever he looked at her. + +"You're not the same at all," he said. + +"How? Am I uglier?" + +"On the contrary, but what dignity? A princess!" he whispered to +her. + +"Yes, yes, yes!" cried Natasha, joyfully. + +She told him about her romance with Prince Andrew and of his visit +to Otradnoe and showed him his last letter. + +"Well, are you glad?" Natasha asked. "I am so tranquil and happy +now." + +"Very glad," answered Nicholas. "He is an excellent fellow.... And +are you very much in love?" + +"How shall I put it?" replied Natasha. "I was in love with Boris, +with my teacher, and with Denisov, but this is quite different. I feel +at peace and settled. I know that no better man than he exists, and +I am calm and contented now. Not at all as before." + +Nicholas expressed his disapproval of the postponement of the +marriage for a year; but Natasha attacked her brother with +exasperation, proving to him that it could not be otherwise, and +that it would be a bad thing to enter a family against the father's +will, and that she herself wished it so. + +"You don't at all understand," she said. + +Nicholas was silent and agreed with her. + +Her brother often wondered as he looked at her. She did not seem +at all like a girl in love and parted from her affianced husband. +She was even-tempered and calm and quite as cheerful as of old. This +amazed Nicholas and even made him regard Bolkonski's courtship +skeptically. He could not believe that her fate was sealed, especially +as he had not seen her with Prince Andrew. It always seemed to him +that there was something not quite right about this intended marriage. + +"Why this delay? Why no betrothal?" he thought. Once, when he had +touched on this topic with his mother, he discovered, to his +surprise and somewhat to his satisfaction, that in the depth of her +soul she too had doubts about this marriage. + +"You see he writes," said she, showing her son a letter of Prince +Andrew's, with that latent grudge a mother always has in regard to a +daughter's future married happiness, "he writes that he won't come +before December. What can be keeping him? Illness, probably! His +health is very delicate. Don't tell Natasha. And don't attach +importance to her being so bright: that's because she's living through +the last days of her girlhood, but I know what she is like every +time we receive a letter from him! However, God grant that +everything turns out well!" (She always ended with these words.) "He +is an excellent man!" + +CHAPTER II + +After reaching home Nicholas was at first serious and even dull. +He was worried by the impending necessity of interfering in the stupid +business matters for which his mother had called him home. To throw +off this burden as quickly as possible, on the third day after his +arrival he went, angry and scowling and without answering questions as +to where he was going, to Mitenka's lodge and demanded an account of +everything. But what an account of everything might be Nicholas knew +even less than the frightened and bewildered Mitenka. The conversation +and the examination of the accounts with Mitenka did not last long. +The village elder, a peasant delegate, and the village clerk, who were +waiting in the passage, heard with fear and delight first the young +count's voice roaring and snapping and rising louder and louder, and +then words of abuse, dreadful words, ejaculated one after the other. + +"Robber!... Ungrateful wretch!... I'll hack the dog to pieces! I'm +not my father!... Robbing us!..." and so on. + +Then with no less fear and delight they saw how the young count, red +in the face and with bloodshot eyes, dragged Mitenka out by the scruff +of the neck and applied his foot and knee to him behind with great +agility at convenient moments between the words, shouting, "Be off! +Never let me see your face here again, you villain!" + +Mitenka flew headlong down the six steps and ran away into the +shrubbery. (This shrubbery was a well-known haven of refuge for +culprits at Otradnoe. Mitenka himself, returning tipsy from the +town, used to hide there, and many of the residents at Otradnoe, +hiding from Mitenka, knew of its protective qualities.) + +Mitenka's wife and sisters-in-law thrust their heads and +frightened faces out of the door of a room where a bright samovar +was boiling and where the steward's high bedstead stood with its +patchwork quilt. + +The young count paid no heed to them, but, breathing hard, passed by +with resolute strides and went into the house. + +The countess, who heard at once from the maids what had happened +at the lodge, was calmed by the thought that now their affairs would +certainly improve, but on the other hand felt anxious as to the effect +this excitement might have on her son. She went several times to his +door on tiptoe and listened, as he lighted one pipe after another. + +Next day the old count called his son aside and, with an embarrassed +smile, said to him: + +"But you know, my dear boy, it's a pity you got excited! Mitenka has +told me all about it." + +"I knew," thought Nicholas, "that I should never understand anything +in this crazy world." + +"You were angry that he had not entered those 700 rubles. But they +were carried forward- and you did not look at the other page." + +"Papa, he is a blackguard and a thief! I know he is! And what I have +done, I have done; but, if you like, I won't speak to him again." + +"No, my dear boy" (the count, too, felt embarrassed. He knew he +had mismanaged his wife's property and was to blame toward his +children, but he did not know how to remedy it). "No, I beg you to +attend to the business. I am old. I..." + +"No, Papa. Forgive me if I have caused you unpleasantness. I +understand it all less than you do." + +"Devil take all these peasants, and money matters, and carryings +forward from page to page," he thought. "I used to understand what a +'corner' and the stakes at cards meant, but carrying forward to +another page I don't understand at all," said he to himself, and after +that he did not meddle in business affairs. But once the countess +called her son and informed him that she had a promissory note from +Anna Mikhaylovna for two thousand rubles, and asked him what he +thought of doing with it. + +"This," answered Nicholas. "You say it rests with me. Well, I +don't like Anna Mikhaylovna and I don't like Boris, but they were +our friends and poor. Well then, this!" and he tore up the note, and +by so doing caused the old countess to weep tears of joy. After +that, young Rostov took no further part in any business affairs, but +devoted himself with passionate enthusiasm to what was to him a new +pursuit- the chase- for which his father kept a large establishment. + +CHAPTER III + +The weather was already growing wintry and morning frosts +congealed an earth saturated by autumn rains. The verdure had +thickened and its bright green stood out sharply against the +brownish strips of winter rye trodden down by the cattle, and +against the pale-yellow stubble of the spring buckwheat. The wooded +ravines and the copses, which at the end of August had still been +green islands amid black fields and stubble, had become golden and +bright-red islands amid the green winter rye. The hares had already +half changed their summer coats, the fox cubs were beginning to +scatter, and the young wolves were bigger than dogs. It was the best +time of the year for the chase. The hounds of that ardent young +sportsman Rostov had not merely reached hard winter condition, but +were so jaded that at a meeting of the huntsmen it was decided to give +them a three days' rest and then, on the sixteenth of September, to go +on a distant expedition, starting from the oak grove where there was +an undisturbed litter of wolf cubs. + +All that day the hounds remained at home. It was frosty and the +air was sharp, but toward evening the sky became overcast and it began +to thaw. On the fifteenth, when young Rostov, in his dressing gown, +looked out of the window, he saw it was an unsurpassable morning for +hunting: it was as if the sky were melting and sinking to the earth +without any wind. The only motion in the air was that of the dripping, +microscopic particles of drizzling mist. The bare twigs in the +garden were hung with transparent drops which fell on the freshly +fallen leaves. The earth in the kitchen garden looked wet and black +and glistened like poppy seed and at a short distance merged into +the dull, moist veil of mist. Nicholas went out into the wet and muddy +porch. There was a smell of decaying leaves and of dog. Milka, a +black-spotted, broad-haunched bitch with prominent black eyes, got +up on seeing her master, stretched her hind legs, lay down like a +hare, and then suddenly jumped up and licked him right on his nose and +mustache. Another borzoi, a dog, catching sight of his master from the +garden path, arched his back and, rushing headlong toward the porch +with lifted tail, began rubbing himself against his legs. + +"O-hoy!" came at that moment, that inimitable huntsman's call +which unites the deepest bass with the shrillest tenor, and round +the corner came Daniel the head huntsman and head kennelman, a gray, +wrinkled old man with hair cut straight over his forehead, Ukrainian +fashion, a long bent whip in his hand, and that look of independence +and scorn of everything that is only seen in huntsmen. He doffed his +Circassian cap to his master and looked at him scornfully. This +scorn was not offensive to his master. Nicholas knew that this Daniel, +disdainful of everybody and who considered himself above them, was all +the same his serf and huntsman. + +"Daniel!" Nicholas said timidly, conscious at the sight of the +weather, the hounds, and the huntsman that he was being carried away +by that irresistible passion for sport which makes a man forget all +his previous resolutions, as a lover forgets in the presence of his +mistress. + +"What orders, your excellency?" said the huntsman in his deep +bass, deep as a proto-deacon's and hoarse with hallooing- and two +flashing black eyes gazed from under his brows at his master, who +was silent. "Can you resist it?" those eyes seemed to be asking. + +"It's a good day, eh? For a hunt and a gallop, eh?" asked +Nicholas, scratching Milka behind the ears. + +Daniel did not answer, but winked instead. + +"I sent Uvarka at dawn to listen," his bass boomed out after a +minute's pause. "He says she's moved them into the Otradnoe enclosure. +They were howling there." (This meant that the she-wolf, about whom +they both knew, had moved with her cubs to the Otradnoe copse, a small +place a mile and a half from the house.) + +"We ought to go, don't you think so?" said Nicholas. "Come to me +with Uvarka." + +"As you please." + +"Then put off feeding them." + +"Yes, sir." + +Five minutes later Daniel and Uvarka were standing in Nicholas' +big study. Though Daniel was not a big man, to see him in a room was +like seeing a horse or a bear on the floor among the furniture and +surroundings of human life. Daniel himself felt this, and as usual +stood just inside the door, trying to speak softly and not move, for +fear of breaking something in the master's apartment, and he +hastened to say all that was necessary so as to get from under that +ceiling, out into the open under the sky once more. + +Having finished his inquiries and extorted from Daniel an opinion +that the hounds were fit (Daniel himself wished to go hunting), +Nicholas ordered the horses to be saddled. But just as Daniel was +about to go Natasha came in with rapid steps, not having done up her +hair or finished dressing and with her old nurse's big shawl wrapped +round her. Petya ran in at the same time. + +"You are going?" asked Natasha. "I knew you would! Sonya said you +wouldn't go, but I knew that today is the sort of day when you +couldn't help going." + +"Yes, we are going," replied Nicholas reluctantly, for today, as +he intended to hunt seriously, he did not want to take Natasha and +Petya. "We are going, but only wolf hunting: it would be dull for +you." + +"You know it is my greatest pleasure," said Natasha. "It's not fair; +you are going by yourself, are having the horses saddled and said +nothing to us about it." + +"'No barrier bars a Russian's path'- we'll go!" shouted Petya. + +"But you can't. Mamma said you mustn't," said Nicholas to Natasha. + +"Yes, I'll go. I shall certainly go," said Natasha decisively. +"Daniel, tell them to saddle for us, and Michael must come with my +dogs," she added to the huntsman. + +It seemed to Daniel irksome and improper to be in a room at all, but +to have anything to do with a young lady seemed to him impossible. +He cast down his eyes and hurried out as if it were none of his +business, careful as he went not to inflict any accidental injury on +the young lady. + +CHAPTER IV + +The old count, who had always kept up an enormous hunting +establishment but had now handed it all completely over to his son's +care, being in very good spirits on this fifteenth of September, +prepared to go out with the others. + +In an hour's time the whole hunting party was at the porch. +Nicholas, with a stern and serious air which showed that now was no +time for attending to trifles, went past Natasha and Petya who were +trying to tell him something. He had a look at all the details of +the hunt, sent a pack of hounds and huntsmen on ahead to find the +quarry, mounted his chestnut Donets, and whistling to his own leash of +borzois, set off across the threshing ground to a field leading to the +Otradnoe wood. The old count's horse, a sorrel gelding called +Viflyanka, was led by the groom in attendance on him, while the +count himself was to drive in a small trap straight to a spot reserved +for him. + +They were taking fifty-four hounds, with six hunt attendants and +whippers-in. Besides the family, there were eight borzoi kennelmen and +more than forty borzois, so that, with the borzois on the leash +belonging to members of the family, there were about a hundred and +thirty dogs and twenty horsemen. + +Each dog knew its master and its call. Each man in the hunt knew his +business. his place, what he had to do. As soon as they had passed the +fence they all spread out evenly and quietly, without noise or talk, +along the road and field leading to the Otradnoe covert. + +The horses stepped over the field as over a thick carpet, now and +then splashing into puddles as they crossed a road. The misty sky +still seemed to descend evenly and imperceptibly toward the earth, the +air was still, warm, and silent. Occasionally the whistle of a +huntsman, the snort of a horse, the crack of a whip, or the whine of a +straggling hound could be heard. + +When they had gone a little less than a mile, five more riders +with dogs appeared out of the mist, approaching the Rostovs. In +front rode a fresh-looking, handsome old man with a large gray +mustache. + +"Good morning, Uncle!" said Nicholas, when the old man drew near. + +"That's it. Come on!... I was sure of it," began "Uncle." (He was +a distant relative of the Rostovs', a man of small means, and their +neighbor.) "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist it and it's a good +thing you're going. That's it! Come on! (This was "Uncle's" favorite +expression.) "Take the covert at once, for my Girchik says the Ilagins +are at Korniki with their hounds. That's it. Come on!... They'll +take the cubs from under your very nose." + +"That's where I'm going. Shall we join up our packs?" asked +Nicholas. + +The hounds were joined into one pack, and "Uncle" and Nicholas +rode on side by side. Natasha, muffled up in shawls which did not hide +her eager face and shining eyes, galloped up to them. She was followed +by Petya who always kept close to her, by Michael, a huntsman, and +by a groom appointed to look after her. Petya, who was laughing, +whipped and pulled at his horse. Natasha sat easily and confidently on +her black Arabchik and reined him in without effort with a firm hand. + +"Uncle" looked round disapprovingly at Petya and Natasha. He did not +like to combine frivolity with the serious business of hunting. + +"Good morning, Uncle! We are going too!" shouted Petya. + +"Good morning, good morning! But don't go overriding the hounds," +said "Uncle" sternly. + +"Nicholas, what a fine dog Trunila is! He knew me," said Natasha, +referring to her favorite hound. + +"In the first place, Trunila is not a 'dog,' but a harrier," thought +Nicholas, and looked sternly at his sister, trying to make her feel +the distance that ought to separate them at that moment. Natasha +understood it. + +"You mustn't think we'll be in anyone's way, Uncle," she said. +"We'll go to our places and won't budge." + +"A good thing too, little countess," said "Uncle," "only mind you +don't fall off your horse," he added, "because- that's it, come on!- +you've nothing to hold on to." + +The oasis of the Otradnoe covert came in sight a few hundred yards +off, the huntsmen were already nearing it. Rostov, having finally +settled with "Uncle" where they should set on the hounds, and having +shown Natasha where she was to stand- a spot where nothing could +possibly run out- went round above the ravine. + +"Well, nephew, you're going for a big wolf," said "Uncle." "Mind and +don't let her slip!" + +"That's as may happen," answered Rostov. "Karay, here!" he +shouted, answering "Uncle's" remark by this call to his borzoi. +Karay was a shaggy old dog with a hanging jowl, famous for having +tackled a big wolf unaided. They all took up their places. + +The old count, knowing his son's ardor in the hunt, hurried so as +not to be late, and the hunstmen had not yet reached their places when +Count Ilya Rostov, cheerful, flushed, and with quivering cheeks, drove +up with his black horses over the winter rye to the place reserved for +him, where a wolf might come out. Having straightened his coat and +fastened on his hunting knives and horn, he mounted his good, sleek, +well-fed, and comfortable horse, Viflyanka, which was turning gray, +like himself. His horses and trap were sent home. Count Ilya Rostov, +though not at heart a keen sportsman, knew the rules of the hunt well, +and rode to the bushy edge of the road where he was to stand, arranged +his reins, settled himself in the saddle, and, feeling that he was +ready, looked about with a smile. + +Beside him was Simon Chekmar, his personal attendant, an old +horseman now somewhat stiff in the saddle. Chekmar held in leash three +formidable wolfhounds, who had, however, grown fat like their master +and his horse. Two wise old dogs lay down unleashed. Some hundred +paces farther along the edge of the wood stood Mitka, the count's +other groom, a daring horseman and keen rider to hounds. Before the +hunt, by old custom, the count had drunk a silver cupful of mulled +brandy, taken a snack, and washed it down with half a bottle of his +favorite Bordeaux. + +He was somewhat flushed with the wine and the drive. His eyes were +rather moist and glittered more than usual, and as he sat in his +saddle, wrapped up in his fur coat, he looked like a child taken out +for an outing. + +The thin, hollow-cheeked Chekmar, having got everything ready, +kept glancing at his master with whom he had lived on the best of +terms for thirty years, and understanding the mood he was in +expected a pleasant chat. A third person rode up circumspectly through +the wood (it was plain that he had had a lesson) and stopped behind +the count. This person was a gray-bearded old man in a woman's +cloak, with a tall peaked cap on his head. He was the buffoon, who +went by a woman's name, Nastasya Ivanovna. + +"Well, Nastasya Ivanovna!" whispered the count, winking at him. +"If you scare away the beast, Daniel'll give it you!" + +"I know a thing or two myself!" said Nastasya Ivanovna. + +"Hush!" whispered the count and turned to Simon. "Have you seen +the young countess?" he asked. "Where is she?" + +"With young Count Peter, by the Zharov rank grass," answered +Simon, smiling. "Though she's a lady, she's very fond of hunting." + +"And you're surprised at the way she rides, Simon, eh?" said the +count. "She's as good as many a man!" + +"Of course! It's marvelous. So bold, so easy!" + +"And Nicholas? Where is he? By the Lyadov upland, isn't he?" + +"Yes, sir. He knows where to stand. He understands the matter so +well that Daniel and I are often quite astounded," said Simon, well +knowing what would please his master. + +"Rides well, eh? And how well he looks on his horse, eh?" + +"A perfect picture! How he chased a fox out of the rank grass by the +Zavarzinsk thicket the other day! Leaped a fearful place; what a sight +when they rushed from the covert... the horse worth a thousand +rubles and the rider beyond all price! Yes, one would have to search +far to find another as smart." + +"To search far..." repeated the count, evidently sorry Simon had not +said more. "To search far," he said, turning back the skirt of his +coat to get at his snuffbox. + +"The other day when he came out from Mass in full uniform, Michael +Sidorych..." Simon did not finish, for on the still air he had +distinctly caught the music of the hunt with only two or three +hounds giving tongue. He bent down his head and listened, shaking a +warning finger at his master. "They are on the scent of the cubs... +" he whispered, "straight to the Lyadov uplands." + +The count, forgetting to smooth out the smile on his face, looked +into the distance straight before him, down the narrow open space, +holding the snuffbox in his hand but not taking any. After the cry +of the hounds came the deep tones of the wolf call from Daniel's +hunting horn; the pack joined the first three hounds and they could be +heard in full cry, with that peculiar lift in the note that +indicates that they are after a wolf. The whippers-in no longer set on +the hounds, but changed to the cry of ulyulyu, and above the others +rose Daniel's voice, now a deep bass, now piercingly shrill. His voice +seemed to fill the whole wood and carried far beyond out into the open +field. + +After listening a few moments in silence, the count and his +attendant convinced themselves that the hounds had separated into +two packs: the sound of the larger pack, eagerly giving tongue, +began to die away in the distance, the other pack rushed by the wood +past the count, and it was with this that Daniel's voice was heard +calling ulyulyu. The sounds of both packs mingled and broke apart +again, but both were becoming more distant. + +Simon sighed and stooped to straighten the leash a young borzoi +had entangled; the count too sighed and, noticing the snuffbox in +his hand, opened it and took a pinch. "Back!" cried Simon to a +borzoi that was pushing forward out of the wood. The count started and +dropped the snuffbox. Nastasya Ivanovna dismounted to pick it up. +The count and Simon were looking at him. + +Then, unexpectedly, as often happens, the sound of the hunt suddenly +approached, as if the hounds in full cry and Daniel ulyulyuing were +just in front of them. + +The count turned and saw on his right Mitka staring at him with eyes +starting out of his head, raising his cap and pointing before him to +the other side. + +"Look out!" he shouted, in a voice plainly showing that he had +long fretted to utter that word, and letting the borzois slip he +galloped toward the count. + +The count and Simon galloped out of the wood and saw on their left a +wolf which, softly swaying from side to side, was coming at a quiet +lope farther to the left to the very place where they were standing. +The angry borzois whined and getting free of the leash rushed past the +horses' feet at the wolf. + +The wolf paused, turned its heavy forehead toward the dogs +awkwardly, like a man suffering from the quinsy, and, still slightly +swaying from side to side, gave a couple of leaps and with a swish +of its tail disappeared into the skirt of the wood. At the same +instant, with a cry like a wail, first one hound, then another, and +then another, sprang helter-skelter from the wood opposite and the +whole pack rushed across the field toward the very spot where the wolf +had disappeared. The hazel bushes parted behind the hounds and +Daniel's chestnut horse appeared, dark with sweat. On its long back +sat Daniel, hunched forward, capless, his disheveled gray hair hanging +over his flushed, perspiring face. + +"Ulyulyulyu! ulyulyu!..." he cried. When he caught sight of the +count his eyes flashed lightning. + +"Blast you!" he shouted, holding up his whip threateningly at the +count. + +"You've let the wolf go!... What sportsmen! and as if scorning to +say more to the frightened and shamefaced count, he lashed the heaving +flanks of his sweating chestnut gelding with all the anger the count +had aroused and flew off after the hounds. The count, like a +punished schoolboy, looked round, trying by a smile to win Simon's +sympathy for his plight. But Simon was no longer there. He was +galloping round by the bushes while the field was coming up on both +sides, all trying to head the wolf, but it vanished into the wood +before they could do so. + +CHAPTER V + +Nicholas Rostov meanwhile remained at his post, waiting for the +wolf. By the way the hunt approached and receded, by the cries of +the dogs whose notes were familiar to him, by the way the voices of +the huntsmen approached, receded, and rose, he realized what was +happening at the copse. He knew that young and old wolves were +there, that the hounds had separated into two packs, that somewhere +a wolf was being chased, and that something had gone wrong. He +expected the wolf to come his way any moment. He made thousands of +different conjectures as to where and from what side the beast would +come and how he would set upon it. Hope alternated with despair. +Several times he addressed a prayer to God that the wolf should come +his way. He prayed with that passionate and shame-faced feeling with +which men pray at moments of great excitement arising from trivial +causes. "What would it be to Thee to do this for me?" he said to +God. "I know Thou art great, and that it is a sin to ask this of Thee, +but for God's sake do let the old wolf come my way and let Karay +spring at it- in sight of 'Uncle' who is watching from over there- and +seize it by the throat in a death grip!" A thousand times during +that half-hour Rostov cast eager and restless glances over the edge of +the wood, with the two scraggy oaks rising above the aspen undergrowth +and the gully with its water-worn side and "Uncle's" cap just +visible above the bush on his right. + +"No, I shan't have such luck," thought Rostov, "yet what wouldn't it +be worth! It is not to be! Everywhere, at cards and in war, I am +always unlucky." Memories of Austerlitz and of Dolokhov flashed +rapidly and clearly through his mind. "Only once in my life to get +an old wolf, I want only that!" thought he, straining eyes and ears +and looking to the left and then to the right and listening to the +slightest variation of note in the cries of the dogs. + +Again he looked to the right and saw something running toward him +across the deserted field. "No, it can't be!" thought Rostov, taking a +deep breath, as a man does at the coming of something long hoped +for. The height of happiness was reached- and so simply, without +warning, or noise, or display, that Rostov could not believe his +eyes and remained in doubt for over a second. The wolf ran forward and +jumped heavily over a gully that lay in her path. She was an old +animal with a gray back and big reddish belly. She ran without +hurry, evidently feeling sure that no one saw her. Rostov, holding his +breath, looked round at the borzois. They stood or lay not seeing +the wolf or understanding the situation. Old Karay had turned his head +and was angrily searching for fleas, baring his yellow teeth and +snapping at his hind legs. + +"Ulyulyulyu!" whispered Rostov, pouting his lips. The borzois jumped +up, jerking the rings of the leashes and pricking their ears. Karay +finished scratching his hindquarters and, cocking his ears, got up +with quivering tail from which tufts of matted hair hung down. + +"Shall I loose them or not?" Nicholas asked himself as the wolf +approached him coming from the copse. Suddenly the wolf's whole +physiognomy changed: she shuddered, seeing what she had probably never +seen before- human eyes fixed upon her- and turning her head a +little toward Rostov, she paused. + +"Back or forward? Eh, no matter, forward..." the wolf seemed to +say to herself, and she moved forward without again looking round +and with a quiet, long, easy yet resolute lope. + +"Ulyulyu!" cried Nicholas, in a voice not his own, and of its own +accord his good horse darted headlong downhill, leaping over gullies +to head off the wolf, and the borzois passed it, running faster still. +Nicholas did not hear his own cry nor feel that he was galloping, +nor see the borzois, nor the ground over which he went: he saw only +the wolf, who, increasing her speed, bounded on in the same +direction along the hollow. The first to come into view was Milka, +with her black markings and powerful quarters, gaining upon the +wolf. Nearer and nearer... now she was ahead of it; but the wolf +turned its head to face her, and instead of putting on speed as she +usually did Milka suddenly raised her tail and stiffened her forelegs. + +"Ulyulyulyulyu!" shouted Nicholas. + +The reddish Lyubim rushed forward from behind Milka, sprang +impetuously at the wolf, and seized it by its hindquarters, but +immediately jumped aside in terror. The wolf crouched, gnashed her +teeth, and again rose and bounded forward, followed at the distance of +a couple of feet by all the borzois, who did not get any closer to +her. + +"She'll get away! No, it's impossible!" thought Nicholas, still +shouting with a hoarse voice. + +"Karay, ulyulyu!..." he shouted, looking round for the old borzoi +who was now his only hope. Karay, with all the strength age had left +him, stretched himself to the utmost and, watching the wolf, +galloped heavily aside to intercept it. But the quickness of the +wolf's lope and the borzoi's slower pace made it plain that Karay +had miscalculated. Nicholas could already see not far in front of +him the wood where the wolf would certainly escape should she reach +it. But, coming toward him, he saw hounds and a huntsman galloping +almost straight at the wolf. There was still hope. A long, yellowish +young borzoi, one Nicholas did not know, from another leash, rushed +impetuously at the wolf from in front and almost knocked her over. But +the wolf jumped up more quickly than anyone could have expected and, +gnashing her teeth, flew at the yellowish borzoi, which, with a +piercing yelp, fell with its head on the ground, bleeding from a +gash in its side. + +"Karay? Old fellow!..." wailed Nicholas. + +Thanks to the delay caused by this crossing of the wolf's path, +the old dog with its felted hair hanging from its thigh was within +five paces of it. As if aware of her danger, the wolf turned her +eyes on Karay, tucked her tail yet further between her legs, and +increased her speed. But here Nicholas only saw that something +happened to Karay- the borzoi was suddenly on the wolf, and they +rolled together down into a gully just in front of them. + +That instant, when Nicholas saw the wolf struggling in the gully +with the dogs, while from under them could be seen her gray hair and +outstretched hind leg and her frightened choking head, with her ears +laid back (Karay was pinning her by the throat), was the happiest +moment of his life. With his hand on his saddlebow, he was ready to +dismount and stab the wolf, when she suddenly thrust her head up +from among that mass of dogs, and then her forepaws were on the edge +of the gully. She clicked her teeth (Karay no longer had her by the +throat), leaped with a movement of her hind legs out of the gully, and +having disengaged herself from the dogs, with tail tucked in again, +went forward. Karay, his hair bristling, and probably bruised or +wounded, climbed with difficulty out of the gully. + +"Oh my God! Why?" Nicholas cried in despair. + +"Uncle's" huntsman was galloping from the other side across the +wolf's path and his borzois once more stopped the animal's advance. +She was again hemmed in. + +Nicholas and his attendant, with "Uncle" and his huntsman, were +all riding round the wolf, crying "ulyulyu!" shouting and preparing to +dismount each moment that the wolf crouched back, and starting forward +again every time she shook herself and moved toward the wood where she +would be safe. + +Already, at the beginning of this chase, Daniel, hearing the +ulyulyuing, had rushed out from the wood. He saw Karay seize the wolf, +and checked his horse, supposing the affair to be over. But when he +saw that the horsemen did not dismount and that the wolf shook herself +and ran for safety, Daniel set his chestnut galloping, not at the wolf +but straight toward the wood, just as Karay had run to cut the +animal off. As a result of this, he galloped up to the wolf just +when she had been stopped a second time by "Uncle's" borzois. + +Daniel galloped up silently, holding a naked dagger in his left hand +and thrashing the laboring sides of his chestnut horse with his whip +as if it were a flail. + +Nicholas neither saw nor heard Daniel until the chestnut, +breathing heavily, panted past him, and he heard the fall of a body +and saw Daniel lying on the wolf's back among the dogs, trying to +seize her by the ears. It was evident to the dogs, the hunters, and to +the wolf herself that all was now over. The terrified wolf pressed +back her ears and tried to rise, but the borzois stuck to her. +Daniel rose a little, took a step, and with his whole weight, as if +lying down to rest, fell on the wolf, seizing her by the ears. +Nicholas was about to stab her, but Daniel whispered, "Don't! We'll +gag her!" and, changing his position, set his foot on the wolf's neck. +A stick was thrust between her jaws and she was fastened with a leash, +as if bridled, her legs were bound together, and Daniel rolled her +over once or twice from side to side. + +With happy, exhausted faces, they laid the old wolf, alive, on a +shying and snorting horse and, accompanied by the dogs yelping at her, +took her to the place where they were all to meet. The hounds had +killed two of the cubs and the borzois three. The huntsmen assembled +with their booty and their stories, and all came to look at the +wolf, which, with her broad-browed head hanging down and the bitten +stick between her jaws, gazed with great glassy eyes at this crowd +of dogs and men surrounding her. When she was touched, she jerked +her bound legs and looked wildly yet simply at everybody. Old Count +Rostov also rode up and touched the wolf. + +"Oh, what a formidable one!" said he. "A formidable one, eh?" he +asked Daniel, who was standing near. + +"Yes, your excellency," answered Daniel, quickly doffing his cap. + +The count remembered the wolf he had let slip and his encounter with +Daniel. + +"Ah, but you are a crusty fellow, friend!" said the count. + +For sole reply Daniel gave him a shy, childlike, meek, and amiable +smile. + +CHAPTER VI + +The old count went home, and Natasha and Petya promised to return +very soon, but as it was still early the hunt went farther. At +midday they put the hounds into a ravine thickly overgrown with +young trees. Nicholas standing in a fallow field could see all his +whips. + +Facing him lay a field of winter rye, there his own huntsman stood +alone in a hollow behind a hazel bush. The hounds had scarcely been +loosed before Nicholas heard one he knew, Voltorn, giving tongue at +intervals; other hounds joined in, now pausing and now again giving +tongue. A moment later he heard a cry from the wooded ravine that a +fox had been found, and the whole pack, joining together, rushed along +the ravine toward the ryefield and away from Nicholas. + +He saw the whips in their red caps galloping along the edge of the +ravine, he even saw the hounds, and was expecting a fox to show itself +at any moment on the ryefield opposite. + +The huntsman standing in the hollow moved and loosed his borzois, +and Nicholas saw a queer, short-legged red fox with a fine brush going +hard across the field. The borzois bore down on it.... Now they drew +close to the fox which began to dodge between the field in sharper and +sharper curves, trailing its brush, when suddenly a strange white +borzoi dashed in followed by a black one, and everything was in +confusion; the borzois formed a star-shaped figure, scarcely swaying +their bodies and with tails turned away from the center of the +group. Two huntsmen galloped up to the dogs; one in a red cap, the +other, a stranger, in a green coat. + +"What's this?" thought Nicholas. "Where's that huntsman from? He +is not 'Uncle's' man." + +The huntsmen got the fox, but stayed there a long time without +strapping it to the saddle. Their horses, bridled and with high +saddles, stood near them and there too the dogs were lying. The +huntsmen waved their arms and did something to the fox. Then from that +spot came the sound of a horn, with the signal agreed on in case of +a fight. + +"That's Ilagin's huntsman having a row with our Ivan," said +Nicholas' groom. + +Nicholas sent the man to call Natasha and Petya to him, and rode +at a footpace to the place where the whips were getting the hounds +together. Several of the field galloped to the spot where the fight +was going on. + +Nicholas dismounted, and with Natasha and Petya, who had ridden +up, stopped near the hounds, waiting to see how the matter would +end. Out of the bushes came the huntsman who had been fighting and +rode toward his young master, with the fox tied to his crupper. +While still at a distance he took off his cap and tried to speak +respectfully, but he was pale and breathless and his face was angry. +One of his eyes was black, but he probably was not even aware of it. + +"What has happened?" asked Nicholas. + +"A likely thing, killing a fox our dogs had hunted! And it was my +gray bitch that caught it! Go to law, indeed!... He snatches at the +fox! I gave him one with the fox. Here it is on my saddle! Do you want +a taste of this?..." said the huntsman, pointing to his dagger and +probably imagining himself still speaking to his foe. + +Nicholas, not stopping to talk to the man, asked his sister and +Petya to wait for him and rode to the spot where the enemy's, +Ilagin's, hunting party was. + +The victorious huntsman rode off to join the field, and there, +surrounded by inquiring sympathizers, recounted his exploits. + +The facts were that Ilagin, with whom the Rostovs had a quarrel +and were at law, hunted over places that belonged by custom to the +Rostovs, and had now, as if purposely, sent his men to the very +woods the Rostovs were hunting and let his man snatch a fox their dogs +had chased. + +Nicholas, though he had never seen Ilagin, with his usual absence of +moderation in judgment, hated him cordially from reports of his +arbitrariness and violence, and regarded him as his bitterest foe. +He rode in angry agitation toward him, firmly grasping his whip and +fully prepared to take the most resolute and desperate steps to punish +his enemy. + +Hardly had he passed an angle of the wood before a stout gentleman +in a beaver cap came riding toward him on a handsome raven-black +horse, accompanied by two hunt servants. + +Instead of an enemy, Nicholas found in Ilagin a stately and +courteous gentleman who was particularly anxious to make the young +count's acquaintance. Having ridden up to Nicholas, Ilagin raised +his beaver cap and said he much regretted what had occurred and +would have the man punished who had allowed himself to seize a fox +hunted by someone else's borzois. He hoped to become better acquainted +with the count and invited him to draw his covert. + +Natasha, afraid that her brother would do something dreadful, had +followed him in some excitement. Seeing the enemies exchanging +friendly greetings, she rode up to them. Ilagin lifted his beaver +cap still higher to Natasha and said, with a pleasant smile, that +the young countess resembled Diana in her passion for the chase as +well as in her beauty, of which he had heard much. + +To expiate his huntsman's offense, Ilagin pressed the Rostovs to +come to an upland of his about a mile away which he usually kept for +himself and which, he said, swarmed with hares. Nicholas agreed, and +the hunt, now doubled, moved on. + +The way to Iligin's upland was across the fields. The hunt +servants fell into line. The masters rode together. "Uncle," Rostov, +and Ilagin kept stealthily glancing at one another's dogs, trying +not to be observed by their companions and searching uneasily for +rivals to their own borzois. + +Rostov was particularly struck by the beauty of a small, +pure-bred, red-spotted bitch on Ilagin's leash, slender but with +muscles like steel, a delicate muzzle, and prominent black eyes. He +had heard of the swiftness of Ilagin's borzois, and in that +beautiful bitch saw a rival to his own Milka. + +In the middle of a sober conversation begun by Ilagin about the +year's harvest, Nicholas pointed to the red-spotted bitch. + +"A fine little bitch, that!" said he in a careless tone. "Is she +swift?" + +"That one? Yes, she's a good dog, gets what she's after," answered +Ilagin indifferently, of the red-spotted bitch Erza, for which, a year +before, he had given a neighbor three families of house serfs. "So +in your parts, too, the harvest is nothing to boast of, Count?" he +went on, continuing the conversation they had begun. And considering +it polite to return the young count's compliment, Ilagin looked at his +borzois and picked out Milka who attracted his attention by her +breadth. "That black-spotted one of yours is fine- well shaped!" +said he. + +"Yes, she's fast enough," replied Nicholas, and thought: "If only +a full-grown hare would cross the field now I'd show you what sort +of borzoi she is," and turning to his groom, he said he would give a +ruble to anyone who found a hare. + +"I don't understand," continued Ilagin, "how some sportsmen can be +so jealous about game and dogs. For myself, I can tell you, Count, I +enjoy riding in company such as this... what could be better?" (he +again raised his cap to Natasha) "but as for counting skins and what +one takes, I don't care about that." + +"Of course not!" + +"Or being upset because someone else's borzoi and not mine catches +something. All I care about is to enjoy seeing the chase, is it not +so, Count? For I consider that..." + +"A-tu!" came the long-drawn cry of one of the borzoi whippers-in, +who had halted. He stood on a knoll in the stubble, holding his whip +aloft, and again repeated his long-drawn cry, "A-tu!" (This call and +the uplifted whip meant that he saw a sitting hare.) + +"Ah, he has found one, I think," said Ilagin carelessly. "Yes, we +must ride up.... Shall we both course it?" answered Nicholas, seeing +in Erza and "Uncle's" red Rugay two rivals he had never yet had a +chance of pitting against his own borzois. "And suppose they outdo +my Milka at once!" he thought as he rode with "Uncle" and Ilagin +toward the hare. + +"A full-grown one?" asked Ilagin as he approached the whip who had +sighted the hare- and not without agitation he looked round and +whistled to Erza. + +"And you, Michael Nikanorovich?" he said, addressing "Uncle." + +The latter was riding with a sullen expression on his face. + +"How can I join in? Why, you've given a village for each of your +borzois! That's it, come on! Yours are worth thousands. Try yours +against one another, you two, and I'll look on!" + +"Rugay, hey, hey!" he shouted. "Rugayushka!" he added, involuntarily +by this diminutive expressing his affection and the hopes he placed on +this red borzoi. Natasha saw and felt the agitation the two elderly +men and her brother were trying to conceal, and was herself excited by +it. + +The huntsman stood halfway up the knoll holding up his whip and +the gentlefolk rode up to him at a footpace; the hounds that were +far off on the horizon turned away from the hare, and the whips, but +not the gentlefolk, also moved away. All were moving slowly and +sedately. + +"How is it pointing?" asked Nicholas, riding a hundred paces +toward the whip who had sighted the hare. + +But before the whip could reply, the hare, scenting the frost coming +next morning, was unable to rest and leaped up. The pack on leash +rushed downhill in full cry after the hare, and from all sides the +borzois that were not on leash darted after the hounds and the hare. +All the hunt, who had been moving slowly, shouted, "Stop!" calling +in the hounds, while the borzoi whips, with a cry of "A-tu!"galloped +across the field setting the borzois on the hare. The tranquil Ilagin, +Nicholas, Natasha, and "Uncle" flew, reckless of where and how they +went, seeing only the borzois and the hare and fearing only to lose +sight even for an instant of the chase. The hare they had started +was a strong and swift one. When he jumped up he did not run at +once, but pricked his ears listening to the shouting and trampling +that resounded from all sides at once. He took a dozen bounds, not +very quickly, letting the borzois gain on him, and, finally having +chosen his direction and realized his danger, laid back his ears and +rushed off headlong. He had been lying in the stubble, but in front of +him was the autumn sowing where the ground was soft. The two borzois +of the huntsman who had sighted him, having been the nearest, were the +first to see and pursue him, but they had not gone far before Ilagin's +red-spotted Erza passed them, got within a length, flew at the hare +with terrible swiftness aiming at his scut, and, thinking she had +seized him, rolled over like a ball. The hare arched his back and +bounded off yet more swiftly. From behind Erza rushed the +broad-haunched, black-spotted Milka and began rapidly gaining on the +hare. + +"Milashka, dear!" rose Nicholas' triumphant cry. It looked as if +Milka would immediately pounce on the hare, but she overtook him and +flew past. The hare had squatted. Again the beautiful Erza reached +him, but when close to the hare's scut paused as if measuring the +distance, so as not to make a mistake this time but seize his hind +leg. + +"Erza, darling! Ilagin wailed in a voice unlike his own. Erza did +not hearken to his appeal. At the very moment when she would have +seized her prey, the hare moved and darted along the balk between +the winter rye and the stubble. Again Erza and Milka were abreast, +running like a pair of carriage horses, and began to overtake the +hare, but it was easier for the hare to run on the balk and the +borzois did not overtake him so quickly. + +"Rugay, Rugayushka! That's it, come on!" came a third voice just +then, and "Uncle's" red borzoi, straining and curving its back, caught +up with the two foremost borzois, pushed ahead of them regardless of +the terrible strain, put on speed close to the hare, knocked it off +the balk onto the ryefield, again put on speed still more viciously, +sinking to his knees in the muddy field, and all one could see was +how, muddying his back, he rolled over with the hare. A ring of +borzois surrounded him. A moment later everyone had drawn up round the +crowd of dogs. Only the delighted "Uncle" dismounted, and cut off a +pad, shaking the hare for the blood to drip off, and anxiously +glancing round with restless eyes while his arms and legs twitched. He +spoke without himself knowing whom to or what about. "That's it, +come on! That's a dog!... There, it has beaten them all, the +thousand-ruble as well as the one-ruble borzois. That's it, come +on!" said he, panting and looking wrathfully around as if he were +abusing someone, as if they were all his enemies and had insulted him, +and only now had he at last succeeded in justifying himself. "There +are your thousand-ruble ones.... That's it, come on!..." + +"Rugay, here's a pad for you!" he said, throwing down the hare's +muddy pad. "You've deserved it, that's it, come on!" + +"She'd tired herself out, she'd run it down three times by herself," +said Nicholas, also not listening to anyone and regardless of +whether he were heard or not. + +"But what is there in running across it like that?" said Ilagin's +groom. + +"Once she had missed it and turned it away, any mongrel could take +it," Ilagin was saying at the same time, breathless from his gallop +and his excitement. At the same moment Natasha, without drawing +breath, screamed joyously, ecstatically, and so piercingly that it set +everyone's ear tingling. By that shriek she expressed what the +others expressed by all talking at once, and it was so strange that +she must herself have been ashamed of so wild a cry and everyone +else would have been amazed at it at any other time. "Uncle" himself +twisted up the hare, threw it neatly and smartly across his horse's +back as if by that gesture he meant to rebuke everybody, and, with +an air of not wishing to speak to anyone, mounted his bay and rode +off. The others all followed, dispirited and shamefaced, and only much +later were they able to regain their former affectation of +indifference. For a long time they continued to look at red Rugay who, +his arched back spattered with mud and clanking the ring of his leash, +walked along just behind "Uncle's" horse with the serene air of a +conqueror. + +"Well, I am like any other dog as long as it's not a question of +coursing. But when it is, then look out!" his appearance seem to +Nicholas to be saying. + +When, much later, "Uncle" rode up to Nicholas and began talking to +him, he felt flattered that, after what had happened, "Uncle" +deigned to speak to him. + +CHAPTER VII + +Toward evening Ilagin took leave of Nicholas, who found that they +were so far from home that he accepted "Uncle's" offer that the +hunting party should spend the night in his little village of +Mikhaylovna. + +"And if you put up at my house that will be better still. That's it, +come on!" said "Uncle." "You see it's damp weather, and you could +rest, and the little countess could be driven home in a trap." + +"Uncle's" offer was accepted. A huntsman was sent to Otradnoe for +a trap, while Nicholas rode with Natasha and Petya to "Uncle's" house. + +Some five male domestic serfs, big and little, rushed out to the +front porch to meet their master. A score of women serfs, old and +young, as well as children, popped out from the back entrance to +have a look at the hunters who were arriving. The presence of Natasha- +a woman, a lady, and on horseback- raised the curiosity of the serfs +to such a degree that many of them came up to her, stared her in the +face, and unabashed by her presence made remarks about her as though +she were some prodigy on show and not a human being able to hear or +understand what was said about her. + +"Arinka! Look, she sits sideways! There she sits and her skirt +dangles.... See, she's got a little hunting horn!" + +"Goodness gracious! See her knife?..." + +"Isn't she a Tartar!" + +"How is it you didn't go head over heels?" asked the boldest of all, +addressing Natasha directly. + +"Uncle" dismounted at the porch of his little wooden house which +stood in the midst of an overgrown garden and, after a glance at his +retainers, shouted authoritatively that the superfluous ones should +take themselves off and that all necessary preparations should be made +to receive the guests and the visitors. + +The serfs all dispersed. "Uncle" lifted Natasha off her horse and +taking her hand led her up the rickety wooden steps of the porch. +The house, with its bare, unplastered log walls, was not overclean- it +did not seem that those living in it aimed at keeping it spotless- but +neither was it noticeably neglected. In the entry there was a smell of +fresh apples, and wolf and fox skins hung about. + +"Uncle" led the visitors through the anteroom into a small hall with +a folding table and red chairs, then into the drawing room with a +round birchwood table and a sofa, and finally into his private room +where there was a tattered sofa, a worn carpet, and portraits of +Suvorov, of the host's father and mother, and of himself in military +uniform. The study smelt strongly of tobacco and dogs. "Uncle" asked +his visitors to sit down and make themselves at home, and then went +out of the room. Rugay, his back still muddy, came into the room and +lay down on the sofa, cleaning himself with his tongue and teeth. +Leading from the study was a passage in which a partition with +ragged curtains could be seen. From behind this came women's +laughter and whispers. Natasha, Nicholas, and Petya took off their +wraps and sat down on the sofa. Petya, leaning on his elbow, fell +asleep at once. Natasha and Nicholas were silent. Their faces +glowed, they were hungry and very cheerful. They looked at one another +(now that the hunt was over and they were in the house, Nicholas no +longer considered it necessary to show his manly superiority over +his sister), Natasha gave him a wink, and neither refrained long +from bursting into a peal of ringing laughter even before they had a +pretext ready to account for it. + +After a while "Uncle" came in, in a Cossack coat, blue trousers, and +small top boots. And Natasha felt that this costume, the very one +she had regarded with surprise and amusement at Otradnoe, was just the +right thing and not at all worse than a swallow-tail or frock coat. +"Uncle" too was in high spirits and far from being offended by the +brother's and sister's laughter (it could never enter his head that +they might be laughing at his way of life) he himself joined in the +merriment. + +"That's right, young countess, that's it, come on! I never saw +anyone like her!" said he, offering Nicholas a pipe with a long stem +and, with a practiced motion of three fingers, taking down another +that had been cut short. "She's ridden all day like a man, and is as +fresh as ever! + +Soon after "Uncle's" reappearance the door was opened, evidently +from the sound by a barefooted girl, and a stout, rosy, good-looking +woman of about forty, with a double chin and full red lips, entered +carrying a large loaded tray. With hospitable dignity and cordiality +in her glance and in every motion, she looked at the visitors and, +with a pleasant smile, bowed respectfully. In spite of her exceptional +stoutness, which caused her to protrude her chest and stomach and +throw back her head, this woman (who was "Uncle's" housekeeper) trod +very lightly. She went to the table, set down the tray, and with her +plump white hands deftly took from it the bottles and various hors +d'oeuvres and dishes and arranged them on the table. When she had +finished, she stepped aside and stopped at the door with a smile on +her face. "Here I am. I am she! Now do you understand 'Uncle'?" her +expression said to Rostov. How could one help understanding? Not +only Nicholas, but even Natasha understood the meaning of his puckered +brow and the happy complacent smile that slightly puckered his lips +when Anisya Fedorovna entered. On the tray was a bottle of herb +wine, different kinds of vodka, pickled mushrooms, rye cakes made with +buttermilk, honey in the comb, still mead and sparkling mead, +apples, nuts (raw and roasted), and nut-and-honey sweets. Afterwards +she brought a freshly roasted chicken, ham, preserves made with honey, +and preserves made with sugar. + +All this was the fruit of Anisya Fedorovna's housekeeping, +gathered and prepared by her. The smell and taste of it all had a +smack of Anisya Fedorovna herself: a savor of juiciness, +cleanliness, whiteness, and pleasant smiles. + +"Take this, little Lady-Countess!" she kept saying, as she offered +Natasha first one thing and then another. + +Natasha ate of everything and thought she had never seen or eaten +such buttermilk cakes, such aromatic jam, such honey-and-nut sweets, +or such a chicken anywhere. Anisya Fedorovna left the room. + +After supper, over their cherry brandy, Rostov and "Uncle" talked of +past and future hunts, of Rugay and Ilagin's dogs, while Natasha sat +upright on the sofa and listened with sparkling eyes. She tried +several times to wake Petya that he might eat something, but he only +muttered incoherent words without waking up. Natasha felt so +lighthearted and happy in these novel surroundings that she only +feared the trap would come for her too soon. After a casual pause, +such as often occurs when receiving friends for the first time in +one's own house, "Uncle," answering a thought that was in his +visitors' mind, said: + +"This, you see, is how I am finishing my days... Death will come. +That's it, come on! Nothing will remain. Then why harm anyone?" + +"Uncle's" face was very significant and even handsome as he said +this. Involuntarily Rostov recalled all the good he had heard about +him from his father and the neighbors. Throughout the whole province +"Uncle" had the reputation of being the most honorable and +disinterested of cranks. They called him in to decide family disputes, +chose him as executor, confided secrets to him, elected him to be a +justice and to other posts; but he always persistently refused +public appointments, passing the autumn and spring in the fields on +his bay gelding, sitting at home in winter, and lying in his overgrown +garden in summer. + +"Why don't you enter the service, Uncle?" + +"I did once, but gave it up. I am not fit for it. That's it, come +on! I can't make head or tail of it. That's for you- I haven't +brains enough. Now, hunting is another matter- that's it, come on! +Open the door, there!" he shouted. "Why have you shut it?" + +The door at the end of the passage led to the huntsmen's room, as +they called the room for the hunt servants. + +There was a rapid patter of bare feet, and an unseen hand opened the +door into the huntsmen's room, from which came the clear sounds of a +balalayka on which someone, who was evidently a master of the art, was +playing. Natasha had been listening to those strains for some time and +now went out into the passage to hear better. + +"That's Mitka, my coachman.... I have got him a good balalayka. +I'm fond of it," said "Uncle." + +It was the custom for Mitka to play the balalayka in the +huntsmen's room when "Uncle" returned from the chase. "Uncle" was fond +of such music. + +"How good! Really very good!" said Nicholas with some +unintentional superciliousness, as if ashamed to confess that the +sounds pleased him very much. + +"Very good?" said Natasha reproachfully, noticing her brother's +tone. "Not 'very good' it's simply delicious!" + +Just as "Uncle's" pickled mushrooms, honey, and cherry brandy had +seemed to her the best in the world, so also that song, at that +moment, seemed to her the acme of musical delight. + +"More, please, more!" cried Natasha at the door as soon as the +balalayka ceased. Mitka tuned up afresh, and recommenced thrumming the +balalayka to the air of My Lady, with trills and variations. "Uncle" +sat listening, slightly smiling, with his head on one side. The air +was repeated a hundred times. The balalayka was retuned several +times and the same notes were thrummed again, but the listeners did +not grow weary of it and wished to hear it again and again. Anisya +Fedorovna came in and leaned her portly person against the doorpost. + +"You like listening?" she said to Natasha, with a smile extremely +like "Uncle's." "That's a good player of ours," she added. + +"He doesn't play that part right!" said "Uncle" suddenly, with an +energetic gesture. "Here he ought to burst out- that's it, come on!- +ought to burst out." + +"Do you play then?" asked Natasha. + +"Uncle" did not answer, but smiled. + +"Anisya, go and see if the strings of my guitar are all right. I +haven't touched it for a long time. That's it- come on! I've given +it up." + +Anisya Fedorovna, with her light step, willingly went to fulfill her +errand and brought back the guitar. + +Without looking at anyone, "Uncle" blew the dust off it and, tapping +the case with his bony fingers, tuned the guitar and settled himself +in his armchair. He took the guitar a little above the fingerboard, +arching his left elbow with a somewhat theatrical gesture, and, with a +wink at Anisya Fedorovna, struck a single chord, pure and sonorous, +and then quietly, smoothly, and confidently began playing in very slow +time, not My Lady, but the well-known song: Came a maiden down the +street. The tune, played with precision and in exact time, began to +thrill in the hearts of Nicholas and Natasha, arousing in them the +same kind of sober mirth as radiated from Anisya Fedorovna's whole +being. Anisya Fedorovna flushed, and drawing her kerchief over her +face went laughing out of the room. "Uncle" continued to play +correctly, carefully, with energetic firmness, looking with a +changed and inspired expression at the spot where Anisya Fedorovna had +just stood. Something seemed to be laughing a little on one side of +his face under his gray mustaches, especially as the song grew brisker +and the time quicker and when, here and there, as he ran his fingers +over the strings, something seemed to snap. + +"Lovely, lovely! Go on, Uncle, go on!" shouted Natasha as soon as he +had finished. She jumped up and hugged and kissed him. "Nicholas, +Nicholas!" she said, turning to her brother, as if asking him: "What +is it moves me so?" + +Nicholas too was greatly pleased by "Uncle's" playing, and "Uncle" +played the piece over again. Anisya Fedorovna's smiling face +reappeared in the doorway and behind hers other faces... + +_1 Fetching water clear and sweet,<br> +Stop, dear maiden, I entreat- + +played "Uncle" once more, running his fingers skillfully over the +strings, and then he stopped short and jerked his shoulders. + +"Go on, Uncle dear," Natasha wailed in an imploring tone as if her +life depended on it. + +"Uncle" rose, and it was as if there were two men in him: one of +them smiled seriously at the merry fellow, while the merry fellow +struck a naive and precise attitude preparatory to a folk dance. + +"Now then, niece!" he exclaimed, waving to Natasha the hand that had +just struck a chord. + +Natasha threw off the shawl from her shoulders, ran forward to +face "Uncle," and setting her arms akimbo also made a motion with +her shoulders and struck an attitude. + +Where, how, and when had this young countess, educated by an emigree +French governess, imbibed from the Russian air she breathed that +spirit and obtained that manner which the pas de chale~^ would, one +would have supposed, long ago have effaced? But the spirit and the +movements were those inimitable and unteachable Russian ones that +"Uncle" had expected of her. As soon as she had struck her pose, and +smiled triumphantly, proudly, and with sly merriment, the fear that +had at first seized Nicholas and the others that she might not do +the right thing was at an end, and they were already admiring her. + +^~ The French shawl dance. + +She did the right thing with such precision, such complete +precision, that Anisya Fedorovna, who had at once handed her the +handkerchief she needed for the dance, had tears in her eyes, though +she laughed as she watched this slim, graceful countess, reared in +silks and velvets and so different from herself, who yet was able to +understand all that was in Anisya and in Anisya's father and mother +and aunt, and in every Russian man and woman. + +"Well, little countess; that's it- come on!" cried "Uncle," with a +joyous laugh, having finished the dance. "Well done, niece! Now a fine +young fellow must be found as husband for you. That's it- come on!" + +"He's chosen already," said Nicholas smiling. + +"Oh?" said "Uncle" in surprise, looking inquiringly at Natasha, +who nodded her head with a happy smile. + +"And such a one!" she said. But as soon as she had said it a new +train of thoughts and feelings arose in her. "What did Nicholas' smile +mean when he said 'chosen already'? Is he glad of it or not? It is +as if he thought my Bolkonski would not approve of or understand our +gaiety. But he would understand it all. Where is he now?" she thought, +and her face suddenly became serious. But this lasted only a second. +"Don't dare to think about it," she said to herself, and sat down +again smilingly beside "Uncle," begging him to play something more. + +"Uncle" played another song and a valse; then after a pause he +cleared his throat and sang his favorite hunting song: + +_1 As 'twas growing dark last night<br> +Fell the snow so soft and light... + +"Uncle" sang as peasants sing, with full and naive conviction that +the whole meaning of a song lies in the words and that the tune +comes of itself, and that apart from the words there is no tune, which +exists only to give measure to the words. As a result of this the +unconsidered tune, like the song of a bird, was extraordinarily +good. Natasha was in ecstasies over "Uncle's" singing. She resolved to +give up learning the harp and to play only the guitar. She asked +"Uncle" for his guitar and at once found the chords of the song. + +After nine o'clock two traps and three mounted men, who had been +sent to look for them, arrived to fetch Natasha and Petya. The count +and countess did not know where they were and were very anxious, +said one of the men. + +Petya was carried out like a log and laid in the larger of the two +traps. Natasha and Nicholas got into the other. "Uncle" wrapped +Natasha up warmly and took leave of her with quite a new tenderness. +He accompanied them on foot as far as the bridge that could not be +crossed, so that they had to go round by the ford, and he sent +huntsmen to ride in front with lanterns. + +"Good-by, dear niece," his voice called out of the darkness- not the +voice Natasha had known previously, but the one that had sung As 'twas +growing dark last night. + +In the village through which they passed there were red lights and a +cheerful smell of smoke. + +"What a darling Uncle is!" said Natasha, when they had come out onto +the highroad. + +"Yes," returned Nicholas. "You're not cold?" + +"No. I'm quite, quite all right. I feel so comfortable!" answered +Natasha, almost perplexed by her feelings. They remained silent a long +while. The night was dark and damp. They could not see the horses, but +only heard them splashing through the unseen mud. + +What was passing in that receptive childlike soul that so eagerly +caught and assimilated all the diverse impressions of life? How did +they all find place in her? But she was very happy. As they were +nearing home she suddenly struck up the air of As 'twas growing dark +last night- the tune of which she had all the way been trying to get +and had at last caught. + +"Got it?" said Nicholas. + +"What were you thinking about just now, Nicholas?" inquired Natasha. + +They were fond of asking one another that question. + +"I?" said Nicholas, trying to remember. "Well, you see, first I +thought that Rugay, the red hound, was like Uncle, and that if he were +a man he would always keep Uncle near him, if not for his riding, then +for his manner. What a good fellow Uncle is! Don't you think so?... +Well, and you?" + +"I? Wait a bit, wait.... Yes, first I thought that we are driving +along and imagining that we are going home, but that heaven knows +where we are really going in the darkness, and that we shall arrive +and suddenly find that we are not in Otradnoe, but in Fairyland. And +then I thought... No, nothing else." + +"I know, I expect you thought of him," said Nicholas, smiling as +Natasha knew by the sound of his voice. + +"No," said Natasha, though she had in reality been thinking about +Prince Andrew at the same time as of the rest, and of how he would +have liked "Uncle." "And then I was saying to myself all the way, 'How +well Anisya carried herself, how well!'" And Nicholas heard her +spontaneous, happy, ringing laughter. "And do you know," she +suddenly said, "I know that I shall never again be as happy and +tranquil as I am now." + +"Rubbish, nonsense, humbug!" exclaimed Nicholas, and he thought: +"How charming this Natasha of mine is! I have no other friend like her +and never shall have. Why should she marry? We might always drive +about together! + +"What a darling this Nicholas of mine is!" thought Natasha. + +"Ah, there are still lights in the drawingroom!" she said, +pointing to the windows of the house that gleamed invitingly in the +moist velvety darkness of the night. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Count Ilya Rostov had resigned the position of Marshal of the +Nobility because it involved him in too much expense, but still his +affairs did not improve. Natasha and Nicholas often noticed their +parents conferring together anxiously and privately and heard +suggestions of selling the fine ancestral Rostov house and estate near +Moscow. It was not necessary to entertain so freely as when the +count had been Marshal, and life at Otradnoe was quieter than in +former years, but still the enormous house and its lodges were full of +people and more than twenty sat down to table every day. These were +all their own people who had settled down in the house almost as +members of the family, or persons who were, it seemed, obliged to live +in the count's house. Such were Dimmler the musician and his wife, +Vogel the dancing master and his family, Belova, an old maiden lady, +an inmate of the house, and many others such as Petya's tutors, the +girls' former governess, and other people who simply found it +preferable and more advantageous to live in the count's house than +at home. They had not as many visitors as before, but the old habits +of life without which the count and countess could not conceive of +existence remained unchanged. There was still the hunting +establishment which Nicholas had even enlarged, the same fifty +horses and fifteen grooms in the stables, the same expensive +presents and dinner parties to the whole district on name days; +there were still the count's games of whist and boston, at which- +spreading out his cards so that everybody could see them- he let +himself be plundered of hundreds of rubles every day by his neighbors, +who looked upon an opportunity to play a rubber with Count Rostov as a +most profitable source of income. + +The count moved in his affairs as in a huge net, trying not to +believe that he was entangled but becoming more and more so at every +step, and feeling too feeble to break the meshes or to set to work +carefully and patiently to disentangle them. The countess, with her +loving heart, felt that her children were being ruined, that it was +not the count's fault for he could not help being what he was- that +(though he tried to hide it) he himself suffered from the +consciousness of his own and his children's ruin, and she tried to +find means of remedying the position. From her feminine point of +view she could see only one solution, namely, for Nicholas to marry +a rich heiress. She felt this to be their last hope and that if +Nicholas refused the match she had found for him, she would have to +abandon the hope of ever getting matters right. This match was with +Julie Karagina, the daughter of excellent and virtuous parents, a girl +the Rostovs had known from childhood, and who had now become a wealthy +heiress through the death of the last of her brothers. + +The countess had written direct to Julie's mother in Moscow +suggesting a marriage between their children and had received a +favorable answer from her. Karagina had replied that for her part +she was agreeable, and everything depend on her daughter's +inclination. She invited Nicholas to come to Moscow. + +Several times the countess, with tears in her eyes, told her son +that now both her daughters were settled, her only wish was to see him +married. She said she could lie down in her grave peacefully if that +were accomplished. Then she told him that she knew of a splendid +girl and tried to discover what he thought about marriage. + +At other times she praised Julie to him and advised him to go to +Moscow during the holidays to amuse himself. Nicholas guessed what his +mother's remarks were leading to and during one of these conversations +induced her to speak quite frankly. She told him that her only hope of +getting their affairs disentangled now lay in his marrying Julie +Karagina. + +"But, Mamma, suppose I loved a girl who has no fortune, would you +expect me to sacrifice my feelings and my honor for the sake of +money?" he asked his mother, not realizing the cruelty of his question +and only wishing to show his noble-mindedness. + +"No, you have not understood me," said his mother, not knowing how +to justify herself. "You have not understood me, Nikolenka. It is your +happiness I wish for," she added, feeling that she was telling an +untruth and was becoming entangled. She began to cry. + +"Mamma, don't cry! Only tell me that you wish it, and you know I +will give my life, anything, to put you at ease," said Nicholas. "I +would sacrifice anything for you- even my feelings." + +But the countess did not want the question put like that: she did +not want a sacrifice from her son, she herself wished to make a +sacrifice for him. + +"No, you have not understood me, don't let us talk about it," she +replied, wiping away her tears. + +"Maybe I do love a poor girl," said Nicholas to himself. "Am I to +sacrifice my feelings and my honor for money? I wonder how Mamma could +speak so to me. Because Sonya is poor I must not love her," he +thought, "must not respond to her faithful, devoted love? Yet I should +certainly be happier with her than with some doll-like Julie. I can +always sacrifice my feelings for my family's welfare," he said to +himself, "but I can't coerce my feelings. If I love Sonya, that +feeling is for me stronger and higher than all else." + +Nicholas did not go to Moscow, and the countess did not renew the +conversation with him about marriage. She saw with sorrow, and +sometimes with exasperation, symptoms of a growing attachment +between her son and the portionless Sonya. Though she blamed herself +for it, she could not refrain from grumbling at and worrying Sonya, +often pulling her up without reason, addressing her stiffly as "my +dear," and using the formal "you" instead of the intimate "thou" in +speaking to her. The kindhearted countess was the more vexed with +Sonya because that poor, dark-eyed niece of hers was so meek, so kind, +so devotedly grateful to her benefactors, and so faithfully, +unchangingly, and unselfishly in love with Nicholas, that there were +no grounds for finding fault with her. + +Nicholas was spending the last of his leave at home. A fourth letter +had come from Prince Andrew, from Rome, in which he wrote that he +would have been on his way back to Russia long ago had not his wound +unexpectedly reopened in the warm climate, which obliged him to +defer his return till the beginning of the new year. Natasha was still +as much in love with her betrothed, found the same comfort in that +love, and was still as ready to throw herself into all the pleasures +of life as before; but at the end of the fourth month of their +separation she began to have fits of depression which she could not +master. She felt sorry for herself: sorry that she was being wasted +all this time and of no use to anyone- while she felt herself so +capable of loving and being loved. + +Things were not cheerful in the Rostovs' home. + +CHAPTER IX + +Christmas came and except for the ceremonial Mass, the solemn and +wearisome Christmas congratulations from neighbors and servants, and +the new dresses everyone put on, there were no special festivities, +though the calm frost of twenty degrees Reaumur, the dazzling sunshine +by day, and the starlight of the winter nights seemed to call for some +special celebration of the season. + +On the third day of Christmas week, after the midday dinner, all the +inmates of the house dispersed to various rooms. It was the dullest +time of the day. Nicholas, who had been visiting some neighbors that +morning, was asleep on the sitting-room sofa. The old count was +resting in his study. Sonya sat in the drawing room at the round +table, copying a design for embroidery. The countess was playing +patience. Nastasya Ivanovna the buffoon sat with a sad face at the +window with two old ladies. Natasha came into the room, went up to +Sonya, glanced at what she was doing, and then went up to her mother +and stood without speaking. + +"Why are you wandering about like an outcast?" asked her mother. +"What do you want?" + +"Him... I want him... now, this minute! I want him!" said Natasha, +with glittering eyes and no sign of a smile. + +The countess lifted her head and looked attentively at her daughter. + +"Don't look at me, Mamma! Don't look; I shall cry directly." + +"Sit down with me a little," said the countess. + +"Mamma, I want him. Why should I be wasted like this, Mamma?" + +Her voice broke, tears gushed from her eyes, and she turned +quickly to hide them and left the room. + +She passed into the sitting room, stood there thinking awhile, and +then went into the maids' room. There an old maidservant was grumbling +at a young girl who stood panting, having just run in through the cold +from the serfs' quarters. + +"Stop playing- there's a time for everything," said the old woman. + +"Let her alone, Kondratevna," said Natasha. "Go, Mavrushka, go." + +Having released Mavrushka, Natasha crossed the dancing hall and went +to the vestibule. There an old footman and two young ones were playing +cards. They broke off and rose as she entered. + +"What can I do with them?" thought Natasha. + +"Oh, Nikita, please go... where can I send him?... Yes, go to the +yard and fetch a fowl, please, a cock, and you, Misha, bring me some +oats." + +"Just a few oats?" said Misha, cheerfully and readily. + +"Go, go quickly," the old man urged him. + +"And you, Theodore, get me a piece of chalk." + +On her way past the butler's pantry she told them to set a +samovar, though it was not at all the time for tea. + +Foka, the butler, was the most ill-tempered person in the house. +Natasha liked to test her power over him. He distrusted the order +and asked whether the samovar was really wanted. + +"Oh dear, what a young lady!" said Foka, pretending to frown at +Natasha. + +No one in the house sent people about or gave them as much trouble +as Natasha did. She could not see people unconcernedly, but had to +send them on some errand. She seemed to be trying whether any of +them would get angry or sulky with her; but the serfs fulfilled no +one's orders so readily as they did hers. "What can I do, where can +I go?" thought she, as she went slowly along the passage. + +"Nastasya Ivanovna, what sort of children shall I have?" she asked +the buffoon, who was coming toward her in a woman's jacket. + +"Why, fleas, crickets, grasshoppers," answered the buffoon. + +"O Lord, O Lord, it's always the same! Oh, where am I to go? What am +I to do with myself?" And tapping with her heels, she ran quickly +upstairs to see Vogel and his wife who lived on the upper story. + +Two governesses were sitting with the Vogels at a table, on which +were plates of raisins, walnuts, and almonds. The governesses were +discussing whether it was cheaper to live in Moscow or Odessa. Natasha +sat down, listened to their talk with a serious and thoughtful air, +and then got up again. + +"The island of Madagascar," she said, "Ma-da-gas-car," she repeated, +articulating each syllable distinctly, and, not replying to Madame +Schoss who asked her what she was saying, she went out of the room. + +Her brother Petya was upstairs too; with the man in attendance on +him he was preparing fireworks to let off that night. + +"Petya! Petya!" she called to him. "Carry me downstairs." + +Petya ran up and offered her his back. She jumped on it, putting her +arms round his neck, and he pranced along with her. + +"No, don't... the island of Madagascar!" she said, and jumping off +his back she went downstairs. + +Having as it were reviewed her kingdom, tested her power, and made +sure that everyone was submissive, but that all the same it was +dull, Natasha betook herself to the ballroom, picked up her guitar, +sat down in a dark corner behind a bookcase, and began to run her +fingers over the strings in the bass, picking out a passage she +recalled from an opera she had heard in Petersburg with Prince Andrew. +What she drew from the guitar would have had no meaning for other +listeners, but in her imagination a whole series of reminiscences +arose from those sounds. She sat behind the bookcase with her eyes +fixed on a streak of light escaping from the pantry door and +listened to herself and pondered. She was in a mood for brooding on +the past. + +Sonya passed to the pantry with a glass in her hand. Natasha glanced +at her and at the crack in the pantry door, and it seemed to her +that she remembered the light failing through that crack once before +and Sonya passing with a glass in her hand. "Yes it was exactly the +same," thought Natasha. + +"Sonya, what is this?" she cried, twanging a thick string. + +"Oh, you are there!" said Sonya with a start, and came near and +listened. "I don't know. A storm?" she ventured timidly, afraid of +being wrong. + +"There! That's just how she started and just how she came up smiling +timidly when all this happened before," thought Natasha, "and in +just the same way I thought there was something lacking in her." + +"No, it's the chorus from The Water-Carrier, listen! " and Natasha +sang the air of the chorus so that Sonya should catch it. "Where +were you going?" she asked. + +"To change the water in this glass. I am just finishing the design." + +"You always find something to do, but I can't," said Natasha. "And +where's Nicholas?" + +"Asleep, I think." + +"Sonya, go and wake him," said Natasha. "Tell him I want him to come +and sing." + +She sat awhile, wondering what the meaning of it all having happened +before could be, and without solving this problem, or at all +regretting not having done so, she again passed in fancy to the time +when she was with him and he was looking at her with a lover's eyes. + +"Oh, if only he would come quicker! I am so afraid it will never be! +And, worst of all, I am growing old- that's the thing! There won't +then be in me what there is now. But perhaps he'll come today, will +come immediately. Perhaps he has come and is sitting in the drawing +room. Perhaps he came yesterday and I have forgotten it." She rose, +put down the guitar, and went to the drawing room. + +All the domestic circle, tutors, governesses, and guests, were +already at the tea table. The servants stood round the table- but +Prince Andrew was not there and life was going on as before. + +"Ah, here she is!" said the old count, when he saw Natasha enter. +"Well, sit down by me." But Natasha stayed by her mother and glanced +round as if looking for something. + +"Mamma!" she muttered, "give him to me, give him, Mamma, quickly, +quickly!" and she again had difficulty in repressing her sobs. + +She sat down at the table and listened to the conversation between +the elders and Nicholas, who had also come to the table. "My God, my +God! The same faces, the same talk, Papa holding his cup and blowing +in the same way!" thought Natasha, feeling with horror a sense of +repulsion rising up in her for the whole household, because they +were always the same. + +After tea, Nicholas, Sonya, and Natasha went to the sitting room, to +their favorite corner where their most intimate talks always began. + +CHAPTER X + +Does it ever happen to you," said Natasha to her brother, when +they settled down in the sitting room, "does it ever happen to you +to feel as if there were nothing more to come- nothing; that +everything good is past? And to feel not exactly dull, but sad?" + +"I should think so!" he replied. "I have felt like that when +everything was all right and everyone was cheerful. The thought has +come into my mind that I was already tired of it all, and that we must +all die. Once in the regiment I had not gone to some merrymaking where +there was music... and suddenly I felt so depressed..." + +"Oh yes, I know, I know, I know!" Natasha interrupted him. "When I +was quite little that used to be so with me. Do you remember when I +was punished once about some plums? You were all dancing, and I sat +sobbing in the schoolroom? I shall never forget it: I felt sad and +sorry for everyone, for myself, and for everyone. And I was +innocent- that was the chief thing," said Natasha. "Do you remember?" + +"I remember," answered Nicholas. "I remember that I came to you +afterwards and wanted to comfort you, but do you know, I felt +ashamed to. We were terribly absurd. I had a funny doll then and +wanted to give it to you. Do you remember?" + +"And do you remember," Natasha asked with a pensive smile, "how +once, long, long ago, when we were quite little, Uncle called us +into the study- that was in the old house- and it was dark- we went in +and suddenly there stood..." + +"A Negro," chimed in Nicholas with a smile of delight. "Of course +I remember. Even now I don't know whether there really was a Negro, or +if we only dreamed it or were told about him." + +"He was gray, you remember, and had white teeth, and stood and +looked at us..." + +"Sonya, do you remember?" asked Nicholas. + +"Yes, yes, I do remember something too," Sonya answered timidly. + +"You know I have asked Papa and Mamma about that Negro," said +Natasha, "and they say there was no Negro at all. But you see, you +remember!" + +"Of course I do, I remember his teeth as if I had just seen them." + +"How strange it is! It's as if it were a dream! I like that." + +"And do you remember how we rolled hard-boiled eggs in the ballroom, +and suddenly two old women began spinning round on the carpet? Was +that real or not? Do you remember what fun it was?" + +"Yes, and you remember how Papa in his blue overcoat fired a gun +in the porch?" + +So they went through their memories, smiling with pleasure: not +the sad memories of old age, but poetic, youthful ones- those +impressions of one's most distant past in which dreams and realities +blend- and they laughed with quiet enjoyment. + +Sonya, as always, did not quite keep pace with them, though they +shared the same reminiscences. + +Much that they remembered had slipped from her mind, and what she +recalled did not arouse the same poetic feeling as they experienced. +She simply enjoyed their pleasure and tried to fit in with it. + +She only really took part when they recalled Sonya's first +arrival. She told them how afraid she had been of Nicholas because +he had on a corded jacket and her nurse had told her that she, too, +would be sewn up with cords. + +"And I remember their telling me that you had been born under a +cabbage," said Natasha, and I remember that I dared not disbelieve +it then, but knew that it was not true, and I felt so uncomfortable." + +While they were talking a maid thrust her head in at the other +door of the sitting room. + +"They have brought the cock, Miss," she said in a whisper. + +"It isn't wanted, Petya. Tell them to take it away," replied +Natasha. + +In the middle of their talk in the sitting room, Dimmler came in and +went up to the harp that stood there in a corner. He took off its +cloth covering, and the harp gave out a jarring sound. + +"Mr. Dimmler, please play my favorite nocturne by Field," came the +old countess' voice from the drawing room. + +Dimmler struck a chord and, turning to Natasha, Nicholas, and Sonya, +remarked: "How quiet you young people are!" + +"Yes, we're philosophizing," said Natasha, glancing round for a +moment and then continuing the conversation. They were now +discussing dreams. + +Dimmler began to play; Natasha went on tiptoe noiselessly to the +table, took up a candle, carried it out, and returned, seating herself +quietly in her former place. It was dark in the room especially +where they were sitting on the sofa, but through the big windows the +silvery light of the full moon fell on the floor. Dimmler had finished +the piece but still sat softly running his fingers over the strings, +evidently uncertain whether to stop or to play something else. + +"Do you know," said Natasha in a whisper, moving closer to +Nicholas and Sonya, "that when one goes on and on recalling +memories, one at last begins to remember what happened before one +was in the world..." + +"That is metempsychosis," said Sonya, who had always learned well, +and remembered everything. "The Egyptians believed that our souls have +lived in animals, and will go back into animals again." + +"No, I don't believe we ever were in animals," said Natasha, still +in a whisper though the music had ceased. "But I am certain that we +were angels somewhere there, and have been here, and that is why we +remember...." + +"May I join you?" said Dimmler who had come up quietly, and he sat +down by them. + +"If we have been angels, why have we fallen lower?" said Nicholas. +"No, that can't be!" + +"Not lower, who said we were lower?... How do I know what I was +before?" Natasha rejoined with conviction. "The soul is immortal- well +then, if I shall always live I must have lived before, lived for a +whole eternity." + +"Yes, but it is hard for us to imagine eternity," remarked +Dimmler, who had joined the young folk with a mildly condescending +smile but now spoke as quietly and seriously as they. + +"Why is it hard to imagine eternity?" said Natasha. "It is now +today, and it will be tomorrow, and always; and there was yesterday, +and the day before..." + +"Natasha! Now it's your turn. Sing me something," they heard the +countess say. "Why are you sitting there like conspirators?" + +"Mamma, I don't at all want to," replied Natasha, but all the same +she rose. + +None of them, not even the middle-aged Dimmler, wanted to break +off their conversation and quit that corner in the sitting room, but +Natasha got up and Nicholas sat down at the clavichord. Standing as +usual in the middle of the hall and choosing the place where the +resonance was best, Natasha began to sing her mother's favorite song. + +She had said she did not want to sing, but it was long since she had +sung, and long before she again sang, as she did that evening. The +count, from his study where he was talking to Mitenka, heard her +and, like a schoolboy in a hurry to run out to play, blundered in +his talk while giving orders to the steward, and at last stopped, +while Mitenka stood in front of him also listening and smiling. +Nicholas did not take his eyes off his sister and drew breath in +time with her. Sonya, as she listened, thought of the immense +difference there was between herself and her friend, and how +impossible it was for her to be anything like as bewitching as her +cousin. The old countess sat with a blissful yet sad smile and with +tears in her eyes, occasionally shaking her head. She thought of +Natasha and of her own youth, and of how there was something unnatural +and dreadful in this impending marriage of Natasha and Prince Andrew. + +Dimmler, who had seated himself beside the countess, listened with +closed eyes. + +"Ah, Countess," he said at last, "that's a European talent, she +has nothing to learn- what softness, tenderness, and strength...." + +"Ah, how afraid I am for her, how afraid I am!" said the countess, +not realizing to whom she was speaking. Her maternal instinct told her +that Natasha had too much of something, and that because of this she +would not be happy. Before Natasha had finished singing, +fourteen-year-old Petya rushed in delightedly, to say that some +mummers had arrived. + +Natasha stopped abruptly. + +"Idiot!" she screamed at her brother and, running to a chair, +threw herself on it, sobbing so violently that she could not stop +for a long time. + +"It's nothing, Mamma, really it's nothing; only Petya startled +me," she said, trying to smile, but her tears still flowed and sobs +still choked her. + +The mummers (some of the house serfs) dressed up as bears, Turks, +innkeepers, and ladies- frightening and funny- bringing in with them +the cold from outside and a feeling of gaiety, crowded, at first +timidly, into the anteroom, then hiding behind one another they pushed +into the ballroom where, shyly at first and then more and more merrily +and heartily, they started singing, dancing, and playing Christmas +games. The countess, when she had identified them and laughed at their +costumes, went into the drawing room. The count sat in the ballroom, +smiling radiantly and applauding the players. The young people had +disappeared. + +Half an hour later there appeared among the other mummers in the +ballroom an old lady in a hooped skirt- this was Nicholas. A Turkish +girl was Petya. A clown was Dimmler. An hussar was Natasha, and a +Circassian was Sonya with burnt-cork mustache and eyebrows. + +After the condescending surprise, nonrecognition, and praise, from +those who were not themselves dressed up, the young people decided +that their costumes were so good that they ought to be shown +elsewhere. + +Nicholas, who, as the roads were in splendid condition, wanted to +take them all for a drive in his troyka, proposed to take with them +about a dozen of the serf mummers and drive to "Uncle's." + +"No, why disturb the old fellow?" said the countess. "Besides, you +wouldn't have room to turn round there. If you must go, go to the +Melyukovs'" + +Melyukova was a widow, who, with her family and their tutors and +governesses, lived three miles from the Rostovs. + +"That's right, my dear," chimed in the old count, thoroughly +aroused. "I'll dress up at once and go with them. I'll make Pashette +open her eyes." + +But the countess would not agree to his going; he had had a bad +leg all these last days. It was decided that the count must not go, +but that if Louisa Ivanovna (Madame Schoss) would go with them, the +young ladies might go to the Melyukovs', Sonya, generally so timid and +shy, more urgently than anyone begging Louisa Ivanovna not to refuse. + +Sonya's costume was the best of all. Her mustache and eyebrows +were extraordinarily becoming. Everyone told her she looked very +handsome, and she was in a spirited and energetic mood unusual with +her. Some inner voice told her that now or never her fate would be +decided, and in her male attire she seemed quite a different person. +Louisa Ivanovna consented to go, and in half an hour four troyka +sleighs with large and small bells, their runners squeaking and +whistling over the frozen snow, drove up to the porch. + +Natasha was foremost in setting a merry holiday tone, which, passing +from one to another, grew stronger and stronger and reached its climax +when they all came out into the frost and got into the sleighs, +talking, calling to one another, laughing, and shouting. + +Two of the troykas were the usual household sleighs, the third was +the old count's with a trotter from the Orlov stud as shaft horse, the +fourth was Nicholas' own with a short shaggy black shaft horse. +Nicholas, in his old lady's dress over which he had belted his +hussar overcoat, stood in the middle of the sleigh, reins in hand. + +It was so light that he could see the moonlight reflected from the +metal harness disks and from the eyes of the horses, who looked +round in alarm at the noisy party under the shadow of the porch roof. + +Natasha, Sonya, Madame Schoss, and two maids got into Nicholas' +sleigh; Dimmler, his wife, and Petya, into the old count's, and the +rest of the mummers seated themselves in the other two sleighs. + +"You go ahead, Zakhar!" shouted Nicholas to his father's coachman, +wishing for a chance to race past him. + +The old count's troyka, with Dimmler and his party, started forward, +squeaking on its runners as though freezing to the snow, its +deep-toned bell clanging. The side horses, pressing against the shafts +of the middle horse, sank in the snow, which was dry and glittered +like sugar, and threw it up. + +Nicholas set off, following the first sleigh; behind him the +others moved noisily, their runners squeaking. At first they drove +at a steady trot along the narrow road. While they drove past the +garden the shadows of the bare trees often fell across the road and +hid the brilliant moonlight, but as soon as they were past the +fence, the snowy plain bathed in moonlight and motionless spread out +before them glittering like diamonds and dappled with bluish +shadows. Bang, bang! went the first sleigh over a cradle hole in the +snow of the road, and each of the other sleighs jolted in the same +way, and rudely breaking the frost-bound stillness, the troykas +began to speed along the road, one after the other. + +"A hare's track, a lot of tracks!" rang out Natasha's voice +through the frost-bound air. + +"How light it is, Nicholas!" came Sonya's voice. + +Nicholas glanced round at Sonya, and bent down to see her face +closer. Quite a new, sweet face with black eyebrows and mustaches +peeped up at him from her sable furs- so close and yet so distant- +in the moonlight. + +"That used to be Sonya," thought he, and looked at her closer and +smiled. + +"What is it, Nicholas?" + +"Nothing," said he and turned again to the horses. + +When they came out onto the beaten highroad- polished by sleigh +runners and cut up by rough-shod hoofs, the marks of which were +visible in the moonlight- the horses began to tug at the reins of +their own accord and increased their pace. The near side horse, +arching his head and breaking into a short canter, tugged at his +traces. The shaft horse swayed from side to side, moving his ears as +if asking: "Isn't it time to begin now?" In front, already far ahead +the deep bell of the sleigh ringing farther and farther off, the black +horses driven by Zakhar could be clearly seen against the white +snow. From that sleigh one could hear the shouts, laughter, and voices +of the mummers. + +"Gee up, my darlings!" shouted Nicholas, pulling the reins to one +side and flourishing the whip. + +It was only by the keener wind that met them and the jerks given +by the side horses who pulled harder- ever increasing their gallop- +that one noticed how fast the troyka was flying. Nicholas looked back. +With screams squeals, and waving of whips that caused even the shaft +horses to gallop- the other sleighs followed. The shaft horse swung +steadily beneath the bow over its head, with no thought of +slackening pace and ready to put on speed when required. + +Nicholas overtook the first sleigh. They were driving downhill and +coming out upon a broad trodden track across a meadow, near a river. + +"Where are we?" thought he. "It's the Kosoy meadow, I suppose. But +no- this is something new I've never seen before. This isn't the Kosoy +meadow nor the Demkin hill, and heaven only knows what it is! It is +something new and enchanted. Well, whatever it may be..." And shouting +to his horses, he began to pass the first sleigh. + +Zakhar held back his horses and turned his face, which was already +covered with hoarfrost to his eyebrows. + +Nicholas gave the horses the rein, and Zakhar, stretching out his +arms, clucked his tongue and let his horses go. + +"Now, look out, master!" he cried. + +Faster still the two troykas flew side by side, and faster moved the +feet of the galloping side horses. Nicholas began to draw ahead. +Zakhar, while still keeping his arms extended, raised one hand with +the reins. + +"No you won't, master!" he shouted. + +Nicholas put all his horses to a gallop and passed Zakhar. The +horses showered the fine dry snow on the faces of those in the sleigh- +beside them sounded quick ringing bells and they caught confused +glimpses of swiftly moving legs and the shadows of the troyka they +were passing. The whistling sound of the runners on the snow and the +voices of girls shrieking were heard from different sides. + +Again checking his horses, Nicholas looked around him. They were +still surrounded by the magic plain bathed in moonlight and spangled +with stars. + +"Zakhar is shouting that I should turn to the left, but why to the +left?" thought Nicholas. "Are we getting to the Melyukovs'? Is this +Melyukovka? Heaven only knows where we are going, and heaven knows +what is happening to us- but it is very strange and pleasant +whatever it is." And he looked round in the sleigh. + +"Look, his mustache and eyelashes are all white!" said one of the +strange, pretty, unfamiliar people- the one with fine eyebrows and +mustache. + +"I think this used to be Natasha," thought Nicholas, "and that was +Madame Schoss, but perhaps it's not, and this Circassian with the +mustache I don't know, but I love her." + +"Aren't you cold?" he asked. + +They did not answer but began to laugh. Dimmler from the sleigh +behind shouted something- probably something funny- but they could not +make out what he said. + +"Yes, yes!" some voices answered, laughing. + +"But here was a fairy forest with black moving shadows, and a +glitter of diamonds and a flight of marble steps and the silver +roofs of fairy buildings and the shrill yells of some animals. And +if this is really Melyukovka, it is still stranger that we drove +heaven knows where and have come to Melyukovka," thought Nicholas. + +It really was Melyukovka, and maids and footmen with merry faces +came running, out to the porch carrying candles. + +"Who is it?" asked someone in the porch. + +"The mummers from the count's. I know by the horses," replied some +voices. + +CHAPTER XI + +Pelageya Danilovna Melyukova, a broadly built, energetic woman +wearing spectacles, sat in the drawing room in a loose dress, +surrounded by her daughters whom she was trying to keep from feeling +dull. They were quietly dropping melted wax into snow and looking at +the shadows the wax figures would throw on the wall, when they heard +the steps and voices of new arrivals in the vestibule. + +Hussars, ladies, witches, clowns, and bears, after clearing their +throats and wiping the hoarfrost from their faces in the vestibule, +came into the ballroom where candles were hurriedly lighted. The +clown- Dimmler- and the lady- Nicholas- started a dance. Surrounded by +the screaming children the mummers, covering their faces and +disguising their voices, bowed to their hostess and arranged +themselves about the room. + +"Dear me! there's no recognizing them! And Natasha! See whom she +looks like! She really reminds me of somebody. But Herr Dimmler- isn't +he good! I didn't know him! And how he dances. Dear me, there's a +Circassian. Really, how becoming it is to dear Sonya. And who is that? +Well, you have cheered us up! Nikita and Vanya- clear away the tables! +And we were sitting so quietly. Ha, ha, ha!... The hussar, the hussar! +Just like a boy! And the legs!... I can't look at him..." different +voices were saying. + +Natasha, the young Melyukovs' favorite, disappeared with them into +the back rooms where a cork and various dressing gowns and male +garments were called for and received from the footman by bare girlish +arms from behind the door. Ten minutes later, all the young +Melyukovs joined the mummers. + +Pelageya Danilovna, having given orders to clear the rooms for the +visitors and arranged about refreshments for the gentry and the serfs, +went about among the mummers without removing her spectacles, +peering into their faces with a suppressed smile and failing to +recognize any of them. It was not merely Dimmler and the Rostovs she +failed to recognize, she did not even recognize her own daughters, +or her late husband's, dressing gowns and uniforms, which they had put +on. + +"And who is is this?" she asked her governess, peering into the face +of her own daughter dressed up as a Kazan-Tartar. "I suppose it is one +of the Rostovs! Well, Mr. Hussar, and what regiment do you serve +in?" she asked Natasha. "Here, hand some fruit jelly to the Turk!" she +ordered the butler who was handing things round. "That's not forbidden +by his law." + +Sometimes, as she looked at the strange but amusing capers cut by +the dancers, who- having decided once for all that being disguised, no +one would recognize them- were not at all shy, Pelageya Danilovna +hid her face in her handkerchief, and her whole stout body shook +with irrepressible, kindly, elderly laughter. + +"My little Sasha! Look at Sasha!" she said. + +After Russian country dances and chorus dances, Pelageya Danilovna +made the serfs and gentry join in one large circle: a ring, a +string, and a silver ruble were fetched and they all played games +together. + +In an hour, all the costumes were crumpled and disordered. The +corked eyebrows and mustaches were smeared over the perspiring, +flushed, and merry faces. Pelageya Danilovna began to recognize the +mummers, admired their cleverly contrived costumes, and particularly +how they suited the young ladies, and she thanked them all for +having entertained her so well. The visitors were invited to supper in +the drawing room, and the serfs had something served to them in the +ballroom. + +"Now to tell one's fortune in the empty bathhouse is frightening!" +said an old maid who lived with the Melyukovs, during supper. + +"Why?" said the eldest Melyukov girl. + +"You wouldn't go, it takes courage..." + +"I'll go," said Sonya. + +"Tell what happened to the young lady!" said the second Melyukov +girl. + +"Well," began the old maid, "a young lady once went out, took a +cock, laid the table for two, all properly, and sat down. After +sitting a while, she suddenly hears someone coming... a sleigh +drives up with harness bells; she hears him coming! He comes in, +just in the shape of a man, like an officer- comes in and sits down to +table with her." + +"Ah! ah!" screamed Natasha, rolling her eyes with horror. + +"Yes? And how... did he speak?" + +"Yes, like a man. Everything quite all right, and he began +persuading her; and she should have kept him talking till cockcrow, +but she got frightened, just got frightened and hid her face in her +hands. Then he caught her up. It was lucky the maids ran in just +then..." + +"Now, why frighten them?" said Pelageya Danilovna. + +"Mamma, you used to try your fate yourself..." said her daughter. + +"And how does one do it in a barn?" inquired Sonya. + +"Well, say you went to the barn now, and listened. It depends on +what you hear; hammering and knocking- that's bad; but a sound of +shifting grain is good and one sometimes hears that, too." + +"Mamma, tell us what happened to you in the barn." + +Pelageya Danilovna smiled. + +"Oh, I've forgotten..." she replied. "But none of you would go?" + +"Yes, I will; Pelageya Danilovna, let me! I'll go," said Sonya. + +"Well, why not, if you're not afraid?" + +"Louisa Ivanovna, may I?" asked Sonya. + +Whether they were playing the ring and string game or the ruble game +or talking as now, Nicholas did not leave Sonya's side, and gazed at +her with quite new eyes. It seemed to him that it was only today, +thanks to that burnt-cork mustache, that he had fully learned to +know her. And really, that evening, Sonya was brighter, more animated, +and prettier than Nicholas had ever seen her before. + +"So that's what she is like; what a fool I have been!" he thought +gazing at her sparkling eyes, and under the mustache a happy rapturous +smile dimpled her cheeks, a smile he had never seen before. + +"I'm not afraid of anything," said Sonya. "May I go at once?" She +got up. + +They told her where the barn was and how she should stand and +listen, and they handed her a fur cloak. She threw this over her +head and shoulders and glanced at Nicholas. + +"What a darling that girl is!" thought he. "And what have I been +thinking of till now?" + +Sonya went out into the passage to go to the barn. Nicholas went +hastily to the front porch, saying he felt too hot. The crowd of +people really had made the house stuffy. + +Outside, there was the same cold stillness and the same moon, but +even brighter than before. The light was so strong and the snow +sparkled with so many stars that one did not wish to look up at the +sky and the real stars were unnoticed. The sky was black and dreary, +while the earth was gay. + +"I am a fool, a fool! what have I been waiting for?" thought +Nicholas. and running out from the porch he went round the corner of +the house and along the path that led to the back porch. He knew Sonya +would pass that way. Halfway lay some snow-covered piles of firewood +and across and along them a network of shadows from the bare old +lime trees fell on the snow and on the path. This path led to the +barn. The log walls of the barn and its snow-covered roof, that looked +as if hewn out of some precious stone, sparkled in the moonlight. A +tree in the garden snapped with the frost, and then all was again +perfectly silent. His bosom seemed to inhale not air but the +strength of eternal youth and gladness. + +From the back porch came the sound of feet descending the steps, the +bottom step upon which snow had fallen gave a ringing creak and he +heard the voice of an old maidservant saying, "Straight, straight, +along the path, Miss. Only, don't look back." + +"I am not afraid," answered Sonya's voice, and along the path toward +Nicholas came the crunching, whistling sound of Sonya's feet in her +thin shoes. + +Sonya came along, wrapped in her cloak. She was only a couple of +paces away when she saw him, and to her too he was not the Nicholas +she had known and always slightly feared. He was in a woman's dress, +with tousled hair and a happy smile new to Sonya. She ran rapidly +toward him. + +"Quite different and yet the same," thought Nicholas, looking at her +face all lit up by the moonlight. He slipped his arms under the +cloak that covered her head, embraced her, pressed her to him, and +kissed her on the lips that wore a mustache and had a smell of burnt +cork. Sonya kissed him full on the lips, and disengaging her little +hands pressed them to his cheeks. + +"Sonya!... Nicholas!"... was all they said. They ran to the barn and +then back again, re-entering, he by the front and she by the back +porch. + +CHAPTER XII + +When they all drove back from Pelageya Danilovna's, Natasha, who +always saw and noticed everything, arranged that she and Madame Schoss +should go back in the sleigh with Dimmler, and Sonya with Nicholas and +the maids. + +On the way back Nicholas drove at a steady pace instead of racing +and kept peering by that fantastic all-transforming light into Sonya's +face and searching beneath the eyebrows and mustache for his former +and his present Sonya from whom he had resolved never to be parted +again. He looked and recognizing in her both the old and the new +Sonya, and being reminded by the smell of burnt cork of the +sensation of her kiss, inhaled the frosty air with a full breast +and, looking at the ground flying beneath him and at the sparkling +sky, felt himself again in fairyland. + +"Sonya, is it well with thee?" he asked from time to time. + +"Yes!" she replied. "And with thee?" + +When halfway home Nicholas handed the reins to the coachman and +ran for a moment to Natasha's sleigh and stood on its wing. + +"Natasha!" he whispered in French, "do you know I have made up my +mind about Sonya?" + +"Have you told her?" asked Natasha, suddenly beaming all over with +joy. + +"Oh, how strange you are with that mustache and those eyebrows!... +Natasha- are you glad?" + +"I am so glad, so glad! I was beginning to be vexed with you. I +did not tell you, but you have been treating her badly. What a heart +she has, Nicholas! I am horrid sometimes, but I was ashamed to be +happy while Sonya was not," continued Natasha. "Now I am so glad! +Well, run back to her." + +"No, wait a bit.... Oh, how funny you look!" cried Nicholas, peering +into her face and finding in his sister too something new, unusual, +and bewitchingly tender that he had not seen in her before. +"Natasha, it's magical, isn't it?" + +"Yes," she replied. "You have done splendidly." + +"Had I seen her before as she is now," thought Nicholas, "I should +long ago have asked her what to do and have done whatever she told me, +and all would have been well." + +"So you are glad and I have done right?" + +"Oh, quite right! I had a quarrel with Mamma some time ago about it. +Mamma said she was angling for you. How could she say such a thing! +I nearly stormed at Mamma. I will never let anyone say anything bad of +Sonya, for there is nothing but good in her." + +"Then it's all right?" said Nicholas, again scrutinizing the +expression of his sister's face to see if she was in earnest. Then +he jumped down and, his boots scrunching the snow, ran back to his +sleigh. The same happy, smiling Circassian, with mustache and +beaming eyes looking up from under a sable hood, was still sitting +there, and that Circassian was Sonya, and that Sonya was certainly his +future happy and loving wife. + +When they reached home and had told their mother how they had +spent the evening at the Melyukovs', the girls went to their +bedroom. When they had undressed, but without washing off the cork +mustaches, they sat a long time talking of their happiness. They +talked of how they would live when they were married, how their +husbands would be friends, and how happy they would be. On Natasha's +table stood two looking glasses which Dunyasha had prepared +beforehand. + +"Only when will all that be? I am afraid never.... It would be too +good!" said Natasha, rising and going to the looking glasses. + +"Sit down, Natasha; perhaps you'll see him," said Sonya. + +Natasha lit the candles, one on each side of one of the looking +glasses, and sat down. + +"I see someone with a mustache," said Natasha, seeing her own face. + +"You mustn't laugh, Miss," said Dunyasha. + +With Sonya's help and the maid's, Natasha got the glass she held +into the right position opposite the other; her face assumed a serious +expression and she sat silent. She sat a long time looking at the +receding line of candles reflected in the glasses and expecting +(from tales she had heard) to see a coffin, or him, Prince Andrew, +in that last dim, indistinctly outlined square. But ready as she was +to take the smallest speck for the image of a man or of a coffin, +she saw nothing. She began blinking rapidly and moved away from the +looking glasses. + +"Why is it others see things and I don't?" she said. "You sit down +now, Sonya. You absolutely must, tonight! Do it for me.... Today I +feel so frightened!" + +Sonya sat down before the glasses, got the right position, and began +looking. + +"Now, Miss Sonya is sure to see something," whispered Dunyasha; +"while you do nothing but laugh." + +Sonya heard this and Natasha's whisper: + +"I know she will. She saw something last year." + +For about three minutes all were silent. + +"Of course she will!" whispered Natasha, but did not finish... +suddenly Sonya pushed away the glass she was holding and covered her +eyes with her hand. + +"Oh, Natasha!" she cried. + +"Did you see? Did you? What was it?" exclaimed Natasha, holding up +the looking glass. + +Sonya had not seen anything, she was just wanting to blink and to +get up when she heard Natasha say, "Of course she will!" She did not +wish to disappoint either Dunyasha or Natasha, but it was hard to +sit still. She did not herself know how or why the exclamation escaped +her when she covered her eyes. + +"You saw him?" urged Natasha, seizing her hand. + +"Yes. Wait a bit... I... saw him," Sonya could not help saying, +not yet knowing whom Natasha meant by him, Nicholas or Prince Andrew. + +"But why shouldn't I say I saw something? Others do see! Besides who +can tell whether I saw anything or not?" flashed through Sonya's mind. + +"Yes, I saw him," she said. + +"How? Standing or lying?" + +"No, I saw... At first there was nothing, then I saw him lying +down." + +"Andrew lying? Is he ill?" asked Natasha, her frightened eyes +fixed on her friend. + +"No, on the contrary, on the contrary! His face was cheerful, and he +turned to me." And when saying this she herself fancied she had really +seen what she described. + +"Well, and then, Sonya?..." + +"After that, I could not make out what there was; something blue and +red..." + +"Sonya! When will he come back? When shall I see him! O, God, how +afraid I am for him and for myself and about everything!..." Natasha +began, and without replying to Sonya's words of comfort she got into +bed, and long after her candle was out lay open-eyed and motionless, +gazing at the moonlight through the frosty windowpanes. + +CHAPTER XIII + +Soon after the Christmas holidays Nicholas told his mother of his +love for Sonya and of his firm resolve to marry her. The countess, who +had long noticed what was going on between them and was expecting this +declaration, listened to him in silence and then told her son that +he might marry whom he pleased, but that neither she nor his father +would give their blessing to such a marriage. Nicholas, for the +first time, felt that his mother was displeased with him and that, +despite her love for him, she would not give way. Coldly, without +looking at her son, she sent for her husband and, when he came, +tried briefly and coldly to inform him of the facts, in her son's +presence, but unable to restrain herself she burst into tears of +vexation and left the room. The old count began irresolutely to +admonish Nicholas and beg him to abandon his purpose. Nicholas replied +that he could not go back on his word, and his father, sighing and +evidently disconcerted, very soon became silent and went in to the +countess. In all his encounters with his son, the count was always +conscious of his own guilt toward him for having wasted the family +fortune, and so he could not be angry with him for refusing to marry +an heiress and choosing the dowerless Sonya. On this occasion, he +was only more vividly conscious of the fact that if his affairs had +not been in disorder, no better wife for Nicholas than Sonya could +have been wished for, and that no one but himself with his Mitenka and +his uncomfortable habits was to blame for the condition of the +family finances. + +The father and mother did not speak of the matter to their son +again, but a few days later the countess sent for Sonya and, with a +cruelty neither of them expected, reproached her niece for trying to +catch Nicholas and for ingratitude. Sonya listened silently with +downcast eyes to the countess' cruel words, without understanding what +was required of her. She was ready to sacrifice everything for her +benefactors. Self-sacrifice was her most cherished idea but in this +case she could not see what she ought to sacrifice, or for whom. She +could not help loving the countess and the whole Rostov family, but +neither could she help loving Nicholas and knowing that his +happiness depended on that love. She was silent and sad and did not +reply. Nicholas felt the situation to be intolerable and went to +have an explanation with his mother. He first implored her to +forgive him and Sonya and consent to their marriage, then he +threatened that if she molested Sonya he would at once marry her +secretly. + +The countess, with a coldness her son had never seen in her +before, replied that he was of age, that Prince Andrew was marrying +without his father's consent, and he could do the same, but that she +would never receive that intriguer as her daughter. + +Exploding at the word intriguer, Nicholas, raising his voice, told +his mother he had never expected her to try to force him to sell his +feelings, but if that were so, he would say for the last time.... +But he had no time to utter the decisive word which the expression +of his face caused his mother to await with terror, and which would +perhaps have forever remained a cruel memory to them both. He had +not time to say it, for Natasha, with a pale and set face, entered the +room from the door at which she had been listening. + +"Nicholas, you are talking nonsense! Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, I +tell you!..." she almost screamed, so as to drown his voice. + +"Mamma darling, it's not at all so... my poor, sweet darling," she +said to her mother, who conscious that they had been on the brink of a +rupture gazed at her son with terror, but in the obstinacy and +excitement of the conflict could not and would not give way. + +"Nicholas, I'll explain to you. Go away! Listen, Mamma darling," +said Natasha. + +Her words were incoherent, but they attained the purpose at which +she was aiming. + +The countess, sobbing heavily, hid her face on her daughter's +breast, while Nicholas rose, clutching his head, and left the room. + +Natasha set to work to effect a reconciliation, and so far succeeded +that Nicholas received a promise from his mother that Sonya should not +be troubled, while he on his side promised not to undertake anything +without his parents' knowledge. + +Firmly resolved, after putting his affairs in order in the regiment, +to retire from the army and return and marry Sonya, Nicholas, serious, +sorrowful, and at variance with his parents, but, as it seemed to him, +passionately in love, left at the beginning of January to rejoin his +regiment. + +After Nicholas had gone things in the Rostov household were more +depressing than ever, and the countess fell ill from mental agitation. + +Sonya was unhappy at the separation from Nicholas and still more +so on account of the hostile tone the countess could not help adopting +toward her. The count was more perturbed than ever by the condition of +his affairs, which called for some decisive action. Their town house +and estate near Moscow had inevitably to be sold, and for this they +had to go to Moscow. But the countess' health obliged them to delay +their departure from day to day. + +Natasha, who had borne the first period of separation from her +betrothed lightly and even cheerfully, now grew more agitated and +impatient every day. The thought that her best days, which she would +have employed in loving him, were being vainly wasted, with no +advantage to anyone, tormented her incessantly. His letters for the +most part irritated her. It hurt her to think that while she lived +only in the thought of him, he was living a real life, seeing new +places and new people that interested him. The more interesting his +letters were the more vexed she felt. Her letters to him, far from +giving her any comfort, seemed to her a wearisome and artificial +obligation. She could not write, because she could not conceive the +possibility of expressing sincerely in a letter even a thousandth part +of what she expressed by voice, smile, and glance. She wrote to him +formal, monotonous, and dry letters, to which she attached no +importance herself, and in the rough copies of which the countess +corrected her mistakes in spelling. + +There was still no improvement in the countess' health, but it was +impossible to defer the journey to Moscow any longer. Natasha's +trousseau had to be ordered and the house sold. Moreover, Prince +Andrew was expected in Moscow, where old Prince Bolkonski was spending +the winter, and Natasha felt sure he had already arrived. + +So the countess remained in the country, and the count, taking Sonya +and Natasha with him, went to Moscow at the end of January. + +BOOK EIGHT: 1811 - 12 + +CHAPTER I + +After Prince Andrews engagement to Natasha, Pierre without any +apparent cause suddenly felt it impossible to go on living as +before. Firmly convinced as he was of the truths revealed to him by +his benefactor, and happy as he had been in perfecting his inner +man, to which he had devoted himself with such ardor- all the zest +of such a life vanished after the engagement of Andrew and Natasha and +the death of Joseph Alexeevich, the news of which reached him almost +at the same time. Only the skeleton of life remained: his house, a +brilliant wife who now enjoyed the favors of a very important +personage, acquaintance with all Petersburg, and his court service +with its dull formalities. And this life suddenly seemed to Pierre +unexpectedly loathsome. He ceased keeping a diary, avoided the company +of the Brothers, began going to the Club again, drank a great deal, +and came once more in touch with the bachelor sets, leading such a +life that the Countess Helene thought it necessary to speak severely +to him about it. Pierre felt that she right, and to avoid compromising +her went away to Moscow. + +In Moscow as soon as he entered his huge house in which the faded +and fading princesses still lived, with its enormous retinue; as +soon as, driving through the town, he saw the Iberian shrine with +innumerable tapers burning before the golden covers of the icons, +the Kremlin Square with its snow undisturbed by vehicles, the sleigh +drivers and hovels of the Sivtsev Vrazhok, those old Moscovites who +desired nothing, hurried nowhere, and were ending their days +leisurely; when he saw those old Moscow ladies, the Moscow balls, +and the English Club, he felt himself at home in a quiet haven. In +Moscow he felt at peace, at home, warm and dirty as in an old dressing +gown. + +Moscow society, from the old women down to the children, received +Pierre like a long-expected guest whose place was always ready +awaiting him. For Moscow society Pierre was the nicest, kindest, +most intellectual, merriest, and most magnanimous of cranks, a +heedless, genial nobleman of the old Russian type. His purse was +always empty because it was open to everyone. + +Benefit performances, poor pictures, statues, benevolent +societies, gypsy choirs, schools, subscription dinners, sprees, +Freemasons, churches, and books- no one and nothing met with a refusal +from him, and had it not been for two friends who had borrowed large +sums from him and taken him under their protection, he would have +given everything away. There was never a dinner or soiree at the +Club without him. As soon as he sank into his place on the sofa +after two bottles of Margaux he was surrounded, and talking, +disputing, and joking began. When there were quarrels, his kindly +smile and well-timed jests reconciled the antagonists. The Masonic +dinners were dull and dreary when he was not there. + +When after a bachelor supper he rose with his amiable and kindly +smile, yielding to the entreaties of the festive company to drive +off somewhere with them, shouts of delight and triumph arose among the +young men. At balls he danced if a partner was needed. Young ladies, +married and unmarried, liked him because without making love to any of +them, he was equally amiable to all, especially after supper. "Il +est charmant; il n'a pas de sexe,"~^ they said of him. + +^~ "He is charming; he has no sex." + +Pierre was one of those retired gentlemen-in-waiting of whom there +were hundreds good-humoredly ending their days in Moscow. + +How horrified he would have been seven years before, when he first +arrived from abroad, had he been told that there was no need for him +to seek or plan anything, that his rut had long been shaped, eternally +predetermined, and that wriggle as he might, he would be what all in +his position were. He could not have believed it! Had he not at one +time longed with all his heart to establish a republic in Russia; then +himself to be a Napoleon; then to be a philosopher; and then a +strategist and the conqueror of Napoleon? Had he not seen the +possibility of, and passionately desired, the regeneration of the +sinful human race, and his own progress to the highest degree of +perfection? Had he not established schools and hospitals and liberated +his serfs? + +But instead of all that- here he was, the wealthy husband of an +unfaithful wife, a retired gentleman-in-waiting, fond of eating and +drinking and, as he unbuttoned his waistcoat, of abusing the +government a bit, a member of the Moscow English Club, and a universal +favorite in Moscow society. For a long time he could not reconcile +himself to the idea that he was one of those same retired Moscow +gentlemen-in-waiting he had so despised seven years before. + +Sometimes he consoled himself with the thought that he was only +living this life temporarily; but then he was shocked by the thought +of how many, like himself, had entered that life and that Club +temporarily, with all their teeth and hair, and had only left it +when not a single tooth or hair remained. + +In moments of pride, when he thought of his position it seemed to +him that he was quite different and distinct from those other +retired gentlemen-in-waiting he had formerly despised: they were +empty, stupid, contented fellows, satisfied with their position, +"while I am still discontented and want to do something for mankind. +But perhaps all these comrades of mine struggled just like me and +sought something new, a path in life of their own, and like me were +brought by force of circumstances, society, and race- by that +elemental force against which man is powerless- to the condition I +am in," said he to himself in moments of humility; and after living +some time in Moscow he no longer despised, but began to grow fond +of, to respect, and to pity his comrades in destiny, as he pitied +himself. + +Pierre longer suffered moments of despair, hypochondria, and disgust +with life, but the malady that had formerly found expression in such +acute attacks was driven inwards and never left him for a moment. +"What for? Why? What is going on in the world?" he would ask himself +in perplexity several times a day, involuntarily beginning to +reflect anew on the meaning of the phenomena of life; but knowing by +experience that there were no answers to these questions he made haste +to turn away from them, and took up a book, or hurried of to the +Club or to Apollon Nikolaevich's, to exchange the gossip of the town. + +"Helene, who has never cared for anything but her own body and is +one of the stupidest women in the world," thought Pierre, "is regarded +by people as the acme of intelligence and refinement, and they pay +homage to her. Napoleon Bonaparte was despised by all as long as he +was great, but now that he has become a wretched comedian the +Emperor Francis wants to offer him his daughter in an illegal +marriage. The Spaniards, through the Catholic clergy, offer praise +to God for their victory over the French on the fourteenth of June, +and the French, also through the Catholic clergy, offer praise because +on that same fourteenth of June they defeated the Spaniards. My +brother Masons swear by the blood that they are ready to sacrifice +everything for their neighbor, but they do not give a ruble each to +the collections for the poor, and they intrigue, the Astraea Lodge +against the Manna Seekers, and fuss about an authentic Scotch carpet +and a charter that nobody needs, and the meaning of which the very man +who wrote it does not understand. We all profess the Christian law +of forgiveness of injuries and love of our neighbors, the law in honor +of which we have built in Moscow forty times forty churches- but +yesterday a deserter was knouted to death and a minister of that +same law of love and forgiveness, a priest, gave the soldier a cross +to kiss before his execution." So thought Pierre, and the whole of +this general deception which everyone accepts, accustomed as he was to +it, astonished him each time as if it were something new. "I +understand the deception and confusion," he thought, "but how am I +to tell them all that I see? I have tried, and have always found +that they too in the depths of their souls understand it as I do, +and only try not to see it. So it appears that it must be so! But I- +what is to become of me?" thought he. He had the unfortunate +capacity many men, especially Russians, have of seeing and believing +in the possibility of goodness and truth, but of seeing the evil and +falsehood of life too clearly to be able to take a serious part in it. +Every sphere of work was connected, in his eyes, with evil and +deception. Whatever he tried to be, whatever he engaged in, the evil +and falsehood of it repulsed him and blocked every path of activity. +Yet he had to live and to find occupation. It was too dreadful to be +under the burden of these insoluble problems, so he abandoned +himself to any distraction in order to forget them. He frequented +every kind of society, drank much, bought pictures, engaged in +building, and above all- read. + +He read, and read everything that came to hand. On coming home, +while his valets were still taking off his things, he picked up a book +and began to read. From reading he passed to sleeping, from sleeping +to gossip in drawing rooms of the Club, from gossip to carousals and +women; from carousals back to gossip, reading, and wine. Drinking +became more and more a physical and also a moral necessity. Though the +doctors warned him that with his corpulence wine was dangerous for +him, he drank a great deal. He was only quite at ease when having +poured several glasses of wine mechanically into his large mouth he +felt a pleasant warmth in his body, an amiability toward all his +fellows, and a readiness to respond superficially to every idea +without probing it deeply. Only after emptying a bottle or two did +he feel dimly that the terribly tangled skein of life which previously +had terrified him was not as dreadful as he had thought. He was always +conscious of some aspect of that skein, as with a buzzing in his +head after dinner or supper he chatted or listened to conversation +or read. But under the influence of wine he said to himself: "It +doesn't matter. I'll get it unraveled. I have a solution ready, but +have no time now- I'll think it all out later on!" But the later on +never came. + +In the morning, on an empty stomach, all the old questions +appeared as insoluble and terrible as ever, and Pierre hastily +picked up a book, and if anyone came to see him he was glad. + +Sometimes he remembered how he had heard that soldiers in war when +entrenched under the enemy's fire, if they have nothing to do, try +hard to find some occupation the more easily to bear the danger. To +Pierre all men seemed like those soldiers, seeking refuge from life: +some in ambition, some in cards, some in framing laws, some in +women, some in toys, some in horses, some in politics, some in +sport, some in wine, and some in governmental affairs. "Nothing is +trivial, and nothing is important, it's all the same- only to save +oneself from it as best one can," thought Pierre. "Only not to see it, +that dreadful it!" + +CHAPTER II + +At the beginning of winter Prince Nicholas Bolkonski and his +daughter moved to Moscow. At that time enthusiasm for the Emperor +Alexander's regime had weakened and a patriotic and anti-French +tendency prevailed there, and this, together with his past and his +intellect and his originality, at once made Prince Nicholas +Bolkonski an object of particular respect to the Moscovites and the +center of the Moscow opposition to the government. + +The prince had aged very much that year. He showed marked signs of +senility by a tendency to fall asleep, forgetfulness of quite recent +events, remembrance of remote ones, and the childish vanity with which +he accepted the role of head of the Moscow opposition. In spite of +this the old man inspired in all his visitors alike a feeling of +respectful veneration- especially of an evening when he came in to tea +in his old-fashioned coat and powdered wig and, aroused by anyone, +told his abrupt stories of the past, or uttered yet more abrupt and +scathing criticisms of the present. For them all, that old-fashioned +house with its gigantic mirrors, pre-Revolution furniture, powdered +footmen, and the stern shrewd old man (himself a relic of the past +century) with his gentle daughter and the pretty Frenchwoman who +were reverently devoted to him presented a majestic and agreeable +spectacle. But the visitors did not reflect that besides the couple of +hours during which they saw their host, there were also twenty-two +hours in the day during which the private and intimate life of the +house continued. + +Latterly that private life had become very trying for Princess Mary. +There in Moscow she was deprived of her greatest pleasures- talks with +the pilgrims and the solitude which refreshed her at Bald Hills- and +she had none of the advantages and pleasures of city life. She did not +go out into society; everyone knew that her father would not let her +go anywhere without him, and his failing health prevented his going +out himself, so that she was not invited to dinners and evening +parties. She had quite abandoned the hope of getting married. She +saw the coldness and malevolence with which the old prince received +and dismissed the young men, possible suitors, who sometimes +appeared at their house. She had no friends: during this visit to +Moscow she had been disappointed in the two who had been nearest to +her. Mademoiselle Bourienne, with whom she had never been able to be +quite frank, had now become unpleasant to her, and for various reasons +Princess Mary avoided her. Julie, with whom she had corresponded for +the last five years, was in Moscow, but proved to be quite alien to +her when they met. Just then Julie, who by the death of her brothers +had become one of the richest heiresses in Moscow, was in the full +whirl of society pleasures. She was surrounded by young men who, she +fancied, had suddenly learned to appreciate her worth. Julie was at +that stage in the life of a society woman when she feels that her last +chance of marrying has come and that her fate must be decided now or +never. On Thursdays Princess Mary remembered with a mournful smile +that she now had no one to write to, since Julie- whose presence +gave her no pleasure was here and they met every week. Like the old +emigre who declined to marry the lady with whom he had spent his +evenings for years, she regretted Julie's presence and having no one +to write to. In Moscow Princess Mary had no one to talk to, no one +to whom to confide her sorrow, and much sorrow fell to her lot just +then. The time for Prince Andrew's return and marriage was +approaching, but his request to her to prepare his father for it had +not been carried out; in fact, it seemed as if matters were quite +hopeless, for at every mention of the young Countess Rostova the old +prince (who apart from that was usually in a bad temper) lost +control of himself. Another lately added sorrow arose from the lessons +she gave her six year-old nephew. To her consternation she detected in +herself in relation to little Nicholas some symptoms of her father's +irritability. However often she told herself that she must not get +irritable when teaching her nephew, almost every time that, pointer in +hand, she sat down to show him the French alphabet, she so longed to +pour her own knowledge quickly and easily into the child- who was +already afraid that Auntie might at any moment get angry- that at +his slightest inattention she trembled, became flustered and heated, +raised her voice, and sometimes pulled him by the arm and put him in +the corner. Having put him in the corner she would herself begin to +cry over her cruel, evil nature, and little Nicholas, following her +example, would sob, and without permission would leave his corner, +come to her, pull her wet hands from her face, and comfort her. But +what distressed the princess most of all was her father's +irritability, which was always directed against her and had of late +amounted to cruelty. Had he forced her to prostrate herself to the +ground all night, had he beaten her or made her fetch wood or water, +it would never have entered her mind to think her position hard; but +this loving despot- the more cruel because he loved her and for that +reason tormented himself and her- knew how not merely to hurt and +humiliate her deliberately, but to show her that she was always to +blame for everything. Of late he had exhibited a new trait that +tormented Princess Mary more than anything else; this was his +ever-increasing intimacy with Mademoiselle Bourienne. The idea that at +the first moment of receiving the news of his son's intentions had +occurred to him in jest- that if Andrew got married he himself would +marry Bourienne- had evidently pleased him, and latterly he had +persistently, and as it seemed to Princess Mary merely to offend +her, shown special endearments to the companion and expressed his +dissatisfaction with his daughter by demonstrations of love of +Bourienne. + +One day in Moscow in Princess Mary's presence (she thought her +father did it purposely when she was there) the old prince kissed +Mademoiselle Bourienne's hand and, drawing her to him, embraced her +affectionately. Princess Mary flushed and ran out of the room. A few +minutes later Mademoiselle Bourienne came into Princess Mary's room +smiling and making cheerful remarks in her agreeable voice. Princess +Mary hastily wiped away her tears, went resolutely up to +Mademoiselle Bourienne, and evidently unconscious of what she was +doing began shouting in angry haste at the Frenchwoman, her voice +breaking: "It's horrible, vile, inhuman, to take advantage of the +weakness..." She did not finish. "Leave my room," she exclaimed, and +burst into sobs. + +Next day the prince did not say a word to his daughter, but she +noticed that at dinner he gave orders that Mademoiselle Bourienne +should be served first. After dinner, when the footman handed coffee +and from habit began with the princess, the prince suddenly grew +furious, threw his stick at Philip, and instantly gave instructions to +have him conscripted for the army. + +"He doesn't obey... I said it twice... and he doesn't obey! She is +the first person in this house; she's my best friend," cried the +prince. "And if you allow yourself," he screamed in a fury, addressing +Princess Mary for the first time, "to forget yourself again before her +as you dared to do yesterday, I will show you who is master in this +house. Go! Don't let me set eyes on you; beg her pardon!" + +Princess Mary asked Mademoiselle Bourienne's pardon, and also her +father's pardon for herself and for Philip the footman, who had begged +for her intervention. + +At such moments something like a pride of sacrifice gathered in +her soul. And suddenly that father whom she had judged would look +for his spectacles in her presence, fumbling near them and not +seeing them, or would forget something that had just occurred, or take +a false step with his failing legs and turn to see if anyone had +noticed his feebleness, or, worst of all, at dinner when there were no +visitors to excite him would suddenly fall asleep, letting his +napkin drop and his shaking head sink over his plate. "He is old and +feeble, and I dare to condemn him!" she thought at such moments, +with a feeling of revulsion against herself. + +CHAPTER III + +In 1811 there was living in Moscow a French doctor- Metivier- who +had rapidly become the fashion. He was enormously tall, handsome, +amiable as Frenchmen are, and was, as all Moscow said, an +extraordinarily clever doctor. He was received in the best houses +not merely as a doctor, but as an equal. + +Prince Nicholas had always ridiculed medicine, but latterly on +Mademoiselle Bourienne's advice had allowed this doctor to visit him +and had grown accustomed to him. Metivier came to see the prince about +twice a week. + +On December 6- St. Nicholas' Day and the prince's name day- all +Moscow came to the prince's front door but he gave orders to admit +no one and to invite to dinner only a small number, a list of whom +he gave to Princess Mary. + +Metivier, who came in the morning with his felicitations, considered +it proper in his quality of doctor de forcer la consigne,~^ as he +told Princess Mary, and went in to see the prince. It happened that on +that morning of his name day the prince was in one of his worst moods. +He had been going about the house all the morning finding fault with +everyone and pretending not to understand what was said to him and not +to be understood himself. Princess Mary well knew this mood of quiet +absorbed querulousness, which generally culminated in a burst of rage, +and she went about all that morning as though facing a cocked and +loaded gun and awaited the inevitable explosion. Until the doctor's +arrival the morning had passed off safely. After admitting the doctor, +Princess Mary sat down with a book in the drawing room near the door +through which she could hear all that passed in the study. + +^~ To force the guard. + +At first she heard only Metivier's voice, then her father's, then +both voices began speaking at the same time, the door was flung +open, and on the threshold appeared the handsome figure of the +terrified Metivier with his shock of black hair, and the prince in his +dressing gown and fez, his face distorted with fury and the pupils +of his eyes rolled downwards. + +"You don't understand?" shouted the prince, "but I do! French spy, +slave of Buonaparte, spy, get out of my house! Be off, I tell you..." + +Metivier, shrugging his shoulders, went up to Mademoiselle Bourienne +who at the sound of shouting had run in from an adjoining room. + +"The prince is not very well: bile and rush of blood to the head. +Keep calm, I will call again tomorrow," said Metivier; and putting his +fingers to his lips he hastened away. + +Through the study door came the sound of slippered feet and the cry: +"Spies, traitors, traitors everywhere! Not a moment's peace in my +own house!" + +After Metivier's departure the old prince called his daughter in, +and the whole weight of his wrath fell on her. She was to blame that a +spy had been admitted. Had he not told her, yes, told her to make a +list, and not to admit anyone who was not on that list? Then why was +that scoundrel admitted? She was the cause of it all. With her, he +said, he could not have a moment's peace and could not die quietly. + +"No, ma'am! We must part, we must part! Understand that, +understand it! I cannot endure any more," he said, and left the +room. Then, as if afraid she might find some means of consolation, +he returned and trying to appear calm added: "And don't imagine I have +said this in a moment of anger. I am calm. I have thought it over, and +it will be carried out- we must part; so find some place for +yourself...." But he could not restrain himself and with the virulence +of which only one who loves is capable, evidently suffering himself, +he shook his fists at her and screamed: + +"If only some fool would marry her!" Then he slammed the door, +sent for Mademoiselle Bourienne, and subsided into his study. + +At two o'clock the six chosen guests assembled for dinner. + +These guests- the famous Count Rostopchin, Prince Lopukhin with +his nephew, General Chatrov an old war comrade of the prince's, and of +the younger generation Pierre and Boris Drubetskoy- awaited the prince +in the drawing room. + +Boris, who had come to Moscow on leave a few days before, had been +anxious to be presented to Prince Nicholas Bolkonski, and had +contrived to ingratiate himself so well that the old prince in his +case made an exception to the rule of not receiving bachelors in his +house. + +The prince's house did not belong to what is known as fashionable +society, but his little circle- though not much talked about in +town- was one it was more flattering to be received in than any other. +Boris had realized this the week before when the commander in chief in +his presence invited Rostopchin to dinner on St. Nicholas' Day, and +Rostopchin had replied that he could not come: + +"On that day I always go to pay my devotions to the relics of Prince +Nicholas Bolkonski." + +"Oh, yes, yes!" replied the commander in chief. "How is he?..." + +The small group that assembled before dinner in the lofty +old-fashioned drawing room with its old furniture resembled the solemn +gathering of a court of justice. All were silent or talked in low +tones. Prince Nicholas came in serious and taciturn. Princess Mary +seemed even quieter and more diffident than usual. The guests were +reluctant to address her, feeling that she was in no mood for their +conversation. Count Rostopchin alone kept the conversation going, +now relating the latest town news, and now the latest political +gossip. + +Lopukhin and the old general occasionally took part in the +conversation. Prince Bolkonski listened as a presiding judge +receives a report, only now and then, silently or by a brief word, +showing that he took heed of what was being reported to him. The +tone of the conversation was such as indicated that no one approved of +what was being done in the political world. Incidents were related +evidently confirming the opinion that everything was going from bad to +worse, but whether telling a story or giving an opinion the speaker +always stopped, or was stopped, at the point beyond which his +criticism might touch the sovereign himself. + +At dinner the talk turned on the latest political news: Napoleon's +seizure of the Duke of Oldenburg's territory, and the Russian Note, +hostile to Napoleon, which had been sent to all the European courts. + +"Bonaparte treats Europe as a pirate does a captured vessel," said +Count Rostopchin, repeating a phrase he had uttered several times +before. "One only wonders at the long-suffering or blindness of the +crowned heads. Now the Pope's turn has come and Bonaparte doesn't +scruple to depose the head of the Catholic Church- yet all keep +silent! Our sovereign alone has protested against the seizure of the +Duke of Oldenburg's territory, and even..." Count Rostopchin paused, +feeling that he had reached the limit beyond which censure was +impossible. + +"Other territories have been offered in exchange for the Duchy of +Oldenburg," said Prince Bolkonski. "He shifts the Dukes about as I +might move my serfs from Bald Hills to Bogucharovo or my Ryazan +estates." + +"The Duke of Oldenburg bears his misfortunes with admirable strength +of character and resignation," remarked Boris, joining in +respectfully. + +He said this because on his journey from Petersburg he had had the +honor of being presented to the Duke. Prince Bolkonski glanced at +the young man as if about to say something in reply, but changed his +mind, evidently considering him too young. + +"I have read our protests about the Oldenburg affair and was +surprised how badly the Note was worded," remarked Count Rostopchin in +the casual tone of a man dealing with a subject quite familiar to him. + +Pierre looked at Rostopchin with naive astonishment, not +understanding why he should be disturbed by the bad composition of the +Note. + +"Does it matter, Count, how the Note is worded," he asked, "so +long as its substance is forcible?" + +"My dear fellow, with our five hundred thousand troops it should +be easy to have a good style," returned Count Rostopchin. + +Pierre now understood the count's dissatisfaction with the wording +of the Note. + +"One would have thought quill drivers enough had sprung up," +remarked the old prince. "There in Petersburg they are always writing- +not notes only but even new laws. My Andrew there has written a +whole volume of laws for Russia. Nowadays they are always writing!" +and he laughed unnaturally. + +There was a momentary pause in the conversation; the old general +cleared his throat to draw attention. + +"Did you hear of the last event at the review in Petersburg? The +figure cut by the new French ambassador." + +"Eh? Yes, I heard something: he said something awkward in His +Majesty's presence." + +"His Majesty drew attention to the Grenadier division and to the +march past," continued the general, "and it seems the ambassador +took no notice and allowed himself to reply that: 'We in France pay no +attention to such trifles!' The Emperor did not condescend to reply. +At the next review, they say, the Emperor did not once deign to +address him." + +All were silent. On this fact relating to the Emperor personally, it +was impossible to pass any judgment. + +"Impudent fellows!" said the prince. "You know Metivier? I turned +him out of my house this morning. He was here; they admitted him spite +of my request that they should let no one in," he went on, glancing +angrily at his daughter. + +And he narrated his whole conversation with the French doctor and +the reasons that convinced him that Metivier was a spy. Though these +reasons were very insufficient and obscure, no one made any rejoinder. + +After the roast, champagne was served. The guests rose to +congratulate the old prince. Princess Mary, too, went round to him. + +He gave her a cold, angry look and offered her his wrinkled, +clean-shaven cheek to kiss. The whole expression of his face told +her that he had not forgotten the morning's talk, that his decision +remained in force, and only the presence of visitors hindered his +speaking of it to her now. + +When they went into the drawing room where coffee was served, the +old men sat together. + +Prince Nicholas grew more animated and expressed his views on the +impending war. + +He said that our wars with Bonaparte would be disastrous so long +as we sought alliances with the Germans and thrust ourselves into +European affairs, into which we had been drawn by the Peace of Tilsit. +"We ought not to fight either for or against Austria. Our political +interests are all in the East, and in regard to Bonaparte the only +thing is to have an armed frontier and a firm policy, and he will +never dare to cross the Russian frontier, as was the case in 1807!" + +"How can we fight the French, Prince?" said Count Rostopchin. "Can +we arm ourselves against our teachers and divinities? Look at our +youths, look at our ladies! The French are our Gods: Paris is our +Kingdom of Heaven." + +He began speaking louder, evidently to be heard by everyone. + +"French dresses, French ideas, French feelings! There now, you +turned Metivier out by the scruff of his neck because he is a +Frenchman and a scoundrel, but our ladies crawl after him on their +knees. I went to a party last night, and there out of five ladies +three were Roman Catholics and had the Pope's indulgence for doing +woolwork on Sundays. And they themselves sit there nearly naked, +like the signboards at our Public Baths if I may say so. Ah, when +one looks at our young people, Prince, one would like to take Peter +the Great's old cudgel out of the museum and belabor them in the +Russian way till all the nonsense jumps out of them." + +All were silent. The old prince looked at Rostopchin with a smile +and wagged his head approvingly. + +"Well, good-by, your excellency, keep well!" said Rostopchin, +getting up with characteristic briskness and holding out his hand to +the prince. + +"Good-by, my dear fellow.... His words are music, I never tire of +hearing him!" said the old prince, keeping hold of the hand and +offering his cheek to be kissed. + +Following Rostopchin's example the others also rose. + +CHAPTER IV + +Princess Mary as she sat listening to the old men's talk and +faultfinding, understood nothing of what she heard; she only +wondered whether the guests had all observed her father's hostile +attitude toward her. She did not even notice the special attentions +and amiabilities shown her during dinner by Boris Drubetskoy, who +was visiting them for the third time already. + +Princess Mary turned with absent-minded questioning look to +Pierre, who hat in hand and with a smile on his face was the last of +the guests to approach her after the old prince had gone out and +they were left alone in the drawing room. + +"May I stay a little longer?" he said, letting his stout body sink +into an armchair beside her. + +"Oh yes," she answered. "You noticed nothing?" her look asked. + +Pierre was in an agreeable after-dinner mood. He looked straight +before him and smiled quietly. + +"Have you known that young man long, Princess?" he asked. + +"Who?" + +"Drubetskoy." + +"No, not long..." + +"Do you like him?" + +"Yes, he is an agreeable young man.... Why do you ask me that?" said +Princess Mary, still thinking of that morning's conversation with +her father. + +"Because I have noticed that when a young man comes on leave from +Petersburg to Moscow it is usually with the object of marrying an +heiress." + +"You have observed that?" said Princess Mary. + +"Yes," returned Pierre with a smile, "and this young man now manages +matters so that where there is a wealthy heiress there he is too. I +can read him like a book. At present he is hesitating whom to lay +siege to- you or Mademoiselle Julie Karagina. He is very attentive +to her." + +"He visits them?" + +"Yes, very often. And do you know the new way of courting?" said +Pierre with an amused smile, evidently in that cheerful mood of good +humored raillery for which he so often reproached himself in his +diary. + +"No," replied Princess Mary. + +"To please Moscow girls nowadays one has to be melancholy. He is +very melancholy with Mademoiselle Karagina," said Pierre. + +"Really?" asked Princess Mary, looking into Pierre's kindly face and +still thinking of her own sorrow. "It would be a relief," thought she, +"if I ventured to confide what I am feeling to someone. I should +like to tell everything to Pierre. He is kind and generous. It would +be a relief. He would give me advice." + +"Would you marry him?" + +"Oh, my God, Count, there are moments when I would marry anybody!" +she cried suddenly to her own surprise and with tears in her voice. +"Ah, how bitter it is to love someone near to you and to feel that..." +she went on in a trembling voice, "that you can do nothing for him but +grieve him, and to know that you cannot alter this. Then there is only +one thing left- to go away, but where could I go?" + +"What is wrong? What is it, Princess?" + +But without finishing what she was saying, Princess Mary burst +into tears. + +"I don't know what is the matter with me today. Don't take any +notice- forget what I have said!" + +Pierre's gaiety vanished completely. He anxiously questioned the +princess, asked her to speak out fully and confide her grief to him; +but she only repeated that she begged him to forget what she had said, +that she did not remember what she had said, and that she had no +trouble except the one he knew of- that Prince Andrew's marriage +threatened to cause a rupture between father and son. + +"Have you any news of the Rostovs?" she asked, to change the +subject. "I was told they are coming soon. I am also expecting +Andrew any day. I should like them to meet here." + +"And how does he now regard the matter?" asked Pierre, referring +to the old prince. + +Princess Mary shook her head. + +"What is to be done? In a few months the year will be up. The +thing is impossible. I only wish I could spare my brother the first +moments. I wish they would come sooner. I hope to be friends with her. +You have known them a long time," said Princess Mary. "Tell me +honestly the whole truth: what sort of girl is she, and what do you +think of her?- The real truth, because you know Andrew is risking so +much doing this against his father's will that I should like to +know..." + +An undefined instinct told Pierre that these explanations, and +repeated requests to be told the whole truth, expressed ill-will on +the princess' part toward her future sister-in-law and a wish that +he should disapprove of Andrew's choice; but in reply he said what +he felt rather than what he thought. + +"I don't know how to answer your question," he said, blushing +without knowing why. "I really don't know what sort of girl she is; +I can't analyze her at all. She is enchanting, but what makes her so I +don't know. That is all one can say about her." + +Princess Mary sighed, and the expression on her face said: "Yes, +that's what I expected and feared." + +"Is she clever?" she asked. + +Pierre considered. + +"I think not," he said, "and yet- yes. She does not deign to be +clever.... Oh no, she is simply enchanting, and that is all." + +Princess Mary again shook her head disapprovingly. + +"Ah, I so long to like her! Tell her so if you see her before I do." + +"I hear they are expected very soon," said Pierre. + +Princess Mary told Pierre of her plan to become intimate with her +future sister-in-law as soon as the Rostovs arrived and to try to +accustom the old prince to her. + +CHAPTER V + +Boris had not succeeded in making a wealthy match in Petersburg, +so with the same object in view he came to Moscow. There he wavered +between the two richest heiresses, Julie and Princess Mary. Though +Princess Mary despite her plainness seemed to him more attractive than +Julie, he, without knowing why, felt awkward about paying court to +her. When they had last met on the old prince's name day, she had +answered at random all his attempts to talk sentimentally, evidently +not listening to what he was saying. + +Julie on the contrary accepted his attentions readily, though in a +manner peculiar to herself. + +She was twenty-seven. After the death of her brothers she had become +very wealthy. She was by now decidedly plain, but thought herself +not merely as good-looking as before but even far more attractive. She +was confirmed in this delusion by the fact that she had become a +very wealthy heiress and also by the fact that the older she grew +the less dangerous she became to men, and the more freely they could +associate with her and avail themselves of her suppers, soirees, and +the animated company that assembled at her house, without incurring +any obligation. A man who would have been afraid ten years before of +going every day to the house when there was a girl of seventeen there, +for fear of compromising her and committing himself, would now go +boldly every day and treat her not as a marriageable girl but as a +sexless acquaintance. + +That winter the Karagins' house was the most agreeable and +hospitable in Moscow. In addition to the formal evening and dinner +parties, a large company, chiefly of men, gathered there every day, +supping at midnight and staying till three in the morning. Julie never +missed a ball, a promenade, or a play. Her dresses were always of +the latest fashion. But in spite of that she seemed to be +disillusioned about everything and told everyone that she did not +believe either in friendship or in love, or any of the joys of life, +and expected peace only "yonder." She adopted the tone of one who +has suffered a great disappointment, like a girl who has either lost +the man she loved or been cruelly deceived by him. Though nothing of +the kind had happened to her she was regarded in that light, and had +even herself come to believe that she had suffered much in life. +This melancholy, which did not prevent her amusing herself, did not +hinder the young people who came to her house from passing the time +pleasantly. Every visitor who came to the house paid his tribute to +the melancholy mood of the hostess, and then amused himself with +society gossip, dancing, intellectual games, and bouts rimes, which +were in vogue at the Karagins'. Only a few of these young men, among +them Boris, entered more deeply into Julie's melancholy, and with +these she had prolonged conversations in private on the vanity of +all worldly things, and to them she showed her albums filled with +mournful sketches, maxims, and verses. + +To Boris, Julie was particularly gracious: she regretted his early +disillusionment with life, offered him such consolation of +friendship as she who had herself suffered so much could render, and +showed him her album. Boris sketched two trees in the album and wrote: +"Rustic trees, your dark branches shed gloom and melancholy upon me." + +On another page he drew a tomb, and wrote: + +_1 La mort est secourable et la mort est tranquille.<br> +Ah! contre les douleurs il n'y a pas d'autre asile.~^ + +^~ Death gives relief and death is peaceful. + +_1 Ah! from suffering there is no other refuge. + +Julia said this was charming + +"There is something so enchanting in the smile of melancholy," she +said to Boris, repeating word for word a passage she had copied from a +book. "It is a ray of light in the darkness, a shade between sadness +and despair, showing the possibility of consolation." + +In reply Boris wrote these lines: + +_1 Aliment de poison d'une ame trop sensible,<br> +Toi, sans qui le bonheur me serait impossible,<br> +Tendre melancholie, ah, viens me consoler,<br> +Viens calmer les tourments de ma sombre retraite,<br> +Et mele une douceur secrete<br> +A ces pleurs que je sens couler.~^ + +^~ Poisonous nourishment of a too sensitive soul, + +_1 Thou, without whom happiness would for me be impossible, + +_1 Tender melancholy, ah, come to console me, + +_1 Come to calm the torments of my gloomy retreat, + +_1 And mingle a secret sweetness + +_1 With these tears that I feel to be flowing. + +For Boris, Julie played most doleful nocturnes on her harp. Boris +read Poor Liza aloud to her, and more than once interrupted the +reading because of the emotions that choked him. Meeting at large +gatherings Julie and Boris looked on one another as the only souls who +understood one another in a world of indifferent people. + +Anna Mikhaylovna, who often visited the Karagins, while playing +cards with the mother made careful inquiries as to Julie's dowry +(she was to have two estates in Penza and the Nizhegorod forests). +Anna Mikhaylovna regarded the refined sadness that united her son to +the wealthy Julie with emotion, and resignation to the Divine will. + +"You are always charming and melancholy, my dear Julie," she said to +the daughter. "Boris says his soul finds repose at your house. He +has suffered so many disappointments and is so sensitive," said she to +the mother. "Ah, my dear, I can't tell you how fond I have grown of +Julie latterly," she said to her son. "But who could help loving +her? She is an angelic being! Ah, Boris, Boris!"- she paused. "And how +I pity her mother," she went on; "today she showed me her accounts and +letters from Penza (they have enormous estates there), and she, poor +thing, has no one to help her, and they do cheat her so!" + +Boris smiled almost imperceptibly while listening to his mother. +He laughed blandly at her naive diplomacy but listened to what she had +to say, and sometimes questioned her carefully about the Penza and +Nizhegorod estates. + +Julie had long been expecting a proposal from her melancholy +adorer and was ready to accept it; but some secret feeling of +repulsion for her, for her passionate desire to get married, for her +artificiality, and a feeling of horror at renouncing the possibility +of real love still restrained Boris. His leave was expiring. He +spent every day and whole days at the Karagins', and every day on +thinking the matter over told himself that he would propose +tomorrow. But in Julie's presence, looking at her red face and chin +(nearly always powdered), her moist eyes, and her expression of +continual readiness to pass at once from melancholy to an unnatural +rapture of married bliss, Boris could not utter the decisive words, +though in imagination he had long regarded himself as the possessor of +those Penza and Nizhegorod estates and had apportioned the use of +the income from them. Julie saw Boris' indecision, and sometimes the +thought occurred to her that she was repulsive to him, but her +feminine self-deception immediately supplied her with consolation, and +she told herself that he was only shy from love. Her melancholy, +however, began to turn to irritability, and not long before Boris' +departure she formed a definite plan of action. Just as Boris' leave +of absence was expiring, Anatole Kuragin made his appearance in +Moscow, and of course in the Karagins' drawing room, and Julie, +suddenly abandoning her melancholy, became cheerful and very attentive +to Kuragin. + +"My dear," said Anna Mikhaylovna to her son, "I know from a reliable +source that Prince Vasili has sent his son to Moscow to get him +married to Julie. I am so fond of Julie that I should be sorry for +her. What do you think of it, my dear?" + +The idea of being made a fool of and of having thrown away that +whole month of arduous melancholy service to Julie, and of seeing +all the revenue from the Penza estates which he had already mentally +apportioned and put to proper use fall into the hands of another, +and especially into the hands of that idiot Anatole, pained Boris. +He drove to the Karagins' with the firm intention of proposing. +Julie met him in a gay, careless manner, spoke casually of how she had +enjoyed yesterday's ball, and asked when he was leaving. Though +Boris had come intentionally to speak of his love and therefore +meant to be tender, he began speaking irritably of feminine +inconstancy, of how easily women can turn from sadness to joy, and how +their moods depend solely on who happens to be paying court to them. +Julie was offended and replied that it was true that a woman needs +variety, and the same thing over and over again would weary anyone. + +"Then I should advise you..." Boris began, wishing to sting her; but +at that instant the galling thought occurred to him that he might have +to leave Moscow without having accomplished his aim, and have vainly +wasted his efforts- which was a thing he never allowed to happen. + +He checked himself in the middle of the sentence, lowered his eyes +to avoid seeing her unpleasantly irritated and irresolute face, and +said: + +"I did not come here at all to quarrel with you. On the contrary..." + +He glanced at her to make sure that he might go on. Her irritability +had suddenly quite vanished, and her anxious, imploring eyes were +fixed on him with greedy expectation. "I can always arrange so as +not to see her often," thought Boris. "The affair has been begun and +must be finished!" He blushed hotly, raised his eyes to hers, and +said: + +"You know my feelings for you!" + +There was no need to say more: Julie's face shone with triumph and +self-satisfaction; but she forced Boris to say all that is said on +such occasions- that he loved her and had never loved any other +woman more than her. She knew that for the Penza estates and +Nizhegorod forests she could demand this, and she received what she +demanded. + +The affianced couple, no longer alluding to trees that shed gloom +and melancholy upon them, planned the arrangements of a splendid house +in Petersburg, paid calls, and prepared everything for a brilliant +wedding. + +CHAPTER VI + +At the end of January old Count Rostov went to Moscow with Natasha +and Sonya. The countess was still unwell and unable to travel but it +was impossible to wait for her recovery. Prince Andrew was expected in +Moscow any day, the trousseau had to be ordered and the estate near +Moscow had to be sold, besides which the opportunity of presenting his +future daughter-in-law to old Prince Bolkonski while he was in +Moscow could not be missed. The Rostovs' Moscow house had not been +heated that winter and, as they had come only for a short time and the +countess was not with them, the count decided to stay with Marya +Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, who had long been pressing her hospitality +on them. + +Late one evening the Rostovs' four sleighs drove into Marya +Dmitrievna's courtyard in the old Konyusheny street. Marya +Dmitrievna lived alone. She had already married off her daughter, +and her sons were all in the service. + +She held herself as erect, told everyone her opinion as candidly, +loudly, and bluntly as ever, and her whole bearing seemed a reproach +to others for any weakness, passion, or temptation- the possibility of +which she did not admit. From early in the morning, wearing a dressing +jacket, she attended to her household affairs, and then she drove out: +on holy days to church and after the service to jails and prisons on +affairs of which she never spoke to anyone. On ordinary days, after +dressing, she received petitioners of various classes, of whom there +were always some. Then she had dinner, a substantial and appetizing +meal at which there were always three or four guests; after dinner she +played a game of boston, and at night she had the newspapers or a +new book read to her while she knitted. She rarely made an exception +and went out to pay visits, and then only to the most important +persons in the town. + +She had not yet gone to bed when the Rostovs arrived and the +pulley of the hall door squeaked from the cold as it let in the +Rostovs and their servants. Marya Dmitrievna, with her spectacles +hanging down on her nose and her head flung back, stood in the hall +doorway looking with a stern, grim face at the new arrivals. One might +have thought she was angry with the travelers and would immediately +turn them out, had she not at the same time been giving careful +instructions to the servants for the accommodation of the visitors and +their belongings. + +"The count's things? Bring them here," she said, pointing to the +portmanteaus and not greeting anyone. "The young ladies'? There to the +left. Now what are you dawdling for?" she cried to the maids. "Get the +samovar ready!... You've grown plumper and prettier," she remarked, +drawing Natasha (whose cheeks were glowing from the cold) to her by +the hood. "Foo! You are cold! Now take off your things, quick!" she +shouted to the count who was going to kiss her hand. "You're half +frozen, I'm sure! Bring some rum for tea!... Bonjour, Sonya dear!" she +added, turning to Sonya and indicating by this French greeting her +slightly contemptuous though affectionate attitude toward her. + +When they came in to tea, having taken off their outdoor things +and tidied themselves up after their journey, Marya Dmitrievna +kissed them all in due order. + +"I'm heartily glad you have come and are staying with me. It was +high time," she said, giving Natasha a significant look. "The old +man is here and his son's expected any day. You'll have to make his +aquaintance. But we'll speak of that later on," she added, glancing at +Sonya with a look that showed she did not want to speak of it in her +presence. "Now listen," she said to the count. "What do you want +tomorrow? Whom will you send for? Shinshin?" she crooked one of her +fingers. "The sniveling Anna Mikhaylovna? That's two. She's here +with her son. The son is getting married! Then Bezukhov, eh? He is +here too, with his wife. He ran away from her and she came galloping +after him. He dined with me on Wednesday. As for them"- and she +pointed to the girls- "tomorrow I'll take them first to the Iberian +shrine of the Mother of God, and then we'll drive to the +Super-Rogue's. I suppose you'll have everything new. Don't judge by +me: sleeves nowadays are this size! The other day young Princess Irina +Vasilevna came to see me; she was an awful sight- looked as if she had +put two barrels on her arms. You know not a day passes now without +some new fashion.... And what have you to do yourself?" she asked +the count sternly. + +"One thing has come on top of another: her rags to buy, and now a +purchaser has turned up for the Moscow estate and for the house. If +you will be so kind, I'll fix a time and go down to the estate just +for a day, and leave my lassies with you." + +"All right. All right. They'll be safe with me, as safe as in +Chancery! I'll take them where they must go, scold them a bit, and pet +them a bit," said Marya Dmitrievna, touching her goddaughter and +favorite, Natasha, on the cheek with her large hand. + +Next morning Marya Dmitrievna took the young ladies to the Iberian +shrine of the Mother of God and to Madame Suppert-Roguet, who was so +afraid of Marya Dmitrievna that she always let her have costumes at +a loss merely to get rid of her. Marya Dmitrievna ordered almost the +whole trousseau. When they got home she turned everybody out of the +room except Nataisha, and then called her pet to her armchair. + +"Well, now we'll talk. I congratulate you on your betrothed. +You've hooked a fine fellow! I am glad for your sake and I've known +him since he was so high." She held her hand a couple of feet from the +ground. Natasha blushed happily. "I like him and all his family. Now +listen! You know that old Prince Nicholas much dislikes his son's +marrying. The old fellow's crotchety! Of course Prince Andrew is not a +child and can shift without him, but it's not nice to enter a family +against a father's will. One wants to do it peacefully and lovingly. +You're a clever girl and you'll know how to manage. Be kind, and use +your wits. Then all will be well." + +Natasha remained silent, from shyness Marya Dmitrievna supposed, but +really because she disliked anyone interfering in what touched her +love of Prince Andrew, which seemed to her so apart from all human +affairs that no one could understand it. She loved and knew Prince +Andrew, he loved her only, and was to come one of these days and +take her. She wanted nothing more. + +"You see I have known him a long time and am also fond of Mary, your +future sister-in-law. 'Husbands' sisters bring up blisters,' but +this one wouldn't hurt a fly. She has asked me to bring you two +together. Tomorrow you'll go with your father to see her. Be very nice +and affectionate to her: you're younger than she. When he comes, he'll +find you already know his sister and father and are liked by them. +Am I right or not? Won't that be best?" + +"Yes, it will," Natasha answered reluctantly. + +CHAPTER VII + +Next day, by Marya Dmitrievna's advice, Count Rostov took Natasha to +call on Prince Nicholas Bolkonski. The count did not set out +cheerfully on this visit, at heart he felt afraid. He well +remembered the last interview he had had with the old prince at the +time of the enrollment, when in reply to an invitation to dinner he +had had to listen to an angry reprimand for not having provided his +full quota of men. Natasha, on the other hand, having put on her +best gown, was in the highest spirits. "They can't help liking me," +she thought. "Everybody always has liked me, and I am so willing to do +anything they wish, so ready to be fond of him- for being his +father- and of her- for being his sister- that there is no reason +for them not to like me..." + +They drove up to the gloomy old house on the Vozdvizhenka and +entered the vestibule. + +"Well, the Lord have mercy on us!" said the count, half in jest, +half in earnest; but Natasha noticed that her father was flurried on +entering the anteroom and inquired timidly and softly whether the +prince and princess were at home. + +When they had been announced a perturbation was noticeable among the +servants. The footman who had gone to announce them was stopped by +another in the large hall and they whispered to one another. Then a +maidservant ran into the hall and hurriedly said something, mentioning +the princess. At last an old, cross looking footman came and announced +to the Rostovs that the prince was not receiving, but that the +princess begged them to walk up. The first person who came to meet the +visitors was Mademoiselle Bourienne. She greeted the father and +daughter with special politeness and showed them to the princess' +room. The princess, looking excited and nervous, her face flushed in +patches, ran in to meet the visitors, treading heavily, and vainly +trying to appear cordial and at ease. From the first glance Princess +Mary did not like Natasha. She thought her too fashionably dressed, +frivolously gay and vain. She did not at all realize that before +having seen her future sister-in-law she was prejudiced against her by +involuntary envy of her beauty, youth, and happiness, as well as by +jealousy of her brother's love for her. Apart from this insuperable +antipathy to her, Princess Mary was agitated just then because on +the Rostovs' being announced, the old prince had shouted that he did +not wish to see them, that Princess Mary might do so if she chose, but +they were not to be admitted to him. She had decided to receive +them, but feared lest the prince might at any moment indulge in some +freak, as he seemed much upset by the Rostovs' visit. + +"There, my dear princess, I've brought you my songstress," said +the count, bowing and looking round uneasily as if afraid the old +prince might appear. "I am so glad you should get to know one +another... very sorry the prince is still ailing," and after a few +more commonplace remarks he rose. "If you'll allow me to leave my +Natasha in your hands for a quarter of an hour, Princess, I'll drive +round to see Anna Semenovna, it's quite near in the Dogs' Square, +and then I'll come back for her." + +The count had devised this diplomatic ruse (as he afterwards told +his daughter) to give the future sisters-in-law an opportunity to talk +to one another freely, but another motive was to avoid the danger of +encountering the old prince, of whom he was afraid. He did not mention +this to his daughter, but Natasha noticed her father's nervousness and +anxiety and felt mortified by it. She blushed for him, grew still +angrier at having blushed, and looked at the princess with a bold +and defiant expression which said that she was not afraid of +anybody. The princess told the count that she would be delighted, +and only begged him to stay longer at Anna Semenovna's, and he +departed. + +Despite the uneasy glances thrown at her by Princess Mary- who +wished to have a tete-a-tete with Natasha- Mademoiselle Bourienne +remained in the room and persistently talked about Moscow amusements +and theaters. Natasha felt offended by the hesitation she had +noticed in the anteroom, by her father's nervousness, and by the +unnatural manner of the princess who- she thought- was making a +favor of receiving her, and so everything displeased her. She did +not like Princess Mary, whom she thought very plain, affected, and +dry. Natasha suddenly shrank into herself and involuntarily assumed an +offhand air which alienated Princess Mary still more. After five +minutes of irksome, constrained conversation, they heard the sound +of slippered feet rapidly approaching. Princess Mary looked +frightened. + +The door opened and the old prince, in a dress, ing gown and a white +nightcap, came in. + +"Ah, madam!" he began. "Madam, Countess... Countess Rostova, if I am +not mistaken... I beg you to excuse me, to excuse me... I did not +know, madam. God is my witness, I did not know you had honored us with +a visit, and I came in such a costume only to see my daughter. I beg +you to excuse me... God is my witness, I didn't know-" he repeated, +stressing the word "God" so unnaturally and so unpleasantly that +Princess Mary stood with downcast eyes not daring to look either at +her father or at Natasha. + +Nor did the latter, having risen and curtsied, know what to do. +Mademoiselle Bourienne alone smiled agreeably. + +"I beg you to excuse me, excuse me! God is my witness, I did not +know," muttered the old man, and after looking Natasha over from +head to foot he went out. + +Mademoiselle Bourienne was the first to recover herself after this +apparition and began speaking about the prince's indisposition. +Natasha and Princess Mary looked at one another in silence, and the +longer they did so without saying what they wanted to say, the greater +grew their antipathy to one another. + +When the count returned, Natasha was impolitely pleased and hastened +to get away: at that moment she hated the stiff, elderly princess, who +could place her in such an embarrassing position and had spent half an +hour with her without once mentioning Prince Andrew. "I couldn't begin +talking about him in the presence of that Frenchwoman," thought +Natasha. The same thought was meanwhile tormenting Princess Mary. +She knew what she ought to have said to Natasha, but she had been +unable to say it because Mademoiselle Bourienne was in the way, and +because, without knowing why, she felt it very difficult to speak of +the marriage. When the count was already leaving the room, Princess +Mary went up hurriedly to Natasha, took her by the hand, and said with +a deep sigh: + +"Wait, I must..." + +Natasha glanced at her ironically without knowing why. + +"Dear Natalie," said Princess Mary, "I want you to know that I am +glad my brother has found happiness...." + +She paused, feeling that she was not telling the truth. Natasha +noticed this and guessed its reason. + +"I think, Princess, it is not convenient to speak of that now," +she said with external dignity and coldness, though she felt the tears +choking her. + +"What have I said and what have I done?" thought she, as soon as she +was out of the room. + +They waited a long time for Natasha to come to dinner that day. +She sat in her room crying like a child, blowing her nose and sobbing. +Sonya stood beside her, kissing her hair. + +"Natasha, what is it about?" she asked. "What do they matter to you? +It will all pass, Natasha." + +"But if you only knew how offensive it was... as if I..." + +"Don't talk about it, Natasha. It wasn't your fault so why should +you mind? Kiss me," said Sonya. + +Natasha raised her head and, kissing her friend on the lips, pressed +her wet face against her. + +"I can't tell you, I don't know. No one's to blame," said Natasha- +"It's my fault. But it all hurts terribly. Oh, why doesn't he +come?..." + +She came in to dinner with red eyes. Marya Dmitrievna, who knew +how the prince had received the Rostovs, pretended not to notice how +upset Natasha was and jested resolutely and loudly at table with the +count and the other guests. + +CHAPTER VIII + +That evening the Rostovs went to the Opera, for which Marya +Dmitrievna had taken a box. + +Natasha did not want to go, but could not refuse Marya +Dmitrievna's kind offer which was intended expressly for her. When she +came ready dressed into the ballroom to await her father, and +looking in the large mirror there saw that she was pretty, very +pretty, she felt even more sad, but it was a sweet, tender sadness. + +"O God, if he were here now I would not behave as I did then, but +differently. I would not be silly and afraid of things, I would simply +embrace him, cling to him, and make him look at me with those +searching inquiring eyes with which he has so often looked at me, +and then I would make him laugh as he used to laugh. And his eyes- how +I see those eyes!" thought Natasha. "And what do his father and sister +matter to me? I love him alone, him, him, with that face and those +eyes, with his smile, manly and yet childlike.... No, I had better not +think of him; not think of him but forget him, quite forget him for +the present. I can't bear this waiting and I shall cry in a minute!" +and she turned away from the glass, making an effort not to cry. +"And how can Sonya love Nicholas so calmly and quietly and wait so +long and so patiently?" thought she, looking at Sonya, who also came +in quite ready, with a fan in her hand. "No, she's altogether +different. I can't!" + +Natasha at that moment felt so softened and tender that it was not +enough for her to love and know she was beloved, she wanted now, at +once, to embrace the man she loved, to speak and hear from him words +of love such as filled her heart. While she sat in the carriage beside +her father, pensively watching the lights of the street lamps +flickering on the frozen window, she felt still sadder and more in +love, and forgot where she was going and with whom. Having fallen into +the line of carriages, the Rostovs' carriage drove up to the +theater, its wheels squeaking over the snow. Natasha and Sonya, +holding up their dresses, jumped out quickly. The count got out helped +by the footmen, and, passing among men and women who were entering and +the program sellers, they all three went along the corridor to the +first row of boxes. Through the closed doors the music was already +audible. + +"Natasha, your hair!..." whispered Sonya. + +An attendant deferentially and quickly slipped before the ladies and +opened the door of their box. The music sounded louder and through the +door rows of brightly lit boxes in which ladies sat with bare arms and +shoulders, and noisy stalls brilliant with uniforms, glittered +before their eyes. A lady entering the next box shot a glance of +feminine envy at Natasha. The curtain had not yet risen and the +overture was being played. Natasha, smoothing her gown, went in with +Sonya and sat down, scanning the brilliant tiers of boxes opposite. +A sensation she had not experienced for a long time- that of +hundreds of eyes looking at her bare arms and neck- suddenly +affected her both agreeably and disagreeably and called up a whole +crowd of memories, desires and emotions associated with that feeling. + +The two remarkably pretty girls, Natasha and Sonya, with Count +Rostov who had not been seen in Moscow for a long time, attracted +general attention. Moreover, everybody knew vaguely of Natasha's +engagement to Prince Andrew, and knew that the Rostovs had lived in +the country ever since, and all looked with curiosity at a fiancee who +was making one of the best matches in Russia. + +Natasha's looks, as everyone told her, had improved in the +country, and that evening thanks to her agitation she was particularly +pretty. She struck those who saw her by her fullness of life and +beauty, combined with her indifference to everything about her. Her +black eyes looked at the crowd without seeking anyone, and her +delicate arm, bare to above the elbow, lay on the velvet edge of the +box, while, evidently unconsciously, she opened and closed her hand in +time to the music, crumpling her program. "Look, there's Alenina," +said Sonya, "with her mother, isn't it?" + +"Dear me, Michael Kirilovich has grown still stouter!" remarked +the count. + +"Look at our Anna Mikhaylovna- what a headdress she has on!" + +"The Karagins, Julie- and Boris with them. One can see at once +that they're engaged...." + +"Drubetskoy has proposed?" + +"Oh yes, I heard it today," said Shinshin, coming into the +Rostovs' box. + +Natasha looked in the direction in which her father's eyes were +turned and saw Julie sitting beside her mother with a happy look on +her face and a string of pearls round her thick red neck- which +Natasha knew was covered with powder. Behind them, wearing a smile and +leaning over with an ear to Julie's mouth, was Boris' handsome +smoothly brushed head. He looked the Rostovs from under his brows +and said something, smiling, to his betrothed. + +"They are talking about us, about me and him!" thought Natasha. "And +he no doubt is calming her jealousy of me. They needn't trouble +themselves! If only they knew how little I am concerned about any of +them." + +Behind them sat Anna Mikhaylovna wearing a green headdress and +with a happy look of resignation to the will of God on her face. Their +box was pervaded by that atmosphere of an affianced couple which +Natasha knew so well and liked so much. She turned away and suddenly +remembered all that had been so humiliating in her morning's visit. + +"What right has he not to wish to receive me into his family? Oh, +better not think of it- not till he comes back!" she told herself, and +began looking at the faces, some strange and some familiar, in the +stalls. In the front, in the very center, leaning back against the +orchestra rail, stood Dolokhov in a Persian dress, his curly hair +brushed up into a huge shock. He stood in full view of the audience, +well aware that he was attracting everyone's attention, yet as much at +ease as though he were in his own room. Around him thronged Moscow's +most brilliant young men, whom he evidently dominated. + +The count, laughing, nudged the blushing Sonya and pointed to her +former adorer. + +"Do you recognize him?" said he. "And where has he sprung from?" +he asked, turning to Shinshin. "Didn't he vanish somewhere?" + +"He did," replied Shinshin. "He was in the Caucasus and ran away +from there. They say he has been acting as minister to some ruling +prince in Persia, where he killed the Shah's brother. Now all the +Moscow ladies are mad about him! It's 'Dolokhov the Persian' that does +it! We never hear a word but Dolokhov is mentioned. They swear by him, +they offer him to you as they would a dish of choice sterlet. Dolokhov +and Anatole Kuragin have turned all our ladies' heads." + +A tall, beautiful woman with a mass of plaited hair and much exposed +plump white shoulders and neck, round which she wore a double string +of large pearls, entered the adjoining box rustling her heavy silk +dress and took a long time settling into her place. + +Natasha involuntarily gazed at that neck, those shoulders, and +pearls and coiffure, and admired the beauty of the shoulders and the +pearls. While Natasha was fixing her gaze on her for the second time +the lady looked round and, meeting the count's eyes, nodded to him and +smiled. She was the Countess Bezukhova, Pierre's wife, and the +count, who knew everyone in society, leaned over and spoke to her. + +"Have you been here long, Countess?" he inquired. "I'll call, I'll +call to kiss your hand. I'm here on business and have brought my girls +with me. They say Semenova acts marvelously. Count Pierre never used +to forget us. Is he here?" + +"Yes, he meant to look in," answered Helene, and glanced attentively +at Natasha. + +Count Rostov resumed his seat. + +"Handsome, isn't she?" he whispered to Natasha. + +"Wonderful!" answered Natasha. "She's a woman one could easily +fall in love with." + +Just then the last chords of the overture were heard and the +conductor tapped with his stick. Some latecomers took their seats in +the stalls, and the curtain rose. + +As soon as it rose everyone in the boxes and stalls became silent, +and all the men, old and young, in uniform and evening dress, and +all the women with gems on their bare flesh, turned their whole +attention with eager curiosity to the stage. Natasha too began to look +at it. + +CHAPTER IX + +The floor of the stage consisted of smooth boards, at the sides +was some painted cardboard representing trees, and at the back was a +cloth stretched over boards. In the center of the stage sat some girls +in red bodices and white skirts. One very fat girl in a white silk +dress sat apart on a low bench, to the back of which a piece of +green cardboard was glued. They all sang something. When they had +finished their song the girl in white went up to the prompter's box +and a man with tight silk trousers over his stout legs, and holding +a plume and a dagger, went up to her and began singing, waving his +arms about. + +First the man in the tight trousers sang alone, then she sang, +then they both paused while the orchestra played and the man +fingered the hand of the girl in white, obviously awaiting the beat to +start singing with her. They sang together and everyone in the theater +began clapping and shouting, while the man and woman on the stage- who +represented lovers- began smiling, spreading out their arms, and +bowing. + +After her life in the country, and in her present serious mood, +all this seemed grotesque and amazing to Natasha. She could not follow +the opera nor even listen to the music; she saw only the painted +cardboard and the queerly dressed men and women who moved, spoke, +and sang so strangely in that brilliant light. She knew what it was +all meant to represent, but it was so pretentiously false and +unnatural that she first felt ashamed for the actors and then amused +at them. She looked at the faces of the audience, seeking in them +the same sense of ridicule and perplexity she herself experienced, but +they all seemed attentive to what was happening on the stage, and +expressed delight which to Natasha seemed feigned. "I suppose it has +to be like this!" she thought. She kept looking round in turn at the +rows of pomaded heads in the stalls and then at the seminude women +in the boxes, especially at Helene in the next box, who- apparently +quite unclothed- sat with a quiet tranquil smile, not taking her +eyes off the stage. And feeling the bright light that flooded the +whole place and the warm air heated by the crowd, Natasha little by +little began to pass into a state of intoxication she had not +experienced for a long while. She did not realize who and where she +was, nor what was going on before her. As she looked and thought, +the strangest fancies unexpectedly and disconnectedly passed through +her mind: the idea occurred to her of jumping onto the edge of the box +and singing the air the actress was singing, then she wished to +touch with her fan an old gentleman sitting not far from her, then +to lean over to Helene and tickle her. + +At a moment when all was quiet before the commencement of a song, +a door leading to the stalls on the side nearest the Rostovs' box +creaked, and the steps of a belated arrival were heard. "There's +Kuragin!" whispered Shinshin. Countess Bezukhova turned smiling to the +newcomer, and Natasha, following the direction of that look, saw an +exceptionally handsome adjutant approaching their box with a +self-assured yet courteous bearing. This was Anatole Kuragin whom +she had seen and noticed long ago at the ball in Petersburg. He was +now in an adjutant's uniform with one epaulet and a shoulder knot. +He moved with a restrained swagger which would have been ridiculous +had he not been so good-looking and had his handsome face not worn +such an expression of good-humored complacency and gaiety. Though +the performance was proceeding, he walked deliberately down the +carpeted gangway, his sword and spurs slightly jingling and his +handsome perfumed head held high. Having looked at Natasha he +approached his sister, laid his well gloved hand on the edge of her +box, nodded to her, and leaning forward asked a question, with a +motion toward Natasha. + +"Mais charmante!" said he, evidently referring to Natasha, who did +not exactly hear his words but understood them from the movement of +his lips. Then he took his place in the first row of the stalls and +sat down beside Dolokhov, nudging with his elbow in a friendly and +offhand way that Dolokhov whom others treated so fawningly. He +winked at him gaily, smiled, and rested his foot against the orchestra +screen. + +"How like the brother is to the sister," remarked the count. "And +how handsome they both are!" + +Shinshin, lowering his voice, began to tell the count of some +intrigue of Kuragin's in Moscow, and Natasha tried to overhear it just +because he had said she was "charmante." + +The first act was over. In the stalls everyone began moving about, +going out and coming in. + +Boris came to the Rostovs' box, received their congratulations +very simply, and raising his eyebrows with an absent-minded smile +conveyed to Natasha and Sonya his fiancee's invitation to her wedding, +and went away. Natasha with a gay, coquettish smile talked to him, and +congratulated on his approaching wedding that same Boris with whom she +had formerly been in love. In the state of intoxication she was in, +everything seemed simple and natural. + +The scantily clad Helene smiled at everyone in the same way, and +Natasha gave Boris a similar smile. + +Helene's box was filled and surrounded from the stalls by the most +distinguished and intellectual men, who seemed to vie with one another +in their wish to let everyone see that they knew her. + +During the whole of that entr'acte Kuragin stood with Dolokhov in +front of the orchestra partition, looking at the Rostovs' box. Natasha +knew he was talking about her and this afforded her pleasure. She even +turned so that he should see her profile in what she thought was its +most becoming aspect. Before the beginning of the second act Pierre +appeared in the stalls. The Rostovs had not seen him since their +arrival. His face looked sad, and he had grown still stouter since +Natasha last saw him. He passed up to the front rows, not noticing +anyone. Anatole went up to him and began speaking to him, looking at +and indicating the Rostovs' box. On seeing Natasha Pierre grew +animated and, hastily passing between the rows, came toward their box. +When he got there he leaned on his elbows and, smiling, talked to +her for a long time. While conversing with Pierre, Natasha heard a +man's voice in Countess Bezukhova's box and something told her it +was Kuragin. She turned and their eyes met. Almost smiling, he gazed +straight into her eyes with such an enraptured caressing look that +it seemed strange to be so near him, to look at him like that, to be +so sure he admired her, and not to be acquainted with him. + +In the second act there was scenery representing tombstones, there +was a round hole in the canvas to represent the moon, shades were +raised over the footlights, and from horns and contrabass came deep +notes while many people appeared from right and left wearing black +cloaks and holding things like daggers in their hands. They began +waving their arms. Then some other people ran in and began dragging +away the maiden who had been in white and was now in light blue. +They did not drag her away at once, but sang with her for a long +time and then at last dragged her off, and behind the scenes something +metallic was struck three times and everyone knelt down and sang a +prayer. All these things were repeatedly interrupted by the +enthusiastic shouts of the audience. + +During this act every time Natasha looked toward the stalls she +saw Anatole Kuragin with an arm thrown across the back of his chair, +staring at her. She was pleased to see that he was captivated by her +and it did not occur to her that there was anything wrong in it. + +When the second act was over Countess Bezukhova rose, turned to +the Rostovs' box- her whole bosom completely exposed- beckoned the old +count with a gloved finger, and paying no attention to those who had +entered her box began talking to him with an amiable smile. + +"Do make me acquainted with your charming daughters," said she. "The +whole town is singing their praises and I don't even know then!" + +Natasha rose and curtsied to the splendid countess. She was so +pleased by praise from this brilliant beauty that she blushed with +pleasure. + +"I want to become a Moscovite too, now," said Helene. "How is it +you're not ashamed to bury such pearls in the country?" + +Countess Bezukhova quite deserved her reputation of being a +fascinating woman. She could say what she did not think- especially +what was flattering- quite simply and naturally. + +"Dear count, you must let me look after your daughters! Though I +am not staying here long this time- nor are you- I will try to amuse +them. I have already heard much of you in Petersburg and wanted to get +to know you," said she to Natasha with her stereotyped and lovely +smile. "I had heard about you from my page, Drubetskoy. Have you heard +he is getting married? And also from my husband's friend Bolkonski, +Prince Andrew Bolkonski," she went on with special emphasis, +implying that she knew of his relation to Natasha. To get better +acquainted she asked that one of the young ladies should come into her +box for the rest of the performance, and Natasha moved over to it. + +The scene of the third act represented a palace in which many +candles were burning and pictures of knights with short beards hung on +the walls. In the middle stood what were probably a king and a +queen. The king waved his right arm and, evidently nervous, sang +something badly and sat down on a crimson throne. The maiden who had +been first in white and then in light blue, now wore only a smock, and +stood beside the throne with her hair down. She sang something +mournfully, addressing the queen, but the king waved his arm severely, +and men and women with bare legs came in from both sides and began +dancing all together. Then the violins played very shrilly and merrily +and one of the women with thick bare legs and thin arms, separating +from the others, went behind the wings, adjusted her bodice, +returned to the middle of the stage, and began jumping and striking +one foot rapidly against the other. In the stalls everyone clapped and +shouted "bravo!" Then one of the men went into a corner of the +stage. The cymbals and horns in the orchestra struck up more loudly, +and this man with bare legs jumped very high and waved his feet +about very rapidly. (He was Duport, who received sixty thousand rubles +a year for this art.) Everybody in the stalls, boxes, and galleries +began clapping and shouting with all their might, and the man +stopped and began smiling and bowing to all sides. Then other men +and women danced with bare legs. Then the king again shouted to the +sound of music, and they all began singing. But suddenly a storm +came on, chromatic scales and diminished sevenths were heard in the +orchestra, everyone ran off, again dragging one of their number +away, and the curtain dropped. Once more there was a terrible noise +and clatter among the audience, and with rapturous faces everyone +began shouting: "Duport! Duport! Duport!" Natasha no longer thought +this strange. She look about with pleasure, smiling joyfully. + +"Isn't Duport delightful?" Helene asked her. + +"Oh, yes," replied Natasha. + +CHAPTER X + +During the entr'acte a whiff of cold air came into Helene's box, the +door opened, and Anatole entered, stooping and trying not to brush +against anyone. + +"Let me introduce my brother to you," said Helene, her eyes shifting +uneasily from Natasha to Anatole. + +Natasha turned her pretty little head toward the elegant young +officer and smiled at him over her bare shoulder. Anatole, who was +as handsome at close quarters as at a distance, sat down beside her +and told her he had long wished to have this happiness- ever since the +Naryshkins' ball in fact, at which he had had the well-remembered +pleasure of seeing her. Kuragin was much more sensible and simple with +women than among men. He talked boldly and naturally, and Natasha +was strangely and agreeably struck by the fact that there was +nothing formidable in this man about whom there was so much talk, +but that on the contrary his smile was most naive, cheerful, and +good-natured. + +Kuragin asked her opinion of the performance and told her how at a +previous performance Semenova had fallen down on the stage. + +"And do you know, Countess," he said, suddenly addressing her as +an old, familiar acquaintance, "we are getting up a costume +tournament; you ought to take part in it! It will be great fun. We +shall all meet at the Karagins'! Please come! No! Really, eh?" said +he. + +While saying this he never removed his smiling eyes from her face, +her neck, and her bare arms. Natasha knew for certain that he was +enraptured by her. This pleased her, yet his presence made her feel +constrained and oppressed. When she was not looking at him she felt +that he was looking at her shoulders, and she involuntarily caught his +eye so that he should look into hers rather than this. But looking +into his eyes she was frightened, realizing that there was not that +barrier of modesty she had always felt between herself and other +men. She did not know how it was that within five minutes she had come +to feel herself terribly near to this man. When she turned away she +feared he might seize her from behind by her bare arm and kiss her +on the neck. They spoke of most ordinary things, yet she felt that +they were closer to one another than she had ever been to any man. +Natasha kept turning to Helene and to her father, as if asking what it +all meant, but Helene was engaged in conversation with a general and +did not answer her look, and her father's eyes said nothing but what +they always said: "Having a good time? Well, I'm glad of it!" + +During one of these moments of awkward silence when Anatole's +prominent eyes were gazing calmly and fixedly at her, Natasha, to +break the silence, asked him how he liked Moscow. She asked the +question and blushed. She felt all the time that by talking to him she +was doing something improper. Anatole smiled as though to encourage +her. + +"At first I did not like it much, because what makes a town pleasant +ce sont les jolies femmes,~^ isn't that so? But now I like it very much +indeed," he said, looking at her significantly. "You'll come to the +costume tournament, Countess? Do come!" and putting out his hand to +her bouquet and dropping his voice, he added, "You will be the +prettiest there. Do come, dear countess, and give me this flower as +a pledge!" + +^~ Are the pretty women. + +Natasha did not understand what he was saying any more than he did +himself, but she felt that his incomprehensible words had an +improper intention. She did not know what to say and turned away as if +she had not heard his remark. But as soon as she had turned away she +felt that he was there, behind, so close behind her. + +"How is he now? Confused? Angry? Ought I to put it right?" she asked +herself, and she could not refrain from turning round. She looked +straight into his eyes, and his nearness, self-assurance, and the +good-natured tenderness of his smile vanquished her. She smiled just +as he was doing, gazing straight into his eyes. And again she felt +with horror that no barrier lay between him and her. + +The curtain rose again. Anatole left the box, serene and gay. +Natasha went back to her father in the other box, now quite submissive +to the world she found herself in. All that was going on before her +now seemed quite natural, but on the other hand all her previous +thoughts of her betrothed, of Princess Mary, or of life in the country +did not once recur to her mind and were as if belonging to a remote +past. + +In the fourth act there was some sort of devil who sang waving his +arm about, till the boards were withdrawn from under him and he +disappeared down below. That was the only part of the fourth act +that Natasha saw. She felt agitated and tormented, and the cause of +this was Kuragin whom she could not help watching. As they were +leaving the theater Anatole came up to them, called their carriage, +and helped them in. As he was putting Natasha in he pressed her arm +above the elbow. Agitated and flushed she turned round. He was looking +at her with glittering eyes, smiling tenderly. + +Only after she had reached home was Natasha able clearly to think +over what had happened to her, and suddenly remembering Prince +Andrew she was horrified, and at tea to which all had sat down after +the opera, she gave a loud exclamation, flushed, and ran out of the +room. + +"O God! I am lost!" she said to herself. "How could I let him?" +She sat for a long time hiding her flushed face in her hands trying to +realize what had happened to her, but was unable either to +understand what had happened or what she felt. Everything seemed dark, +obscure, and terrible. There in that enormous, illuminated theater +where the bare-legged Duport, in a tinsel-decorated jacket, jumped +about to the music on wet boards, and young girls and old men, and the +nearly naked Helene with her proud, calm smile, rapturously cried +"bravo!"- there in the presence of that Helene it had all seemed clear +and simple; but now, alone by herself, it was incomprehensible. +"What is it? What was that terror I felt of him? What is this +gnawing of conscience I am feeling now?" she thought. + +Only to the old countess at night in bed could Natasha have told all +she was feeling. She knew that Sonya with her severe and simple +views would either not understand it at all or would be horrified at +such a confession. So Natasha tried to solve what was torturing her by +herself. + +"Am I spoiled for Andrew's love or not?" she asked herself, and with +soothing irony replied: "What a fool I am to ask that! What did happen +to me? Nothing! I have done nothing, I didn't lead him on at all. +Nobody will know and I shall never see him again," she told herself. +"So it is plain that nothing has happened and there is nothing to +repent of, and Andrew can love me still. But why 'still?' O God, why +isn't he here?" Natasha quieted herself for a moment, but again some +instinct told her that though all this was true, and though nothing +had happened, yet the former purity of her love for Prince Andrew +had perished. And again in imagination she went over her whole +conversation with Kuragin, and again saw the face, gestures, and +tender smile of that bold handsome man when he pressed her arm. + +CHAPTER XI + +Anatole Kuragin was staying in Moscow because his father had sent +him away from Petersburg, where he had been spending twenty thousand +rubles a year in cash, besides running up debts for as much more, +which his creditors demanded from his father. + +His father announced to him that he would now pay half his debts for +the last time, but only on condition that he went to Moscow as +adjutant to the commander in chief- a post his father had procured for +him- and would at last try to make a good match there. He indicated to +him Princess Mary and Julie Karagina. + +Anatole consented and went to Moscow, where he put up at Pierre's +house. Pierre received him unwillingly at first, but got used to him +after a while, sometimes even accompanied him on his carousals, and +gave him money under the guise of loans. + +As Shinshin had remarked, from the time of his arrival Anatole had +turned the heads of the Moscow ladies, especially by the fact that +he slighted them and plainly preferred the gypsy girls and French +actresses- with the chief of whom, Mademoiselle George, he was said to +be on intimate relations. He had never missed a carousal at +Danilov's or other Moscow revelers', drank whole nights through, +outvying everyone else, and was at all the balls and parties of the +best society. There was talk of his intrigues with some of the ladies, +and he flirted with a few of them at the balls. But he did not run +after the unmarried girls, especially the rich heiresses who were most +of them plain. There was a special reason for this, as he had got +married two years before- a fact known only to his most intimate +friends. At that time while with his regiment in Poland, a Polish +landowner of small means had forced him to marry his daughter. Anatole +had very soon abandoned his wife and, for a payment which he agreed to +send to his father-in-law, had arranged to be free to pass himself off +as a bachelor. + +Anatole was always content with his position, with himself, and with +others. He was instinctively and thoroughly convinced that was +impossible for him to live otherwise than as he did and that he had +never in his life done anything base. He was incapable of +considering how his actions might affect others or what the +consequences of this or that action of his might be. He was +convinced that, as a duck is so made that it must live in water, so +God had made him such that he must spend thirty thousand rubles a year +and always occupy a prominent position in society. He believed this so +firmly that others, looking at him, were persuaded of it too and did +not refuse him either a leading place in society or money, which he +borrowed from anyone and everyone and evidently would not repay. + +He was not a gambler, at any rate he did not care about winning. +He was not vain. He did not mind what people thought of him. Still +less could he be accused of ambition. More than once he had vexed +his father by spoiling his own career, and he laughed at +distinctions of all kinds. He was not mean, and did not refuse +anyone who asked of him. All he cared about was gaiety and women, +and as according to his ideas there was nothing dishonorable in +these tastes, and he was incapable of considering what the +gratification of his tastes entailed for others, he honestly +considered himself irreproachable, sincerely despised rogues and bad +people, and with a tranquil conscience carried his head high. + +Rakes, those male Magdalenes, have a secret feeling of innocence +similar to that which female Magdalenes have, based on the same hope +of forgiveness. "All will be forgiven her, for she loved much; and all +will be forgiven him, for he enjoyed much." + +Dolokhov, who had reappeared that year in Moscow after his exile and +his Persian adventures, and was leading a life of luxury, gambling, +and dissipation, associated with his old Petersburg comrade Kuragin +and made use of him for his own ends. + +Anatole was sincerely fond of Dolokhov for his cleverness and +audacity. Dolokhov, who needed Anatole Kuragin's name, position, and +connections as a bait to draw rich young men into his gambling set, +made use of him and amused himself at his expense without letting +the other feel it. Apart from the advantage he derived from Anatole, +the very process of dominating another's will was in itself a +pleasure, a habit, and a necessity to Dolokhov. + +Natasha had made a strong impression on Kuragin. At supper after the +opera he described to Dolokhov with the air of a connoisseur the +attractions of her arms, shoulders, feet, and hair and expressed his +intention of making love to her. Anatole had no notion and was +incapable of considering what might come of such love-making, as he +never had any notion of the outcome of any of his actions. + +"She's first-rate, my dear fellow, but not for us," replied +Dolokhov. + +"I will tell my sister to ask her to dinner," said Anatole. "Eh?" + +"You'd better wait till she's married...." + +"You know, I adore little girls, they lose their heads at once," +pursued Anatole. + +"You have been caught once already by a 'little girl,'" said +Dolokhov who knew of Kuragin's marriage. "Take care!" + +"Well, that can't happen twice! Eh?" said Anatole, with a +good-humored laugh. + +CHAPTER XII + +The day after the opera the Rostovs went nowhere and nobody came +to see them. Marya Dmitrievna talked to the count about something +which they concealed from Natasha. Natasha guessed they were talking +about the old prince and planning something, and this disquieted and +offended her. She was expecting Prince Andrew any moment and twice +that day sent a manservant to the Vozdvizhenka to ascertain whether he +had come. He had not arrived. She suffered more now than during her +first days in Moscow. To her impatience and pining for him were now +added the unpleasant recollection of her interview with Princess +Mary and the old prince, and a fear and anxiety of which she did not +understand the cause. She continually fancied that either he would +never come or that something would happen to her before he came. She +could no longer think of him by herself calmly and continuously as she +had done before. As soon as she began to think of him, the +recollection of the old prince, of Princess Mary, of the theater, +and of Kuragin mingled with her thoughts. The question again presented +itself whether she was not guilty, whether she had not already +broken faith with Prince Andrew, and again she found herself recalling +to the minutest detail every word, every gesture, and every shade in +the play of expression on the face of the man who had been able to +arouse in her such an incomprehensible and terrifying feeling. To +the family Natasha seemed livelier than usual, but she was far less +tranquil and happy than before. + +On Sunday morning Marya Dmitrievna invited her visitors to Mass at +her parish church- the Church of the Assumption built over the +graves of victims of the plague. + +"I don't like those fashionable churches," she said, evidently +priding herself on her independence of thought. "God is the same every +where. We have an excellent priest, he conducts the service decently +and with dignity, and the deacon is the same. What holiness is there +in giving concerts in the choir? I don't like it, it's just +self-indulgence!" + +Marya Dmitrievna liked Sundays and knew how to keep them. Her +whole house was scrubbed and cleaned on Saturdays; neither she nor the +servants worked, and they all wore holiday dress and went to church. +At her table there were extra dishes at dinner, and the servants had +vodka and roast goose or suckling pig. But in nothing in the house was +the holiday so noticeable as in Marya Dmitrievna's broad, stern +face, which on that day wore an invariable look of solemn festivity. + +After Mass, when they had finished their coffee in the dining room +where the loose covers had been removed from the furniture, a +servant announced that the carriage was ready, and Marya Dmitrievna +rose with a stern air. She wore her holiday shawl, in which she paid +calls, and announced that she was going to see Prince Nicholas +Bolkonski to have an explanation with him about Natasha. + +After she had gone, a dressmaker from Madame Suppert-Roguet waited +on the Rostovs, and Natasha, very glad of this diversion, having +shut herself into a room adjoining the drawing room, occupied +herself trying on the new dresses. Just as she had put on a bodice +without sleeves and only tacked together, and was turning her head +to see in the glass how the back fitted, she heard in the drawing room +the animated sounds of her father's voice and another's- a woman's- +that made her flush. It was Helene. Natasha had not time to take off +the bodice before the door opened and Countess Bezukhova, dressed in a +purple velvet gown with a high collar, came into the room beaming with +good-humored amiable smiles. + +"Oh, my enchantress!" she cried to the blushing Natasha. +"Charming! No, this is really beyond anything, my dear count," said +she to Count Rostov who had followed her in. "How can you live in +Moscow and go nowhere? No, I won't let you off! Mademoiselle George +will recite at my house tonight and there'll be some people, and if +you don't bring your lovely girls- who are prettier than +Mademoiselle George- I won't know you! My husband is away in Tver or I +would send him to fetch you. You must come. You positively must! +Between eight and nine." + +She nodded to the dressmaker, whom she knew and who had curtsied +respectfully to her, and seated herself in an armchair beside the +looking glass, draping the folds of her velvet dress picturesquely. +She did not cease chattering good-naturedly and gaily, continually +praising Natasha's beauty. She looked at Natasha's dresses and praised +them, as well as a new dress of her own made of "metallic gauze," +which she had received from Paris, and advised Natasha to have one +like it. + +"But anything suits you, my charmer!" she remarked. + +A smile of pleasure never left Natasha's face. She felt happy and as +if she were blossoming under the praise of this dear Countess +Bezukhova who had formerly seemed to her so unapproachable and +important and was now so kind to her. Natasha brightened up and felt +almost in love with this woman, who was so beautiful and so kind. +Helene for her part was sincerely delighted with Natasha and wished to +give her a good time. Anatole had asked her to bring him and Natasha +together, and she was calling on the Rostovs for that purpose. The +idea of throwing her brother and Natasha together amused her. + +Though at one time, in Petersburg, she had been annoyed with Natasha +for drawing Boris away, she did not think of that now, and in her +own way heartily wished Natasha well. As she was leaving the Rostovs +she called her protegee aside. + +"My brother dined with me yesterday- we nearly died of laughter- +he ate nothing and kept sighing for you, my charmer! He is madly, +quite madly, in love with you, my dear." + +Natasha blushed scarlet when she heard this. + +"How she blushes, how she blushes, my pretty!" said Helene. "You +must certainly come. If you love somebody, my charmer, that is not a +reason to shut yourself up. Even if you are engaged, I am sure your +fiance would wish you to go into society rather than be bored to +death." + +"So she knows I am engaged, and she and her husband Pierre- that +good Pierre- have talked and laughed about this. So it's all right." +And again, under Helene's influence, what had seemed terrible now +seemed simple and natural. "And she is such a grande dame, so kind, +and evidently likes me so much. And why not enjoy myself?" thought +Natasha, gazing at Helene with wide-open, wondering eyes. + +Marya Dmitrievna came back to dinner taciturn and serious, having +evidently suffered a defeat at the old prince's. She was still too +agitated by the encounter to be able to talk of the affair calmly. +In answer to the count's inquiries she replied that things were all +right and that she would tell about it next day. On hearing of +Countess Bezukhova's visit and the invitation for that evening, +Marya Dmitrievna remarked: + +"I don't care to have anything to do with Bezukhova and don't advise +you to; however, if you've promised- go. It will divert your +thoughts," she added, addressing Natasha. + +CHAPTER XIII + +Count Rostov took the girls to Countess Bezukhova's. There were a +good many people there, but nearly all strangers to Natasha. Count +Rostov was displeased to see that the company consisted almost +entirely of men and women known for the freedom of their conduct. +Mademoiselle George was standing in a corner of the drawing room +surrounded by young men. There were several Frenchmen present, among +them Metivier who from the time Helene reached Moscow had been an +intimate in her house. The count decided not to sit down to cards or +let his girls out of his sight and to get away as soon as Mademoiselle +George's performance was over. + +Anatole was at the door, evidently on the lookout for the Rostovs. +Immediately after greeting the count he went up to Natasha and +followed her. As soon as she saw him she was seized by the same +feeling she had had at the opera- gratified vanity at his admiration +of her and fear at the absence of a moral barrier between them. + +Helene welcomed Natasha delightedly and was loud in admiration of +her beauty and her dress. Soon after their arrival Mademoiselle George +went out of the room to change her costume. In the drawing room people +began arranging the chairs and taking their seats. Anatole moved a +chair for Natasha and was about to sit down beside her, but the count, +who never lost sight of her, took the seat himself. Anatole sat down +behind her. + +Mademoiselle George, with her bare, fat, dimpled arms, and a red +shawl draped over one shoulder, came into the space left vacant for +her, and assumed an unnatural pose. Enthusiastic whispering was +audible. + +Mademoiselle George looked sternly and gloomily at the audience +and began reciting some French verses describing her guilty love for +her son. In some places she raised her voice, in others she whispered, +lifting her head triumphantly; sometimes she paused and uttered hoarse +sounds, rolling her eyes. + +"Adorable! divine! delicious!" was heard from every side. + +Natasha looked at the fat actress, but neither saw nor heard nor +understood anything of what went on before her. She only felt +herself again completely borne away into this strange senseless world- +so remote from her old world- a world in which it was impossible to +know what was good or bad, reasonable or senseless. Behind her sat +Anatole, and conscious of his proximity she experienced a frightened +sense of expectancy. + +After the first monologue the whole company rose and surrounded +Mademoiselle George, expressing their enthusiasm. + +"How beautiful she is!" Natasha remarked to her father who had +also risen and was moving through the crowd toward the actress. + +"I don't think so when I look at you!" said Anatole, following +Natasha. He said this at a moment when she alone could hear him. +"You are enchanting... from the moment I saw you I have never +ceased..." + +"Come, come, Natasha!" said the count, as he turned back for his +daughter. "How beautiful she is!" Natasha without saying anything +stepped up to her father and looked at him with surprised inquiring +eyes. + +After giving several recitations, Mademoiselle George left, and +Countess Bezukhova asked her visitors into the ballroom. + +The count wished to go home, but Helene entreated him not to spoil +her improvised ball, and the Rostovs stayed on. Anatole asked +Natasha for a valse and as they danced he pressed her waist and hand +and told her she was bewitching and that he loved her. During the +ecossaise, which she also danced with him, Anatole said nothing when +they happened to be by themselves, but merely gazed at her. Natasha +lifted her frightened eyes to him, but there was such confident +tenderness in his affectionate look and smile that she could not, +whilst looking at him, say what she had to say. She lowered her eyes. + +"Don't say such things to me. I am betrothed and love another," +she said rapidly.... She glanced at him. + +Anatole was not upset or pained by what she had said. + +"Don't speak to me of that! What can I do?" said he. "I tell you I +am madly, madly, in love with you! Is it my fault that you are +enchanting?... It's our turn to begin." + +Natasha, animated and excited, looked about her with wide-open +frightened eyes and seemed merrier than usual. She understood hardly +anything that went on that evening. They danced the ecossaise and +the Grossvater. Her father asked her to come home, but she begged to +remain. Wherever she went and whomever she was speaking to, she felt +his eyes upon her. Later on she recalled how she had asked her +father to let her go to the dressing room to rearrange her dress, that +Helene had followed her and spoken laughingly of her brother's love, +and that she again met Anatole in the little sitting room. Helene +had disappeared leaving them alone, and Anatole had taken her hand and +said in a tender voice: + +"I cannot come to visit you but is it possible that I shall never +see you? I love you madly. Can I never...?" and, blocking her path, he +brought his face close to hers. + +His large, glittering, masculine eyes were so close to hers that she +saw nothing but them. + +"Natalie?" he whispered inquiringly while she felt her hands being +painfully pressed. "Natalie?" + +"I don't understand. I have nothing to say," her eyes replied. + +Burning lips were pressed to hers, and at the same instant she +felt herself released, and Helene's footsteps and the rustle of her +dress were heard in the room. Natasha looked round at her, and then, +red and trembling, threw a frightened look of inquiry at Anatole and +moved toward the door. + +"One word, just one, for God's sake!" cried Anatole. + +She paused. She so wanted a word from him that would explain to +her what had happened and to which she could find no answer. + +"Natalie, just a word, only one!" he kept repeating, evidently not +knowing what to say and he repeated it till Helene came up to them. + +Helene returned with Natasha to the drawing room. The Rostovs went +away without staying for supper. + +After reaching home Natasha did not sleep all night. She was +tormented by the insoluble question whether she loved Anatole or +Prince Andrew. She loved Prince Andrew- she remembered distinctly +how deeply she loved him. But she also loved Anatole, of that there +was no doubt. "Else how could all this have happened?" thought she. +"If, after that, I could return his smile when saying good-by, if I +was able to let it come to that, it means that I loved him from the +first. It means that he is kind, noble, and splendid, and I could +not help loving him. What am I to do if I love him and the other one +too?" she asked herself, unable to find an answer to these terrible +questions. + +CHAPTER XIV + +Morning came with its cares and bustle. Everyone got up and began to +move about and talk, dressmakers came again. Marya Dmitrievna +appeared, and they were called to breakfast. Natasha kept looking +uneasily at everybody with wide-open eyes, as if wishing to +intercept every glance directed toward her, and tried to appear the +same as usual. + +After breakfast, which was her best time, Marya Dmitrievna sat +down in her armchair and called Natasha and the count to her. + +"Well, friends, I have now thought the whole matter over and this is +my advice," she began. "Yesterday, as you know, I went to see Prince +Bolkonski. Well, I had a talk with him.... He took it into his head to +begin shouting, but I am not one to be shouted down. I said what I had +to say!" + +"Well, and he?" asked the count. + +"He? He's crazy... he did not want to listen. But what's the use +of talking? As it is we have worn the poor girl out," said Marya +Dmitrievna. "My advice to you is finish your business and go back home +to Otradnoe... and wait there." + +"Oh, no!" exclaimed Natasha. + +"Yes, go back," said Marya Dmitrievna, "and wait there. If your +betrothed comes here now- there will be no avoiding a quarrel; but +alone with the old man he will talk things over and then come on to +you." + +Count Rostov approved of this suggestion, appreciating its +reasonableness. If the old man came round it would be all the better +to visit him in Moscow or at Bald Hills later on; and if not, the +wedding, against his wishes, could only be arranged at Otradnoe. + +"That is perfectly true. And I am sorry I went to see him and took +her," said the old count. + +"No, why be sorry? Being here, you had to pay your respects. But +if he won't- that's his affair," said Marya Dmitrievna, looking for +something in her reticule. "Besides, the trousseau is ready, so +there is nothing to wait for; and what is not ready I'll send after +you. Though I don't like letting you go, it is the best way. So go, +with God's blessing!" + +Having found what she was looking for in the reticule she handed +it to Natasha. It was a letter from Princess Mary. + +"She has written to you. How she torments herself, poor thing! She's +afraid you might think that she does not like you." + +"But she doesn't like me," said Natasha. + +"Don't talk nonsense!" cried Marya Dmitrievna. + +"I shan't believe anyone, I know she doesn't like me," replied +Natasha boldly as she took the letter, and her face expressed a cold +and angry resolution that caused Marya Dmitrievna to look at her +more intently and to frown. + +"Don't answer like that, my good girl!" she said. "What I say is +true! Write an answer!" Natasha did not reply and went to her own room +to read Princess Mary's letter. + +Princess Mary wrote that she was in despair at the +misunderstanding that had occurred between them. Whatever her father's +feelings might be, she begged Natasha to believe that she could not +help loving her as the one chosen by her brother, for whose +happiness she was ready to sacrifice everything. + +"Do not think, however," she wrote, "that my father is +ill-disposed toward you. He is an invalid and an old man who must be +forgiven; but he is good and magnanimous and will love her who makes +his son happy." Princess Mary went on to ask Natasha to fix a time +when she could see her again. + +After reading the letter Natasha sat down at the writing table to +answer it. "Dear Princess," she wrote in French quickly and +mechanically, and then paused. What more could she write after all +that had happened the evening before? "Yes, yes! All that has +happened, and now all is changed," she thought as she sat with the +letter she had begun before her. "Must I break off with him? Must I +really? That's awful... and to escape from these dreadful thoughts she +went to Sonya and began sorting patterns with her. + +After dinner Natasha went to her room and again took up Princess +Mary's letter. "Can it be that it is all over?" she thought. "Can it +be that all this has happened so quickly and has destroyed all that +went before?" She recalled her love for Prince Andrew in all its +former strength, and at the same time felt that she loved Kuragin. She +vividly pictured herself as Prince Andrew's wife, and the scenes of +happiness with him she had so often repeated in her imagination, and +at the same time, aglow with excitement, recalled every detail of +yesterday's interview with Anatole. + +"Why could that not be as well?" she sometimes asked herself in +complete bewilderment. "Only so could I be completely happy; but now I +have to choose, and I can't be happy without either of them. Only," +she thought, "to tell Prince Andrew what has happened or to hide it +from him are both equally impossible. But with that one nothing is +spoiled. But am I really to abandon forever the joy of Prince Andrew's +love, in which I have lived so long?" + +"Please, Miss!" whispered a maid entering the room with a mysterious +air. "A man told me to give you this-" and she handed Natasha a +letter. + +"Only, for Christ's sake..." the girl went on, as Natasha, without +thinking, mechanically broke the seal and read a love letter from +Anatole, of which, without taking in a word, she understood only +that it was a letter from him- from the man she loved. Yes, she +loved him, or else how could that have happened which had happened? +And how could she have a love letter from him in her hand? + +With trembling hands Natasha held that passionate love letter +which Dolokhov had composed for Anatole, and as she read it she +found in it an echo of all that she herself imagined she was feeling. + +"Since yesterday evening my fate has been sealed; to be loved by you +or to die. There is no other way for me," the letter began. Then he +went on to say that he knew her parents would not give her to him- for +this there were secret reasons he could reveal only to her- but that +if she loved him she need only say the word yes, and no human power +could hinder their bliss. Love would conquer all. He would steal her +away and carry her off to the ends of the earth. + +"Yes, yes! I love him!" thought Natasha, reading the letter for +the twentieth time and finding some peculiarly deep meaning in each +word of it. + +That evening Marya Dmitrievna was going to the Akharovs' and +proposed to take the girls with her. Natasha, pleading a headache, +remained at home. + +CHAPTER XV + +On returning late in the evening Sonya went to Natasha's room, and +to her surprise found her still dressed and asleep on the sofa. Open +on the table, beside her lay Anatole's letter. Sonya picked it up +and read it. + +As she read she glanced at the sleeping Natasha, trying to find in +her face an explanation of what she was reading, but did not find +it. Her face was calm, gentle, and happy. Clutching her breast to keep +herself from choking, Sonya, pale and trembling with fear and +agitation, sat down in an armchair and burst into tears. + +"How was it I noticed nothing? How could it go so far? Can she +have left off loving Prince Andrew? And how could she let Kuragin go +to such lengths? He is a deceiver and a villain, that's plain! What +will Nicholas, dear noble Nicholas, do when he hears of it? So this is +the meaning of her excited, resolute, unnatural look the day before +yesterday, yesterday, and today," thought Sonya. "But it can't be that +she loves him! She probably opened the letter without knowing who it +was from. Probably she is offended by it. She could not do such a +thing!" + +Sonya wiped away her tears and went up to Natasha, again scanning +her face. + +"Natasha!" she said, just audibly. + +Natasha awoke and saw Sonya. + +"Ah, you're back?" + +And with the decision and tenderness that often come at the moment +of awakening, she embraced her friend, but noticing Sonya's look of +embarrassment, her own face expressed confusion and suspicion. + +"Sonya, you've read that letter?" she demanded. + +"Yes," answered Sonya softly. + +Natasha smiled rapturously. + +"No, Sonya, I can't any longer!" she said. "I can't hide it from you +any longer. You know, we love one another! Sonya, darling, he +writes... Sonya..." + +Sonya stared open-eyed at Natasha, unable to believe her ears. + +"And Bolkonski?" she asked. + +"Ah, Sonya, if you only knew how happy I am!" cried Natasha. "You +don't know what love is...." + +"But, Natasha, can that be all over?" + +Natasha looked at Sonya with wide-open eyes as if she could not +grasp the question. + +"Well, then, are you refusing Prince Andrew?" said Sonya. + +"Oh, you don't understand anything! Don't talk nonsense, just +listen!" said Natasha, with momentary vexation. + +"But I can't believe it," insisted Sonya. "I don't understand. How +is it you have loved a man for a whole year and suddenly... Why, you +have only seen him three times! Natasha, I don't believe you, you're +joking! In three days to forget everything and so..." + +"Three days?" said Natasha. "It seems to me I've loved him a hundred +years. It seems to me that I have never loved anyone before. You can't +understand it.... Sonya, wait a bit, sit here," and Natasha embraced +and kissed her. + +"I had heard that it happens like this, and you must have heard it +too, but it's only now that I feel such love. It's not the same as +before. As soon as I saw him I felt he was my master and I his +slave, and that I could not help loving him. Yes, his slave! +Whatever he orders I shall do. You don't understand that. What can I +do? What can I do, Sonya?" cried Natasha with a happy yet frightened +expression. + +"But think what you are doing," cried Sonya. "I can't leave it +like this. This secret correspondence... How could you let him go so +far?" she went on, with a horror and disgust she could hardly conceal. + +"I told you that I have no will," Natasha replied. "Why can't you +understand? I love him!" + +"Then I won't let it come to that... I shall tell!" cried Sonya, +bursting into tears. + +"What do you mean? For God's sake... If you tell, you are my enemy!" +declared Natasha. "You want me to be miserable, you want us to be +separated...." + +When she saw Natasha's fright, Sonya shed tears of shame and pity +for her friend. + +"But what has happened between you?" she asked. "What has he said to +you? Why doesn't he come to the house?" + +Natasha did not answer her questions. + +"For God's sake, Sonya, don't tell anyone, don't torture me," +Natasha entreated. "Remember no one ought to interfere in such +matters! I have confided in you...." + +"But why this secrecy? Why doesn't he come to the house?" asked +Sonya. "Why doesn't he openly ask for your hand? You know Prince +Andrew gave you complete freedom- if it is really so; but I don't +believe it! Natasha, have you considered what these secret reasons can +be?" + +Natasha looked at Sonya with astonishment. Evidently this question +presented itself to her mind for the first time and she did not know +how to answer it. + +"I don't know what the reasons are. But there must be reasons!" + +Sonya sighed and shook her head incredulously. + +"If there were reasons..." she began. + +But Natasha, guessing her doubts, interrupted her in alarm. + +"Sonya, one can't doubt him! One can't, one can't! Don't you +understand?" she cried. + +"Does he love you?" + +"Does he love me?" Natasha repeated with a smile of pity at her +friend's lack of comprehension. "Why, you have read his letter and you +have seen him." + +"But if he is dishonorable?" + +"He! dishonorable? If you only knew!" exclaimed Natasha. + +"If he is an honorable man he should either declare his intentions +or cease seeing you; and if you won't do this, I will. I will write to +him, and I will tell Papa!" said Sonya resolutely. + +"But I can't live without him!" cried Natasha. + +"Natasha, I don't understand you. And what are you saying! Think +of your father and of Nicholas." + +"I don't want anyone, I don't love anyone but him. How dare you +say he is dishonorable? Don't you know that I love him?" screamed +Natasha. "Go away, Sonya! I don't want to quarrel with you, but go, +for God's sake go! You see how I am suffering!" Natasha cried angrily, +in a voice of despair and repressed irritation. Sonya burst into +sobs and ran from the room. + +Natasha went to the table and without a moment's reflection wrote +that answer to Princess Mary which she had been unable to write all +the morning. In this letter she said briefly that all their +misunderstandings were at an end; that availing herself of the +magnanimity of Prince Andrew who when he went abroad had given her her +she begged Princess Mary to forget everything and forgive her if she +had been to blame toward her, but that she could not be his wife. At +that moment this all seemed quite easy, simple, and clear to Natasha. + +On Friday the Rostovs were to return to the country, but on +Wednesday the count went with the prospective purchaser to his +estate near Moscow. + +On the day the count left, Sonya and Natasha were invited to a big +dinner party at the Karagins', and Marya Dmitrievna took them there. +At that party Natasha again met Anatole, and Sonya noticed that she +spoke to him, trying not to be overheard, and that all through +dinner she was more agitated than ever. When they got home Natasha was +the first to begin the explanation Sonya expected. + +"There, Sonya, you were talking all sorts of nonsense about him," +Natasha began in a mild voice such as children use when they wish to +be praised. "We have had an explanation today." + +"Well, what happened? What did he say? Natasha, how glad I am you're +not angry with me! Tell me everything- the whole truth. What did he +say?" + +Natasha became thoughtful. + +"Oh, Sonya, if you knew him as I do! He said... He asked me what I +had promised Bolkonski. He was glad I was free to refuse him." + +Sonya sighed sorrowfully. + +"But you haven't refused Bolkonski?" said she. + +"Perhaps I have. Perhaps all is over between me and Bolkonski. Why +do you think so badly of me?" + +"I don't think anything, only I don't understand this..." + +"Wait a bit, Sonya, you'll understand everything. You'll see what +a man he is! Now don't think badly of me or of him. I don't think +badly of anyone: I love and pity everybody. But what am I to do?" + +Sonya did not succumb to the tender tone Natasha used toward her. +The more emotional and ingratiating the expression of Natasha's face +became, the more serious and stern grew Sonya's. + +"Natasha," said she, "you asked me not to speak to you, and I +haven't spoken, but now you yourself have begun. I don't trust him, +Natasha. Why this secrecy?" + +"Again, again!" interrupted Natasha. + +"Natasha, I am afraid for you!" + +"Afraid of what?" + +"I am afraid you're going to your ruin," said Sonya resolutely, +and was herself horrified at what she had said. + +Anger again showed in Natasha's face. + +"And I'll go to my ruin, I will, as soon as possible! It's not +your business! It won't be you, but I, who'll suffer. Leave me +alone, leave me alone! I hate you!" + +Natasha!" moaned Sonya, aghast. + +"I hate you, I hate you! You're my enemy forever!" And Natasha ran +out of the room. + +Natasha did not speak to Sonya again and avoided her. With the +same expression of agitated surprise and guilt she went about the +house, taking up now one occupation, now another, and at once +abandoning them. + +Hard as it was for Sonya, she watched her friend and did not let her +out of her sight. + +The day before the count was to return, Sonya noticed that Natasha +sat by the drawingroom window all the morning as if expecting +something and that she made a sign to an officer who drove past, +whom Sonya took to be Anatole. + +Sonya began watching her friend still more attentively and noticed +that at dinner and all that evening Natasha was in a strange and +unnatural state. She answered questions at random, began sentences she +did not finish, and laughed at everything. + +After tea Sonya noticed a housemaid at Natasha's door timidly +waiting to let her pass. She let the girl go in, and then listening at +the door learned that another letter had been delivered. + +Then suddenly it became clear to Sonya that Natasha had some +dreadful plan for that evening. Sonya knocked at her door. Natasha did +not let her in. + +"She will run away with him!" thought Sonya. "She is capable of +anything. There was something particularly pathetic and resolute in +her face today. She cried as she said good-by to Uncle," Sonya +remembered. "Yes, that's it, she means to elope with him, but what +am I to do?" thought she, recalling all the signs that clearly +indicated that Natasha had some terrible intention. "The count is +away. What am I to do? Write to Kuragin demanding an explanation? +But what is there to oblige him to reply? Write to Pierre, as Prince +Andrew asked me to in case of some misfortune?... But perhaps she +really has already refused Bolkonski- she sent a letter to Princess +Mary yesterday. And Uncle is away...." To tell Marya Dmitrievna who +had such faith in Natasha seemed to Sonya terrible. "Well, anyway," +thought Sonya as she stood in the dark passage, "now or never I must +prove that I remember the family's goodness to me and that I love +Nicholas. Yes! If I don't sleep for three nights I'll not leave this +passage and will hold her back by force and will and not let the +family be disgraced," thought she. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Anatole had lately moved to Dolokhov's. The plan for Natalie +Rostova's abduction had been arranged and the preparations made by +Dolokhov a few days before, and on the day that Sonya, after listening +at Natasha's door, resolved to safeguard her, it was to have been +put into execution. Natasha had promised to come out to Kuragin at the +back porch at ten that evening. Kuragin was to put her into a troyka +he would have ready and to drive her forty miles to the village of +Kamenka, where an unfrocked priest was in readiness to perform a +marriage ceremony over them. At Kamenka a relay of horses was to +wait which would take them to the Warsaw highroad, and from there they +would hasten abroad with post horses. + +Anatole had a passport, an order for post horses, ten thousand +rubles he had taken from his sister and another ten thousand +borrowed with Dolokhov's help. + +Two witnesses for the mock marriage- Khvostikov, a retired petty +official whom Dolokhov made use of in his gambling transactions, and +Makarin, a retired hussar, a kindly, weak fellow who had an +unbounded affection for Kuragin- were sitting at tea in Dolokhov's +front room. + +In his large study, the walls of which were hung to the ceiling with +Persian rugs, bearskins, and weapons, sat Dolokhov in a traveling +cloak and high boots, at an open desk on which lay abacus and some +bundles of paper money. Anatole, with uniform unbuttoned, walked to +and fro from the room where the witnesses were sitting, through the +study to the room behind, where his French valet and others were +packing the last of his things. Dolokhov was counting the money and +noting something down. + +"Well," he said, "Khvostikov must have two thousand." + +"Give it to him, then," said Anatole. + +"Makarka" (their name for Makarin) "will go through fire and water +for you for nothing. So here are our accounts all settled," said +Dolokhov, showing him the memorandum. "Is that right?" + +"Yes, of course," returned Anatole, evidently not listening to +Dolokhov and looking straight before him with a smile that did not +leave his face. + +Dolokhov banged down the or of his and turned to Anatole with an +ironic smile: + +"Do you know? You'd really better drop it all. There's still time!" + +"Fool," retorted Anatole. "Don't talk nonsense! If you only +knew... it's the devil knows what!" + +"No, really, give it up!" said Dolokhov. "I am speaking seriously. +It's no joke, this plot you've hatched." + +"What, teasing again? Go to the devil! Eh?" said Anatole, making a +grimace. "Really it's no time for your stupid jokes," and he left +the room. + +Dolokhov smiled contemptuously and condescendingly when Anatole +had gone out. + +"You wait a bit," he called after him. "I'm not joking, I'm +talking sense. Come here, come here!" + +Anatole returned and looked at Dolokhov, trying to give him his +attention and evidently submitting to him involuntarily. + +"Now listen to me. I'm telling you this for the last time. Why +should I joke about it? Did I hinder you? Who arranged everything +for you? Who found the priest and got the passport? Who raised the +money? I did it all." + +"Well, thank you for it. Do you think I am not grateful?" And +Anatole sighed and embraced Dolokhov. + +"I helped you, but all the same I must tell you the truth; it is a +dangerous business, and if you think about it- a stupid business. +Well, you'll carry her off- all right! Will they let it stop at +that? It will come out that you're already married. Why, they'll +have you in the criminal court...." + +"Oh, nonsense, nonsense!" Anatole ejaculated and again made a +grimace. "Didn't I explain to you? What?" And Anatole, with the +partiality dull-witted people have for any conclusion they have +reached by their own reasoning, repeated the argument he had already +put to Dolokhov a hundred times. "Didn't I explain to you that I +have come to this conclusion: if this marriage is invalid," he went +on, crooking one finger, "then I have nothing to answer for; but if it +is valid, no matter! Abroad no one will know anything about it. +Isn't that so? And don't talk to me, don't, don't." + +"Seriously, you'd better drop it! You'll only get yourself into a +mess!" + +"Go to the devil!" cried Anatole and, clutching his hair, left the +room, but returned at once and dropped into an armchair in front of +Dolokhov with his feet turned under him. "It's the very devil! What? +Feel how it beats!" He took Dolokhov's hand and put it on his heart. +"What a foot, my dear fellow! What a glance! A goddess!" he added in +French. "What?" + +Dolokhov with a cold smile and a gleam in his handsome insolent eyes +looked at him- evidently wishing to get some more amusement out of +him. + +"Well and when the money's gone, what then?" + +"What then? Eh?" repeated Anatole, sincerely perplexed by a +thought of the future. "What then?... Then, I don't know.... But why +talk nonsense!" He glanced at his watch. "It's time!" + +Anatole went into the back room. + +"Now then! Nearly ready? You're dawdling!" he shouted to the +servants. + +Dolokhov put away the money, called a footman whom he ordered to +bring something for them to eat and drink before the journey, and went +into the room where Khvostikov and Makarin were sitting. + +Anatole lay on the sofa in the study leaning on his elbow and +smiling pensively, while his handsome lips muttered tenderly to +himself. + +"Come and eat something. Have a drink!" Dolokhov shouted to him from +the other room. + +"I don't want to," answered Anatole continuing to smile. + +"Come! Balaga is here." + +Anatole rose and went into the dining room. Balaga was a famous +troyka driver who had known Dolokhov and Anatole some six years and +had given them good service with his troykas. More than once when +Anatole's regiment was stationed at Tver he had taken him from Tver in +the evening, brought him to Moscow by daybreak, and driven him back +again the next night. More than once he had enabled Dolokhov to escape +when pursued. More than once he had driven them through the town +with gypsies and "ladykins" as he called the cocottes. More than +once in their service he had run over pedestrians and upset vehicles +in the streets of Moscow and had always been protected from the +consequences by "my gentlemen" as he called them. He had ruined more +than one horse in their service. More than once they had beaten him, +and more than once they had made him drunk on champagne and Madeira, +which he loved; and he knew more than one thing about each of them +which would long ago have sent an ordinary man to Siberia. They +often called Balaga into their orgies and made him drink and dance +at the gypsies', and more than one thousand rubles of their money +had passed through his hands. In their service he risked his skin +and his life twenty times a year, and in their service had lost more +horses than the money he had from them would buy. But he liked them; +liked that mad driving at twelve miles an hour, liked upsetting a +driver or running down a pedestrian, and flying at full gallop through +the Moscow streets. He liked to hear those wild, tipsy shouts behind +him: "Get on! Get on!" when it was impossible to go any faster. He +liked giving a painful lash on the neck to some peasant who, more dead +than alive, was already hurrying out of his way. "Real gentlemen!" +he considered them. + +Anatole and Dolokhov liked Balaga too for his masterly driving and +because he liked the things they liked. With others Balaga +bargained, charging twenty-five rubles for a two hours' drive, and +rarely drove himself, generally letting his young men do so. But +with "his gentlemen" he always drove himself and never demanded +anything for his work. Only a couple of times a year- when he knew +from their valets that they had money in hand- he would turn up of a +morning quite sober and with a deep bow would ask them to help him. +The gentlemen always made him sit down. + +"Do help me out, Theodore Ivanych, sir," or "your excellency," he +would say. "I am quite out of horses. Let me have what you can to go +to the fair." + +And Anatole and Dolokhov, when they had money, would give him a +thousand or a couple of thousand rubles. + +Balaga was a fair-haired, short, and snub-nosed peasant of about +twenty-seven; red-faced, with a particularly red thick neck, +glittering little eyes, and a small beard. He wore a fine, +dark-blue, silk-lined cloth coat over a sheepskin. + +On entering the room now he crossed himself, turning toward the +front corner of the room, and went up to Dolokhov, holding out a +small, black hand. + +"Theodore Ivanych!" he said, bowing. + +"How d'you do, friend? Well, here he is!" + +"Good day, your excellency!" he said, again holding out his hand +to Anatole who had just come in. + +"I say, Balaga," said Anatole, putting his hands on the man's +shoulders, "do you care for me or not? Eh? Now, do me a service.... +What horses have you come with? Eh?" + +"As your messenger ordered, your special beasts," replied Balaga. + +"Well, listen, Balaga! Drive all three to death but get me there +in three hours. Eh?" + +"When they are dead, what shall I drive?" said Balaga with a wink. + +"Mind, I'll smash your face in! Don't make jokes!" cried Anatole, +suddenly rolling his eyes. + +"Why joke?" said the driver, laughing. "As if I'd grudge my +gentlemen anything! As fast as ever the horses can gallop, so fast +we'll go!" + +"Ah!" said Anatole. "Well, sit down." + +"Yes, sit down!" said Dolokhov. + +"I'll stand, Theodore Ivanych." + +"Sit down; nonsense! Have a drink!" said Anatole, and filled a large +glass of Madeira for him. + +The driver's eyes sparkled at the sight of the wine. After +refusing it for manners' sake, he drank it and wiped his mouth with +a red silk handkerchief he took out of his cap. + +"And when are we to start, your excellency?" + +"Well..." Anatole looked at his watch. "We'll start at once. Mind, +Balaga! You'll get there in time? Eh?" + +"That depends on our luck in starting, else why shouldn't we be +there in time?" replied Balaga. "Didn't we get you to Tver in seven +hours? I think you remember that, your excellency?" + +"Do you know, one Christmas I drove from Tver," said Anatole, +smilingly at the recollection and turning to Makarin who gazed +rapturously at him with wide-open eyes. "Will you believe it, Makarka, +it took one's breath away, the rate we flew. We came across a train of +loaded sleighs and drove right over two of them. Eh?" + +"Those were horses!" Balaga continued the tale. "That time I'd +harnessed two young side horses with the bay in the shafts," he went +on, turning to Dolokhov. "Will you believe it, Theodore Ivanych, those +animals flew forty miles? I couldn't hold them in, my hands grew +numb in the sharp frost so that I threw down the reins- 'Catch hold +yourself, your excellency!' says I, and I just tumbled on the bottom +of the sleigh and sprawled there. It wasn't a case of urging them +on, there was no holding them in till we reached the place. The devils +took us there in three hours! Only the near one died of it." + +CHAPTER XVII + +Anatole went out of the room and returned a few minutes later +wearing a fur coat girt with a silver belt, and a sable cap jauntily +set on one side and very becoming to his handsome face. Having +looked in a mirror, and standing before Dolokhov in the same pose he +had assumed before it, he lifted a glass of wine. + +"Well, good-by, Theodore. Thank you for everything and farewell!" +said Anatole. "Well, comrades and friends..." he considered for a +moment "...of my youth, farewell!" he said, turning to Makarin and the +others. + +Though they were all going with him, Anatole evidently wished to +make something touching and solemn out of this address to his +comrades. He spoke slowly in a loud voice and throwing out his chest +slightly swayed one leg. + +"All take glasses; you too, Balaga. Well, comrades and friends of my +youth, we've had our fling and lived and reveled. Eh? And now, when +shall we meet again? I am going abroad. We have had a good time- now +farewell, lads! To our health! Hurrah!..." he cried, and emptying +his glass flung it on the floor. + +"To your health!" said Balaga who also emptied his glass, and +wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. + +Makarin embraced Anatole with tears in his eyes. + +"Ah, Prince, how sorry I am to part from you! + +"Let's go. Let's go!" cried Anatole. + +Balaga was about to leave the room. + +"No, stop!" said Anatole. "Shut the door; we have first to sit down. +That's the way." + +They shut the door and all sat down. + +"Now, quick march, lads!" said Anatole, rising. + +Joseph, his valet, handed him his sabretache and saber, and they all +went out into the vestibule. + +"And where's the fur cloak?" asked Dolokhov. "Hey, Ignatka! Go to +Matrena Matrevna and ask her for the sable cloak. I have heard what +elopements are like," continued Dolokhov with a wink. "Why, she'll +rush out more dead than alive just in the things she is wearing; if +you delay at all there'll be tears and 'Papa' and 'Mamma,' and she's +frozen in a minute and must go back- but you wrap the fur cloak +round her first thing and carry her to the sleigh." + +The valet brought a woman's fox-lined cloak. + +"Fool, I told you the sable one! Hey, Matrena, the sable!" he +shouted so that his voice rang far through the rooms. + +A handsome, slim, and pale-faced gypsy girl with glittering black +eyes and curly blue-black hair, wearing a red shawl, ran out with a +sable mantle on her arm. + +"Here, I don't grudge it- take it!" she said, evidently afraid of +her master and yet regretful of her cloak. + +Dolokhov, without answering, took the cloak, threw it over +Matrena, and wrapped her up in it. + +"That's the way," said Dolokhov, "and then so!" and he turned the +collar up round her head, leaving only a little of the face uncovered. +"And then so, do you see?" and he pushed Anatole's head forward to +meet the gap left by the collar, through which Matrena's brilliant +smile was seen. + +"Well, good-by, Matrena," said Anatole, kissing her. "Ah, my +revels here are over. Remember me to Steshka. There, good-by! Good-by, +Matrena, wish me luck!" + +"Well, Prince, may God give you great luck!" said Matrena in her +gypsy accent. + +Two troykas were standing before the porch and two young drivers +were holding the horses. Balaga took his seat in the front one and +holding his elbows high arranged the reins deliberately. Anatole and +Dolokhov got in with him. Makarin, Khvostikov, and a valet seated +themselves in the other sleigh. + +"Well, are you ready?" asked Balaga. + +"Go!" he cried, twisting the reins round his hands, and the troyka +tore down the Nikitski Boulevard. + +"Tproo! Get out of the way! Hi!... Tproo!..." The shouting of Balaga +and of the sturdy young fellow seated on the box was all that could be +heard. On the Arbat Square the troyka caught against a carriage; +something cracked, shouts were heard, and the troyka flew along the +Arbat Street. + +After taking a turn along the Podnovinski Boulevard, Balaga began to +rein in, and turning back drew up at the crossing of the old +Konyusheny Street. + +The young fellow on the box jumped down to hold the horses and +Anatole and Dolokhov went along the pavement. When they reached the +gate Dolokhov whistled. The whistle was answered, and a maidservant +ran out. + +"Come into the courtyard or you'll be seen; she'll come out +directly," said she. + +Dolokhov stayed by the gate. Anatole followed the maid into the +courtyard, turned the corner, and ran up into the porch. + +He was met by Gabriel, Marya Dmitrievna's gigantic footman. + +"Come to the mistress, please," said the footman in his deep bass, +intercepting any retreat. + +"To what Mistress? Who are you?" asked Anatole in a breathless +whisper. + +"Kindly step in, my orders are to bring you in." + +"Kuragin! Come back!" shouted Dolokhov. "Betrayed! Back!" + +Dolokhov, after Anatole entered, had remained at the wicket gate and +was struggling with the yard porter who was trying to lock it. With +a last desperate effort Dolokhov pushed the porter aside, and when +Anatole ran back seized him by the arm, pulled him through the wicket, +and ran back with him to the troyka. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Marya Dmitrievna, having found Sonya weeping in the corridor, made +her confess everything, and intercepting the note to Natasha she +read it and went into Natasha's room with it in her hand. + +"You shameless good-for-nothing!" said she. "I won't hear a word." + +Pushing back Natasha who looked at her with astonished but +tearless eyes, she locked her in; and having given orders to the +yard porter to admit the persons who would be coming that evening, but +not to let them out again, and having told the footman to bring them +up to her, she seated herself in the drawing room to await the +abductors. + +When Gabriel came to inform her that the men who had come had run +away again, she rose frowning, and clasping her hands behind her paced +through the rooms a long time considering what she should do. Toward +midnight she went to Natasha's room fingering the key in her pocket. +Sonya was sitting sobbing in the corridor. "Marya Dmitrievna, for +God's sake let me in to her!" she pleaded, but Marya Dmitrievna +unlocked the door and went in without giving her an answer.... +"Disgusting, abominable... In my house... horrid girl, hussy! I'm only +sorry for her father!" thought she, trying to restrain her wrath. +"Hard as it may be, I'll tell them all to hold their tongues and +will hide it from the count." She entered the room with resolute +steps. Natasha lying on the sofa, her head hidden in her hands, and +she did not stir. She was in just the same position in which Marya +Dmitrievna had left her. + +"A nice girl! Very nice!" said Marya Dmitrievna. "Arranging meetings +with lovers in my house! It's no use pretending: you listen when I +speak to you!" And Marya Dmitrievna touched her arm. "Listen when when +I speak! You've disgraced yourself like the lowest of hussies. I'd +treat you differently, but I'm sorry for your father, so I will +conceal it." + +Natasha did not change her position, but her whole body heaved +with noiseless, convulsive sobs which choked her. Marya Dmitrievna +glanced round at Sonya and seated herself on the sofa beside Natasha. + +"It's lucky for him that he escaped me; but I'll find him!" she said +in her rough voice. "Do you hear what I am saying or not?" she added. + +She put her large hand under Natasha's face and turned it toward +her. Both Marya Dmitrievna and Sonya were amazed when they saw how +Natasha looked. Her eyes were dry and glistening, her lips compressed, +her cheeks sunken. + +"Let me be!... What is it to me?... I shall die!" she muttered, +wrenching herself from Marya Dmitrievna's hands with a vicious +effort and sinking down again into her former position. + +"Natalie!" said Marya Dmitrievna. "I wish for your good. Lie +still, stay like that then, I won't touch you. But listen. I won't +tell you how guilty you are. You know that yourself. But when your +father comes back tomorrow what am I to tell him? Eh?" + +Again Natasha's body shook with sobs. + +"Suppose he finds out, and your brother, and your betrothed?" + +"I have no betrothed: I have refused him!" cried Natasha. + +"That's all the same," continued Dmitrievna. "If they hear of +this, will they let it pass? He, your father, I know him... if he +challenges him to a duel will that be all right? Eh?" + +"Oh, let me be! Why have you interfered at all? Why? Why? Who +asked you to?" shouted Natasha, raising herself on the sofa and +looking malignantly at Marya Dmitrievna. + +"But what did you want?" cried Marya Dmitrievna, growing angry +again. "Were you kept under lock and key? Who hindered his coming to +the house? Why carry you off as if you were some gypsy singing +girl?... Well, if he had carried you off... do you think they wouldn't +have found him? Your father, or brother, or your betrothed? And he's a +scoundrel, a wretch- that's a fact!" + +"He is better than any of you!" exclaimed Natasha getting up. "If +you hadn't interfered... Oh, my God! What is it all? What is it? +Sonya, why?... Go away!" + +And she burst into sobs with the despairing vehemence with which +people bewail disasters they feel they have themselves occasioned. +Marya Dmitrievna was to speak again but Natasha cried out: + +"Go away! Go away! You all hate and despise me!" and she threw +herself back on the sofa. + +Marya Dmitrievna went on admonishing her for some time, enjoining on +her that it must all be kept from her father and assuring her that +nobody would know anything about it if only Natasha herself would +undertake to forget it all and not let anyone see that something had +happened. Natasha did not reply, nor did she sob any longer, but she +grew cold and had a shivering fit. Marya Dmitrievna put a pillow under +her head, covered her with two quilts, and herself brought her some +lime-flower water, but Natasha did not respond to her. + +"Well, let her sleep," said Marya Dmitrievna as she went of the room +supposing Natasha to be asleep. + +But Natasha was not asleep; with pale face and fixed wide-open +eyes she looked straight before her. All that night she did not +sleep or weep and did not speak to Sonya who got up and went to her +several times. + +Next day Count Rostov returned from his estate near Moscow in time +for lunch as he had promised. He was in very good spirits; the +affair with the purchaser was going on satisfactorily, and there was +nothing to keep him any longer in Moscow, away from the countess +whom he missed. Marya Dmitrievna met him and told him that Natasha had +been very unwell the day before and that they had sent for the doctor, +but that she was better now. Natasha had not left her room that +morning. With compressed and parched lips and dry fixed eyes, she +sat at the window, uneasily watching the people who drove past and +hurriedly glancing round at anyone who entered the room. She was +evidently expecting news of him and that he would come or would +write to her. + +When the count came to see her she turned anxiously round at the +sound of a man's footstep, and then her face resumed its cold and +malevolent expression. She did not even get up to greet him. "What +is the matter with you, my angel? Are you ill?" asked the count. + +After a moment's silence Natasha answered: "Yes, ill." + +In reply to the count's anxious inquiries as to why she was so +dejected and whether anything had happened to her betrothed, she +assured him that nothing had happened and asked him not to worry. +Marya Dmitrievna confirmed Natasha's assurances that nothing had +happened. From the pretense of illness, from his daughter's +distress, and by the embarrassed faces of Sonya and Marya +Dmitrievna, the count saw clearly that something had gone wrong during +his absence, but it was so terrible for him to think that anything +disgraceful had happened to his beloved daughter, and he so prized his +own cheerful tranquillity, that he avoided inquiries and tried to +assure himself that nothing particularly had happened; and he was only +dissatisfied that her indisposition delayed their return to the +country. + +CHAPTER XIX + +From the day his wife arrived in Moscow Pierre had been intending to +go away somewhere, so as not to be near her. Soon after the Rostovs +came to Moscow the effect Natasha had on him made him hasten to +carry out his intention. He went to Tver to see Joseph Alexeevich's +widow, who had long since promised to hand over to him some papers +of her deceased husband's. + +When he returned to Moscow Pierre was handed a letter from Marya +Dmitrievna asking him to come and see her on a matter of great +importance relating to Andrew Bolkonski and his betrothed. Pierre +had been avoiding Natasha because it seemed to him that his feeling +for her was stronger than a married man's should be for his friend's +fiancee. Yet some fate constantly threw them together. + +"What can have happened? And what can they want with me?" thought he +as he dressed to go to Marya Dmitrievna's. "If only Prince Andrew +would hurry up and come and marry her!" thought he on his way to the +house. + +On the Tverskoy Boulevard a familiar voice called to him. + +"Pierre! Been back long?" someone shouted. Pierre raised his head. +In a sleigh drawn by two gray trotting-horses that were bespattering +the dashboard with snow, Anatole and his constant companion Makarin +dashed past. Anatole was sitting upright in the classic pose of +military dandies, the lower part of his face hidden by his beaver +collar and his head slightly bent. His face was fresh and rosy, his +white-plumed hat, tilted to one side, disclosed his curled and pomaded +hair besprinkled with powdery snow. + +"Yes, indeed, that's a true sage," thought Pierre. "He sees +nothing beyond the pleasure of the moment, nothing troubles him and so +he is always cheerful, satisfied, and serene. What wouldn't I give +to be like him!" he thought enviously. + +In Marya Dmitrievna's anteroom the footman who helped him off with +his fur coat said that the mistress asked him to come to her bedroom. + +When he opened the ballroom door Pierre saw Natasha sitting at the +window, with a thin, pale, and spiteful face. She glanced round at +him, frowned, and left the room with an expression of cold dignity. + +"What has happened?" asked Pierre, entering Marya Dmitrievna's room. + +"Fine doings!" answered Dmitrievna. "For fifty-eight years have I +lived in this world and never known anything so disgraceful!" + +And having put him on his honor not to repeat anything she told him, +Marya Dmitrievna informed him that Natasha had refused Prince Andrew +without her parents' knowledge and that the cause of this was +Anatole Kuragin into whose society Pierre's wife had thrown her and +with whom Natasha had tried to elope during her father's absence, in +order to be married secretly. + +Pierre raised his shoulders and listened open-mouthed to what was +told him, scarcely able to believe his own ears. That Prince +Andrew's deeply loved affianced wife- the same Natasha Rostova who +used to be so charming- should give up Bolkonski for that fool Anatole +who was already secretly married (as Pierre knew), and should be so in +love with him as to agree to run away with him, was something Pierre +could not conceive and could not imagine. + +He could not reconcile the charming impression he had of Natasha, +whom he had known from a child, with this new conception of her +baseness, folly, and cruelty. He thought of his wife. "They are all +alike!" he said to himself, reflecting that he was not the only man +unfortunate enough to be tied to a bad woman. But still he pitied +Prince Andrew to the point of tears and sympathized with his wounded +pride, and the more he pitied his friend the more did he think with +contempt and even with disgust of that Natasha who had just passed him +in the ballroom with such a look of cold dignity. He did not know that +Natasha's soul was overflowing with despair, shame, and humiliation, +and that it was not her fault that her face happened to assume an +expression of calm dignity and severity. + +"But how get married?" said Pierre, in answer to Marya Dmitrievna. +"He could not marry- he is married!" + +"Things get worse from hour to hour!" ejaculated Marya Dmitrievna. +"A nice youth! What a scoundrel! And she's expecting him- expecting +him since yesterday. She must be told! Then at least she won't go on +expecting him." + +After hearing the details of Anatole's marriage from Pierre, and +giving vent to her anger against Anatole in words of abuse, Marya +Dmitrievna told Pierre why she had sent for him. She was afraid that +the count or Bolkonski, who might arrive at any moment, if they knew +of this affair (which she hoped to hide from them) might challenge +Anatole to a duel, and she therefore asked Pierre to tell his +brother-in-law in her name to leave Moscow and not dare to let her set +eyes on him again. Pierre- only now realizing the danger to the old +count, Nicholas, and Prince Andrew- promised to do as she wished. +Having briefly and exactly explained her wishes to him, she let him go +to the drawing room. + +"Mind, the count knows nothing. Behave as if you know nothing +either," she said. "And I will go and tell her it is no use +expecting him! And stay to dinner if you care to!" she called after +Pierre. + +Pierre met the old count, who seemed nervous and upset. That morning +Natasha had told him that she had rejected Bolkonski. + +"Troubles, troubles, my dear fellow!" he said to Pierre. "What +troubles one has with these girls without their mother! I do so regret +having come here.... I will be frank with you. Have you heard she +has broken off her engagement without consulting anybody? It's true +this engagement never was much to my liking. Of course he is an +excellent man, but still, with his father's disapproval they +wouldn't have been happy, and Natasha won't lack suitors. Still, it +has been going on so long, and to take such a step without father's or +mother's consent! And now she's ill, and God knows what! It's hard, +Count, hard to manage daughters in their mother's absence...." + +Pierre saw that the count was much upset and tried to change the +subject, but the count returned to his troubles. + +Sonya entered the room with an agitated face. + +"Natasha is not quite well; she's in her room and would like to +see you. Marya Dmitrievna is with her and she too asks you to come." + +"Yes, you are a great friend of Bolkonski's, no doubt she wants to +send him a message," said the count. "Oh dear! Oh dear! How happy it +all was!" + +And clutching the spare gray locks on his temples the count left the +room. + +When Marya Dmitrievna told Natasha that Anatole was married, Natasha +did not wish to believe it and insisted on having it confirmed by +Pierre himself. Sonya told Pierre this as she led him along the +corridor to Natasha's room. + +Natasha, pale and stern, was sitting beside Marya Dmitrievna, and +her eyes, glittering feverishly, met Pierre with a questioning look +the moment he entered. She did not smile or nod, but only gazed +fixedly at him, and her look asked only one thing: was he a friend, or +like the others an enemy in regard to Anatole? As for Pierre, he +evidently did not exist for her. + +"He knows all about it," said Marya Dmitrievna pointing to Pierre +and addressing Natasha. "Let him tell you whether I have told the +truth." + +Natasha looked from one to the other as a hunted and wounded +animal looks at the approaching dogs and sportsmen. + +"Natalya Ilynichna," Pierre began, dropping his eyes with a +feeling of pity for her and loathing for the thing he had to do, +"whether it is true or not should make no difference to you, +because..." + +"Then it is not true that he's married!" + +"Yes, it is true." + +"Has he been married long?" she asked. "On your honor?..." + +Pierre gave his word of honor. + +"Is he still here?" she asked, quickly. + +"Yes, I have just seen him." + +She was evidently unable to speak and made a sign with her hands +that they should leave her alone. + +CHAPTER XX + +Pierre did not stay for dinner, but left the room and went away at +once. He drove through the town seeking Anatole Kuragin, at the +thought of whom now the blood rushed to his heart and he felt a +difficulty in breathing. He was not at the ice hills, nor at the +gypsies', nor at Komoneno's. Pierre drove to the Club. In the Club all +was going on as usual. The members who were assembling for dinner were +sitting about in groups; they greeted Pierre and spoke of the town +news. The footman having greeted him, knowing his habits and his +acquaintances, told him there was a place left for him in the small +dining room and that Prince Michael Zakharych was in the library, +but Paul Timofeevich had not yet arrived. One of Pierre's +acquaintances, while they were talking about the weather, asked if +he had heard of Kuragin's abduction of Rostova which was talked of +in the town, and was it true? Pierre laughed and said it was +nonsense for he had just come from the Rostovs'. He asked everyone +about Anatole. One man told him he had not come yet, and another +that he was coming to dinner. Pierre felt it strange to see this calm, +indifferent crowd of people unaware of what was going on in his +soul. He paced through the ballroom, waited till everyone had come, +and as Anatole had not turned up did not stay for dinner but drove +home. + +Anatole, for whom Pierre was looking, dined that day with +Dolokhov, consulting him as to how to remedy this unfortunate +affair. It seemed to him essential to see Natasha. In the evening he +drove to his sister's to discuss with her how to arrange a meeting. +When Pierre returned home after vainly hunting all over Moscow, his +valet informed him that Prince Anatole was with the countess. The +countess' drawing room was full of guests. + +Pierre without greeting his wife whom he had not seen since his +return- at that moment she was more repulsive to him than ever- +entered the drawing room and seeing Anatole went up to him. + +"Ah, Pierre," said the countess going up to her husband. "You +don't know what a plight our Anatole..." + +She stopped, seeing in the forward thrust of her husband's head, +in his glowing eyes and his resolute gait, the terrible indications of +that rage and strength which she knew and had herself experienced +after his duel with Dolokhov. + +"Where you are, there is vice and evil!" said Pierre to his wife. +"Anatole, come with me! I must speak to you," he added in French. + +Anatole glanced round at his sister and rose submissively, ready +to follow Pierre. Pierre, taking him by the arm, pulled him toward +himself and was leading him from the room. + +"If you allow yourself in my drawing room..." whispered Helene, +but Pierre did not reply and went out of the room. + +Anatole followed him with his usual jaunty step but his face +betrayed anxiety. + +Having entered his study Pierre closed the door and addressed +Anatole without looking at him. + +"You promised Countess Rostova to marry her and were about to +elope with her, is that so?" + +"Mon cher," answered Anatole (their whole conversation was in +French), "I don't consider myself bound to answer questions put to +me in that tone." + +Pierre's face, already pale, became distorted by fury. He seized +Anatole by the collar of his uniform with his big hand and shook him +from side to side till Anatole's face showed a sufficient degree of +terror. + +"When I tell you that I must talk to you!..." repeated Pierre. + +"Come now, this is stupid. What?" said Anatole, fingering a button +of his collar that had been wrenched loose with a bit of the cloth. + +"You're a scoundrel and a blackguard, and I don't know what deprives +me from the pleasure of smashing your head with this!" said Pierre, +expressing himself so artificially because he was talking French. + +He took a heavy paperweight and lifted it threateningly, but at once +put it back in its place. + +"Did you promise to marry her?" + +"I... I didn't think of it. I never promised, because..." + +Pierre interrupted him. + +"Have you any letters of hers? Any letters?" he said, moving +toward Anatole. + +Anatole glanced at him and immediately thrust his hand into his +pocket and drew out his pocketbook. + +Pierre took the letter Anatole handed him and, pushing aside a table +that stood in his way, threw himself on the sofa. + +"I shan't be violent, don't be afraid!" said Pierre in answer to a +frightened gesture of Anatole's. "First, the letters," said he, as +if repeating a lesson to himself. "Secondly," he continued after a +short pause, again rising and again pacing the room, "tomorrow you +must get out of Moscow." + +"But how can I?..." + +"Thirdly," Pierre continued without listening to him, "you must +never breathe a word of what has passed between you and Countess +Rostova. I know I can't prevent your doing so, but if you have a spark +of conscience..." Pierre paced the room several times in silence. + +Anatole sat at a table frowning and biting his lips. + +"After all, you must understand that besides your pleasure there +is such a thing as other people's happiness and peace, and that you +are ruining a whole life for the sake of amusing yourself! Amuse +yourself with women like my wife- with them you are within your +rights, for they know what you want of them. They are armed against +you by the same experience of debauchery; but to promise a maid to +marry her... to deceive, to kidnap.... Don't you understand that it is +as mean as beating an old man or a child?..." + +Pierre paused and looked at Anatole no longer with an angry but with +a questioning look. + +"I don't know about that, eh?" said Anatole, growing more +confident as Pierre mastered his wrath. "I don't know that and don't +want to," he said, not looking at Pierre and with a slight tremor of +his lower jaw, "but you have used such words to me- 'mean' and so +on- which as a man of honor I can't allow anyone to use." + +Pierre glanced at him with amazement, unable to understand what he +wanted. + +"Though it was tete-a-tete," Anatole continued, "still I can't..." + +"Is it satisfaction you want?" said Pierre ironically. + +"You could at least take back your words. What? If you want me to do +as you wish, eh?" + +"I take them back, I take them back!" said Pierre, "and I ask you to +forgive me." Pierre involuntarily glanced at the loose button. "And if +you require money for your journey..." + +Anatole smiled. The expression of that base and cringing smile, +which Pierre knew so well in his wife, revolted him. + +"Oh, vile and heartless brood!" he exclaimed, and left the room. + +Next day Anatole left for Petersburg. + +CHAPTER XXI + +Pierre drove to Marya Dmitrievna's to tell her of the fulfillment of +her wish that Kuragin should be banished from Moscow. The whole +house was in a state of alarm and commotion. Natasha was very ill, +having, as Marya Dmitrievna told him in secret, poisoned herself the +night after she had been told that Anatole was married, with some +arsenic she had stealthily procured. After swallowing a little she had +been so frightened that she woke Sonya and told her what she had done. +The necessary antidotes had been administered in time and she was +now out of danger, though still so weak that it was out of the +question to move her to the country, and so the countess had been sent +for. Pierre saw the distracted count, and Sonya, who had a +tear-stained face, but he could not see Natasha. + +Pierre dined at the club that day and heard on all sides gossip +about the attempted abduction of Rostova. He resolutely denied these +rumors, assuring everyone that nothing had happened except that his +brother-in-law had proposed to her and been refused. It seemed to +Pierre that it was his duty to conceal the whole affair and +re-establish Natasha's reputation. + +He was awaiting Prince Andrew's return with dread and went every day +to the old prince's for news of him. + +Old Prince Bolkonski heard all the rumors current in the town from +Mademoiselle Bourienne and had read the note to Princess Mary in which +Natasha had broken off her engagement. He seemed in better spirits +than usual and awaited his son with great impatience. + +Some days after Anatole's departure Pierre received a note from +Prince Andrew, informing him of his arrival and asking him to come +to see him. + +As soon as he reached Moscow, Prince Andrew had received from his +father Natasha's note to Princess Mary breaking off her engagement +(Mademoiselle Bourienne had purloined it from Princess Mary and +given it to the old prince), and he heard from him the story of +Natasha's elopement, with additions. + +Prince Andrew had arrived in the evening and Pierre came to see +him next morning. Pierre expected to find Prince Andrew in almost +the same state as Natasha and was therefore surprised on entering +the drawing room to hear him in the study talking in a loud animated +voice about some intrigue going on in Petersburg. The old prince's +voice and another now and then interrupted him. Princess Mary came out +to meet Pierre. She sighed, looking toward the door of the room +where Prince Andrew was, evidently intending to express her sympathy +with his sorrow, but Pierre saw by her face that she was glad both +at what had happened and at the way her brother had taken the news +of Natasha's faithlessness. + +"He says he expected it," she remarked. "I know his pride will not +let him express his feelings, but still he has taken it better, far +better, than I expected. Evidently it had to be...." + +"But is it possible that all is really ended?" asked Pierre. + +Princess Mary looked at him with astonishment. She did not +understand how he could ask such a question. Pierre went into the +study. Prince Andrew, greatly changed and plainly in better health, +but with a fresh horizontal wrinkle between his brows, stood in +civilian dress facing his father and Prince Meshcherski, warmly +disputing and vigorously gesticulating. The conversation was about +Speranski- the news of whose sudden exile and alleged treachery had +just reached Moscow. + +"Now he is censured and accused by all who were enthusiastic about +him a month ago," Prince Andrew was saying, "and by those who were +unable to understand his aims. To judge a man who is in disfavor and +to throw on him all the blame of other men's mistakes is very easy, +but I maintain that if anything good has been accomplished in this +reign it was done by him, by him alone." + +He paused at the sight of Pierre. His face quivered and +immediately assumed a vindictive expression. + +"Posterity will do him justice," he concluded, and at once turned to +Pierre. + +"Well, how are you? Still getting stouter?" he said with +animation, but the new wrinkle on his forehead deepened. "Yes, I am +well," he said in answer to Pierre's question, and smiled. + +To Pierre that smile said plainly: "I am well, but my health is +now of no use to anyone." + +After a few words to Pierre about the awful roads from the Polish +frontier, about people he had met in Switzerland who knew Pierre, +and about M. Dessalles, whom he had brought from abroad to be his +son's tutor, Prince Andrew again joined warmly in the conversation +about Speranski which was still going on between the two old men. + +"If there were treason, or proofs of secret relations with Napoleon, +they would have been made public," he said with warmth and haste. "I +do not, and never did, like Speranski personally, but I like justice!" + +Pierre now recognized in his friend a need with which he was only +too familiar, to get excited and to have arguments about extraneous +matters in order to stifle thoughts that were too oppressive and too +intimate. When Prince Meshcherski had left, Prince Andrew took +Pierre's arm and asked him into the room that had been assigned him. A +bed had been made up there, and some open portmanteaus and trunks +stood about. Prince Andrew went to one and took out a small casket, +from which he drew a packet wrapped in paper. He did it all silently +and very quickly. He stood up and coughed. His face was gloomy and his +lips compressed. + +"Forgive me for troubling you..." + +Pierre saw that Prince Andrew was going to speak of Natasha, and his +broad face expressed pity and sympathy. This expression irritated +Prince Andrew, and in a determined, ringing, and unpleasant tone he +continued: + +"I have received a refusal from Countess Rostova and have heard +reports of your brother-in-law having sought her hand, or something of +that kind. Is that true?" + +"Both true and untrue," Pierre began; but Prince Andrew +interrupted him. + +"Here are her letters and her portrait," said he. + +He took the packet from the table and handed it to Pierre. + +"Give this to the countess... if you see her." + +"She is very ill," said Pierre. + +"Then she is here still?" said Prince Andrew. "And Prince +Kuragin?" he added quickly. + +"He left long ago. She has been at death's door." + +"I much regret her illness," said Prince Andrew; and he smiled +like his father, coldly, maliciously, and unpleasantly. + +"So Monsieur Kuragin has not honored Countess Rostova with his +hand?" said Prince Andrew, and he snorted several times. + +"He could not marry, for he was married already," said Pierre. + +Prince Andrew laughed disagreeably, again reminding one of his +father. + +"And where is your brother-in-law now, if I may ask?" he said. + +"He has gone to Peters... But I don't know," said Pierre. + +"Well, it doesn't matter," said Prince Andrew. "Tell Countess +Rostova that she was and is perfectly free and that I wish her all +that is good." + +Pierre took the packet. Prince Andrew, as if trying to remember +whether he had something more to say, or waiting to see if Pierre +would say anything, looked fixedly at him. + +"I say, do you remember our discussion in Petersburg?" asked Pierre, +"about..." + +"Yes," returned Prince Andrew hastily. "I said that a fallen woman +should be forgiven, but I didn't say I could forgive her. I can't." + +"But can this be compared...?" said Pierre. + +Prince Andrew interrupted him and cried sharply: "Yes, ask her +hand again, be magnanimous, and so on?... Yes, that would be very +noble, but I am unable to follow in that gentleman's footsteps. If you +wish to be my friend never speak to me of that... of all that! Well, +good-by. So you'll give her the packet?" + +Pierre left the room and went to the old prince and Princess Mary. + +The old man seemed livelier than usual. Princess Mary was the same +as always, but beneath her sympathy for her brother, Pierre noticed +her satisfaction that the engagement had been broken off. Looking at +them Pierre realized what contempt and animosity they all felt for the +Rostovs, and that it was impossible in their presence even to +mention the name of her who could give up Prince Andrew for anyone +else. + +At dinner the talk turned on the war, the approach of which was +becoming evident. Prince Andrew talked incessantly, arguing now with +his father, now with the Swiss tutor Dessalles, and showing an +unnatural animation, the cause of which Pierre so well understood. + +CHAPTER XXII + +That same evening Pierre went to the Rostovs' to fulfill the +commission entrusted to him. Natasha was in bed, the count at the +Club, and Pierre, after giving the letters to Sonya, went to Marya +Dmitrievna who was interested to know how Prince Andrew had taken +the news. Ten minutes later Sonya came to Marya Dmitrievna. + +"Natasha insists on seeing Count Peter Kirilovich," said she. + +"But how? Are we to take him up to her? The room there has not +been tidied up." + +"No, she has dressed and gone into the drawing room," said Sonya. + +Marya Dmitrievna only shrugged her shoulders. + +"When will her mother come? She has worried me to death! Now mind, +don't tell her everything!" said she to Pierre. "One hasn't the +heart to scold her, she is so much to be pitied, so much to be +pitied." + +Natasha was standing in the middle of the drawing room, emaciated, +with a pale set face, but not at all shamefaced as Pierre expected +to find her. When he appeared at the door she grew flurried, evidently +undecided whether to go to meet him or to wait till he came up. + +Pierre hastened to her. He thought she would give him her hand as +usual; but she, stepping up to him, stopped, breathing heavily, her +arms hanging lifelessly just in the pose she used to stand in when she +went to the middle of the ballroom to sing, but with quite a different +expression of face. + +"Peter Kirilovich," she began rapidly, "Prince Bolkonski was your +friend- is your friend," she corrected herself. (It seemed to her that +everything that had once been must now be different.) "He told me once +to apply to you..." + +Pierre sniffed as he looked at her, but did not speak. Till then +he had reproached her in his heart and tried to despise her, but he +now felt so sorry for her that there was no room in his soul for +reproach. + +"He is here now: tell him... to for... forgive me!" She stopped +and breathed still more quickly, but did not shed tears. + +"Yes... I will tell him," answered Pierre; "but..." + +He did not know what to say. + +Natasha was evidently dismayed at the thought of what he might think +she had meant. + +"No, I know all is over," she said hurriedly. "No, that can never +be. I'm only tormented by the wrong I have done him. Tell him only +that I beg him to forgive, forgive, forgive me for everything...." + +She trembled all over and sat down on a chair. + +A sense of pity he had never before known overflowed Pierre's heart. + +"I will tell him, I will tell him everything once more," said +Pierre. "But... I should like to know one thing...." + +"Know what?" Natasha's eyes asked. + +"I should like to know, did you love..." Pierre did not know how +to refer to Anatole and flushed at the thought of him- "did you love +that bad man?" + +"Don't call him bad!" said Natasha. "But I don't know, don't know at +all...." + +She began to cry and a still greater sense of pity, tenderness, +and love welled up in Pierre. He felt the tears trickle under his +spectacles and hoped they would not be noticed. + +"We won't speak of it any more, my dear," said Pierre, and his +gentle, cordial tone suddenly seemed very strange to Natasha. + +"We won't speak of it, my dear- I'll tell him everything; but one +thing I beg of you, consider me your friend and if you want help, +advice, or simply to open your heart to someone- not now, but when +your mind is clearer think of me!" He took her hand and kissed it. +"I shall be happy if it's in my power..." + +Pierre grew confused. + +"Don't speak to me like that. I am not worth it!" exclaimed +Natasha and turned to leave the room, but Pierre held her hand. + +He knew he had something more to say to her. But when he said it +he was amazed at his own words. + +"Stop, stop! You have your whole life before you," said he to her. + +"Before me? No! All is over for me," she replied with shame and +self-abasement. + +"All over?" he repeated. "If I were not myself, but the handsomest, +cleverest, and best man in the world, and were free, I would this +moment ask on my knees for your hand and your love!" + +For the first time for many days Natasha wept tears of gratitude and +tenderness, and glancing at Pierre she went out of the room. + +Pierre too when she had gone almost ran into the anteroom, +restraining tears of tenderness and joy that choked him, and without +finding the sleeves of his fur cloak threw it on and got into his +sleigh. + +"Where to now, your excellency?" asked the coachman. + +"Where to?" Pierre asked himself. "Where can I go now? Surely not to +the Club or to pay calls?" All men seemed so pitiful, so poor, in +comparison with this feeling of tenderness and love he experienced: in +comparison with that softened, grateful, last look she had given him +through her tears. + +"Home!" said Pierre, and despite twenty-two degrees of frost +Fahrenheit he threw open the bearskin cloak from his broad chest and +inhaled the air with joy. + +It was clear and frosty. Above the dirty, ill-lit streets, above the +black roofs, stretched the dark starry sky. Only looking up at the sky +did Pierre cease to feel how sordid and humiliating were all mundane +things compared with the heights to which his soul had just been +raised. At the entrance to the Arbat Square an immense expanse of dark +starry sky presented itself to his eyes. Almost in the center of it, +above the Prechistenka Boulevard, surrounded and sprinkled on all +sides by stars but distinguished from them all by its nearness to +the earth, its white light, and its long uplifted tail, shone the +enormous and brilliant comet of 18l2- the comet which was said to +portend all kinds of woes and the end of the world. In Pierre, +however, that comet with its long luminous tail aroused no feeling +of fear. On the contrary he gazed joyfully, his eyes moist with tears, +at this bright comet which, having traveled in its orbit with +inconceivable velocity through immeasurable space, seemed suddenly- +like an arrow piercing the earth- to remain fixed in a chosen spot, +vigorously holding its tail erect, shining and displaying its white +light amid countless other scintillating stars. It seemed to Pierre +that this comet fully responded to what was passing in his own +softened and uplifted soul, now blossoming into a new life. + +BOOK NINE: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +From the close of the year 1811 intensified arming and concentrating +of the forces of Western Europe began, and in 1812 these forces- +millions of men, reckoning those transporting and feeding the army- +moved from the west eastwards to the Russian frontier, toward which +since 1811 Russian forces had been similarly drawn. On the twelfth +of June, 1812, the forces of Western Europe crossed the Russian +frontier and war began, that is, an event took place opposed to +human reason and to human nature. Millions of men perpetrated +against one another such innumerable crimes, frauds, treacheries, +thefts, forgeries, issues of false money, burglaries, incendiarisms, +and murders as in whole centuries are not recorded in the annals of +all the law courts of the world, but which those who committed them +did not at the time regard as being crimes. + +What produced this extraordinary occurrence? What were its causes? +The historians tell us with naive assurance that its causes were the +wrongs inflicted on the Duke of Oldenburg, the nonobservance of the +Continental System, the ambition of Napoleon, the firmness of +Alexander, the mistakes of the diplomatists, and so on. + +Consequently, it would only have been necessary for Metternich, +Rumyantsev, or Talleyrand, between a levee and an evening party, to +have taken proper pains and written a more adroit note, or for +Napoleon to have written to Alexander: "My respected Brother, I +consent to restore the duchy to the Duke of Oldenburg"- and there +would have been no war. + +We can understand that the matter seemed like that to +contemporaries. It naturally seemed to Napoleon that the war was +caused by England's intrigues (as in fact he said on the island of St. +Helena). It naturally seemed to members of the English Parliament that +the cause of the war was Napoleon's ambition; to the Duke of +Oldenburg, that the cause of the war was the violence done to him; +to businessmen that the cause of the way was the Continental System +which was ruining Europe; to the generals and old soldiers that the +chief reason for the war was the necessity of giving them +employment; to the legitimists of that day that it was the need of +re-establishing les bons principes, and to the diplomatists of that +time that it all resulted from the fact that the alliance between +Russia and Austria in 1809 had not been sufficiently well concealed +from Napoleon, and from the awkward wording of Memorandum No. 178. +It is natural that these and a countless and infinite quantity of +other reasons, the number depending on the endless diversity of points +of view, presented themselves to the men of that day; but to us, to +posterity who view the thing that happened in all its magnitude and +perceive its plain and terrible meaning, these causes seem +insufficient. To us it is incomprehensible that millions of +Christian men killed and tortured each other either because Napoleon +was ambitious or Alexander was firm, or because England's policy was +astute or the Duke of Oldenburg wronged. We cannot grasp what +connection such circumstances have with the actual fact of slaughter +and violence: why because the Duke was wronged, thousands of men +from the other side of Europe killed and ruined the people of Smolensk +and Moscow and were killed by them. + +To us, their descendants, who are not historians and are not carried +away by the process of research and can therefore regard the event +with unclouded common sense, an incalculable number of causes +present themselves. The deeper we delve in search of these causes +the more of them we find; and each separate cause or whole series of +causes appears to us equally valid in itself and equally false by +its insignificance compared to the magnitude of the events, and by its +impotence- apart from the cooperation of all the other coincident +causes- to occasion the event. To us, the wish or objection of this or +that French corporal to serve a second term appears as much a cause as +Napoleon's refusal to withdraw his troops beyond the Vistula and to +restore the duchy of Oldenburg; for had he not wished to serve, and +had a second, a third, and a thousandth corporal and private also +refused, there would have been so many less men in Napoleon's army and +the war could not have occurred. + +Had Napoleon not taken offense at the demand that he should withdraw +beyond the Vistula, and not ordered his troops to advance, there would +have been no war; but had all his sergeants objected to serving a +second term then also there could have been no war. Nor could there +have been a war had there been no English intrigues and no Duke of +Oldenburg, and had Alexander not felt insulted, and had there not been +an autocratic government in Russia, or a Revolution in France and a +subsequent dictatorship and Empire, or all the things that produced +the French Revolution, and so on. Without each of these causes nothing +could have happened. So all these causes- myriads of causes- coincided +to bring it about. And so there was no one cause for that +occurrence, but it had to occur because it had to. Millions of men, +renouncing their human feelings and reason, had to go from west to +east to slay their fellows, just as some centuries previously hordes +of men had come from the east to the west, slaying their fellows. + +The actions of Napoleon and Alexander, on whose words the event +seemed to hang, were as little voluntary as the actions of any soldier +who was drawn into the campaign by lot or by conscription. This +could not be otherwise, for in order that the will of Napoleon and +Alexander (on whom the event seemed to depend) should be carried +out, the concurrence of innumerable circumstances was needed without +any one of which the event could not have taken place. It was +necessary that millions of men in whose hands lay the real power- +the soldiers who fired, or transported provisions and guns- should +consent to carry out the will of these weak individuals, and should +have been induced to do so by an infinite number of diverse and +complex causes. + +We are forced to fall back on fatalism as an explanation of +irrational events (that is to say, events the reasonableness of +which we do not understand). The more we try to explain such events in +history reasonably, the more unreasonable and incomprehensible do they +become to us. + +Each man lives for himself, using his freedom to attain his personal +aims, and feels with his whole being that he can now do or abstain +from doing this or that action; but as soon as he has done it, that +action performed at a certain moment in time becomes irrevocable and +belongs to history, in which it has not a free but a predestined +significance. + +There are two sides to the life of every man, his individual life, +which is the more free the more abstract its interests, and his +elemental hive life in which he inevitably obeys laws laid down for +him. + +Man lives consciously for himself, but is an unconscious +instrument in the attainment of the historic, universal, aims of +humanity. A deed done is irrevocable, and its result coinciding in +time with the actions of millions of other men assumes an historic +significance. The higher a man stands on the social ladder, the more +people he is connected with and the more power he has over others, the +more evident is the predestination and inevitability of his every +action. + +"The king's heart is in the hands of the Lord." + +A king is history's slave. + +History, that is, the unconscious, general, hive life of mankind, +uses every moment of the life of kings as a tool for its own purposes. + +Though Napoleon at that time, in 1812, was more convinced than +ever that it depended on him, verser (ou ne pas verser) le sang de ses +peuples~^ as Alexander expressed it in the last letter he wrote him- +he had never been so much in the grip of inevitable laws, which +compelled him, while thinking that he was acting on his own +volition, to perform for the hive life- that is to say, for history- +whatever had to be performed. + +^~ "To shed (or not to shed) the blood of his peoples." + +The people of the west moved eastwards to slay their fellow men, and +by the law of coincidence thousands of minute causes fitted in and +co-ordinated to produce that movement and war: reproaches for the +nonobservance of the Continental System, the Duke of Oldenburg's +wrongs, the movement of troops into Prussia- undertaken (as it +seemed to Napoleon) only for the purpose of securing an armed peace, +the French Emperor's love and habit of war coinciding with his +people's inclinations, allurement by the grandeur of the preparations, +and the expenditure on those preparations and the need of obtaining +advantages to compensate for that expenditure, the intoxicating honors +he received in Dresden, the diplomatic negotiations which, in the +opinion of contemporaries, were carried on with a sincere desire to +attain peace, but which only wounded the self-love of both sides, +and millions and millions of other causes that adapted themselves to +the event that was happening or coincided with it. + +When an apple has ripened and falls, why does it fall? Because of +its attraction to the earth, because its stalk withers, because it +is dried by the sun, because it grows heavier, because the wind shakes +it, or because the boy standing below wants to eat it? + +Nothing is the cause. All this is only the coincidence of conditions +in which all vital organic and elemental events occur. And the +botanist who finds that the apple falls because the cellular tissue +decays and so forth is equally right with the child who stands under +the tree and says the apple fell because he wanted to eat it and +prayed for it. Equally right or wrong is he who says that Napoleon +went to Moscow because he wanted to, and perished because Alexander +desired his destruction, and he who says that an undermined hill +weighing a million tons fell because the last navvy struck it for +the last time with his mattock. In historic events the so-called great +men are labels giving names to events, and like labels they have but +the smallest connection with the event itself. + +Every act of theirs, which appears to them an act of their own will, +is in an historical sense involuntary and is related to the whole +course of history and predestined from eternity. + +CHAPTER II + +On the twenty-ninth of May Napoleon left Dresden, where he had spent +three weeks surrounded by a court that included princes, dukes, kings, +and even an emperor. Before leaving, Napoleon showed favor to the +emperor, kings, and princes who had deserved it, reprimanded the kings +and princes with whom he was dissatisfied, presented pearls and +diamonds of his own- that is, which he had taken from other kings- +to the Empress of Austria, and having, as his historian tells us, +tenderly embraced the Empress Marie Louise- who regarded him as her +husband, though he had left another wife in Paris- left her grieved by +the parting which she seemed hardly able to bear. Though the +diplomatists still firmly believed in the possibility of peace and +worked zealously to that end, and though the Emperor Napoleon +himself wrote a letter to Alexander, calling him Monsieur mon frere, +and sincerely assured him that he did not want war and would always +love and honor him- yet he set off to join his army, and at every +station gave fresh orders to accelerate the movement of his troops +from west to east. He went in a traveling coach with six horses, +surrounded by pages, aides-de-camp, and an escort, along the road to +Posen, Thorn, Danzig, and Konigsberg. At each of these towns thousands +of people met him with excitement and enthusiasm. + +The army was moving from west to east, and relays of six horses +carried him in the same direction. On the tenth of June,~^ coming up +with the army, he spent the night in apartments prepared for him on +the estate of a Polish count in the Vilkavisski forest. + +^~ Old style. + +Next day, overtaking the army, he went in a carriage to the +Niemen, and, changing into a Polish uniform, he drove to the riverbank +in order to select a place for the crossing. + +Seeing, on the other side, some Cossacks (les Cosaques) and the +wide-spreading steppes in the midst of which lay the holy city of +Moscow (Moscou, la ville sainte), the capital of a realm such as the +Scythia into which Alexander the Great had marched- Napoleon +unexpectedly, and contrary alike to strategic and diplomatic +considerations, ordered an advance, and the next day his army began to +cross the Niemen. + +Early in the morning of the twelfth of June he came out of his tent, +which was pitched that day on the steep left bank of the Niemen, and +looked through a spyglass at the streams of his troops pouring out +of the Vilkavisski forest and flowing over the three bridges thrown +across the river. The troops, knowing of the Emperor's presence, +were on the lookout for him, and when they caught sight of a figure in +an overcoat and a cocked hat standing apart from his suite in front of +his tent on the hill, they threw up their caps and shouted: "Vive +l'Empereur!" and one after another poured in a ceaseless stream out of +the vast forest that had concealed them and, separating, flowed on and +on by the three bridges to the other side. + +"Now we'll go into action. Oh, when he takes it in hand himself, +things get hot... by heaven!... There he is!... Vive l'Empereur! So +these are the steppes of Asia! It's a nasty country all the same. Au +revoir, Beauche; I'll keep the best palace in Moscow for you! Au +revoir. Good luck!... Did you see the Emperor? Vive l'Empereur!... +preur!- If they make me Governor of India, Gerard, I'll make you +Minister of Kashmir- that's settled. Vive l'Empereur! Hurrah! +hurrah! hurrah! The Cossacks- those rascals- see how they run! Vive +l'Empereur! There he is, do you see him? I've seen him twice, as I see +you now. The little corporal... I saw him give the cross to one of the +veterans.... Vive l'Empereur!" came the voices of men, old and +young, of most diverse characters and social positions. On the faces +of all was one common expression of joy at the commencement of the +long-expected campaign and of rapture and devotion to the man in the +gray coat who was standing on the hill. + +On the thirteenth of June a rather small, thoroughbred Arab horse +was brought to Napoleon. He mounted it and rode at a gallop to one +of the bridges over the Niemen, deafened continually by incessant +and rapturous acclamations which he evidently endured only because +it was impossible to forbid the soldiers to express their love of +him by such shouting, but the shouting which accompanied him +everywhere disturbed him and distracted him from the military cares +that had occupied him from the time he joined the army. He rode across +one of the swaying pontoon bridges to the farther side, turned sharply +to the left, and galloped in the direction of Kovno, preceded by +enraptured, mounted chasseurs of the Guard who, breathless with +delight, galloped ahead to clear a path for him through the troops. On +reaching the broad river Viliya, he stopped near a regiment of +Polish Uhlans stationed by the river. + +"Vivat!" shouted the Poles, ecstatically, breaking their ranks and +pressing against one another to see him. + +Napoleon looked up and down the river, dismounted, and sat down on a +log that lay on the bank. At a mute sign from him, a telescope was +handed him which he rested on the back of a happy page who had run +up to him, and he gazed at the opposite bank. Then he became +absorbed in a map laid out on the logs. Without lifting his head he +said something, and two of his aides-de-camp galloped off to the +Polish Uhlans. + +"What? What did he say?" was heard in the ranks of the Polish Uhlans +when one of the aides-de-camp rode up to them. + +The order was to find a ford and to cross the river. The colonel +of the Polish Uhlans, a handsome old man, flushed and, fumbling in his +speech from excitement, asked the aide-de-camp whether he would be +permitted to swim the river with his Uhlans instead of seeking a ford. +In evident fear of refusal, like a boy asking for permission to get on +a horse, he begged to be allowed to swim across the river before the +Emperor's eyes. The aide-de-camp replied that probably the Emperor +would not be displeased at this excess of zeal. + +As soon as the aide-de-camp had said this, the old mustached +officer, with happy face and sparkling eyes, raised his saber, shouted +"Vivat!" and, commanding the Uhlans to follow him, spurred his horse +and galloped into the river. He gave an angry thrust to his horse, +which had grown restive under him, and plunged into the water, heading +for the deepest part where the current was swift. Hundreds of Uhlans +galloped in after him. It was cold and uncanny in the rapid current in +the middle of the stream, and the Uhlans caught hold of one another as +they fell off their horses. Some of the horses were drowned and some +of the men; the others tried to swim on, some in the saddle and some +clinging to their horses' manes. They tried to make their way +forward to the opposite bank and, though there was a ford one third of +a mile away, were proud that they were swimming and drowning in this +river under the eyes of the man who sat on the log and was not even +looking at what they were doing. When the aide-de-camp, having +returned and choosing an opportune moment, ventured to draw the +Emperor's attention to the devotion of the Poles to his person, the +little man in the gray overcoat got up and, having summoned +Berthier, began pacing up and down the bank with him, giving him +instructions and occasionally glancing disapprovingly at the +drowning Uhlans who distracted his attention. + +For him it was no new conviction that his presence in any part of +the world, from Africa to the steppes of Muscovy alike, was enough +to dumfound people and impel them to insane self-oblivion. He called +for his horse and rode to his quarters. + +Some forty Uhlans were drowned in the river, though boats were +sent to their assistance. The majority struggled back to the bank from +which they had started. The colonel and some of his men got across and +with difficulty clambered out on the further bank. And as soon as they +had got out, in their soaked and streaming clothes, they shouted +"Vivat!" and looked ecstatically at the spot where Napoleon had been +but where he no longer was and at that moment considered themselves +happy. + +That evening, between issuing one order that the forged Russian +paper money prepared for use in Russia should be delivered as +quickly as possible and another that a Saxon should be shot, on whom a +letter containing information about the orders to the French army +had been found, Napoleon also gave instructions that the Polish +colonel who had needlessly plunged into the river should be enrolled +in the Legion d'honneur of which Napoleon was himself the head. + +Quos vult perdere dementat.~^ + +^~ Those whom (God) wishes to destroy he drives mad. + +CHAPTER III + +The Emperor of Russia had, meanwhile, been in Vilna for more than +a month. reviewing troops and holding maneuvers. Nothing was ready for +the war that everyone expected and to prepare for which the Emperor +had come from Petersburg. There was no general plan of action. The +vacillation between the various plans that were proposed had even +increased after the Emperor had been at headquarters for a month. Each +of the three armies had its own commander in chief, but there was no +supreme commander of all the forces, and the Emperor did not assume +that responsibility himself. + +The longer the Emperor remained in Vilna the less did everybody- +tired of waiting- prepare for the war. All the efforts of those who +surrounded the sovereign seemed directed merely to making him spend +his time pleasantly and forget that war was impending. + +In June, after many balls and fetes given by the Polish magnates, by +the courtiers, and by the Emperor himself, it occurred to one of the +Polish aides-de-camp in attendance that a dinner and ball should be +given for the Emperor by his aides-de-camp. This idea was eagerly +received. The Emperor gave his consent. The aides-de-camp collected +money by subscription. The lady who was thought to be most pleasing to +the Emperor was invited to act as hostess. Count Bennigsen, being a +landowner in the Vilna province, offered his country house for the +fete, and the thirteenth of June was fixed for a ball, dinner, +regatta, and fireworks at Zakret, Count Bennigsen's country seat. + +The very day that Napoleon issued the order to cross the Niemen, and +his vanguard, driving off the Cossacks, crossed the Russian +frontier, Alexander spent the evening at the entertainment given by +his aides-de-camp at Bennigsen's country house. + +It was a gay and brilliant fete. Connoisseurs of such matters +declared that rarely had so many beautiful women been assembled in one +place. Countess Bezukhova was present among other Russian ladies who +had followed the sovereign from Petersburg to Vilna and eclipsed the +refined Polish ladies by her massive, so called Russian type of +beauty. The Emperor noticed her and honored her with a dance. + +Boris Drubetskoy, having left his wife in Moscow and being for the +present en garcon (as he phrased it), was also there and, though not +an aide-de-camp, had subscribed a large sum toward the expenses. Boris +was now a rich man who had risen to high honors and no longer sought +patronage but stood on an equal footing with the highest of those of +his own age. He was meeting Helene in Vilna after not having seen +her for a long time and did not recall the past, but as Helene was +enjoying the favors of a very important personage and Boris had only +recently married, they met as good friends of long standing. + +At midnight dancing was still going on. Helene, not having a +suitable partner, herself offered to dance the mazurka with Boris. +They were the third couple. Boris, coolly looking at Helene's dazzling +bare shoulders which emerged from a dark, gold-embroidered, gauze +gown, talked to her of old acquaintances and at the same time, unaware +of it himself and unnoticed by others, never for an instant ceased +to observe the Emperor who was in the same room. The Emperor was not +dancing, he stood in the doorway, stopping now one pair and now +another with gracious words which he alone knew how to utter. + +As the mazurka began, Boris saw that Adjutant General Balashev, +one of those in closest attendance on the Emperor, went up to him +and contrary to court etiquette stood near him while he was talking to +a Polish lady. Having finished speaking to her, the Emperor looked +inquiringly at Balashev and, evidently understanding that he only +acted thus because there were important reasons for so doing, nodded +slightly to the lady and turned to him. Hardly had Balashev begun to +speak before a look of amazement appeared on the Emperor's face. He +took Balashev by the arm and crossed the room with him, +unconsciously clearing a path seven yards wide as the people on both +sides made way for him. Boris noticed Arakcheev's excited face when +the sovereign went out with Balashev. Arakcheev looked at the +Emperor from under his brow and, sniffing with his red nose, stepped +forward from the crowd as if expecting the Emperor to address him. +(Boris understood that Arakcheev envied Balashev and was displeased +that evidently important news had reached the Emperor otherwise than +through himself.) + +But the Emperor and Balashev passed out into the illuminated +garden without noticing Arakcheev who, holding his sword and +glancing wrathfully around, followed some twenty paces behind them. + +All the time Boris was going through the figures of the mazurka, +he was worried by the question of what news Balashev had brought and +how he could find it out before others. In the figure in which he +had to choose two ladies, he whispered to Helene that he meant to +choose Countess Potocka who, he thought, had gone out onto the +veranda, and glided over the parquet to the door opening into the +garden, where, seeing Balashev and the Emperor returning to the +veranda, he stood still. They were moving toward the door. Boris, +fluttering as if he had not had time to withdraw, respectfully pressed +close to the doorpost with bowed head. + +The Emperor, with the agitation of one who has been personally +affronted, was finishing with these words: + +"To enter Russia without declaring war! I will not make peace as +long as a single armed enemy remains in my country!" It seemed to +Boris that it gave the Emperor pleasure to utter these words. He was +satisfied with the form in which he had expressed his thoughts, but +displeased that Boris had overheard it. + +"Let no one know of it! " the Emperor added with a frown. + +Boris understood that this was meant for him and, closing his +eyes, slightly bowed his head. The Emperor re-entered the ballroom and +remained there about another half-hour. + +Boris was thus the first to learn the news that the French army +had crossed the Niemen and, thanks to this, was able to show certain +important personages that much that was concealed from others was +usually known to him, and by this means he rose higher in their +estimation. + +The unexpected news of the French having crossed the Niemen was +particularly startling after a month of unfulfilled expectations, +and at a ball. On first receiving the news, under the influence of +indignation and resentment the Emperor had found a phrase that pleased +him, fully expressed his feelings, and has since become famous. On +returning home at two o'clock that night he sent for his secretary, +Shishkov, and told him to write an order to the troops and a +rescript to Field Marshal Prince Saltykov, in which he insisted on the +words being inserted that he would not make peace so long as a +single armed Frenchman remained on Russian soil. + +Next day the following letter was sent to Napoleon: + +Monsieur mon frere, + +Yesterday I learned that, despite the loyalty which I have kept my +engagements with Your Majesty, your troops have crossed the Russian +frontier, and I have this moment received from Petersburg a note, in +which Count Lauriston informs me, as a reason for this aggression, +that Your Majesty has considered yourself to be in a state of war with +me from the time Prince Kuragin asked for his passports. The reasons +on which the Duc de Bassano based his refusal to deliver them to him +would never have led me to suppose that that could serve as a +pretext for aggression. In fact, the ambassador, as he himself has +declared, was never authorized to make that demand, and as soon as I +was informed of it I let him know how much I disapproved of it and +ordered him to remain at his post. If Your Majesty does not intend +to shed the blood of our peoples for such a misunderstanding, and +consents to withdraw your troops from Russian territory, I will regard +what has passed as not having occurred and an understanding between us +will be possible. In the contrary case, Your Majesty, I shall see +myself forced to repel an attack that nothing on my part has provoked. +It still depends on Your Majesty to preserve humanity from the +calamity of another war. I am, etc., + +(signed) Alexander + +CHAPTER IV + +At two in the morning of the fourteenth of June, the Emperor, having +sent for Balashev and read him his letter to Napoleon, ordered him +to take it and hand it personally to the French Emperor. When +dispatching Balashev, the Emperor repeated to him the words that he +would not make peace so long as a single armed enemy remained on +Russian soil and told him to transmit those words to Napoleon. +Alexander did not insert them in his letter to Napoleon, because +with his characteristic tact he felt it would be injudicious to use +them at a moment when a last attempt at reconciliation was being made, +but he definitely instructed Balashev to repeat them personally to +Napoleon. + +Having set off in the small hours of the fourteenth, accompanied +by a bugler and two Cossacks, Balashev reached the French outposts +at the village of Rykonty, on the Russian side of the Niemen, by dawn. +There he was stopped by French cavalry sentinels. + +A French noncommissioned officer of hussars, in crimson uniform +and a shaggy cap, shouted to the approaching Balashev to halt. +Balashev did not do so at once, but continued to advance along the +road at a walking pace. + +The noncommissioned officer frowned and, muttering words of abuse, +advanced his horse's chest against Balashev, put his hand to his +saber, and shouted rudely at the Russian general, asking: was he +deaf that he did not do as he was told? Balashev mentioned who he was. +The noncommissioned officer began talking with his comrades about +regimental matters without looking at the Russian general. + +After living at the seat of the highest authority and power, after +conversing with the Emperor less than three hours before, and in +general being accustomed to the respect due to his rank in the +service, Balashev found it very strange here on Russian soil to +encounter this hostile, and still more this disrespectful, application +of brute force to himself. + +The sun was only just appearing from behind the clouds, the air +was fresh and dewy. A herd of cattle was being driven along the road +from the village, and over the fields the larks rose trilling, one +after another, like bubbles rising in water. + +Balashev looked around him, awaiting the arrival of an officer +from the village. The Russian Cossacks and bugler and the French +hussars looked silently at one another from time to time. + +A French colonel of hussars, who had evidently just left his bed, +came riding from the village on a handsome sleek gray horse, +accompanied by two hussars. The officer, the soldiers, and their +horses all looked smart and well kept. + +It was that first period of a campaign when troops are still in full +trim, almost like that of peacetime maneuvers, but with a shade of +martial swagger in their clothes, and a touch of the gaiety and spirit +of enterprise which always accompany the opening of a campaign. + +The French colonel with difficulty repressed a yawn, but was +polite and evidently understood Balashev's importance. He led him past +his soldiers and behind the outposts and told him that his wish to +be presented to the Emperor would most likely be satisfied +immediately, as the Emperor's quarters were, he believed, not far off. + +They rode through the village of Rykonty, past tethered French +hussar horses, past sentinels and men who saluted their colonel and +stared with curiosity at a Russian uniform, and came out at the +other end of the village. The colonel said that the commander of the +division was a mile and a quarter away and would receive Balashev +and conduct him to his destination. + +The sun had by now risen and shone gaily on the bright verdure. + +They had hardly ridden up a hill, past a tavern, before they saw a +group of horsemen coming toward them. In front of the group, on a +black horse with trappings that glittered in the sun, rode a tall +man with plumes in his hat and black hair curling down to his +shoulders. He wore a red mantle, and stretched his long legs forward +in French fashion. This man rode toward Balashev at a gallop, his +plumes flowing and his gems and gold lace glittering in the bright +June sunshine. + +Balashev was only two horses' length from the equestrian with the +bracelets, plunies, necklaces, and gold embroidery, who was +galloping toward him with a theatrically solemn countenance, when +Julner, the French colonel, whispered respectfully: "The King of +Naples!" It was, in fact, Murat, now called "King of Naples." Though +it was quite incomprehensible why he should be King of Naples, he +was called so, and was himself convinced that he was so, and therefore +assumed a more solemn and important air than formerly. He was so +sure that he really was the King of Naples that when, on the eve of +his departure from that city, while walking through the streets with +his wife, some Italians called out to him: "Viva il re!"~^ he turned to +his wife with a pensive smile and said: "Poor fellows, they don't know +that I am leaving them tomorrow!" + +^~ "Long live the king." + +But though he firmly believed himself to be King of Naples and +pitied the grief felt by the subjects he was abandoning, latterly, +after he had been ordered to return to military service- and +especially since his last interview with Napoleon in Danzig, when +his august brother-in-law had told him: "I made you King that you +should reign in my way, but not in yours!"- he had cheerfully taken up +his familiar business, and- like a well-fed but not overfat horse that +feels himself in harness and grows skittish between the shafts- he +dressed up in clothes as variegated and expensive as possible, and +gaily and contentedly galloped along the roads of Poland, without +himself knowing why or whither. + +On seeing the Russian general he threw back his head, with its +long hair curling to his shoulders, in a majestically royal manner, +and looked inquiringly at the French colonel. The colonel respectfully +informed His Majesty of Balashev's mission, whose name he could not +pronounce. + +"De Bal-macheve!" said the King (overcoming by his assurance the +difficulty that had presented itself to the colonel). "Charmed to make +your acquaintance, General!" he added, with a gesture of kingly +condescension. + +As soon as the King began to speak loud and fast his royal dignity +instantly forsook him, and without noticing it he passed into his +natural tone of good-natured familiarity. He laid his hand on the +withers of Balashev's horse and said: + +"Well, General, it all looks like war," as if regretting a +circumstance of which he was unable to judge. + +"Your Majesty," replied Balashev, "my master, the Emperor, does +not desire war and as Your Majesty sees..." said Balashev, using the +words Your Majesty at every opportunity, with the affectation +unavoidable in frequently addressing one to whom the title was still a +novelty. + +Murat's face beamed with stupid satisfaction as he listened to +"Monsieur de Bal-macheve." But royaute oblige!~^ and he felt it +incumbent on him, as a king and an ally, to confer on state affairs +with Alexander's envoy. He dismounted, took Balashev's arm, and moving +a few steps away from his suite, which waited respectfully, began to +pace up and down with him, trying to speak significantly. He +referred to the fact that the Emperor Napoleon had resented the demand +that he should withdraw his troops from Prussia, especially when +that demand became generally known and the dignity of France was +thereby offended. + +^~ "Royalty has its obligations." + +Balashev replied that there was nothing offensive in the demand, +because..." but Murat interrupted him. + +"Then you don't consider the Emperor Alexander the aggressor?" he +asked unexpectedly, with a kindly and foolish smile. + +Balashev told him why he considered Napoleon to be the originator of +the war. + +"Oh, my dear general!" Murat again interrupted him, "with all my +heart I wish the Emperors may arrange the affair between them, and +that the war begun by no wish of mine may finish as quickly as +possible!" said he, in the tone of a servant who wants to remain +good friends with another despite a quarrel between their masters. + +And he went on to inquiries about the Grand Duke and the state of +his health, and to reminiscences of the gay and amusing times he had +spent with him in Naples. Then suddenly, as if remembering his royal +dignity, Murat solemnly drew himself up, assumed the pose in which +he had stood at his coronation. and, waving his right arm, said: + +"I won't detain you longer, General. I wish success to your +mission," and with his embroidered red mantle, his flowing feathers, +and his glittering ornaments, he rejoined his suite who were +respectfully awaiting him. + +Balashev rode on, supposing from Murat's words that he would very +soon be brought before Napoleon himself. But instead of that, at the +next village the sentinels of Davout's infantry corps detained him +as the pickets of the vanguard had done, and an adjutant of the +corps commander, who was fetched, conducted him into the village to +Marshal Davout. + +CHAPTER V + +Davout was to Napoleon what Arakcheev was to Alexander- though not a +coward like Arakcheev, he was as precise, as cruel, and as unable to +express his devotion to his monarch except by cruelty. + +In the organism of states such men are necessary, as wolves are +necessary in the organism of nature, and they always exist, always +appear and hold their own, however incongruous their presence and +their proximity to the head of the government may be. This +inevitability alone can explain how the cruel Arakcheev, who tore +out a grenadier's mustache with his own hands, whose weak nerves +rendered him unable to face danger, and who was neither an educated +man nor a courtier, was able to maintain his powerful position with +Alexander, whose own character was chivalrous, noble, and gentle. + +Balashev found Davout seated on a barrel in the shed of a +peasant's hut, writing- he was auditing accounts. Better quarters +could have been found him, but Marshal Davout was one of those men who +purposely put themselves in most depressing conditions to have a +justification for being gloomy. For the same reason they are always +hard at work and in a hurry. "How can I think of the bright side of +life when, as you see, I am sitting on a barrel and working in a dirty +shed?" the expression of his face seemed to say. The chief pleasure +and necessity of such men, when they encounter anyone who shows +animation, is to flaunt their own dreary, persistent activity. +Davout allowed himself that pleasure when Balashev was brought in. +He became still more absorbed in his task when the Russian general +entered, and after glancing over his spectacles at Balashev's face, +which was animated by the beauty of the morning and by his talk with +Murat, he did not rise or even stir, but scowled still more and +sneered malevolently. + +When he noticed in Balashev's face the disagreeable impression +this reception produced, Davout raised his head and coldly asked +what he wanted. + +Thinking he could have been received in such a manner only because +Davout did not know that he was adjutant general to the Emperor +Alexander and even his envoy to Napoleon, Balashev hastened to +inform him of his rank and mission. Contrary to his expectation, +Davout, after hearing him, became still surlier and ruder. + +"Where is your dispatch?" he inquired. "Give it to me. I will send +it to the Emperor." + +Balashev replied that he had been ordered to hand it personally to +the Emperor. + +"Your Emperor's orders are obeyed in your army, but here," said +Davout, "you must do as you're told." + +And, as if to make the Russian general still more conscious of his +dependence on brute force, Davout sent an adjutant to call the officer +on duty. + +Balashev took out the packet containing the Emperor's letter and +laid it on the table (made of a door with its hinges still hanging +on it, laid across two barrels). Davout took the packet and read the +inscription. + +"You are perfectly at liberty to treat me with respect or not," +protested Balashev, "but permit me to observe that I have the honor to +be adjutant general to His Majesty...." + +Davout glanced at him silently and plainly derived pleasure from the +signs of agitation and confusion which appeared on Balashev's face. + +"You will be treated as is fitting," said he and, putting the packet +in his pocket, left the shed. + +A minute later the marshal's adjutant, de Castres, came in and +conducted Balashev to the quarters assigned him. + +That day he dined with the marshal, at the same board on the +barrels. + +Next day Davout rode out early and, after asking Balashev to come to +him, peremptorily requested him to remain there, to move on with the +baggage train should orders come for it to move, and to talk to no one +except Monsieur de Castres. + +After four days of solitude, ennui, and consciousness of his +impotence and insignificance- particularly acute by contrast with +the sphere of power in which he had so lately moved- and after several +marches with the marshal's baggage and the French army, which occupied +the whole district, Balashev was brought to Vilna- now occupied by the +French- through the very gate by which he had left it four days +previously. + +Next day the imperial gentleman-in-waiting, the Comte de Turenne, +came to Balashev and informed him of the Emperor Napoleon's wish to +honor him with an audience. + +Four days before, sentinels of the Preobrazhensk regiment had +stood in front of the house to which Balashev was conducted, and now +two French grenadiers stood there in blue uniforms unfastened in front +and with shaggy caps on their heads, and an escort of hussars and +Uhlans and a brilliant suite of aides-de-camp, pages, and generals, +who were waiting for Napoleon to come out, were standing at the porch, +round his saddle horse and his Mameluke, Rustan. Napoleon received +Balashev in the very house in Vilna from which Alexander had +dispatched him on his mission. + +CHAPTER VI + +Though Balashev was used to imperial pomp, he was amazed at the +luxury and magnificence of Napoleon's court. + +The Comte de Turenne showed him into a big reception room where many +generals, gentlemen-in-waiting, and Polish magnates- several of whom +Balashev had seen at the court of the Emperor of Russia- were waiting. +Duroc said that Napoleon would receive the Russian general before +going for his ride. + +After some minutes, the gentleman-in-waiting who was on duty came +into the great reception room and, bowing politely, asked Balashev +to follow him. + +Balashev went into a small reception room, one door of which led +into a study, the very one from which the Russian Emperor had +dispatched him on his mission. He stood a minute or two, waiting. He +heard hurried footsteps beyond the door, both halves of it were opened +rapidly; all was silent and then from the study the sound was heard of +other steps, firm and resolute- they were those of Napoleon. He had +just finished dressing for his ride, and wore a blue uniform, +opening in front over a white waistcoat so long that it covered his +rotund stomach, white leather breeches tightly fitting the fat +thighs of his short legs, and Hessian boots. His short hair had +evidently just been brushed, but one lock hung down in the middle of +his broad forehead. His plump white neck stood out sharply above the +black collar of his uniform, and he smelled of Eau de Cologne. His +full face, rather young-looking, with its prominent chin, wore a +gracious and majestic expression of imperial welcome. + +He entered briskly, with a jerk at every step and his head +slightly thrown back. His whole short corpulent figure with broad +thick shoulders, and chest and stomach involuntarily protruding, had +that imposing and stately appearance one sees in men of forty who live +in comfort. It was evident, too, that he was in the best of spirits +that day. + +He nodded in answer to Balashav's low and respectful bow, and coming +up to him at once began speaking like a man who values every moment of +his time and does not condescend to prepare what he has to say but +is sure he will always say the right thing and say it well. + +"Good day, General!" said he. "I have received the letter you +brought from the Emperor Alexander and am very glad to see you." He +glanced with his large eyes into Balashav's face and immediately +looked past him. + +It was plain that Balashev's personality did not interest him at +all. Evidently only what took place within his own mind interested +him. Nothing outside himself had any significance for him, because +everything in the world, it seemed to him, depended entirely on his +will. + +"I do not, and did not, desire war," he continued, "but it has +been forced on me. Even now" (he emphasized the word) "I am ready to +receive any explanations you can give me." + +And he began clearly and concisely to explain his reasons for +dissatisfaction with the Russian government. Judging by the calmly +moderate and amicable tone in which the French Emperor spoke, Balashev +was firmly persuaded that he wished for peace and intended to enter +into negotiations. + +When Napoleon, having finished speaking, looked inquiringly at the +Russian envoy, Balashev began a speech he had prepared long before: +"Sire! The Emperor, my master..." but the sight of the Emperor's +eyes bent on him confused him. "You are flurried- compose yourself!" +Napoleon seemed to say, as with a scarcely perceptible smile he looked +at Balashev's uniform and sword. + +Balashev recovered himself and began to speak. He said that the +Emperor Alexander did not consider Kurakin's demand for his +passports a sufficient cause for war; that Kurakin had acted on his +own initiative and without his sovereign's assent, that the Emperor +Alexander did not desire war, and had no relations with England. + +"Not yet!" interposed Napoleon, and, as if fearing to give vent to +his feelings, he frowned and nodded slightly as a sign that Balashev +might proceed. + +After saying all he had been instructed to say, Balashev added +that the Emperor Alexander wished for peace, but would not enter +into negotiations except on condition that... Here Balashev hesitated: +he remembered the words the Emperor Alexander had not written in his +letter, but had specially inserted in the rescript to Saltykov and had +told Balashev to repeat to Napoleon. Balashev remembered these +words, "So long as a single armed foe remains on Russian soil," but +some complex feeling restrained him. He could not utter them, though +he wished to do so. He grew confused and said: "On condition that +the French army retires beyond the Niemen." + +Napoleon noticed Balashev's embarrassment when uttering these last +words; his face twitched and the calf of his left leg began to +quiver rhythmically. Without moving from where he stood he began +speaking in a louder tone and more hurriedly than before. During the +speech that followed, Balashev, who more than once lowered his eyes, +involuntarily noticed the quivering of Napoleon's left leg which +increased the more Napoleon raised his voice. + +"I desire peace, no less than the Emperor Alexander," he began. +"Have I not for eighteen months been doing everything to obtain it? +I have waited eighteen months for explanations. But in order to +begin negotiations, what is demanded of me?" he said, frowning and +making an energetic gesture of inquiry with his small white plump +hand. + +"The withdrawal of your army beyond the Niemen, sire," replied +Balashev. + +"The Niemen?" repeated Napoleon. "So now you want me to retire +beyond the Niemen- only the Niemen?" repeated Napoleon, looking +straight at Balashev. + +The latter bowed his head respectfully. + +Instead of the demand of four months earlier to withdraw from +Pomerania, only a withdrawal beyond the Niemen was now demanded. +Napoleon turned quickly and began to pace the room. + +"You say the demand now is that I am to withdraw beyond the Niemen +before commencing negotiations, but in just the same way two months +ago the demand was that I should withdraw beyond the Vistula and the +Oder, and yet you are willing to negotiate." + +He went in silence from one corner of the room to the other and +again stopped in front of Balashev. Balashev noticed that his left leg +was quivering faster than before and his face seemed petrified in +its stern expression. This quivering of his left leg was a thing +Napoleon was conscious of. "The vibration of my left calf is a great +sign with me," he remarked at a later date. + +"Such demands as to retreat beyond the Vistula and Oder may be +made to a Prince of Baden, but not to me!" Napoleon almost screamed, +quite to his own surprise. "If you gave me Petersburg and Moscow I +could not accept such conditions. You say I have begun this war! But +who first joined his army? The Emperor Alexander, not I! And you offer +me negotiations when I have expended millions, when you are in +alliance with England, and when your position is a bad one. You +offer me negotiations! But what is the aim of your alliance with +England? What has she given you?" he continued hurriedly, evidently no +longer trying to show the advantages of peace and discuss its +possibility, but only to prove his own rectitude and power and +Alexander's errors and duplicity. + +The commencement of his speech had obviously been made with the +intention of demonstrating the advantages of his position and +showing that he was nevertheless willing to negotiate. But he had +begun talking, and the more he talked the less could he control his +words. + +The whole purport of his remarks now was evidently to exalt +himself and insult Alexander- just what he had least desired at the +commencement of the interview. + +"I hear you have made peace with Turkey?" + +Balashev bowed his head affirmatively. + +"Peace has been concluded..." he began. + +But Napoleon did not let him speak. He evidently wanted to do all +the talking himself, and continued to talk with the sort of +eloquence and unrestrained irritability to which spoiled people are so +prone. + +"Yes, I know you have made peace with the Turks without obtaining +Moldavia and Wallachia; I would have given your sovereign those +provinces as I gave him Finland. Yes," he went on, "I promised and +would have given the Emperor Alexander Moldavia and Wallachia, and now +he won't have those splendid provinces. Yet he might have united +them to his empire and in a single reign would have extended Russia +from the Gulf of Bothnia to the mouths of the Danube. Catherine the +Great could not have done more," said Napoleon, growing more and +more excited as he paced up and down the room, repeating to Balashev +almost the very words he had used to Alexander himself at Tilsit. "All +that, he would have owed to my friendship. Oh, what a splendid reign!" +he repeated several times, then paused, drew from his pocket a gold +snuffbox, lifted it to his nose, and greedily sniffed at it. + +"What a splendid reign the Emperor Alexander's might have been!" + +He looked compassionately at Balashev, and as soon as the latter +tried to make some rejoinder hastily interrupted him. + +"What could he wish or look for that he would not have obtained +through my friendship?" demanded Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders +in perplexity. "But no, he has preferred to surround himself with my +enemies, and with whom? With Steins, Armfeldts, Bennigsens, and +Wintzingerodes! Stein, a traitor expelled from his own country; +Armfeldt, a rake and an intriguer; Wintzingerode, a fugitive French +subject; Bennigsen, rather more of a soldier than the others, but +all the same an incompetent who was unable to do anything in 1807 +and who should awaken terrible memories in the Emperor Alexander's +mind.... Granted that were they competent they might be made use +of," continued Napoleon- hardly able to keep pace in words with the +rush of thoughts that incessantly sprang up, proving how right and +strong he was (in his perception the two were one and the same)- +"but they are not even that! They are neither fit for war nor peace! +Barclay is said to be the most capable of them all, but I cannot say +so, judging by his first movements. And what are they doing, all these +courtiers? Pfuel proposes, Armfeldt disputes, Bennigsen considers, and +Barclay, called on to act, does not know what to decide on, and time +passes bringing no result. Bagration alone is a military man. He's +stupid, but he has experience, a quick eye, and resolution.... And +what role is your young monarch playing in that monstrous crowd? +They compromise him and throw on him the responsibility for all that +happens. A sovereign should not be with the army unless he is a +general!" said Napoleon, evidently uttering these words as a direct +challenge to the Emperor. He knew how Alexander desired to be a +military commander. + +"The campaign began only a week ago, and you haven't even been +able to defend Vilna. You are cut in two and have been driven out of +the Polish provinces. Your army is grumbling." + +"On the contrary, Your Majesty," said Balashev, hardly able to +remember what had been said to him and following these verbal +fireworks with difficulty, "the troops are burning with eagerness..." + +"I know everything!" Napoleon interrupted him. "I know everything. I +know the number of your battalions as exactly as I know my own. You +have not two hundred thousand men, and I have three times that number. +I give you my word of honor," said Napoleon, forgetting that his +word of honor could carry no weight- "I give you my word of honor that +I have five hundred and thirty thousand men this side of the +Vistula. The Turks will be of no use to you; they are worth nothing +and have shown it by making peace with you. As for the Swedes- it is +their fate to be governed by mad kings. Their king was insane and they +changed him for another- Bernadotte, who promptly went mad- for no +Swede would ally himself with Russia unless he were mad." + +Napoleon grinned maliciously and again raised his snuffbox to his +nose. + +Balashev knew how to reply to each of Napoleon's remarks, and +would have done so; he continually made the gesture of a man wishing +to say something, but Napoleon always interrupted him. To the +alleged insanity of the Swedes, Balashev wished to reply that when +Russia is on her side Sweden is practically an island: but Napoleon +gave an angry exclamation to drown his voice. Napoleon was in that +state of irritability in which a man has to talk, talk, and talk, +merely to convince himself that he is in the right. Balashev began +to feel uncomfortable: as envoy he feared to demean his dignity and +felt the necessity of replying; but, as a man, he shrank before the +transport of groundless wrath that had evidently seized Napoleon. He +knew that none of the words now uttered by Napoleon had any +significance, and that Napoleon himself would be ashamed of them +when he came to his senses. Balashev stood with downcast eyes, looking +at the movements of Napoleon's stout legs and trying to avoid +meeting his eyes. + +"But what do I care about your allies?" said Napoleon. "I have +allies- the Poles. There are eighty thousand of them and they fight +like lions. And there will be two hundred thousand of them." + +And probably still more perturbed by the fact that he had uttered +this obvious falsehood, and that Balashev still stood silently +before him in the same attitude of submission to fate, Napoleon +abruptly turned round, drew close to Balashev's face, and, +gesticulating rapidly and energetically with his white hands, almost +shouted: + +"Know that if you stir up Prussia against me, I'll wipe it off the +map of Europe!" he declared, his face pale and distorted by anger, and +he struck one of his small hands energetically with the other. "Yes, I +will throw you back beyond the Dvina and beyond the Dnieper, and +will re-erect against you that barrier which it was criminal and blind +of Europe to allow to be destroyed. Yes, that is what will happen to +you. That is what you have gained by alienating me!" And he walked +silently several times up and down the room, his fat shoulders +twitching. + +He put his snuffbox into his waistcoat pocket, took it out again, +lifted it several times to his nose, and stopped in front of Balashev. +He paused, looked ironically straight into Balashev's eyes, and said +in a quiet voice: + +"And yet what a splendid reign your master might have had!" + +Balashev, feeling it incumbent on him to reply, said that from the +Russian side things did not appear in so gloomy a light. Napoleon +was silent, still looking derisively at him and evidently not +listening to him. Balashev said that in Russia the best results were +expected from the war. Napoleon nodded condescendingly, as if to +say, "I know it's your duty to say that, but you don't believe it +yourself. I have convinced you." + +When Balashev had ended, Napoleon again took out his snuffbox, +sniffed at it, and stamped his foot twice on the floor as a signal. +The door opened, a gentleman-in-waiting, bending respectfully, +handed the Emperor his hat and gloves; another brought hima pocket +handkerchief. Napoleon, without giving them a glance, turned to +Balashev: + +"Assure the Emperor Alexander from me," said he, taking his hat, +"that I am as devoted to him as before: I know him thoroughly and very +highly esteem his lofty qualities. I will detain you no longer, +General; you shall receive my letter to the Emperor." + +And Napoleon went quickly to the door. Everyone in the reception +room rushed forward and descended the staircase. + +CHAPTER VII + +After all that Napoleon had said to him- those bursts of anger and +the last dryly spoken words: "I will detain you no longer, General; +you shall receive my letter," Balashev felt convinced that Napoleon +would not wish to see him, and would even avoid another meeting with +him- an insulted envoy- especially as he had witnessed his unseemly +anger. But, to his surprise, Balashev received, through Duroc, an +invitation to dine with the Emperor that day. + +Bessieres, Caulaincourt, and Berthier were present at that dinner. + +Napoleon met Balashev cheerfully and amiably. He not only showed +no sign of constraint or self-reproach on account of his outburst that +morning, but, on the contrary, tried to reassure Balashev. It was +evident that he had long been convinced that it was impossible for him +to make a mistake, and that in his perception whatever he did was +right, not because it harmonized with any idea of right and wrong, but +because he did it. + +The Emperor was in very good spirits after his ride through Vilna, +where crowds of people had rapturously greeted and followed him. +From all the windows of the streets through which he rode, rugs, +flags, and his monogram were displayed, and the Polish ladies, +welcoming him, waved their handkerchiefs to him. + +At dinner, having placed Balashev beside him, Napoleon not only +treated him amiably but behaved as if Balashev were one of his own +courtiers, one of those who sympathized with his plans and ought to +rejoice at his success. In the course of conversation he mentioned +Moscow and questioned Balashev about the Russian capital, not merely +as an interested traveler asks about a new city he intends to visit, +but as if convinced that Balashev, as a Russian, must be flattered +by his curiosity. + +"How many inhabitants are there in Moscow? How many houses? Is it +true that Moscow is called 'Holy Moscow'? How many churches are +there in Moscow?" he asked. + +And receiving the reply that there were more than two hundred +churches, he remarked: + +"Why such a quantity of churches?" + +"The Russians are very devout," replied Balashev. + +"But a large number of monasteries and churches is always a sign +of the backwardness of a people," said Napoleon, turning to +Caulaincourt for appreciation of this remark. + +Balashev respectfully ventured to disagree with the French Emperor. + +"Every country has its own character," said he. + +"But nowhere in Europe is there anything like that," said Napoleon. + +"I beg your Majesty's pardon," returned Balashev, "besides Russia +there is Spain, where there are also many churches and monasteries." + +This reply of Balashev's, which hinted at the recent defeats of +the French in Spain, was much appreciated when he related it at +Alexander's court, but it was not much appreciated at Napoleon's +dinner, where it passed unnoticed. + +The uninterested and perplexed faces of the marshals showed that +they were puzzled as to what Balashev's tone suggested. "If there is a +point we don't see it, or it is not at all witty," their expressions +seemed to say. So little was his rejoinder appreciated that Napoleon +did not notice it at all and naively asked Balashev through what towns +the direct road from there to Moscow passed. Balashev, who was on +the alert all through the dinner, replied that just as "all roads lead +to Rome," so all roads lead to Moscow: there were many roads, and +"among them the road through Poltava, which Charles XII chose." +Balashev involuntarily flushed with pleasure at the aptitude of this +reply, but hardly had he uttered the word Poltava before +Caulaincourt began speaking of the badness of the road from Petersburg +to Moscow and of his Petersburg reminiscences. + +After dinner they went to drink coffee in Napoleon's study, which +four days previously had been that of the Emperor Alexander. +Napoleon sat down, toying with his Sevres coffee cup, and motioned +Balashev to a chair beside him. + +Napoleon was in that well-known after-dinner mood which, more than +any reasoned cause, makes a man contented with himself and disposed to +consider everyone his friend. It seemed to him that he was +surrounded by men who adored him: and he felt convinced that, after +his dinner, Balashev too was his friend and worshiper. Napoleon turned +to him with a pleasant, though slightly ironic, smile. + +"They tell me this is the room the Emperor Alexander occupied? +Strange, isn't it, General?" he said, evidently not doubting that this +remark would be agreeable to his hearer since it went to prove his, +Napoleon's, superiority to Alexander. + +Balashev made no reply and bowed and bowed his head in silence. + +"Yes. Four days ago in this room, Wintzingerode and Stein were +deliberating," continued Napoleon with the same derisive and +self-confident smile. "What I can't understand," he went on, "is +that the Emperor Alexander has surrounded himself with my personal +enemies. That I do not... understand. Has he not thought that I may +the same?" and he turned inquiringly to Balashev, and evidently this +thought turned him back on to the track of his morning's anger, +which was still fresh in him. + +"And let him know that I will do so!" said Napoleon, rising and +pushing his cup away with his hand. "I'll drive all his Wurttemberg, +Baden, and Weimar relations out of Germany.... Yes. I'll drive them +out. Let him prepare an asylum for them in Russia!" + +Balashev bowed his head with an air indicating that he would like to +make his bow and leave, and only listened because he could not help +hearing what was said to him. Napoleon did not notice this expression; +he treated Balashev not as an envoy from his enemy, but as a man now +fully devoted to him and who must rejoice at his former master's +humiliation. + +"And why has the Emperor Alexander taken command of the armies? What +is the good of that? War is my profession, but his business is to +reign and not to command armies! Why has he taken on himself such a +responsibility?" + +Again Napoleon brought out his snuffbox, paced several times up +and down the room in silence, and then, suddenly and unexpectedly, +went up to Balashev and with a slight smile, as confidently, +quickly, and simply as if he were doing something not merely +important but pleasing to Balashev, he raised his hand to the +forty-year-old Russian general's face and, taking him by the ear, +pulled it gently, smiling with his lips only. + +To have one's ear pulled by the Emperor was considered the +greatest honor and mark of favor at the French court. + +"Well, adorer and courtier of the Emperor Alexander, why don't you +say anything?" said he, as if it was ridiculous, in his presence, to +be the adorer and courtier of anyone but himself, Napoleon. "Are the +horses ready for the general?" he added, with a slight inclination +of his head in reply to Balashev's bow. "Let him have mine, he has a +long way to go!" + +The letter taken by Balashev was the last Napoleon sent to +Alexander. Every detail of the interview was communicated to the +Russian monarch, and the war began... + +CHAPTER VIII + +After his interview with Pierre in Moscow, Prince Andrew went to +Petersburg, on business as he told his family, but really to meet +Anatole Kuragin whom he felt it necessary to encounter. On reaching +Petersburg he inquired for Kuragin but the latter had already left the +city. Pierre had warned his brother-in-law that Prince Andrew was on +his track. Anatole Kuragin promptly obtained an appointment from the +Minister of War and went to join the army in Moldavia. While in +Petersburg Prince Andrew met Kutuzov, his former commander who was +always well disposed toward him, and Kutuzov suggested that he +should accompany him to the army in Moldavia, to which the old general +had been appointed commander in chief. So Prince Andrew, having +received an appointment on the headquarters staff, left for Turkey. + +Prince Andrew did not think it proper to write and challenge +Kuragin. He thought that if he challenged him without some fresh cause +it might compromise the young Countess Rostova and so he wanted to +meet Kuragin personally in order to find a fresh pretext for a duel. +But he again failed to meet Kuragin in Turkey, for soon after Prince +Andrew arrived, the latter returned to Russia. In a new country, +amid new conditions, Prince Andrew found life easier to bear. After +his betrothed had broken faith with him- which he felt the more +acutely the more he tried to conceal its effects- the surroundings +in which he had been happy became trying to him, and the freedom and +independence he had once prized so highly were still more so. Not only +could he no longer think the thoughts that had first come to him as he +lay gazing at the sky on the field of Austerlitz and had later +enlarged upon with Pierre, and which had filled his solitude at +Bogucharovo and then in Switzerland and Rome, but he even dreaded to +recall them and them and the bright and boundless horizons they had +revealed. He was now concerned only with the nearest practical matters +unrelated to his past interests, and he seized on these the more +eagerly the more those past interests were closed to him. It was as if +that lofty, infinite canopy of heaven that had once towered above +him had suddenly turned into a low, solid vault that weighed him down, +in which all was clear, but nothing eternal or mysterious. + +Of the activities that presented themselves to him, army service was +the simplest and most familiar. As a general on duty on Kutuzov's +staff, he applied himself to business with zeal and perseverance and +surprised Kutuzov by his willingness and accuracy in work. Not +having found Kuragin in Turkey, Prince Andrew did not think it +necessary to rush back to Russia after him, but all the same he knew +that however long it might be before he met Kuragin, despite his +contempt for him and despite all the proofs he deduced to convince +himself that it was not worth stooping to a conflict with him- he knew +that when he did meet him he would not be able to resist calling him +out, any more than a ravenous man can help snatching at food. And +the consciousness that the insult was not yet avenged, that his rancor +was still unspent, weighed on his heart and poisoned the artificial +tranquillity which he managed to obtain in Turkey by means of +restless, plodding, and rather vainglorious and ambitious activity. + +In the year 1812, when news of the war with Napoleon reached +Bucharest- where Kutuzov had been living for two months, passing his +days and nights with a Wallachian woman- Prince Andrew asked Kutuzov +to transfer him to the Western Army. Kutuzov, who was already weary of +Bolkonski's activity which seemed to reproach his own idleness, very +readily let him go and gave him a mission to Barclay de Tolly. + +Before joining the Western Army which was then, in May, encamped +at Drissa, Prince Andrew visited Bald Hills which was directly on +his way, being only two miles off the Smolensk highroad. During the +last three years there had been so many changes in his life, he had +thought, felt, and seen so much (having traveled both in the east +and the west), that on reaching Bald Hills it struck him as strange +and unexpected to find the way of life there unchanged and still the +same in every detail. He entered through the gates with their stone +pillars and drove up the avenue leading to the house as if he were +entering an enchanted, sleeping castle. The same old stateliness, +the same cleanliness, the same stillness reigned there, and inside +there was the same furniture, the same walls, sounds, and smell, and +the same timid faces, only somewhat older. Princess Mary was still the +same timid, plain maiden getting on in years, uselessly and +joylessly passing the best years of her life in fear and constant +suffering. Mademoiselle Bourienne was the same coquettish, +self-satisfied girl, enjoying every moment of her existence and full +of joyous hopes for the future. She had merely become more +self-confident, Prince Andrew thought. Dessalles, the tutor he had +brought from Switzerland, was wearing a coat of Russian cut and +talking broken Russian to the servants, but was still the same +narrowly intelligent, conscientious, and pedantic preceptor. The old +prince had changed in appearance only by the loss of a tooth, which +left a noticeable gap on one side of his mouth; in character he was +the same as ever, only showing still more irritability and +skepticism as to what was happening in the world. Little Nicholas +alone had changed. He had grown, become rosier, had curly dark hair, +and, when merry and laughing, quite unconsciously lifted the upper lip +of his pretty little mouth just as the little princess used to do. +He alone did not obey the law of immutability in the enchanted, +sleeping castle. But though externally all remained as of old, the +inner relations of all these people had changed since Prince Andrew +had seen them last. The household was divided into two alien and +hostile camps, who changed their habits for his sake and only met +because he was there. To the one camp belonged the old prince, +Madmoiselle Bourienne, and the architect; to the other Princess +Mary, Dessalles, little Nicholas, and all the old nurses and maids. + +During his stay at Bald Hills all the family dined together, but +they were ill at ease and Prince Andrew felt that he was a visitor for +whose sake an exception was being made and that his presence made them +all feel awkward. Involuntarily feeling this at dinner on the first +day, he was taciturn, and the old prince noticing this also became +morosely dumb and retired to his apartments directly after dinner. +In the evening, when Prince Andrew went to him and, trying to rouse +him, began to tell him of the young Count Kamensky's campaign, the old +prince began unexpectedly to talk about Princess Mary, blaming her for +her superstitions and her dislike of Mademoiselle Bourienne, who, he +said, was the only person really attached to him. + +The old prince said that if he was ill it was only because of +Princess Mary: that she purposely worried and irritated him, and +that by indulgence and silly talk she was spoiling little Prince +Nicholas. The old prince knew very well that he tormented his daughter +and that her life was very hard, but he also knew that he could not +help tormenting her and that she deserved it. "Why does Prince Andrew, +who sees this, say nothing to me about his sister? Does he think me +a scoundrel, or an old fool who, without any reason, keeps his own +daughter at a distance and attaches this Frenchwoman to himself? He +doesn't understand, so I must explain it, and he must hear me out," +thought the old prince. And he began explaining why he could not put +up with his daughter's unreasonable character. + +"If you ask me," said Prince Andrew, without looking up (he was +censuring his father for the first time in his life), "I did not +wish to speak about it, but as you ask me I will give you my frank +opinion. If there is any misunderstanding and discord between you +and Mary, I can't blame her for it at all. I know how she loves and +respects you. Since you ask me," continued Prince Andrew, becoming +irritable- as he was always liable to do of late- "I can only say that +if there are any misunderstandings they are caused by that worthless +woman, who is not fit to be my sister's companion." + +The old man at first stared fixedly at his son, and an unnatural +smile disclosed the fresh gap between his teeth to which Prince Andrew +could not get accustomed. + +"What companion, my dear boy? Eh? You've already been talking it +over! Eh?" + +"Father, I did not want to judge," said Prince Andrew, in a hard and +bitter tone, "but you challenged me, and I have said, and always shall +say, that Mary is not to blame, but those to blame- the one to +blame- is that Frenchwoman." + +"Ah, he has passed judgment... passed judgement!" said the old man +in a low voice and, as it seemed to Prince Andrew, with some +embarrassment, but then he suddenly jumped up and cried: "Be off, be +off! Let not a trace of you remain here!..." + +Prince Andrew wished to leave at once, but Princess Mary persuaded +him to stay another day. That day he did not see his father, who did +not leave his room and admitted no one but Mademoiselle Bourienne +and Tikhon, but asked several times whether his son had gone. Next +day, before leaving, Prince Andrew went to his son's rooms. The boy, +curly-headed like his mother and glowing with health, sat on his knee, +and Prince Andrew began telling him the story of Bluebeard, but fell +into a reverie without finishing the story. He thought not of this +pretty child, his son whom he held on his knee, but of himself. He +sought in himself either remorse for having angered his father or +regret at leaving home for the first time in his life on bad terms +with him, and was horrified to find neither. What meant still more +to him was that he sought and did not find in himself the former +tenderness for his son which he had hoped to reawaken by caressing the +boy and taking him on his knee. + +"Well, go on!" said his son. + +Prince Andrew, without replying, put him down from his knee and went +out of the room. + +As soon as Prince Andrew had given up his daily occupations, and +especially on returning to the old conditions of life amid which he +had been happy, weariness of life overcame him with its former +intensity, and he hastened to escape from these memories and to find +some work as soon as possible. + +"So you've decided to go, Andrew?" asked his sister. + +"Thank God that I can," replied Prince Andrew. "I am very sorry +you can't." + +"Why do you say that?" replied Princess Mary. "Why do you say +that, when you are going to this terrible war, and he is so old? +Mademoiselle Bourienne says he has been asking about you...." + +As soon as she began to speak of that, her lips trembled and her +tears began to fall. Prince Andrew turned away and began pacing the +room. + +"Ah, my God! my God! When one thinks who and what- what trash- can +cause people misery!" he said with a malignity that alarmed Princess +Mary. + +She understood that when speaking of "trash" he referred not only to +Mademoiselle Bourienne, the cause of her misery, but also to the man +who had ruined his own happiness. + +"Andrew! One thing I beg, I entreat of you!" she said, touching +his elbow and looking at him with eyes that shone through her tears. +"I understand you" (she looked down). "Don't imagine that sorrow is +the work of men. Men are His tools." She looked a little above +Prince Andrew's head with the confident, accustomed look with which +one looks at the place where a familiar portrait hangs. "Sorrow is +sent by Him, not by men. Men are His instruments, they are not to +blame. If you think someone has wronged you, forget it and forgive! We +have no right to punish. And then you will know the happiness of +forgiving." + +"If I were a woman I would do so, Mary. That is a woman's virtue. +But a man should not and cannot forgive and forget," he replied, and +though till that moment he had not been thinking of Kuragin, all his +unexpended anger suddenly swelled up in his heart. + +"If Mary is already persuading me forgive, it means that I ought +long ago to have punished him," he thought. And giving her no +further reply, he began thinking of the glad vindictive moment when he +would meet Kuragin who he knew was now in the army. + +Princess Mary begged him to stay one day more, saying that she +knew how unhappy her father would be if Andrew left without being +reconciled to him, but Prince Andrew replied that he would probably +soon be back again from the army and would certainly write to his +father, but that the longer he stayed now the more embittered their +differences would become. + +"Good-by, Andrew! Remember that misfortunes come from God, and men +are never to blame," were the last words he heard from his sister when +he took leave of her. + +"Then it must be so!" thought Prince Andrew as he drove out of the +avenue from the house at Bald Hills. "She, poor innocent creature, +is left to be victimized by an old man who has outlived his wits. +The old man feels he is guilty, but cannot change himself. My boy is +growing up and rejoices in life, in which like everybody else he +will deceive or be deceived. And I am off to the army. Why? I myself +don't know. I want to meet that man whom I despise, so as to give +him a chance to kill and laugh at me! + +These conditions of life had been the same before, but then they +were all connected, while now they had all tumbled to pieces. Only +senseless things, lacking coherence, presented themselves one after +another to Prince Andrew's mind. + +CHAPTER IX + +Prince Andrew reached the general headquarters of the army at the +end of June. The first army, with which was the Emperor, occupied +the fortified camp at Drissa; the second army was retreating, trying +to effect a junction with the first one from which it was said to be +cut off by large French forces. Everyone was dissatisfied with the +general course of affairs in the Russian army, but no one +anticipated any danger of invasion of the Russian provinces, and no +one thought the war would extend farther than the western, the Polish, +provinces. + +Prince Andrew found Barclay de Tolly, to whom he had been +assigned, on the bank of the Drissa. As there was not a single town or +large village in the vicinity of the camp, the immense number of +generals and courtiers accompanying the army were living in the best +houses of the villages on both sides of the river, over a radius of +six miles. Barclay de Tolly was quartered nearly three miles from +the Emperor. He received Bolkonski stiffly and coldly and told him +in his foreign accent that he would mention him to the Emperor for a +decision as to his employment, but asked him meanwhile to remain on +his staff. Anatole Kuragin, whom Prince Andrew had hoped to find +with the army, was not there. He had gone to Petersburg, but Prince +Andrew was glad to hear this. His mind was occupied by the interests +of the center that was conducting a gigantic war, and he was glad to +be free for a while from the distraction caused by the thought of +Kuragin. During the first four days, while no duties were required +of him, Prince Andrew rode round the whole fortified camp and, by +the aid of his own knowledge and by talks with experts, tried to +form a definite opinion about it. But the question whether the camp +was advantageous or disadvantageous remained for him undecided. +Already from his military experience and what he had seen in the +Austrian campaign, he had come to the conclusion that in war the +most deeply considered plans have no significance and that all depends +on the way unexpected movements of the enemy- that cannot be foreseen- +are met, and on how and by whom the whole matter is handled. To +clear up this last point for himself, Prince Andrew, utilizing his +position and acquaintances, tried to fathom the character of the +control of the army and of the men and parties engaged in it, and he +deduced for himself the following of the state of affairs. + +While the Emperor had still been at Vilna, the forces had been +divided into three armies. First, the army under Barclay de Tolly, +secondly, the army under Bagration, and thirdly, the one commanded +by Tormasov. The Emperor was with the first army, but not as commander +in chief. In the orders issued it was stated, not that the Emperor +would take command, but only that he would be with the army. The +Emperor, moreover, had with him not a commander in chief's staff but +the imperial headquarters staff. In attendance on him was the head +of the imperial staff, Quartermaster General Prince Volkonski, as well +as generals, imperial aides-de-camp, diplomatic officials, and a large +number of foreigners, but not the army staff. Besides these, there +were in attendance on the Emperor without any definite appointments: +Arakcheev, the ex-Minister of War; Count Bennigsen, the senior general +in rank; the Grand Duke Tsarevich Constantine Pavlovich; Count +Rumyantsev, the Chancellor; Stein, a former Prussian minister; +Armfeldt, a Swedish general; Pfuel, the chief author of the plan of +campaign; Paulucci, an adjutant general and Sardinian emigre; +Wolzogen- and many others. Though these men had no military +appointment in the army, their position gave them influence, and often +a corps commander, or even the commander in chief, did not know in +what capacity he was questioned by Bennigsen, the Grand Duke, +Arakcheev, or Prince Volkonski, or was given this or that advice and +did not know whether a certain order received in the form of advice +emanated from the man who gave it or from the Emperor and whether it +had to be executed or not. But this was only the external condition; +the essential significance of the presence of the Emperor and of all +these people, from a courtier's point of view (and in an Emperor's +vicinity all became courtiers), was clear to everyone. It was this: +the Emperor did not assume the title of commander in chief, but +disposed of all the armies; the men around him were his assistants. +Arakcheev was a faithful custodian to enforce order and acted as the +sovereign's bodyguard. Bennigsen was a landlord in the Vilna +province who appeared to be doing the honors of the district, but +was in reality a good general, useful as an adviser and ready at +hand to replace Barclay. The Grand Duke was there because it suited +him to be. The ex-Minister Stein was there because his advice was +useful and the Emperor Alexander held him in high esteem personally. +Armfeldt virulently hated Napoleon and was a general full of +self-confidence, a quality that always influenced Alexander. +Paulucci was there because he was bold and decided in speech. The +adjutants general were there because they always accompanied the +Emperor, and lastly and chiefly Pfuel was there because he had drawn +up the plan of campaign against Napoleon and, having induced Alexander +to believe in the efficacy of that plan, was directing the whole +business of the war. With Pfuel was Wolzogen, who expressed Pfuel's +thoughts in a more comprehensible way than Pfuel himself (who was a +harsh, bookish theorist, self-confident to the point of despising +everyone else) was able to do. + +Besides these Russians and foreigners who propounded new and +unexpected ideas every day- especially the foreigners, who did so with +a boldness characteristic of people employed in a country not their +own- there were many secondary personages accompanying the army +because their principals were there. + +Among the opinions and voices in this immense, restless, +brilliant, and proud sphere, Prince Andrew noticed the following +sharply defined subdivisions of and parties: + +The first party consisted of Pfuel and his adherents- military +theorists who believed in a science of war with immutable laws- laws +of oblique movements, outflankings, and so forth. Pfuel and his +adherents demanded a retirement into the depths of the country in +accordance with precise laws defined by a pseudo-theory of war, and +they saw only barbarism, ignorance, or evil intention in every +deviation from that theory. To this party belonged the foreign nobles, +Wolzogen, Wintzingerode, and others, chiefly Germans. + +The second party was directly opposed to the first; one extreme, +as always happens, was met by representatives of the other. The +members of this party were those who had demanded an advance from +Vilna into Poland and freedom from all prearranged plans. Besides +being advocates of bold action, this section also represented +nationalism, which made them still more one-sided in the dispute. They +were Russians: Bagration, Ermolov (who was beginning to come to the +front), and others. At that time a famous joke of Ermolov's was +being circulated, that as a great favor he had petitioned the +Emperor to make him a German. The men of that party, remembering +Suvorov, said that what one had to do was not to reason, or stick pins +into maps, but to fight, beat the enemy, keep him out of Russia, and +not let the army get discouraged. + +To the third party- in which the Emperor had most confidence- +belonged the courtiers who tried to arrange compromises between the +other two. The members of this party, chiefly civilians and to whom +Arakcheev belonged, thought and said what men who have no +convictions but wish to seem to have some generally say. They said +that undoubtedly war, particularly against such a genius as +Bonaparte (they called him Bonaparte now), needs most deeply devised +plans and profound scientific knowledge and in that respect Pfuel +was a genius, but at the same time it had to be acknowledged that +the theorists are often one sided, and therefore one should not +trust them absolutely, but should also listen to what Pfuel's +opponents and practical men of experience in warfare had to say, and +then choose a middle course. They insisted on the retention of the +camp at Drissa, according to Pfuel's plan, but on changing the +movements of the other armies. Though, by this course, neither one aim +nor the other could be attained, yet it seemed best to the adherents +of this third party. + +Of a fourth opinion the most conspicuous representative was the +Tsarevich, who could not forget his disillusionment at Austerlitz, +where he had ridden out at the head of the Guards, in his casque and +cavalry uniform as to a review, expecting to crush the French +gallantly; but unexpectedly finding himself in the front line had +narrowly escaped amid the general confusion. The men of this party had +both the quality and the defect of frankness in their opinions. They +feared Napoleon, recognized his strength and their own weakness, and +frankly said so. They said: "Nothing but sorrow, shame, and ruin +will come of all this! We have abandoned Vilna and Vitebsk and shall +abandon Drissa. The only reasonable thing left to do is to conclude +peace as soon as possible, before we are turned out of Petersburg." + +This view was very general in the upper army circles and found +support also in Petersburg and from the chancellor, Rumyantsev, who, +for other reasons of state, was in favor of peace. + +The fifth party consisted of those who were adherents of Barclay +de Tolly, not so much as a man but as minister of war and commander in +chief. "Be he what he may" (they always began like that), "he is an +honest, practical man and we have nobody better. Give him real +power, for war cannot be conducted successfully without unity of +command, and he will show what he can do, as he did in Finland. If our +army is well organized and strong and has withdrawn to Drissa +without suffering any defeats, we owe this entirely to Barclay. If +Barclay is now to be superseded by Bennigsen all will be lost, for +Bennigsen showed his incapacity already in 1807." + +The sixth party, the Bennigsenites, said, on the contrary, that at +any rate there was no one more active and experienced than +Bennigsen: "and twist about as you may, you will have to come to +Bennigsen eventually. Let the others make mistakes now!" said they, +arguing that our retirement to Drissa was a most shameful reverse +and an unbroken series of blunders. "The more mistakes that are made +the better. It will at any rate be understood all the sooner that +things cannot go on like this. What is wanted is not some Barclay or +other, but a man like Bennigsen, who made his mark in 1807, and to +whom Napoleon himself did justice- a man whose authority would be +willingly recognized, and Bennigsen is the only such man." + +The seventh party consisted of the sort of people who are always +to be found, especially around young sovereigns, and of whom there +were particularly many round Alexander- generals and imperial +aides-de-camp passionately devoted to the Emperor, not merely as a +monarch but as a man, adoring him sincerely and disinterestedly, as +Rostov had done in 1805, and who saw in him not only all the virtues +but all human capabilities as well. These men, though enchanted with +the sovereign for refusing the command of the army, yet blamed him for +such excessive modesty, and only desired and insisted that their +adored sovereign should abandon his diffidence and openly announce +that he would place himself at the head of the army, gather round +him a commander in chief's staff, and, consulting experienced +theoreticians and practical men where necessary, would himself lead +the troops, whose spirits would thereby be raised to the highest +pitch. + +The eighth and largest group, which in its enormous numbers was to +the others as ninety-nine to one, consisted of men who desired neither +peace nor war, neither an advance nor a defensive camp at the Drissa +or anywhere else, neither Barclay nor the Emperor, neither Pfuel nor +Bennigsen, but only the one most essential thing- as much advantage +and pleasure for themselves as possible. In the troubled waters of +conflicting and intersecting intrigues that eddied about the Emperor's +headquarters, it was possible to succeed in many ways unthinkable at +other times. A man who simply wished to retain his lucrative post +would today agree with Pfuel, tomorrow with his opponent, and the +day after, merely to avoid responsibility or to please the Emperor, +would declare that he had no opinion at all on the matter. Another who +wished to gain some advantage would attract the Emperor's attention by +loudly advocating the very thing the Emperor had hinted at the day +before, and would dispute and shout at the council, beating his breast +and challenging those who did not agree with him to duels, thereby +proving that he was prepared to sacrifice himself for the common good. +A third, in the absence of opponents, between two councils would +simply solicit a special gratuity for his faithful services, well +knowing that at that moment people would be too busy to refuse him. +A fourth while seemingly overwhelmed with work would often come +accidentally under the Emperor's eye. A fifth, to achieve his +long-cherished aim of dining with the Emperor, would stubbornly insist +on the correctness or falsity of some newly emerging opinion and for +this object would produce arguments more or less forcible and correct. + +All the men of this party were fishing for rubles, decorations, +and promotions, and in this pursuit watched only the weathercock of +imperial favor, and directly they noticed it turning in any direction, +this whole drone population of the army began blowing hard that way, +so that it was all the harder for the Emperor to turn it elsewhere. +Amid the uncertainties of the position, with the menace of serious +danger giving a peculiarly threatening character to everything, amid +this vortex of intrigue, egotism, conflict of views and feelings, +and the diversity of race among these people- this eighth and +largest party of those preoccupied with personal interests imparted +great confusion and obscurity to the common task. Whatever question +arose, a swarm of these drones, without having finished their +buzzing on a previous theme, flew over to the new one and by their hum +drowned and obscured the voices of those who were disputing honestly. + +From among all these parties, just at the time Prince Andrew reached +the army, another, a ninth party, was being formed and was beginning +to raise its voice. This was the party of the elders, reasonable men +experienced and capable in state affairs, who, without sharing any +of those conflicting opinions, were able to take a detached view of +what was going on at the staff at headquarters and to consider means +of escape from this muddle, indecision, intricacy, and weakness. + +The men of this party said and thought that what was wrong +resulted chiefly from the Emperor's presence in the army with his +military court and from the consequent presence there of an +indefinite, conditional, and unsteady fluctuation of relations, +which is in place at court but harmful in an army; that a sovereign +should reign but not command the army, and that the only way out of +the position would be for the Emperor and his court to leave the army; +that the mere presence of the Emperor paralyzed the action of fifty +thousand men required to secure his personal safety, and that the +worst commander in chief if independent would be better than the +very best one trammeled by the presence and authority of the monarch. + +Just at the time Prince Andrew was living unoccupied at Drissa, +Shishkov, the Secretary of State and one of the chief +representatives of this party, wrote a letter to the Emperor which +Arakcheev and Balashev agreed to sign. In this letter, availing +himself of permission given him by the Emperor to discuss the +general course of affairs, he respectfully suggested- on the plea that +it was necessary for the sovereign to arouse a warlike spirit in the +people of the capital- that the Emperor should leave the army. + +That arousing of the people by their sovereign and his call to +them to defend their country- the very incitement which was the +chief cause of Russia's triumph in so far as it was produced by the +Tsar's personal presence in Moscow- was suggested to the Emperor, +and accepted by him, as a pretext for quitting the army. + +CHAPTER X + +This letter had not yet been presented to the Emperor when +Barclay, one day at dinner, informed Bolkonski that the sovereign +wished to see him personally, to question him about Turkey, and that +Prince Andrew was to present himself at Bennigsen's quarters at six +that evening. + +News was received at the Emperor's quarters that very day of a fresh +movement by Napoleon which might endanger the army- news +subsequently found to be false. And that morning Colonel Michaud had +ridden round the Drissa fortifications with the Emperor and had +pointed out to him that this fortified camp constructed by Pfuel, +and till then considered a chef-d'oeuvre of tactical science which +would ensure Napoleon's destruction, was an absurdity, threatening the +destruction of the Russian army. + +Prince Andrew arrived at Bennigsen's quarters- a country gentleman's +house of moderate size, situated on the very banks of the river. +Neither Bennigsen nor the Emperor was there, but Chernyshev, the +Emperor's aide-de-camp, received Bolkonski and informed him that the +Emperor, accompanied by General Bennigsen and Marquis Paulucci, had +gone a second time that day to inspect the fortifications of the +Drissa camp, of the suitability of which serious doubts were beginning +to be felt. + +Chernyshev was sitting at a window in the first room with a French +novel in his hand. This room had probably been a music room; there was +still an organ in it on which some rugs were piled, and in one +corner stood the folding bedstead of Bennigsen's adjutant. This +adjutant was also there and sat dozing on the rolled-up bedding, +evidently exhausted by work or by feasting. Two doors led from the +room, one straight on into what had been the drawing room, and +another, on the right, to the study. Through the first door came the +sound of voices conversing in German and occasionally in French. In +that drawing room were gathered, by the Emperor's wish, not a military +council (the Emperor preferred indefiniteness), but certain persons +whose opinions he wished to know in view of the impending +difficulties. It was not a council of war, but, as it were, a +council to elucidate certain questions for the Emperor personally. +To this semicouncil had been invited the Swedish General Armfeldt, +Adjutant General Wolzogen, Wintzingerode (whom Napoleon had referred +to as a renegade French subject), Michaud, Toll, Count Stein who was +not a military man at all, and Pfuel himself, who, as Prince Andrew +had heard, was the mainspring of the whole affair. Prince Andrew had +an opportunity of getting a good look at him, for Pfuel arrived soon +after himself and, in passing through to the drawing room, stopped a +minute to speak to Chernyshev. + +At first sight, Pfuel, in his ill-made uniform of a Russian general, +which fitted him badly like a fancy costume, seemed familiar to Prince +Andrew, though he saw him now for the first time. There was about +him something of Weyrother, Mack, and Schmidt, and many other German +theorist-generals whom Prince Andrew had seen in 1805, but he was more +typical than any of them. Prince Andrew had never yet seen a German +theorist in whom all the characteristics of those others were united +to such an extent. + +Pfuel was short and very thin but broad-boned, of coarse, robust +build, broad in the hips, and with prominent shoulder blades. His face +was much wrinkled and his eyes deep set. His hair had evidently been +hastily brushed smooth in front of the temples, but stuck up behind in +quaint little tufts. He entered the room, looking restlessly and +angrily around, as if afraid of everything in that large apartment. +Awkwardly holding up his sword, he addressed Chernyshev and asked in +German where the Emperor was. One could see that he wished to pass +through the rooms as quickly as possible, finish with the bows and +greetings, and sit down to business in front of a map, where he +would feel at home. He nodded hurriedly in reply to Chernyshev, and +smiled ironically on hearing that the sovereign was inspecting the +fortifications that he, Pfuel, had planned in accord with his +theory. He muttered something to himself abruptly and in a bass voice, +as self-assured Germans do- it might have been "stupid fellow"... or +"the whole affair will be ruined," or "something absurd will come of +it."... Prince Andrew did not catch what he said and would have passed +on, but Chernyshev introduced him to Pfuel, remarking that Prince +Andrew was just back from Turkey where the war had terminated so +fortunately. Pfuel barely glanced- not so much at Prince Andrew as +past him- and said, with a laugh: "That must have been a fine tactical +war"; and, laughing contemptuously, went on into the room from which +the sound of voices was heard. + +Pfuel, always inclined to be irritably sarcastic, was particularly +disturbed that day, evidently by the fact that they had dared to +inspect and criticize his camp in his absence. From this short +interview with Pfuel, Prince Andrew, thanks to his Austerlitz +experiences, was able to form a clear conception of the man. Pfuel was +one of those hopelessly and immutably self-confident men, +self-confident to the point of martyrdom as only Germans are, +because only Germans are self-confident on the basis of an abstract +notion- science, that is, the supposed knowledge of absolute truth. +A Frenchman is self-assured because he regards himself personally, +both in mind and body, as irresistibly attractive to men and women. An +Englishman is self-assured, as being a citizen of the best-organized +state in the world, and therefore as an Englishman always knows what +he should do and knows that all he does as an Englishman is +undoubtedly correct. An Italian is self-assured because he is +excitable and easily forgets himself and other people. A Russian is +self-assured just because he knows nothing does not want to know +anything, since he does not believe that anything can be known. The +German's self-assurance is worst of all, stronger and more repulsive +than any other, because he imagines that he knows the truth- +science- which he himself has invented but which is for him the +absolute truth. + +Pfuel was evidently of that sort. He had a science- the theory of +oblique movements deduced by him from the history of Frederick the +Great's wars, and all he came across in the history of more recent +warfare seemed to him absurd and barbarous- monstrous collisions in +which so many blunders were committed by both sides that these wars +could not be called wars, they did not accord with the theory, and +therefore could not serve as material for science. + +In 1806 Pfuel had been one of those responsible, for the plan of +campaign that ended in Jena and Auerstadt, but he did not see the +least proof of the fallibility of his theory in the disasters of +that war. On the contrary, the deviations made from his theory were, +in his opinion, the sole cause of the whole disaster, and with +characteristically gleeful sarcasm he would remark, "There, I said the +whole affair would go to the devil!" Pfuel was one of those +theoreticians who so love their theory that they lose sight of the +theory's object- its practical application. His love of theory made +him hate everything practical, and he would not listen to it. He was +even pleased by failures, for failures resulting from deviations in +practice from the theory only proved to him the accuracy of his +theory. + +He said a few words to Prince Andrew and Chernyshev about the +present war, with the air of a man who knows beforehand that all +will go wrong, and who is not displeased that it should be so. The +unbrushed tufts of hair sticking up behind and the hastily brushed +hair on his temples expressed this most eloquently. + +He passed into the next room, and the deep, querulous sounds of +his voice were at once heard from there. + +CHAPTER XI + +Prince Andrew's eyes were still following Pfuel out of the room when +Count Bennigsen entered hurriedly, and nodding to Bolkonski, but not +pausing, went into the study, giving instructions to his adjutant as +he went. The Emperor was following him, and Bennigsen had hastened +on to make some preparations and to be ready to receive the sovereign. +Chernyshev and Prince Andrew went out into the porch, where the +Emperor, who looked fatigued, was dismounting. Marquis Paulucci was +talking to him with particular warmth and the Emperor, with his head +bent to the left, was listening with a dissatisfied air. The Emperor +moved forward evidently wishing to end the conversation, but the +flushed and excited Italian, oblivious of decorum, followed him and +continued to speak. + +"And as for the man who advised forming this camp- the Drissa camp," +said Paulucci, as the Emperor mounted the steps and noticing Prince +Andrew scanned his unfamiliar face, "as to that person, sire..." +continued Paulucci, desperately, apparently unable to restrain +himself, "the man who advised the Drissa camp- I see no alternative +but the lunatic asylum or the gallows!" + +Without heeding the end of the Italian's remarks, and as though +not hearing them, the Emperor, recognizing Bolkonski, addressed him +graciously. + +"I am very glad to see you! Go in there where they are meeting, +and wait for me." + +The Emperor went into the study. He was followed by Prince Peter +Mikhaylovich Volkonski and Baron Stein, and the door closed behind +them. Prince Andrew, taking advantage of the Emperor's permission, +accompanied Paulucci, whom he had known in Turkey, into the drawing +room where the council was assembled. + +Prince Peter Mikhaylovich Volkonski occupied the position, as it +were, of chief of the Emperor's staff. He came out of the study into +the drawing room with some maps which he spread on a table, and put +questions on which he wished to hear the opinion of the gentlemen +present. What had happened was that news (which afterwards proved to +be false) had been received during the night of a movement by the +French to outflank the Drissa camp. + +The first to speak was General Armfeldt who, to meet the +difficulty that presented itself, unexpectedly proposed a perfectly +new position away from the Petersburg and Moscow roads. The reason for +this was inexplicable (unless he wished to show that he, too, could +have an opinion), but he urged that at this point the army should +unite and there await the enemy. It was plain that Armfeldt had +thought out that plan long ago and now expounded it not so much to +answer the questions put- which, in fact, his plan did not answer- +as to avail himself of the opportunity to air it. It was one of the +millions of proposals, one as good as another, that could be made as +long as it was quite unknown what character the war would take. Some +disputed his arguments, others defended them. Young Count Toll +objected to the Swedish general's views more warmly than anyone +else, and in the course of the dispute drew from his side pocket a +well-filled notebook, which he asked permission to read to them. In +these voluminous notes Toll suggested another scheme, totally +different from Armfeldt's or Pfuel's plan of campaign. In answer to +Toll, Paulucci suggested an advance and an attack, which, he urged, +could alone extricate us from the present uncertainty and from the +trap (as he called the Drissa camp) in which we were situated. + +During all these discussions Pfuel and his interpreter, Wolzogen +(his "bridge" in court relations), were silent. Pfuel only snorted +contemptuously and turned away, to show that he would never demean +himself by replying to such nonsense as he was now hearing. So when +Prince Volkonski, who was in the chair, called on him to give his +opinion, he merely said: + +"Why ask me? General Armfeldt has proposed a splendid position +with an exposed rear, or why not this Italian gentleman's attack- very +fine, or a retreat, also good! Why ask me?" said he. "Why, you +yourselves know everything better than I do." + +But when Volkonski said, with a frown, that it was in the +Emperor's name that he asked his opinion, Pfuel rose and, suddenly +growing animated, began to speak: + +"Everything has been spoiled, everything muddled, everybody +thought they knew better than I did, and now you come to me! How +mend matters? There is nothing to mend! The principles laid down by me +must be strictly adhered to," said he, drumming on the table with +his bony fingers. "What is the difficulty? Nonsense, childishness!" + +He went up to the map and speaking rapidly began proving that no +eventuality could alter the efficiency of the Drissa camp, that +everything had been foreseen, and that if the enemy were really +going to outflank it, the enemy would inevitably be destroyed. + +Paulucci, who did not know German, began questioning him in +French. Wolzogen came to the assistance of his chief, who spoke French +badly, and began translating for him, hardly able to keep pace with +Pfuel, who was rapidly demonstrating that not only all that had +happened, but all that could happen, had been foreseen in his +scheme, and that if there were now any difficulties the whole fault +lay in the fact that his plan had not been precisely executed. He kept +laughing sarcastically, he demonstrated, and at last contemptuously +ceased to demonstrate, like a mathematician who ceases to prove in +various ways the accuracy of a problem that has already been proved. +Wolzogen took his place and continued to explain his views in +French, every now and then turning to Pfuel and saying, "Is it not so, +your excellency?" But Pfuel, like a man heated in a fight who +strikes those on his own side, shouted angrily at his own supporter, +Wolzogen: + +"Well, of course, what more is there to explain?" + +Paulucci and Michaud both attacked Wolzogen simultaneously in +French. Armfeldt addressed Pfuel in German. Toll explained to +Volkonski in Russian. Prince Andrew listened and observed in silence. + +Of all these men Prince Andrew sympathized most with Pfuel, angry, +determined, and absurdly self-confident as he was. Of all those +present, evidently he alone was not seeking anything for himself, +nursed no hatred against anyone, and only desired that the plan, +formed on a theory arrived at by years of toil, should be carried out. +He was ridiculous, and unpleasantly sarcastic, but yet he inspired +involuntary respect by his boundless devotion to an idea. Besides +this, the remarks of all except Pfuel had one common trait that had +not been noticeable at the council of war in 1805: there was now a +panic fear of Napoleon's genius, which, though concealed, was +noticeable in every rejoinder. Everything was assumed to be possible +for Napoleon, they expected him from every side, and invoked his +terrible name to shatter each other's proposals. Pfuel alone seemed to +consider Napoleon a barbarian like everyone else who opposed his +theory. But besides this feeling of respect, Pfuel evoked pity in +Prince Andrew. From the tone in which the courtiers addressed him +and the way Paulucci had allowed himself to speak of him to the +Emperor, but above all from a certain desperation in Pfuel's own +expressions, it was clear that the others knew, and Pfuel himself +felt, that his fall was at hand. And despite his self-confidence and +grumpy German sarcasm he was pitiable, with his hair smoothly +brushed on the temples and sticking up in tufts behind. Though he +concealed the fact under a show of irritation and contempt, he was +evidently in despair that the sole remaining chance of verifying his +theory by a huge experiment and proving its soundness to the whole +world was slipping away from him. + +The discussions continued a long time, and the longer they lasted +the more heated became the disputes, culminating in shouts and +personalities, and the less was it possible to arrive at any general +conclusion from all that had been said. Prince Andrew, listening to +this polyglot talk and to these surmises, plans, refutations, and +shouts, felt nothing but amazement at what they were saying. A thought +that had long since and often occurred to him during his military +activities- the idea that there is not and cannot be any science of +war, and that therefore there can be no such thing as a military +genius- now appeared to him an obvious truth. "What theory and science +is possible about a matter the conditions and circumstances of which +are unknown and cannot be defined, especially when the strength of the +acting forces cannot be ascertained? No one was or is able to +foresee in what condition our or the enemy's armies will be in a day's +time, and no one can gauge the force of this or that detachment. +Sometimes- when there is not a coward at the front to shout, 'We are +cut off!' and start running, but a brave and jolly lad who shouts, +'Hurrah!'- a detachment of five thousand is worth thirty thousand, +as at Schon Grabern, while at times fifty thousand run from eight +thousand, as at Austerlitz. What science can there be in a matter in +which, as in all practical matters, nothing can be defined and +everything depends on innumerable conditions, the significance of +which is determined at a particular moment which arrives no one +knows when? Armfeldt says our army is cut in half, and Paulucci says +we have got the French army between two fires; Michaud says that the +worthlessness of the Drissa camp lies in having the river behind it, +and Pfuel says that is what constitutes its strength; Toll proposes +one plan, Armfeldt another, and they are all good and all bad, and the +advantages of any suggestions can be seen only at the moment of trial. +And why do they all speak of a 'military genius'? Is a man a genius +who can order bread to be brought up at the right time and say who +is to go to the right and who to the left? It is only because military +men are invested with pomp and power and crowds of sychophants flatter +power, attributing to it qualities of genius it does not possess. +The best generals I have known were, on the contrary, stupid or +absent-minded men. Bagration was the best, Napoleon himself admitted +that. And of Bonaparte himself! I remember his limited, self-satisfied +face on the field of Austerlitz. Not only does a good army commander +not need any special qualities, on the contrary he needs the absence +of the highest and best human attributes- love, poetry, tenderness, +and philosophic inquiring doubt. He should be limited, firmly +convinced that what he is doing is very important (otherwise he will +not have sufficient patience), and only then will he be a brave +leader. God forbid that he should be humane, should love, or pity, +or think of what is just and unjust. It is understandable that a +theory of their 'genius' was invented for them long ago because they +have power! The success of a military action depends not on them, +but on the man in the ranks who shouts, 'We are lost!' or who +shouts, 'Hurrah!' And only in the ranks can one serve with assurance +of being useful." + +So thought Prince Andrew as he listened to the talking, and he +roused himself only when Paulucci called him and everyone was leaving. + +At the review next day the Emperor asked Prince Andrew where he +would like to serve, and Prince Andrew lost his standing in court +circles forever by not asking to remain attached to the sovereign's +person, but for permission to serve in the army. + +CHAPTER XII + +Before the beginning of the campaign, Rostov had received a letter +from his parents in which they told him briefly of Natasha's illness +and the breaking off of her engagement to Prince Andrew (which they +explained by Natasha's having rejected him) and again asked Nicholas +to retire from the army and return home. On receiving this letter, +Nicholas did not even make any attempt to get leave of absence or to +retire from the army, but wrote to his parents that he was sorry +Natasha was ill and her engagement broken off, and that he would do +all he could to meet their wishes. To Sonya he wrote separately. + +"Adored friend of my soul!" he wrote. "Nothing but honor could +keep me from returning to the country. But now, at the commencement of +the campaign, I should feel dishonored, not only in my comrades' +eyes but in my own, if I preferred my own happiness to my love and +duty to the Fatherland. But this shall be our last separation. Believe +me, directly the war is over, if I am still alive and still loved by +you, I will throw up everything and fly to you, to press you forever +to my ardent breast." + +It was, in fact, only the commencement of the campaign that +prevented Rostov from returning home as he had promised and marrying +Sonya. The autumn in Otradnoe with the hunting, and the winter with +the Christmas holidays and Sonya's love, had opened out to him a vista +of tranquil rural joys and peace such as he had never known before, +and which now allured him. "A splendid wife, children, a good pack +of hounds, a dozen leashes of smart borzois, agriculture, neighbors, +service by election..." thought he. But now the campaign was +beginning, and he had to remain with his regiment. And since it had to +be so, Nicholas Rostov, as was natural to him, felt contented with the +life he led in the regiment and was able to find pleasure in that +life. + +On his return from his furlough Nicholas, having been joyfully +welcomed by his comrades, was sent to obtain remounts and brought back +from the Ukraine excellent horses which pleased him and earned him +commendation from his commanders. During his absence he had been +promoted captain, and when the regiment was put on war footing with an +increase in numbers, he was again allotted his old squadron. + +The campaign began, the regiment was moved into Poland on double +pay, new officers arrived, new men and horses, and above all everybody +was infected with the merrily excited mood that goes with the +commencement of a war, and Rostov, conscious of his advantageous +position in the regiment, devoted himself entirely to the pleasures +and interests of military service, though he knew that sooner or later +he would have to relinquish them. + +The troops retired from Vilna for various complicated reasons of +state, political and strategic. Each step of the retreat was +accompanied by a complicated interplay of interests, arguments, and +passions at headquarters. For the Pavlograd hussars, however, the +whole of this retreat during the finest period of summer and with +sufficient supplies was a very simple and agreeable business. + +It was only at headquarters that there was depression, uneasiness, +and intriguing; in the body of the army they did not ask themselves +where they were going or why. If they regretted having to retreat, +it was only because they had to leave billets they had grown +accustomed to, or some pretty young Polish lady. If the thought that +things looked bad chanced to enter anyone's head, he tried to be as +cheerful as befits a good soldier and not to think of the general +trend of affairs, but only of the task nearest to hand. First they +camped gaily before Vilna, making acquaintance with the Polish +landowners, preparing for reviews and being reviewed by the Emperor +and other high commanders. Then came an order to retreat to Sventsyani +and destroy any provisions they could not carry away with them. +Sventsyani was remembered by the hussars only as the drunken camp, a +name the whole army gave to their encampment there, and because many +complaints were made against the troops, who, taking advantage of +the order to collect provisions, took also horses, carriages, and +carpets from the Polish proprietors. Rostov remembered Sventsyani, +because on the first day of their arrival at that small town he +changed his sergeant major and was unable to manage all the drunken +men of his squadron who, unknown to him, had appropriated five barrels +of old beer. From Sventsyani they retired farther and farther to +Drissa, and thence again beyond Drissa, drawing near to the frontier +of Russia proper. + +On the thirteenth of July the Pavlograds took part in a serious +action for the first time. + +On the twelfth of July, on the eve of that action, there was a heavy +storm of rain and hail. In general, the summer of 18l2 was +remarkable for its storms. + +The two Pavlograd squadrons were bivouacking on a field of rye, +which was already in ear but had been completely trodden down by +cattle and horses. The rain was descending in torrents, and Rostov, +with a young officer named Ilyin, his protege, was sitting in a +hastily constructed shelter. An officer of their regiment, with long +mustaches extending onto his cheeks, who after riding to the staff had +been overtaken by the rain, entered Rostov's shelter. + +"I have come from the staff, Count. Have you heard of Raevski's +exploit?" + +And the officer gave them details of the Saltanov battle, which he +had heard at the staff. + +Rostov, smoking his pipe and turning his head about as the water +trickled down his neck, listened inattentively, with an occasional +glance at Ilyin, who was pressing close to him. This officer, a lad of +sixteen who had recently joined the regiment, was now in the same +relation to Nicholas that Nicholas had been to Denisov seven years +before. Ilyin tried to imitate Rostov in everything and adored him +as a girl might have done. + +Zdrzhinski, the officer with the long mustache, spoke +grandiloquently of the Saltanov dam being "a Russian Thermopylae," and +of how a deed worthy of antiquity had been performed by General +Raevski. He recounted how Raevski had led his two sons onto the dam +under terrific fire and had charged with them beside him. Rostov heard +the story and not only said nothing to encourage Zdrzhinski's +enthusiasm but, on the contrary, looked like a man ashamed of what +he was hearing, though with no intention of contradicting it. Since +the campaigns of Austerlitz and of 1807 Rostov knew by experience that +men always lie when describing military exploits, as he himself had +done when recounting them; besides that, he had experience enough to +know that nothing happens in war at all as we can imagine or relate +it. And so he did not like Zdrzhinski's tale, nor did he like +Zdrzhinski himself who, with his mustaches extending over his +cheeks, bent low over the face of his hearer, as was his habit, and +crowded Rostov in the narrow shanty. Rostov looked at him in +silence. "In the first place, there must have been such a confusion +and crowding on the dam that was being attacked that if Raevski did +lead his sons there, it could have had no effect except perhaps on +some dozen men nearest to him," thought he, "the rest could not have +seen how or with whom Raevski came onto the dam. And even those who +did see it would not have been much stimulated by it, for what had +they to do with Raevski's tender paternal feelings when their own +skins were in danger? And besides, the fate of the Fatherland did +not depend on whether they took the Saltanov dam or not, as we are +told was the case at Thermopylae. So why should he have made such a +sacrifice? And why expose his own children in the battle? I would +not have taken my brother Petya there, or even Ilyin, who's a stranger +to me but a nice lad, but would have tried to put them somewhere under +cover," Nicholas continued to think, as he listened to Zdrzhinski. But +he did not express his thoughts, for in such matters, too, he had +gained experience. He knew that this tale redounded to the glory of +our arms and so one had to pretend not to doubt it. And he acted +accordingly. + +"I can't stand this any more," said Ilyin, noticing that Rostov +did not relish Zdrzhinski's conversation. "My stockings and shirt... +and the water is running on my seat! I'll go and look for shelter. The +rain seems less heavy." + +Ilyin went out and Zdrzhinski rode away. + +Five minutes later Ilyin, splashing through the mud, came running +back to the shanty. + +"Hurrah! Rostov, come quick! I've found it! About two hundred +yards away there's a tavern where ours have already gathered. We can +at least get dry there, and Mary Hendrikhovna's there." + +Mary Hendrikhovna was the wife of the regimental doctor, a pretty +young German woman he had married in Poland. The doctor, whether +from lack of means or because he did not like to part from his young +wife in the early days of their marriage, took her about with him +wherever the hussar regiment went and his jealousy had become a +standing joke among the hussar officers. + +Rostov threw his cloak over his shoulders, shouted to Lavrushka to +follow with the things, and- now slipping in the mud, now splashing +right through it- set off with Ilyin in the lessening rain and the +darkness that was occasionally rent by distant lightning. + +"Rostov, where are you?" + +"Here. What lightning!" they called to one another. + +CHAPTER XIII + +In the tavern, before which stood the doctor's covered cart, there +were already some five officers. Mary Hendrikhovna, a plump little +blonde German, in a dressing jacket and nightcap, was sitting on a +broad bench in the front corner. Her husband, the doctor, lay asleep +behind her. Rostov and Ilyin, on entering the room, were welcomed with +merry shouts and laughter. + +"Dear me, how jolly we are!" said Rostov laughing. + +"And why do you stand there gaping?" + +"What swells they are! Why, the water streams from them! Don't +make our drawing room so wet." + +"Don't mess Mary Hendrikhovna's dress!" cried other voices. + +Rostov and Ilyin hastened to find a corner where they could change +into dry clothes without offending Mary Hendrikhovna's modesty. They +were going into a tiny recess behind a partition to change, but +found it completely filled by three officers who sat playing cards +by the light of a solitary candle on an empty box, and these +officers would on no account yield their position. Mary Hendrikhovna +obliged them with the loan of a petticoat to be used as a curtain, and +behind that screen Rostov and Ilyin, helped by Lavrushka who had +brought their kits, changed their wet things for dry ones. + +A fire was made up in the dilapidated brick stove. A board was +found, fixed on two saddles and covered with a horsecloth, a small +samovar was produced and a cellaret and half a bottle of rum, and +having asked Mary Hendrikhovna to preside, they all crowded round her. +One offered her a clean handkerchief to wipe her charming hands, +another spread a jacket under her little feet to keep them from the +damp, another hung his coat over the window to keep out the draft, and +yet another waved the flies off her husband's face, lest he should +wake up. + +"Leave him alone," said Mary Hendrikhovna, smiling timidly and +happily. "He is sleeping well as it is, after a sleepless night." + +"Oh, no, Mary Hendrikhovna," replied the officer, "one must look +after the doctor. Perhaps he'll take pity on me someday, when it comes +to cutting off a leg or an arm for me." + +There were only three tumblers, the water was so muddy that one +could not make out whether the tea was strong or weak, and the samovar +held only six tumblers of water, but this made it all the pleasanter +to take turns in order of seniority to receive one's tumbler from Mary +Hendrikhovna's plump little hands with their short and not overclean +nails. All the officers appeared to be, and really were, in love +with her that evening. Even those playing cards behind the partition +soon left their game and came over to the samovar, yielding to the +general mood of courting Mary Hendrikhovna. She, seeing herself +surrounded by such brilliant and polite young men, beamed with +satisfaction, try as she might to hide it, and perturbed as she +evidently was each time her husband moved in his sleep behind her. + +There was only one spoon, sugar was more plentiful than anything +else, but it took too long to dissolve, so it was decided that Mary +Hendrikhovna should stir the sugar for everyone in turn. Rostov +received his tumbler, and adding some rum to it asked Mary +Hendrikhovna to stir it. + +"But you take it without sugar?" she said, smiling all the time, +as if everything she said and everything the others said was very +amusing and had a double meaning. + +"It is not the sugar I want, but only that your little hand should +stir my tea." + +Mary Hendrikhovna assented and began looking for the spoon which +someone meanwhile had pounced on. + +"Use your finger, Mary Hendrikhovna, it will be still nicer," said +Rostov. + +"Too hot!" she replied, blushing with pleasure. + +Ilyin put a few drops of rum into the bucket of water and brought it +to Mary Hendrikhovna, asking her to stir it with her finger. + +"This is my cup," said he. "Only dip your finger in it and I'll +drink it all up." + +When they had emptied the samovar, Rostov took a pack of cards and +proposed that they should play "Kings" with Mary Hendrikhovna. They +drew lots to settle who should make up her set. At Rostov's suggestion +it was agreed that whoever became "King" should have the right to kiss +Mary Hendrikhovna's hand, and that the "Booby" should go to refill and +reheat the samovar for the doctor when the latter awoke. + +"Well, but supposing Mary Hendrikhovna is 'King'?" asked Ilyin. + +"As it is, she is Queen, and her word is law!" + +They had hardly begun to play before the doctor's disheveled head +suddenly appeared from behind Mary Hendrikhovna. He had been awake for +some time, listening to what was being said, and evidently found +nothing entertaining or amusing in what was going on. His face was sad +and depressed. Without greeting the officers, he scratched himself and +asked to be allowed to pass as they were blocking the way. As soon +as he had left the room all the officers burst into loud laughter +and Mary Hendrikhovna blushed till her eyes filled with tears and +thereby became still more attractive to them. Returning from the yard, +the doctor told his wife (who had ceased to smile so happily, and +looked at him in alarm, awaiting her sentence) that the rain had +ceased and they must go to sleep in their covered cart, or +everything in it would be stolen. + +"But I'll send an orderly.... Two of them!" said Rostov. "What an +idea, doctor!" + +"I'll stand guard on it myself!" said Ilyin. + +"No, gentlemen, you have had your sleep, but I have not slept for +two nights," replied the doctor, and he sat down morosely beside his +wife, waiting for the game to end. + +Seeing his gloomy face as he frowned at his wife, the officers +grew still merrier, and some of them could not refrain from +laughter, for which they hurriedly sought plausible pretexts. When +he had gone, taking his wife with him, and had settled down with her +in their covered cart, the officers lay down in the tavern, covering +themselves with their wet cloaks, but they did not sleep for a long +time; now they exchanged remarks, recalling the doctor's uneasiness +and his wife's delight, now they ran out into the porch and reported +what was taking place in the covered trap. Several times Rostov, +covering his head, tried to go to sleep, but some remark would +arouse him and conversation would be resumed, to the accompaniment +of unreasoning, merry, childlike laughter. + +CHAPTER XIV + +It was nearly three o'clock but no one was yet asleep, when the +quartermaster appeared with an order to move on to the little town +of Ostrovna. Still laughing and talking, the officers began +hurriedly getting ready and again boiled again boiled some muddy water +in the samovar. But Rostov went off to his squadron without waiting +for tea. Day was breaking, the rain had ceased, and the clouds were +dispersing. It felt damp and cold, especially in clothes that were +still moist. As they left the tavern in the twilight of the dawn, +Rostov and Ilyin both glanced under the wet and glistening leather +hood of the doctor's cart, from under the apron of which his feet were +sticking out, and in the middle of which his wife's nightcap was +visible and her sleepy breathing audible. + +"She really is a dear little thing," said Rostov to Ilyin, who was +following him. + +"A charming woman!" said Ilyin, with all the gravity of a boy of +sixteen. + +Half an hour later the squadron was lined up on the road. The +command was heard to "mount" and the soldiers crossed themselves and +mounted. Rostov riding in front gave the order "Forward!" and the +hussars, with clanking sabers and subdued talk, their horses' hoofs +splashing in the mud, defiled in fours and moved along the broad +road planted with birch trees on each side, following the infantry and +a battery that had gone on in front. + +Tattered, blue-purple clouds, reddening in the east, were scudding +before the wind. It was growing lighter and lighter. That curly +grass which always grows by country roadsides became clearly +visible, still wet with the night's rain; the drooping branches of the +birches, also wet, swayed in the wind and flung down bright drops of +water to one side. The soldiers' faces were more and more clearly +visible. Rostov, always closely followed by Ilyin, rode along the side +of the road between two rows of birch trees. + +When campaigning, Rostov allowed himself the indulgence of riding +not a regimental but a Cossack horse. A judge of horses and a +sportsman, he had lately procured himself a large, fine, mettlesome, +Donets horse, dun-colored, with light mane and tail, and when he +rode it no one could outgallop him. To ride this horse was a +pleasure to him, and he thought of the horse, of the morning, of the +doctor's wife, but not once of the impending danger. + +Formerly, when going into action, Rostov had felt afraid; now he had +not the least feeling of fear. He was fearless, not because he had +grown used to being under fire (one cannot grow used to danger), but +because he had learned how to manage his thoughts when in danger. He +had grown accustomed when going into action to think about anything +but what would seem most likely to interest him- the impending danger. +During the first period of his service, hard as he tried and much as +he reproached himself with cowardice, he had not been able to do this, +but with time it had come of itself. Now he rode beside Ilyin under +the birch trees, occasionally plucking leaves from a branch that met +his hand, sometimes touching his horse's side with his foot, or, +without turning round, handing a pipe he had finished to an hussar +riding behind him, with as calm and careless an air as though he +were merely out for a ride. He glanced with pity at the excited face +of Ilyin, who talked much and in great agitation. He knew from +experience the tormenting expectation of terror and death the cornet +was suffering and knew that only time could help him. + +As soon as the sun appeared in a clear strip of sky beneath the +clouds, the wind fell, as if it dared not spoil the beauty of the +summer morning after the storm; drops still continued to fall, but +vertically now, and all was still. The whole sun appeared on the +horizon and disappeared behind a long narrow cloud that hung above it. +A few minutes later it reappeared brighter still from behind the top +of the cloud, tearing its edge. Everything grew bright and +glittered. And with that light, and as if in reply to it, came the +sound of guns ahead of them. + +Before Rostov had had time to consider and determine the distance of +that firing, Count Ostermann-Tolstoy's adjutant came galloping from +Vitebsk with orders to advance at a trot along the road. + +The squadron overtook and passed the infantry and the battery- which +had also quickened their pace- rode down a hill, and passing through +an empty and deserted village again ascended. The horses began to +lather and the men to flush. + +"Halt! Dress your ranks!" the order of the regimental commander +was heard ahead. "Forward by the left. Walk, march!" came the order +from in front. + +And the hussars, passing along the line of troops on the left +flank of our position, halted behind our Uhlans who were in the +front line. To the right stood our infantry in a dense column: they +were the reserve. Higher up the hill, on the very horizon, our guns +were visible through the wonderfully clear air, brightly illuminated +by slanting morning sunbeams. In front, beyond a hollow dale, could be +seen the enemy's columns and guns. Our advanced line, already in +action, could be heard briskly exchanging shots with the enemy in +the dale. + +At these sounds, long unheard, Rostov's spirits rose, as at the +strains of the merriest music. Trap-ta-ta-tap! cracked the shots, +now together, now several quickly one after another. Again all was +silent and then again it sounded as if someone were walking on +detonators and exploding them. + +The hussars remained in the same place for about an hour. A +cannonade began. Count Ostermann with his suite rode up behind the +squadron, halted, spoke to the commander of the regiment, and rode +up the hill to the guns. + +After Ostermann had gone, a command rang out to the Uhlans. + +"Form column! Prepare to charge!" + +The infantry in front of them parted into platoons to allow the +cavalry to pass. The Uhlans started, the streamers on their spears +fluttering, and trotted downhill toward the French cavalry which was +seen below to the left. + +As soon as the Uhlans descended the hill, the hussars were ordered +up the hill to support the battery. As they took the places vacated by +the Uhlans, bullets came from the front, whining and whistling, but +fell spent without taking effect. + +The sounds, which he had not heard for so long, had an even more +pleasurable and exhilarating effect on Rostov than the previous sounds +of firing. Drawing himself up, he viewed the field of battle opening +out before him from the hill, and with his whole soul followed the +movement of the Uhlans. They swooped down close to the French +dragoons, something confused happened there amid the smoke, and five +minutes later our Uhlans were galloping back, not to the place they +had occupied but more to the left, and among the orange-colored Uhlans +on chestnut horses and behind them, in a large group, blue French +dragoons on gray horses could be seen. + +CHAPTER XV + +Rostov, with his keen sportsman's eye, was one of the first to catch +sight of these blue French dragoons pursuing our Uhlans. Nearer and +nearer in disorderly crowds came the Uhlans and the French dragoons +pursuing them. He could already see how these men, who looked so small +at the foot of the hill, jostled and overtook one another, waving +their arms and their sabers in the air. + +Rostov gazed at what was happening before him as at a hunt. He +felt instinctively that if the hussars struck at the French dragoons +now, the latter could not withstand them, but if a charge was to be +made it must be done now, at that very moment, or it would be too +late. He looked around. A captain, standing beside him, was gazing +like himself with eyes fixed on the cavalry below them. + +"Andrew Sevastyanych!" said Rostov. "You know, we could crush +them...." + +"A fine thing too!" replied the captain, "and really..." + +Rostov, without waiting to hear him out, touched his horse, galloped +to the front of his squadron, and before he had time to finish +giving the word of command, the whole squadron, sharing his feeling, +was following him. Rostov himself did not know how or why he did it. +He acted as he did when hunting, without reflecting or considering. He +saw the dragoons near and that they were galloping in disorder; he +knew they could not withstand an attack- knew there was only that +moment and that if he let it slip it would not return. The bullets +were whining and whistling so stimulatingly around him and his horse +was so eager to go that he could not restrain himself. He touched +his horse, gave the word of command, and immediately, hearing behind +him the tramp of the horses of his deployed squadron, rode at full +trot downhill toward the dragoons. Hardly had they reached the +bottom of the hill before their pace instinctively changed to a +gallop, which grew faster and faster as they drew nearer to our Uhlans +and the French dragoons who galloped after them. The dragoons were now +close at hand. On seeing the hussars, the foremost began to turn, +while those behind began to halt. With the same feeling with which +he had galloped across the path of a wolf, Rostov gave rein to his +Donets horse and galloped to intersect the path of the dragoons' +disordered lines. One Uhlan stopped, another who was on foot flung +himself to the ground to avoid being knocked over, and a riderless +horse fell in among the hussars. Nearly all the French dragoons were +galloping back. Rostov, picking out one on a gray horse, dashed +after him. On the way he came upon a bush, his gallant horse cleared +it, and almost before he had righted himself in his saddle he saw that +he would immediately overtake the enemy he had selected. That +Frenchman, by his uniform an officer, was going at a gallop, crouching +on his gray horse and urging it on with his saber. In another moment +Rostov's horse dashed its breast against the hindquarters of the +officer's horse, almost knocking it over, and at the same instant +Rostov, without knowing why, raised his saber and struck the Frenchman +with it. + +The instant he had done this, all Rostov's animation vanished. The +officer fell, not so much from the blow- which had but slightly cut +his arm above the elbow- as from the shock to his horse and from +fright. Rostov reined in his horse, and his eyes sought his foe to see +whom he had vanquished. The French dragoon officer was hopping with +one foot on the ground, the other being caught in the stirrup. His +eyes, screwed up with fear as if he every moment expected another +blow, gazed up at Rostov with shrinking terror. His pale and +mud-stained face- fair and young, with a dimple in the chin and +light-blue eyes- was not an enemy's face at all suited to a +battlefield, but a most ordinary, homelike face. Before Rostov had +decided what to do with him, the officer cried, "I surrender!" He +hurriedly but vainly tried to get his foot out of the stirrup and +did not remove his frightened blue eyes from Rostov's face. Some +hussars who galloped up disengaged his foot and helped him into the +saddle. On all sides, the hussars were busy with the dragoons; one was +wounded, but though his face was bleeding, he would not give up his +horse; another was perched up behind an hussar with his arms round +him; a third was being helped by an hussar to mount his horse. In +front, the French infantry were firing as they ran. The hussars +galloped hastily back with their prisoners. Rostov galloped back +with the rest, aware of an unpleasant feeling of depression in his +heart. Something vague and confused, which he could not at all account +for, had come over him with the capture of that officer and the blow +he had dealt him. + +Count Ostermann-Tolstoy met the returning hussars, sent for +Rostov, thanked him, and said he would report his gallant deed to +the Emperor and would recommend him for a St. George's Cross. When +sent for by Count Ostermann, Rostov, remembering that he had charged +without orders, felt sure his commander was sending for him to +punish him for breach of discipline. Ostermann's flattering words +and promise of a reward should therefore have struck him all the +more pleasantly, but he still felt that same vaguely disagreeable +feeling of moral nausea. "But what on earth is worrying me?" he +asked himself as he rode back from the general. "Ilyin? No, he's safe. +Have I disgraced myself in any way? No, that's not it." Something +else, resembling remorse, tormented him. "Yes, oh yes, that French +officer with the dimple. And I remember how my arm paused when I +raised it." + +Rostov saw the prisoners being led away and galloped after them to +have a look at his Frenchman with the dimple on his chin. He was +sitting in his foreign uniform on an hussar packhorse and looked +anxiously about him; The sword cut on his arm could scarcely be called +a wound. He glanced at Rostov with a feigned smile and waved his +hand in greeting. Rostov still had the same indefinite feeling, as +of shame. + +All that day and the next his friends and comrades noticed that +Rostov, without being dull or angry, was silent, thoughtful, and +preoccupied. He drank reluctantly, tried to remain alone, and kept +turning something over in his mind. + +Rostov was always thinking about that brilliant exploit of his, +which to his amazement had gained him the St. George's Cross and +even given him a reputation for bravery, and there was something he +could not at all understand. "So others are even more afraid than I +am!" he thought. "So that's all there is in what is called heroism! +And heroism! And did I do it for my country's sake? And how was he +to blame, with his dimple and blue eyes? And how frightened he was! He +thought that I should kill him. Why should I kill him? My hand +trembled. And they have given me a St. George's Cross.... I can't make +it out at all." + +But while Nicholas was considering these questions and still could +reach no clear solution of what puzzled him so, the wheel of fortune +in the service, as often happens, turned in his favor. After the +affair at Ostrovna he was brought into notice, received command of +an hussar battalion, and when a brave officer was needed he was +chosen. + +CHAPTER XVI + +On receiving news of Natasha's illness, the countess, though not +quite well yet and still weak, went to Moscow with Petya and the +rest of the household, and the whole family moved from Marya +Dmitrievna's house to their own and settled down in town. + +Natasha's illness was so serious that, fortunately for her and for +her parents, the consideration of all that had caused the illness, her +conduct and the breaking off of her engagement, receded into the +background. She was so ill that it was impossible for them to consider +in how far she was to blame for what had happened. She could not eat +or sleep, grew visibly thinner, coughed, and, as the doctors made them +feel, was in danger. They could not think of anything but how to +help her. Doctors came to see her singly and in consultation, talked +much in French, German, and Latin, blamed one another, and +prescribed a great variety of medicines for all the diseases known +to them, but the simple idea never occurred to any of them that they +could not know the disease Natasha was suffering from, as no disease +suffered by a live man can be known, for every living person has his +own peculiarities and always has his own peculiar, personal, novel, +complicated disease, unknown to medicine- not a disease of the +lungs, liver, skin, heart, nerves, and so on mentioned in medical +books, but a disease consisting of one of the innumerable combinations +of the maladies of those organs. This simple thought could not occur +to the doctors (as it cannot occur to a wizard that he is unable to +work his charms) because the business of their lives was to cure, +and they received money for it and had spent the best years of their +lives on that business. But, above all, that thought was kept out of +their minds by the fact that they saw they were really useful, as in +fact they were to the whole Rostov family. Their usefulness did not +depend on making the patient swallow substances for the most part +harmful (the harm was scarcely perceptible, as they were given in +small doses), but they were useful, necessary, and indispensable +because they satisfied a mental need of the invalid and of those who +loved her- and that is why there are, and always will be, +pseudo-healers, wise women, homeopaths, and allopaths. They +satisfied that eternal human need for hope of relief, for sympathy, +and that something should be done, which is felt by those who are +suffering. They satisfied the need seen in its most elementary form in +a child, when it wants to have a place rubbed that has been hurt. A +child knocks itself and runs at once to the arms of its mother or +nurse to have the aching spot rubbed or kissed, and it feels better +when this is done. The child cannot believe that the strongest and +wisest of its people have no remedy for its pain, and the hope of +relief and the expression of its mother's sympathy while she rubs +the bump comforts it. The doctors were of use to Natasha because +they kissed and rubbed her bump, assuring her that it would soon +pass if only the coachman went to the chemist's in the Arbat and got a +powder and some pills in a pretty box of a ruble and seventy kopeks, +and if she took those powders in boiled water at intervals of +precisely two hours, neither more nor less. + +What would Sonya and the count and countess have done, how would +they have looked, if nothing had been done, if there had not been +those pills to give by the clock, the warm drinks, the chicken +cutlets, and all the other details of life ordered by the doctors, the +carrying out of which supplied an occupation and consolation to the +family circle? How would the count have borne his dearly loved +daughter's illness had he not known that it was costing him a thousand +rubles, and that he would not grudge thousands more to benefit her, or +had he not known that if her illness continued he would not grudge yet +other thousands and would take her abroad for consultations there, and +had he not been able to explain the details of how Metivier and Feller +had not understood the symptoms, but Frise had, and Mudrov had +diagnosed them even better? What would the countess have done had +she not been able sometimes to scold the invalid for not strictly +obeying the doctor's orders? + +"You'll never get well like that," she would say, forgetting her +grief in her vexation, "if you won't obey the doctor and take your +medicine at the right time! You mustn't trifle with it, you know, or +it may turn to pneumonia," she would go on, deriving much comfort from +the utterance of that foreign word, incomprehensible to others as well +as to herself. + +What would Sonya have done without the glad consciousness that she +had not undressed during the first three nights, in order to be +ready to carry out all the doctor's injunctions with precision, and +that she still kept awake at night so as not to miss the proper time +when the slightly harmful pills in the little gilt box had to be +administered? Even to Natasha herself it was pleasant to see that so +many sacrifices were being made for her sake, and to know that she had +to take medicine at certain hours, though she declared that no +medicine would cure her and that it was all nonsense. And it was +even pleasant to be able to show, by disregarding the orders, that she +did not believe in medical treatment and did not value her life. + +The doctor came every day, felt her pulse, looked at her tongue, and +regardless of her grief-stricken face joked with her. But when he +had gone into another room, to which the countess hurriedly followed +him, he assumed a grave air and thoughtfully shaking his head said +that though there was danger, he had hopes of the effect of this +last medicine and one must wait and see, that the malady was chiefly +mental, but... And the countess, trying to conceal the action from +herself and from him, slipped a gold coin into his hand and always +returned to the patient with a more tranquil mind. + +The symptoms of Natasha's illness were that she ate little, slept +little, coughed, and was always low-spirited. The doctors said that +she could not get on without medical treatment, so they kept her in +the stifling atmosphere of the town, and the Rostovs did not move to +the country that summer of 1812. + +In spite of the many pills she swallowed and the drops and powders +out of the little bottles and boxes of which Madame Schoss who was +fond of such things made a large collection, and in spite of being +deprived of the country life to which she was accustomed, youth +prevailed. Natasha's grief began to be overlaid by the impressions +of daily life, it ceased to press so painfully on her heart, it +gradually faded into the past, and she began to recover physically. + +CHAPTER XVII + +Natasha was calmer but no happier. She not merely avoided all +external forms of pleasure- balls, promenades, concerts, and theaters- +but she never laughed without a sound of tears in her laughter. She +could not sing. As soon as she began to laugh, or tried to sing by +herself, tears choked her: tears of remorse, tears at the recollection +of those pure times which could never return, tears of vexation that +she should so uselessly have ruined her young life which might have +been so happy. Laughter and singing in particular seemed to her like a +blasphemy, in face of her sorrow. Without any need of +self-restraint, no wish to coquet ever entered her head. She said +and felt at that time that no man was more to her than Nastasya +Ivanovna, the buffoon. Something stood sentinel within her and forbade +her every joy. Besides, she had lost all the old interests of her +carefree girlish life that had been so full of hope. The previous +autumn, the hunting, "Uncle," and the Christmas holidays spent with +Nicholas at Otradnoe were what she recalled oftenest and most +painfully. What would she not have given to bring back even a single +day of that time! But it was gone forever. Her presentiment at the +time had not deceived her- that that state of freedom and readiness +for any enjoyment would not return again. Yet it was necessary to live +on. + +It comforted her to reflect that she was not better as she had +formerly imagined, but worse, much worse, than anybody else in the +world. But this was not enough. She knew that, and asked herself, +"What next?" But there was nothing to come. There was no joy in +life, yet life was passing. Natasha apparently tried not to be a +burden or a hindrance to anyone, but wanted nothing for herself. She +kept away from everyone in the house and felt at ease only with her +brother Petya. She liked to be with him better than with the others, +and when alone with him she sometimes laughed. She hardly ever left +the house and of those who came to see them was glad to see only one +person, Pierre. It would have been impossible to treat her with more +delicacy, greater care, and at the same time more seriously than did +Count Bezukhov. Natasha unconsciously felt this delicacy and so +found great pleasure in his society. But she was not even grateful +to him for it; nothing good on Pierre's part seemed to her to be an +effort, it seemed so natural for him to be kind to everyone that there +was no merit in his kindness. Sometimes Natasha noticed +embarrassment and awkwardness on his part in her presence, +especially when he wanted to do something to please her, or feared +that something they spoke of would awaken memories distressing to her. +She noticed this and attributed it to his general kindness and +shyness, which she imagined must be the same toward everyone as it was +to her. After those involuntary words- that if he were free he would +have asked on his knees for her hand and her love- uttered at a moment +when she was so strongly agitated, Pierre never spoke to Natasha of +his feelings; and it seemed plain to her that those words, which had +then so comforted her, were spoken as all sorts of meaningless words +are spoken to comfort a crying child. It was not because Pierre was +a married man, but because Natasha felt very strongly with him that +moral barrier the absence of which she had experienced with Kuragin +that it never entered her head that the relations between him and +herself could lead to love on her part, still less on his, or even +to the kind of tender, self-conscious, romantic friendship between a +man and a woman of which she had known several instances. + +Before the end of the fast of St. Peter, Agrafena Ivanovna Belova, a +country neighbor of the Rostovs, came to Moscow to pay her devotions +at the shrines of the Moscow saints. She suggested that Natasha should +fast and prepare for Holy Communion, and Natasha gladly welcomed the +idea. Despite the doctor's orders that she should not go out early +in the morning, Natasha insisted on fasting and preparing for the +sacrament, not as they generally prepared for it in the Rostov +family by attending three services in their own house, but as Agrafena +Ivanovna did, by going to church every day for a week and not once +missing Vespers, Matins, or Mass. + +The countess was pleased with Natasha's zeal; after the poor results +of the medical treatment, in the depths of her heart she hoped that +prayer might help her daughter more than medicines and, though not +without fear and concealing it from the doctor, she agreed to +Natasha's wish and entrusted her to Belova. Agrafena Ivanovna used +to come to wake Natasha at three in the morning, but generally found +her already awake. She was afraid of being late for Matins. Hastily +washing, and meekly putting on her shabbiest dress and an old +mantilla, Natasha, shivering in the fresh air, went out into the +deserted streets lit by the clear light of dawn. By Agrafena +Ivanovna's advice Natasha prepared herself not in their own parish, +but at a church where, according to the devout Agrafena Ivanovna, +the priest was a man of very severe and lofty life. There were never +many people in the church; Natasha always stood beside Belova in the +customary place before an icon of the Blessed Virgin, let into the +screen before the choir on the left side, and a feeling, new to her, +of humility before something great and incomprehensible, seized her +when at that unusual morning hour, gazing at the dark face of the +Virgin illuminated by the candles burning before it and by the morning +light falling from the window, she listened to the words of the +service which she tried to follow with understanding. When she +understood them her personal feeling became interwoven in the +prayers with shades of its own. When she did not understand, it was +sweeter still to think that the wish to understand everything is +pride, that it is impossible to understand all, that it is only +necessary to believe and to commit oneself to God, whom she felt +guiding her soul at those moments. She crossed herself, bowed low, and +when she did not understand, in horror at her own vileness, simply +asked God to forgive her everything, everything, to have mercy upon +her. The prayers to which she surrendered herself most of all were +those of repentance. On her way home at an early hour when she met +no one but bricklayers going to work or men sweeping the street, and +everybody within the houses was still asleep, Natasha experienced a +feeling new to her, a sense of the possibility of correcting her +faults, the possibility of a new, clean life, and of happiness. + +During the whole week she spent in this way, that feeling grew every +day. And the happiness of taking communion, or "communing" as Agrafena +Ivanovna, joyously playing with the word, called it, seemed to Natasha +so great that she felt she should never live till that blessed Sunday. + +But the happy day came, and on that memorable Sunday, when, +dressed in white muslin, she returned home after communion, for the +first time for many months she felt calm and not oppressed by the +thought of the life that lay before her. + +The doctor who came to see her that day ordered her to continue +the powders he had prescribed a fortnight previously. + +"She must certainly go on taking them morning and evening," said he, +evidently sincerely satisfied with his success. "Only, please be +particular about it. + +"Be quite easy," he continued playfully, as he adroitly took the +gold coin in his palm. "She will soon be singing and frolicking about. +The last medicine has done her a very great deal of good. She has +freshened up very much." + +The countess, with a cheerful expression on her face, looked down at +her nails and spat a little for luck as she returned to the drawing +room. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +At the beginning of July more and more disquieting reports about the +war began to spread in Moscow; people spoke of an appeal by the +Emperor to the people, and of his coming himself from the army to +Moscow. And as up to the eleventh of July no manifesto or appeal had +been received, exaggerated reports became current about them and about +the position of Russia. It was said that the Emperor was leaving the +army because it was in danger, it was said that Smolensk had +surrendered, that Napoleon had an army of a million and only a miracle +could save Russia. + +On the eleventh of July, which was Saturday, the manifesto was +received but was not yet in print, and Pierre, who was at the +Rostovs', promised to come to dinner next day, Sunday, and bring a +copy of the manifesto and appeal, which he would obtain from Count +Rostopchin. + +That Sunday, the Rostovs went to Mass at the Razumovskis' private +chapel as usual. It was a hot July day. Even at ten o'clock, when +the Rostovs got out of their carriage at the chapel, the sultry air, +the shouts of hawkers, the light and gay summer clothes of the +crowd, the dusty leaves of the trees on the boulevard, the sounds of +the band and the white trousers of a battalion marching to parade, the +rattling of wheels on the cobblestones, and the brilliant, hot +sunshine were all full of that summer languor, that content and +discontent with the present, which is most strongly felt on a +bright, hot day in town. All the Moscow notabilities, all the Rostovs' +acquaintances, were at the Razumovskis' chapel, for, as if expecting +something to happen, many wealthy families who usually left town for +their country estates had not gone away that summer. As Natasha, at +her mother's side, passed through the crowd behind a liveried +footman who cleared the way for them, she heard a young man speaking +about her in too loud a whisper. + +"That's Rostova, the one who..." + +"She's much thinner, but all the same she's pretty!" + +She heard, or thought she heard, the names of Kuragin and Bolkonski. +But she was always imagining that. It always seemed to her that +everyone who looked at her was thinking only of what had happened to +her. With a sinking heart, wretched as she always was now when she +found herself in a crowd, Natasha in her lilac silk dress trimmed with +black lace walked- as women can walk- with the more repose and +stateliness the greater the pain and shame in her soul. She knew for +certain that she was pretty, but this no longer gave her +satisfaction as it used to. On the contrary it tormented her more than +anything else of late, and particularly so on this bright, hot +summer day in town. "It's Sunday again- another week past," she +thought, recalling that she had been here the Sunday before, "and +always the same life that is no life, and the same surroundings in +which it used to be so easy to live. I'm pretty, I'm young, and I know +that now I am good. I used to be bad, but now I know I am good," she +thought, "but yet my best years are slipping by and are no good to +anyone." She stood by her mother's side and exchanged nods with +acquaintances near her. From habit she scrutinized the ladies' +dresses, condemned the bearing of a lady standing close by who was not +crossing herself properly but in a cramped manner, and again she +thought with vexation that she was herself being judged and was +judging others, and suddenly, at the sound of the service, she felt +horrified at her own vileness, horrified that the former purity of her +soul was again lost to her. + +A comely, fresh-looking old man was conducting the service with that +mild solemnity which has so elevating and soothing an effect on the +souls of the worshipers. The gates of the sanctuary screen were +closed, the curtain was slowly drawn, and from behind it a soft +mysterious voice pronounced some words. Tears, the cause of which +she herself did not understand, made Natasha's breast heave, and a +joyous but oppressive feeling agitated her. + +"Teach me what I should do, how to live my life, how I may grow good +forever, forever!" she pleaded. + +The deacon came out onto the raised space before the altar screen +and, holding his thumb extended, drew his long hair from under his +dalmatic and, making the sign of the cross on his breast, began in a +loud and solemn voice to recite the words of the prayer... + +"In peace let us pray unto the Lord." + +"As one community, without distinction of class, without enmity, +united by brotherly love- let us pray!" thought Natasha. + +"For the peace that is from above, and for the salvation of our +souls." + +"For the world of angels and all the spirits who dwell above us," +prayed Natasha. + +When they prayed for the warriors, she thought of her brother and +Denisov. When they prayed for all traveling by land and sea, she +remembered Prince Andrew, prayed for him, and asked God to forgive her +all the wrongs she had done him. When they prayed for those who love +us, she prayed for the members of her own family, her father and +mother and Sonya, realizing for the first time how wrongly she had +acted toward them, and feeling all the strength of her love for +them. When they prayed for those who hate us, she tried to think of +her enemies and people who hated her, in order to pray for them. She +included among her enemies the creditors and all who had business +dealings with her father, and always at the thought of enemies and +those who hated her she remembered Anatole who had done her so much +harm- and though he did not hate her she gladly prayed for him as +for an enemy. Only at prayer did she feel able to think clearly and +calmly of Prince Andrew and Anatole, as men for whom her feelings were +as nothing compared with her awe and devotion to God. When they prayed +for the Imperial family and the Synod, she bowed very low and made the +sign of the cross, saying to herself that even if she did not +understand, still she could not doubt, and at any rate loved the +governing Synod and prayed for it. + +When he had finished the Litany the deacon crossed the stole over +his breast and said, "Let us commit ourselves and our whole lives to +Christ the Lord!" + +"Commit ourselves to God," Natasha inwardly repeated. "Lord God, I +submit myself to Thy will!" she thought. "I want nothing, wish for +nothing; teach me what to do and how to use my will! Take me, take +me!" prayed Natasha, with impatient emotion in her heart, not crossing +herself but letting her slender arms hang down as if expecting some +invisible power at any moment to take her and deliver her from +herself, from her regrets, desires, remorse, hopes, and sins. + +The countess looked round several times at her daughter's softened +face and shining eyes and prayed God to help her. + +Unexpectedly, in the middle of the service, and not in the usual +order Natasha knew so well, the deacon brought out a small stool, +the one he knelt on when praying on Trinity Sunday, and placed it +before the doors of the sanctuary screen. The priest came out with his +purple velvet biretta on his head, adjusted his hair, and knelt down +with an effort. Everybody followed his example and they looked at +one another in surprise. Then came the prayer just received from the +Synod- a prayer for the deliverance of Russia from hostile invasion. + +"Lord God of might, God of our salvation!" began the priest in +that voice, clear, not grandiloquent but mild, in which only the +Slav clergy read and which acts so irresistibly on a Russian heart. + +"Lord God of might, God of our salvation! Look this day in mercy and +blessing on Thy humble people, and graciously hear us, spare us, and +have mercy upon us! This foe confounding Thy land, desiring to lay +waste the whole world, rises against us; these lawless men are +gathered together to overthrow Thy kingdom, to destroy Thy dear +Jerusalem, Thy beloved Russia; to defile Thy temples, to overthrow +Thine altars, and to desecrate our holy shrines. How long, O Lord, how +long shall the wicked triumph? How long shall they wield unlawful +power? + +"Lord God! Hear us when we pray to Thee; strengthen with Thy might +our most gracious sovereign lord, the Emperor Alexander Pavlovich; +be mindful of his uprightness and meekness, reward him according to +his righteousness, and let it preserve us, Thy chosen Israel! Bless +his counsels, his undertakings, and his work; strengthen his kingdom +by Thine almighty hand, and give him victory over his enemy, even as +Thou gavest Moses the victory over Amalek, Gideon over Midian, and +David over Goliath. Preserve his army, put a bow of brass in the hands +of those who have armed themselves in Thy Name, and gird their loins +with strength for the fight. Take up the spear and shield and arise to +help us; confound and put to shame those who have devised evil against +us, may they be before the faces of Thy faithful warriors as dust +before the wind, and may Thy mighty Angel confound them and put them +to flight; may they be ensnared when they know it not, and may the +plots they have laid in secret be turned against them; let them fall +before Thy servants' feet and be laid low by our hosts! Lord, Thou art +able to save both great and small; Thou art God, and man cannot +prevail against Thee! + +"God of our fathers! Remember Thy bounteous mercy and +loving-kindness which are from of old; turn not Thy face from us, +but be gracious to our unworthiness, and in Thy great goodness and Thy +many mercies regard not our transgressions and iniquities! Create in +us a clean heart and renew a right spirit within us, strengthen us all +in Thy faith, fortify our hope, inspire us with true love one for +another, arm us with unity of spirit in the righteous defense of the +heritage Thou gavest to us and to our fathers, and let not the scepter +of the wicked be exalted against the destiny of those Thou hast +sanctified. + +"O Lord our God, in whom we believe and in whom we put our trust, +let us not be confounded in our hope of Thy mercy, and give us a token +of Thy blessing, that those who hate us and our Orthodox faith may see +it and be put to shame and perish, and may all the nations know that +Thou art the Lord and we are Thy people. Show Thy mercy upon us this +day, O Lord, and grant us Thy salvation; make the hearts of Thy +servants to rejoice in Thy mercy; smite down our enemies and destroy +them swiftly beneath the feet of Thy faithful servants! For Thou art +the defense, the succor, and the victory of them that put their +trust in Thee, and to Thee be all glory, to Father, Son, and Holy +Ghost, now and forever, world without end. Amen." + +In Natasha's receptive condition of soul this prayer affected her +strongly. She listened to every word about the victory of Moses over +Amalek, of Gideon over Midian, and of David over Goliath, and about +the destruction of "Thy Jerusalem," and she prayed to God with the +tenderness and emotion with which her heart was overflowing, but +without fully understanding what she was asking of God in that prayer. +She shared with all her heart in the prayer for the spirit of +righteousness, for the strengthening of the heart by faith and hope, +and its animation by love. But she could not pray that her enemies +might be trampled under foot when but a few minutes before she had +been wishing she had more of them that she might pray for them. But +neither could she doubt the righteousness of the prayer that was being +read on bended knees. She felt in her heart a devout and tremulous awe +at the thought of the punishment that overtakes men for their sins, +and especially of her own sins, and she prayed to God to forgive +them all, and her too, and to give them all, and her too, peace and +happiness. And it seemed to her that God heard her prayer. + +CHAPTER XIX + +From the day when Pierre, after leaving the Rostovs' with +Natasha's grateful look fresh in his mind, had gazed at the comet that +seemed to be fixed in the sky and felt that something new was +appearing on his own horizon- from that day the problem of the +vanity and uselessness of all earthly things, that had incessantly +tormented him, no longer presented itself. That terrible question +"Why?" "Wherefore?" which had come to him amid every occupation, was +now replaced, not by another question or by a reply to the former +question, but by her image. When he listened to, or himself took +part in, trivial conversations, when he read or heard of human +baseness or folly, he was not horrified as formerly, and did not ask +himself why men struggled so about these things when all is so +transient and incomprehensible- but he remembered her as he had last +seen her, and all his doubts vanished- not because she had answered +the questions that had haunted him, but because his conception of +her transferred him instantly to another, a brighter, realm of +spiritual activity in which no one could be justified or guilty- a +realm of beauty and love which it was worth living for. Whatever +worldly baseness presented itself to him, he said to himself: + +"Well, supposing N. N. swindled the country and the Tsar, and the +country and the Tsar confer honors upon him, what does that matter? +She smiled at me yesterday and asked me to come again, and I love her, +and no one will ever know it." And his soul felt calm and peaceful. + +Pierre still went into society, drank as much and led the same +idle and dissipated life, because besides the hours he spent at the +Rostovs' there were other hours he had to spend somehow, and the +habits and acquaintances he had made in Moscow formed a current that +bore him along irresistibly. But latterly, when more and more +disquieting reports came from the seat of war and Natasha's health +began to improve and she no longer aroused in him the former feeling +of careful pity, an ever-increasing restlessness, which he could not +explain, took possession of him. He felt that the condition he was +in could not continue long, that a catastrophe was coming which +would change his whole life, and he impatiently sought everywhere +for signs of that approaching catastrophe. One of his brother Masons +had revealed to Pierre the following prophecy concerning Napoleon, +drawn from the Revelation of St. John. + +In chapter 13, verse 18, of the Apocalypse, it is said: + +Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number +of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six +hundred threescore and six. + +And in the fifth verse of the same chapter: + +And there was given unto him a mouth speaking great things and +blasphemies; and power was given unto him to continue forty and two +months. + +The French alphabet, written out with the same numerical values as +the Hebrew, in which the first nine letters denote units and the +others tens, will have the following significance: + + a b c d e f g h i k + 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 + l m n o p q r s + 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 + t u v w x y + 100 110 120 130 140 150 + z + 160 + +Writing the words L'Empereur Napoleon in numbers, it appears that +the sum of them is 666, and that Napoleon therefore the beast foretold +in the Apocalypse. Moreover, by applying the same system to the +words quarante-deux,~^ which was the term allowed to the beast that +"spoke great things and blasphemies," the same number 666 was +obtained; from which it followed that the limit fixed for Napoleon's +power had come in the year 1812 when the French emperor was forty-two. +This prophecy pleased Pierre very much and he often asked himself what +would put an end to the power of the beast, that is, of Napoleon, +and tried by the same system of using letters as numbers and adding +them up, to find an answer to the question that engrossed him. He +wrote the words L'Empereur Alexandre, La nation russe and added up +their numbers, but the sums were either more or less than 666. Once +when making such calculations he wrote down his own name in French, +Comte Pierre Besouhoff, but the sum of the numbers did not come right. +Then he changed the spelling, substituting a z for the s and adding de +and the article le, still without obtaining the desired result. Then +it occurred to him: if the answer to the question were contained in +his name, his nationality would also be given in the answer. So he +wrote Le russe Besuhof and adding up the numbers got 671. This was +only five too much, and five was represented by e, the very letter +elided from the article le before the word Empereur. By omitting the +e, though incorrectly, Pierre got the answer he sought. L'russe +Besuhof made 666. This discovery excited him. How, or by what means, +he was connected with the great event foretold in the Apocalypse he +did not know, but he did not doubt that connection for a moment. His +love for Natasha, Antichrist, Napoleon, the invasion, the comet, +666, L'Empereur Napoleon, and L'russe Besuhof- all this had to +mature and culminate, to lift him out of that spellbound, petty sphere +of Moscow habits in which he felt himself held captive and lead him to +a great achievement and great happiness. + +^~ Forty-two. + +On the eve of the Sunday when the special prayer was read, Pierre +had promised the Rostovs to bring them, from Count Rostopchin whom +he knew well, both the appeal to the people and the news from the +army. In the morning, when he went to call at Rostopchin's he met +there a courier fresh from the army, an acquaintance of his own, who +often danced at Moscow balls. + +"Do, please, for heaven's sake, relieve me of something!" said the +courier. "I have a sackful of letters to parents." + +Among these letters was one from Nicholas Rostov to his father. +Pierre took that letter, and Rostopchin also gave him the Emperor's +appeal to Moscow, which had just been printed, the last army orders, +and his own most recent bulletin. Glancing through the army orders, +Pierre found in one of them, in the lists of killed, wounded, and +rewarded, the name of Nicholas Rostov, awarded a St. George's Cross of +the Fourth Class for courage shown in the Ostrovna affair, and in +the same order the name of Prince Andrew Bolkonski, appointed to the +command of a regiment of Chasseurs. Though he did not want to remind +the Rostovs of Bolkonski, Pierre could not refrain from making them +happy by the news of their son's having received a decoration, so he +sent that printed army order and Nicholas' letter to the Rostovs, +keeping the appeal, the bulletin, and the other orders to take with +him when he went to dinner. + +His conversation with Count Rostopchin and the latter's tone of +anxious hurry, the meeting with the courier who talked casually of how +badly things were going in the army, the rumors of the discovery of +spies in Moscow and of a leaflet in circulation stating that +Napoleon promised to be in both the Russian capitals by the autumn, +and the talk of the Emperor's being expected to arrive next day- all +aroused with fresh force that feeling of agitation and expectation +in Pierre which he had been conscious of ever since the appearance +of the comet, and especially since the beginning of the war. + +He had long been thinking of entering the army and would have done +so had he not been hindered, first, by his membership of the Society +of Freemasons to which he was bound by oath and which preached +perpetual peace and the abolition of war, and secondly, by the fact +that when he saw the great mass of Muscovites who had donned uniform +and were talking patriotism, he somehow felt ashamed to take the step. +But the chief reason for not carrying out his intention to enter the +army lay in the vague idea that he was L'russe Besuhof who had the +number of the beast, 666; that his part in the great affair of setting +a limit to the power of the beast that spoke great and blasphemous +things had been predestined from eternity, and that therefore he ought +not to undertake anything, but wait for what was bound to come to +pass. + +CHAPTER XX + +A few intimate friends were dining with the Rostovs that day, as +usual on Sundays. + +Pierre came early so as to find them alone. + +He had grown so stout this year that he would have been abnormal had +he not been so tall, so broad of limb, and so strong that he carried +his bulk with evident ease. + +He went up the stairs, puffing and muttering something. His coachman +did not even ask whether he was to wait. He knew that when his +master was at the Rostovs' he stayed till midnight. The Rostovs' +footman rushed eagerly forward to help him off with his cloak and take +his hat and stick. Pierre, from club habit, always left both hat and +stick in the anteroom. + +The first person he saw in the house was Natasha. Even before he saw +her, while taking off his cloak, he heard her. She was practicing +solfa exercises in the music room. He knew that she had not sung since +her illness, and so the sound of her voice surprised and delighted +him. He opened the door softly and saw her, in the lilac dress she had +worn at church, walking about the room singing. She had her back to +him when he opened the door, but when, turning quickly, she saw his +broad, surprised face, she blushed and came rapidly up to him. + +"I want to try to sing again," she said, adding as if by way of +excuse, "it is, at least, something to do." + +"That's capital!" + +"How glad I am you've come! I am so happy today," she said, with the +old animation Pierre had not seen in her for along time. "You know +Nicholas has received a St. George's Cross? I am so proud of him." + +"Oh yes, I sent that announcement. But I don't want to interrupt +you," he added, and was about to go to the drawing room. + +Natasha stopped him. + +"Count, is it wrong of me to sing?" she said blushing, and fixing +her eyes inquiringly on him. + +"No... Why should it be? On the contrary... But why do you ask me?" + +"I don't know myself," Natasha answered quickly, "but I should not +like to do anything you disapproved of. I believe in you completely. +You don't know how important you are to me, how much you've done for +me...." She spoke rapidly and did not notice how Pierre flushed at her +words. "I saw in that same army order that he, Bolkonski" (she +whispered the name hastily), "is in Russia, and in the army again. +What do you think?"- she was speaking hurriedly, evidently afraid +her strength might fail her- "Will he ever forgive me? Will he not +always have a bitter feeling toward me? What do you think? What do you +think?" + +"I think..." Pierre replied, "that he has nothing to forgive.... +If I were in his place..." + +By association of ideas, Pierre was at once carried back to the +day when, trying to comfort her, he had said that if he were not +himself but the best man in the world and free, he would ask on his +knees for her hand; and the same feeling of pity, tenderness, and love +took possession of him and the same words rose to his lips. But she +did not give him time to say them. + +"Yes, you... you..." she said, uttering the word you rapturously- +"that's a different thing. I know no one kinder, more generous, or +better than you; nobody could be! Had you not been there then, and now +too, I don't know what would have become of me, because..." + +Tears suddenly rose in her eyes, she turned away, lifted her music +before her eyes, began singing again, and again began walking up and +down the room. + +Just then Petya came running in from the drawing room. + +Petya was now a handsome rosy lad of fifteen with full red lips +and resembled Natasha. He was preparing to enter the university, but +he and his friend Obolenski had lately, in secret, agreed to join +the hussars. + +Petya had come rushing out to talk to his namesake about this +affair. He had asked Pierre to find out whether he would be accepted +in the hussars. + +Pierre walked up and down the drawing room, not listening to what +Petya was saying. + +Petya pulled him by the arm to attract his attention. + +"Well, what about my plan? Peter Kirilych, for heaven's sake! You +are my only hope " said Petya. + +"Oh yes, your plan. To join the hussars? I'll mention it, I'll bring +it all up today." + +"Well, mon cher, have you got the manifesto?" asked the old count. +"The countess has been to Mass at the Razumovskis' and heard the new +prayer. She says it's very fine." + +"Yes, I've got it," said Pierre. "The Emperor is to be here +tomorrow... there's to be an Extraordinary Meeting of the nobility, +and they are talking of a levy of ten men per thousand. Oh yes, let me +congratulate you!" + +"Yes, yes, thank God! Well, and what news from the army?" + +"We are again retreating. They say we're already near Smolensk," +replied Pierre. + +"O Lord, O Lord!" exclaimed the count. "Where is the manifesto?" + +"The Emperor's appeal? Oh yes!" + +Pierre began feeling in his pockets for the papers, but could not +find them. Still slapping his pockets, he kissed the hand of the +countess who entered the room and glanced uneasily around, evidently +expecting Natasha, who had left off singing but had not yet come +into the drawing room. + +"On my word, I don't know what I've done with it," he said. + +"There he is, always losing everything!" remarked the countess. + +Natasha entered with a softened and agitated expression of face +and sat down looking silently at Pierre. As soon as she entered, +Pierre's features, which had been gloomy, suddenly lighted up, and +while still searching for the papers he glanced at her several times. + +"No, really! I'll drive home, I must have left them there. I'll +certainly..." + +"But you'll be late for dinner." + +"Oh! And my coachman has gone." + +But Sonya, who had gone to look for the papers in the anteroom, +had found them in Pierre's hat, where he had carefully tucked them +under the lining. Pierre was about to begin reading. + +"No, after dinner," said the old count, evidently expecting much +enjoyment from that reading. + +At dinner, at which champagne was drunk to the health of the new +chevalier of St. George, Shinshin told them the town news, of the +illness of the old Georgian princess, of Metivier's disappearance from +Moscow, and of how some German fellow had been brought to Rostopchin +and accused of being a French "spyer" (so Count Rostopchin had told +the story), and how Rostopchin let him go and assured the people +that he was "not a spire at all, but only an old German ruin." + +"People are being arrested..." said the count. "I've told the +countess she should not speak French so much. It's not the time for it +now." + +"And have you heard?" Shinshin asked. "Prince Golitsyn has engaged a +master to teach him Russian. It is becoming dangerous to speak +French in the streets." + +"And how about you, Count Peter Kirilych? If they call up the +militia, you too will have to mount a horse," remarked the old +count, addressing Pierre. + +Pierre had been silent and preoccupied all through dinner, seeming +not to grasp what was said. He looked at the count. + +"Oh yes, the war," he said. "No! What sort of warrior should I make? +And yet everything is so strange, so strange! I can't make it out. I +don't know, I am very far from having military tastes, but in these +times no one can answer for himself." + +After dinner the count settled himself comfortably in an easy +chair and with a serious face asked Sonya, who was considered an +excellent reader, to read the appeal. + +"To Moscow, our ancient Capital! + +"The enemy has entered the borders of Russia with immense forces. He +comes to despoil our beloved country," + +Sonya read painstakingly in her high-pitched voice. The count +listened with closed eyes, heaving abrupt sighs at certain passages. + +Natasha sat erect, gazing with a searching look now at her father +and now at Pierre. + +Pierre felt her eyes on him and tried not to look round. The +countess shook her head disapprovingly and angrily at every solemn +expression in the manifesto. In all these words she saw only that +the danger threatening her son would not soon be over. Shinshin, +with a sarcastic smile on his lips, was evidently preparing to make +fun of anything that gave him the opportunity: Sonya's reading, any +remark of the count's, or even the manifesto itself should no better +pretext present itself. + +After reading about the dangers that threatened Russia, the hopes +the Emperor placed on Moscow and especially on its illustrious +nobility, Sonya, with a quiver in her voice due chiefly to the +attention that was being paid to her, read the last words: + +"We ourselves will not delay to appear among our people in that +Capital and in others parts of our realm for consultation, and for the +direction of all our levies, both those now barring the enemy's path +and those freshly formed to defeat him wherever he may appear. May the +ruin he hopes to bring upon us recoil on his own head, and may +Europe delivered from bondage glorify the name of Russia!" + +"Yes, that's it!" cried the count, opening his moist eyes and +sniffing repeatedly, as if a strong vinaigrette had been held to his +nose; and he added, "Let the Emperor but say the word and we'll +sacrifice everything and begrudge nothing." + +Before Shinshin had time to utter the joke he was ready to make on +the count's patriotism, Natasha jumped up from her place and ran to +her father. + +"What a darling our Papa is!" she cried, kissing him, and she +again looked at Pierre with the unconscious coquetry that had returned +to her with her better spirits. + +"There! Here's a patriot for you!" said Shinshin. + +"Not a patriot at all, but simply..." Natasha replied in an +injured tone. "Everything seems funny to you, but this isn't at all +a joke...." + +"A joke indeed!" put in the count. "Let him but say the word and +we'll all go.... We're not Germans!" + +"But did you notice, it says, 'for consultation'?" said Pierre. + +"Never mind what it's for...." + +At this moment, Petya, to whom nobody was paying any attention, came +up to his father with a very flushed face and said in his breaking +voice that was now deep and now shrill: + +"Well, Papa, I tell you definitely, and Mamma too, it's as you +please, but I say definitely that you must let me enter the army, +because I can't... that's all...." + +The countess, in dismay, looked up to heaven, clasped her hands, and +turned angrily to her husband. + +"That comes of your talking!" said she. + +But the count had already recovered from his excitement. + +"Come, come!" said he. "Here's a fine warrior! No! Nonsense! You +must study." + +"It's not nonsense, Papa. Fedya Obolenski is younger than I, and +he's going too. Besides, all the same I can't study now when..." Petya +stopped short, flushed till he perspired, but still got out the words, +"when our Fatherland is in danger." + +"That'll do, that'll do- nonsense...." + +"But you said yourself that we would sacrifice everything." + +"Petya! Be quiet, I tell you!" cried the count, with a glance at his +wife, who had turned pale and was staring fixedly at her son. + +"And I tell you- Peter Kirilych here will also tell you..." + +"Nonsense, I tell you. Your mother's milk has hardly dried on your +lips and you want to go into the army! There, there, I tell you," +and the count moved to go out of the room, taking the papers, probably +to reread them in his study before having a nap. + +"Well, Peter Kirilych, let's go and have a smoke," he said. + +Pierre was agitated and undecided. Natasha's unwontedly brilliant +eyes, continually glancing at him with a more than cordial look, had +reduced him to this condition. + +"No, I think I'll go home." + +"Home? Why, you meant to spend the evening with us.... You don't +often come nowadays as it is, and this girl of mine," said the count +good-naturedly, pointing to Natasha, "only brightens up when you're +here." + +"Yes, I had forgotten... I really must go home... business..." +said Pierre hurriedly. + +"Well, then, au revoir!" said the count, and went out of the room. + +"Why are you going? Why are you upset?" asked Natasha, and she +looked challengingly into Pierre's eyes. + +"Because I love you!" was what he wanted to say, but he did not +say it, and only blushed till the tears came, and lowered his eyes. + +"Because it is better for me to come less often... because... No, +simply I have business...." + +"Why? No, tell me!" Natasha began resolutely and suddenly stopped. + +They looked at each other with dismayed and embarrassed faces. He +tried to smile but could not: his smile expressed suffering, and he +silently kissed her hand and went out. + +Pierre made up his mind not to go to the Rostovs' any more. + +CHAPTER XXI + +After the definite refusal he had received, Petya went to his room +and there locked himself in and wept bitterly. When he came in to tea, +silent, morose, and with tear-stained face, everybody pretended not to +notice anything. + +Next day the Emperor arrived in Moscow, and several of the +Rostovs' domestic serfs begged permission to go to have a look at him. +That morning Petya was a long time dressing and arranging his hair and +collar to look like a grown-up man. He frowned before his looking +glass, gesticulated, shrugged his shoulders, and finally, without +saying a word to anyone, took his cap and left the house by the back +door, trying to avoid notice. Petya decided to go straight to where +the Emperor was and to explain frankly to some gentleman-in-waiting +(he imagined the Emperor to be always surrounded by +gentlemen-in-waiting) that he, Count Rostov, in spite of his youth +wished to serve his country; that youth could be no hindrance to +loyalty, and that he was ready to... While dressing, Petya had +prepared many fine things he meant to say to the gentleman-in-waiting. + +It was on the very fact of being so young that Petya counted for +success in reaching the Emperor- he even thought how surprised +everyone would be at his youthfulness- and yet in the arrangement of +his collar and hair and by his sedate deliberate walk he wished to +appear a grown-up man. But the farther he went and the more his +attention was diverted by the ever-increasing crowds moving toward the +Kremlin, the less he remembered to walk with the sedateness and +deliberation of a man. As he approached the Kremlin he even began to +avoid being crushed and resolutely stuck out his elbows in a +menacing way. But within the Trinity Gateway he was so pressed to +the wall by people who probably were unaware of the patriotic +intentions with which he had come that in spite of all his +determination he had to give in, and stop while carriages passed in, +rumbling beneath the archway. Beside Petya stood a peasant woman, a +footman, two tradesmen, and a discharged soldier. After standing +some time in the gateway, Petya tried to move forward in front of +the others without waiting for all the carriages to pass, and he began +resolutely working his way with his elbows, but the woman just in +front of him, who was the first against whom he directed his +efforts, angrily shouted at him: + +"What are you shoving for, young lordling? Don't you see we're all +standing still? Then why push?" + +"Anybody can shove," said the footman, and also began working his +elbows to such effect that he pushed Petya into a very filthy corner +of the gateway. + +Petya wiped his perspiring face with his hands and pulled up the +damp collar which he had arranged so well at home to seem like a +man's. + +He felt that he no longer looked presentable, and feared that if +he were now to approach the gentlemen-in-waiting in that plight he +would not be admitted to the Emperor. But it was impossible to smarten +oneself up or move to another place, because of the crowd. One of +the generals who drove past was an acquaintance of the Rostovs', and +Petya thought of asking his help, but came to the conclusion that that +would not be a manly thing to do. When the carriages had all passed +in, the crowd, carrying Petya with it, streamed forward into the +Kremlin Square which was already full of people. There were people not +only in the square, but everywhere- on the slopes and on the roofs. As +soon as Petya found himself in the square he clearly heard the sound +of bells and the joyous voices of the crowd that filled the whole +Kremlin. + +For a while the crowd was less dense, but suddenly all heads were +bared, and everyone rushed forward in one direction. Petya was being +pressed so that he could scarcely breathe, and everybody shouted, +"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" Petya stood on tiptoe and pushed and +pinched, but could see nothing except the people about him. + +All the faces bore the same expression of excitement and enthusiasm. +A tradesman's wife standing beside Petya sobbed, and the tears ran +down her cheeks. + +"Father! Angel! Dear one!" she kept repeating, wiping away her tears +with her fingers. + +"Hurrah!" was heard on all sides. + +For a moment the crowd stood still, but then it made another rush +forward. + +Quite beside himself, Petya, clinching his teeth and rolling his +eyes ferociously, pushed forward, elbowing his way and shouting +"hurrah!" as if he were prepared that instant to kill himself and +everyone else, but on both sides of him other people with similarly +ferocious faces pushed forward and everybody shouted "hurrah!" + +"So this is what the Emperor is!" thought Petya. "No, I can't +petition him myself- that would be too bold." But in spite of this +he continued to struggle desperately forward, and from between the +backs of those in front he caught glimpses of an open space with a +strip of red cloth spread out on it; but just then the crowd swayed +back- the police in front were pushing back those who had pressed +too close to the procession: the Emperor was passing from the palace +to the Cathedral of the Assumption- and Petya unexpectedly received +such a blow on his side and ribs and was squeezed so hard that +suddenly everything grew dim before his eyes and he lost +consciousness. When he came to himself, a man of clerical appearance +with a tuft of gray hair at the back of his head and wearing a +shabby blue cassock- probably a church clerk and chanter- was +holding him under the arm with one hand while warding off the pressure +of the crowd with the other. + +"You've crushed the young gentleman!" said the clerk. "What are +you up to? Gently!... They've crushed him, crushed him!" + +The Emperor entered the Cathedral of the Assumption. The crowd +spread out again more evenly, and the clerk led Petya- pale and +breathless- to the Tsar-cannon. Several people were sorry for Petya, +and suddenly a crowd turned toward him and pressed round him. Those +who stood nearest him attended to him, unbuttoned his coat, seated him +on the raised platform of the cannon, and reproached those others +(whoever they might be) who had crushed him. + +"One might easily get killed that way! What do they mean by it? +Killing people! Poor dear, he's as white as a sheet!"- various +voices were heard saying. + +Petya soon came to himself, the color returned to his face, the pain +had passed, and at the cost of that temporary unpleasantness he had +obtained a place by the cannon from where he hoped to see the +Emperor who would be returning that way. Petya no longer thought of +presenting his petition. If he could only see the Emperor he would +be happy! + +While the service was proceeding in the Cathedral of the Assumption- +it was a combined service of prayer on the occasion of the Emperor's +arrival and of thanksgiving for the conclusion of peace with the +Turks- the crowd outside spread out and hawkers appeared, selling +kvas, gingerbread, and poppyseed sweets (of which Petya was +particularly fond), and ordinary conversation could again be heard. +A tradesman's wife was showing a rent in her shawl and telling how +much the shawl had cost; another was saying that all silk goods had +now got dear. The clerk who had rescued Petya was talking to a +functionary about the priests who were officiating that day with the +bishop. The clerk several times used the word "plenary" (of the +service), a word Petya did not understand. Two young citizens were +joking with some serf girls who were cracking nuts. All these +conversations, especially the joking with the girls, were such as +might have had a particular charm for Petya at his age, but they did +not interest him now. He sat on his elevation- the pedestal of the +cannon- still agitated as before by the thought of the Emperor and +by his love for him. The feeling of pain and fear he had experienced +when he was being crushed, together with that of rapture, still +further intensified his sense of the importance of the occasion. + +Suddenly the sound of a firing of cannon was heard from the +embankment, to celebrate the signing of peace with the Turks, and +the crowd rushed impetuously toward the embankment to watch the +firing. Petya too would have run there, but the clerk who had taken +the young gentleman under his protection stopped him. The firing was +still proceeding when officers, generals, and gentlemen-in-waiting +came running out of the cathedral, and after them others in a more +leisurely manner: caps were again raised, and those who had run to +look at the cannon ran back again. At last four men in uniforms and +sashes emerged from the cathedral doors. "Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted the +crowd again. + +"Which is he? Which?" asked Petya in a tearful voice, of those +around him, but no one answered him, everybody was too excited; and +Petya, fixing on one of those four men, whom he could not clearly +see for the tears of joy that filled his eyes, concentrated all his +enthusiasm on him- though it happened not to be the Emperor- +frantically shouted "Hurrah!" and resolved that tomorrow, come what +might, he would join the army. + +The crowd ran after the Emperor, followed him to the palace, and +began to disperse. It was already late, and Petya had not eaten +anything and was drenched with perspiration, yet he did not go home +but stood with that diminishing, but still considerable, crowd +before the palace while the Emperor dined- looking in at the palace +windows, expecting he knew not what, and envying alike the notables he +saw arriving at the entrance to dine with the Emperor and the court +footmen who served at table, glimpses of whom could be seen through +the windows. + +While the Emperor was dining, Valuev, looking out of the window, +said: + +"The people are still hoping to see Your Majesty again." + +The dinner was nearly over, and the Emperor, munching a biscuit, +rose and went out onto the balcony. The people, with Petya among them, +rushed toward the balcony. + +"Angel! Dear one! Hurrah! Father!..." cried the crowd, and Petya +with it, and again the women and men of weaker mold, Petya among them, +wept with joy. + +A largish piece of the biscuit the Emperor was holding in his hand +broke off, fell on the balcony parapet, and then to the ground. A +coachman in a jerkin, who stood nearest, sprang forward and snatched +it up. Several people in the crowd rushed at the coachman. Seeing this +the Emperor had a plateful of biscuits brought him and began +throwing them down from the balcony. Petya's eyes grew bloodshot, +and still more excited by the danger of being crushed, he rushed at +the biscuits. He did not know why, but he had to have a biscuit from +the Tsar's hand and he felt that he must not give way. He sprang +forward and upset an old woman who was catching at a biscuit; the +old woman did not consider herself defeated though she was lying on +the ground- she grabbed at some biscuits but her hand did not reach +them. Petya pushed her hand away with his knee, seized a biscuit, +and as if fearing to be too late, again shouted "Hurrah!" with a voice +already hoarse. + +The Emperor went in, and after that the greater part of the crowd +began to disperse. + +"There! I said if only we waited- and so it was!" was being joyfully +said by various people. + +Happy as Petya was, he felt sad at having to go home knowing that +all the enjoyment of that day was over. He did not go straight home +from the Kremlin, but called on his friend Obolenski, who was +fifteen and was also entering the regiment. On returning home Petya +announced resolutely and firmly that if he was not allowed to enter +the service he would run away. And next day, Count Ilya Rostov- though +he had not yet quite yielded- went to inquire how he could arrange for +Petya to serve where there would be least danger. + +CHAPTER XXII + +Two days later, on the fifteenth of July, an immense number of +carriages were standing outside the Sloboda Palace. + +The great halls were full. In the first were the nobility and gentry +in their uniforms, in the second bearded merchants in full-skirted +coats of blue cloth and wearing medals. in the noblemen's hall there +was an incessant movement and buzz of voices. The chief magnates sat +on high-backed chairs at a large table under the portrait of the +Emperor, but most of the gentry were strolling about the room. + +All these nobles, whom Pierre met every day at the Club or in +their own houses, were in uniform- some in that of Catherine's day, +others in that of Emperor Paul, others again in the new uniforms of +Alexander's time or the ordinary uniform of the nobility, and the +general characteristic of being in uniform imparted something +strange and fantastic to these diverse and familiar personalities, +both old and young. The old men, dim-eyed, toothless, bald, sallow, +and bloated, or gaunt and wrinkled, were especially striking. For +the most part they sat quietly in their places and were silent, or, if +they walked about and talked, attached themselves to someone +younger. On all these faces, as on the faces of the crowd Petya had +seen in the Square, there was a striking contradiction: the general +expectation of a solemn event, and at the same time the everyday +interests in a boston card party, Peter the cook, Zinaida Dmitrievna's +health, and so on. + +Pierre was there too, buttoned up since early morning in a +nobleman's uniform that had become too tight for him. He was agitated; +this extraordinary gathering not only of nobles but also of the +merchant-class- les etats generaux (States-General)- evoked in him a +whole series of ideas he had long laid aside but which were deeply +graven in his soul: thoughts of the Contrat social and the French +Revolution. The words that had struck him in the Emperor's appeal- +that the sovereign was coming to the capital for consultation with his +people- strengthened this idea. And imagining that in this direction +something important which he had long awaited was drawing near, he +strolled about watching and listening to conversations, but nowhere +finding any confirmation of the ideas that occupied him. + +The Emperor's manifesto was read, evoking enthusiasm, and then all +moved about discussing it. Besides the ordinary topics of +conversation, Pierre heard questions of where the marshals of the +nobility were to stand when the Emperor entered, when a ball should be +given in the Emperor's honor, whether they should group themselves +by districts or by whole provinces... and so on; but as soon as the +war was touched on, or what the nobility had been convened for, the +talk became undecided and indefinite. Then all preferred listening +to speaking. + +A middle-aged man, handsome and virile, in the uniform of a +retired naval officer, was speaking in one of the rooms, and a small +crowd was pressing round him. Pierre went up to the circle that had +formed round the speaker and listened. Count Ilya Rostov, in a +military uniform of Catherine's time, was sauntering with a pleasant +smile among the crowd, with all of whom he was acquainted. He too +approached that group and listened with a kindly smile and nods of +approval, as he always did, to what the speaker was saying. The +retired naval man was speaking very boldly, as was evident from the +expression on the faces of the listeners and from the fact that some +people Pierre knew as the meekest and quietest of men walked away +disapprovingly or expressed disagreement with him. Pierre pushed his +way into the middle of the group, listened, and convinced himself that +the man was indeed a liberal, but of views quite different from his +own. The naval officer spoke in a particularly sonorous, musical, +and aristocratic baritone voice, pleasantly swallowing his r's and +generally slurring his consonants: the voice of a man calling out to +his servant, "Heah! Bwing me my pipe!" It was indicative of +dissipation and the exercise of authority. + +"What if the Smolensk people have offahd to waise militia for the +Empewah? Ah we to take Smolensk as our patte'n? If the noble +awistocwacy of the pwovince of Moscow thinks fit, it can show its +loyalty to our sov'weign the Empewah in other ways. Have we +fo'gotten the waising of the militia in the yeah 'seven? All that +did was to enwich the pwiests' sons and thieves and wobbahs...." + +Count Ilya Rostov smiled blandly and nodded approval. + +"And was our militia of any use to the Empia? Not at all! It only +wuined our farming! Bettah have another conscwiption... o' ou' men +will wetu'n neithah soldiers no' peasants, and we'll get only +depwavity fwom them. The nobility don't gwudge theah lives- evewy +one of us will go and bwing in more wecwuits, and the sov'weign" (that +was the way he referred to the Emperor) "need only say the word and +we'll all die fo' him!" added the orator with animation. + +Count Rostov's mouth watered with pleasure and he nudged Pierre, but +Pierre wanted to speak himself. He pushed forward, feeling stirred, +but not yet sure what stirred him or what he would say. Scarcely had +he opened his mouth when one of the senators, a man without a tooth in +his head, with a shrewd though angry expression, standing near the +first speaker, interrupted him. Evidently accustomed to managing +debates and to maintaining an argument, he began in low but distinct +tones: + +"I imagine, sir," said he, mumbling with his toothless mouth, +"that we have been summoned here not to discuss whether it's best +for the empire at the present moment to adopt conscription or to +call out the militia. We have been summoned to reply to the appeal +with which our sovereign the Emperor has honored us. But to judge what +is best- conscription or the militia- we can leave to the supreme +authority...." + +Pierre suddenly saw an outlet for his excitement. He hardened his +heart against the senator who was introducing this set and narrow +attitude into the deliberations of the nobility. Pierre stepped +forward and interrupted him. He himself did not yet know what he would +say, but he began to speak eagerly, occasionally lapsing into French +or expressing himself in bookish Russian. + +"Excuse me, your excellency," he began. (He was well acquainted with +the senator, but thought it necessary on this occasion to address +him formally.) "Though I don't agree with the gentleman..." (he +hesitated: he wished to say, "Mon tres honorable preopinant"- "My very +honorable opponent") "with the gentleman... whom I have not the +honor of knowing, I suppose that the nobility have been summoned not +merely to express their sympathy and enthusiasm but also to consider +the means by which we can assist our Fatherland! I imagine," he went +on, warming to his subject, "that the Emperor himself would not be +satisfied to find in us merely owners of serfs whom we are willing +to devote to his service, and chair a canon~^ we are ready to make of +ourselves- and not to obtain from us any co-co-counsel." + +^~ "Food for cannon." + +Many persons withdrew from the circle, noticing the senator's +sarcastic smile and the freedom of Pierre's remarks. Only Count Rostov +was pleased with them as he had been pleased with those of the naval +officer, the senator, and in general with whatever speech he had +last heard. + +"I think that before discussing these questions," Pierre +continued, "we should ask the Emperor- most respectfully ask His +Majesty- to let us know the number of our troops and the position in +which our army and our forces now are, and then..." + +But scarcely had Pierre uttered these words before he was attacked +from three sides. The most vigorous attack came from an old +acquaintance, a boston player who had always been well disposed toward +him, Stepan Stepanovich Adraksin. Adraksin was in uniform, and whether +as a result of the uniform or from some other cause Pierre saw +before him quite a different man. With a sudden expression of +malevolence on his aged face, Adraksin shouted at Pierre: + +"In the first place, I tell you we have no right to question the +Emperor about that, and secondly, if the Russian nobility had that +right, the Emperor could not answer such a question. The troops are +moved according to the enemy's movements and the number of men +increases and decreases..." + +Another voice, that of a nobleman of medium height and about forty +years of age, whom Pierre had formerly met at the gypsies' and knew as +a bad cardplayer, and who, also transformed by his uniform, came up to +Pierre, interrupted Adraksin. + +"Yes, and this is not a time for discussing," he continued, "but for +acting: there is war in Russia! The enemy is advancing to destroy +Russia, to desecrate the tombs of our fathers, to carry off our +wives and children." The nobleman smote his breast. "We will all +arise, every one of us will go, for our father the Tsar!" he +shouted, rolling his bloodshot eyes. Several approving voices were +heard in the crowd. "We are Russians and will not grudge our blood +in defense of our faith, the throne, and the Fatherland! We must cease +raving if we are sons of our Fatherland! We will show Europe how +Russia rises to the defense of Russia!" + +Pierre wished to reply, but could not get in a word. He felt that +his words, apart from what meaning they conveyed, were less audible +than the sound of his opponent's voice. + +Count Rostov at the back of the crowd was expressing approval; +several persons, briskly turning a shoulder to the orator at the end +of a phrase, said: + +"That's right, quite right! Just so!" + +Pierre wished to say that he was ready to sacrifice his money, his +serfs, or himself, only one ought to know the state of affairs in +order to be able to improve it, but he was unable to speak. Many +voices shouted and talked at the same time, so that Count Rostov had +not time to signify his approval of them all, and the group increased, +dispersed, re-formed, and then moved with a hum of talk into the +largest hall and to the big table. Not only was Pierre's attempt to +speak unsuccessful, but he was rudely interrupted, pushed aside, and +people turned away from him as from a common enemy. This happened +not because they were displeased by the substance of his speech, which +had even been forgotten after the many subsequent speeches, but to +animate it the crowd needed a tangible object to love and a tangible +object to hate. Pierre became the latter. Many other orators spoke +after the excited nobleman, and all in the same tone. Many spoke +eloquently and with originality. + +Glinka, the editor of the Russian Messenger, who was recognized +(cries of "author! author!" were heard in the crowd), said that +"hell must be repulsed by hell," and that he had seen a child +smiling at lightning flashes and thunderclaps, but "we will not be +that child." + +"Yes, yes, at thunderclaps!" was repeated approvingly in the back +rows of the crowd. + +The crowd drew up to the large table, at which sat gray-haired or +bald seventy-year-old magnates, uniformed and besashed almost all of +whom Pierre had seen in their own homes with their buffoons, or +playing boston at the clubs. With an incessant hum of voices the crowd +advanced to the table. Pressed by the throng against the high backs of +the chairs, the orators spoke one after another and sometimes two +together. Those standing behind noticed what a speaker omitted to +say and hastened to supply it. Others in that heat and crush racked +their brains to find some thought and hastened to utter it. The old +magnates, whom Pierre knew, sat and turned to look first at one and +then at another, and their faces for the most part only expressed +the fact that they found it very hot. Pierre, however, felt excited, +and the general desire to show that they were ready to go to all +lengths- which found expression in the tones and looks more than in +the substance of the speeches- infected him too. He did not renounce +his opinions, but felt himself in some way to blame and wished to +justify himself. + +"I only said that it would be more to the purpose to make sacrifices +when we know what is needed!" said he, trying to be heard above the +other voices. + +One of the old men nearest to him looked round, but his attention +was immediately diverted by an exclamation at the other side of the +table. + +"Yes, Moscow will be surrendered! She will be our expiation!" +shouted one man. + +"He is the enemy of mankind!" cried another. "Allow me to speak...." +"Gentlemen, you are crushing me!..." + +CHAPTER XXIII + +At that moment Count Rostopchin with his protruding chin and alert +eyes, wearing the uniform of a general with sash over his shoulder, +entered the room, stepping briskly to the front of the crowd of +gentry. + +"Our sovereign the Emperor will be here in a moment," said +Rostopchin. "I am straight from the palace. Seeing the position we are +in, I think there is little need for discussion. The Emperor has +deigned to summon us and the merchants. Millions will pour forth +from there"- he pointed to the merchants' hall- "but our business is +to supply men and not spare ourselves... That is the least we can do!" + +A conference took place confined to the magnates sitting at the +table. The whole consultation passed more than quietly. After all +the preceding noise the sound of their old voices saying one after +another, "I agree," or for variety, "I too am of that opinion," and so +on had even a mournful effect. + +The secretary was told to write down the resolution of the Moscow +nobility and gentry, that they would furnish ten men, fully +equipped, out of every thousand serfs, as the Smolensk gentry had +done. Their chairs made a scraping noise as the gentlemen who had +conferred rose with apparent relief, and began walking up and down, +arm in arm, to stretch their legs and converse in couples. + +"The Emperor! The Emperor!" a sudden cry resounded through the halls +and the whole throng hurried to the entrance. + +The Emperor entered the hall through a broad path between two +lines of nobles. Every face expressed respectful, awe-struck +curiosity. Pierre stood rather far off and could not hear all that the +Emperor said. From what he did hear he understood that the Emperor +spoke of the danger threatening the empire and of the hopes he +placed on the Moscow nobility. He was answered by a voice which +informed him of the resolution just arrived at. + +"Gentlemen!" said the Emperor with a quivering voice. + +There was a rustling among the crowd and it again subsided, so +that Pierre distinctly heard the pleasantly human voice of the Emperor +saying with emotion: + +"I never doubted the devotion of the Russian nobles, but today it +has surpassed my expectations. I thank you in the name of the +Fatherland! Gentlemen, let us act! Time is most precious..." + +The Emperor ceased speaking, the crowd began pressing round him, and +rapturous exclamations were heard from all sides. + +"Yes, most precious... a royal word," said Count Rostov, with a sob. +He stood at the back, and, though he had heard hardly anything, +understood everything in his own way. + +From the hall of the nobility the Emperor went to that of the +merchants. There he remained about ten minutes. Pierre was among those +who saw him come out from the merchants' hall with tears of emotion in +his eyes. As became known later, he had scarcely begun to address +the merchants before tears gushed from his eyes and he concluded in +a trembling voice. When Pierre saw the Emperor he was coming out +accompanied by two merchants, one of whom Pierre knew, a fat +otkupshchik. The other was the mayor, a man with a thin sallow face +and narrow beard. Both were weeping. Tears filled the thin man's eyes, +and the fat otkupshchik sobbed outright like a child and kept +repeating: + +"Our lives and property- take them, Your Majesty!" + +Pierre's one feeling at the moment was a desire to show that he +was ready to go all lengths and was prepared to sacrifice +everything. He now felt ashamed of his speech with its +constitutional tendency and sought an opportunity of effacing it. +Having heard that Count Mamonov was furnishing a regiment, Bezukhov at +once informed Rostopchin that he would give a thousand men and their +maintenance. + +Old Rostov could not tell his wife of what had passed without tears, +and at once consented to Petya's request and went himself to enter his +name. + +Next day the Emperor left Moscow. The assembled nobles all took +off their uniforms and settled down again in their homes and clubs, +and not without some groans gave orders to their stewards about the +enrollment, feeling amazed themselves at what they had done. + +BOOK TEN: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +Napoleon began the war with Russia because he could not resist going +to Dresden, could not help having his head turned by the homage he +received, could not help donning a Polish uniform and yielding to +the stimulating influence of a June morning, and could not refrain +from bursts of anger in the presence of Kurakin and then of Balashev. + +Alexander refused negotiations because he felt himself to be +personally insulted. Barclay de Tolly tried to command the army in the +best way, because he wished to fulfill his duty and earn fame as a +great commander. Rostov charged the French because he could not +restrain his wish for a gallop across a level field; and in the same +way the innumerable people who took part in the war acted in accord +with their personal characteristics, habits, circumstances, and +aims. They were moved by fear or vanity, rejoiced or were indignant, +reasoned, imagining that they knew what they were doing and did it +of their own free will, but they all were involuntary tools of +history, carrying on a work concealed from them but comprehensible +to us. Such is the inevitable fate of men of action, and the higher +they stand in the social hierarchy the less are they free. + +The actors of 1812 have long since left the stage, their personal +interests have vanished leaving no trace, and nothing remains of +that time but its historic results. + +Providence compelled all these men, striving to attain personal +aims, to further the accomplishment of a stupendous result no one of +them at all expected- neither Napoleon, nor Alexander, nor still +less any of those who did the actual fighting. + +The cause of the destruction of the French army in 1812 is clear +to us now. No one will deny that that cause was, on the one hand, +its advance into the heart of Russia late in the season without any +preparation for a winter campaign and, on the other, the character +given to the war by the burning of Russian towns and the hatred of the +foe this aroused among the Russian people. But no one at the time +foresaw (what now seems so evident) that this was the only way an army +of eight hundred thousand men- the best in the world and led by the +best general- could be destroyed in conflict with a raw army of half +its numerical strength, and led by inexperienced commanders as the +Russian army was. Not only did no one see this, but on the Russian +side every effort was made to hinder the only thing that could save +Russia, while on the French side, despite Napoleon's experience and +so-called military genius, every effort was directed to pushing on +to Moscow at the end of the summer, that is, to doing the very thing +that was bound to lead to destruction. + +In historical works on the year 1812 French writers are very fond of +saying that Napoleon felt the danger of extending his line, that he +sought a battle and that his marshals advised him to stop at Smolensk, +and of making similar statements to show that the danger of the +campaign was even then understood. Russian authors are still fonder of +telling us that from the commencement of the campaign a Scythian war +plan was adopted to lure Napoleon into the depths of Russia, and +this plan some of them attribute to Pfuel, others to a certain +Frenchman, others to Toll, and others again to Alexander himself- +pointing to notes, projects, and letters which contain hints of such a +line of action. But all these hints at what happened, both from the +French side and the Russian, are advanced only because they fit in +with the event. Had that event not occurred these hints would have +been forgotten, as we have forgotten the thousands and millions of +hints and expectations to the contrary which were current then but +have now been forgotten because the event falsified them. There are +always so many conjectures as to the issue of any event that however +it may end there will always be people to say: "I said then that it +would be so," quite forgetting that amid their innumerable conjectures +many were to quite the contrary effect. + +Conjectures as to Napoleon's awareness of the danger of extending +his line, and (on the Russian side) as to luring the enemy into the +depths of Russia, are evidently of that kind, and only by much +straining can historians attribute such conceptions to Napoleon and +his marshals, or such plans to the Russian commanders. All the facts +are in flat contradiction to such conjectures. During the whole period +of the war not only was there no wish on the Russian side to draw +the French into the heart of the country, but from their first entry +into Russia everything was done to stop them. And not only was +Napoleon not afraid to extend his line, but he welcomed every step +forward as a triumph and did not seek battle as eagerly as in former +campaigns, but very lazily. + +At the very beginning of the war our armies were divided, and our +sole aim was to unite them, though uniting the armies was no advantage +if we meant to retire and lure the enemy into the depths of the +country. Our Emperor joined the army to encourage it to defend every +inch of Russian soil and not to retreat. The enormous Drissa camp +was formed on Pfuel's plan, and there was no intention of retiring +farther. The Emperor reproached the commanders in chief for every step +they retired. He could not bear the idea of letting the enemy even +reach Smolensk, still less could he contemplate the burning of Moscow, +and when our armies did unite he was displeased that Smolensk was +abandoned and burned without a general engagement having been fought +under its walls. + +So thought the Emperor, and the Russian commanders and people were +still more provoked at the thought that our forces were retreating +into the depths of the country. + +Napoleon having cut our armies apart advanced far into the country +and missed several chances of forcing an engagement. In August he +was at Smolensk and thought only of how to advance farther, though +as we now see that advance was evidently ruinous to him. + +The facts clearly show that Napoleon did not foresee the danger of +the advance on Moscow, nor did Alexander and the Russian commanders +then think of luring Napoleon on, but quite the contrary. The luring +of Napoleon into the depths of the country was not the result of any +plan, for no one believed it to be possible; it resulted from a most +complex interplay of intrigues, aims, and wishes among those who +took part in the war and had no perception whatever of the inevitable, +or of the one way of saving Russia. Everything came about +fortuitously. The armies were divided at the commencement of the +campaign. We tried to unite them, with the evident intention of giving +battle and checking the enemy's advance, and by this effort to unite +them while avoiding battle with a much stronger enemy, and necessarily +withdrawing the armies at an acute angle- we led the French on to +Smolensk. But we withdrew at an acute angle not only because the +French advanced between our two armies; the angle became still more +acute and we withdrew still farther, because Barclay de Tolly was an +unpopular foreigner disliked by Bagration (who would come his +command), and Bagration- being in command of the second army- tried to +postpone joining up and coming under Barclay's command as long as he +could. Bagration was slow in effecting the junction- though that was +the chief aim of all at headquarters- because, as he alleged, he +exposed his army to danger on this march, and it was best for him to +retire more to the left and more to the south, worrying the enemy from +flank and rear and securing from the Ukraine recruits for his army; +and it looks as if he planned this in order not to come under the +command of the detested foreigner Barclay, whose rank was inferior +to his own. + +The Emperor was with the army to encourage it, but his presence +and ignorance of what steps to take, and the enormous number of +advisers and plans, destroyed the first army's energy and it retired. + +The intention was to make a stand at the Drissa camp, but +Paulucci, aiming at becoming commander in chief, unexpectedly employed +his energy to influence Alexander, and Pfuel's whole plan was +abandoned and the command entrusted to Barclay. But as Barclay did not +inspire confidence his power was limited. The armies were divided, +there was no unity of command, and Barclay was unpopular; but from +this confusion, division, and the unpopularity of the foreign +commander in chief, there resulted on the one hand indecision and +the avoidance of a battle (which we could not have refrained from +had the armies been united and had someone else, instead of Barclay, +been in command) and on the other an ever-increasing indignation +against the foreigners and an increase in patriotic zeal. + +At last the Emperor left the army, and as the most convenient and +indeed the only pretext for his departure it was decided that it was +necessary for him to inspire the people in the capitals and arouse the +nation in general to a patriotic war. And by this visit of the Emperor +to Moscow the strength of the Russian army was trebled. + +He left in order not to obstruct the commander in chief's +undivided control of the army, and hoping that more decisive action +would then be taken, but the command of the armies became still more +confused and enfeebled. Bennigsen, the Tsarevich, and a swarm of +adjutants general remained with the army to keep the commander in +chief under observation and arouse his energy, and Barclay, feeling +less free than ever under the observation of all these "eyes of the +Emperor," became still more cautious of undertaking any decisive +action and avoided giving battle. + +Barclay stood for caution. The Tsarevich hinted at treachery and +demanded a general engagement. Lubomirski, Bronnitski, Wlocki, and the +others of that group stirred up so much trouble that Barclay, under +pretext of sending papers to the Emperor, dispatched these Polish +adjutants general to Petersburg and plunged into an open struggle with +Bennigsen and the Tsarevich. + +At Smolensk the armies at last reunited, much as Bagration +disliked it. + +Bagration drove up in a carriage to to the house occupied by +Barclay. Barclay donned his sash and came out to meet and report to +his senior officer Bagration. + +Despite his seniority in rank Bagration, in this contest of +magnanimity, took his orders from Barclay, but, having submitted, +agreed with him less than ever. By the Emperor's orders Bagration +reported direct to him. He wrote to Arakcheev, the Emperor's +confidant: "It must be as my sovereign pleases, but I cannot work with +the Minister (meaning Barclay). For God's sake send me somewhere +else if only in command of a regiment. I cannot stand it here. +Headquarters are so full of Germans that a Russian cannot exist and +there is no sense in anything. I thought I was really serving my +sovereign and the Fatherland, but it turns out that I am serving +Barclay. I confess I do not want to." + +The swarm of Bronnitskis and Wintzingerodes and their like still +further embittered the relations between the commanders in chief, +and even less unity resulted. Preparations were made to fight the +French before Smolensk. A general was sent to survey the position. +This general, hating Barclay, rode to visit a friend of his own, a +corps commander, and, having spent the day with him, returned to +Barclay and condemned, as unsuitable from every point of view, the +battleground he had not seen. + +While disputes and intrigues were going on about the future field of +battle, and while we were looking for the French- having lost touch +with them- the French stumbled upon Neverovski's division and +reached the walls of Smolensk. + +It was necessary to fight an unexpected battle at Smolensk to save +our lines of communication. The battle was fought and thousands were +killed on both sides. + +Smolensk was abandoned contrary to the wishes of the Emperor and +of the whole people. But Smolensk was burned by its own +inhabitants-who had been misled by their governor. And these ruined +inhabitants, setting an example to other Russians, went to Moscow +thinking only of their own losses but kindling hatred of the foe. +Napoleon advanced farther and we retired, thus arriving at the very +result which caused his destruction. + +CHAPTER II + +The day after his son had left, Prince Nicholas sent for Princess +Mary to come to his study. + +"Well? Are you satisfied now?" said he. "You've made me quarrel with +my son! Satisfied, are you? That's all you wanted! Satisfied?... It +hurts me, it hurts. I'm old and weak and this is what you wanted. Well +then, gloat over it! Gloat over it!" + +After that Princess Mary did not see her father for a whole week. He +was ill and did not leave his study. + +Princess Mary noticed to her surprise that during this illness the +old prince not only excluded her from his room, but did not admit +Mademoiselle Bourienne either. Tikhon alone attended him. + +At the end of the week the prince reappeared and resumed his +former way of life, devoting himself with special activity to building +operations and the arrangement of the gardens and completely +breaking off his relations with Mademoiselle Bourienne. His looks +and cold tone to his daughter seemed to say: "There, you see? You +plotted against me, you lied to Prince Andrew about my relations +with that Frenchwoman and made me quarrel with him, but you see I need +neither her nor you!" + +Princess Mary spent half of every day with little Nicholas, watching +his lessons, teaching him Russian and music herself, and talking to +Dessalles; the rest of the day she spent over her books, with her +old nurse, or with "God's folk" who sometimes came by the back door to +see her. + +Of the war Princess Mary thought as women do think about wars. She +feared for her brother who was in it, was horrified by and amazed at +the strange cruelty that impels men to kill one another, but she did +not understand the significance of this war, which seemed to her +like all previous wars. She did not realize the significance of this +war, though Dessalles with whom she constantly conversed was +passionately interested in its progress and tried to explain his own +conception of it to her, and though the "God's folk" who came to see +her reported, in their own way, the rumors current among the people of +an invasion by Antichrist, and though Julie (now Princess +Drubetskaya), who had resumed correspondence with her, wrote patriotic +letters from Moscow. + +"I write you in Russian, my good friend," wrote Julie in her +Frenchified Russian, "because I have a detestation for all the French, +and the same for their language which I cannot support to hear +spoken.... We in Moscow are elated by enthusiasm for our adored +Emperor. + +"My poor husband is enduring pains and hunger in Jewish taverns, but +the news which I have inspires me yet more. + +"You heard probably of the heroic exploit of Raevski, embracing +his two sons and saying: 'I will perish with them but we will not be +shaken!' And truly though the enemy was twice stronger than we, we +were unshakable. We pass the time as we can, but in war as in war! The +princesses Aline and Sophie sit whole days with me, and we, unhappy +widows of live men, make beautiful conversations over our charpie, +only you, my friend, are missing..." and so on. + +The chief reason Princess Mary did not realize the full significance +of this war was that the old prince never spoke of it, did not +recognize it, and laughed at Dessalles when he mentioned it at dinner. +The prince's tone was so calm and confident that Princess Mary +unhesitatingly believed him. + +All that July the old prince was exceedingly active and even +animated. He planned another garden and began a new building for the +domestic serfs. The only thing that made Princess Mary anxious about +him was that he slept very little and, instead of sleeping in his +study as usual, changed his sleeping place every day. One day he would +order his camp bed to be set up in the glass gallery, another day he +remained on the couch or on the lounge chair in the drawing room and +dozed there without undressing, while- instead of Mademoiselle +Bourienne- a serf boy read to him. Then again he would spend a night +in the dining room. + +On August 1, a second letter was received from Prince Andrew. In his +first letter which came soon after he had left home, Prince Andrew had +dutifully asked his father's forgiveness for what he had allowed +himself to say and begged to be restored to his favor. To this +letter the old prince had replied affectionately, and from that time +had kept the Frenchwoman at at Prince Andrew's second letter, +written near Vitebsk after the French had occupied that town, gave a +brief account of the whole campaign, enclosed for them a plan he had +drawn and forecasts as to the further progress of the war. In this +letter Prince Andrew pointed out to his father the danger of staying +at Bald Hills, so near the theater of war and on the army's direct +line of march, and advised him to move to Moscow. + +At dinner that day, on Dessalles' mentioning that the French were +said to have already entered Vitebsk, the old prince remembered his +son's letter. + +"There was a letter from Prince Andrew today," he said to Princess +Mary- "Haven't you read it?" + +"No, Father," she replied in a frightened voice. + +She could not have read the letter as she did not even know it had +arrived. + +"He writes about this war," said the prince, with the ironic smile +that had become habitual to him in speaking of the present war. + +"That must be very interesting," said Dessalles. "Prince Andrew is +in a position to know..." + +"Oh, very interesting!" said Mademoiselle Bourienne. + +"Go and get it for me," said the old prince to Mademoiselle +Bourienne. "You know- under the paperweight on the little table." + +Mademoiselle Bourienne jumped up eagerly. + +"No, don't!" he exclaimed with a frown. "You go, Michael Ivanovich." + +Michael Ivanovich rose and went to the study. But as soon as he +had left the room the old prince, looking uneasily round, threw down +his napkin and went himself. + +"They can't do anything... always make some muddle," he muttered. + +While he was away Princess Mary, Dessalles, Mademoiselle +Bourienne, and even little Nicholas exchanged looks in silence. The +old prince returned with quick steps, accompanied by Michael +Ivanovich, bringing the letter and a plan. These he put down beside +him- not letting anyone read them at dinner. + +On moving to the drawing room he handed the letter to Princess +Mary and, spreading out before him the plan of the new building and +fixing his eyes upon it, told her to read the letter aloud. When she +had done so Princess Mary looked inquiringly at her father. He was +examining the plan, evidently engrossed in his own ideas. + +"What do you think of it, Prince?" Dessalles ventured to ask. + +"I? I?..." said the prince as if unpleasantly awakened, and not +taking his eyes from the plan of the building. + +"Very possibly the theater of war will move so near to us that..." + +"Ha ha ha! The theater of war!" said the prince. "I have said and +still say that the theater of war is Poland and the enemy will never +get beyond the Niemen." + +Dessalles looked in amazement at the prince, who was talking of +the Niemen when the enemy was already at the Dnieper, but Princess +Mary, forgetting the geographical position of the Niemen, thought that +what her father was saying was correct. + +"When the snow melts they'll sink in the Polish swamps. Only they +could fail to see it," the prince continued, evidently thinking of the +campaign of 1807 which seemed to him so recent. "Bennigsen should have +advanced into Prussia sooner, then things would have taken a different +turn..." + +"But, Prince," Dessalles began timidly, "the letter mentions +Vitebsk...." + +"Ah, the letter? Yes..." replied the prince peevishly. "Yes... +yes..." His face suddenly took on a morose expression. He paused. +"Yes, he writes that the French were beaten at... at... what river +is it?" + +Dessalles dropped his eyes. + +"The prince says nothing about that," he remarked gently. + +"Doesn't he? But I didn't invent it myself." + +No one spoke for a long time. + +"Yes... yes... Well, Michael Ivanovich," he suddenly went on, +raising his head and pointing to the plan of the building, "tell me +how you mean to alter it...." + +Michael Ivanovich went up to the plan, and the prince after speaking +to him about the building looked angrily at Princess Mary and +Dessalles and went to his own room. + +Princess Mary saw Dessalles' embarrassed and astonished look fixed +on her father, noticed his silence, and was struck by the fact that +her father had forgotten his son's letter on the drawing-room table; +but she was not only afraid to speak of it and ask Dessalles the +reason of his confusion and silence, but was afraid even to think +about it. + +In the evening Michael Ivanovich, sent by the prince, came to +Princess Mary for Prince Andrew's letter which had been forgotten in +the drawing room. She gave it to him and, unpleasant as it was to +her to do so, ventured to ask him what her father was doing. + +"Always busy," replied Michael Ivanovich with a respectfully +ironic smile which caused Princess Mary to turn pale. "He's worrying +very much about the new building. He has been reading a little, but +now"- Michael Ivanovich went on, lowering his voice- "now he's at +his desk, busy with his will, I expect." (One of the prince's favorite +occupations of late had been the preparation of some papers he meant +to leave at his death and which he called his "will.") + +"And Alpatych is being sent to Smolensk?" asked Princess Mary. + +"Oh, yes, he has been waiting to start for some time." + +CHAPTER III + +When Michael Ivanovich returned to the study with the letter, the +old prince, with spectacles on and a shade over his eyes, was +sitting at his open bureau with screened candles, holding a paper in +his outstretched hand, and in a somewhat dramatic attitude was reading +his manuscript- his "Remarks" as he termed it- which was to be +transmitted to the Emperor after his death. + +When Michael Ivanovich went in there were tears in the prince's eyes +evoked by the memory of the time when the paper he was now reading had +been written. He took the letter from Michael Ivanovich's hand, put it +in his pocket, folded up his papers, and called in Alpatych who had +long been waiting. + +The prince had a list of things to be bought in Smolensk and, +walking up and down the room past Alpatych who stood by the door, he +gave his instructions. + +"First, notepaper- do you hear? Eight quires, like this sample, +gilt-edged... it must be exactly like the sample. Varnish, sealing +wax, as in Michael Ivanovich's list." + +He paced up and down for a while and glanced at his notes. + +"Then hand to the governor in person a letter about the deed." + +Next, bolts for the doors of the new building were wanted and had to +be of a special shape the prince had himself designed, and a leather +case had to be ordered to keep the "will" in. + +The instructions to Alpatych took over two hours and still the +prince did not let him go. He sat down, sank into thought, closed +his eyes, and dozed off. Alpatych made a slight movement. + +"Well, go, go! If anything more is wanted I'll send after you." + +Alpatych went out. The prince again went to his bureau, glanced into +it, fingered his papers, closed the bureau again, and sat down at +the table to write to the governor. + +It was already late when he rose after sealing the letter. He wished +to sleep, but he knew he would not be able to and that most depressing +thoughts came to him in bed. So he called Tikhon and went through +the rooms with him to show him where to set up the bed for that night. + +He went about looking at every corner. Every place seemed +unsatisfactory, but worst of all was his customary couch in the study. +That couch was dreadful to him, probably because of the oppressive +thoughts he had had when lying there. It was unsatisfactory +everywhere, but the corner behind the piano in the sitting room was +better than other places: he had never slept there yet. + +With the help of a footman Tikhon brought in the bedstead and +began putting it up. + +"That's not right! That's not right!" cried the prince, and +himself pushed it a few inches from the corner and then closer in +again. + +"Well, at last I've finished, now I'll rest," thought the prince, +and let Tikhon undress him. + +Frowning with vexation at the effort necessary to divest himself +of his coat and trousers, the prince undressed, sat down heavily on +the bed, and appeared to be meditating as he looked contemptuously +at his withered yellow legs. He was not meditating, but only deferring +the moment of making the effort to lift those legs up and turn over on +the bed. "Ugh, how hard it is! Oh, that this toil might end and you +would release me!" thought he. Pressing his lips together he made that +effort for the twenty-thousandth time and lay down. But hardly had +he done so before he felt the bed rocking backwards and forwards +beneath him as if it were breathing heavily and jolting. This happened +to him almost every night. He opened his eyes as they were closing. + +"No peace, damn them!" he muttered, angry he knew not with whom. "Ah +yes, there was something else important, very important, that I was +keeping till I should be in bed. The bolts? No, I told him about them. +No, it was something, something in the drawing room. Princess Mary +talked some nonsense. Dessalles, that fool, said something. +Something in my pocket- can't remember..." + +"Tikhon, what did we talk about at dinner?" + +"About Prince Michael..." + +"Be quiet, quiet!" The prince slapped his hand on the table. "Yes, I +know, Prince Andrew's letter! Princess Mary read it. Dessalles said +something about Vitebsk. Now I'll read it." + +He had the letter taken from his pocket and the table- on which +stood a glass of lemonade and a spiral wax candle- moved close to +the bed, and putting on his spectacles he began reading. Only now in +the stillness of the night, reading it by the faint light under the +green shade, did he grasp its meaning for a moment. + +"The French at Vitebsk, in four days' march they may be at Smolensk; +perhaps are already there! Tikhon!" Tikhon jumped up. "No, no, I don't +want anything!" he shouted. + +He put the letter under the candlestick and closed his eyes. And +there rose before him the Danube at bright noonday: reeds, the Russian +camp, and himself a young general without a wrinkle on his ruddy face, +vigorous and alert, entering Potemkin's gaily colored tent, and a +burning sense of jealousy of "the favorite" agitated him now as +strongly as it had done then. He recalled all the words spoken at that +first meeting with Potemkin. And he saw before him a plump, rather +sallow-faced, short, stout woman, the Empress Mother, with her smile +and her words at her first gracious reception of him, and then that +same face on the catafalque, and the encounter he had with Zubov +over her coffin about his right to kiss her hand. + +"Oh, quicker, quicker! To get back to that time and have done with +all the present! Quicker, quicker- and that they should leave me in +peace!" + +CHAPTER IV + +Bald Hills, Prince Nicholas Bolkonski's estate, lay forty miles east +from Smolensk and two miles from the main road to Moscow. + +The same evening that the prince gave his instructions to +Alpatych, Dessalles, having asked to see Princess Mary, told her that, +as the prince was not very well and was taking no steps to secure +his safety, though from Prince Andrew's letter it was evident that +to remain at Bald Hills might be dangerous, he respectfully advised +her to send a letter by Alpatych to the Provincial Governor at +Smolensk, asking him to let her know the state of affairs and the +extent of the danger to which Bald Hills was exposed. Dessalles +wrote this letter to the Governor for Princess Mary, she signed it, +and it was given to Alpatych with instructions to hand it to the +Governor and to come back as quickly as possible if there was danger. + +Having received all his orders Alpatych, wearing a white beaver hat- +a present from the prince- and carrying a stick as the prince did, +went out accompanied by his family. Three well-fed roans stood ready +harnessed to a small conveyance with a leather hood. + +The larger bell was muffled and the little bells on the harness +stuffed with paper. The prince allowed no one at Bald Hills to drive +with ringing bells; but on a long journey Alpatych liked to have them. +His satellites- the senior clerk, a countinghouse clerk, a scullery +maid, a cook, two old women, a little pageboy, the coachman, and +various domestic serfs- were seeing him off. + +His daughter placed chintz-covered down cushions for him to sit on +and behind his back. His old sister-in-law popped in a small bundle, +and one of the coachmen helped him into the vehicle. + +"There! There! Women's fuss! Women, women!" said Alpatych, puffing +and speaking rapidly just as the prince did, and he climbed into the +trap. + +After giving the clerk orders about the work to be done, Alpatych, +not trying to imitate the prince now, lifted the hat from his bald +head and crossed himself three times. + +"If there is anything... come back, Yakov Alpatych! For Christ's +sake think of us!" cried his wife, referring to the rumors of war +and the enemy. + +"Women, women! Women's fuss!" muttered Alpatych to himself and +started on his journey, looking round at the fields of yellow rye +and the still-green, thickly growing oats, and at other quite black +fields just being plowed a second time. + +As he went along he looked with pleasure at the year's splendid crop +of corn, scrutinized the strips of ryefield which here and there +were already being reaped, made his calculations as to the sowing +and the harvest, and asked himself whether he had not forgotten any of +the prince's orders. + +Having baited the horses twice on the way, he arrived at the town +toward evening on the fourth of August. + +Alpatych kept meeting and overtaking baggage trains and troops on +the road. As he approached Smolensk he heard the sounds of distant +firing, but these did not impress him. What struck him most was the +sight of a splendid field of oats in which a camp had been pitched and +which was being mown down by the soldiers, evidently for fodder. +This fact impressed Alpatych, but in thinking about his own business +he soon forgot it. + +All the interests of his life for more than thirty years had been +bounded by the will of the prince, and he never went beyond that +limit. Everything not connected with the execution of the prince's +orders did not interest and did not even exist for Alpatych. + +On reaching Smolensk on the evening of the fourth of August he put +up in the Gachina suburb across the Dnieper, at the inn kept by +Ferapontov, where he had been in the habit of putting up for the +last thirty years. Some thirty years ago Ferapontov, by Alpatych's +advice, had bought a wood from the prince, had begun to trade, and now +had a house, an inn, and a corn dealer's shop in that province. He was +a stout, dark, red-faced peasant in the forties, with thick lips, a +broad knob of a nose, similar knobs over his black frowning brows, and +a round belly. + +Wearing a waistcoat over his cotton shirt, Ferapontov was standing +before his shop which opened onto the street. On seeing Alpatych he +went up to him. + +"You're welcome, Yakov Alpatych. Folks are leaving the town, but you +have come to it," said he. + +"Why are they leaving the town?" asked Alpatych. + +"That's what I say. Folks are foolish! Always afraid of the French." + +"Women's fuss, women's fuss!" said Alpatych. + +"Just what I think, Yakov Alpatych. What I say is: orders have +been given not to let them in, so that must be right. And the peasants +are asking three rubles for carting- it isn't Christian!" + +Yakov Alpatych heard without heeding. He asked for a samovar and for +hay for his horses, and when he had had his tea he went to bed. + +All night long troops were moving past the inn. Next morning +Alpatych donned a jacket he wore only in town and went out on +business. It was a sunny morning and by eight o'clock it was already +hot. "A good day for harvesting," thought Alpatych. + +From beyond the town firing had been heard since early morning. At +eight o'clock the booming of cannon was added to the sound of +musketry. Many people were hurrying through the streets and there were +many soldiers, but cabs were still driving about, tradesmen stood at +their shops, and service was being held in the churches as usual. +Alpatych went to the shops, to government offices, to the post office, +and to the Governor's. In the offices and shops and at the post office +everyone was talking about the army and about the enemy who was +already attacking the town, everybody was asking what should be +done, and all were trying to calm one another. + +In front of the Governor's house Alpatych found a large number of +people, Cossacks, and a traveling carriage of the Governor's. At the +porch he met two of the landed gentry, one of whom he knew. This +man, an ex-captain of police, was saying angrily: + +"It's no joke, you know! It's all very well if you're single. 'One +man though undone is but one,' as the proverb says, but with +thirteen in your family and all the property... They've brought us +to utter ruin! What sort of governors are they to do that? They +ought to be hanged- the brigands!..." + +"Oh come, that's enough!" said the other. + +"What do I care? Let him hear! We're not dogs," said the +ex-captain of police, and looking round he noticed Alpatych. + +"Oh, Yakov Alpatych! What have you come for?" + +"To see the Governor by his excellency's order," answered +Alpatych, lifting his head and proudly thrusting his hand into the +bosom of his coat as he always did when he mentioned the prince.... He +has ordered me to inquire into the position of affairs," he added. + +"Yes, go and find out!" shouted the angry gentleman. "They've +brought things to such a pass that there are no carts or +anything!... There it is again, do you hear?" said he, pointing in the +direction whence came the sounds of firing. + +"They've brought us all to ruin... the brigands!" he repeated, and +descended the porch steps. + +Alpatych swayed his head and went upstairs. In the waiting room were +tradesmen, women, and officials, looking silently at one another. +The door of the Governor's room opened and they all rose and moved +forward. An official ran out, said some words to a merchant, called +a stout official with a cross hanging on his neck to follow him, and +vanished again, evidently wishing to avoid the inquiring looks and +questions addressed to him. Alpatych moved forward and next time the +official came out addressed him, one hand placed in the breast of +his buttoned coat, and handed him two letters. + +"To his Honor Baron Asch, from General-in-Chief Prince Bolkonski," +he announced with such solemnity and significance that the official +turned to him and took the letters. + +A few minutes later the Governor received Alpatych and hurriedly +said to him: + +"Inform the prince and princess that I knew nothing: I acted on +the highest instructions- here..." and he handed a paper to +Alpatych. "Still, as the prince is unwell my advice is that they +should go to Moscow. I am just starting myself. Inform them..." + +But the Governor did not finish: a dusty perspiring officer ran into +the room and began to say something in French. The Governor's face +expressed terror. + +"Go," he said, nodding his head to Alpatych, and began questioning +the officer. + +Eager, frightened, helpless glances were turned on Alpatych when +he came out of the Governor's room. Involuntarily listening now to the +firing, which had drawn nearer and was increasing in strength, +Alpatych hurried to his inn. The paper handed to him by the Governor +said this: + +"I assure you that the town of Smolensk is not in the slightest +danger as yet and it is unlikely that it will be threatened with +any. I from the one side and Prince Bagration from the other are +marching to unite our forces before Smolensk, which junction will be +effected on the 22nd instant, and both armies with their united forces +will defend our compatriots of the province entrusted to your care +till our efforts shall have beaten back the enemies of our Fatherland, +or till the last warrior in our valiant ranks has perished. From +this you will see that you have a perfect right to reassure the +inhabitants of Smolensk, for those defended by two such brave armies +may feel assured of victory." (Instructions from Barclay de Tolly to +Baron Asch, the civil governor of Smolensk, 1812.) + +People were anxiously roaming about the streets. + +Carts piled high with household utensils, chairs, and cupboards kept +emerging from the gates of the yards and moving along the streets. +Loaded carts stood at the house next to Ferapontov's and women were +wailing and lamenting as they said good-by. A small watchdog ran round +barking in front of the harnessed horses. + +Alpatych entered the innyard at a quicker pace than usual and went +straight to the shed where his horses and trap were. The coachman +was asleep. He woke him up, told him to harness, and went into the +passage. From the host's room came the sounds of a child crying, the +despairing sobs of a woman, and the hoarse angry shouting of +Ferapontov. The cook began running hither and thither in the passage +like a frightened hen, just as Alpatych entered. + +"He's done her to death. Killed the mistress!... Beat her... dragged +her about so!..." + +"What for?" asked Alpatych. + +"She kept begging to go away. She's a woman! 'Take me away,' says +she, 'don't let me perish with my little children! Folks,' she says, +'are all gone, so why,' she says, 'don't we go?' And he began +beating and pulling her about so!" + +At these words Alpatych nodded as if in approval, and not wishing to +hear more went to the door of the room opposite the innkeeper's, where +he had left his purchases. + +"You brute, you murderer!" screamed a thin, pale woman who, with a +baby in her arms and her kerchief torn from her head, burst through +the door at that moment and down the steps into the yard. + +Ferapontov came out after her, but on seeing Alpatych adjusted his +waistcoat, smoothed his hair, yawned, and followed Alpatych into the +opposite room. + +"Going already?" said he. + +Alpatych, without answering or looking at his host, sorted his +packages and asked how much he owed. + +"We'll reckon up! Well, have you been to the Governor's?" asked +Ferapontov. "What has been decided?" + +Alpatych replied that the Governor had not told him anything +definite. + +"With our business, how can we get away?" said Ferapontov. "We'd +have to pay seven rubles a cartload to Dorogobuzh and I tell them +they're not Christians to ask it! Selivanov, now, did a good stroke +last Thursday- sold flour to the army at nine rubles a sack. Will +you have some tea?" he added. + +While the horses were being harnessed Alpatych and Ferapontov over +their tea talked of the price of corn, the crops, and the good weather +for harvesting. + +"Well, it seems to be getting quieter," remarked Ferapontov, +finishing his third cup of tea and getting up. "Ours must have got the +best of it. The orders were not to let them in. So we're in force, +it seems.... They say the other day Matthew Ivanych Platov drove +them into the river Marina and drowned some eighteen thousand in one +day." + +Alpatych collected his parcels, handed them to the coachman who +had come in, and settled up with the innkeeper. The noise of wheels, +hoofs, and bells was heard from the gateway as a little trap passed +out. + +It was by now late in the afternoon. Half the street was in +shadow, the other half brightly lit by the sun. Alpatych looked out of +the window and went to the door. Suddenly the strange sound of a +far-off whistling and thud was heard, followed by a boom of cannon +blending into a dull roar that set the windows rattling. + +He went out into the street: two men were running past toward the +bridge. From different sides came whistling sounds and the thud of +cannon balls and bursting shells falling on the town. But these sounds +were hardly heard in comparison with the noise of the firing outside +the town and attracted little attention from the inhabitants. The town +was being bombarded by a hundred and thirty guns which Napoleon had +ordered up after four o'clock. The people did not at once realize +the meaning of this bombardment. + +At first the noise of the falling bombs and shells only aroused +curiosity. Ferapontov's wife, who till then had not ceased wailing +under the shed, became quiet and with the baby in her arms went to the +gate, listening to the sounds and looking in silence at the people. + +The cook and a shop assistant came to the gate. With lively +curiosity everyone tried to get a glimpse of the projectiles as they +flew over their heads. Several people came round the corner talking +eagerly. + +"What force!" remarked one. "Knocked the roof and ceiling all to +splinters!" + +"Routed up the earth like a pig," said another. + +"That's grand, it bucks one up!" laughed the first. "Lucky you +jumped aside, or it would have wiped you out!" + +Others joined those men and stopped and told how cannon balls had +fallen on a house close to them. Meanwhile still more projectiles, now +with the swift sinister whistle of a cannon ball, now with the +agreeable intermittent whistle of a shell, flew over people's heads +incessantly, but not one fell close by, they all flew over. Alpatych +was getting into his trap. The innkeeper stood at the gate. + +"What are you staring at?" he shouted to the cook, who in her red +skirt, with sleeves rolled up, swinging her bare elbows, had stepped +to the corner to listen to what was being said. + +"What marvels!" she exclaimed, but hearing her master's voice she +turned back. pulling down her tucked-up skirt. + +Once more something whistled, but this time quite close, swooping +downwards like a little bird; a flame flashed in the middle of the +street, something exploded, and the street was shrouded in smoke. + +"Scoundrel, what are you doing?" shouted the innkeeper, rushing to +the cook. + +At that moment the pitiful wailing of women was heard from different +sides, the frightened baby began to cry, and people crowded silently +with pale faces round the cook. The loudest sound in that crowd was +her wailing. + +"Oh-h-h! Dear souls, dear kind souls! Don't let me die! My good +souls!..." + +Five minutes later no one remained in the street. The cook, with her +thigh broken by a shell splinter, had been carried into the kitchen. +Alpatych, his coachman, Ferapontov's wife and children and the house +porter were all sitting in the cellar, listening. The roar of guns, +the whistling of projectiles, and the piteous moaning of the cook, +which rose above the other sounds, did not cease for a moment. The +mistress rocked and hushed her baby and when anyone came into the +cellar asked in a pathetic whisper what had become of her husband +who had remained in the street. A shopman who entered told her that +her husband had gone with others to the cathedral, whence they were +fetching the wonder-working icon of Smolensk. + +Toward dusk the cannonade began to subside. Alpatych left the cellar +and stopped in the doorway. The evening sky that had been so clear was +clouded with smoke, through which, high up, the sickle of the new moon +shone strangely. Now that the terrible din of the guns had ceased a +hush seemed to reign over the town, broken only by the rustle of +footsteps, the moaning, the distant cries, and the crackle of fires +which seemed widespread everywhere. The cook's moans had now subsided. +On two sides black curling clouds of smoke rose and spread from the +fires. Through the streets soldiers in various uniforms walked or +ran confusedly in different directions like ants from a ruined +ant-hill. Several of them ran into Ferapontov's yard before Alpatych's +eyes. Alpatych went out to the gate. A retreating regiment, +thronging and hurrying, blocked the street. + +Noticing him, an officer said: "The town is being abandoned. Get +away, get away!" and then, turning to the soldiers, shouted: + +"I'll teach you to run into the yards!" + +Alpatych went back to the house, called the coachman, and told him +to set off. Ferapontov's whole household came out too, following +Alpatych and the coachman. The women, who had been silent till then, +suddenly began to wail as they looked at the fires- the smoke and even +the flames of which could be seen in the failing twilight- and as if +in reply the same kind of lamentation was heard from other parts of +the street. Inside the shed Alpatych and the coachman arranged the +tangled reins and traces of their horses with trembling hands. + +As Alpatych was driving out of the gate he saw some ten soldiers +in Ferapontov's open shop, talking loudly and filling their bags and +knapsacks with flour and sunflower seeds. Just then Ferapontov +returned and entered his shop. On seeing the soldiers he was about +to shout at them, but suddenly stopped and, clutching at his hair, +burst into sobs and laughter: + +"Loot everything, lads! Don't let those devils get it!" he cried, +taking some bags of flour himself and throwing them into the street. + +Some of the soldiers were frightened and ran away, others went on +filling their bags. On seeing Alpatych, Ferapontov turned to him: + +"Russia is done for!" he cried. "Alpatych, I'll set the place on +fire myself. We're done for!..." and Ferapontov ran into the yard. + +Soldiers were passing in a constant stream along the street blocking +it completely, so that Alpatych could not pass out and had to wait. +Ferapontov's wife and children were also sitting in a cart waiting +till it was it was possible to drive out. + +Night had come. There were stars in the sky and the new moon shone +out amid the smoke that screened it. On the sloping descent to the +Dnieper Alpatych's cart and that of the innkeeper's wife, which were +slowly moving amid the rows of soldiers and of other vehicles, had +to stop. In a side street near the crossroads where the vehicles had +stopped, a house and some shops were on fire. This fire was already +burning itself out. The flames now died down and were lost in the +black smoke, now suddenly flared up again brightly, lighting up with +strange distinctness the faces of the people crowding at the +crossroads. Black figures flitted about before the fire, and through +the incessant crackling of the flames talking and shouting could be +heard. Seeing that his trap would not be able to move on for some +time, Alpatych got down and turned into the side street to look at the +fire. Soldiers were continually rushing backwards and forwards near +it, and he saw two of them and a man in a frieze coat dragging burning +beams into another yard across the street, while others carried +bundles of hay. + +Alpatych went up to a large crowd standing before a high barn +which was blazing briskly. The walls were all on fire and the back +wall had fallen in, the wooden roof was collapsing, and the rafters +were alight. The crowd was evidently watching for the roof to fall in, +and Alpatych watched for it too. + +"Alpatych!" a familiar voice suddenly hailed the old man. + +"Mercy on us! Your excellency!" answered Alpatych, immediately +recognizing the voice of his young prince. + +Prince Andrew in his riding cloak, mounted on a black horse, was +looking at Alpatych from the back of the crowd. + +"Why are you here?" he asked. + +"Your... your excellency," stammered Alpatych and broke into sobs. +"Are we really lost? Master!..." + +"Why are you here?" Prince Andrew repeated. + +At that moment the flames flared up and showed his young master's +pale worn face. Alpatych told how he had been sent there and how +difficult it was to get away. + +"Are we really quite lost, your excellency?" he asked again. + +Prince Andrew without replying took out a notebook and raising his +knee began writing in pencil on a page he tore out. He wrote to his +sister: + +"Smolensk is being abandoned. Bald Hills will be occupied by the +enemy within a week. Set off immediately for Moscow. Let me know at +once when you will start. Send by special messenger to Usvyazh." + +Having written this and given the paper to Alpatych, he told him how +to arrange for departure of the prince, the princess, his son, and the +boy's tutor, and how and where to let him know immediately. Before +he had had time to finish giving these instructions, a chief of +staff followed by a suite galloped up to him. + +"You are a colonel?" shouted the chief of staff with a German +accent, in a voice familiar to Prince Andrew. "Houses are set on +fire in your presence and you stand by! What does this mean? You +will answer for it!" shouted Berg, who was now assistant to the +chief of staff of the commander of the left flank of the infantry of +the first army, a place, as Berg said, "very agreeable and well en +evidence." + +Prince Andrew looked at him and without replying went on speaking to +Alpatych. + +"So tell them that I shall await a reply till the tenth, and if by +the tenth I don't receive news that they have all got away I shall +have to throw up everything and come myself to Bald Hills." + +"Prince," said Berg, recognizing Prince Andrew, "I only spoke +because I have to obey orders, because I always do obey exactly.... +You must please excuse me," he went on apologetically. + +Something cracked in the flames. The fire died down for a moment and +wreaths of black smoke rolled from under the roof. There was another +terrible crash and something huge collapsed. + +"Ou-rou-rou!" yelled the crowd, echoing the crash of the +collapsing roof of the barn, the burning grain in which diffused a +cakelike aroma all around. The flames flared up again, lighting the +animated, delighted, exhausted faces of the spectators. + +The man in the frieze coat raised his arms and shouted: + +"It's fine, lads! Now it's raging... It's fine!" + +"That's the owner himself," cried several voices. + +"Well then," continued Prince Andrew to Alpatych, "report to them as +I have told you"; and not replying a word to Berg who was now mute +beside him, he touched his horse and rode down the side street. + +CHAPTER V + +From Smolensk the troops continued to retreat, followed by the +enemy. On the tenth of August the regiment Prince Andrew commanded was +marching along the highroad past the avenue leading to Bald Hills. +Heat and drought had continued for more than three weeks. Each day +fleecy clouds floated across the sky and occasionally veiled the +sun, but toward evening the sky cleared again and the sun set in +reddish-brown mist. Heavy night dews alone refreshed the earth. The +unreaped corn was scorched and shed its grain. The marshes dried up. +The cattle lowed from hunger, finding no food on the sun-parched +meadows. Only at night and in the forests while the dew lasted was +there any freshness. But on the road, the highroad along which the +troops marched, there was no such freshness even at night or when +the road passed through the forest; the dew was imperceptible on the +sandy dust churned up more than six inches deep. As soon as day dawned +the march began. The artillery and baggage wagons moved noiselessly +through the deep dust that rose to the very hubs of the wheels, and +the infantry sank ankle-deep in that soft, choking, hot dust that +never cooled even at night. Some of this dust was kneaded by the +feet and wheels, while the rest rose and hung like a cloud over the +troops, settling in eyes, ears, hair, and nostrils, and worst of all +in the lungs of the men and beasts as they moved along that road. +The higher the sun rose the higher rose that cloud of dust, and +through the screen of its hot fine particles one could look with naked +eye at the sun, which showed like a huge crimson ball in the unclouded +sky. There was no wind, and the men choked in that motionless +atmosphere. They marched with handkerchiefs tied over their noses +and mouths. When they passed through a village they all rushed to +the wells and fought for the water and drank it down to the mud. + +Prince Andrew was in command of a regiment, and the management of +that regiment, the welfare of the men and the necessity of receiving +and giving orders, engrossed him. The burning of Smolensk and its +abandonment made an epoch in his life. A novel feeling of anger +against the foe made him forget his own sorrow. He was entirely +devoted to the affairs of his regiment and was considerate and kind to +his men and officers. In the regiment they called him "our prince," +were proud of him and loved him. But he was kind and gentle only to +those of his regiment, to Timokhin and the like- people quite new to +him, belonging to a different world and who could not know and +understand his past. As soon as he came across a former acquaintance +or anyone from the staff, he bristled up immediately and grew +spiteful, ironical, and contemptuous. Everything that reminded him +of his past was repugnant to him, and so in his relations with that +former circle he confined himself to trying to do his duty and not +to be unfair. + +In truth everything presented itself in a dark and gloomy light to +Prince Andrew, especially after the abandonment of Smolensk on the +sixth of August (he considered that it could and should have been +defended) and after his sick father had had to flee to Moscow, +abandoning to pillage his dearly beloved Bald Hills which he had built +and peopled. But despite this, thanks to his regiment, Prince Andrew +had something to think about entirely apart from general questions. +Two days previously he had received news that his father, son, and +sister had left for Moscow; and though there was nothing for him to do +at Bald Hills, Prince Andrew with a characteristic desire to foment +his own grief decided that he must ride there. + +He ordered his horse to be saddled and, leaving his regiment on +the march, rode to his father's estate where he had been born and +spent his childhood. Riding past the pond where there used always to +be dozens of women chattering as they rinsed their linen or beat it +with wooden beetles, Prince Andrew noticed that there was not a soul +about and that the little washing wharf, torn from its place and +half submerged, was floating on its side in the middle of the pond. He +rode to the keeper's lodge. No one at the stone entrance gates of +the drive and the door stood open. Grass had already begun to grow +on the garden paths, and horses and calves were straying in the +English park. Prince Andrew rode up to the hothouse; some of the glass +panes were broken, and of the trees in tubs some were overturned and +others dried up. He called for Taras the gardener, but no one replied. +Having gone round the corner of the hothouse to the ornamental garden, +he saw that the carved garden fence was broken and branches of the +plum trees had been torn off with the fruit. An old peasant whom +Prince Andrew in his childhood had often seen at the gate was +sitting on a green garden seat, plaiting a bast shoe. + +He was deaf and did not hear Prince Andrew ride up. He was sitting +on the seat the old prince used to like to sit on, and beside him +strips of bast were hanging on the broken and withered branch of a +magnolia. + +Prince Andrew rode up to the house. Several limes in the old +garden had been cut down and a piebald mare and her foal were +wandering in front of the house among the rosebushes. The shutters +were all closed, except at one window which was open. A little serf +boy, seeing Prince Andrew, ran into the house. Alpatych, having sent +his family away, was alone at Bald Hills and was sitting indoors +reading the Lives of the Saints. On hearing that Prince Andrew had +come, he went out with his spectacles on his nose, buttoning his coat, +and, hastily stepping up, without a word began weeping and kissing +Prince Andrew's knee. + +Then, vexed at his own weakness, he turned away and began to +report on the position of affairs. Everything precious and valuable +had been removed to Bogucharovo. Seventy quarters of grain had also +been carted away. The hay and the spring corn, of which Alpatych +said there had been a remarkable crop that year, had been commandeered +by the troops and mown down while still green. The peasants were +ruined; some of them too had gone to Bogucharovo, only a few remained. + +Without waiting to hear him out, Prince Andrew asked: + +"When did my father and sister leave?" meaning when did they leave +for Moscow. + +Alpatych, understanding the question to refer to their departure for +Bogucharovo, replied that they had left on the seventh and again +went into details concerning the estate management, asking for +instructions. + +"Am I to let the troops have the oats, and to take a receipt for +them? We have still six hundred quarters left," he inquired. + +"What am I to say to him?" thought Prince Andrew, looking down on +the old man's bald head shining in the sun and seeing by the +expression on his face that the old man himself understood how +untimely such questions were and only asked them to allay his grief. + +"Yes, let them have it," replied Prince Andrew. + +"If you noticed some disorder in the garden," said Alpatych, "it was +impossible to prevent it. Three regiments have been here and spent the +night, dragoons mostly. I took down the name and rank of their +commanding officer, to hand in a complaint about it." + +"Well, and what are you going to do? Will you stay here if the enemy +occupies the place?" asked Prince Andrew. + +Alpatych turned his face to Prince Andrew, looked at him, and +suddenly with a solemn gesture raised his arm. + +"He is my refuge! His will be done!" he exclaimed. + +A group of bareheaded peasants was approaching across the meadow +toward the prince. + +"Well, good-by!" said Prince Andrew, bending over to Alpatych. +"You must go away too, take away what you can and tell the serfs to go +to the Ryazan estate or to the one near Moscow." + +Alpatych clung to Prince Andrew's leg and burst into sobs. Gently +disengaging himself, the prince spurred his horse and rode down the +avenue at a gallop. + +The old man was still sitting in the ornamental garden, like a fly +impassive on the face of a loved one who is dead, tapping the last +on which he was making the bast shoe, and two little girls, running +out from the hot house carrying in their skirts plums they had plucked +from the trees there, came upon Prince Andrew. On seeing the young +master, the elder one frightened look clutched her younger companion +by the hand and hid with her behind a birch tree, not stopping to pick +up some green plums they had dropped. + +Prince Andrew turned away with startled haste, unwilling to let them +see that they had been observed. He was sorry for the pretty +frightened little girl, was afraid of looking at her, and yet felt +an irresistible desire to do so. A new sensation of comfort and relief +came over him when, seeing these girls, he realized the existence of +other human interests entirely aloof from his own and just as +legitimate as those that occupied him. Evidently these girls +passionately desired one thing- to carry away and eat those green +plums without being caught- and Prince Andrew shared their wish for +the success of their enterprise. He could not resist looking at them +once more. Believing their danger past, they sprang from their +ambush and, chirruping something in their shrill little voices and +holding up their skirts, their bare little sunburned feet scampered +merrily and quickly across the meadow grass. + +Prince Andrew was somewhat refreshed by having ridden off the +dusty highroad along which the troops were moving. But not far from +Bald Hills he again came out on the road and overtook his regiment +at its halting place by the dam of a small pond. It was past one +o'clock. The sun, a red ball through the dust, burned and scorched his +back intolerably through his black coat. The dust always hung +motionless above the buzz of talk that came from the resting troops. +There was no wind. As he crossed the dam Prince Andrew smelled the +ooze and freshness of the pond. He longed to get into that water, +however dirty it might be, and he glanced round at the pool from +whence came sounds of shrieks and laughter. The small, muddy, green +pond had risen visibly more than a foot, flooding the dam, because +it was full of the naked white bodies of soldiers with brick-red +hands, necks, and faces, who were splashing about in it. All this +naked white human flesh, laughing and shrieking, floundered about in +that dirty pool like carp stuffed into a watering can, and the +suggestion of merriment in that floundering mass rendered it specially +pathetic. + +One fair-haired young soldier of the third company, whom Prince +Andrew knew and who had a strap round the calf of one leg, crossed +himself, stepped back to get a good run, and plunged into the water; +another, a dark noncommissioned officer who was always shaggy, stood +up to his waist in the water joyfully wriggling his muscular figure +and snorted with satisfaction as he poured the water over his head +with hands blackened to the wrists. There were sounds of men +slapping one another, yelling, and puffing. + +Everywhere on the bank, on the dam, and in the pond, there was +healthy, white, muscular flesh. The officer, Timokhin, with his red +little nose, standing on the dam wiping himself with a towel, felt +confused at seeing the prince, but made up his mind to address him +nevertheless. + +"It's very nice, your excellency! Wouldn't you like to?" said he. + +"It's dirty," replied Prince Andrew, making a grimace. + +"We'll clear it out for you in a minute," said Timokhin, and, +still undressed, ran off to clear the men out of the pond. + +"The prince wants to bathe." + +"What prince? Ours?" said many voices, and the men were in such +haste to clear out that the prince could hardly stop them. He +decided that he would rather himself with water in the barn. + +"Flesh, bodies, cannon fodder!" he thought, and he looked at his own +naked body and shuddered, not from cold but from a sense of disgust +and horror he did not himself understand, aroused by the sight of that +immense number of bodies splashing about in the dirty pond. + +On the seventh of August Prince Bagration wrote as follows from +his quarters at Mikhaylovna on the Smolensk road: + +Dear Count Alexis Andreevich- (He was writing to Arakcheev but +knew that his letter would be read by the Emperor, and therefore +weighed every word in it to the best of his ability.) + +I expect the Minister [Barclay de Tolly] has already reported the +abandonment of Smolensk to the enemy. It is pitiable and sad, and +the whole army is in despair that this most important place has been +wantonly abandoned. I, for my part, begged him personally most +urgently and finally wrote him, but nothing would induce him to +consent. I swear to you on my honor that Napoleon was in such a fix as +never before and might have lost half his army but could not have +taken Smolensk. Our troops fought, and are fighting, as never +before. With fifteen thousand men I held the enemy at bay for +thirty-five hours and beat him; but he would not hold out even for +fourteen hours. It is disgraceful, a stain on our army, and as for +him, he ought, it seems to me, not to live. If he reports that our +losses were great, it is not true; perhaps about four thousand, not +more, and not even that; but even were they ten thousand, that's +war! But the enemy has lost masses... + +What would it have cost him to hold out for another two days? They +would have had to retire of their own accord, for they had no water +for men or horses. He gave me his word he would not retreat, but +suddenly sent instructions that he was retiring that night. We +cannot fight in this way, or we may soon bring the enemy to Moscow... + +There is a rumor that you are thinking of peace. God forbid that you +should make peace after all our sacrifices and such insane retreats! +You would set all Russia against you and every one of us would feel +ashamed to wear the uniform. If it has come to this- we must fight +as long as Russia can and as long as there are men able to stand... + +One man ought to be in command, and not two. Your Minister may +perhaps be good as a Minister, but as a general he is not merely bad +but execrable, yet to him is entrusted the fate of our whole +country.... I am really frantic with vexation; forgive my writing +boldly. It is clear that the man who advocates the conclusion of a +peace, and that the Minister should command the army, does not love +our sovereign and desires the ruin of us all. So I write you +frankly: call out the militia. For the Minister is leading these +visitors after him to Moscow in a most masterly way. The whole army +feels great suspicion of the Imperial aide-de-camp Wolzogen. He is +said to be more Napoleon's man than ours, and he is always advising +the Minister. I am not merely civil to him but obey him like a +corporal, though I am his senior. This is painful, but, loving my +benefactor and sovereign, I submit. Only I am sorry for the Emperor +that he entrusts our fine army to such as he. Consider that on our +retreat we have lost by fatigue and left in the hospital more than +fifteen thousand men, and had we attacked this would not have +happened. Tell me, for God's sake, what will Russia, our mother +Russia, say to our being so frightened, and why are we abandoning +our good and gallant Fatherland to such rabble and implanting feelings +of hatred and shame in all our subjects? What are we scared at and +of whom are we afraid? I am not to blame that the Minister is +vacillating, a coward, dense, dilatory, and has all bad qualities. The +whole army bewails it and calls down curses upon him... + +CHAPTER VI + +Among the innumerable categories applicable to the phenomena of +human life one may discriminate between those in which substance +prevails and those in which form prevails. To the latter- as +distinguished from village, country, provincial, or even Moscow +life- we may allot Petersburg life, and especially the life of its +salons. That life of the salons is unchanging. Since the year 1805 +we had made peace and had again quarreled with Bonaparte and had +made constitutions and unmade them again, but the salons of Anna +Pavlovna Helene remained just as they had been- the one seven and +the other five years before. At Anna Pavlovna's they talked with +perplexity of Bonaparte's successes just as before and saw in them and +in the subservience shown to him by the European sovereigns a +malicious conspiracy, the sole object of which was to cause +unpleasantness and anxiety to the court circle of which Anna +Pavlovna was the representative. And in Helene's salon, which +Rumyantsev himself honored with his visits, regarding Helene as a +remarkably intelligent woman, they talked with the same ecstasy in +1812 as in 1808 of the "great nation" and the "great man," and +regretted our rupture with France, a rupture which, according to them, +ought to be promptly terminated by peace. + +Of late, since the Emperor's return from the army, there had been +some excitement in these conflicting salon circles and some +demonstrations of hostility to one another, but each camp retained its +own tendency. In Anna Pavlovna's circle only those Frenchmen were +admitted who were deep-rooted legitimists, and patriotic views were +expressed to the effect that one ought not to go to the French theater +and that to maintain the French troupe was costing the government as +much as a whole army corps. The progress of the war was eagerly +followed, and only the reports most flattering to our army were +circulated. In the French circle of Helene and Rumyantsev the +reports of the cruelty of the enemy and of the war were contradicted +and all Napoleon's attempts at conciliation were discussed. In that +circle they discountenanced those who advised hurried preparations for +a removal to Kazan of the court and the girls' educational +establishments under the patronage of the Dowager Empress. In Helene's +circle the war in general was regarded as a series of formal +demonstrations which would very soon end in peace, and the view +prevailed expressed by Bilibin- who now in Petersburg was quite at +home in Helene's house, which every clever man was obliged to visit- +that not by gunpowder but by those who invented it would matters be +settled. In that circle the Moscow enthusiasm- news of which had +reached Petersburg simultaneously with the Emperor's return- was +ridiculed sarcastically and very cleverly, though with much caution. + +Anna Pavlovna's circle on the contrary was enraptured by this +enthusiasm and spoke of it as Plutarch speaks of the deeds of the +ancients. Prince Vasili, who still occupied his former important +posts, formed a connecting link between these two circles. He +visited his "good friend Anna Pavlovna" as well as his daughter's +"diplomatic salon," and often in his constant comings and goings +between the two camps became confused and said at Helene's what he +should have said at Anna Pavlovna's and vice versa. + +Soon after the Emperor's return Prince Vasili in a conversation +about the war at Anna Pavlovna's severely condemned Barclay de +Tolly, but was undecided as to who ought to be appointed commander +in chief. One of the visitors, usually spoken of as "a man of great +merit," having described how he had that day seen Kutuzov, the newly +chosen chief of the Petersburg militia, presiding over the +enrollment of recruits at the Treasury, cautiously ventured to suggest +that Kutuzov would be the man to satisfy all requirements. + +Anna Pavlovna remarked with a melancholy smile that Kutuzov had done +nothing but cause the Emperor annoyance. + +"I have talked and talked at the Assembly of the Nobility," Prince +Vasili interrupted, "but they did not listen to me. I told them his +election as chief of the militia would not please the Emperor. They +did not listen to me. + +"It's all this mania for opposition," he went on. "And who for? It +is all because we want to ape the foolish enthusiasm of those +Muscovites," Prince Vasili continued, forgetting for a moment that +though at Helene's one had to ridicule the Moscow enthusiasm, at +Anna Pavlovna's one had to be ecstatic about it. But he retrieved +his mistake at once. "Now, is it suitable that Count Kutuzov, the +oldest general in Russia, should preside at that tribunal? He will get +nothing for his pains! How could they make a man commander in chief +who cannot mount a horse, who drops asleep at a council, and has the +very worst morals! A good reputation he made for himself at Bucharest! +I don't speak of his capacity as a general, but at a time like this +how they appoint they appoint a decrepit, blind old man, positively +blind? A fine idea to have a blind general! He can't see anything. +To play blindman's bluff? He can't see at all!" + +No one replied to his remarks. + +This was quite correct on the twenty-fourth of July. But on the +twenty-ninth of July Kutuzov received the title of Prince. This +might indicate a wish to get rid of him, and therefore Prince Vasili's +opinion continued to be correct though he was not now in any hurry +to express it. But on the eighth of August a committee, consisting +of Field Marshal Saltykov, Arakcheev, Vyazmitinov, Lopukhin, and +Kochubey met to consider the progress of the war. This committee +came to the conclusion that our failures were due to a want of unity +in the command and though the members of the committee were aware of +the Emperor's dislike of Kutuzov, after a short deliberation they +agreed to advise his appointment as commander in chief. That same +day Kutuzov was appointed commander in chief with full powers over the +armies and over the whole region occupied by them. + +On the ninth of August Prince Vasili at Anna Pavlovna's again met +the "man of great merit." The latter was very attentive to Anna +Pavlovna because he wanted to be appointed director of one of the +educational establishments for young ladies. Prince Vasili entered the +room with the air of a happy conqueror who has attained the object +of his desires. + +"Well, have you heard the great news? Prince Kutuzov is field +marshal! All dissensions are at an end! I am so glad, so delighted! At +last we have a man!" said he, glancing sternly and significantly round +at everyone in the drawing room. + +The "man of great merit," despite his desire to obtain the post of +director, could not refrain from reminding Prince Vasili of his former +opinion. Though this was impolite to Prince Vasili in Anna +Pavlovna's drawing room, and also to Anna Pavlovna herself who had +received the news with delight, he could not resist the temptation. + +"But, Prince, they say he is blind!" said he, reminding Prince +Vasili of his own words. + +"Eh? Nonsense! He sees well enough," said Prince Vasili rapidly, +in a deep voice and with a slight cough- the voice and cough with +which he was wont to dispose of all difficulties. + +"He sees well enough," he added. "And what I am so pleased about," +he went on, "is that our sovereign has given him full powers over +all the armies and the whole region- powers no commander in chief ever +had before. He is a second autocrat," he concluded with a victorious +smile. + +"God grant it! God grant it!" said Anna Pavlovna. + +The "man of great merit," who was still a novice in court circles, +wishing to flatter Anna Pavlovna by defending her former position on +this question, observed: + +"It is said that the Emperor was reluctant to give Kutuzov those +powers. They say he blushed like a girl to whom Joconde is read, +when he said to Kutuzov: 'Your Emperor and the Fatherland award you +this honor.' + +"Perhaps the heart took no part in that speech," said Anna Pavlovna. + +"Oh, no, no!" warmly rejoined Prince Vasili, who would not now yield +Kutuzov to anyone; in his opinion Kutuzov was not only admirable +himself, but was adored by everybody. "No, that's impossible," said +he, "for our sovereign appreciated him so highly before." + +"God grant only that Prince Kutuzov assumes real power and does +not allow anyone to put a spoke in his wheel," observed Anna Pavlovna. + +Understanding at once to whom she alluded, Prince Vasili said in a +whisper: + +"I know for a fact that Kutuzov made it an absolute condition that +the Tsarevich should not be with the army. Do you know what he said to +the Emperor?" + +And Prince Vasili repeated the words supposed to have been spoken by +Kutuzov to the Emperor. "I can neither punish him if he does wrong nor +reward him if he does right." + +"Oh, a very wise man is Prince Kutuzov! I have known him a long +time!" + +"They even say," remarked the "man of great merit" who did not yet +possess courtly tact, "that his excellency made it an express +condition that the sovereign himself should not be with the army." + +As soon as he said this both Prince Vasili and Anna Pavlovna +turned away from him and glanced sadly at one another with a sigh at +his naivete. + +CHAPTER VII + +While this was taking place in Petersburg the French had already +passed Smolensk and were drawing nearer and nearer to Moscow. +Napoleon's historian Thiers, like other of his historians, trying to +justify his hero says that he was drawn to the walls of Moscow against +his will. He is as right as other historians who look for the +explanation of historic events in the will of one man; he is as +right as the Russian historians who maintain that Napoleon was drawn +to Moscow by the skill of the Russian commanders. Here besides the law +of retrospection, which regards all the past as a preparation for +events that subsequently occur, the law of reciprocity comes in, +confusing the whole matter. A good chessplayer having lost a game is +sincerely convinced that his loss resulted from a mistake he made +and looks for that mistake in the opening, but forgets that at each +stage of the game there were similar mistakes and that none of his +moves were perfect. He only notices the mistake to which he pays +attention, because his opponent took advantage of it. How much more +complex than this is the game of war, which occurs under certain +limits of time, and where it is not one will that manipulates lifeless +objects, but everything results from innumerable conflicts of +various wills! + +After Smolensk Napoleon sought a battle beyond Dorogobuzh at Vyazma, +and then at Tsarevo-Zaymishche, but it happened that owing to a +conjunction of innumerable circumstances the Russians could not give +battle till they reached Borodino, seventy miles from Moscow. From +Vyazma Napoleon ordered a direct advance on Moscow. + +Moscou, la capitale asiatique de ce grand empire, la ville sacree +des peuples d'Alexandre, Moscou avec ses innombrables eglises en forme +de pagodes chinoises,~^ this Moscow gave Napoleon's imagination no +rest. On the march from Vyazma to Tsarevo-Zaymishche he rode his light +bay bobtailed ambler accompanied by his Guards, his bodyguard, his +pages, and aides-de-camp. Berthier, his chief of staff, dropped behind +to question a Russian prisoner captured by the cavalry. Followed by +Lelorgne d'Ideville, an interpreter, he overtook Napoleon at a +gallop and reined in his horse with an amused expression. + +^~ "Moscow, the Asiatic capital of this great empire, the sacred +city of Alexander's people, Moscow with its innumerable churches +shaped like Chinese pagodas." + +"Well?" asked Napoleon. + +"One of Platov's Cossacks says that Platov's corps is joining up +with the main army and that Kutuzov has been appointed commander in +chief. He is a very shrewd and garrulous fellow." + +Napoleon smiled and told them to give the Cossack a horse and +bring the man to him. He wished to talk to him himself. Several +adjutants galloped off, and an hour later, Lavrushka, the serf Denisov +had handed over to Rostov, rode up to Napoleon in an orderly's +jacket and on a French cavalry saddle, with a merry, and tipsy face. +Napoleon told him to ride by his side and began questioning him. + +"You are a Cossack?" + +"Yes, a Cossack, your Honor." + +"The Cossack, not knowing in what company he was, for Napoleon's +plain appearance had nothing about it that would reveal to an Oriental +mind the presence of a monarch, talked with extreme familiarity of the +incidents of the war," says Thiers, narrating this episode. In reality +Lavrushka, having got drunk the day before and left his master +dinnerless, had been whipped and sent to the village in quest of +chickens, where he engaged in looting till the French took him +prisoner. Lavrushka was one of those coarse, bare-faced lackeys who +have seen all sorts of things, consider it necessary to do +everything in a mean and cunning way, are ready to render any sort +of service to their master, and are keen at guessing their master's +baser impulses, especially those prompted by vanity and pettiness. + +Finding himself in the company of Napoleon, whose identity he had +easily and surely recognized, Lavrushka was not in the least abashed +but merely did his utmost to gain his new master's favor. + +He knew very well that this was Napoleon, but Napoleon's presence +could no more intimidate him than Rostov's, or a sergeant major's with +the rods, would have done, for he had nothing that either the sergeant +major or Napoleon could deprive him of. + +So he rattled on, telling all the gossip he had heard among the +orderlies. Much of it true. But when Napoleon asked him whether the +Russians thought they would beat Bonaparte or not, Lavrushka screwed +up his eyes and considered. + +In this question he saw subtle cunning, as men of his type see +cunning in everything, so he frowned and did not answer immediately. + +"It's like this," he said thoughtfully, "if there's a battle soon, +yours will win. That's right. But if three days pass, then after that, +well, then that same battle will not soon be over." + +Lelorgne d'Ideville smilingly interpreted this speech to Napoleon +thus: "If a battle takes place within the next three days the French +will win, but if later, God knows what will happen." Napoleon did +not smile, though he was evidently in high good humor, and he +ordered these words to be repeated. + +Lavrushka noticed this and to entertain him further, pretending +not to know who Napoleon was, added: + +"We know that you have Bonaparte and that he has beaten everybody in +the world, but we are a different matter..."- without knowing why or +how this bit of boastful patriotism slipped out at the end. + +The interpreter translated these words without the last phrase, +and Bonaparte smiled. "The young Cossack made his mighty +interlocutor smile," says Thiers. After riding a few paces in silence, +Napoleon turned to Berthier and said he wished to see how the news +that he was talking to the Emperor himself, to that very Emperor who +had written his immortally victorious name on the Pyramids, would +affect this enfant du Don.~^ + +^~ "Child of the Don." + +The fact was accordingly conveyed to Lavrushka. + +Lavrushka, understanding that this was done to perplex him and +that Napoleon expected him to be frightened, to gratify his new +masters promptly pretended to be astonished and awe-struck, opened his +eyes wide, and assumed the expression he usually put on when taken +to be whipped. "As soon as Napoleon's interpreter had spoken," says +Thiers, "the Cossack, seized by amazement, did not utter another word, +but rode on, his eyes fixed on the conqueror whose fame had reached +him across the steppes of the East. All his loquacity was suddenly +arrested and replaced by a naive and silent feeling of admiration. +Napoleon, after making the Cossack a present, had him set free like +a bird restored to its native fields." + +Napoleon rode on, dreaming of the Moscow that so appealed to his +imagination, and "the bird restored to its native fields" galloped +to our outposts, inventing on the way all that had not taken place but +that he meant to relate to his comrades. What had really taken place +he did not wish to relate because it seemed to him not worth +telling. He found the Cossacks, inquired for the regiment operating +with Platov's detachment and by evening found his master, Nicholas +Rostov, quartered at Yankovo. Rostov was just mounting to go for a +ride round the neighboring villages with Ilyin; he let Lavrushka +have another horse and took him along with him. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Princess Mary was not in Moscow and out of danger as Prince Andrew +supposed. + +After the return of Alpatych from Smolensk the old prince suddenly +seemed to awake as from a dream. He ordered the militiamen to be +called up from the villages and armed, and wrote a letter to the +commander in chief informing him that he had resolved to remain at +Bald Hills to the last extremity and to defend it, leaving to the +commander in chief's discretion to take measures or not for the +defense of Bald Hills, where one of Russia's oldest generals would +be captured or killed, and he announced to his household that he would +remain at Bald Hills. + +But while himself remaining, he gave instructions for the +departure of the princess and Dessalles with the little prince to +Bogucharovo and thence to Moscow. Princess Mary, alarmed by her +father's feverish and sleepless activity after his previous apathy, +could not bring herself to leave him alone and for the first time in +her life ventured to disobey him. She refused to go away and her +father's fury broke over her in a terrible storm. He repeated every +injustice he had ever inflicted on her. Trying to convict her, he told +her she had worn him out, had caused his quarrel with his son, had +harbored nasty suspicions of him, making it the object of her life +to poison his existence, and he drove her from his study telling her +that if she did not go away it was all the same to him. He declared +that he did not wish to remember her existence and warned her not to +dare to let him see her. The fact that he did not, as she had +feared, order her to be carried away by force but only told her not to +let him see her cheered Princess Mary. She knew it was a proof that in +the depth of his soul he was glad she was remaining at home and had +not gone away. + +The morning after little Nicholas had left, the old prince donned +his full uniform and prepared to visit the commander in chief. His +caleche was already at the door. Princess Mary saw him walk out of the +house in his uniform wearing all his orders and go down the garden +to review his armed peasants and domestic serfs. She sat by the window +listening to his voice which reached her from the garden. Suddenly +several men came running up the avenue with frightened faces. + +Princess Mary ran out to the porch, down the flower-bordered path, +and into the avenue. A large crowd of militiamen and domestics were +moving toward her, and in their midst several men were supporting by +the armpits and dragging along a little old man in a uniform and +decorations. She ran up to him and, in the play of the sunlight that +fell in small round spots through the shade of the lime-tree avenue, +could not be sure what change there was in his face. All she could see +was that his former stern and determined expression had altered to one +of timidity and submission. On seeing his daughter he moved his +helpless lips and made a hoarse sound. It was impossible to make out +what he wanted. He was lifted up, carried to his study, and laid on +the very couch he had so feared of late. + +The doctor, who was fetched that same night, bled him and said +that the prince had had seizure a paralyzing his right side. + +It was becoming more and more dangerous to remain at Bald Hills, and +next day they moved the prince to Bogucharovo, the doctor accompanying +him. + +By the time they reached Bogucharovo, Dessalles and the little +prince had already left for Moscow. + +For three weeks the old prince lay stricken by paralysis in the +new house Prince Andrew had built at Bogucharovo, ever in the same +state, getting neither better nor worse. He was unconscious and lay +like a distorted corpse. He muttered unceasingly, his eyebrows and +lips twitching, and it was impossible to tell whether he understood +what was going on around him or not. One thing was certain- that he +was suffering and wished to say something. But what it was, no one +could tell: it might be some caprice of a sick and half-crazy man, +or it might relate to public affairs, or possibly to family concerns. + +The doctor said this restlessness did not mean anything and was +due to physical causes; but Princess Mary thought he wished to tell +her something, and the fact that her presence always increased his +restlessness confirmed her opinion. + +He was evidently suffering both physically and mentally. There was +no hope of recovery. It was impossible for him to travel, it would not +do to let him die on the road. "Would it not be better if the end +did come, the very end?" Princess Mary sometimes thought. Night and +day, hardly sleeping at all, she watched him and, terrible to say, +often watched him not with hope of finding signs of improvement but +wishing to find symptoms of the approach of the end. + +Strange as it was to her to acknowledge this feeling in herself, yet +there it was. And what seemed still more terrible to her was that +since her father's illness began (perhaps even sooner, when she stayed +with him expecting something to happen), all the personal desires +and hopes that had been forgotten or sleeping within her had awakened. +Thoughts that had not entered her mind for years- thoughts of a life +free from the fear of her father, and even the possibility of love and +of family happiness- floated continually in her imagination like +temptations of the devil. Thrust them aside as she would, questions +continually recurred to her as to how she would order her life now, +after that. These were temptations of the devil and Princess Mary knew +it. She knew that the sole weapon against him was prayer, and she +tried to pray. She assumed an attitude of prayer, looked at the icons, +repeated the words of a prayer, but she could not pray. She felt +that a different world had now taken possession of her- the life of +a world of strenuous and free activity, quite opposed to the spiritual +world in which till now she had been confined and in which her +greatest comfort had been prayer. She could not pray, could not +weep, and worldly cares took possession of her. + +It was becoming dangerous to remain in Bogucharovo. News of the +approach of the French came from all sides, and in one village, ten +miles from Bogucharovo, a homestead had been looted by French +marauders. + +The doctor insisted on the necessity of moving the prince; the +provincial Marshal of the Nobility sent an official to Princess Mary +to persuade her to get away as quickly as possible, and the head of +the rural police having come to Bogucharovo urged the same thing, +saying that the French were only some twenty-five miles away, that +French proclamations were circulating in the villages, and that if the +princess did not take her father away before the fifteenth, he could +not answer for the consequences. + +The princess decided to leave on the fifteenth. The cares of +preparation and giving orders, for which everyone came to her, +occupied her all day. She spent the night of the fourteenth as +usual, without undressing, in the room next to the one where the +prince lay. Several times, waking up, she heard his groans and +muttering, the creak of his bed, and the steps of Tikhon and the +doctor when they turned him over. Several times she listened at the +door, and it seemed to her that his mutterings were louder than +usual and that they turned him over oftener. She could not sleep and +several times went to the door and listened, wishing to enter but +not deciding to do so. Though he did not speak, Princess Mary saw +and knew how unpleasant every sign of anxiety on his account was to +him. She had noticed with what dissatisfaction he turned from the look +she sometimes involuntarily fixed on him. She knew that her going in +during the night at an unusual hour would irritate him. + +But never had she felt so grieved for him or so much afraid of +losing him. She recalled all her life with him and in every word and +act of his found an expression of his love of her. Occasionally amid +these memories temptations of the devil would surge into her +imagination: thoughts of how things would be after his death, and +how her new, liberated life would be ordered. But she drove these +thoughts away with disgust. Toward morning he became quiet and she +fell asleep. + +She woke late. That sincerity which often comes with waking showed +her clearly what chiefly concerned her about her father's illness. +On waking she listened to what was going on behind the door and, +hearing him groan, said to herself with a sigh that things were +still the same. + +"But what could have happened? What did I want? I want his death!" +she cried with a feeling of loathing for herself. + +She washed, dressed, said her prayers, and went out to the porch. In +front of it stood carriages without horses and things were being +packed into the vehicles. + +It was a warm, gray morning. Princess Mary stopped at the porch, +still horrified by her spiritual baseness and trying to arrange her +thoughts before going to her father. The doctor came downstairs and +went out to her. + +"He is a little better today," said he. "I was looking for you. +One can make out something of what he is saying. His head is +clearer. Come in, he is asking for you..." + +Princess Mary's heart beat so violently at this news that she grew +pale and leaned against the wall to keep from falling. To see him, +talk to him, feel his eyes on her now that her whole soul was +overflowing with those dreadful, wicked temptations, was a torment +of joy and terror. + +"Come," said the doctor. + +Princess Mary entered her father's room and went up to his bed. He +was lying on his back propped up high, and his small bony hands with +their knotted purple veins were lying on the quilt; his left eye gazed +straight before him, his right eye was awry, and his brows and lips +motionless. He seemed altogether so thin, small, and pathetic. His +face seemed to have shriveled or melted; his features had grown +smaller. Princess Mary went up and kissed his hand. His left hand +pressed hers so that she understood that he had long been waiting +for her to come. He twitched her hand, and his brows and lips quivered +angrily. + +She looked at him in dismay trying to guess what he wanted of her. +When she changed her position so that his left eye could see her +face he calmed down, not taking his eyes off her for some seconds. +Then his lips and tongue moved, sounds came, and he began to speak, +gazing timidly and imploringly at her, evidently afraid that she might +not understand. + +Straining all her faculties Princess Mary looked at him. The comic +efforts with which he moved his tongue made her drop her eyes and with +difficulty repress the sobs that rose to her throat. He said +something, repeating the same words several times. She could not +understand them, but tried to guess what he was saying and inquiringly +repeated the words he uttered. + +"Mmm...ar...ate...ate..." he repeated several times. + +It was quite impossible to understand these sounds. The doctor +thought he had guessed them, and inquiringly repeated: "Mary, are +you afraid?" The prince shook his head, again repeated the same +sounds. + +"My mind, my mind aches?" questioned Princess Mary. + +He made a mumbling sound in confirmation of this, took her hand, and +began pressing it to different parts of his breast as if trying to +find the right place for it. + +"Always thoughts... about you... thoughts..." he then uttered much +more clearly than he had done before, now that he was sure of being +understood. + +Princess Mary pressed her head against his hand, trying to hide +her sobs and tears. + +He moved his hand over her hair. + +"I have been calling you all night..." he brought out. + +"If only I had known..." she said through her tears. "I was afraid +to come in." + +He pressed her hand. + +"Weren't you asleep?" + +"No, I did not sleep," said Princess Mary, shaking her head. + +Unconsciously imitating her father, she now tried to express herself +as he did, as much as possible by signs, and her tongue too seemed +to move with difficulty. + +"Dear one... Dearest..." Princess Mary could not quite make out what +he had said, but from his look it was clear that he had uttered a +tender caressing word such as he had never used to her before. "Why +didn't you come in?" + +"And I was wishing for his death!" thought Princess Mary. + +He was silent awhile. + +"Thank you... daughter dear!... for all, for all... forgive!... +thank you!... forgive!... thank you!..." and tears began to flow +from his eyes. "Call Andrew!" he said suddenly, and a childish, +timid expression of doubt showed itself on his face as he spoke. + +He himself seemed aware that his demand was meaningless. So at least +it seemed to Princess Mary. + +"I have a letter from him," she replied. + +He glanced at her with timid surprise. + +"Where is he?" + +"He's with the army, Father, at Smolensk." + +He closed his eyes and remained silent a long time. Then as if in +answer to his doubts and to confirm the fact that now he understood +and remembered everything, he nodded his head and reopened his eyes. + +"Yes," he said, softly and distinctly. "Russia has perished. They've +destroyed her." + +And he began to sob, and again tears flowed from his eyes. +Princess Mary could no longer restrain herself and wept while she +gazed at his face. + +Again he closed his eyes. His sobs ceased, he pointed to his eyes, +and Tikhon, understanding him, wiped away the tears. + +Then he again opened his eyes and said something none of them +could understand for a long time, till at last Tikhon understood and +repeated it. Princess Mary had sought the meaning of his words in +the mood in which he had just been speaking. She thought he was +speaking of Russia, or Prince Andrew, of herself, of his grandson, +or of his own death, and so she could not guess his words. + +"Put on your white dress. I like it," was what he said. + +Having understood this Princess Mary sobbed still louder, and the +doctor taking her arm led her out to the veranda, soothing her and +trying to persuade her to prepare for her journey. When she had left +the room the prince again began speaking about his son, about the war, +and about the Emperor, angrily twitching his brows and raising his +hoarse voice, and then he had a second and final stroke. + +Princess Mary stayed on the veranda. The day had cleared, it was hot +and sunny. She could understand nothing, think of nothing and feel +nothing, except passionate love for her father, love such as she +thought she had never felt till that moment. She ran out sobbing +into the garden and as far as the pond, along the avenues of young +lime trees Prince Andrew had planted. + +"Yes... I... I... I wished for his death! Yes, I wanted it to end +quicker.... I wished to be at peace.... And what will become of me? +What use will peace be when he is no longer here?" Princess Mary +murmured, pacing the garden with hurried steps and pressing her +hands to her bosom which heaved with convulsive sobs. + +When she had completed the tour of the garden, which brought her +again to the house, she saw Mademoiselle Bourienne- who had remained +at Bogucharovo and did not wish to leave it- coming toward her with +a stranger. This was the Marshal of the Nobility of the district, +who had come personally to point out to the princess the necessity for +her prompt departure. Princess Mary listened without understanding +him; she led him to the house, offered him lunch, and sat down with +him. Then, excusing herself, she went to the door of the old +prince's room. The doctor came out with an agitated face and said +she could not enter. + +"Go away, Princess! Go away... go away!" + +She returned to the garden and sat down on the grass at the foot +of the slope by the pond, where no one could see her. She did not know +how long she had been there when she was aroused by the sound of a +woman's footsteps running along the path. She rose and saw Dunyasha +her maid, who was evidently looking for her, and who stopped +suddenly as if in alarm on seeing her mistress. + +"Please come, Princess... The Prince," said Dunyasha in a breaking +voice. + +"Immediately, I'm coming, I'm coming!" replied the princess +hurriedly, not giving Dunyasha time to finish what she was saying, and +trying to avoid seeing the girl she ran toward the house. + +"Princess, it's God's will! You must be prepared for everything," +said the Marshal, meeting her at the house door. + +"Let me alone; it's not true!" she cried angrily to him. + +The doctor tried to stop her. She pushed him aside and ran to her +father's door. "Why are these people with frightened faces stopping +me? I don't want any of them! And what are they doing here?" she +thought. She opened the door and the bright daylight in that +previously darkened room startled her. In the room were her nurse +and other women. They all drew back from the bed, making way for +her. He was still lying on the bed as before, but the stern expression +of his quiet face made Princess Mary stop short on the threshold. + +"No, he's not dead- it's impossible!" she told herself and +approached him, and repressing the terror that seized her, she pressed +her lips to his cheek. But she stepped back immediately. All the force +of the tenderness she had been feeling for him vanished instantly +and was replaced by a feeling of horror at what lay there before +her. "No, he is no more! He is not, but here where he was is something +unfamiliar and hostile, some dreadful, terrifying, and repellent +mystery!" And hiding her face in her hands, Princess Mary sank into +the arms of the doctor, who held her up. + +In the presence of Tikhon and the doctor the women washed what had +been the prince, tied his head up with a handkerchief that the mouth +should not stiffen while open, and with another handkerchief tied +together the legs that were already spreading apart. Then they dressed +him in uniform with his decorations and placed his shriveled little +body on a table. Heaven only knows who arranged all this and when, but +it all got done as if of its own accord. Toward night candles were +burning round his coffin, a pall was spread over it, the floor was +strewn with sprays of juniper, a printed band was tucked in under +his shriveled head, and in a corner of the room sat a chanter +reading the psalms. + +Just as horses shy and snort and gather about a dead horse, so the +inmates of the house and strangers crowded into the drawing room round +the coffin- the Marshal, the village Elder, peasant women- and all +with fixed and frightened eyes, crossing themselves, bowed and +kissed the old prince's cold and stiffened hand. + +CHAPTER IX + +Until Prince Andrew settled in Bogucharovo its owners had always +been absentees, and its peasants were of quite a different character +from those of Bald Hills. They differed from them in speech, dress, +and disposition. They were called steppe peasants. The old prince used +to approve of them for their endurance at work when they came to +Bald Hills to help with the harvest or to dig ponds, and ditches, +but he disliked them for their boorishness. + +Prince Andrew's last stay at Bogucharovo, when he introduced +hospitals and schools and reduced the quitrent the peasants had to +pay, had not softened their disposition but had on the contrary +strengthened in them the traits of character the old prince called +boorishness. Various obscure rumors were always current among them: at +one time a rumor that they would all be enrolled as Cossacks; at +another of a new religion to which they were all to be converted; then +of some proclamation of the Tsar's and of an oath to the Tsar Paul +in 1797 (in connection with which it was rumored that freedom had been +granted them but the landowners had stopped it), then of Peter +Fedorovich's return to the throne in seven years' time, when +everything would be made free and so "simple" that there would be no +restrictions. Rumors of the war with Bonaparte and his invasion were +connected in their minds with the same sort of vague notions of +Antichrist, the end of the world, and "pure freedom." + +In the vicinity of Bogucharovo were large villages belonging to +the crown or to owners whose serfs paid quitrent and could work +where they pleased. There were very few resident landlords in the +neighborhood and also very few domestic or literate serfs, and in +the lives of the peasantry of those parts the mysterious undercurrents +in the life of the Russian people, the causes and meaning of which are +so baffling to contemporaries, were more clearly and strongly +noticeable than among others. One instance, which had occurred some +twenty years before, was a movement among the peasants to emigrate +to some unknown "warm rivers." Hundreds of peasants, among them the +Bogucharovo folk, suddenly began selling their cattle and moving in +whole families toward the southeast. As birds migrate to somewhere +beyond the sea, so these men with their wives and children streamed to +the southeast, to parts where none of them had ever been. They set off +in caravans, bought their freedom one by one or ran away, and drove or +walked toward the "warm rivers." Many of them were punished, some sent +to Siberia, many died of cold and hunger on the road, many returned of +their own accord, and the movement died down of itself just as it +had sprung up, without apparent reason. But such undercurrents still +existed among the people and gathered new forces ready to manifest +themselves just as strangely, unexpectedly, and at the same time +simply, naturally, and forcibly. Now in 1812, to anyone living in +close touch with these people it was apparent that these undercurrents +were acting strongly and nearing an eruption. + +Alpatych, who had reached Bogucharovo shortly before the old +prince's death, noticed an agitation among the peasants, and that +contrary to what was happening in the Bald Hills district, where +over a radius of forty miles all the peasants were moving away and +leaving their villages to be devastated by the Cossacks, the +peasants in the steppe region round Bogucharovo were, it was +rumored, in touch with the French, received leaflets from them that +passed from hand to hand, and did not migrate. He learned from +domestic serfs loyal to him that the peasant Karp, who possessed great +influence in the village commune and had recently been away driving +a government transport, had returned with news that the Cossacks +were destroying deserted villages, but that the French did not harm +them. Alpatych also knew that on the previous day another peasant +had even brought from the village of Visloukhovo, which was occupied +by the French, a proclamation by a French general that no harm would +be done to the inhabitants, and if they remained they would be paid +for anything taken from them. As proof of this the peasant had brought +from Visloukhovo a hundred rubles in notes (he did not know that +they were false) paid to him in advance for hay. + +More important still, Alpatych learned that on the morning of the +very day he gave the village Elder orders to collect carts to move the +princess' luggage from Bogucharovo, there had been a village meeting +at which it had been decided not to move but to wait. Yet there was no +time to waste. On the fifteenth, the day of the old prince's death, +the Marshal had insisted on Princess Mary's leaving at once, as it was +becoming dangerous. He had told her that after the sixteenth he +could not be responsible for what might happen. On the evening of +the day the old prince died the Marshal went away, promising to return +next day for the funeral. But this he was unable to do, for he +received tidings that the French had unexpectedly advanced, and had +barely time to remove his own family and valuables from his estate. + +For some thirty years Bogucharovo had been managed by the village +Elder, Dron, whom the old prince called by the diminutive "Dronushka." + +Dron was one of those physically and mentally vigorous peasants +who grow big beards as soon as they are of age and go on unchanged +till they are sixty or seventy, without a gray hair or the loss of a +tooth, as straight and strong at sixty as at thirty. + +Soon after the migration to the "warm rivers," in which he had taken +part like the rest, Dron was made village Elder and overseer of +Bogucharovo, and had since filled that post irreproachably for +twenty-three years. The peasants feared him more than they did their +master. The masters, both the old prince and the young, and the +steward respected him and jestingly called him "the Minister." +During the whole time of his service Dron had never been drunk or ill, +never after sleepless nights or the hardest tasks had he shown the +least fatigue, and though he could not read he had never forgotten a +single money account or the number of quarters of flour in any of +the endless cartloads he sold for the prince, nor a single shock of +the whole corn crop on any single acre of the Bogucharovo fields. + +Alpatych, arriving from the devastated Bald Hills estate, sent for +his Dron on the day of the prince's funeral and told him to have +twelve horses got ready for the princess' carriages and eighteen carts +for the things to be removed from Bogucharovo. Though the peasants +paid quitrent, Alpatych thought no difficulty would be made about +complying with this order, for there were two hundred and thirty +households at work in Bogucharovo and the peasants were well to do. +But on hearing the order Dron lowered his eyes and remained silent. +Alpatych named certain peasants he knew, from whom he told him to take +the carts. + +Dron replied that the horses of these peasants were away carting. +Alpatych named others, but they too, according to Dron, had no +horses available: some horses were carting for the government, +others were too weak, and others had died for want of fodder. It +seemed that no horses could be had even for the carriages, much less +for the carting. + +Alpatych looked intently at Dron and frowned. Just as Dron was a +model village Elder, so Alpatych had not managed the prince's +estates for twenty years in vain. He a model steward, possessing in +the highest degree the faculty of divining the needs and instincts +of those he dealt with. Having glanced at Dron he at once understood +that his answers did not express his personal views but the general +mood of the Bogucharovo commune, by which the Elder had already been +carried away. But he also knew that Dron, who had acquired property +and was hated by the commune, must be hesitating between the two +camps: the masters' and the serfs'. He noticed this hesitation in +Dron's look and therefore frowned and moved closer up to him. + +"Now just listen, Dronushka," said he. "Don't talk nonsense to me. +His excellency Prince Andrew himself gave me orders to move all the +people away and not leave them with the enemy, and there is an order +from the Tsar about it too. Anyone who stays is a traitor to the Tsar. +Do you hear?" + +"I hear," Dron answered without lifting his eyes. + +Alpatych was not satisfied with this reply. + +"Eh, Dron, it will turn out badly!" he said, shaking his head. + +"The power is in your hands," Dron rejoined sadly. + +"Eh, Dron, drop it!" Alpatych repeated, withdrawing his hand from +his bosom and solemnly pointing to the floor at Dron's feet. "I can +see through you and three yards into the ground under you," he +continued, gazing at the floor in front of Dron. + +Dron was disconcerted, glanced furtively at Alpatych and again +lowered his eyes. + +"You drop this nonsense and tell the people to get ready to leave +their homes and go to Moscow and to get carts ready for tomorrow +morning for the princess' things. And don't go to any meeting +yourself, do you hear?" + +Dron suddenly fell on his knees. + +"Yakov Alpatych, discharge me! Take the keys from me and discharge +me, for Christ's sake!" + +"Stop that!" cried Alpatych sternly. "I see through you and three +yards under you," he repeated, knowing that his skill in beekeeping, +his knowledge of the right time to sow the oats, and the fact that +he had been able to retain the old prince's favor for twenty years had +long since gained him the reputation of being a wizard, and that the +power of seeing three yards under a man is considered an attribute +of wizards. + +Dron got up and was about to say something, but Alpatych interrupted +him. + +"What is it you have got into your heads, eh?... What are you +thinking of, eh?" + +"What am I to do with the people?" said Dron. "They're quite +beside themselves; I have already told them..." + +"'Told them,' I dare say!" said Alpatych. "Are they drinking?" he +asked abruptly. + +"Quite beside themselves, Yakov Alpatych; they've fetched another +barrel." + +"Well, then, listen! I'll go to the police officer, and you tell +them so, and that they must stop this and the carts must be got +ready." + +"I understand." + +Alpatych did not insist further. He had managed people for a long +time and knew that the chief way to make them obey is to show no +suspicion that they can possibly disobey. Having wrung a submissive "I +understand" from Dron, Alpatych contented himself with that, though he +not only doubted but felt almost certain that without the help of +troops the carts would not be forthcoming. + +And so it was, for when evening came no carts had been provided. +In the village, outside the drink shop, another meeting was being +held, which decided that the horses should be driven out into the +woods and the carts should not be provided. Without saying anything of +this to the princess, Alpatych had his own belongings taken out of the +carts which had arrived from Bald Hills and had those horses got ready +for the princess' carriages. Meanwhile he went himself to the police +authorities. + +CHAPTER X + +After her father's funeral Princess Mary shut herself up in her room +and did not admit anyone. A maid came to the door to say that Alpatych +was asking for orders about their departure. (This was before his talk +with Dron.) Princess Mary raised herself on the sofa on which she +had been lying and replied through the closed door that she did not +mean to go away and begged to be left in peace. + +The windows of the room in which she was lying looked westward. +She lay on the sofa with her face to the wall, fingering the buttons +of the leather cushion and seeing nothing but that cushion, and her +confused thoughts were centered on one subject- the irrevocability +of death and her own spiritual baseness, which she had not +suspected, but which had shown itself during her father's illness. She +wished to pray but did not dare to, dared not in her present state +of mind address herself to God. She lay for a long time in that +position. + +The sun had reached the other side of the house, and its slanting +rays shone into the open window, lighting up the room and part of +the morocco cushion at which Princess Mary was looking. The flow of +her thoughts suddenly stopped. Unconsciously she sat up, smoothed +her hair, got up, and went to the window, involuntarily inhaling the +freshness of the clear but windy evening. + +"Yes, you can well enjoy the evening now! He is gone and no one will +hinder you," she said to herself, and sinking into a chair she let her +head fall on the window sill. + +Someone spoke her name in a soft and tender voice from the garden +and kissed her head. She looked up. It was Mademoiselle Bourienne in a +black dress and weepers. She softly approached Princess Mary, +sighed, kissed her, and immediately began to cry. The princess +looked up at her. All their former disharmony and her own jealousy +recurred to her mind. But she remembered too how he had changed of +late toward Mademoiselle Bourienne and could not bear to see her, +thereby showing how unjust were the reproaches Princess Mary had +mentally addressed to her. "Besides, is it for me, for me who +desired his death, to condemn anyone?" she thought. + +Princess Mary vividly pictured to herself the position of +Mademoiselle Bourienne, whom she had of late kept at a distance, but +who yet was dependent on her and living in her house. She felt sorry +for her and held out her hand with a glance of gentle inquiry. +Mademoiselle Bourienne at once began crying again and kissed that +hand, speaking of the princess' sorrow and making herself a partner in +it. She said her only consolation was the fact that the princess +allowed her to share her sorrow, that all the old misunderstandings +should sink into nothing but this great grief; that she felt herself +blameless in regard to everyone, and that he, from above, saw her +affection and gratitude. The princess heard her, not heeding her words +but occasionally looking up at her and listening to the sound of her +voice. + +"Your position is doubly terrible, dear princess," said Mademoiselle +Bourienne after a pause. "I understand that you could not, and cannot, +think of yourself, but with my love for you I must do so.... Has +Alpatych been to you? Has he spoken to you of going away?" she asked. + +Princess Mary did not answer. She did not understand who was to go +or where to. "Is it possible to plan or think of anything now? Is it +not all the same?" she thought, and did not reply. + +"You know, chere Marie," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, "that we are +in danger- are surrounded by the French. It would be dangerous to move +now. If we go we are almost sure to be taken prisoners, and God +knows..." + +Princess Mary looked at her companion without understanding what she +was talking about. + +"Oh, if anyone knew how little anything matters to me now," she +said. "Of course I would on no account wish to go away from him.... +Alpatych did say something about going.... Speak to him; I can do +nothing, nothing, and don't want to...." + +"I've spoken to him. He hopes we should be in time to get away +tomorrow, but I think it would now be better to stay here," said +Mademoiselle Bourienne. "Because, you will agree, chere Marie, to fall +into the hands of the soldiers or of riotous peasants would be +terrible." + +Mademoiselle Bourienne took from her reticule a proclamation (not +printed on ordinary Russian paper) of General Rameau's, telling people +not to leave their homes and that the French authorities would +afford them proper protection. She handed this to the princess. + +"I think it would be best to appeal to that general," she continued, +"and and am sure that all due respect would be shown you." + +Princess Mary read the paper, and her face began to quiver with +stifled sobs. + +"From whom did you get this?" she asked. + +"They probably recognized that I am French, by my name," replied +Mademoiselle Bourienne blushing. + +Princess Mary, with the paper in her hand, rose from the window +and with a pale face went out of the room and into what had been +Prince Andrew's study. + +"Dunyasha, send Alpatych, or Dronushka, or somebody to me!" she +said, "and tell Mademoiselle Bourienne not to come to me," she +added, hearing Mademoiselle Bourienne's voice. "We must go at once, at +once!" she said, appalled at the thought of being left in the hands of +the French. + +"If Prince Andrew heard that I was in the power of the French! +That I, the daughter of Prince Nicholas Bolkonski, asked General +Rameau for protection and accepted his favor!" This idea horrified +her, made her shudder, blush, and feel such a rush of anger and +pride as she had never experienced before. All that was distressing, +and especially all that was humiliating, in her position rose +vividly to her mind. "They, the French, would settle in this house: M. +le General Rameau would occupy Prince Andrew's study and amuse himself +by looking through and reading his letters and papers. Mademoiselle +Bourienne would do the honors of Bogucharovo for him. I should be +given a small room as a favor, the soldiers would violate my +father's newly dug grave to steal his crosses and stars, they would +tell me of their victories over the Russians, and would pretend to +sympathize with my sorrow..." thought Princess Mary, not thinking +her own thoughts but feeling bound to think like her father and her +brother. For herself she did not care where she remained or what +happened to her, but she felt herself the representative of her dead +father and of Prince Andrew. Involuntarily she thought their +thoughts and felt their feelings. What they would have said and what +they would have done she felt bound to say and do. She went into +Prince Andrew's study, trying to enter completely into his ideas, +and considered her position. + +The demands of life, which had seemed to her annihilated by her +father's death, all at once rose before her with a new, previously +unknown force and took possession of her. + +Agitated and flushed she paced the room, sending now for Michael +Ivanovich and now for Tikhon or Dron. Dunyasha, the nurse, and the +other maids could not say in how far Mademoiselle Bourienne's +statement was correct. Alpatych was not at home, he had gone to the +police. Neither could the architect Michael Ivanovich, who on being +sent for came in with sleepy eyes, tell Princess Mary anything. With +just the same smile of agreement with which for fifteen years he had +been accustomed to answer the old prince without expressing views of +his own, he now replied to Princess Mary, so that nothing definite +could be got from his answers. The old valet Tikhon, with sunken, +emaciated face that bore the stamp of inconsolable grief, replied: +"Yes, Princess" to all Princess Mary's questions and hardly +refrained from sobbing as he looked at her. + +At length Dron, the village Elder, entered the room and with a +deep bow to Princess Mary came to a halt by the doorpost. + +Princess Mary walked up and down the room and stopped in front of +him. + +"Dronushka," she said, regarding as a sure friend this Dronushka who +always used to bring a special kind of gingerbread from his visit to +the fair at Vyazma every year and smilingly offer it to her, +"Dronushka, now since our misfortune..." she began, but could not go +on. + +"We are all in God's hands," said he, with a sigh. + +They were silent for a while. + +"Dronushka, Alpatych has gone off somewhere and I have no one to +turn to. Is true, as they tell me, that I can't even go away?" + +"Why shouldn't you go away, your excellency? You can go," said Dron. + +"I was told it would be dangerous because of the enemy. Dear friend, +I can do nothing. I understand nothing. I have nobody! I want to go +away tonight or early tomorrow morning." + +Dron paused. He looked askance at Princess Mary and said: "There are +no horses; I told Yakov Alpatych so." + +"Why are there none?" asked the princess. + +"It's all God's scourge," said Dron. "What horses we had have been +taken for the army or have died- this is such a year! It's not a +case of feeding horses- we may die of hunger ourselves! As it is, some +go three days without eating. We've nothing, we've been ruined." + +Princess Mary listened attentively to what he told her. + +"The peasants are ruined? They have no bread?" she asked. + +"They're dying of hunger," said Dron. "It's not a case of carting." + +"But why didn't you tell me, Dronushka? Isn't it possible to help +them? I'll do all I can...." + +To Princess Mary it was strange that now, at a moment when such +sorrow was filling her soul, there could be rich people and poor, +and the rich could refrain from helping the poor. She had heard +vaguely that there was such a thing as "landlord's corn" which was +sometimes given to the peasants. She also knew that neither her father +nor her brother would refuse to help the peasants in need, she only +feared to make some mistake in speaking about the distribution of +the grain she wished to give. She was glad such cares presented +themselves, enabling her without scruple to forget her own grief. +She began asking Dron about the peasants' needs and what there was +in Bogucharovo that belonged to the landlord. + +"But we have grain belonging to my brother?" she said. + +"The landlord's grain is all safe," replied Dron proudly. "Our +prince did not order it to be sold." + +"Give it to the peasants, let them have all they need; I give you +leave in my brother's name," said she. + +Dron made no answer but sighed deeply. + +"Give them that corn if there is enough of it. Distribute it all. +I give this order in my brother's name; and tell them that what is +ours is theirs. We do not grudge them anything. Tell them so." + +" Dron looked intently at the princess while she was speaking. + +"Discharge me, little mother, for God's sake! Order the keys to be +taken from me," said he. "I have served twenty-three years and have +done no wrong. Discharge me, for God's sake!" + +Princess Mary did not understand what he wanted of her or why he was +asking to be discharged. She replied that she had never doubted his +devotion and that she was ready to do anything for him and for the +peasants. + +CHAPTER XI + +An hour later Dunyasha came to tell the princess that Dron had come, +and all the peasants had assembled at the barn by the princess' +order and wished to have word with their mistress. + +"But I never told them to come," said Princess Mary. "I only told +Dron to let them have the grain." + +"Only, for God's sake, Princess dear, have them sent away and +don't go out to them. It's all a trick," said Dunyasha, "and when +Yakov Alpatych returns let us get away... and please don't..." + +"What is a trick?" asked Princess Mary in surprise. + +"I know it is, only listen to me for God's sake! Ask nurse too. They +say they don't agree to leave Bogucharovo as you ordered." + +"You're making some mistake. I never ordered them to go away," +said Princess Mary. "Call Dronushka." + +Dron came and confirmed Dunyasha's words; the peasants had come by +the princess' order. + +"But I never sent for them," declared the princess. "You must have +given my message wrong. I only said that you were to give them the +grain." + +Dron only sighed in reply. + +"If you order it they will go away," said he. + +"No, no. I'll go out to them," said Princess Mary, and in spite of +the nurse's and Dunyasha's protests she went out into the porch; Dron, +Dunyasha, the nurse, and Michael Ivanovich following her. + +"They probably think I am offering them the grain to bribe them to +remain here, while I myself go away leaving them to the mercy of the +French," thought Princess Mary. "I will offer them monthly rations and +housing at our Moscow estate. I am sure Andrew would do even more in +my place," she thought as she went out in the twilight toward the +crowd standing on the pasture by the barn. + +The men crowded closer together, stirred, and rapidly took off their +hats. Princess Mary lowered her eyes and, tripping over her skirt, +came close up to them. So many different eyes, old and young, were +fixed on her, and there were so many different faces, that she could +not distinguish any of them and, feeling that she must speak to them +all at once, did not know how to do it. But again the sense that she +represented her father and her brother gave her courage, and she +boldly began her speech. + +"I am very glad you have come," she said without raising her eyes, +and feeling her heart beating quickly and violently. "Dronushka +tells me that the war has ruined you. That is our common misfortune, +and I shall grudge nothing to help you. I am myself going away because +it is dangerous here... the enemy is near... because... I am giving +you everything, my friends, and I beg you to take everything, all +our grain, so that you may not suffer want! And if you have been +told that I am giving you the grain to keep you here- that is not +true. On the contrary, I ask you to go with all your belongings to our +estate near Moscow, and I promise you I will see to it that there +you shall want for nothing. You shall be given food and lodging." + +The princess stopped. Sighs were the only sound heard in the crowd. + +"I am not doing this on my own account," she continued, "I do it +in the name of my dead father, who was a good master to you, and of my +brother and his son." + +Again she paused. No one broke the silence. + +"Ours is a common misfortune and we will share it together. All that +is mine is yours," she concluded, scanning the faces before her. + +All eyes were gazing at her with one and the same expression. She +could not fathom whether it was curiosity, devotion, gratitude, or +apprehension and distrust- but the expression on all the faces was +identical. + +"We are all very thankful for your bounty, but it won't do for us to +take the landlord's grain," said a voice at the back of the crowd. + +"But why not?" asked the princess. + +No one replied and Princess Mary, looking round at the crowd, +found that every eye she met now was immediately dropped. + +"But why don't you want to take it?" she asked again. + +No one answered. + +The silence began to oppress the princess and she tried to catch +someone's eye. + +"Why don't you speak?" she inquired of a very old man who stood just +in front of her leaning on his stick. "If you think something more +is wanted, tell me! I will do anything," said she, catching his eye. + +But as if this angered him, he bent his head quite low and muttered: + +"Why should we agree? We don't want the grain." + +"Why should we give up everything? We don't agree. Don't agree.... +We are sorry for you, but we're not willing. Go away yourself, +alone..." came from various sides of the crowd. + +And again all the faces in that crowd bore an identical +expression, though now it was certainly not an expression of curiosity +or gratitude, but of angry resolve. + +"But you can't have understood me," said Princess Mary with a sad +smile. "Why don't you want to go? I promise to house and feed you, +while here the enemy would ruin you..." + +But her voice was drowned by the voices of the crowd. + +"We're not willing. Let them ruin us! We won't take your grain. We +don't agree." + +Again Princess Mary tried to catch someone's eye, but not a single +eye in the crowd was turned to her; evidently they were all trying +to avoid her look. She felt strange and awkward. + +"Oh yes, an artful tale! Follow her into slavery! Pull down your +houses and go into bondage! I dare say! 'I'll give you grain, indeed!' +she says," voices in the crowd were heard saying. + +With drooping head Princess Mary left the crowd and went back to the +house. Having repeated her order to Dron to have horses ready for +her departure next morning, she went to her room and remained alone +with her own thoughts. + +CHAPTER XII + +For a long time that night Princess Mary sat by the open window of +her room hearing the sound of the peasants' voices that reached her +from the village, but it was not of them she was thinking. She felt +that she could not understand them however much she might think +about them. She thought only of one thing, her sorrow, which, after +the break caused by cares for the present, seemed already to belong to +the past. Now she could remember it and weep or pray. + +After sunset the wind had dropped. The night was calm and fresh. +Toward midnight the voices began to subside, a cock crowed, the full +moon began to show from behind the lime trees, a fresh white dewy mist +began to rise, and stillness reigned over the village and the house. + +Pictures of the near past- her father's illness and last moments- +rose one after another to her memory. With mournful pleasure she now +lingered over these images, repelling with horror only the last one, +the picture of his death, which she felt she could not contemplate +even in imagination at this still and mystic hour of night. And +these pictures presented themselves to her so clearly and in such +detail that they seemed now present, now past, and now future. + +She vividly recalled the moment when he had his first stroke and was +being dragged along by his armpits through the garden at Bald Hills, +muttering something with his helpless tongue, twitching his gray +eyebrows and looking uneasily and timidly at her. + +"Even then he wanted to tell me what he told me the day he died," +she thought. "He had always thought what he said then." And she +recalled in all its detail the night at Bald Hills before he had the +last stroke, when with a foreboding of disaster she had remained at +home against his will. She had not slept and had stolen downstairs +on tiptoe, and going to the door of the conservatory where he slept +that night had listened at the door. In a suffering and weary voice he +was saying something to Tikhon, speaking of the Crimea and its warm +nights and of the Empress. Evidently he had wanted to talk. "And why +didn't he call me? Why didn't he let me be there instead of Tikhon?" +Princess Mary had thought and thought again now. "Now he will never +tell anyone what he had in his soul. Never will that moment return for +him or for me when he might have said all he longed to say, and not +Tikhon but I might have heard and understood him. Why didn't I enter +the room?" she thought. "Perhaps he would then have said to me what he +said the day he died. While talking to Tikhon he asked about me twice. +He wanted to see me, and I was standing close by, outside the door. It +was sad and painful for him to talk to Tikhon who did not understand +him. I remember how he began speaking to him about Lise as if she were +alive- he had forgotten she was dead- and Tikhon reminded him that she +was no more, and he shouted, 'Fool!' He was greatly depressed. From +behind the door I heard how he lay down on his bed groaning and loudly +exclaimed, 'My God!' Why didn't I go in then? What could he have +done to me? What could I have lost? And perhaps he would then have +been comforted and would have said that word to me." And Princess Mary +uttered aloud the caressing word he had said to her on the day of +his death. "Dear-est!" she repeated, and began sobbing, with tears +that relieved her soul. She now saw his face before her. And not the +face she had known ever since she could remember and had always seen +at a distance, but the timid, feeble face she had seen for the first +time quite closely, with all its wrinkles and details, when she +stooped near to his mouth to catch what he said. + +"Dear-est!" she repeated again. + +"What was he thinking when he uttered that word? What is he thinking +now?" This question suddenly presented itself to her, and in answer +she saw him before her with the expression that was on his face as +he lay in his coffin with his chin bound up with a white handkerchief. +And the horror that had seized her when she touched him and +convinced herself that that was not he, but something mysterious and +horrible, seized her again. She tried to think of something else and +to pray, but could do neither. With wide-open eyes she gazed at the +moonlight and the shadows, expecting every moment to see his dead +face, and she felt that the silence brooding over the house and within +it held her fast. + +"Dunyasha," she whispered. "Dunyasha!" she screamed wildly, and +tearing herself out of this silence she ran to the servants' +quarters to meet her old nurse and the maidservants who came running +toward her. + +CHAPTER XIII + +On the seventeenth of August Rostov and Ilyin, accompanied by +Lavrushka who had just returned from captivity and by an hussar +orderly, left their quarters at Yankovo, ten miles from Bogucharovo, +and went for a ride- to try a new horse Ilyin had bought and to find +out whether there was any hay to be had in the villages. + +For the last three days Bogucharovo had lain between the two hostile +armies, so that it was as easy for the Russian rearguard to get to +it as for the French vanguard; Rostov, as a careful squadron +commander, wished to take such provisions as remained at Bogucharovo +before the French could get them. + +Rostov and Ilyin were in the merriest of moods. On the way to +Bogucharovo, a princely estate with a dwelling house and farm where +they hoped to find many domestic serfs and pretty girls, they +questioned Lavrushka about Napoleon and laughed at his stories, and +raced one another to try Ilyin's horse. + +Rostov had no idea that the village he was entering was the property +of that very Bolkonski who had been engaged to his sister. + +Rostov and Ilyin gave rein to their horses for a last race along the +incline before reaching Bogucharovo, and Rostov, outstripping Ilyin, +was the first to gallop into the village street. + +"You're first!" cried Ilyin, flushed. + +"Yes, always first both on the grassland and here," answered Rostov, +stroking his heated Donets horse. + +"And I'd have won on my Frenchy, your excellency," said Lavrushka +from behind, alluding to his shabby cart horse, "only I didn't wish to +mortify you. + +They rode at a footpace to the barn, where a large crowd of peasants +was standing. + +Some of the men bared their heads, others stared at the new arrivals +without doffing their caps. Two tall old peasants with wrinkled +faces and scanty beards emerged from the tavern, smiling, +staggering, and singing some incoherent song, and approached the +officers. + +"Fine fellows!" said Rostov laughing. "Is there any hay here?" + +"And how like one another," said Ilyin. + +"A mo-o-st me-r-r-y co-o-m-pa...!" sang one of the peasants with a +blissful smile. + +One of the men came out of the crowd and went up to Rostov. + +"Who do you belong to?" he asked. + +"The French," replied Ilyin jestingly, "and here is Napoleon +himself"- and he pointed to Lavrushka. + +"Then you are Russians?" the peasant asked again. + +"And is there a large force of you here?" said another, a short man, +coming up. + +"Very large," answered Rostov. "But why have you collected here?" he +added. "Is it a holiday?" + +"The old men have met to talk over the business of the commune," +replied the peasant, moving away. + +At that moment, on the road leading from the big house, two women +and a man in a white hat were seen coming toward the officers. + +"The one in pink is mine, so keep off!" said Ilyin on seeing +Dunyasha running resolutely toward him. + +"She'll be ours!" said Lavrushka to Ilyin, winking. + +"What do you want, my pretty?" said Ilyin with a smile. + +"The princess ordered me to ask your regiment and your name." + +"This is Count Rostov, squadron commander, and I am your humble +servant." + +"Co-o-om-pa-ny!" roared the tipsy peasant with a beatific smile as +he looked at Ilyin talking to the girl. Following Dunyasha, Alpatych +advanced to Rostov, having bared his head while still at a distance. + +"May I make bold to trouble your honor?" said he respectfully, but +with a shade of contempt for the youthfulness of this officer and with +a hand thrust into his bosom. "My mistress, daughter of General in +Chief Prince Nicholas Bolkonski who died on the fifteenth of this +month, finding herself in difficulties owing to the boorishness of +these people"- he pointed to the peasants- "asks you to come up to the +house.... Won't you, please, ride on a little farther," said +Alpatych with a melancholy smile, "as it is not convenient in the +presence of...?" He pointed to the two peasants who kept as close to +him as horseflies to a horse. + +"Ah!... Alpatych... Ah, Yakov Alpatych... Grand! Forgive us for +Christ's sake, eh?" said the peasants, smiling joyfully at him. + +Rostov looked at the tipsy peasants and smiled. + +"Or perhaps they amuse your honor?" remarked Alpatych with a staid +air, as he pointed at the old men with his free hand. + +"No, there's not much to be amused at here," said Rostov, and rode +on a little way. "What's the matter?" he asked. + +"I make bold to inform your honor that the rude peasants here +don't wish to let the mistress leave the estate, and threaten to +unharness her horses, so that though everything has been packed up +since morning, her excellency cannot get away." + +"Impossible!" exclaimed Rostov. + +"I have the honor to report to you the actual truth," said Alpatych. + +Rostov dismounted, gave his horse to the orderly, and followed +Alpatych to the house, questioning him as to the state of affairs. +It appeared that the princess' offer of corn to the peasants the +previous day, and her talk with Dron and at the meeting, had +actually had so bad an effect that Dron had finally given up the +keys and joined the peasants and had not appeared when Alpatych sent +for him; and that in the morning when the princess gave orders to +harness for her journey, the peasants had come in a large crowd to the +barn and sent word that they would not let her leave the village: that +there was an order not to move, and that they would unharness the +horses. Alpatych had gone out to admonish them, but was told (it was +chiefly Karp who did the talking, Dron not showing himself in the +crowd) that they could not let the princess go, that there was an +order to the contrary, but that if she stayed they would serve her +as before and obey her in everything. + +At the moment when Rostov and Ilyin were galloping along the road, +Princess Mary, despite the dissuasions of Alpatych, her nurse, and the +maids, had given orders to harness and intended to start, but when the +cavalrymen were espied they were taken for Frenchmen, the coachman ran +away, and the women in the house began to wail. + +"Father! Benefactor! God has sent you!" exclaimed deeply moved +voices as Rostov passed through the anteroom. + +Princess Mary was sitting helpless and bewildered in the large +sitting room, when Rostov was shown in. She could not grasp who he was +and why he had come, or what was happening to her. When she saw his +Russian face, and by his walk and the first words he uttered +recognized him as a man of her own class, she glanced at him with +her deep radiant look and began speaking in a voice that faltered +and trembled with emotion. This meeting immediately struck Rostov as a +romantic event. "A helpless girl overwhelmed with grief, left to the +mercy of coarse, rioting peasants! And what a strange fate sent me +here! What gentleness and nobility there are in her features and +expression!" thought he as he looked at her and listened to her +timid story. + +When she began to tell him that all this had happened the day +after her father's funeral, her voiced trembled. She turned away, +and then, as if fearing he might take her words as meant to move him +to pity, looked at him with an apprehensive glance of inquiry. There +were tears in Rostov's eyes. Princess Mary noticed this and glanced +gratefully at him with that radiant look which caused the plainness of +her face to be forgotten. + +"I cannot express, Princess, how glad I am that I happened to ride +here and am able to show my readiness to serve you," said Rostov, +rising. "Go when you please, and I give you my word of honor that no +one shall dare to cause you annoyance if only you will allow me to act +as your escort." And bowing respectfully, as if to a lady of royal +blood, he moved toward the door. + +Rostov's deferential tone seemed to indicate that though he would +consider himself happy to be acquainted with her, he did not wish to +take advantage of her misfortunes to intrude upon her. + +Princess Mary understood this and appreciated his delicacy. + +"I am very, very grateful to you," she said in French, "but I hope +it was all a misunderstanding and that no one is to blame for it." She +suddenly began to cry. + +"Excuse me!" she said. + +Rostov, knitting his brows, left the room with another low bow. + +CHAPTER XIV + +Well, is she pretty? Ah, friend- my pink one is delicious; her +name is Dunyasha...." + +But on glancing at Rostov's face Ilyin stopped short. He saw that +his hero and commander was following quite a different train of +thought. + +Rostov glanced angrily at Ilyin and without replying strode off with +rapid steps to the village. + +"I'll show them; I'll give it to them, the brigands!" said he to +himself. + +Alpatych at a gliding trot, only just managing not to run, kept up +with him with difficulty. + +"What decision have you been pleased to come to?" said he. + +Rostov stopped and, clenching his fists, suddenly and sternly turned +on Alpatych. + +"Decision? What decision? Old dotard!..." cried he. "What have you +been about? Eh? The peasants are rioting, and you can't manage them? +You're a traitor youself! I know you. I'll flay you all alive!..." And +as if afraid of wasting his store of anger, he left Alpatych and +went rapidly forward. Alpatych, mastering his offended feelings, +kept pace with Rostov at a gliding gait and continued to impart his +views. He said the peasants were obdurate and that at the present +moment it would be imprudent to "overresist" them without an armed +force, and would it not be better first to send for the military? + +"I'll give them armed force... I'll 'overresist' them!" uttered +Rostov meaninglessly, breathless with irrational animal fury and the +need to vent it. + +Without considering what he would do he moved unconciously with +quick, resolute steps toward the crowd. And the nearer he drew to it +the more Alpatych felt that this unreasonable action might produce +good results. The peasants in the crowd were similarly impressed +when they saw Rostov's rapid, firm steps and resolute, frowning face. + +After the hussars had come to the village and Rostov had gone to see +the princess, a certain confusion and dissension had arisen among +the crowd. Some of the peasants said that these new arrivals were +Russians and might take it amiss that the mistress was being detained. +Dron was of this opinion, but as soon as he expressed it Karp and +others attacked their ex-Elder. + +"How many years have you been fattening on the commune?" Karp +shouted at him. "It's all one to you! You'll dig up your pot of +money and take it away with you.... What does it matter to you whether +our homes are ruined or not?" + +"We've been told to keep order, and that no one is to leave their +homes or take away a single grain, and that's all about it!" cried +another. + +"It was your son's turn to be conscripted, but no fear! You +begrudged your lump of a son," a little old man suddenly began +attacking Dron- "and so they took my Vanka to be shaved for a soldier! +But we all have to die." + +"To be sure, we all have to die. I'm not against the commune," +said Dron. + +"That's it- not against it! You've filled your belly...." + +The two tall peasants had their say. As soon as Rostov, followed +by Ilyin, Lavrushka, and Alpatych, came up to the crowd, Karp, +thrusting his fingers into his belt and smiling a little, walked to +the front. Dron on the contrary retired to the rear and the crowd drew +closer together. + +"Who is your Elder here? Hey?" shouted Rostov, coming up to the +crowd with quick steps. + +"The Elder? What do you want with him?..." asked Karp. + +But before the words were well out of his mouth, his cap flew off +and a fierce blow jerked his head to one side. + +"Caps off, traitors!" shouted Rostov in a wrathful voice. "Where's +the Elder?" he cried furiously. + +"The Elder.... He wants the Elder!... Dron Zakharych, you!" meek and +flustered voices here and there were heard calling and caps began to +come off their heads. + +"We don't riot, we're following the orders," declared Karp, and at +that moment several voices began speaking together. + +"It's as the old men have decided- there's too many of you giving +orders." + +"Arguing? Mutiny!... Brigands! Traitors!" cried Rostov unmeaningly +in a voice not his own, gripping Karp by the collar. "Bind him, bind +him!" he shouted, though there was no one to bind him but Lavrushka +and Alpatych. + +Lavrushka, however, ran up to Karp and seized him by the arms from +behind. + +"Shall I call up our men from beyond the hill?" he called out. + +Alpatych turned to the peasants and ordered two of them by name to +come and bind Karp. The men obediently came out of the crowd and began +taking off their belts. + +"Where's the Elder?" demanded Rostov in a loud voice. + +With a pale and frowning face Dron stepped out of the crowd. + +"Are you the Elder? Bind him, Lavrushka!" shouted Rostov, as if that +order, too, could not possibly meet with any opposition. + +And in fact two more peasants began binding Dron, who took off his +own belt and handed it to them, as if to aid them. + +"And you all listen to me!" said Rostov to the peasants. "Be off +to your houses at once, and don't let one of your voices be heard!" + +"Why, we've not done any harm! We did it just out of foolishness. +It's all nonsense... I said then that it was not in order," voices +were heard bickering with one another. + +"There! What did I say?" said Alpatych, coming into his own again. +"It's wrong, lads!" + +"All our stupidity, Yakov Alpatych," came the answers, and the +crowd began at once to disperse through the village. + +The two bound men were led off to the master's house. The two +drunken peasants followed them. + +"Aye, when I look at you!..." said one of them to Karp. + +"How can one talk to the masters like that? What were you thinking +of, you fool?" added the other- "A real fool!" + +Two hours later the carts were standing in the courtyard of the +Bogucharovo house. The peasants were briskly carrying out the +proprietor's goods and packing them on the carts, and Dron, +liberated at Princess Mary's wish from the cupboard where he had +been confined, was standing in the yard directing the men. + +"Don't put it in so carelessly," said one of the peasants, a man +with a round smiling face, taking a casket from a housemaid. "You know +it has cost money! How can you chuck it in like that or shove it under +the cord where it'll get rubbed? I don't like that way of doing +things. Let it all be done properly, according to rule. Look here, put +it under the bast matting and cover it with hay- that's the way!" + +"Eh, books, books!" said another peasant, bringing out Prince +Andrew's library cupboards. "Don't catch up against it! It's heavy, +lads- solid books." + +"Yes, they worked all day and didn't play!" remarked the tall, +round-faced peasant gravely, pointing with a significant wink at the +dictionaries that were on the top. + +Unwilling to obtrude himself on the princess, Rostov did not go back +to the house but remained in the village awaiting her departure. +When her carriage drove out of the house, he mounted and accompanied +her eight miles from Bogucharovo to where the road was occupied by our +troops. At the inn at Yankovo he respectfully took leave of her, for +the first time permitting himself to kiss her hand. + +"How can you speak so!" he blushingly replied to Princess Mary's +expressions of gratitude for her deliverance, as she termed what had +occurred. "Any police officer would have done as much! If we had had +only peasants to fight, we should not have let the enemy come so far," +said he with a sense of shame and wishing to change the subject. "I am +only happy to have had the opportunity of making your acquaintance. +Good-by, Princess. I wish you happiness and consolation and hope to +meet you again in happier circumstances. If you don't want to make +me blush, please don't thank me!" + +But the princess, if she did not again thank him in words, thanked +him with the whole expression of her face, radiant with gratitude +and tenderness. She could not believe that there was nothing to +thank him for. On the contrary, it seemed to her certain that had he +not been there she would have perished at the hands of the mutineers +and of the French, and that he had exposed himself to terrible and +obvious danger to save her, and even more certain was it that he was a +man of lofty and noble soul, able to understand her position and her +sorrow. His kind, honest eyes, with the tears rising in them when +she herself had begun to cry as she spoke of her loss, did leave her +memory. + +When she had taken leave of him and remained alone she suddenly felt +her eyes filling with tears, and then not for the first time the +strange question presented itself to her: did she love him? + +On the rest of the way to Moscow, though the princess' position +was not a cheerful one, Dunyasha, who went with her in the carriage, +more than once noticed that her mistress leaned out of the window +and smiled at something with an expression of mingled joy and sorrow. + +"Well, supposing I do love him?" thought Princess Mary. + +Ashamed as she was of acknowledging to herself that she had fallen +in love with a man who would perhaps never love her, she comforted +herself with the thought that no one would ever know it and that she +would not be to blame if, without ever speaking of it to anyone, she +continued to the end of her life to love the man with whom she had +fallen in love for the first and last time in her life. + +Sometimes when she recalled his looks, his sympathy, and his +words, happiness did not appear impossible to her. It was at those +moments that Dunyasha noticed her smiling as she looked out of the +carriage window. + +"Was it not fate that brought him to Bogucharovo, and at that very +moment?" thought Princess Mary. "And that caused his sister to +refuse my brother?" And in all this Princess Mary saw the hand of +Providence. + +The impression the princess made on Rostov was a very agreeable one. +To remember her gave him pleasure, and when his comrades, hearing of +his adventure at Bogucharovo, rallied him on having gone to look for +hay and having picked up one of the wealthiest heiresses in Russia, he +grew angry. It made him angry just because the idea of marrying the +gentle Princess Mary, who was attractive to him and had an enormous +fortune, had against his will more than once entered his head. For +himself personally Nicholas could not wish for a better wife: by +marrying her he would make the countess his mother happy, would be +able to put his father's affairs in order, and would even- he felt it- +ensure Princess Mary's happiness. + +But Sonya? And his plighted word? That was why Rostov grew angry +when he was rallied about Princess Bolkonskaya. + +CHAPTER XV + +On receiving command of the armies Kutuzov remembered Prince +Andrew and sent an order for him to report at headquarters. + +Prince Andrew arrived at Tsarevo-Zaymishche on the very day and at +the very hour that Kutuzov was reviewing the troops for the first +time. He stopped in the village at the priest's house in front of +which stood the commander in chief's carriage, and he sat down on +the bench at the gate awaiting his Serene Highness, as everyone now +called Kutuzov. From the field beyond the village came now sounds of +regimental music and now the roar of many voices shouting "Hurrah!" to +the new commander in chief. Two orderlies, a courier and a major-domo, +stood near by, some ten paces from Prince Andrew, availing +themselves of Kutuzov's absence and of the fine weather. A short, +swarthy lieutenant colonel of hussars with thick mustaches and +whiskers rode up to the gate and, glancing at Prince Andrew, +inquired whether his Serene Highness was putting up there and +whether he would soon be back. + +Prince Andrew replied that he was not on his Serene Highness' +staff but was himself a new arrival. The lieutenant colonel turned +to a smart orderly, who, with the peculiar contempt with which a +commander in chief's orderly speaks to officers, replied: + +"What? His Serene Highness? I expect he'll be here soon. What do you +want?" + +The lieutenant colonel of hussars smiled beneath his mustache at the +orderly's tone, dismounted, gave his horse to a dispatch runner, and +approached Bolkonski with a slight bow. Bolkonski made room for him on +the bench and the lieutenant colonel sat down beside him. + +"You're also waiting for the commander in chief?" said he. "They say +he weceives evewyone, thank God!... It's awful with those sausage +eaters! Ermolov had weason to ask to be pwomoted to be a German! Now +p'waps Wussians will get a look in. As it was, devil only knows what +was happening. We kept wetweating and wetweating. Did you take part in +the campaign?" he asked. + +"I had the pleasure," replied Prince Andrew, "not only of taking +part in the retreat but of losing in that retreat all I held dear- not +to mention the estate and home of my birth- my father, who died of +grief. I belong to the province of Smolensk." + +"Ah? You're Pwince Bolkonski? Vewy glad to make your acquaintance! +I'm Lieutenant Colonel Denisov, better known as 'Vaska,'" said +Denisov, pressing Prince Andrew's hand and looking into his face +with a particularly kindly attention. "Yes, I heard," said he +sympathetically, and after a short pause added: "Yes, it's Scythian +warfare. It's all vewy well- only not for those who get it in the +neck. So you are Pwince Andwew Bolkonski?" He swayed his head. "Vewy +pleased, Pwince, to make your acquaintance!" he repeated again, +smiling sadly, and he again pressed Prince Andrew's hand. + +Prince Andrew knew Denisov from what Natasha had told him of her +first suitor. This memory carried him sadly and sweetly back to +those painful feelings of which he had not thought lately, but which +still found place in his soul. Of late he had received so many new and +very serious impressions- such as the retreat from Smolensk, his visit +to Bald Hills, and the recent news of his father's death- and had +experienced so many emotions, that for a long time past those memories +had not entered his mind, and now that they did, they did not act on +him with nearly their former strength. For Denisov, too, the +memories awakened by the name of Bolkonski belonged to a distant, +romantic past, when after supper and after Natasha's singing he had +proposed to a little girl of fifteen without realizing what he was +doing. He smiled at the recollection of that time and of his love +for Natasha, and passed at once to what now interested him +passionately and exclusively. This was a plan of campaign he had +devised while serving at the outposts during the retreat. He had +proposed that plan to Barclay de Tolly and now wished to propose it to +Kutuzov. The plan was based on the fact that the French line of +operation was to extended, and it proposed that instead of, or +concurrently with, action on the front to bar the advance of the +French, we should attack their line of communication. He began +explaining his plan to Prince Andrew. + +"They can't hold all that line. It's impossible. I will undertake to +bweak thwough. Give me five hundwed men and I will bweak the line, +that's certain! There's only one way- guewilla warfare!" + +Denisov rose and began gesticulating as he explained his plan to +Bolkonski. In the midst of his explanation shouts were heard from +the army, growing more incoherent and more diffused, mingling with +music and songs and coming from the field where the review was held. +Sounds of hoofs and shouts were nearing the village. + +"He's coming! He's coming!" shouted a Cossack standing at the gate. + +Bolkonski and Denisov moved to the gate, at which a knot of soldiers +(a guard of honor) was standing, and they saw Kutuzov coming down +the street mounted on a rather small sorrel horse. A huge suite of +generals rode behind him. Barclay was riding almost beside him, and +a crowd of officers ran after and around them shouting, "Hurrah!" + +His adjutants galloped into the yard before him. Kutuzov was +impatiently urging on his horse, which ambled smoothly under his +weight, and he raised his hand to his white Horse Guard's cap with a +red band and no peak, nodding his head continually. When he came up to +the guard of honor, a fine set of Grenadiers mostly wearing +decorations, who were giving him the salute, he looked at them +silently and attentively for nearly a minute with the steady gaze of a +commander and then turned to the crowd of generals and officers +surrounding him. Suddenly his face assumed a subtle expression, he +shrugged his shoulders with an air of perplexity. + +"And with such fine fellows to retreat and retreat! Well, good-by, +General," he added, and rode into the yard past Prince Andrew and +Denisov. + +"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" shouted those behind him. + +Since Prince Andrew had last seen him Kutuzov had grown still more +corpulent, flaccid, and fat. But the bleached eyeball, the scar, and +the familiar weariness of his expression were still the same. He was +wearing the white Horse Guard's cap and a military overcoat with a +whip hanging over his shoulder by a thin strap. He sat heavily and +swayed limply on his brisk little horse. + +"Whew... whew... whew!" he whistled just audibly as he rode into the +yard. His face expressed the relief of relaxed strain felt by a man +who means to rest after a ceremony. He drew his left foot out of the +stirrup and, lurching with his whole body and puckering his face +with the effort, raised it with difficulty onto the saddle, leaned +on his knee, groaned, and slipped down into the arms of the Cossacks +and adjutants who stood ready to assist him. + +He pulled himself together, looked round, screwing up his eyes, +glanced at Prince Andrew, and, evidently not recognizing him, moved +with his waddling gait to the porch. "Whew... whew... whew!" he +whistled, and again glanced at Prince Andrew. As often occurs with old +men, it was only after some seconds that the impression produced by +Prince Andrew's face linked itself up with Kutuzov's remembrance of +his personality. + +"Ah, how do you do, my dear prince? How do you do, my dear boy? Come +along..." said he, glancing wearily round, and he stepped onto the +porch which creaked under his weight. + +He unbuttoned his coat and sat down on a bench in the porch. + +"And how's your father?" + +"I received news of his death, yesterday," replied Prince Andrew +abruptly. + +Kutuzov looked at him with eyes wide open with dismay and then +took off his cap and crossed himself: + +"May the kingdom of Heaven be his! God's will be done to us all!" He +sighed deeply, his whole chest heaving, and was silent for a while. "I +loved him and respected him, and sympathize with you with all my +heart." + +He embraced Prince Andrew, pressing him to his fat breast, and for +some time did not let him go. When he released him Prince Andrew saw +that Kutuzov's flabby lips were trembling and that tears were in his +eyes. He sighed and pressed on the bench with both hands to raise +himself. + +"Come! Come with me, we'll have a talk," said he. + +But at that moment Denisov, no more intimidated by his superiors +than by the enemy, came with jingling spurs up the steps of the porch, +despite the angry whispers of the adjutants who tried to stop him. +Kutuzov, his hands still pressed on the seat, glanced at him glumly. +Denisov, having given his name, announced that he had to communicate +to his Serene Highness a matter of great importance for their +country's welfare. Kutuzov looked wearily at him and, lifting his +hands with a gesture of annoyance, folded them across his stomach, +repeating the words: "For our country's welfare? Well, what is it? +Speak!" Denisov blushed like a girl (it was strange to see the color +rise in that shaggy, bibulous, time-worn face) and boldly began to +expound his plan of cutting the enemy's lines of communication between +Smolensk and Vyazma. Denisov came from those parts and knew the +country well. His plan seemed decidedly a good one, especially from +the strength of conviction with which he spoke. Kutuzov looked down at +his own legs, occasionally glancing at the door of the adjoining hut +as if expecting something unpleasant to emerge from it. And from +that hut, while Denisov was speaking, a general with a portfolio under +his arm really did appear. + +"What?" said Kutuzov, in the midst of Denisov's explanations, "are +you ready so soon?" + +"Ready, your Serene Highness," replied the general. + +Kutuzov swayed his head, as much as to say: "How is one man to +deal with it all?" and again listened to Denisov. + +"I give my word of honor as a Wussian officer," said Denisov, +"that I can bweak Napoleon's line of communication!" + +"What relation are you to Intendant General Kiril Andreevich +Denisov?" asked Kutuzov, interrupting him. + +"He is my uncle, your Sewene Highness." + +"Ah, we were friends," said Kutuzov cheerfully. "All right, all +right, friend, stay here at the staff and tomorrow we'll have a talk." + +With a nod to Denisov he turned away and put out his hand for the +papers Konovnitsyn had brought him. + +"Would not your Serene Highness like to come inside?" said the +general on duty in a discontented voice, "the plans must be examined +and several papers have to be signed." + +An adjutant came out and announced that everything was in +readiness within. But Kutuzov evidently did not wish to enter that +room till he was disengaged. He made a grimace... + +"No, tell them to bring a small table out here, my dear boy. I'll +look at them here," said he. "Don't go away," he added, turning to +Prince Andrew, who remained in the porch and listened to the general's +report. + +While this was being given, Prince Andrew heard the whisper of a +woman's voice and the rustle of a silk dress behind the door. +Several times on glancing that way he noticed behind that door a +plump, rosy, handsome woman in a pink dress with a lilac silk kerchief +on her head, holding a dish and evidently awaiting the entrance of the +commander in chief. Kutiizov's adjutant whispered to Prince Andrew +that this was the wife of the priest whose home it was, and that she +intended to offer his Serene Highness bread and salt. "Her husband has +welcomed his Serene Highness with the cross at the church, and she +intends to welcome him in the house.... She's very pretty," added +the adjutant with a smile. At those words Kutuzov looked round. He was +listening to the general's report- which consisted chiefly of a +criticism of the position at Tsarevo-Zaymishche- as he had listened to +Denisov, and seven years previously had listened to the discussion +at the Austerlitz council of war. He evidently listened only because +he had ears which, though there was a piece of tow in one of them, +could not help hearing; but it was evident that nothing the general +could say would surprise or even interest him, that he knew all that +would be said beforehand, and heard it all only because he had to, +as one has to listen to the chanting of a service of prayer. All +that Denisov had said was clever and to the point. What the general +was saying was even more clever and to the point, but it was evident +that Kutuzov despised knowledge and cleverness, and knew of +something else that would decide the matter- something independent +of clever. ness and knowledge. Prince Andrew watched the commander +in chief's face attentively, and the only expression he could see +there was one of boredom, curiosity as to the meaning of the +feminine whispering behind the door, and a desire to observe +propriety. It was evident that Kutuzov despised cleverness and +learning and even the patriotic feeling shown by Denisov, but despised +them not because of his own intellect, feelings, or knowledge- he +did not try to display any of these- but because of something else. He +despised them because of his old age and experience of life. The +only instruction Kutuzov gave of his own accord during that report +referred to looting by the Russian troops. At the end of the report +the general put before him for signature a paper relating to the +recovery of payment from army commanders for green oats mown down by +the soldiers, when landowners lodged petitions for compensation. + +After hearing the matter, Kutuzov smacked his lips together and +shook his head. + +"Into the stove... into the fire with it! I tell you once for all, +my dear fellow," said he, "into the fire with all such things! Let +them cut the crops and burn wood to their hearts' content. I don't +order it or allow it, but I don't exact compensation either. One can't +get on without it. 'When wood is chopped the chips will fly.'" He +looked at the paper again. "Oh, this German precision!" he muttered, +shaking his head. + +CHAPTER XVI + +"Well, that's all!" said Kutuzov as he signed the last of the +documents, and rising heavily and smoothing out the folds in his fat +white neck he moved toward the door with a more cheerful expression. + +The priest's wife, flushing rosy red, caught up the dish she had +after all not managed to present at the right moment, though she had +so long been preparing for it, and with a low bow offered it to +Kutuzov. + +He screwed up his eyes, smiled, lifted her chin with his hand, and +said: + +"Ah, what a beauty! Thank you, sweetheart!" + +He took some gold pieces from his trouser pocket and put them on the +dish for her. "Well, my dear, and how are we getting on?" he asked, +moving to the door of the room assigned to him. The priest's wife +smiled, and with dimples in her rosy cheeks followed him into the +room. The adjutant came out to the porch and asked Prince Andrew to +lunch with him. Half an hour later Prince Andrew was again called to +Kutuzov. He found him reclining in an armchair, still in the same +unbuttoned overcoat. He had in his hand a French book which he +closed as Prince Andrew entered, marking the place with a knife. +Prince Andrew saw by the cover that it was Les Chevaliers du Cygne +by Madame de Genlis. + +"Well, sit down, sit down here. Let's have a talk," said Kutuzov. +"It's sad, very sad. But remember, my dear fellow, that I am a +father to you, a second father...." + +Prince Andrew told Kutuzov all he knew of his father's death, and +what he had seen at Bald Hills when he passed through it. + +"What... what they have brought us to!" Kutuzov suddenly cried in an +agitated voice, evidently picturing vividly to himself from Prince +Andrew's story the condition Russia was in. "But give me time, give me +time!" he said with a grim look, evidently not wishing to continue +this agitating conversation, and added: "I sent for you to keep you +with me." + +"I thank your Serene Highness, but I fear I am longer fit for the +staff," replied Prince Andrew with a smile which Kutuzov noticed. + +Kutuzov glanced inquiringly at him. + +"But above all," added Prince Andrew, "I have grown used to my +regiment, am fond of the officers, and I fancy the men also like me. I +should be sorry to leave the regiment. If I decline the honor of being +with you, believe me..." + +A shrewd, kindly, yet subtly derisive expression lit up Kutuzov's +podgy face. He cut Bolkonski short. + +"I am sorry, for I need you. But you're right, you're right! It's +not here that men are needed. Advisers are always plentiful, but men +are not. The regiments would not be what they are if the would-be +advisers served there as you do. I remember you at Austerlitz.... I +remember, yes, I remember you with the standard!" said Kutuzov, and +a flush of pleasure suffused Prince Andrew's face at this +recollection. + +Taking his hand and drawing him downwards, Kutuzov offered his cheek +to be kissed, and again Prince Andrew noticed tears in the old man's +eyes. Though Prince Andrew knew that Kutuzov's tears came easily, +and that he was particularly tender to and considerate of him from a +wish to show sympathy with his loss, yet this reminder of Austerlitz +was both pleasant and flattering to him. + +"Go your way and God be with you. I know your path is the path of +honor!" He paused. "I missed you at Bucharest, but I needed someone to +send." And changing the subject, Kutuzov began to speak of the Turkish +war and the peace that had been concluded. "Yes, I have been much +blamed," he said, "both for that war and the peace... but everything +came at the right time. Tout vient a point a celui qui sait attendre.~^ +And there were as many advisers there as here..." he went on, +returning to the subject of "advisers" which evidently occupied him. +"Ah, those advisers!" said he. "If we had listened to them all we +should not have made peace with Turkey and should not have been +through with that war. Everything in haste, but more haste, less +speed. Kamenski would have been lost if he had not died. He stormed +fortresses with thirty thousand men. It is not difficult to capture +a fortress but it is difficult to win a campaign. For that, storming +and attacking but patience and time are wanted. Kamenski sent soldiers +to Rustchuk, but I only employed these two things and took more +fortresses than Kamenski and made the but eat horseflesh!" He swayed +his head. "And the French shall too, believe me," he went on, +growing warmer and beating his chest, "I'll make them eat horseflesh!" +And tears again dimmed his eyes. + +^~ "Everything comes in time to him who knows how to wait." + +"But shan't we have to accept battle?" remarked Prince Andrew. + +"We shall if everybody wants it; it can't be helped.... But +believe me, my dear boy, there is nothing stronger than those two: +patience and time, they will do it all. But the advisers n'entendent +pas de cette oreille, voila le mal.~^ Some want a thing- others +don't. What's one to do?" he asked, evidently expecting an answer. +"Well, what do you want us to do?" he repeated and his eye shone +with a deep, shrewd look. "I'll tell you what to do," he continued, as +Prince Andrew still did not reply: "I will tell you what to do, and +what I do. Dans le doute, mon cher," he paused, "abstiens-toi"~^ he +articulated the French proverb deliberately. + +^~ "Don't see it that way, that's the trouble." + +^~ "When in doubt, my dear fellow, do nothing." + +"Well, good-by, my dear fellow; remember that with all my heart I +share your sorrow, and that for you I am not a Serene Highness, nor +a prince, nor a commander in chief, but a father! If you want anything +come straight to me. Good-by, my dear boy." + +Again he embraced and kissed Prince Andrew, but before the latter +had left the room Kutuzov gave a sigh of relief and went on with his +unfinished novel, Les Chevaliers du Cygne by Madame de Genlis. + +Prince Andrew could not have explained how or why it was, but +after that interview with Kutuzov he went back to his regiment +reassured as to the general course of affairs and as to the man to +whom it had been entrusted. The more he realized the absence of all +personal motive in that old man- in whom there seemed to remain only +the habit of passions, and in place of an intellect (grouping events +and drawing conclusions) only the capacity calmly to contemplate the +course of events- the more reassured he was that everything would be +as it should. "He will not bring in any plan of his own. He will not +devise or undertake anything," thought Prince Andrew, "but he will +hear everything, remember everything, and put everything in its place. +He will not hinder anything useful nor allow anything harmful. He +understands that there is something stronger and more important than +his own will- the inevitable course of events, and he can see them and +grasp their significance, and seeing that significance can refrain +from meddling and renounce his personal wish directed to something +else. And above all," thought Prince Andrew, "one believes in him +because he's Russian, despite the novel by Genlis and the French +proverbs, and because his voice shook when he said: 'What they have +brought us to!' and had a sob in it when he said he would 'make them +eat horseflesh!'" + +On such feelings, more or less dimly shared by all, the unanimity +and general approval were founded with which, despite court +influences, the popular choice of Kutuzov as commander in chief was +received. + +CHAPTER XVII + +After the Emperor had left Moscow, life flowed on there in its usual +course, and its course was so very usual that it was difficult to +remember the recent days of patriotic elation and ardor, hard to +believe that Russia was really in danger and that the members of the +English Club were also sons of the Fatherland ready to sacrifice +everything for it. The one thing that recalled the patriotic fervor +everyone had displayed during the Emperor's stay was the call for +contributions of men and money, a necessity that as soon as the +promises had been made assumed a legal, official form and became +unavoidable. + +With the enemy's approach to Moscow, the Moscovites' view of their +situation did not grow more serious but on the contrary became even +more frivolous, as always happens with people who see a great danger +approaching. At the approach of danger there are always two voices +that speak with equal power in the human soul: one very reasonably +tells a man to consider the nature of the danger and the means of +escaping it; the other, still more reasonably, says that it is too +depressing and painful to think of the danger, since it is not in +man's power to foresee everything and avert the general course of +events, and it is therefore better to disregard what is painful till +it comes, and to think about what is pleasant. In solitude a man +generally listens to the first voice, but in society to the second. So +it was now with the inhabitants of Moscow. It was long since people +had been as gay in Moscow as that year. + +Rostopchin's broadsheets, headed by woodcuts of a drink shop, a +potman, and a Moscow burgher called Karpushka Chigirin, "who- having +been a militiaman and having had rather too much at the pub- heard +that Napoleon wished to come to Moscow, grew angry, abused the +French in very bad language, came out of the drink shop, and, under +the sign of the eagle, began to address the assembled people," were +read and discussed, together with the latest of Vasili Lvovich +Pushkin's bouts rimes. + +In the corner room at the Club, members gathered to read these +broadsheets, and some liked the way Karpushka jeered at the French, +saying: "They will swell up with Russian cabbage, burst with our +buckwheat porridge, and choke themselves with cabbage soup. They are +all dwarfs and one peasant woman will toss three of them with a +hayfork." Others did not like that tone and said it was stupid and +vulgar. It was said that Rostopchin had expelled all Frenchmen and +even all foreigners from Moscow, and that there had been some spies +and agents of Napoleon among them; but this was told chiefly to +introduce Rostopchin's witty remark on that occasion. The foreigners +were deported to Nizhni by boat, and Rostopchin had said to them in +French: "Rentrez en vousmemes; entrez dans la barque, et n'en faites +pas une barque de Charon."~^ There was talk of all the government +offices having been already removed from Moscow, and to this +Shinshin's witticism was added- that for that alone Moscow ought to be +grateful to Napoleon. It was said that Mamonov's regiment would cost +him eight hundred thousand rubles, and that Bezukhov had spent even +more on his, but that the best thing about Bezukhov's action was +that he himself was going to don a uniform and ride at the head of his +regiment without charging anything for the show. + +^~ "Think it over; get into the barque, and take care not to make it a +barque of Charon." + +"You don't spare anyone," said Julie Drubetskaya as she collected +and pressed together a bunch of raveled lint with her thin, beringed +fingers. + +Julie was preparing to leave Moscow next day and was giving a +farewell soiree. + +"Bezukhov est ridicule, but he is so kind and good-natured. What +pleasure is there to be so caustique?" + +"A forfeit!" cried a young man in militia uniform whom Julie +called "mon chevalier," and who was going with her to Nizhni. + +In Julie's set, as in many other circles in Moscow, it had been +agreed that they would speak nothing but Russian and that those who +made a slip and spoke French should pay fines to the Committee of +Voluntary Contributions. + +"Another forfeit for a Gallicism," said a Russian writer who was +present. "'What pleasure is there to be' is not Russian!" + +"You spare no one," continued Julie to the young man without heeding +the author's remark. + +"For caustique- I am guilty and will pay, and I am prepared to pay +again for the pleasure of telling you the truth. For Gallicisms I +won't be responsible," she remarked, turning to the author: "I have +neither the money nor the time, like Prince Galitsyn, to engage a +master to teach me Russian!" + +"Ah, here he is!" she added. "Quand on... No, no," she said to the +militia officer, "you won't catch me. Speak of the sun and you see its +rays!" and she smiled amiably at Pierre. "We were just talking of +you," she said with the facility in lying natural to a society +woman. "We were saying that your regiment would be sure to be better +than Mamonov's." + +"Oh, don't talk to me of my regiment," replied Pierre, kissing his +hostess' hand and taking a seat beside her. "I am so sick of it." + +"You will, of course, command it yourself?" said Julie, directing +a sly, sarcastic glance toward the militia officer. + +The latter in Pierre's presence had ceased to be caustic, and his +face expressed perplexity as to what Julie's smile might mean. In +spite of his absent-mindedness and good nature, Pierre's personality +immediately checked any attempt to ridicule him to his face. + +"No," said Pierre, with a laughing glance at his big, stout body. "I +should make too good a target for the French, besides I am afraid I +should hardly be able to climb onto a horse." + +Among those whom Julie's guests happened to choose to gossip about +were the Rostovs. + +"I hear that their affairs are in a very bad way," said Julie. +"And he is so unreasonable, the count himself I mean. The +Razumovskis wanted to buy his house and his estate near Moscow, but it +drags on and on. He asks too much." + +"No, I think the sale will come off in a few days," said someone. +"Though it is madness to buy anything in Moscow now." + +"Why?" asked Julie. "You don't think Moscow is in danger?" + +"Then why are you leaving?" + +"I? What a question! I am going because... well, because everyone is +going: and besides- I am not Joan of Arc or an Amazon." + +"Well, of course, of course! Let me have some more strips of linen." + +"If he manages the business properly he will be able to pay off +all his debts," said the militia officer, speaking of Rostov. + +"A kindly old man but not up to much. And why do they stay on so +long in Moscow? They meant to leave for the country long ago. +Natalie is quite well again now, isn't she?" Julie asked Pierre with a +knowing smile. + +"They are waiting for their younger son," Pierre replied. "He joined +Obolenski's Cossacks and went to Belaya Tserkov where the regiment +is being formed. But now they have had him transferred to my +regiment and are expecting him every day. The count wanted to leave +long ago, but the countess won't on any account leave Moscow till +her son returns." + +"I met them the day before yesterday at the Arkharovs'. Natalie +has recovered her looks and is brighter. She sang a song. How easily +some people get over everything!" + +"Get over what?" inquired Pierre, looking displeased. + +Julie smiled. + +"You know, Count, such knights as you are only found in Madame de +Souza's novels." + +"What knights? What do you mean?" demanded Pierre, blushing. + +"Oh, come, my dear count! C'est la fable de tout Moscou. Je vous +admire, ma parole d'honneur!"~^ + +^~ "It is the talk of all Moscow. My word, I admire you!" + +"Forfeit, forfeit!" cried the militia officer. + +"All right, one can't talk- how tiresome!" + +"What is 'the talk of all Moscow'?" Pierre asked angrily, rising +to his feet. + +"Come now, Count, you know!" + +"I don't know anything about it," said Pierre. + +"I know you were friendly with Natalie, and so... but I was always +more friendly with Vera- that dear Vera." + +"No, madame!" Pierre continued in a tone of displeasure, "I have not +taken on myself the role of Natalie Rostova's knight at all, and +have not been their house for nearly a month. But I cannot +understand the cruelty..." + +"Qui s'excuse s'accuse,"~^ said Julie, smiling and waving the lint +triumphantly, and to have the last word she promptly changed the +subject. "Do you know what I heard today? Poor Mary Bolkonskaya +arrived in Moscow yesterday. Do you know that she has lost her +father?" + +^~ "Who excuses himself, accuses himself." + +"Really? Where is she? I should like very much to see her," said +Pierre. + +"I spent the evening with her yesterday. She is going to their +estate near Moscow either today or tomorrow morning, with her nephew." + +"Well, and how is she?" asked Pierre. + +"She is well, but sad. But do you know who rescued her? It is +quite a romance. Nicholas Rostov! She was surrounded, and they +wanted to kill her and had wounded some of her people. He rushed in +and saved her...." + +"Another romance," said the militia officer. "Really, this general +flight has been arranged to get all the old maids married off. Catiche +is one and Princess Bolkonskaya another." + +"Do you know, I really believe she is un petit peu amoureuse du +jeune homme."~^ + +^~ "A little bit in love with the young man." + +"Forfeit, forfeit, forfeit!" + +"But how could one say that in Russian?" + +CHAPTER XVIII + +When Pierre returned home he was handed two of Rostopchin's +broadsheets that had been brought that day. + +The first declared that the report that Count Rostopchin had +forbidden people to leave Moscow was false; on the contrary he was +glad that ladies and tradesmen's wives were leaving the city. "There +will be less panic and less gossip," ran the broadsheet "but I will +stake my life on it that that will not enter Moscow." These words +showed Pierre clearly for the first time that the French would enter +Moscow. The second broadsheet stated that our headquarters were at +Vyazma, that Count Wittgenstein had defeated the French, but that as +many of the inhabitants of Moscow wished to be armed, weapons were +ready for them at the arsenal: sabers, pistols, and muskets which +could be had at a low price. The tone of the proclamation was not as +jocose as in the former Chigirin talks. Pierre pondered over these +broadsheets. Evidently the terrible stormcloud he had desired with the +whole strength of his soul but which yet aroused involuntary horror in +him was drawing near. + +"Shall I join the army and enter the service, or wait?" he asked +himself for the hundredth time. He took a pack of cards that lay on +the table and began to lay them out for a game of patience. + +"If this patience comes out," he said to himself after shuffling the +cards, holding them in his hand, and lifting his head, "if it comes +out, it means... what does it mean?" + +He had not decided what it should mean when he heard the voice of +the eldest princess at the door asking whether she might come in. + +"Then it will mean that I must go to the army," said Pierre to +himself. "Come in, come in!" he added to the princess. + +Only the eldest princess, the one with the stony face and long +waist, was still living in Pierre's house. The two younger ones had +both married. + +"Excuse my coming to you, cousin," she said in a reproachful and +agitated voice. "You know some decision must be come to. What is going +to happen? Everyone has left Moscow and the people are rioting. How is +it that we are staying on?" + +"On the contrary, things seem satisfactory, ma cousine," said Pierre +in the bantering tone he habitually adopted toward her, always feeling +uncomfortable in the role of her benefactor. + +"Satisfactory, indeed! Very satisfactory! Barbara Ivanovna told me +today how our troops are distinguishing themselves. It certainly +does them credit! And the people too are quite mutinous- they no +longer obey, even my maid has taken to being rude. At this rate they +will soon begin beating us. One can't walk in the streets. But, +above all, the French will be here any day now, so what are we waiting +for? I ask just one thing of you, cousin," she went on, "arrange for +me to be taken to Petersburg. Whatever I may be, I can't live under +Bonaparte's rule." + +"Oh, come, ma cousine! Where do you get your information from? On +the contrary..." + +"I won't submit to your Napoleon! Others may if they please.... If +you don't want to do this..." + +"But I will, I'll give the order at once." + +The princess was apparently vexed at not having anyone to be angry +with. Muttering to herself, she sat down on a chair. + +"But you have been misinformed," said Pierre. "Everything is quiet +in the city and there is not the slightest danger. See! I've just been +reading..." He showed her the broadsheet. "Count Rostopchin writes +that he will stake his life on it that the enemy will not enter +Moscow." + +"Oh, that count of yours!" said the princess malevolently. "He is +a hypocrite, a rascal who has himself roused the people to riot. +Didn't he write in those idiotic broadsheets that anyone, 'whoever +it might be, should be dragged to the lockup by his hair'? (How +silly!) 'And honor and glory to whoever captures him,' he says. This +is what his cajolery has brought us to! Barbara Ivanovna told me the +mob near killed her because she said something in French." + +"Oh, but it's so... You take everything so to heart," said Pierre, +and began laying out his cards for patience. + +Although that patience did come out, Pierre did not join the army, +but remained in deserted Moscow ever in the same state of agitation, +irresolution, and alarm, yet at the same time joyfully expecting +something terrible. + +Next day toward evening the princess set off, and Pierre's head +steward came to inform him that the money needed for the equipment +of his regiment could not be found without selling one of the estates. +In general the head steward made out to Pierre that his project of +raising a regiment would ruin him. Pierre listened to him, scarcely +able to repress a smile. + +"Well then, sell it," said he. "What's to be done? I can't draw back +now!" + +The worse everything became, especially his own affairs, the +better was Pierre pleased and the more evident was it that the +catastrophe he expected was approaching. Hardly anyone he knew was +left in town. Julie had gone, and so had Princess Mary. Of his +intimate friends only the Rostovs remained, but he did not go to see +them. + +To distract his thoughts he drove that day to the village of +Vorontsovo to see the great balloon Leppich was constructing to +destroy the foe, and a trial balloon that was to go up next day. The +balloon was not yet ready, but Pierre learned that it was being +constructed by the Emperor's desire. The Emperor had written to +Count Rostopchin as follows: + +As soon as Leppich is ready, get together a crew of reliable and +intelligent men for his car and send a courier to General Kutuzov to +let him know. I have informed him of the matter. + +Please impress upon Leppich to be very careful where he descends for +the first time, that he may not make a mistake and fall into the +enemy's hands. It is essential for him to combine his movements with +those of the commander in chief. + +On his way home from Vorontsovo, as he was passing the Bolotnoe +Place Pierre, seeing a large crowd round the Lobnoe Place, stopped and +got out of his trap. A French cook accused of being a spy was being +flogged. The flogging was only just over, and the executioner was +releasing from the flogging bench a stout man with red whiskers, in +blue stockings and a green jacket, who was moaning piteously. +Another criminal, thin and pale, stood near. Judging by their faces +they were both Frenchmen. With a frightened and suffering look +resembling that on the thin Frenchman's face, Pierre pushed his way in +through the crowd. + +"What is it? Who is it? What is it for?" he kept asking. + +But the attention of the crowd- officials, burghers, shopkeepers, +peasants, and women in cloaks and in pelisses- was so eagerly centered +on what was passing in Lobnoe Place that no one answered him. The +stout man rose, frowned, shrugged his shoulders, and evidently +trying to appear firm began to pull on his jacket without looking +about him, but suddenly his lips trembled and he began to cry, in +the way full-blooded grown-up men cry, though angry with himself for +doing so. In the crowd people began talking loudly, to stifle their +feelings of pity as it seemed to Pierre. + +"He's cook to some prince." + +"Eh, mounseer, Russian sauce seems to be sour to a Frenchman... sets +his teeth on edge!" said a wrinkled clerk who was standing behind +Pierre, when the Frenchman began to cry. + +The clerk glanced round, evidently hoping that his joke would be +appreciated. Some people began to laugh, others continued to watch +in dismay the executioner who was undressing the other man. + +Pierre choked, his face puckered, and he turned hastily away, went +back to his trap muttering something to himself as he went, and took +his seat. As they drove along he shuddered and exclaimed several times +so audibly that the coachman asked him: + +"What is your pleasure?" + +"Where are you going?" shouted Pierre to the man, who was driving to +Lubyanka Street. + +"To the Governor's, as you ordered," answered the coachman. + +"Fool! Idiot!" shouted Pierre, abusing his coachman- a thing he +rarely did. "Home, I told you! And drive faster, blockhead!" "I must +get away this very day," he murmured to himself. + +At the sight of the tortured Frenchman and the crowd surrounding the +Lobnoe Place, Pierre had so definitely made up his mind that he +could no longer remain in Moscow and would leave for the army that +very day that it seemed to him that either he had told the coachman +this or that the man ought to have known it for himself. + +On reaching home Pierre gave orders to Evstafey- his head coachman +who knew everything, could do anything, and was known to all Moscow- +that he would leave that night for the army at Mozhaysk, and that +his saddle horses should be sent there. This could not all be arranged +that day, so on Evstafey's representation Pierre had to put off his +departure till next day to allow time for the relay horses to be +sent on in advance. + +On the twenty-fourth the weather cleared up after a spell of rain, +and after dinner Pierre left Moscow. When changing horses that night +in Perkhushkovo, he learned that there had been a great battle that +evening. (This was the battle of Shevardino.) He was told that there +in Perkhushkovo the earth trembled from the firing, but nobody could +answer his questions as to who had won. At dawn next day Pierre was +approaching Mozhaysk. + +Every house in Mozhaysk had soldiers quartered in it, and at the +hostel where Pierre was met by his groom and coachman there was no +room to be had. It was full of officers. + +Everywhere in Mozhaysk and beyond it, troops were stationed or on +the march. Cossacks, foot and horse soldiers, wagons, caissons, and +cannon were everywhere. Pierre pushed forward as fast as he could, and +the farther he left Moscow behind and the deeper he plunged into +that sea of troops the more was he overcome by restless agitation +and a new and joyful feeling he had not experienced before. It was a +feeling akin to what he had felt at the Sloboda Palace during the +Emperor's visit- a sense of the necessity of undertaking something and +sacrificing something. He now experienced a glad consciousness that +everything that constitutes men's happiness- the comforts of life, +wealth, even life itself- is rubbish it is pleasant to throw away, +compared with something... With what? Pierre could not say, and he did +not try to determine for whom and for what he felt such particular +delight in sacrificing everything. He was not occupied with the +question of what to sacrifice for; the fact of sacrificing in itself +afforded him a new and joyous sensation. + +CHAPTER XIX + +On the twenty-fourth of August the battle of the Shevardino +Redoubt was fought, on the twenty-fifth not a shot was fired by either +side, and on the twenty-sixth the battle of Borodino itself took +place. + +Why and how were the battles of Shevardino and Borodino given and +accepted? Why was the battle of Borodino fought? There was not the +least sense in it for either the French or the Russians. Its immediate +result for the Russians was, and was bound to be, that we were brought +nearer to the destruction of Moscow- which we feared more than +anything in the world; and for the French its immediate result was +that they were brought nearer to the destruction of their whole +army- which they feared more than anything in the world. What the +result must be was quite obvious, and yet Napoleon offered and Kutuzov +accepted that battle. + +If the commanders had been guided by reason, it would seem that it +must have been obvious to Napoleon that by advancing thirteen +hundred miles and giving battle with a probability of losing a quarter +of his army, he was advancing to certain destruction, and it must have +been equally clear to Kutuzov that by accepting battle and risking the +loss of a quarter of his army he would certainly lose Moscow. For +Kutuzov this was mathematically clear, as it is that if when playing +draughts I have one man less and go on exchanging, I shall certainly +lose, and therefore should not exchange. When my opponent has +sixteen men and I have fourteen, I am only one eighth weaker than +he, but when I have exchanged thirteen more men he will be three times +as strong as I am. + +Before the battle of Borodino our strength in proportion to the +French was about as five to six, but after that battle it was little +more than one to two: previously we had a hundred thousand against a +hundred and twenty thousand; afterwards little more than fifty +thousand against a hundred thousand. Yet the shrewd and experienced +Kutuzov accepted the battle, while Napoleon, who was said to be a +commander of genius, gave it, losing a quarter of his army and +lengthening his lines of communication still more. If it is said +that he expected to end the campaign by occupying Moscow as he had +ended a previous campaign by occupying Vienna, there is much +evidence to the contrary. Napoleon's historians themselves tell us +that from Smolensk onwards he wished to stop, knew the danger of his +extended position, and knew that the occupation of Moscow would not be +the end of the campaign, for he had seen at Smolensk the state in +which Russian towns were left to him, and had not received a single +reply to his repeated announcements of his wish to negotiate. + +In giving and accepting battle at Borodino, Kutuzov acted +involuntarily and irrationally. But later on, to fit what had +occurred, the historians provided cunningly devised evidence of the +foresight and genius the generals who, of all the blind tools of +history were the most enslaved and involuntary. + +The ancients have left us model heroic poems in which the heroes +furnish the whole interest of the story, and we are still unable to +accustom ourselves to the fact that for our epoch histories of that +kind are meaningless. + +On the other question, how the battle of Borodino and the +preceding battle of Shevardino were fought, there also exists a +definite and well-known, but quite false, conception. All the +historians describe the affair as follows: + +The Russian army, they say, in its retreat from Smolensk sought +out for itself the best position for a general engagement and found +such a position at Borodino. + +The Russians, they say, fortified this position in advance on the +left of the highroad (from Moscow to Smolensk) and almost at a right +angle to it, from Borodino to Utitsa, at the very place where the +battle was fought. + +In front of this position, they say, a fortified outpost was set +up on the Shevardino mound to observe the enemy. On the twenty-fourth, +we are told, Napoleon attacked this advanced post and took it, and, on +the twenty-sixth, attacked the whole Russian army, which was in +position on the field of Borodino. + +So the histories say, and it is all quite wrong, as anyone who cares +to look into the matter can easily convince himself. + +The Russians did not seek out the best position but, on the +contrary, during the retreat passed many positions better than +Borodino. They did not stop at any one of these positions because +Kutuzov did not wish to occupy a position he had not himself chosen, +because the popular demand for a battle had not yet expressed itself +strongly enough, and because Miloradovich had not yet arrived with the +militia, and for many other reasons. The fact is that other +positions they had passed were stronger, and that the position at +Borodino (the one where the battle was fought), far from being strong, +was no more a position than any other spot one might find in the +Russian Empire by sticking a pin into the map at hazard. + +Not only did the Russians not fortify the position on the field of +Borodino to the left of, and at a right angle to, the highroad (that +is, the position on which the battle took place), but never till the +twenty-fifth of August, 1812, did they think that a battle might be +fought there. This was shown first by the fact that there were no +entrenchments there by the twenty fifth and that those begun on the +twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth were not completed, and secondly, by the +position of the Shevardino Redoubt. That redoubt was quite senseless +in front of the position where the battle was accepted. Why was it +more strongly fortified than any other post? And why were all +efforts exhausted and six thousand men sacrificed to defend it till +late at night on the twenty-fourth? A Cossack patrol would have +sufficed to observe the enemy. Thirdly, as proof that the position +on which the battle was fought had not been foreseen and that the +Shevardino Redoubt was not an advanced post of that position, we +have the fact that up to the twenty-fifth, Barclay de Tolly and +Bagration were convinced that the Shevardino Redoubt was the left +flank of the position, and that Kutuzov himself in his report, written +in hot haste after the battle, speaks of the Shevardino Redoubt as the +left flank of the position. It was much later, when reports on the +battle of Borodino were written at leisure, that the incorrect and +extraordinary statement was invented (probably to justify the mistakes +of a commander in chief who had to be represented as infallible) +that the Shevardino Redoubt was an advanced post- whereas in reality +it was simply a fortified point on the left flank- and that the battle +of Borodino was fought by us on an entrenched position previously +selected, where as it was fought on a quite unexpected spot which +was almost unentrenched. + +The case was evidently this: a position was selected along the river +Kolocha- which crosses the highroad not at a right angle but at an +acute angle- so that the left flank was at Shevardino, the right flank +near the village of Novoe, and the center at Borodino at the +confluence of the rivers Kolocha and Voyna. + +To anyone who looks at the field of Borodino without thinking of how +the battle was actually fought, this position, protected by the +river Kolocha, presents itself as obvious for an army whose object was +to prevent an enemy from advancing along the Smolensk road to Moscow. + +Napoleon, riding to Valuevo on the twenty-fourth, did not see (as +the history books say he did) the position of the Russians from Utitsa +to Borodino (he could not have seen that position because it did not +exist), nor did he see an advanced post of the Russian army, but while +pursuing the Russian rearguard he came upon the left flank of the +Russian position- at the Shevardino Redoubt- and unexpectedly for +the Russians moved his army across the Kolocha. And the Russians, +not having time to begin a general engagement, withdrew their left +wing from the position they had intended to occupy and took up a new +position which had not been foreseen and was not fortified. By +crossing to the other side of the Kolocha to the left of the highroad, +Napoleon shifted the whole forthcoming battle from right to left +(looking from the Russian side) and transferred it to the plain +between Utitsa, Semenovsk, and Borodino- a plain no more +advantageous as a position than any other plain in Russia- and there +the whole battle of the twenty-sixth of August took place. + +Had Napoleon not ridden out on the evening of the twenty-fourth to +the Kolocha, and had he not then ordered an immediate attack on the +redoubt but had begun the attack next morning, no one would have +doubted that the Shevardino Redoubt was the left flank of our and +the battle would have taken place where we expected it. In that case +we should probably have defended the Shevardino Redoubt- our left +flank- still more obstinately. We should have attacked Napoleon in the +center or on the right, and the engagement would have taken place on +the twenty-fifth, in the position we intended and had fortified. But +as the attack on our left flank took place in the evening after the +retreat of our rea guard (that is, immediately after the fight at +Gridneva), and as the Russian commanders did not wish, or were not +in time, to begin a general engagement then on the evening of the +twenty-fourth, the first and chief action of the battle of Borodino +was already lost on the twenty-fourth, and obviously led to the loss +of the one fought on the twenty-sixth. + +After the loss of the Shevardino Redoubt, we found ourselves on +the morning of the twenty-fifth without a position for our left flank, +and were forced to bend it back and hastily entrench it where it +chanced to be. + +Not only was the Russian army on the twenty-sixth defended by +weak, unfinished entrenchments, but the disadvantage of that +position was increased by the fact that the Russian commanders- not +having fully realized what had happened, namely the loss of our +position on the left flank and the shifting of the whole field of +the forthcoming battle from right to left- maintained their extended +position from the village of Novoe to Utitsa, and consequently had +to move their forces from right to left during the battle. So it +happened that throughout the whole battle the Russians opposed the +entire French army launched against our left flank with but half as +many men. (Poniatowski's action against Utitsa, and Uvarov's on the +right flank against the French, were actions distinct from the main +course of the battle.) So the battle of Borodino did not take place at +all as (in an effort to conceal our commanders' mistakes even at the +cost of diminishing the glory due to the Russian army and people) it +has been described. The battle of Borodino was not fought on a +chosen and entrenched position with forces only slightly weaker than +those of the enemy, but, as a result of the loss of the Shevardino +Redoubt, the Russians fought the battle of Borodino on an open and +almost unentrenched position, with forces only half as numerous as the +French; that is to say, under conditions in which it was not merely +unthinkable to fight for ten hours and secure an indecisive result, +but unthinkable to keep an army even from complete disintegration +and flight. + +CHAPTER XX + +On the morning of the twenty-fifth Pierre was leaving Mozhaysk. At +the descent of the high steep hill, down which a winding road led +out of the town past the cathedral on the right, where a service was +being held and the bells were ringing, Pierre got out of his vehicle +and proceeded on foot. Behind him a cavalry regiment was coming down +the hill preceded by its singers. Coming up toward him was a train +of carts carrying men who had been wounded in the engagement the day +before. The peasant drivers, shouting and lashing their horses, kept +crossing from side to side. The carts, in each of which three or +four wounded soldiers were lying or sitting, jolted over the stones +that had been thrown on the steep incline to make it something like +a road. The wounded, bandaged with rags, with pale cheeks, +compressed lips, and knitted brows, held on to the sides of the +carts as they were jolted against one another. Almost all of them +stared with naive, childlike curiosity at Pierre's white hat and green +swallow-tail coat. + +Pierre's coachman shouted angrily at the convoy of wounded to keep +to one side of the road. The cavalry regiment, as it descended the +hill with its singers, surrounded Pierre's carriage and blocked the +road. Pierre stopped, being pressed against the side of the cutting in +which the road ran. The sunshine from behind the hill did not +penetrate into the cutting and there it was cold and damp, but above +Pierre's head was the bright August sunshine and the bells sounded +merrily. One of the carts with wounded stopped by the side of the road +close to Pierre. The driver in his bast shoes ran panting up to it, +placed a stone under one of its tireless hind wheels, and began +arranging the breech-band on his little horse. + +One of the wounded, an old soldier with a bandaged arm who was +following the cart on foot, caught hold of it with his sound hand +and turned to look at Pierre. + +"I say, fellow countryman! Will they set us down here or take us +on to Moscow?" he asked. + +Pierre was so deep in thought that he did not hear the question. +He was looking now at the cavalry regiment that had met the convoy +of wounded, now at the cart by which he was standing, in which two +wounded men were sitting and one was lying. One of those sitting up in +the cart had probably been wounded in the cheek. His whole head was +wrapped in rags and one cheek was swollen to the size of a baby's +head. His nose and mouth were twisted to one side. This soldier was +looking at the cathedral and crossing himself. Another, a young lad, a +fair-haired recruit as white as though there was no blood in his +thin face, looked at Pierre kindly, with a fixed smile. The third +lay prone so that his face was not visible. The cavalry singers were +passing close by: + +_1 Ah lost, quite lost... is my head so keen,<br> +Living in a foreign land. + +they sang their soldiers' dance song. + +As if responding to them but with a different sort of merriment, the +metallic sound of the bells reverberated high above and the hot rays +of the sun bathed the top of the opposite slope with yet another +sort of merriment. But beneath the slope, by the cart with the wounded +near the panting little nag where Pierre stood, it was damp, somber, +and sad. + +The soldier with the swollen cheek looked angrily at the cavalry +singers. + +"Oh, the coxcombs!" he muttered reproachfully. + +"It's not the soldiers only, but I've seen peasants today, too.... +The peasants- even they have to go," said the soldier behind the cart, +addressing Pierre with a sad smile. "No distinctions made nowadays.... +They want the whole nation to fall on them- in a word, it's Moscow! +They want to make an end of it." + +In spite of the obscurity of the soldier's words Pierre understood +what he wanted to say and nodded approval. + +The road was clear again; Pierre descended the hill and drove on. + +He kept looking to either side of the road for familiar faces, but +only saw everywhere the unfamiliar faces of various military men of +different branches of the service, who all looked with astonishment at +his white hat and green tail coat. + +Having gone nearly three miles he at last met an acquaintance and +eagerly addressed him. This was one of the head army doctors. He was +driving toward Pierre in a covered gig, sitting beside a young +surgeon, and on recognizing Pierre he told the Cossack who occupied +the driver's seat to pull up. + +"Count! Your excellency, how come you to be here?" asked the doctor. + +"Well, you know, I wanted to see..." + +"Yes, yes, there will be something to see...." + +Pierre got out and talked to the doctor, explaining his intention of +taking part in a battle. + +The doctor advised him to apply direct to Kutuzov. + +"Why should you be God knows where out of sight, during the battle?" +he said, exchanging glances with his young companion. "Anyhow his +Serene Highness knows you and will receive you graciously. That's what +you must do." + +The doctor seemed tired and in a hurry. + +"You think so?... Ah, I also wanted to ask you where our position is +exactly?" said Pierre. + +"The position?" repeated the doctor. "Well, that's not my line. +Drive past Tatarinova, a lot of digging is going on there. Go up the +hillock and you'll see." + +"Can one see from there?... If you would..." + +But the doctor interrupted him and moved toward his gig. + +"I would go with you but on my honor I'm up to here"- and he pointed +to his throat. "I'm galloping to the commander of the corps. How do +matters stand?... You know, Count, there'll be a battle tomorrow. +Out of an army of a hundred thousand we must expect at least twenty +thousand wounded, and we haven't stretchers, or bunks, or dressers, or +doctors enough for six thousand. We have ten thousand carts, but we +need other things as well- we must manage as best we can!" + +The strange thought that of the thousands of men, young and old, who +had stared with merry surprise at his hat (perhaps the very men he had +noticed), twenty thousand were inevitably doomed to wounds and death +amazed Pierre. + +"They may die tomorrow; why are they thinking of anything but +death?" And by some latent sequence of thought the descent of the +Mozhaysk hill, the carts with the wounded, the ringing bells, the +slanting rays of the sun, and the songs of the cavalrymen vividly +recurred to his mind. + +"The cavalry ride to battle and meet the wounded and do not for a +moment think of what awaits them, but pass by, winking at the wounded. +Yet from among these men twenty thousand are doomed to die, and they +wonder at my hat! Strange!" thought Pierre, continuing his way to +Tatarinova. + +In front of a landowner's house to the left of the road stood +carriages, wagons, and crowds of orderlies and sentinels. The +commander in chief was putting up there, but just when Pierre +arrived he was not in and hardly any of the staff were there- they had +gone to the church service. Pierre drove on toward Gorki. + +When he had ascended the hill and reached the little village street, +he saw for the first time peasant militiamen in their white shirts and +with crosses on their caps, who, talking and laughing loudly, animated +and perspiring, were at work on a huge knoll overgrown with grass to +the right of the road. + +Some of them were digging, others were wheeling barrowloads of earth +along planks, while others stood about doing nothing. + +Two officers were standing on the knoll, directing the men. On +seeing these peasants, who were evidently still amused by the +novelty of their position as soldiers, Pierre once more thought of the +wounded men at Mozhaysk and understood what the soldier had meant when +he said: "They want the whole nation to fall on them." The sight of +these bearded peasants at work on the battlefield, with their queer, +clumsy boots and perspiring necks, and their shirts opening from the +left toward the middle, unfastened, exposing their sunburned +collarbones, impressed Pierre more strongly with the solemnity and +importance of the moment than anything he had yet seen or heard. + +CHAPTER XXI + +Pierre stepped out of his carriage and, passing the toiling +militiamen, ascended the knoll from which, according to the doctor, +the battlefield could be seen. + +It was about eleven o'clock. The sun shone somewhat to the left +and behind him and brightly lit up the enormous panorama which, rising +like an amphitheater, extended before him in the clear rarefied +atmosphere. + +From above on the left, bisecting that amphitheater, wound the +Smolensk highroad, passing through a village with a white church +some five hundred paces in front of the knoll and below it. This was +Borodino. Below the village the road crossed the river by a bridge +and, winding down and up, rose higher and higher to the village of +Valuevo visible about four miles away, where Napoleon was then +stationed. Beyond Valuevo the road disappeared into a yellowing forest +on the horizon. Far in the distance in that birch and fir forest to +the right of the road, the cross and belfry of the Kolocha Monastery +gleamed in the sun. Here and there over the whole of that blue +expanse, to right and left of the forest and the road, smoking +campfires could be seen and indefinite masses of troops- ours and +the enemy's. The ground to the right- along the course of the +Kolocha and Moskva rivers- was broken and hilly. Between the hollows +the villages of Bezubova and Zakharino showed in the distance. On +the left the ground was more level; there were fields of grain, and +the smoking ruins of Semenovsk, which had been burned down, could be +seen. + +All that Pierre saw was so indefinite that neither the left nor +the right side of the field fully satisfied his expectations. +Nowhere could he see the battlefield he had expected to find, but only +fields, meadows, troops, woods, the smoke of campfires, villages, +mounds, and streams; and try as he would he could descry no military +"position" in this place which teemed with life, nor could he even +distinguish our troops from the enemy's. + +"I must ask someone who knows," he thought, and addressed an officer +who was looking with curiosity at his huge unmilitary figure. + +"May I ask you," said Pierre, "what village that is in front?" + +"Burdino, isn't it?" said the officer, turning to his companion. + +"Borodino," the other corrected him. + +The officer, evidently glad of an opportunity for a talk, moved up +to Pierre. + +"Are those our men there?" Pierre inquired. + +"Yes, and there, further on, are the French," said the officer. +"There they are, there... you can see them." + +"Where? Where?" asked Pierre. + +"One can see them with the naked eye... Why, there!" + +The officer pointed with his hand to the smoke visible on the left +beyond the river, and the same stern and serious expression that +Pierre had noticed on many of the faces he had met came into his face. + +"Ah, those are the French! And over there?..." Pierre pointed to a +knoll on the left, near which some troops could be seen. + +"Those are ours." + +"Ah, ours! And there?..." Pierre pointed to another knoll in the +distance with a big tree on it, near a village that lay in a hollow +where also some campfires were smoking and something black was +visible. + +"That's his again," said the officer. (It was the Shevardino +Redoubt.) "It was ours yesterday, but now it is his." + +"Then how about our position?" + +"Our position?" replied the officer with a smile of satisfaction. "I +can tell you quite clearly, because I constructed nearly all our +entrenchments. There, you see? There's our center, at Borodino, just +there," and he pointed to the village in front of them with the +white church. "That's where one crosses the Kolocha. You see down +there where the rows of hay are lying in the hollow, there's the +bridge. That's our center. Our right flank is over there"- he +pointed sharply to the right, far away in the broken ground- "That's +where the Moskva River is, and we have thrown up three redoubts there, +very strong ones. The left flank..." here the officer paused. "Well, +you see, that's difficult to explain.... Yesterday our left flank +was there at Shevardino, you see, where the oak is, but now we have +withdrawn our left wing- now it is over there, do you see that village +and the smoke? That's Semenovsk, yes, there," he pointed to +Raevski's knoll. "But the battle will hardly be there. His having +moved his troops there is only a ruse; he will probably pass round +to the right of the Moskva. But wherever it may be, many a man will be +missing tomorrow!" he remarked. + +An elderly sergeant who had approached the officer while he was +giving these explanations had waited in silence for him to finish +speaking, but at this point, evidently not liking the officer's +remark, interrupted him. + +"Gabions must be sent for," said he sternly. + +The officer appeared abashed, as though he understood that one might +think of how many men would be missing tomorrow but ought not to speak +to speak of it. + +"Well, send number three company again," the officer replied +hurriedly. + +"And you, are you one of the doctors?" + +"No, I've come on my own," answered Pierre, and he went down the +hill again, passing the militiamen. + +"Oh, those damned fellows!" muttered the officer who followed him, +holding his nose as he ran past the men at work. + +"There they are... bringing her, coming... There they are... They'll +be here in a minute..." voices were suddenly heard saying; and +officers, soldiers, and militiamen began running forward along the +road. + +A church procession was coming up the hill from Borodino. First +along the dusty road came the infantry in ranks, bareheaded and with +arms reversed. From behind them came the sound of church singing. + +Soldiers and militiamen ran bareheaded past Pierre toward the +procession. + +"They are bringing her, our Protectress!... The Iberian Mother of +God!" someone cried. + +"The Smolensk Mother of God," another corrected him. + +The militiamen, both those who had been in the village and those who +had been at work on the battery, threw down their spades and ran to +meet the church procession. Following the battalion that marched along +the dusty road came priests in their vestments- one little old man +in a hood with attendants and singers. Behind them soldiers and +officers bore a large, dark-faced icon with an embossed metal cover. +This was the icon that had been brought from and had since accompanied +the army. Behind, before, and on both sides, crowds of militiamen with +bared heads walked, ran, and bowed to the ground. + +At the summit of the hill they stopped with the icon; the men who +had been holding it up by the linen bands attached to it were relieved +by others, the chanters relit their censers, and service began. The +hot rays of the sun beat down vertically and a fresh soft wind +played with the hair of the bared heads and with the ribbons +decorating the icon. The singing did not sound loud under the open +sky. An immense crowd of bareheaded officers, soldiers, and militiamen +surrounded the icon. Behind the priest and a chanter stood the +notabilities on a spot reserved for them. A bald general with +general with a St. George's Cross on his neck stood just behind the +priest's back, and without crossing himself (he was evidently a +German) patiently awaited the end of the service, which he +considered it necessary to hear to the end, probably to arouse the +patriotism of the Russian people. Another general stood in a martial +pose, crossing himself by shaking his hand in front of his chest while +looking about him. Standing among the crowd of peasants, Pierre +recognized several acquaintances among these notables, but did not +look at them- his whole attention was absorbed in watching the serious +expression on the faces of the crowd of soldiers and militiamen who +were all gazing eagerly at the icon. As soon as the tired chanters, +who were singing the service for the twentieth time that day, began +lazily and mechanically to sing: "Save from calamity Thy servants, O +Mother of God," and the priest and deacon chimed in: "For to Thee +under God we all flee as to an inviolable bulwark and protection," +there again kindled in all those faces the same expression of +consciousness of the solemnity of the impending moment that Pierre had +seen on the faces at the foot of the hill at Mozhaysk and +momentarily on many and many faces he had met that morning; and +heads were bowed more frequently and hair tossed back, and sighs and +the sound men made as they crossed themselves were heard. + +The crowd round the icon suddenly parted and pressed against Pierre. +Someone, a very important personage judging by the haste with which +way was made for him, was approaching the icon. + +It was Kutuzov, who had been riding round the position and on his +way back to Tatarinova had stopped where the service was being held. +Pierre recognized him at once by his peculiar figure, which +distinguished him from everybody else. + +With a long overcoat on his his exceedingly stout, +round-shouldered body, with uncovered white head and puffy face +showing the white ball of the eye he had lost, Kutuzov walked with +plunging, swaying gait into the crowd and stopped behind the priest. +He crossed himself with an accustomed movement, bent till he touched +the ground with his hand, and bowed his white head with a deep sigh. +Behind Kutuzov was Bennigsen and the suite. Despite the presence of +the commander in chief, who attracted the attention of all the +superior officers, the militiamen and soldiers continued their prayers +without looking at him. + +When the service was over, Kutuzov stepped up to the icon, sank +heavily to his knees, bowed to the ground, and for a long time tried +vainly to rise, but could not do so on account of his weakness and +weight. His white head twitched with the effort. At last he rose, +kissed the icon as a child does with naively pouting lips, and again +bowed till he touched the ground with his hand. The other generals +followed his example, then the officers, and after them with excited +faces, pressing on one another, crowding, panting, and pushing, +scrambled the soldiers and militiamen. + +CHAPTER XXII + +Staggering amid the crush, Pierre looked about him. + +"Count Peter Kirilovich! How did you get here?" said a voice. + +Pierre looked round. Boris Drubetskoy, brushing his knees with his +hand (he had probably soiled them when he, too, had knelt before the +icon), came up to him smiling. Boris was elegantly dressed, with a +slightly martial touch appropriate to a campaign. He wore a long +coat and like Kutuzov had a whip slung across his shoulder. + +Meanwhile Kutuzov had reached the village and seated himself in +the shade of the nearest house, on a bench which one Cossack had run +to fetch and another had hastily covered with a rug. An immense and +brilliant suite surrounded him. + +The icon was carried further, accompanied by the throng. Pierre +stopped some thirty paces from Kutuzov, talking to Boris. + +He explained his wish to be present at the battle and to see the +position. + +"This is what you must do," said Boris. "I will do the honors of the +camp to you. You will see everything best from where Count Bennigsen +will be. I am in attendance on him, you know; I'll mention it to +him. But if you want to ride round the position, come along with us. +We are just going to the left flank. Then when we get back, do spend +the night with me and we'll arrange a game of cards. Of course you +know Dmitri Sergeevich? Those are his quarters," and he pointed to the +third house in the village of Gorki. + +"But I should like to see the right flank. They say it's very +strong," said Pierre. "I should like to start from the Moskva River +and ride round the whole position." + +"Well, you can do that later, but the chief thing is the left +flank." + +"Yes, yes. But where is Prince Bolkonski's regiment? Can you point +it out to me?" + +"Prince Andrew's? We shall pass it and I'll take you to him." + +What about the left flank?" asked Pierre + +"To tell you the truth, between ourselves, God only knows what state +our left flank is in," said Boris confidentially lowering his voice. +"It is not at all what Count Bennigsen intended. He meant to fortify +that knoll quite differently, but..." Boris shrugged his shoulders, +"his Serene Highness would not have it, or someone persuaded him. +You see..." but Boris did not finish, for at that moment Kaysarov, +Kutuzov's adjutant, came up to Pierre. "Ah, Kaysarov!" said Boris, +addressing him with an unembarrassed smile, "I was just trying to +explain our position to the count. It is amazing how his Serene +Highness could so the intentions of the French!" + +"You mean the left flank?" asked Kaysarov. + +"Yes, exactly; the left flank is now extremely strong." + +Though Kutuzov had dismissed all unnecessary men from the staff, +Boris had contrived to remain at headquarters after the changes. He +had established himself with Count Bennigsen, who, like all on whom +Boris had been in attendance, considered young Prince Drubetskoy an +invaluable man. + +In the higher command there were two sharply defined parties: +Kutuzov's party and that of Bennigsen, the chief of staff. Boris +belonged to the latter and no one else, while showing servile +respect to Kutuzov, could so create an impression that the old +fellow was not much good and that Bennigsen managed everything. Now +the decisive moment of battle had come when Kutuzov would be destroyed +and the power pass to Bennigsen, or even if Kutuzov won the battle +it would be felt that everything was done by Bennigsen. In any case +many great rewards would have to be given for tomorrow's action, and +new men would come to the front. So Boris was full of nervous vivacity +all day. + +After Kaysarov, others whom Pierre knew came up to him, and he had +not time to reply to all the questions about Moscow that were showered +upon him, or to listen to all that was told him. The faces all +expressed animation and apprehension, but it seemed to Pierre that the +cause of the excitement shown in some of these faces lay chiefly in +questions of personal success; his mind, however, was occupied by +the different expression he saw on other faces- an expression that +spoke not of personal matters but of the universal questions of life +and death. Kutuzov noticed Pierre's figure and the group gathered +round him. + +"Call him to me," said Kutuzov. + +An adjutant told Pierre of his Serene Highness' wish, and Pierre +went toward Kutuzov's bench. But a militiaman got there before him. It +was Dolokhov. + +"How did that fellow get here?" asked Pierre. + +"He's a creature that wriggles in anywhere!" was the answer. "He has +been degraded, you know. Now he wants to bob up again. He's been +proposing some scheme or other and has crawled into the enemy's picket +line at night.... He's a brave fellow." + +Pierre took off his hat and bowed respectfully to Kutuzov. + +"I concluded that if I reported to your Serene Highness you might +send me away or say that you knew what I was reporting, but then I +shouldn't lose anything..." Dolokhov was saying. + +"Yes, yes." + +"But if I were right, I should be rendering a service to my +Fatherland for which I am ready to die." + +"Yes, yes." + +"And should your Serene Highness require a man who will not spare +his skin, please think of me.... Perhaps I may prove useful to your +Serene Highness." + +"Yes... Yes..." Kutuzov repeated, his laughing eye narrowing more +and more as he looked at Pierre. + +Just then Boris, with his courtierlike adroitness, stepped up to +Pierre's side near Kutuzov and in a most natural manner, without +raising his voice, said to Pierre, as though continuing an interrupted +conversation: + +"The militia have put on clean white shirts to be ready to die. What +heroism, Count!" + +Boris evidently said this to Pierre in order to be overheard by +his Serene Highness. He knew Kutuzov's attention would be caught by +those words, and so it was. + +"What are you saying about the militia?" he asked Boris. + +"Preparing for tomorrow, your Serene Highness- for death- they +have put on clean shirts." + +"Ah... a wonderful, a matchless people!" said Kutuzov; and he closed +his eyes and swayed his head. "A matchless people!" he repeated with a +sigh. + +"So you want to smell gunpowder?" he said to Pierre. "Yes, it's a +pleasant smell. I have the honor to be one of your wife's adorers. +Is she well? My quarters are at your service." + +And as often happens with old people, Kutuzov began looking about +absent-mindedly as if forgetting all he wanted to say or do. + +Then, evidently remembering what he wanted, he beckoned to Andrew +Kaysarov, his adjutant's brother. + +"Those verses... those verses of Marin's... how do they go, eh? +Those he wrote about Gerakov: 'Lectures for the corps inditing'... +Recite them, recite them!" said he, evidently preparing to laugh. + +Kaysarov recited.... Kutuzov smilingly nodded his head to the rhythm +of the verses. + +When Pierre had left Kutuzov, Dolokhov came up to him and took his +hand. + +"I am very glad to meet you here, Count," he said aloud, +regardless of the presence of strangers and in a particularly resolute +and solemn tone. "On the eve of a day when God alone knows who of us +is fated to survive, I am glad of this opportunity to tell you that +I regret the misunderstandings that occurred between us and should +wish you not to have any ill feeling for me. I beg you to forgive me." + +Pierre looked at Dolokhov with a smile, not knowing what to say to +him. With tears in his eyes Dolokhov embraced Pierre and kissed him. + +Boris said a few words to his general, and Count Bennigsen turned to +Pierre and proposed that he should ride with him along the line. + +"It will interest you," said he. + +"Yes, very much," replied Pierre. + +Half an hour later Kutuzov left for Tatarinova, and Bennigsen and +his suite, with Pierre among them, set out on their ride along the +line. + +CHAPTER XXIII + +From Gorki, Bennigsen descended the highroad to the bridge which, +when they had looked it from the hill, the officer had pointed out +as being the center of our position and where rows of fragrant +new-mown hay lay by the riverside. They rode across that bridge into +the village of Borodino and thence turned to the left, passing an +enormous number of troops and guns, and came to a high knoll where +militiamen were digging. This was the redoubt, as yet unnamed, which +afterwards became known as the Raevski Redoubt, or the Knoll +Battery, but Pierre paid no special attention to it. He did not know +that it would become more memorable to him than any other spot on +the plain of Borodino. + +They then crossed the hollow to Semenovsk, where the soldiers were +dragging away the last logs from the huts and barns. Then they rode +downhill and uphill, across a ryefield trodden and beaten down as if +by hail, following a track freshly made by the artillery over the +furrows of the plowed land, and reached some fleches~^ which were still +being dug. + +^~ A kind of entrenchment. + +At the fleches Bennigsen stopped and began looking at the Shevardino +Redoubt opposite, which had been ours the day before and where several +horsemen could be descried. The officers said that either Napoleon +or Murat was there, and they all gazed eagerly at this little group of +horsemen. Pierre also looked at them, trying to guess which of the +scarcely discernible figures was Napoleon. At last those mounted men +rode away from the mound and disappeared. + +Bennigsen spoke to a general who approached him, and began +explaining the whole position of our troops. Pierre listened to him, +straining each faculty to understand the essential points of the +impending battle, but was mortified to feel that his mental capacity +was inadequate for the task. He could make nothing of it. Bennigsen +stopped speaking and, noticing that Pierre was listening, suddenly +said to him: + +"I don't think this interests you?" + +"On the contrary it's very interesting!" replied Pierre not quite +truthfully. + +From the fleches they rode still farther to the left, along a road +winding through a thick, low-growing birch wood. In the middle of +the wood a brown hare with white feet sprang out and, scared by the +tramp of the many horses, grew so confused that it leaped along the +road in front of them for some time, arousing general attention and +laughter, and only when several voices shouted at it did it dart to +one side and disappear in the thicket. After going through the wood +for about a mile and a half they came out on a glade where troops of +Tuchkov's corps were stationed to defend the left flank. + +Here, at the extreme left flank, Bennigsen talked a great deal and +with much heat, and, as it seemed to Pierre, gave orders of great +military importance. In front of Tuchkov's troops was some high ground +not occupied by troops. Bennigsen loudly criticized this mistake, +saying that it was madness to leave a height which commanded the +country around unoccupied and to place troops below it. Some of the +generals expressed the same opinion. One in particular declared with +martial heat that they were put there to be slaughtered. Bennigsen +on his own authority ordered the troops to occupy the high ground. +This disposition on the left flank increased Pierre's doubt of his own +capacity to understand military matters. Listening to Bennigsen and +the generals criticizing the position of the troops behind the hill, +he quite understood them and shared their opinion, but for that very +reason he could not understand how the man who put them there behind +the hill could have made so gross and palpable a blunder. + +Pierre did not know that these troops were not, as Bennigsen +supposed, put there to defend the position, but were in a concealed +position as an ambush, that they should not be seen and might be +able to strike an approaching enemy unexpectedly. Bennigsen did not +know this and moved the troops forward according to his own ideas +without mentioning the matter to the commander in chief. + +CHAPTER XXIV + +On that bright evening of August 25, Prince Andrew lay leaning on +his elbow in a broken-down shed in the village of Knyazkovo at the +further end of his regiment's encampment. Through a gap in the +broken wall he could see, beside the wooden fence, a row of thirty +year-old birches with their lower branches lopped off, a field on +which shocks of oats were standing, and some bushes near which rose +the smoke of campfires- the soldiers' kitchens. + +Narrow and burdensome and useless to anyone as his life now seemed +to him, Prince Andrew on the eve of battle felt agitated and irritable +as he had done seven years before at Austerlitz. + +He had received and given the orders for next day's battle and had +nothing more to do. But his thoughts- the simplest, clearest, and +therefore most terrible thoughts- would give him no peace. He knew +that tomorrow's battle would be the most terrible of all he had +taken part in, and for the first time in his life the possibility of +death presented itself to him- not in relation to any worldly matter +or with reference to its effect on others, but simply in relation to +himself, to his own soul- vividly, plainly, terribly, and almost as +a certainty. And from the height of this perception all that had +previously tormented and preoccupied him suddenly became illumined +by a cold white light without shadows, without perspective, without +distinction of outline. All life appeared to him like magic-lantern +pictures at which he had long been gazing by artificial light +through a glass. Now he suddenly saw those badly daubed pictures in +clear daylight and without a glass. "Yes, yes! There they are, those +false images that agitated, enraptured, and tormented me," said he +to himself, passing in review the principal pictures of the magic +lantern of life and regarding them now in the cold white daylight of +his clear perception of death. "There they are, those rudely painted +figures that once seemed splendid and mysterious. Glory, the good of +society, love of a woman, the Fatherland itself- how important these +pictures appeared to me, with what profound meaning they seemed to +be filled! And it is all so simple, pale, and crude in the cold +white light of this morning which I feel is dawning for me." The three +great sorrows of his life held his attention in particular: his love +for a woman, his father's death, and the French invasion which had +overrun half Russia. "Love... that little girl who seemed to me +brimming over with mystic forces! Yes, indeed, I loved her. I made +romantic plans of love and happiness with her! Oh, what a boy I +was!" he said aloud bitterly. "Ah me! I believed in some ideal love +which was to keep her faithful to me for the whole year of my absence! +Like the gentle dove in the fable she was to pine apart from me.... +But it was much simpler really.... It was all very simple and +horrible." + +"When my father built Bald Hills he thought the place was his: his +land, his air, his peasants. But Napoleon came and swept him aside, +unconscious of his existence, as he might brush a chip from his +path, and his Bald Hills and his whole life fell to pieces. Princess +Mary says it is a trial sent from above. What is the trial for, when +he is not here and will never return? He is not here! For whom then is +the trial intended? The Fatherland, the destruction of Moscow! And +tomorrow I shall be killed, perhaps not even by a Frenchman but by one +of our own men, by a soldier discharging a musket close to my ear as +one of them did yesterday, and the French will come and take me by +head and heels and fling me into a hole that I may not stink under +their noses, and new conditions of life will arise, which will seem +quite ordinary to others and about which I shall know nothing. I shall +not exist..." + +He looked at the row of birches shining in the sunshine, with +their motionless green and yellow foliage and white bark. "To die... +to be killed tomorrow... That I should not exist... That all this +should still be, but no me...." + +And the birches with their light and shade, the curly clouds, the +smoke of the campfires, and all that was around him changed and seemed +terrible and menacing. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He rose +quickly, went out of the shed, and began to walk about. + +After he had returned, voices were heard outside the shed. "Who's +that?" he cried. + +The red-nosed Captain Timokhin, formerly Dolokhov's squadron +commander, but now from lack of officers a battalion commander, +shyly entered the shed followed by an adjutant and the regimental +paymaster. + +Prince Andrew rose hastily, listened to the business they had come +about, gave them some further instructions, and was about to dismiss +them when he heard a familiar, lisping, voice behind the shed. + +"Devil take it!" said the voice of a man stumbling over something. + +Prince Andrew looked out of the shed and saw Pierre, who had tripped +over a pole on the ground and had nearly fallen, coming his way. It +was unpleasant to Prince Andrew to meet people of his own set in +general, and Pierre especially, for he reminded him of all the painful +moments of his last visit to Moscow. + +"You? What a surprise!" said he. "What brings you here? This is +unexpected!" + +As he said this his eyes and face expressed more than coldness- they +expressed hostility, which Pierre noticed at once. He had approached +the shed full of animation, but on seeing Prince Andrew's face he felt +constrained and ill at ease. + +"I have come... simply... you know... come... it interests me," said +Pierre, who had so often that day senselessly repeated that word +"interesting." "I wish to see the battle." + +"Oh yes, and what do the Masonic brothers say about war? How would +they stop it?" said Prince Andrew sarcastically. "Well, and how's +Moscow? And my people? Have they reached Moscow at last?" he asked +seriously. + +"Yes, they have. Julie Drubetskaya told me so. I went to see them, +but missed them. They have gone to your estate near Moscow." + +CHAPTER XXV + +The officers were about to take leave, but Prince Andrew, apparently +reluctant to be left alone with his friend, asked them to stay and +have tea. Seats were brought in and so was the tea. The officers gazed +with surprise at Pierre's huge stout figure and listened to his talk +of Moscow and the position of our army, round which he had ridden. +Prince Andrew remained silent, and his expression was so forbidding +that Pierre addressed his remarks chiefly to the good-natured +battalion commander. + +"So you understand the whole position of our troops?" Prince +Andrew interrupted him. + +"Yes- that is, how do you mean?" said Pierre. "Not being a +military man I can't say I have understood it fully, but I +understand the general position." + +"Well, then, you know more than anyone else, be it who it may," said +Prince Andrew. + +"Oh!" said Pierre, looking over his spectacles in perplexity at +Prince Andrew. "Well, and what do think of Kutuzov's appointment?" +he asked. + +"I was very glad of his appointment, that's all I know," replied +Prince Andrew. + +"And tell me your opinion of Barclay de Tolly. In Moscow they are +saying heaven knows what about him.... What do you think of him?" + +"Ask them," replied Prince Andrew, indicating the officers. + +Pierre looked at Timokhin with the condescendingly interrogative +smile with which everybody involuntarily addressed that officer. + +"We see light again, since his Serenity has been appointed, your +excellency," said Timokhin timidly, and continually turning to +glance at his colonel. + +"Why so?" asked Pierre. + +"Well, to mention only firewood and fodder, let me inform you. +Why, when we were retreating from Sventsyani we dare not touch a stick +or a wisp of hay or anything. You see, we were going away, so he would +get it all; wasn't it so, your excellency?" and again Timokhin +turned to the prince. "But we daren't. In our regiment two officers +were court-martialed for that kind of thing. But when his Serenity +took command everything became straight forward. Now we see light..." + +"Then why was it forbidden?" + +Timokhin looked about in confusion, not knowing what or how to +answer such a question. Pierre put the same question to Prince Andrew. + +"Why, so as not to lay waste the country we were abandoning to the +enemy," said Prince Andrew with venomous irony. "It is very sound: one +can't permit the land to be pillaged and accustom the troops to +marauding. At Smolensk too he judged correctly that the French might +outflank us, as they had larger forces. But he could not understand +this," cried Prince Andrew in a shrill voice that seemed to escape him +involuntarily: "he could not understand that there, for the first +time, we were fighting for Russian soil, and that there was a spirit +in the men such as I had never seen before, that we had held the +French for two days, and that that success had increased our +strength tenfold. He ordered us to retreat, and all our efforts and +losses went for nothing. He had no thought of betraying us, he tried +to do the best he could, he thought out everything, and that is why he +is unsuitable. He is unsuitable now, just because he plans out +everything very thoroughly and accurately as every German has to. +How can I explain?... Well, say your father has a German valet, and he +is a splendid valet and satisfies your father's requirements better +than you could, then it's all right to let him serve. But if your +father is mortally sick you'll send the valet away and attend to +your father with your own unpracticed, awkward hands, and will +soothe him better than a skilled man who is a stranger could. So it +has been with Barclay. While Russia was well, a foreigner could +serve her and be a splendid minister; but as soon as she is in +danger she needs one of her own kin. But in your Club they have been +making him out a traitor! They slander him as a traitor, and the +only result will be that afterwards, ashamed of their false +accusations, they will make him out a hero or a genius instead of a +traitor, and that will be still more unjust. He is an honest and +very punctilious German." + +"And they say he's a skillful commander," rejoined Pierre. + +"I don't understand what is meant by 'a skillful commander,'" +replied Prince Andrew ironically. + +"A skillful commander?" replied Pierre. "Why, one who foresees all +contingencies... and foresees the adversary's intentions." + +"But that's impossible," said Prince Andrew as if it were a matter +settled long ago. + +Pierre looked at him in surprise. + +"And yet they say that war is like a game of chess?" he remarked. + +"Yes," replied Prince Andrew, "but with this little difference, that +in chess you may think over each move as long as you please and are +not limited for time, and with this difference too, that a knight is +always stronger than a pawn, and two pawns are always stronger than +one, while in war a battalion is sometimes stronger than a division +and sometimes weaker than a company. The relative strength of bodies +of troops can never be known to anyone. Believe me," he went on, "if +things depended on arrangements made by the staff, I should be there +making arrangements, but instead of that I have the honor to serve +here in the regiment with these gentlemen, and I consider that on us +tomorrow's battle will depend and not on those others.... Success +never depends, and never will depend, on position, or equipment, or +even on numbers, and least of all on position." + +"But on what then?" + +"On the feeling that is in me and in him," he pointed to Timokhin, +"and in each soldier." + +Prince Andrew glanced at Timokhin, who looked at his commander in +alarm and bewilderment. In contrast to his former reticent taciturnity +Prince Andrew now seemed excited. He could apparently not refrain from +expressing the thoughts that had suddenly occurred to him. + +"A battle is won by those who firmly resolve to win it! Why did we +lose the battle at Austerlitz? The French losses were almost equal +to ours, but very early we said to ourselves that we were losing the +battle, and we did lose it. And we said so because we had nothing to +fight for there, we wanted to get away from the battlefield as soon as +we could. 'We've lost, so let us run,' and we ran. If we had not +said that till the evening, heaven knows what might not have happened. +But tomorrow we shan't say it! You talk about our position, the left +flank weak and the right flank too extended," he went on. "That's +all nonsense, there's nothing of the kind. But what awaits us +tomorrow? A hundred million most diverse chances which will be decided +on the instant by the fact that our men or theirs run or do not run, +and that this man or that man is killed, but all that is being done at +present is only play. The fact is that those men with whom you have +ridden round the position not only do not help matters, but hinder. +They are only concerned with their own petty interests." + +"At such a moment?" said Pierre reproachfully. + +"At such a moment!" Prince Andrew repeated. "To them it is only a +moment affording opportunities to undermine a rival and obtain an +extra cross or ribbon. For me tomorrow means this: a Russian army of a +hundred thousand and a French army of a hundred thousand have met to +fight, and the thing is that these two hundred thousand men will fight +and the side that fights more fiercely and spares itself least will +win. And if you like I will tell you that whatever happens and +whatever muddles those at the top may make, we shall win tomorrow's +battle. Tomorrow, happen what may, we shall win!" + +"There now, your excellency! That's the truth, the real truth," said +Timokhin. "Who would spare himself now? The soldiers in my +battalion, believe me, wouldn't drink their vodka! 'It's not the day +for that!' they say." + +All were silent. The officers rose. Prince Andrew went out of the +shed with them, giving final orders to the adjutant. After they had +gone Pierre approached Prince Andrew and was about to start a +conversation when they heard the clatter of three horses' hoofs on the +road not far from the shed, and looking in that direction Prince +Andrew recognized Wolzogen and Clausewitz accompanied by a Cossack. +They rode close by continuing to converse, and Prince Andrew +involuntarily heard these words: + +"Der Krieg muss in Raum verlegt werden. Der Ansicht kann ich nicht +genug Preis geben,"~^ said one of them. + +^~ "The war must be extended widely. I cannot sufficiently commend +that view." + +"Oh, ja," said the other, "der Zweck ist nur den Feind zu schwachen, +so kann man gewiss nicht den Verlust der Privat-Personen in Achtung +nehmen."~^ + +^~ "Oh, yes, the only aim is to weaken the enemy, so of course one +cannot take into account the loss of private individuals." + +"Oh, no," agreed the other. + +"Extend widely!" said Prince Andrew with an angry snort, when they +had ridden past. "In that 'extend' were my father, son, and sister, at +Bald Hills. That's all the same to him! That's what I was saying to +you- those German gentlemen won't win the battle tomorrow but will +only make all the mess they can, because they have nothing in their +German heads but theories not worth an empty eggshell and haven't in +their hearts the one thing needed tomorrow- that which Timokhin has. +They have yielded up all Europe to him, and have now come to teach us. +Fine teachers!" and again his voice grew shrill. + +"So you think we shall win tomorrow's battle?" asked Pierre. + +"Yes, yes," answered Prince Andrew absently. "One thing I would do +if I had the power," he began again, "I would not take prisoners. +Why take prisoners? It's chivalry! The French have destroyed my home +and are on their way to destroy Moscow, they have outraged and are +outraging me every moment. They are my enemies. In my opinion they are +all criminals. And so thinks Timokhin and the whole army. They +should be executed! Since they are my foes they cannot be my +friends, whatever may have been said at Tilsit." + +"Yes, yes," muttered Pierre, looking with shining eyes at Prince +Andrew. "I quite agree with you!" + +The question that had perturbed Pierre on the Mozhaysk hill and +all that day now seemed to him quite clear and completely solved. He +now understood the whole meaning and importance of this war and of the +impending battle. All he had seen that day, all the significant and +stern expressions on the faces he had seen in passing, were lit up for +him by a new light. He understood that latent heat (as they say in +physics) of patriotism which was present in all these men he had seen, +and this explained to him why they all prepared for death calmly, +and as it were lightheartedly. + +"Not take prisoners," Prince Andrew continued: "That by itself would +quite change the whole war and make it less cruel. As it is we have +played at war- that's what's vile! We play at magnanimity and all that +stuff. Such magnanimity and sensibility are like the magnanimity and +sensibility of a lady who faints when she sees a calf being killed: +she is so kind-hearted that she can't look at blood, but enjoys eating +the calf served up with sauce. They talk to us of the rules of war, of +chivalry, of flags of truce, of mercy to the unfortunate and so on. +It's all rubbish! I saw chivalry and flags of truce in 1805; they +humbugged us and we humbugged them. They plunder other people's +houses, issue false paper money, and worst of all they kill my +children and my father, and then talk of rules of war and +magnanimity to foes! Take no prisoners, but kill and be killed! He who +has come to this as I have through the same sufferings..." + +Prince Andrew, who had thought it was all the same to him whether or +not Moscow was taken as Smolensk had been, was suddenly checked in his +speech by an unexpected cramp in his throat. He paced up and down a +few times in silence, but his eyes glittered feverishly and his lips +quivered as he began speaking. + +"If there was none of this magnanimity in war, we should go to war +only when it was worth while going to certain death, as now. Then +there would not be war because Paul Ivanovich had offended Michael +Ivanovich. And when there was a war, like this one, it would be war! +And then the determination of the troops would be quite different. +Then all these Westphalians and Hessians whom Napoleon is leading +would not follow him into Russia, and we should not go to fight in +Austria and Prussia without knowing why. War is not courtesy but the +most horrible thing in life; and we ought to understand that and not +play at war. We ought to accept this terrible necessity sternly and +seriously. It all lies in that: get rid of falsehood and let war be +war and not a game. As it is now, war is the favorite pastime of the +idle and frivolous. The military calling is the most highly honored. + +"But what is war? What is needed for success in warfare? What are +the habits of the military? The aim of war is murder; the methods of +war are spying, treachery, and their encouragement, the ruin of a +country's inhabitants, robbing them or stealing to provision the army, +and fraud and falsehood termed military craft. The habits of the +military class are the absence of freedom, that is, discipline, +idleness, ignorance, cruelty, debauchery, and drunkenness. And in +spite of all this it is the highest class, respected by everyone. +All the kings, except the Chinese, wear military uniforms, and he +who kills most people receives the highest rewards. + +"They meet, as we shall meet tomorrow, to murder one another; they +kill and maim tens of thousands, and then have thanksgiving services +for having killed so many people (they even exaggerate the number), +and they announce a victory, supposing that the more people they +have killed the greater their achievement. How does God above look +at them and hear them?" exclaimed Prince Andrew in a shrill, +piercing voice. "Ah, my friend, it has of late become hard for me to +live. I see that I have begun to understand too much. And it doesn't +do for man to taste of the tree of knowledge of good and evil.... +Ah, well, it's not for long!" he added. + +"However, you're sleepy, and it's time for me to sleep. Go back to +Gorki!" said Prince Andrew suddenly. + +"Oh no!" Pierre replied, looking at Prince Andrew with frightened, +compassionate eyes. + +"Go, go! Before a battle one must have one's sleep out," repeated +Prince Andrew. + +He came quickly up to Pierre and embraced and kissed him. +"Good-by, be off!" he shouted. "Whether we meet again or not..." +and turning away hurriedly he entered the shed. + +It was already dark, and Pierre could not make out whether the +expression of Prince Andrew's face was angry or tender. + +For some time he stood in silence considering whether he should +follow him or go away. "No, he does not want it!" Pierre concluded. +"And I know that this is our last meeting!" He sighed deeply and +rode back to Gorki. + +On re-entering the shed Prince Andrew lay down on a rug, but he +could not sleep. + +He closed his eyes. One picture succeeded another in his +imagination. On one of them he dwelt long and joyfully. He vividly +recalled an evening in Petersburg. Natasha with animated and excited +face was telling him how she had gone to look for mushrooms the +previous summer and had lost her way in the big forest. She +incoherently described the depths of the forest, her feelings, and a +talk with a beekeeper she met, and constantly interrupted her story to +say: "No, I can't! I'm not telling it right; no, you don't +understand," though he encouraged her by saying that he did +understand, and he really had understood all she wanted to say. But +Natasha was not satisfied with her own words: she felt that they did +not convey the passionately poetic feeling she had experienced that +day and wished to convey. "He was such a delightful old man, and it +was so dark in the forest... and he had such kind... No, I can't +describe it," she had said, flushed and excited. Prince Andrew +smiled now the same happy smile as then when he had looked into her +eyes. "I understood her," he thought. "I not only understood her, +but it was just that inner, spiritual force, that sincerity, that +frankness of soul- that very soul of hers which seemed to be +fettered by her body- it was that soul I loved in her... loved so +strongly and happily..." and suddenly he remembered how his love had +ended. "He did not need anything of that kind. He neither saw nor +understood anything of the sort. He only saw in her a pretty and fresh +young girl, with whom he did not deign to unite his fate. And I?... +and he is still alive and gay!" + +Prince Andrew jumped up as if someone had burned him, and again +began pacing up and down in front of the shed. + +CHAPTER XXVI + +On August 25, the eve of the battle of Borodino, M. de Beausset, +prefect of the French Emperor's palace, arrived at Napoleon's quarters +at Valuevo with Colonel Fabvier, the former from Paris and the +latter from Madrid. + +Donning his court uniform, M. de Beausset ordered a box he had +brought for the Emperor to be carried before him and entered the first +compartment of Napoleon's tent, where he began opening the box while +conversing with Napoleon's aides-de-camp who surrounded him. + +Fabvier, not entering the tent, remained at the entrance talking +to some generals of his acquaintance. + +The Emperor Napoleon had not yet left his bedroom and was +finishing his toilet. Slightly snorting and grunting, he presented now +his back and now his plump hairy chest to the brush with which his +valet was rubbing him down. Another valet, with his finger over the +mouth of a bottle, was sprinkling Eau de Cologne on the Emperor's +pampered body with an expression which seemed to say that he alone +knew where and how much Eau de Cologne should be sprinkled. Napoleon's +short hair was wet and matted on the forehead, but his face, though +puffy and yellow, expressed physical satisfaction. "Go on, harder, +go on!" he muttered to the valet who was rubbing him, slightly +twitching and grunting. An aide-de-camp, who had entered the bedroom +to report to the Emperor the number of prisoners taken in +yesterday's action, was standing by the door after delivering his +message, awaiting permission to withdraw. Napoleon, frowning, looked +at him from under his brows. + +"No prisoners!" said he, repeating the aide-de-camp's words. "They +are forcing us to exterminate them. So much the worse for the +Russian army.... Go on... harder, harder!" he muttered, hunching his +back and presenting his fat shoulders. + +"All right. Let Monsieur de Beausset enter, and Fabvier too," he +said, nodding to the aide-de-camp. + +"Yes, sire," and the aide-de-camp disappeared through the door of +the tent. + +Two valets rapidly dressed His Majesty, and wearing the blue uniform +of the Guards he went with firm quick steps to the reception room. + +De Beausset's hands meanwhile were busily engaged arranging the +present he had brought from the Empress, on two chairs directly in +front of the entrance. But Napoleon had dressed and come out with such +unexpected rapidity that he had not time to finish arranging the +surprise. + +Napoleon noticed at once what they were about and guessed that +they were not ready. He did not wish to deprive them of the pleasure +of giving him a surprise, so he pretended not to see de Beausset and +called Fabvier to him, listening silently and with a stern frown to +what Fabvier told him of the heroism and devotion of his troops +fighting at Salamanca, at the other end of Europe, with but one +thought- to be worthy of their Emperor- and but one fear- to fail to +please him. The result of that battle had been deplorable. Napoleon +made ironic remarks during Fabvier's account, as if he had not +expected that matters could go otherwise in his absence. + +"I must make up for that in Moscow," said Napoleon. "I'll see you +later," he added, and summoned de Beausset, who by that time had +prepared the surprise, having placed something on the chairs and +covered it with a cloth. + +De Beausset bowed low, with that courtly French bow which only the +old retainers of the Bourbons knew how to make, and approached him, +presenting an envelope. + +Napoleon turned to him gaily and pulled his ear. + +"You have hurried here. I am very glad. Well, what is Paris saying?" +he asked, suddenly changing his former stern expression for a most +cordial tone. + +"Sire, all Paris regrets your absence," replied de Beausset as was +proper. + +But though Napoleon knew that de Beausset had to say something of +this kind, and though in his lucid moments he knew it was untrue, he +was pleased to hear it from him. Again he honored him by touching +his ear. + +"I am very sorry to have made you travel so far," said he. + +"Sire, I expected nothing less than to find you at the gates of +Moscow," replied de Beausset. + +Napoleon smiled and, lifting his head absentmindedly, glanced to the +right. An aide-de-camp approached with gliding steps and offered him a +gold snuffbox, which he took. + +"Yes, it has happened luckily for you," he said, raising the open +snuffbox to his nose. "You are fond of travel, and in three days you +will see Moscow. You surely did not expect to see that Asiatic +capital. You will have a pleasant journey." + +De Beausset bowed gratefully at this regard for his taste for travel +(of which he had not till then been aware). + +"Ha, what's this?" asked Napoleon, noticing that all the courtiers +were looking at something concealed under a cloth. + +With courtly adroitness de Beausset half turned and without +turning his back to the Emperor retired two steps, twitching off the +cloth at the same time, and said: + +"A present to Your Majesty from the Empress." + +It was a portrait, painted in bright colors by Gerard, of the son +borne to Napoleon by the daughter of the Emperor of Austria, the boy +whom for some reason everyone called "The King of Rome." + +A very pretty curly-headed boy with a look of the Christ in the +Sistine Madonna was depicted playing at stick and ball. The ball +represented the terrestrial globe and the stick in his other hand a +scepter. + +Though it was not clear what the artist meant to express by +depicting the so-called King of Rome spiking the earth with a stick, +the allegory apparently seemed to Napoleon, as it had done to all +who had seen it in Paris, quite clear and very pleasing. + +"The King of Rome!" he said, pointing to the portrait with a +graceful gesture. "Admirable!" + +With the natural capacity of an Italian for changing the +expression of his face at will, he drew nearer to the portrait and +assumed a look of pensive tenderness. He felt that what he now said +and did would be historical, and it seemed to him that it would now be +best for him- whose grandeur enabled his son to play stick and ball +with the terrestrial globe- to show, in contrast to that grandeur, the +simplest paternal tenderness. His eyes grew dim, he moved forward, +glanced round at a chair (which seemed to place itself under him), and +sat down on it before the portrait. At a single gesture from him +everyone went out on tiptoe, leaving the great man to himself and +his emotion. + +Having sat still for a while he touched- himself not knowing why- +the thick spot of paint representing the highest light in the +portrait, rose, and recalled de Beausset and the officer on duty. He +ordered the portrait to be carried outside his tent, that the Old +Guard, stationed round it, might not be deprived of the pleasure of +seeing the King of Rome, the son and heir of their adored monarch. + +And while he was doing M. de Beausset the honor of breakfasting with +him, they heard, as Napoleon had anticipated, the rapturous cries of +the officers and men of the Old Guard who had run up to see the +portrait. + +"Vive l'Empereur! Vive le roi de Rome! Vive l'Empereur!" came +those ecstatic cries. + +After breakfast Napoleon in de Beausset's presence dictated his +order of the day to the army. + +"Short and energetic!" he remarked when he had read over the +proclamation which he had dictated straight off without corrections. +It ran: + +Soldiers! This is the battle you have so longed for. Victory depends +on you. It is essential for us; it will give us all we need: +comfortable quarters and a speedy return to our country. Behave as you +did at Austerlitz, Friedland, Vitebsk, and Smolensk. Let our +remotest posterity recall your achievements this day with pride. Let +it be said of each of you: "He was in the great battle before Moscow!" + +"Before Moscow!" repeated Napoleon, and inviting M. de Beausset, who +was so fond of travel, to accompany him on his ride, he went out of +the tent to where the horses stood saddled. + +"Your Majesty is too kind!" replied de Beausset to the invitation to +accompany the Emperor; he wanted to sleep, did not know how to ride +and was afraid of doing so. + +But Napoleon nodded to the traveler, and de Beausset had to mount. +When Napoleon came out of the tent the shouting of the Guards before +his son's portrait grew still louder. Napoleon frowned. + +"Take him away!" he said, pointing with a gracefully majestic +gesture to the portrait. "It is too soon for him to see a field of +battle." + +De Beausset closed his eyes, bowed his head, and sighed deeply, to +indicate how profoundly he valued and comprehended the Emperor's +words. + +CHAPTER XXVII + +On the twenty-fifth of August, so his historians tell us, Napoleon +spent the whole day on horseback inspecting the locality, +considering plans submitted to him by his marshals, and personally +giving commands to his generals. + +The original line of the Russian forces along the river Kolocha +had been dislocated by the capture of the Shevardino Redoubt on the +twenty-fourth, and part of the line- the left flank- had been drawn +back. That part of the line was not entrenched and in front of it +the ground was more open and level than elsewhere. It was evident to +anyone, military or not, that it was here the French should attack. It +would seem that not much consideration was needed to reach this +conclusion, nor any particular care or trouble on the part of the +Emperor and his marshals, nor was there any need of that special and +supreme quality called genius that people are so apt to ascribe to +Napoleon; yet the historians who described the event later and the men +who then surrounded Napoleon, and he himself, thought otherwise. + +Napoleon rode over the plain and surveyed the locality with a +profound air and in silence, nodded with approval or shook his head +dubiously, and without communicating to the generals around him the +profound course of ideas which guided his decisions merely gave them +his final conclusions in the form of commands. Having listened to a +suggestion from Davout, who was now called Prince d'Eckmuhl, to turn +the Russian left wing, Napoleon said it should not be done, without +explaining why not. To a proposal made by General Campan (who was to +attack the fleches) to lead his division through the woods, Napoleon +agreed, though the so-called Duke of Elchingen (Ney) ventured to +remark that a movement through the woods was dangerous and might +disorder the division. + +Having inspected the country opposite the Shevardino Redoubt, +Napoleon pondered a little in silence and then indicated the spots +where two batteries should be set up by the morrow to act against +the Russian entrenchments, and the places where, in line with them, +the field artillery should be placed. + +After giving these and other commands he returned to his tent, and +the dispositions for the battle were written down from his dictation. + +These dispositions, of which the French historians write with +enthusiasm and other historians with profound respect, were as +follows: + +At dawn the two new batteries established during the night on the +plain occupied by the Prince d'Eckmuhl will open fire on the +opposing batteries of the enemy. + +At the same time the commander of the artillery of the 1st Corps, +General Pernetti, with thirty cannon of Campan's division and all +the howitzers of Dessaix's and Friant's divisions, will move +forward, open fire, and overwhelm with shellfire the enemy's +battery, against which will operate: + +_1 24 guns of the artillery of the Guards<br> +30 guns of Campan's division + +and 8 guns of Friant's and Dessaix's divisions + -- + +in all 62 guns. + +The commander of the artillery of the 3rd Corps, General Fouche, +will place the howitzers of the 3rd and 8th Corps, sixteen in all, +on the flanks of the battery that is to bombard the entrenchment on +the left, which will have forty guns in all directed against it. + +General Sorbier must be ready at the first order to advance with all +the howitzers of the Guard's artillery against either one or other +of the entrenchments. + +During the cannonade Prince Poniatowski is to advance through the +wood on the village and turn the enemy's position. + +General Campan will move through the wood to seize the first +fortification. + +After the advance has begun in this manner, orders will be given +in accordance with the enemy's movements. + +The cannonade on the left flank will begin as soon as the guns of +the right wing are heard. The sharpshooters of Morand's division and +of the vice-King's division will open a heavy fire on seeing the +attack commence on the right wing. + +The vice-King will occupy the village and cross by its three +bridges, advancing to the same heights as Morand's and Gibrard's +divisions, which under his leadership will be directed against the +redoubt and come into line with the rest of the forces. + +All this must be done in good order (le tout se fera avec ordre et +methode) as far as possible retaining troops in reserve. + +_1 The Imperial Camp near Mozhaysk,<br> +September, 6, 1812. + +These dispositions, which are very obscure and confused if one +allows oneself to regard the arrangements without religious awe of his +genius, related to Napoleon's orders to deal with four points- four +different orders. Not one of these was, or could be, carried out. + +In the disposition it is said first that the batteries placed on the +spot chosen by Napoleon, with the guns of Pernetti and Fouche; which +were to come in line with them, 102 guns in all, were to open fire and +shower shells on the Russian fleches and redoubts. This could not be +done, as from the spots selected by Napoleon the projectiles did not +carry to the Russian works, and those 102 guns shot into the air until +the nearest commander, contrary to Napoleon's instructions, moved them +forward. + +The second order was that Poniatowski, moving to the village through +the wood, should turn the Russian left flank. This could not be done +and was not done, because Poniatowski, advancing on the village +through the wood, met Tuchkov there barring his way, and could not and +did not turn the Russian position. + +The third order was: General Campan will move through the wood to +seize the first fortification. General Campan's division did not seize +the first fortification but was driven back, for on emerging from +the wood it had to reform under grapeshot, of which Napoleon was +unaware. + +The fourth order was: The vice-King will occupy the village +(Borodino) and cross by its three bridges, advancing to the same +heights as Morand's and Gdrard's divisions (for whose movements no +directions are given), which under his leadership will be directed +against the redoubt and come into line with the rest of the forces. + +As far as one can make out, not so much from this unintelligible +sentence as from the attempts the vice-King made to execute the orders +given him, he was to advance from the left through Borodino to the +redoubt while the divisions of Morand and Gerard were to advance +simultaneously from the front. + +All this, like the other parts of the disposition, was not and could +not be executed. After passing through Borodino the vice-King was +driven back to the Kolocha and could get no farther; while the +divisions of Morand and Gerard did not take the redoubt but were +driven back, and the redoubt was only taken at the end of the battle +by the cavalry (a thing probably unforeseen and not heard of by +Napoleon). So not one of the orders in the disposition was, or could +be, executed. But in the disposition it is said that, after the +fight has commenced in this manner, orders will be given in accordance +with the enemy's movements, and so it might be supposed that all +necessary arrangements would be made by Napoleon during the battle. +But this was not and could not be done, for during the whole battle +Napoleon was so far away that, as appeared later, he could not know +the course of the battle and not one of his orders during the fight +could be executed. + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +Many historians say that the French did not win the battle of +Borodino because Napoleon had a cold, and that if he had not had a +cold the orders he gave before and during the battle would have been +still more full of genius and Russia would have been lost and the face +of the world have been changed. To historians who believe that +Russia was shaped by the will of one man- Peter the Great- and that +France from a republic became an empire and French armies went to +Russia at the will of one man- Napoleon- to say that Russia remained a +power because Napoleon had a bad cold on the twenty-fourth of August +may seem logical and convincing. + +If it had depended on Napoleon's will to fight or not to fight the +battle of Borodino, and if this or that other arrangement depended +on his will, then evidently a cold affecting the manifestation of +his will might have saved Russia, and consequently the valet who +omitted to bring Napoleon his waterproof boots on the twenty-fourth +would have been the savior of Russia. Along that line of thought +such a deduction is indubitable, as indubitable as the deduction +Voltaire made in jest (without knowing what he was jesting at) when he +saw that the Massacre of St. Bartholomew was due to Charles IX's +stomach being deranged. But to men who do not admit that Russia was +formed by the will of one man, Peter I, or that the French Empire +was formed and the war with Russia begun by the will of one man, +Napoleon, that argument seems not merely untrue and irrational, but +contrary to all human reality. To the question of what causes historic +events another answer presents itself, namely, that the course of +human events is predetermined from on high- depends on the coincidence +of the wills of all who take part in the events, and that a Napoleon's +influence on the course of these events is purely external and +fictitious. + +Strange as at first glance it may seem to suppose that the +Massacre of St. Bartholomew was not due to Charles IX's will, though +he gave the order for it and thought it was done as a result of that +order; and strange as it may seem to suppose that the slaughter of +eighty thousand men at Borodino was not due to Napoleon's will, though +he ordered the commencement and conduct of the battle and thought it +was done because he ordered it; strange as these suppositions +appear, yet human dignity- which tells me that each of us is, if not +more at least not less a man than the great Napoleon- demands the +acceptance of that solution of the question, and historic +investigation abundantly confirms it. + +At the battle of Borodino Napoleon shot at no one and killed no one. +That was all done by the soldiers. Therefore it was not he who +killed people. + +The French soldiers went to kill and be killed at the battle of +Borodino not because of Napoleon's orders but by their own volition. +The whole army- French, Italian, German, Polish, and Dutch- hungry, +ragged, and weary of the campaign, felt at the sight of an army +blocking their road to Moscow that the wine was drawn and must be +drunk. Had Napoleon then forbidden them to fight the Russians, they +would have killed him and have proceeded to fight the Russians because +it was inevitable. + +When they heard Napoleon's proclamation offering them, as +compensation for mutilation and death, the words of posterity about +their having been in the battle before Moscow, they cried "Vive +l'Empereur!" just as they had cried "Vive l'Empereur!" at the sight of +the portrait of the boy piercing the terrestrial globe with a toy +stick, and just as they would have cried "Vive l'Empereur!" at any +nonsense that might be told them. There was nothing left for them to +do but cry "Vive l'Empereur!" and go to fight, in order to get food +and rest as conquerors in Moscow. So it was not because of +Napoleon's commands that they killed their fellow men. + +And it was not Napoleon who directed the course of the battle, for +none of his orders were executed and during the battle he did not know +what was going on before him. So the way in which these people +killed one another was not decided by Napoleon's will but occurred +independently of him, in accord with the will of hundreds of thousands +of people who took part in the common action. It only seemed to +Napoleon that it all took place by his will. And so the question +whether he had or had not a cold has no more historic interest than +the cold of the least of the transport soldiers. + +Moreover, the assertion made by various writers that his cold was +the cause of his dispositions not being as well planned as on former +occasions, and of his orders during the battle not being as good as +previously, is quite baseless, which again shows that Napoleon's +cold on the twenty-sixth of August was unimportant. + +The dispositions cited above are not at all worse, but are even +better, than previous dispositions by which he had won victories. +His pseudo-orders during the battle were also no worse than +formerly, but much the same as usual. These dispositions and orders +only seem worse than previous ones because the battle of Borodino +was the first Napoleon did not win. The profoundest and most excellent +dispositions and orders seem very bad, and every learned militarist +criticizes them with looks oks importance, when they relate to a +battle that has been lost, and the very worst dispositions and +orders seem very good, and serious people fill whole volumes to +demonstrate their merits, when they relate to a battle that has been +won. + +The dispositions drawn up by Weyrother for the battle of +Austerlitz were a model of perfection for that kind of composition, +but still they were criticized- criticized for their very +perfection, for their excessive minuteness. + +Napoleon at the battle of Borodino fulfilled his office as +representative of authority as well as, and even better than, at other +battles. He did nothing harmful to the progress of the battle; he +inclined to the most reasonable opinions, he made no confusion, did +not contradict himself, did not get frightened or run away from the +field of battle, but with his great tact and military experience +carried out his role of appearing to command, calmly and with dignity. + +CHAPTER XXIX + +On returning from a second inspection of the lines, Napoleon +remarked: + +"The chessmen are set up, the game will begin tomorrow!" + +Having ordered punch and summoned de Beausset, he began to talk to +him about Paris and about some changes he meant to make the Empress' +household, surprising the prefect by his memory of minute details +relating to the court. + +He showed an interest in trifles, joked about de Beausset's love +of travel, and chatted carelessly, as a famous, self-confident surgeon +who knows his job does when turning up his sleeves and putting on +his apron while a patient is being strapped to the operating table. +"The matter is in my hands and is clear and definite in my head. +When the times comes to set to work I shall do it as no one else +could, but now I can jest, and the more I jest and the calmer I am the +more tranquil and confident you ought to be, and the more amazed at my +genius." + +Having finished his second glass of punch, Napoleon went to rest +before the serious business which, he considered, awaited him next +day. He was so much interested in that task that he was unable to +sleep, and in spite of his cold which had grown worse from the +dampness of the evening, he went into the large division of the tent +at three o'clock in the morning, loudly blowing his nose. He asked +whether the Russians had not withdrawn, and was told that the +enemy's fires were still in the same places. He nodded approval. + +The adjutant in attendance came into the tent. + +"Well, Rapp, do you think we shall do good business today?" Napoleon +asked him. + +"Without doubt, sire," replied Rapp. + +Napoleon looked at him. + +"Do you remember, sire, what you did me the honor to say at +Smolensk?" continued Rapp. "The wine is drawn and must be drunk." + +Napoleon frowned and sat silent for a long time leaning his head +on his hand. + +"This poor army!" he suddenly remarked. "It has diminished greatly +since Smolensk. Fortune is frankly a courtesan, Rapp. I have always +said so and I am beginning to experience it. But the Guards, Rapp, the +Guards are intact?" he remarked interrogatively. + +"Yes, sire," replied Rapp. + +Napoleon took a lozenge, put it in his mouth, and glanced at his +watch. He was not sleepy and it was still not nearly morning. It was +impossible to give further orders for the sake of killing time, for +the orders had all been given and were now being executed. + +"Have the biscuits and rice been served out to the regiments of +the Guards?" asked Napoleon sternly. + +"Yes, sire." + +"The rice too?" + +Rapp replied that he had given the Emperor's order about the rice, +but Napoleon shook his head in dissatisfaction as if not believing +that his order had been executed. An attendant came in with punch. +Napoleon ordered another glass to be brought for Rapp, and silently +sipped his own. + +"I have neither taste nor smell," he remarked, sniffing at his +glass. "This cold is tiresome. They talk about medicine- what is the +good of medicine when it can't cure a cold! Corvisart gave me these +lozenges but they don't help at all. What can doctors cure? One +can't cure anything. Our body is a machine for living. It is organized +for that, it is its nature. Let life go on in it unhindered and let it +defend itself, it will do more than if you paralyze it by +encumbering it with remedies. Our body is like a perfect watch that +should go for a certain time; watchmaker cannot open it, he can only +adjust it by fumbling, and that blindfold.... Yes, our body is just +a machine for living, that is all." + +And having entered on the path of definition, of which he was +fond, Napoleon suddenly and unexpectedly gave a new one. + +"Do you know, Rapp, what military art is?" asked he. "It is the +art of being stronger than the enemy at a given moment. That's all." + +Rapp made no reply. + +"Tomorrow we shall have to deal with Kutuzov!" said Napoleon. "We +shall see! Do you remember at Braunau he commanded an army for three +weeks and did not once mount a horse to inspect his +entrenchments.... We shall see!" + +He looked at his watch. It was still only four o'clock. He did not +feel sleepy. The punch was finished and there was still nothing to do. +He rose, walked to and fro, put on a warm overcoat and a hat, and went +out of the tent. The night was dark and damp, a scarcely perceptible +moisture was descending from above. Near by, the campfires were +dimly burning among the French Guards, and in the distance those of +the Russian line shone through the smoke. The weather was calm, and +the rustle and tramp of the French troops already beginning to move to +take up their positions were clearly audible. + +Napoleon walked about in front of his tent, looked at the fires +and listened to these sounds, and as he was passing a tall guardsman +in a shaggy cap, who was standing sentinel before his tent and had +drawn himself up like a black pillar at sight of the Emperor, Napoleon +stopped in front of him. + +"What year did you enter the service?" he asked with that +affectation of military bluntness and geniality with which he always +addressed the soldiers. + +The man answered the question. + +"Ah! One of the old ones! Has your regiment had its rice?" + +"It has, Your Majesty." + +Napoleon nodded and walked away. + +At half-past five Napoleon rode to the village of Shevardino. + +It was growing light, the sky was clearing, only a single cloud +lay in the east. The abandoned campfires were burning themselves out +in the faint morning light. + +On the right a single deep report of a cannon resounded and died +away in the prevailing silence. Some minutes passed. A second and a +third report shook the air, then a fourth and a fifth boomed +solemnly near by on the right. + +The first shots had not yet ceased to reverberate before others rang +out and yet more were heard mingling with and overtaking one another. + +Napoleon with his suite rode up to the Shevardino Redoubt where he +dismounted. The game had begun. + +CHAPTER XXX + +On returning to Gorki after having seen Prince Andrew, Pierre +ordered his groom to get the horses ready and to call him early in the +morning, and then immediately fell asleep behind a partition in a +corner Boris had given up to him. + +Before he was thoroughly awake next morning everybody had already +left the hut. The panes were rattling in the little windows and his +groom was shaking him. + +"Your excellency! Your excellency! Your excellency!" he kept +repeating pertinaciously while he shook Pierre by the shoulder without +looking at him, having apparently lost hope of getting him to wake up. + +"What? Has it begun? Is it time?" Pierre asked, waking up. + +"Hear the firing," said the groom, a discharged soldier. "All the +gentlemen have gone out, and his Serene Highness himself rode past +long ago." + +Pierre dressed hastily and ran out to the porch. Outside all was +bright, fresh, dewy, and cheerful. The sun, just bursting forth from +behind a cloud that had concealed it, was shining, with rays still +half broken by the clouds, over the roofs of the street opposite, on +the dew-besprinkled dust of the road, on the walls of the houses, on +the windows, the fence, and on Pierre's horses standing before the +hut. The roar of guns sounded more distinct outside. An adjutant +accompanied by a Cossack passed by at a sharp trot. + +"It's time, Count; it's time!" cried the adjutant. + +Telling the groom to follow him with the horses, Pierre went down +the street to the knoll from which he had looked at the field of +battle the day before. A crowd of military men was assembled there, +members of the staff could be heard conversing in French, and +Kutuzov's gray head in a white cap with a red band was visible, his +gray nape sunk between his shoulders. He was looking through a field +glass down the highroad before him. + +Mounting the steps to the knoll Pierre looked at the scene before +him, spellbound by beauty. It was the same panorama he had admired +from that spot the day before, but now the whole place was full of +troops and covered by smoke clouds from the guns, and the slanting +rays of the bright sun, rising slightly to the left behind Pierre, +cast upon it through the clear morning air penetrating streaks of +rosy, golden tinted light and long dark shadows. The forest at the +farthest extremity of the panorama seemed carved in some precious +stone of a yellowish-green color; its undulating outline was +silhouetted against the horizon and was pierced beyond Valuevo by +the Smolensk highroad crowded with troops. Nearer at hand glittered +golden cornfields interspersed with copses. There were troops to be +seen everywhere, in front and to the right and left. All this was +vivid, majestic, and unexpected; but what impressed Pierre most of all +was the view of the battlefield itself, of Borodino and the hollows on +both sides of the Kolocha. + +Above the Kolocha, in Borodino and on both sides of it, especially +to the left where the Voyna flowing between its marshy banks falls +into the Kolocha, a mist had spread which seemed to melt, to dissolve, +and to become translucent when the brilliant sun appeared and +magically colored and outlined everything. The smoke of the guns +mingled with this mist, and over the whole expanse and through that +mist the rays of the morning sun were reflected, flashing back like +lightning from the water, from the dew, and from the bayonets of the +troops crowded together by the riverbanks and in Borodino. A white +church could be seen through the mist, and here and there the roofs of +huts in Borodino as well as dense masses of soldiers, or green +ammunition chests and ordnance. And all this moved, or seemed to move, +as the smoke and mist spread out over the whole space. Just as in +the mist-enveloped hollow near Borodino, so along the entire line +outside and above it and especially in the woods and fields to the +left, in the valleys and on the summits of the high ground, clouds +of powder smoke seemed continually to spring up out of nothing, now +singly, now several at a time, some translucent, others dense, +which, swelling, growing, rolling, and blending, extended over the +whole expanse. + +These puffs of smoke and (strange to say) the sound of sound of +the firing produced the chief beauty of the spectacle. + +"Puff!"- suddenly a round compact cloud of smoke was seen merging +from violet into gray and milky white, and "boom!" came the report a +second later. + +"Puff! puff!"- and two clouds arose pushing one another and blending +together; and "boom, boom!" came the sounds confirming what the eye +had seen. + +Pierre glanced round at the first cloud, which he had seen as a +round compact ball, and in its place already were balloons of smoke +floating to one side, and- "puff" (with a pause)- "puff, puff!" +three and then four more appeared and then from each, with the same +interval- "boom- boom, boom!" came the fine, firm, precise sounds in +reply. It seemed as if those smoke clouds sometimes ran and +sometimes stood still while woods, fields, and glittering bayonets ran +past them. From the left, over fields and bushes, those large balls of +smoke were continually appearing followed by their solemn reports, +while nearer still, in the hollows and woods, there burst from the +muskets small cloudlets that had no time to become balls, but had +their little echoes in just the same way. "Trakh-ta-ta-takh!" came the +frequent crackle of musketry, but it was irregular and feeble in +comparison with the reports of the cannon. + +Pierre wished to be there with that smoke, those shining bayonets, +that movement, and those sounds. He turned to look at Kutuzov and +his suite, to compare his impressions with those of others. They +were all looking at the field of battle as he was, and, as it seemed +to him, with the same feelings. All their faces were now shining +with that latent warmth of feeling Pierre had noticed the day before +and had fully understood after his talk with Prince Andrew. + +"Go, my dear fellow, go... and Christ be with you!" Kutuzov was +saying to a general who stood beside him, not taking his eye from +the battlefield. + +Having received this order the general passed by Pierre on his way +down the knoll. + +"To the crossing!" said the general coldly and sternly in reply to +one of the staff who asked where he was going. + +"I'll go there too, I too!" thought Pierre, and followed the +general. + +The general mounted a horse a Cossack had brought him. Pierre went +to his groom who was holding his horses and, asking which was the +quietest, clambered onto it, seized it by the mane, and turning out +his toes pressed his heels against its sides and, feeling that his +spectacles were slipping off but unable to let go of the mane and +reins, he galloped after the general, causing the staff officers to +smile as they watched him from the knoll. + +CHAPTER XXXI + +Having descended the hill the general after whom Pierre was +galloping turned sharply to the left, and Pierre, losing sight of him, +galloped in among some ranks of infantry marching ahead of him. He +tried to pass either in front of them or to the right or left, but +there were soldiers everywhere, all with expression and busy with some +unseen but evidently important task. They all gazed with the same +dissatisfied and inquiring expression at this stout man in a white +hat, who for some unknown reason threatened to trample them under +his horse's hoofs. + +"Why ride into the middle of the battalion?" one of them shouted +at him. + +Another prodded his horse with the butt end of a musket, and Pierre, +bending over his saddlebow and hardly able to control his shying +horse, galloped ahead of the soldiers where there was a free space. + +There was a bridge ahead of him, where other soldiers stood +firing. Pierre rode up to them. Without being aware of it he had +come to the bridge across the Kolocha between Gorki and Borodino, +which the French (having occupied Borodino) were attacking in the +first phase of the battle. Pierre saw that there was a bridge in front +of him and that soldiers were doing something on both sides of it +and in the meadow, among the rows of new-mown hay which he had taken +no notice of amid the smoke of the campfires the day before; but +despite the incessant firing going on there he had no idea that this +was the field of battle. He did not notice the sound of the bullets +whistling from every side, or the projectiles that flew over him, +did not see the enemy on the other side of the river, and for a long +time did not notice the killed and wounded, though many fell near him. +He looked about him with a smile which did not leave his face. + +"Why's that fellow in front of the line?" shouted somebody at him +again. + +"To the left!... Keep to the right!" the men shouted to him. + +Pierre went to the right, and unexpectedly encountered one of +Raevski's adjutants whom he knew. The adjutant looked angrily at +him, evidently also intending to shout at him, but on recognizing +him he nodded. + +"How have you got here?" he said, and galloped on. + +Pierre, feeling out of place there, having nothing to do, and afraid +of getting in someone's way again, galloped after the adjutant. + +"What's happening here? May I come with you?" he asked. + +"One moment, one moment!" replied the adjutant, and riding up to a +stout colonel who was standing in the meadow, he gave him some message +and then addressed Pierre. + +"Why have you come here, Count?" he asked with a smile. "Still +inquisitive?" + +"Yes, yes," assented Pierre. + +But the adjutant turned his horse about and rode on. + +"Here it's tolerable," said he, "but with Bagration on the left +flank they're getting it frightfully hot." + +"Really?" said Pierre. "Where is that?" + +"Come along with me to our knoll. We can get a view from there and +in our battery it is still bearable," said the adjutant. "Will you +come?" + +"Yes, I'll come with you," replied Pierre, looking round for his +groom. + +It was only now that he noticed wounded men staggering along or +being carried on stretchers. On that very meadow he had ridden over +the day before, a soldier was lying athwart the rows of scented hay, +with his head thrown awkwardly back and his shako off. + +"Why haven't they carried him away?" Pierre was about to ask, but +seeing the stern expression of the adjutant who was also looking +that way, he checked himself. + +Pierre did not find his groom and rode along the hollow with the +adjutant to Raevski's Redoubt. His horse lagged behind the +adjutant's and jolted him at every step. + +"You don't seem to be used to riding, Count?" remarked the adjutant. + +"No it's not that, but her action seems so jerky," said Pierre in +a puzzled tone. + +"Why... she's wounded!" said the adjutant. "In the off foreleg above +the knee. A bullet, no doubt. I congratulate you, Count, on your +baptism of fire!" + +Having ridden in the smoke past the Sixth Corps, behind the +artillery which had been moved forward and was in action, deafening +them with the noise of firing, they came to a small wood. There it was +cool and quiet, with a scent of autumn. Pierre and the adjutant +dismounted and walked up the hill on foot. + +"Is the general here?" asked the adjutant on reaching the knoll. + +"He was here a minute ago but has just gone that way," someone +told him, pointing to the right. + +The adjutant looked at Pierre as if puzzled what to do with him now. + +"Don't trouble about me," said Pierre. "I'll go up onto the knoll if +I may?" + +"Yes, do. You'll see everything from there and it's less +dangerous, and I'll come for you." + +Pierre went to the battery and the adjutant rode on. They did not +meet again, and only much later did Pierre learn that he lost an arm +that day. + +The knoll to which Pierre ascended was that famous one afterwards +known to the Russians as the Knoll Battery or Raevski's Redoubt, and +to the French as la grande redoute, la fatale redoute, la redoute du +centre, around which tens of thousands fell, and which the French +regarded as the key to the whole position. + +This redoubt consisted of a knoll, on three sides of which +trenches had been dug. Within the entrenchment stood ten guns that +were being fired through openings in the earthwork. + +In line with the knoll on both sides stood other guns which also +fired incessantly. A little behind the guns stood infantry. When +ascending that knoll Pierre had no notion that this spot, on which +small trenches had been dug and from which a few guns were firing, was +the most important point of the battle. + +On the contrary, just because he happened to be there he thought +it one of the least significant parts of the field. + +Having reached the knoll, Pierre sat down at one end of a trench +surrounding the battery and gazed at what was going on around him with +an unconsciously happy smile. Occasionally he rose and walked about +the battery still with that same smile, trying not to obstruct the +soldiers who were loading, hauling the guns, and continually running +past him with bags and charges. The guns of that battery were being +fired continually one after another with a deafening roar, +enveloping the whole neighborhood in powder smoke. + +In contrast with the dread felt by the infantrymen placed in +support, here in the battery where a small number of men busy at their +work were separated from the rest by a trench, everyone experienced +a common and as it were family feeling of animation. + +The intrusion of Pierre's nonmilitary figure in a white hat made +an unpleasant impression at first. The soldiers looked askance at +him with surprise and even alarm as they went past him. The senior +artillery officer, a tall, long-legged, pockmarked man, moved over +to Pierre as if to see the action of the farthest gun and looked at +him with curiosity. + +A young round-faced officer, quite a boy still and evidently only +just out of the Cadet College, who was zealously commanding the two +guns entrusted to him, addressed Pierre sternly. + +"Sir," he said, "permit me to ask you to stand aside. You must not +be here." + +The soldiers shook their heads disapprovingly as they looked at +Pierre. But when they had convinced themselves that this man in the +white hat was doing no harm, but either sat quietly on the slope of +the trench with a shy smile or, politely making way for the +soldiers, paced up and down the battery under fire as calmly as if +he were on a boulevard, their feeling of hostile distrust gradually +began to change into a kindly and bantering sympathy, such as soldiers +feel for their dogs, cocks, goats, and in general for the animals that +live with the regiment. The men soon accepted Pierre into their +family, adopted him, gave him a nickname ("our gentleman"), and made +kindly fun of him among themselves. + +A shell tore up the earth two paces from Pierre and he looked around +with a smile as he brushed from his clothes some earth it had thrown +up. + +"And how's it you're not afraid, sir, really now?" a red-faced, +broad-shouldered soldier asked Pierre, with a grin that disclosed a +set of sound, white teeth. + +"Are you afraid, then?" said Pierre. + +"What else do you expect?" answered the soldier. "She has no +mercy, you know! When she comes spluttering down, out go your innards. +One can't help being afraid," he said laughing. + +Several of the men, with bright kindly faces, stopped beside Pierre. +They seemed not to have expected him to talk like anybody else, and +the discovery that he did so delighted them. + +"It's the business of us soldiers. But in a gentleman it's +wonderful! There's a gentleman for you!" + +"To your places!" cried the young officer to the men gathered +round Pierre. + +The young officer was evidently exercising his duties for the +first or second time and therefore treated both his superiors and +the men with great precision and formality. + +The booming cannonade and the fusillade of musketry were growing +more intense over the whole field, especially to the left where +Bagration's fleches were, but where Pierre was the smoke of the firing +made it almost impossible to distinguish anything. Moreover, his whole +attention was engrossed by watching the family circle- separated +from all else- formed by the men in the battery. His first unconscious +feeling of joyful animation produced by the sights and sounds of the +battlefield was now replaced by another, especially since he had +seen that soldier lying alone in the hayfield. Now, seated on the +slope of the trench, he observed the faces of those around him. + +By ten o'clock some twenty men had already been carried away from +the battery; two guns were smashed and cannon balls fell more and more +frequently on the battery and spent bullets buzzed and whistled +around. But the men in the battery seemed not to notice this, and +merry voices and jokes were heard on all sides. + +"A live one!" shouted a man as a whistling shell approached. + +"Not this way! To the infantry!" added another with loud laughter, +seeing the shell fly past and fall into the ranks of the supports. + +"Are you bowing to a friend, eh?" remarked another, chaffing a +peasant who ducked low as a cannon ball flew over. + +Several soldiers gathered by the wall of the trench, looking out +to see what was happening in front. + +"They've withdrawn the front line, it has retired," said they, +pointing over the earthwork. + +"Mind your own business," an old sergeant shouted at them. "If +they've retired it's because there's work for them to do farther +back." + +And the sergeant, taking one of the men by the shoulders, gave him a +shove with his knee. This was followed by a burst of laughter. + +"To the fifth gun, wheel it up!" came shouts from one side. + +"Now then, all together, like bargees!" rose the merry voices of +those who were moving the gun. + +"Oh, she nearly knocked our gentleman's hat off!" cried the +red-faced humorist, showing his teeth chaffing Pierre. "Awkward +baggage!" he added reproachfully to a cannon ball that struck a cannon +wheel and a man's leg. + +"Now then, you foxes!" said another, laughing at some militiamen +who, stooping low, entered the battery to carry away the wounded man. + +"So this gruel isn't to your taste? Oh, you crows! You're scared!" +they shouted at the militiamen who stood hesitating before the man +whose leg had been torn off. + +"There, lads... oh, oh!" they mimicked the peasants, "they don't +like it at all!" + +Pierre noticed that after every ball that hit the redoubt, and after +every loss, the liveliness increased more and more. + +As the flames of the fire hidden within come more and more vividly +and rapidly from an approaching thundercloud, so, as if in +opposition to what was taking place, the lightning of hidden fire +growing more and more intense glowed in the faces of these men. + +Pierre did not look out at the battlefield and was not concerned +to know what was happening there; he was entirely absorbed in watching +this fire which burned ever more brightly and which he felt was +flaming up in the same way in his own soul. + +At ten o'clock the infantry that had been among the bushes in +front of the battery and along the Kamenka streamlet retreated. From +the battery they could be seen running back past it carrying their +wounded on their muskets. A general with his suite came to the +battery, and after speaking to the colonel gave Pierre an angry look +and went away again having ordered the infantry supports behind the +battery to lie down, so as to be less exposed to fire. After this from +amid the ranks of infantry to the right of the battery came the +sound of a drum and shouts of command, and from the battery one saw +how those ranks of infantry moved forward. + +Pierre looked over the wall of the trench and was particularly +struck by a pale young officer who, letting his sword hang down, was +walking backwards and kept glancing uneasily around. + +The ranks of the infantry disappeared amid the smoke but their +long-drawn shout and rapid musketry firing could still be heard. A few +minutes later crowds of wounded men and stretcher-bearers came back +from that direction. Projectiles began to fall still more frequently +in the battery. Several men were lying about who had not been removed. +Around the cannon the men moved still more briskly and busily. No +one any longer took notice of Pierre. Once or twice he was shouted +at for being in the way. The senior officer moved with big, rapid +strides from one gun to another with a frowning face. The young +officer, with his face still more flushed, commanded the men more +scrupulously than ever. The soldiers handed up the charges, turned, +loaded, and did their business with strained smartness. They gave +little jumps as they walked, as though they were on springs. + +The stormcloud had come upon them, and in every face the fire +which Pierre had watched kindle burned up brightly. Pierre standing +beside the commanding officer. The young officer, his hand to his +shako, ran up to his superior. + +"I have the honor to report, sir, that only eight rounds are left. +Are we to continue firing?" he asked. + +"Grapeshot!" the senior shouted, without answering the question, +looking over the wall of the trench. + +Suddenly something happened: the young officer gave a gasp and +bending double sat down on the ground like a bird shot on the wing. +Everything became strange, confused, and misty in Pierre's eyes. + +One cannon ball after another whistled by and struck the +earthwork, a soldier, or a gun. Pierre, who had not noticed these +sounds before, now heard nothing else. On the right of the battery +soldiers shouting "Hurrah!" were running not forwards but backwards, +it seemed to Pierre. + +A cannon ball struck the very end of the earth work by which he +was standing, crumbling down the earth; a black ball flashed before +his eyes and at the same instant plumped into something. Some +militiamen who were entering the battery ran back. + +"All with grapeshot!" shouted the officer. + +The sergeant ran up to the officer and in a frightened whisper +informed him (as a butler at dinner informs his master that there is +no more of some wine asked for) that there were no more charges. + +"The scoundrels! What are they doing?" shouted the officer, +turning to Pierre. + +The officer's face was red and perspiring and his eyes glittered +under his frowning brow. + +"Run to the reserves and bring up the ammunition boxes!" he +yelled, angrily avoiding Pierre with his eyes and speaking to his men. + +"I'll go," said Pierre. + +The officer, without answering him, strode across to the opposite +side. + +"Don't fire.... Wait!" he shouted. + +The man who had been ordered to go for ammunition stumbled against +Pierre. + +"Eh, sir, this is no place for you," said he, and ran down the +slope. + +Pierre ran after him, avoiding the spot where the young officer +was sitting. + +One cannon ball, another, and a third flew over him, falling in +front, beside, and behind him. Pierre ran down the slope. "Where am +I going?" he suddenly asked himself when he was already near the green +ammunition wagons. He halted irresolutely, not knowing whether to +return or go on. Suddenly a terrible concussion threw him backwards to +the ground. At the same instant he was dazzled by a great flash of +flame, and immediately a deafening roar, crackling, and whistling made +his ears tingle. + +When he came to himself he was sitting on the ground leaning on +his hands; the ammunition wagons he had been approaching no longer +existed, only charred green boards and rags littered the scorched +grass, and a horse, dangling fragments of its shaft behind it, +galloped past, while another horse lay, like Pierre, on the ground, +uttering prolonged and piercing cries. + +CHAPTER XXXII + +Beside himself with terror Pierre jumped up and ran back to the +battery, as to the only refuge from the horrors that surrounded him. + +On entering the earthwork he noticed that there were men doing +something there but that no shots were being fired from the battery. +He had no time to realize who these men were. He saw the senior +officer lying on the earth wall with his back turned as if he were +examining something down below and that one of the soldiers he had +noticed before was struggling forward shouting "Brothers!" and +trying to free himself from some men who were holding him by the +arm. He also saw something else that was strange. + +But he had not time to realize that the colonel had been killed, +that the soldier shouting "Brothers!" was a prisoner, and that another +man had been bayoneted in the back before his eyes, for hardly had +he run into the redoubt before a thin, sallow-faced, perspiring man in +a blue uniform rushed on him sword in hand, shouting something. +Instinctively guarding against the shock- for they had been running +together at full speed before they saw one another- Pierre put out his +hands and seized the man (a French officer) by the shoulder with one +hand and by the throat with the other. The officer, dropping his +sword, seized Pierre by his collar. + +For some seconds they gazed with frightened eyes at one another's +unfamiliar faces and both were perplexed at what they had done and +what they were to do next. "Am I taken prisoner or have I taken him +prisoner?" each was thinking. But the French officer was evidently +more inclined to think he had been taken prisoner because Pierre's +strong hand, impelled by instinctive fear, squeezed his throat ever +tighter and tighter. The Frenchman was about to say something, when +just above their heads, terrible and low, a cannon ball whistled, +and it seemed to Pierre that the French officer's head had been torn +off, so swiftly had he ducked it. + +Pierre too bent his head and let his hands fall. Without further +thought as to who had taken whom prisoner, the Frenchman ran back to +the battery and Pierre ran down the slope stumbling over the dead +and wounded who, it seemed to him, caught at his feet. But before he +reached the foot of the knoll he was met by a dense crowd of Russian +soldiers who, stumbling, tripping up, and shouting, ran merrily and +wildly toward the battery. (This was the attack for which Ermolov +claimed the credit, declaring that only his courage and good luck made +such a feat possible: it was the attack in which he was said to have +thrown some St. George's Crosses he had in his pocket into the battery +for the first soldiers to take who got there.) + +The French who had occupied the battery fled, and our troops +shouting "Hurrah!" pursued them so far beyond the battery that it +was difficult to call them back. + +The prisoners were brought down from the battery and among them +was a wounded French general, whom the officers surrounded. Crowds +of wounded- some known to Pierre and some unknown- Russians and +French, with faces distorted by suffering, walked, crawled, and were +carried on stretchers from the battery. Pierre again went up onto +the knoll where he had spent over an hour, and of that family circle +which had received him as a member he did not find a single one. There +were many dead whom he did not know, but some he recognized. The young +officer still sat in the same way, bent double, in a pool of blood +at the edge of the earth wall. The red-faced man was still +twitching, but they did not carry him away. + +Pierre ran down the slope once more. + +"Now they will stop it, now they will be horrified at what they have +done!" he thought, aimlessly going toward a crowd of stretcher bearers +moving from the battlefield. + +But behind the veil of smoke the sun was still high, and in front +and especially to the left, near Semenovsk, something seemed to be +seething in the smoke, and the roar of cannon and musketry did not +diminish, but even increased to desperation like a man who, +straining himself, shrieks with all his remaining strength. + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +The chief action of the battle of Borodino was fought within the +seven thousand feet between Borodino and Bagration's fleches. Beyond +that space there was, on the one side, a demonstration made by the +Russians with Uvarov's cavalry at midday, and on the other side, +beyond Utitsa, Poniatowski's collision with Tuchkov; but these two +were detached and feeble actions in comparison with what took place in +the center of the battlefield. On the field between Borodino and the +fleches, beside the wood, the chief action of the day took place on an +open space visible from both sides and was fought in the simplest +and most artless way. + +The battle began on both sides with a cannonade from several hundred +guns. + +Then when the whole field was covered with smoke, two divisions, +Campan's and Dessaix's, advanced from the French right, while +Murat's troops advanced on Borodino from their left. + +From the Shevardino Redoubt where Napoleon was standing the +fleches were two thirds of a mile away, and it was more than a mile as +the crow flies to Borodino, so that Napoleon could not see what was +happening there, especially as the smoke mingling with the mist hid +the whole locality. The soldiers of Dessaix's division advancing +against the fleches could only be seen till they had entered the +hollow that lay between them and the fleches. As soon as they had +descended into that hollow, the smoke of the guns and musketry on +the fleches grew so dense that it covered the whole approach on that +side of it. Through the smoke glimpses could be caught of something +black- probably men- and at times the glint of bayonets. But whether +they were moving or stationary, whether they were French or Russian, +could not be discovered from the Shevardino Redoubt. + +The sun had risen brightly and its slanting rays struck straight +into Napoleon's face as, shading his eyes with his hand, he looked +at the fleches. The smoke spread out before them, and at times it +looked as if the smoke were moving, at times as if the troops moved. +Sometimes shouts were heard through the firing, but it was +impossible to tell what was being done there. + +Napoleon, standing on the knoll, looked through a field glass, and +in its small circlet saw smoke and men, sometimes his own and +sometimes Russians, but when he looked again with the naked eye, he +could not tell where what he had seen was. + +He descended the knoll and began walking up and down before it. + +Occasionally he stopped, listened to the firing, and gazed +intently at the battlefield. + +But not only was it impossible to make out what was happening from +where he was standing down below, or from the knoll above on which +some of his generals had taken their stand, but even from the +fleches themselves- in which by this time there were now Russian and +now French soldiers, alternately or together, dead, wounded, alive, +frightened, or maddened- even at those fleches themselves it was +impossible to make out what was taking place. There for several +hours amid incessant cannon and musketry fire, now Russians were +seen alone, now Frenchmen alone, now infantry, and now cavalry: they +appeared, fired, fell, collided, not knowing what to do with one +another, screamed, and ran back again. + +From the battlefield adjutants he had sent out, and orderlies from +his marshals, kept galloping up to Napoleon with reports of the +progress of the action, but all these reports were false, both because +it was impossible in the heat of battle to say what was happening at +any given moment and because many of the adjutants did not go to the +actual place of conflict but reported what they had heard from others; +and also because while an adjutant was riding more than a mile to +Napoleon circumstances changed and the news he brought was already +becoming false. Thus an adjutant galloped up from Murat with tidings +that Borodino had been occupied and the bridge over the Kolocha was in +the hands of the French. The adjutant asked whether Napoleon wished +the troops to cross it? Napoleon gave orders that the troops should +form up on the farther side and wait. But before that order was given- +almost as soon in fact as the adjutant had left Borodino- the bridge +had been retaken by the Russians and burned, in the very skirmish at +which Pierre had been present at the beginning of the battle. + +An adjutant galloped up from the fleches with a pale and +frightened face and reported to Napoleon that their attack had been +repulsed, Campan wounded, and Davout killed; yet at the very time +the adjutant had been told that the French had been repulsed, the +fleches had in fact been recaptured by other French troops, and Davout +was alive and only slightly bruised. On the basis of these necessarily +untrustworthy reports Napoleon gave his orders, which had either +been executed before he gave them or could not be and were not +executed. + +The marshals and generals, who were nearer to the field of battle +but, like Napoleon, did not take part in the actual fighting and +only occasionally went within musket range, made their own +arrangements without asking Napoleon and issued orders where and in +what direction to fire and where cavalry should gallop and infantry +should run. But even their orders, like Napoleon's, were seldom +carried out, and then but partially. For the most part things happened +contrary to their orders. Soldiers ordered to advance ran back on +meeting grapeshot; soldiers ordered to remain where they were, +suddenly, seeing Russians unexpectedly before them, sometimes rushed +back and sometimes forward, and the cavalry dashed without orders in +pursuit of the flying Russians. In this way two cavalry regiments +galloped through the Semenovsk hollow and as soon as they reached +the top of the incline turned round and galloped full speed back +again. The infantry moved in the same way, sometimes running to +quite other places than those they were ordered to go to. All orders +as to where and when to move the guns, when to send infantry to +shoot or horsemen to ride down the Russian infantry- all such orders +were given by the officers on the spot nearest to the units concerned, +without asking either Ney, Davout, or Murat, much less Napoleon. +They did not fear getting into trouble for not fulfilling orders or +for acting on their own initiative, for in battle what is at stake +is what is dearest to man- his own life- and it sometimes seems that +safety lies in running back, sometimes in running forward; and these +men who were right in the heat of the battle acted according to the +mood of the moment. In reality, however, all these movements forward +and backward did not improve or alter the position of the troops. +All their rushing and galloping at one another did little harm, the +harm of disablement and death was caused by the balls and bullets that +flew over the fields on which these men were floundering about. As +soon as they left the place where the balls and bullets were flying +about, their superiors, located in the background, re-formed them +and brought them under discipline and under the influence of that +discipline led them back to the zone of fire, where under the +influence of fear of death they lost their discipline and rushed about +according to the chance promptings of the throng. + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +Napoleon's generals- Davout, Ney, and Murat, who were near that +region of fire and sometimes even entered it- repeatedly led into it +huge masses of well-ordered troops. But contrary to what had always +happened in their former battles, instead of the news they expected of +the enemy's flight, these orderly masses returned thence as +disorganized and terrified mobs. The generals re-formed them, but +their numbers constantly decreased. In the middle of the day Murat +sent his adjutant to Napoleon to demand reinforcements. + +Napoleon sat at the foot of the knoll, drinking punch, when +Murat's adjutant galloped up with an assurance that the Russians would +be routed if His Majesty would let him have another division. + +"Reinforcements?" said Napoleon in a tone of stern surprise, looking +at the adjutant- a handsome lad with long black curls arranged like +Murat's own- as though he did not understand his words. + +"Reinforcements!" thought Napoleon to himself. "How can they need +reinforcements when they already have half the army directed against a +weak, unentrenched Russian wing?" + +"Tell the King of Naples," said he sternly, "that it is not noon +yet, and I don't yet see my chessboard clearly. Go!..." + +The handsome boy adjutant with the long hair sighed deeply without +removing his hand from his hat and galloped back to where men were +being slaughtered. + +Napoleon rose and having summoned Caulaincourt and Berthier began +talking to them about matters unconnected with the battle. + +In the midst of this conversation, which was beginning to interest +Napoleon, Berthier's eyes turned to look at a general with a suite, +who was galloping toward the knoll on a lathering horse. It was +Belliard. Having dismounted he went up to the Emperor with rapid +strides and in a loud voice began boldly demonstrating the necessity +of sending reinforcements. He swore on his honor that the Russians +were lost if the Emperor would give another division. + +Napoleon shrugged his shoulders and continued to pace up and down +without replying. Belliard began talking loudly and eagerly to the +generals of the suite around him. + +"You are very fiery, Belliard," said Napoleon, when he again came up +to the general. "In the heat of a battle it is easy to make a mistake. +Go and have another look and then come back to me." + +Before Belliard was out of sight, a messenger from another part of +the battlefield galloped up. + +"Now then, what do you want?" asked Napoleon in the tone of a man +irritated at being continually disturbed. + +"Sire, the prince..." began the adjutant. + +"Asks for reinforcements?" said Napoleon with an angry gesture. + +The adjutant bent his head affirmatively and began to report, but +the Emperor turned from him, took a couple of steps, stopped, came +back, and called Berthier. + +"We must give reserves," he said, moving his arms slightly apart. +"Who do you think should be sent there?" he asked of Berthier (whom he +subsequently termed "that gosling I have made an eagle"). + +"Send Claparede's division, sire," replied Berthier, who knew all +the divisions regiments, and battalions by heart. + +Napoleon nodded assent. + +The adjutant galloped to Claparede's division and a few minutes +later the Young Guards stationed behind the knoll moved forward. +Napoleon gazed silently in that direction. + +"No!" he suddenly said to Berthier. "I can't send Claparede. Send +Friant's division." + +Though there was no advantage in sending Friant's division instead +of Claparede's, and even in obvious inconvenience and delay in +stopping Claparede and sending Friant now, the order was carried out +exactly. Napoleon did not notice that in regard to his army he was +playing the part of a doctor who hinders by his medicines- a role he +so justly understood and condemned. + +Friant's division disappeared as the others had done into the +smoke of the battlefield. From all sides adjutants continued to arrive +at a gallop and as if by agreement all said the same thing. They all +asked for reinforcements and all said that the Russians were holding +their positions and maintaining a hellish fire under which the +French army was melting away. + +Napoleon sat on a campstool, wrapped in thought. + +M. de Beausset, the man so fond of travel, having fasted since +morning, came up to the Emperor and ventured respectfully to suggest +lunch to His Majesty. + +"I hope I may now congratulate Your Majesty on a victory?" said he. + +Napoleon silently shook his head in negation. Assuming the +negation to refer only to the victory and not to the lunch, M. de +Beausset ventured with respectful jocularity to remark that there is +no reason for not having lunch when one can get it. + +"Go away..." exclaimed Napoleon suddenly and morosely, and turned +aside. + +A beatific smile of regret, repentance, and ecstasy beamed on M. +de Beausset's face and he glided away to the other generals. + +Napoleon was experiencing a feeling of depression like that of an +ever-lucky gambler who, after recklessly flinging money about and +always winning, suddenly just when he has calculated all the chances +of the game, finds that the more he considers his play the more surely +he loses. + +His troops were the same, his generals the same, the same +preparations had been made, the same dispositions, and the same +proclamation courte et energique, he himself was still the same: he +knew that and knew that he was now even more experienced and +skillful than before. Even the enemy was the same as at Austerlitz and +Friedland- yet the terrible stroke of his arm had supernaturally +become impotent. + +All the old methods that had been unfailingly crowned with +success: the concentration of batteries on one point, an attack by +reserves to break the enemy's line, and a cavalry attack by "the men +of iron," all these methods had already been employed, yet not only +was there no victory, but from all sides came the same news of +generals killed and wounded, of reinforcements needed, of the +impossibility of driving back the Russians, and of disorganization +among his own troops. + +Formerly, after he had given two or three orders and uttered a few +phrases, marshals and adjutants had come galloping up with +congratulations and happy faces, announcing the trophies taken, the +corps of prisoners, bundles of enemy eagles and standards, cannon +and stores, and Murat had only begged leave to loose the cavalry to +gather in the baggage wagons. So it had been at Lodi, Marengo, Arcola, +Jena, Austerlitz, Wagram, and so on. But now something strange was +happening to his troops. + +Despite news of the capture of the fleches, Napoleon saw that this +was not the same, not at all the same, as what had happened in his +former battles. He saw that what he was feeling was felt by all the +men about him experienced in the art of war. All their faces looked +dejected, and they all shunned one another's eyes- only a de +Beausset could fail to grasp the meaning of what was happening. + +But Napoleon with his long experience of war well knew the meaning +of a battle not gained by the attacking side in eight hours, after all +efforts had been expended. He knew that it was a lost battle and +that the least accident might now- with the fight balanced on such a +strained center- destroy him and his army. + +When he ran his mind over the whole of this strange Russian campaign +in which not one battle had been won, and in which not a flag, or +cannon, or army corps had been captured in two months, when he +looked at the concealed depression on the faces around him and heard +reports of the Russians still holding their ground- a terrible feeling +like a nightmare took possession of him, and all the unlucky accidents +that might destroy him occurred to his mind. The Russians might fall +on his left wing, might break through his center, he himself might +be killed by a stray cannon ball. All this was possible. In former +battles he had only considered the possibilities of success, but now +innumerable unlucky chances presented themselves, and he expected them +all. Yes, it was like a dream in which a man fancies that a ruffian is +coming to attack him, and raises his arm to strike that ruffian a +terrible blow which he knows should annihilate him, but then feels +that his arm drops powerless and limp like a rag, and the horror of +unavoidable destruction seizes him in his helplessness. + +The news that the Russians were attacking the left flank of the +French army aroused that horror in Napoleon. He sat silently on a +campstool below the knoll, with head bowed and elbows on his knees. +Berthier approached and suggested that they should ride along the line +to ascertain the position of affairs. + +"What? What do you say?" asked Napoleon. "Yes, tell them to bring me +my horse." + +He mounted and rode toward Semenovsk. + +Amid the powder smoke, slowly dispersing over the whole space +through which Napoleon rode, horses and men were lying in pools of +blood, singly or in heaps. Neither Napoleon nor any of his generals +had ever before seen such horrors or so many slain in such a small +area. The roar of guns, that had not ceased for ten hours, wearied the +ear and gave a peculiar significance to the spectacle, as music does +to tableaux vivants. Napoleon rode up the high ground at Semenovsk, +and through the smoke saw ranks of men in uniforms of a color +unfamiliar to him. They were Russians. + +The Russians stood in serried ranks behind Semenovsk village and its +knoll, and their guns boomed incessantly along their line and sent +forth clouds of smoke. It was no longer a battle: it was a +continuous slaughter which could be of no avail either to the French +or the Russians. Napoleon stopped his horse and again fell into the +reverie from which Berthier had aroused him. He could not stop what +was going on before him and around him and was supposed to be directed +by him and to depend on him, and from its lack of success this affair, +for the first time, seemed to him unnecessary and horrible. + +One of the generals rode up to Napoleon and ventured to offer to +lead the Old Guard into action. Ney and Berthier, standing near +Napoleon, exchanged looks and smiled contemptuously at this +general's senseless offer. + +Napoleon bowed his head and remained silent a long time. + +"At eight hundred leagues from France, I will not have my Guard +destroyed!" he said, and turning his horse rode back to Shevardino. + +CHAPTER XXXV + +On the rug-covered bench where Pierre had seen him in the morning +sat Kutuzov, his gray head hanging, his heavy body relaxed. He gave no +orders, but only assented to or dissented from what others suggested. + +"Yes, yes, do that," he replied to various proposals. "Yes, yes: go, +dear boy, and have a look," he would say to one or another of those +about him; or, "No, don't, we'd better wait!" He listened to the +reports that were brought him and gave directions when his +subordinates demanded that of him; but when listening to the reports +it seemed as if he were not interested in the import of the words +spoken, but rather in something else- in the expression of face and +tone of voice of those who were reporting. By long years of military +experience he knew, and with the wisdom of age understood, that it +is impossible for one man to direct hundreds of thousands of others +struggling with death, and he knew that the result of a battle is +decided not by the orders of a commander in chief, nor the place where +the troops are stationed, nor by the number of cannon or of +slaughtered men, but by that intangible force called the spirit of the +army, and he watched this force and guided it in as far as that was in +his power. + +Kutuzov's general expression was one of concentrated quiet +attention, and his face wore a strained look as if he found it +difficult to master the fatigue of his old and feeble body. + +At eleven o'clock they brought him news that the fleches captured by +the French had been retaken, but that Prince Bagration was wounded. +Kutuzov groaned and swayed his head. + +"Ride over to Prince Peter Ivanovich and find out about it exactly," +he said to one of his adjutants, and then turned to the Duke of +Wurttemberg who was standing behind him. + +"Will Your Highness please take command of the first army?" + +Soon after the duke's departure- before he could possibly have +reached Semenovsk- his adjutant came back from him and told Kutuzov +that the duke asked for more troops. + +Kutuzov made a grimace and sent an order to Dokhturov to take over +the command of the first army, and a request to the duke- whom he said +he could not spare at such an important moment- to return to him. When +they brought him news that Murat had been taken prisoner, and the +staff officers congratulated him, Kutuzov smiled. + +"Wait a little, gentlemen," said he. "The battle is won, and there +is nothing extraordinary in the capture of Murat. Still, it is +better to wait before we rejoice." + +But he sent an adjutant to take the news round the army. + +When Scherbinin came galloping from the left flank with news that +the French had captured the fleches and the village of Semenovsk, +Kutuzov, guessing by the sounds of the battle and by Scherbinin's +looks that the news was bad, rose as if to stretch his legs and, +taking Scherbinin's arm, led him aside. + +"Go, my dear fellow," he said to Ermolov, "and see whether something +can't be done." + +Kutuzov was in Gorki, near the center of the Russian position. The +attack directed by Napoleon against our left flank had been several +times repulsed. In the center the French had not got beyond +Borodino, and on their left flank Uvarov's cavalry had put the +French to flight. + +Toward three o'clock the French attacks ceased. On the faces of +all who came from the field of battle, and of those who stood around +him, Kutuzov noticed an expression of extreme tension. He was +satisfied with the day's success- a success exceeding his +expectations, but the old man's strength was failing him. Several +times his head dropped low as if it were falling and he dozed off. +Dinner was brought him. + +Adjutant General Wolzogen, the man who when riding past Prince +Andrew had said, "the war should be extended widely," and whom +Bagration so detested, rode up while Kutuzov was at dinner. Wolzogen +had come from Barclay de Tolly to report on the progress of affairs on +the left flank. The sagacious Barclay de Tolly, seeing crowds of +wounded men running back and the disordered rear of the army, +weighed all the circumstances, concluded that the battle was lost, and +sent his favorite officer to the commander in chief with that news. + +Kutuzov was chewing a piece of roast chicken with difficulty and +glanced at Wolzogen with eyes that brightened under their puckering +lids. + +Wolzogen, nonchalantly stretching his legs, approached Kutuzov +with a half-contemptuous smile on his lips, scarcely touching the peak +of his cap. + +He treated his Serene Highness with a somewhat affected +nonchalance intended to show that, as a highly trained military man, +he left it to Russians to make an idol of this useless old man, but +that he knew whom he was dealing with. "Der alte Herr" (as in their +own set the Germans called Kutuzov) "is making himself very +comfortable," thought Wolzogen, and looking severely at the dishes +in front of Kutuzov he began to report to "the old gentleman" the +position of affairs on the left flank as Barclay had ordered him to +and as he himself had seen and understood it. + +"All the points of our position are in the enemy's hands and we +cannot dislodge them for lack of troops, the men are running away +and it is impossible to stop them," he reported. + +Kutuzov ceased chewing and fixed an astonished gaze on Wolzogen, +as if not understand what was said to him. Wolzogen, noticing "the old +gentleman's" agitation, said with a smile: + +"I have not considered it right to conceal from your Serene Highness +what I have seen. The troops are in complete disorder..." + +"You have seen? You have seen?..." Kutuzov shouted frowning, and +rising quickly he went up to Wolzogen. + +"How... how dare you!..." he shouted, choking and making a +threatening gesture with his trembling arms: "How dare you, sir, say +that to me? You know nothing about it. Tell General Barclay from me +that his information is incorrect and that the real course of the +battle is better known to me, the commander in chief, than to him." + +Wolzogen was about to make a rejoinder, but Kutuzov interrupted him. + +"The enemy has been repulsed on the left and defeated on the right +flank. If you have seen amiss, sir, do not allow yourself to say +what you don't know! Be so good as to ride to General Barclay and +inform him of my firm intention to attack the enemy tomorrow," said +Kutuzov sternly. + +All were silent, and the only sound audible was the heavy +breathing of the panting old general. + +"They are repulsed everywhere, for which I thank God and our brave +army! The enemy is beaten, and tomorrow we shall drive him from the +sacred soil of Russia," said Kutuzov crossing himself, and he suddenly +sobbed as his eyes filled with tears. + +Wolzogen, shrugging his shoulders and curling his lips, stepped +silently aside, marveling at "the old gentleman's" conceited +stupidity. + +"Ah, here he is, my hero!" said Kutuzov to a portly, handsome, +dark-haired general who was just ascending the knoll. + +This was Raevski, who had spent the whole day at the most +important part of the field of Borodino. + +Raevski reported that the troops were firmly holding their ground +and that the French no longer ventured to attack. + +After hearing him, Kutuzov said in French: + +"Then you do not think, like some others, that we must retreat?" + +"On the contrary, your Highness, in indecisive actions it is +always the most stubborn who remain victors," replied Raevski, "and in +my opinion..." + +"Kaysarov!" Kutuzov called to his adjutant. "Sit down and write +out the order of the day for tomorrow. And you," he continued, +addressing another, "ride along the line and that tomorrow we attack." + +While Kutuzov was talking to Raevski and dictating the order of +the day, Wolzogen returned from Barclay and said that General +Barclay wished to have written confirmation of the order the field +marshal had given. + +Kutuzov, without looking at Wolzogen, gave directions for the +order to be written out which the former commander in chief, to +avoid personal responsibility, very judiciously wished to receive. + +And by means of that mysterious indefinable bond which maintains +throughout an army one and the same temper, known as "the spirit of +the army," and which constitutes the sinew of war, Kutuzov's words, +his order for a battle next day, immediately became known from one end +of the army to the other. + +It was far from being the same words or the same order that +reached the farthest links of that chain. The tales passing from mouth +to mouth at different ends of the army did not even resemble what +Kutuzov had said, but the sense of his words spread everywhere because +what he said was not the outcome of cunning calculations, but of a +feeling that lay in the commander in chief's soul as in that of +every Russian. + +And on learning that tomorrow they were to attack the enemy, and +hearing from the highest quarters a confirmation of what they wanted +to believe, the exhausted, wavering men felt comforted and inspirited. + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +Prince Andrew's regiment was among the reserves which till after one +o'clock were stationed inactive behind Semenovsk, under heavy +artillery fire. Toward two o'clock the regiment, having already lost +more than two hundred men, was moved forward into a trampled +oatfield in the gap between Semenovsk and the Knoll Battery, where +thousands of men perished that day and on which an intense, +concentrated fire from several hundred enemy guns was directed between +one and two o'clock. + +Without moving from that spot or firing a single shot the regiment +here lost another third of its men. From in front and especially +from the right, in the unlifting smoke the guns boomed, and out of the +mysterious domain of smoke that overlay the whole space in front, +quick hissing cannon balls and slow whistling shells flew unceasingly. +At times, as if to allow them a respite, a quarter of an hour passed +during which the cannon balls and shells all flew overhead, but +sometimes several men were torn from the regiment in a minute and +the slain were continually being dragged away and the wounded +carried off. + +With each fresh blow less and less chance of life remained for those +not yet killed. The regiment stood in columns of battalion, three +hundred paces apart, but nevertheless the men were always in one and +the same mood. All alike were taciturn and morose. Talk was rarely +heard in the ranks, and it ceased altogether every time the thud of +a successful shot and the cry of "stretchers!" was heard. Most of +the time, by their officers' order, the men sat on the ground. One, +having taken off his shako, carefully loosened the gathers of its +lining and drew them tight again; another, rubbing some dry clay +between his palms, polished his bayonet; another fingered the strap +and pulled the buckle of his bandolier, while another smoothed and +refolded his leg bands and put his boots on again. Some built little +houses of the tufts in the plowed ground, or plaited baskets from +the straw in the cornfield. All seemed fully absorbed in these +pursuits. When men were killed or wounded, when rows of stretchers +went past, when some troops retreated, and when great masses of the +enemy came into view through the smoke, no one paid any attention to +these things. But when our artillery or cavalry advanced or some of +our infantry were seen to move forward, words of approval were heard +on all sides. But the liveliest attention was attracted by occurrences +quite apart from, and unconnected with, the battle. It was as if the +minds of these morally exhausted men found relief in everyday, +commonplace occurrences. A battery of artillery was passing in front +of the regiment. The horse of an ammunition cart put its leg over a +trace. "Hey, look at the trace horse!... Get her leg out! She'll +fall.... Ah, they don't see it!" came identical shouts from the +ranks all along the regiment. Another time, general attention was +attracted by a small brown dog, coming heaven knows whence, which +trotted in a preoccupied manner in front of the ranks with tail +stiffly erect till suddenly a shell fell close by, when it yelped, +tucked its tail between its legs, and darted aside. Yells and +shrieks of laughter rose from the whole regiment. But such +distractions lasted only a moment, and for eight hours the men had +been inactive, without food, in constant fear of death, and their pale +and gloomy faces grew ever paler and gloomier. + +Prince Andrew, pale and gloomy like everyone in the regiment, +paced up and down from the border of one patch to another, at the edge +of the meadow beside an oatfield, with head bowed and arms behind +his back. There was nothing for him to do and no orders to be given. +Everything went on of itself. The killed were dragged from the +front, the wounded carried away, and the ranks closed up. If any +soldiers ran to the rear they returned immediately and hastily. At +first Prince Andrew, considering it his duty to rouse the courage of +the men and to set them an example, walked about among the ranks, +but he soon became convinced that this was unnecessary and that +there was nothing he could teach them. All the powers of his soul, +as of every soldier there, were unconsciously bent on avoiding the +contemplation of the horrors of their situation. He walked along the +meadow, dragging his feet, rustling the grass, and gazing at the +dust that covered his boots; now he took big strides trying to keep to +the footprints left on the meadow by the mowers, then he counted his +steps, calculating how often he must walk from one strip to another to +walk a mile, then he stripped the flowers from the wormwood that +grew along a boundary rut, rubbed them in his palms, and smelled their +pungent, sweetly bitter scent. Nothing remained of the previous +day's thoughts. He thought of nothing. He listened with weary ears +to the ever-recurring sounds, distinguishing the whistle of flying +projectiles from the booming of the reports, glanced at the tiresomely +familiar faces of the men of the first battalion, and waited. "Here it +comes... this one is coming our way again!" he thought, listening to +an approaching whistle in the hidden region of smoke. "One, another! +Again! It has hit...." He stopped and looked at the ranks. "No, it has +gone over. But this one has hit!" And again he started trying to reach +the boundary strip in sixteen paces. A whizz and a thud! Five paces +from him, a cannon ball tore up the dry earth and disappeared. A chill +ran down his back. Again he glanced at the ranks. Probably many had +been hit- a large crowd had gathered near the second battalion. + +"Adjutant!" he shouted. "Order them not to crowd together." + +The adjutant, having obeyed this instruction, approached Prince +Andrew. From the other side a battalion commander rode up. + +"Look out!" came a frightened cry from a soldier and, like a bird +whirring in rapid flight and alighting on the ground, a shell +dropped with little noise within two steps of Prince Andrew and +close to the battalion commander's horse. The horse first, +regardless of whether it was right or wrong to show fear, snorted, +reared almost throwing the major, and galloped aside. The horse's +terror infected the men. + +"Lie down!" cried the adjutant, throwing himself flat on the ground. + +Prince Andrew hesitated. The smoking shell spun like a top between +him and the prostrate adjutant, near a wormwood plant between the +field and the meadow. + +"Can this be death?" thought Prince Andrew, looking with a quite +new, envious glance at the grass, the wormwood, and the streamlet of +smoke that curled up from the rotating black ball. "I cannot, I do not +wish to die. I love life- I love this grass, this earth, this air...." +He thought this, and at the same time remembered that people were +looking at him. + +"It's shameful, sir!" he said to the adjutant. "What..." + +He did not finish speaking. At one and the same moment came the +sound of an explosion, a whistle of splinters as from a breaking +window frame, a suffocating smell of powder, and Prince Andrew started +to one side, raising his arm, and fell on his chest. Several +officers ran up to him. From the right side of his abdomen, blood +was welling out making a large stain on the grass. + +The militiamen with stretchers who were called up stood behind the +officers. Prince Andrew lay on his chest with his face in the grass, +breathing heavily and noisily. + +"What are you waiting for? Come along!" + +The peasants went up and took him by his shoulders and legs, but +he moaned piteously and, exchanging looks, they set him down again. + +"Pick him up, lift him, it's all the same!" cried someone. + +They again took him by the shoulders and laid him on the stretcher. + +"Ah, God! My God! What is it? The stomach? That means death! My +God!"- voices among the officers were heard saying. + +"It flew a hair's breadth past my ear," said the adjutant. + +The peasants, adjusting the stretcher to their shoulders, started +hurriedly along the path they had trodden down, to the dressing +station. + +"Keep in step! Ah... those peasants!" shouted an officer, seizing by +their shoulders and checking the peasants, who were walking unevenly +and jolting the stretcher. + +"Get into step, Fedor... I say, Fedor!" said the foremost peasant. + +"Now that's right!" said the one behind joyfully, when he had got +into step. + +"Your excellency! Eh, Prince!" said the trembling voice of Timokhin, +who had run up and was looking down on the stretcher. + +Prince Andrew opened his eyes and looked up at the speaker from +the stretcher into which his head had sunk deep and again his +eyelids drooped. + +The militiamen carried Prince Andrew to dressing station by the +wood, where wagons were stationed. The dressing station consisted of +three tents with flaps turned back, pitched at the edge of a birch +wood. In the wood, wagons and horses were standing. The horses were +eating oats from their movable troughs and sparrows flew down and +pecked the grains that fell. Some crows, scenting blood, flew among +the birch trees cawing impatiently. Around the tents, over more than +five acres, bloodstained men in various garbs stood, sat, or lay. +Around the wounded stood crowds of soldier stretcher-bearers with +dismal and attentive faces, whom the officers keeping order tried in +vain to drive from the spot. Disregarding the officers' orders, the +soldiers stood leaning against their stretchers and gazing intently, +as if trying to comprehend the difficult problem of what was taking +place before them. From the tents came now loud angry cries and now +plaintive groans. Occasionally dressers ran out to fetch water, or +to point out those who were to be brought in next. The wounded men +awaiting their turn outside the tents groaned, sighed, wept, screamed, +swore, or asked for vodka. Some were delirious. Prince Andrew's +bearers, stepping over the wounded who had not yet been bandaged, took +him, as a regimental commander, close up to one of the tents and there +stopped, awaiting instructions. Prince Andrew opened his eyes and +for a long time could not make out what was going on around him. He +remembered the meadow, the wormwood, the field, the whirling black +ball, and his sudden rush of passionate love of life. Two steps from +him, leaning against a branch and talking loudly and attracting +general attention, stood a tall, handsome, black-haired +noncommissioned officer with a bandaged head. He had been wounded in +the head and leg by bullets. Around him, eagerly listening to his +talk, a crowd of wounded and stretcher-bearers was gathered. + +"We kicked him out from there so that he chucked everything, we +grabbed the King himself!" cried he, looking around him with eyes that +glittered with fever. "If only reserves had come up just then, lads, +there wouldn't have been nothing left of him! I tell you surely..." + +Like all the others near the speaker, Prince Andrew looked at him +with shining eyes and experienced a sense of comfort. "But isn't it +all the same now?" thought he. "And what will be there, and what has +there been here? Why was I so reluctant to part with life? There was +something in this life I did not and do not understand." + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +One of the doctors came out of the tent in a bloodstained apron, +holding a cigar between the thumb and little finger of one of his +small bloodstained hands, so as not to smear it. He raised his head +and looked about him, but above the level of the wounded men. He +evidently wanted a little respite. After turning his head from right +to left for some time, he sighed and looked down. + +"All right, immediately," he replied to a dresser who pointed Prince +Andrew out to him, and he told them to carry him into the tent. + +Murmurs arose among the wounded who were waiting. + +"It seems that even in the next world only the gentry are to have +a chance!" remarked one. + +Prince Andrew was carried in and laid on a table that had only +just been cleared and which a dresser was washing down. Prince +Andrew could not make out distinctly what was in that tent. The +pitiful groans from all sides and the torturing pain in his thigh, +stomach, and back distracted him. All he saw about him merged into a +general impression of naked, bleeding human bodies that seemed to fill +the whole of the low tent, as a few weeks previously, on that hot +August day, such bodies had filled the dirty pond beside the +Smolensk road. Yes, it was the same flesh, the same chair a canon, the +sight of which had even then filled him with horror, as by a +presentiment. + +There were three operating tables in the tent. Two were occupied, +and on the third they placed Prince Andrew. For a little while he +was left alone and involuntarily witnessed what was taking place on +the other two tables. On the nearest one sat a Tartar, probably a +Cossack, judging by the uniform thrown down beside him. Four +soldiers were holding him, and a spectacled doctor was cutting into +his muscular brown back. + +"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" grunted the Tartar, and suddenly lifting up his +swarthy snub-nosed face with its high cheekbones, and baring his white +teeth, he began to wriggle and twitch his body and utter piercing, +ringing, and prolonged yells. On the other table, round which many +people were crowding, a tall well-fed man lay on his back with his +head thrown back. His curly hair, its color, and the shape of his head +seemed strangely familiar to Prince Andrew. Several dressers were +pressing on his chest to hold him down. One large, white, plump leg +twitched rapidly all the time with a feverish tremor. The man was +sobbing and choking convulsively. Two doctors- one of whom was pale +and trembling- were silently doing something to this man's other, gory +leg. When he had finished with the Tartar, whom they covered with an +overcoat, the spectacled doctor came up to Prince Andrew, wiping his +hands. + +He glanced at Prince Andrew's face and quickly turned away. + +"Undress him! What are you waiting for?" he cried angrily to the +dressers. + +His very first, remotest recollections of childhood came back to +Prince Andrew's mind when the dresser with sleeves rolled up began +hastily to undo the buttons of his clothes and undressed him. The +doctor bent down over the wound, felt it, and sighed deeply. Then he +made a sign to someone, and the torturing pain in his abdomen caused +Prince Andrew to lose consciousness. When he came to himself the +splintered portions of his thighbone had been extracted, the torn +flesh cut away, and the wound bandaged. Water was being sprinkled on +his face. As soon as Prince Andrew opened his eyes, the doctor bent +over, kissed him silently on the lips, and hurried away. + +After the sufferings he had been enduring, Prince Andrew enjoyed a +blissful feeling such as he had not experienced for a long time. All +the best and happiest moments of his life- especially his earliest +childhood, when he used to be undressed and put to bed, and when +leaning over him his nurse sang him to sleep and he, burying his +head in the pillow, felt happy in the mere consciousness of life- +returned to his memory, not merely as something past but as +something present. + +The doctors were busily engaged with the wounded man the shape of +whose head seemed familiar to Prince Andrew: they were lifting him +up and trying to quiet him. + +"Show it to me.... Oh, ooh... Oh! Oh, ooh!" his frightened moans +could be heard, subdued by suffering and broken by sobs. + +Hearing those moans Prince Andrew wanted Andrew wanted to weep. +Whether because he was dying without glory, or because he was sorry to +part with life, or because of those memories of a childhood that could +not return, or because he was suffering and others were suffering +and that man near him was groaning so piteously- he felt like +weeping childlike, kindly, and almost happy tears. + +The wounded man was shown his amputated leg stained with clotted +blood and with the boot still on. + +"Oh! Oh, ooh!" he sobbed, like a woman. + +The doctor who had been standing beside him, preventing Prince +Andrew from seeing his face, moved away. + +"My God! What is this? Why is he here?" said Prince Andrew to +himself. + +In the miserable, sobbing, enfeebled man whose leg had just been +amputated, he recognized Anatole Kuragin. Men were supporting him in +their arms and offering him a glass of water, but his trembling, +swollen lips could not grasp its rim. Anatole was sobbing painfully. +"Yes, it is he! Yes, that man is somehow closely and painfully +connected with me," thought Prince Andrew, not yet clearly grasping +what he saw before him. "What is the connection of that man with my +childhood and life?" he asked himself without finding an answer. And +suddenly a new unexpected memory from that realm of pure and loving +childhood presented itself to him. He remembered Natasha as he had +seen her for the first time at the ball in 1810, with her slender neck +and arms and with a frightened happy face ready for rapture, and +love and tenderness for her, stronger and more vivid than ever, +awoke in his soul. He now remembered the connection that existed +between himself and this man who was dimly gazing at him through tears +that filled his swollen eyes. He remembered everything, and ecstatic +pity and love for that man overflowed his happy heart. + +Prince Andrew could no longer restrain himself and wept tender +loving tears for his fellow men, for himself, and for his own and +their errors. + +"Compassion, love of our brothers, for those who love us and for +those who hate us, love of our enemies; yes, that love which God +preached on earth and which Princess Mary taught me and I did not +understand- that is what made me sorry to part with life, that is what +remained for me had I lived. But now it is too late. I know it!" + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +The terrible spectacle of the battlefield covered with dead and +wounded, together with the heaviness of his head and the news that +some twenty generals he knew personally had been killed or wounded, +and the consciousness of the impotence of his once mighty arm, +produced an unexpected impression on Napoleon who usually liked to +look at the killed and wounded, thereby, he considered, testing his +strength of mind. This day the horrible appearance of the +battlefield overcame that strength of mind which he thought +constituted his merit and his greatness. He rode hurriedly from the +battlefield and returned to the Shevardino knoll, where he sat on +his campstool, his sallow face swollen and heavy, his eyes dim, his +nose red, and his voice hoarse, involuntarily listening, with downcast +eyes, to the sounds of firing. With painful dejection he awaited the +end of this action, in which he regarded himself as a participant +and which he was unable to arrest. A personal, human feeling for a +brief moment got the better of the artificial phantasm of life he +had served so long. He felt in his own person the sufferings and death +he had witnessed on the battlefield. The heaviness of his head and +chest reminded him of the possibility of suffering and death for +himself. At that moment he did not desire Moscow, or victory, or glory +(what need had he for any more glory?). The one thing he wished for +was rest, tranquillity, and freedom. But when he had been on the +Semenovsk heights the artillery commander had proposed to him to bring +several batteries of artillery up to those heights to strengthen the +fire on the Russian troops crowded in front of Knyazkovo. Napoleon had +assented and had given orders that news should be brought to him of +the effect those batteries produced. + +An adjutant came now to inform him that the fire of two hundred guns +had been concentrated on the Russians, as he had ordered, but that +they still held their ground. + +"Our fire is mowing them down by rows, but still they hold on," said +the adjutant. + +"They want more!..." said Napoleon in a hoarse voice. + +"Sire?" asked the adjutant who had not heard the remark. + +"They want more!" croaked Napoleon frowning. "Let them have it!" + +Even before he gave that order the thing he did not desire, and +for which he gave the order only because he thought it was expected of +him, was being done. And he fell back into that artificial realm of +imaginary greatness, and again- as a horse walking a treadmill +thinks it is doing something for itself- he submissively fulfilled the +cruel, sad, gloomy, and inhuman role predestined for him. + +And not for that day and hour alone were the mind and conscience +darkened of this man on whom the responsibility for what was happening +lay more than on all the others who took part in it. Never to the +end of his life could he understand goodness, beauty, or truth, or the +significance of his actions which were too contrary to goodness and +truth, too remote from everything human, for him ever to be able to +grasp their meaning. He could not disavow his actions, belauded as +they were by half the world, and so he had to repudiate truth, +goodness, and all humanity. + +Not only on that day, as he rode over the battlefield strewn with +men killed and maimed (by his will as he believed), did he reckon as +he looked at them how many Russians there were for each Frenchman and, +deceiving himself, find reason for rejoicing in the calculation that +there were five Russians for every Frenchman. Not on that day alone +did he write in a letter to Paris that "the battle field was +superb," because fifty thousand corpses lay there, but even on the +island of St. Helena in the peaceful solitude where he said he +intended to devote his leisure to an account of the great deeds he had +done, he wrote: + +The Russian war should have been the most popular war of modern +times: it was a war of good sense, for real interests, for the +tranquillity and security of all; it was purely pacific and +conservative. + +It was a war for a great cause, the end of uncertainties and the +beginning of security. A new horizon and new labors were opening +out, full of well-being and prosperity for all. The European system +was already founded; all that remained was to organize it. + +Satisfied on these great points and with tranquility everywhere, I +too should have had my Congress and my Holy Alliance. Those ideas were +stolen from me. In that reunion of great sovereigns we should have +discussed our interests like one family, and have rendered account +to the peoples as clerk to master. + +Europe would in this way soon have been, in fact, but one people, +and anyone who traveled anywhere would have found himself always in +the common fatherland. I should have demanded the freedom of all +navigable rivers for everybody, that the seas should be common to all, +and that the great standing armies should be reduced henceforth to +mere guards for the sovereigns. + +On returning to France, to the bosom of the great, strong, +magnificent, peaceful, and glorious fatherland, I should have +proclaimed her frontiers immutable; all future wars purely +defensive, all aggrandizement antinational. I should have associated +my son in the Empire; my dictatorship would have been finished, and +his constitutional reign would have begun. + +Paris would have been the capital of the world, and the French the +envy of the nations! + +My leisure then, and my old age, would have been devoted, in company +with the Empress and during the royal apprenticeship of my son, to +leisurely visiting, with our own horses and like a true country +couple, every corner of the Empire, receiving complaints, redressing +wrongs, and scattering public buildings and benefactions on all +sides and everywhere. + +Napoleon, predestined by Providence for the gloomy role of +executioner of the peoples, assured himself that the aim of his +actions had been the peoples' welfare and that he could control the +fate of millions and by the employment of power confer benefactions. + +"Of four hundred thousand who crossed the Vistula," he wrote further +of the Russian war, "half were Austrians, Prussians, Saxons, Poles, +Bavarians, Wurttembergers, Mecklenburgers, Spaniards, Italians, and +Neapolitans. The Imperial army, strictly speaking, was one third +composed of Dutch, Belgians, men from the borders of the Rhine, +Piedmontese, Swiss, Genevese, Tuscans, Romans, inhabitants of the +Thirty-second Military Division, of Bremen, of Hamburg, and so on: +it included scarcely a hundred and forty thousand who spoke French. +The Russian expedition actually cost France less than fifty thousand +men; the Russian army in its retreat from Vilna to Moscow lost in +the various battles four times more men than the French army; the +burning of Moscow cost the lives of a hundred thousand Russians who +died of cold and want in the woods; finally, in its march from +Moscow to the Oder the Russian army also suffered from the severity of +the season; so that by the the time it reached Vilna it numbered +only fifty thousand, and at Kalisch less than eighteen thousand." + +He imagined that the war with Russia came about by his will, and the +horrors that occurred did not stagger his soul. He boldly took the +whole responsibility for what happened, and his darkened mind found +justification in the belief that among the hundreds of thousands who +perished there were fewer Frenchmen than Hessians and Bavarians. + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +Several tens of thousands of the slain lay in diverse postures and +various uniforms on the fields and meadows belonging to the Davydov +family and to the crown serfs- those fields and meadows where for +hundreds of years the peasants of Borodino, Gorki, Shevardino, and +Semenovsk had reaped their harvests and pastured their cattle. At +the dressing stations the grass and earth were soaked with blood for a +space of some three acres around. Crowds of men of various arms, +wounded and unwounded, with frightened faces, dragged themselves +back to Mozhaysk from the one army and back to Valuevo from the other. +Other crowds, exhausted and hungry, went forward led by their +officers. Others held their ground and continued to fire. + +Over the whole field, previously so gaily beautiful with the glitter +of bayonets and cloudlets of smoke in the morning sun, there now +spread a mist of damp and smoke and a strange acid smell of +saltpeter and blood. Clouds gathered and drops of rain began to fall +on the dead and wounded, on the frightened, exhausted, and +hesitating men, as if to say: "Enough, men! Enough! Cease... bethink +yourselves! What are you doing?" + +To the men of both sides alike, worn out by want of food and rest, +it began equally to appear doubtful whether they should continue to +slaughter one another; all the faces expressed hesitation, and the +question arose in every soul: "For what, for whom, must I kill and +be killed?... You may go and kill whom you please, but I don't want to +do so anymore!" By evening this thought had ripened in every soul. +At any moment these men might have been seized with horror at what +they were doing and might have thrown up everything and run away +anywhere. + +But though toward the end of the battle the men felt all the +horror of what they were doing, though they would have been glad to +leave off, some incomprehensible, mysterious power continued to +control them, and they still brought up the charges, loaded, aimed, +and applied the match, though only one artilleryman survived out of +every three, and though they stumbled and panted with fatigue, +perspiring and stained with blood and powder. The cannon balls flew +just as swiftly and cruelly from both sides, crushing human bodies, +and that terrible work which was not done by the will of a man but +at the will of Him who governs men and worlds continued. + +Anyone looking at the disorganized rear of the Russian army would +have said that, if only the French made one more slight effort, it +would disappear; and anyone looking at the rear of the French army +would have said that the Russians need only make one more slight +effort and the French would be destroyed. But neither the French nor +the Russians made that effort, and the flame of battle burned slowly +out. + +The Russians did not make that effort because they were not +attacking the French. At the beginning of the battle they stood +blocking the way to Moscow and they still did so at the end of the +battle as at the beginning. But even had the aim of the Russians +been to drive the French from their positions, they could not have +made this last effort, for all the Russian troops had been broken +up, there was no part of the Russian army that had not suffered in the +battle, and though still holding their positions they had lost ONE +HALF of their army. + +The French, with the memory of all their former victories during +fifteen years, with the assurance of Napoleon's invincibility, with +the consciousness that they had captured part of the battlefield and +had lost only a quarter of their men and still had their Guards +intact, twenty thousand strong, might easily have made that effort. +The French had attacked the Russian army in order to drive it from its +position ought to have made that effort, for as long as the Russians +continued to block the road to Moscow as before, the aim of the French +had not been attained and all their efforts and losses were in vain. +But the French did not make that effort. Some historians say that +Napoleon need only have used his Old Guards, who were intact, and +the battle would have been won. To speak of what would have happened +had Napoleon sent his Guards is like talking of what would happen if +autumn became spring. It could not be. Napoleon did not give his +Guards, not because he did not want to, but because it could not be +done. All the generals, officers. and soldiers of the French army knew +it could not be done, because the flagging spirit of the troops +would not permitit. + +It was not Napoleon alone who had experienced that nightmare feeling +of the mighty arm being stricken powerless, but all the generals and +soldiers of his army whether they had taken part in the battle or not, +after all their experience of previous battles- when after one tenth +of such efforts the enemy had fled- experienced a similar feeling of +terror before an enemy who, after losing HALF his men, stood as +threateningly at the end as at the beginning of the battle. The +moral force of the attacking French army was exhausted. Not that +sort of victory which is defined by the capture of pieces of +material fastened to sticks, called standards, and of the ground on +which the troops had stood and were standing, but a moral victory that +convinces the enemy of the moral superiority of his opponent and of +his own impotence was gained by the Russians at Borodino. The French +invaders, like an infuriated animal that has in its onslaught received +a mortal wound, felt that they were perishing, but could not stop, any +more than the Russian army, weaker by one half, could help swerving. +By impetus gained, the French army was still able to roll forward to +Moscow, but there, without further effort on the part of the Russians, +it had to perish, bleeding from the mortal wound it had received at +Borodino. The direct consequence of the battle of Borodino was +Napoleon's senseless flight from Moscow, his retreat along the old +Smolensk road, the destruction of the invading army of five hundred +thousand men, and the downfall of Napoleonic France, on which at +Borodino for the first time the hand of an opponent of stronger spirit +had been laid. + +BOOK ELEVEN: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +Absolute continuity of motion is not comprehensible to the human +mind. Laws of motion of any kind become comprehensible to man only +when he examines arbitrarily selected elements of that motion; but +at the same time, a large proportion of human error comes from the +arbitrary division of continuous motion into discontinuous elements. +There is a well known, so-called sophism of the ancients consisting in +this, that Achilles could never catch up with a tortoise he was +following, in spite of the fact that he traveled ten times as fast +as the tortoise. By the time Achilles has covered the distance that +separated him from the tortoise, the tortoise has covered one tenth of +that distance ahead of him: when Achilles has covered that tenth, +the tortoise has covered another one hundredth, and so on forever. +This problem seemed to the ancients insoluble. The absurd answer (that +Achilles could never overtake the tortoise) resulted from this: that +motion was arbitrarily divided into discontinuous elements, whereas +the motion both of Achilles and of the tortoise was continuous. + +By adopting smaller and smaller elements of motion we only +approach a solution of the problem, but never reach it. Only when we +have admitted the conception of the infinitely small, and the +resulting geometrical progression with a common ratio of one tenth, +and have found the sum of this progression to infinity, do we reach +a solution of the problem. + +A modern branch of mathematics having achieved the art of dealing +with the infinitely small can now yield solutions in other more +complex problems of motion which used to appear insoluble. + +This modern branch of mathematics, unknown to the ancients, when +dealing with problems of motion admits the conception of the +infinitely small, and so conforms to the chief condition of motion +(absolute continuity) and thereby corrects the inevitable error +which the human mind cannot avoid when it deals with separate elements +of motion instead of examining continuous motion. + +In seeking the laws of historical movement just the same thing +happens. The movement of humanity, arising as it does from innumerable +arbitrary human wills, is continuous. + +To understand the laws of this continuous movement is the aim of +history. But to arrive at these laws, resulting from the sum of all +those human wills, man's mind postulates arbitrary and disconnected +units. The first method of history is to take an arbitrarily +selected series of continuous events and examine it apart from others, +though there is and can be no beginning to any event, for one event +always flows uninterruptedly from another. + +The second method is to consider the actions of some one man- a king +or a commander- as equivalent to the sum of many individual wills; +whereas the sum of individual wills is never expressed by the activity +of a single historic personage. + +Historical science in its endeavor to draw nearer to truth +continually takes smaller and smaller units for examination. But +however small the units it takes, we feel that to take any unit +disconnected from others, or to assume a beginning of any +phenomenon, or to say that the will of many men is expressed by the +actions of any one historic personage, is in itself false. + +It needs no critical exertion to reduce utterly to dust any +deductions drawn from history. It is merely necessary to select some +larger or smaller unit as the subject of observation- as criticism has +every right to do, seeing that whatever unit history observes must +always be arbitrarily selected. + +Only by taking infinitesimally small units for observation (the +differential of history, that is, the individual tendencies of men) +and attaining to the art of integrating them (that is, finding the sum +of these infinitesimals) can we hope to arrive at the laws of history. + +The first fifteen years of the nineteenth century in Europe +present an extraordinary movement of millions of people. Men leave +their customary pursuits, hasten from one side of Europe to the other, +plunder and slaughter one another, triumph and are plunged in despair, +and for some years the whole course of life is altered and presents an +intensive movement which first increases and then slackens. What was +the cause of this movement, by what laws was it governed? asks the +mind of man. + +The historians, replying to this question, lay before us the sayings +and doings of a few dozen men in a building in the city of Paris, +calling these sayings and doings "the Revolution"; then they give a +detailed biography of Napoleon and of certain people favorable or +hostile to him; tell of the influence some of these people had on +others, and say: that is why this movement took place and those are +its laws. + +But the mind of man not only refuses to believe this explanation, +but plainly says that this method of explanation is fallacious, +because in it a weaker phenomenon is taken as the cause of a stronger. +The sum of human wills produced the Revolution and Napoleon, and +only the sum of those wills first tolerated and then destroyed them. + +"But every time there have been conquests there have been +conquerors; every time there has been a revolution in any state +there have been great men," says history. And, indeed, human reason +replies: every time conquerors appear there have been wars, but this +does not prove that the conquerors caused the wars and that it is +possible to find the laws of a war in the personal activity of a +single man. Whenever I look at my watch and its hands point to ten, +I hear the bells of the neighboring church; but because the bells +begin to ring when the hands of the clock reach ten, I have no right +to assume that the movement of the bells is caused by the position +of the hands of the watch. + +Whenever I see the movement of a locomotive I hear the whistle and +see the valves opening and wheels turning; but I have no right to +conclude that the whistling and the turning of wheels are the cause of +the movement of the engine. + +The peasants say that a cold wind blows in late spring because the +oaks are budding, and really every spring cold winds do blow when +the oak is budding. But though I do not know what causes the cold +winds to blow when the oak buds unfold, I cannot agree with the +peasants that the unfolding of the oak buds is the cause of the cold +wind, for the force of the wind is beyond the influence of the buds. I +see only a coincidence of occurrences such as happens with all the +phenomena of life, and I see that however much and however carefully I +observe the hands of the watch, and the valves and wheels of the +engine, and the oak, I shall not discover the cause of the bells +ringing, the engine moving, or of the winds of spring. To that I +must entirely change my point of view and study the laws of the +movement of steam, of the bells, and of the wind. History must do +the same. And attempts in this direction have already been made. + +To study the laws of history we must completely change the subject +of our observation, must leave aside kings, ministers, and generals, +and the common, infinitesimally small elements by which the masses are +moved. No one can say in how far it is possible for man to advance +in this way toward an understanding of the laws of history; but it +is evident that only along that path does the possibility of +discovering the laws of history lie, and that as yet not a millionth +part as much mental effort has been applied in this direction by +historians as has been devoted to describing the actions of various +kings, commanders, and ministers and propounding the historians' own +reflections concerning these actions. + +CHAPTER II + +The forces of a dozen European nations burst into Russia. The +Russian army and people avoided a collision till Smolensk was reached, +and again from Smolensk to Borodino. The French army pushed on to +Moscow, its goal, its impetus ever increasing as it neared its aim, +just as the velocity of a falling body increases as it approaches +the earth. Behind it were seven hundred miles of hunger-stricken, +hostile country; ahead were a few dozen miles separating it from its +goal. Every soldier in Napoleon's army felt this and the invasion +moved on by its own momentum. + +The more the Russian army retreated the more fiercely a spirit of +hatred of the enemy flared up, and while it retreated the army +increased and consolidated. At Borodino a collision took place. +Neither army was broken up, but the Russian army retreated immediately +after the collision as inevitably as a ball recoils after colliding +with another having a greater momentum, and with equal inevitability +the ball of invasion that had advanced with such momentum rolled on +for some distance, though the collision had deprived it of all its +force. + +The Russians retreated eighty miles- to beyond Moscow- and the +French reached Moscow and there came to a standstill. For five weeks +after that there was not a single battle. The French did not move. +As a bleeding, mortally wounded animal licks its wounds, they remained +inert in Moscow for five weeks, and then suddenly, with no fresh +reason, fled back: they made a dash for the Kaluga road, and (after +a victory- for at Malo-Yaroslavets the field of conflict again +remained theirs) without undertaking a single serious battle, they +fled still more rapidly back to Smolensk, beyond Smolensk, beyond +the Berezina, beyond Vilna, and farther still. + +On the evening of the twenty-sixth of August, Kutuzov and the +whole Russian army were convinced that the battle of Borodino was a +victory. Kutuzov reported so to the Emperor. He gave orders to prepare +for a fresh conflict to finish the enemy and did this not to deceive +anyone, but because he knew that the enemy was beaten, as everyone who +had taken part in the battle knew it. + +But all that evening and next day reports came in one after +another of unheard-of losses, of the loss of half the army, and a +fresh battle proved physically impossible. + +It was impossible to give battle before information had been +collected, the wounded gathered in, the supplies of ammunition +replenished, the slain reckoned up, new officers appointed to +replace those who had been killed, and before the men had had food and +sleep. And meanwhile, the very next morning after the battle, the +French army advanced of itself upon the Russians, carried forward by +the force of its own momentum now seemingly increased in inverse +proportion to the square of the distance from its aim. Kutuzov's +wish was to attack next day, and the whole army desired to do so. +But to make an attack the wish to do so is not sufficient, there +must also be a possibility of doing it, and that possibility did not +exist. It was impossible not to retreat a day's march, and then in the +same way it was impossible not to retreat another and a third day's +march, and at last, on the first of September when the army drew +near Moscow- despite the strength of the feeling that had arisen in +all ranks- the force of circumstances compelled it to retire beyond +Moscow. And the troops retired one more, last, day's march, and +abandoned Moscow to the enemy. + +For people accustomed to think that plans of campaign and battles +are made by generals- as any one of us sitting over a map in his study +may imagine how he would have arranged things in this or that +battle- the questions present themselves: Why did Kutuzov during the +retreat not do this or that? Why did he not take up a position +before reaching Fili? Why did he not retire at once by the Kaluga +road, abandoning Moscow? and so on. People accustomed to think in that +way forget, or do not know, the inevitable conditions which always +limit the activities of any commander in chief. The activity of a +commander in chief does not all resemble the activity we imagine to +ourselves when we sit at case in our studies examining some campaign +on the map, with a certain number of troops on this and that side in a +certain known locality, and begin our plans from some given moment. +A commander in chief is never dealing with the beginning of any event- +the position from which we always contemplate it. The commander in +chief is always in the midst of a series of shifting events and so +he never can at any moment consider the whole import of an event +that is occurring. Moment by moment the event is imperceptibly shaping +itself, and at every moment of this continuous, uninterrupted +shaping of events the commander in chief is in the midst of a most +complex play of intrigues, worries, contingencies, authorities, +projects, counsels, threats, and deceptions and is continually obliged +to reply to innumerable questions addressed to him, which constantly +conflict with one another. + +Learned military authorities quite seriously tell us that Kutuzov +should have moved his army to the Kaluga road long before reaching +Fili, and that somebody actually submitted such a proposal to him. But +a commander in chief, especially at a difficult moment, has always +before him not one proposal but dozens simultaneously. And all these +proposals, based on strategics and tactics, contradict each other. + +A commander in chief's business, it would seem, is simply to +choose one of these projects. But even that he cannot do. Events and +time do not wait. For instance, on the twenty-eighth it is suggested +to him to cross to the Kaluga road, but just then an adjutant +gallops up from Miloradovich asking whether he is to engage the French +or retire. An order must be given him at once, that instant. And the +order to retreat carries us past the turn to the Kaluga road. And +after the adjutant comes the commissary general asking where the +stores are to be taken, and the chief of the hospitals asks where +the wounded are to go, and a courier from Petersburg brings a letter +from the sovereign which does not admit of the possibility of +abandoning Moscow, and the commander in chief's rival, the man who +is undermining him (and there are always not merely one but several +such), presents a new project diametrically opposed to that of turning +to the Kaluga road, and the commander in chief himself needs sleep and +refreshment to maintain his energy and a respectable general who has +been overlooked in the distribution of rewards comes to complain, +and the inhabitants of the district pray to be defended, and an +officer sent to inspect the locality comes in and gives a report quite +contrary to what was said by the officer previously sent; and a spy, a +prisoner, and a general who has been on reconnaissance, all describe +the position of the enemy's army differently. People accustomed to +misunderstand or to forget these inevitable conditions of a +commander in chief's actions describe to us, for instance, the +position of the army at Fili and assume that the commander in chief +could, on the first of September, quite freely decide whether to +abandon Moscow or defend it; whereas, with the Russian army less +than four miles from Moscow, no such question existed. When had that +question been settled? At Drissa and at Smolensk and most palpably +of all on the twenty-fourth of August at Shevardino and on the +twenty-sixth at Borodino, and each day and hour and minute of the +retreat from Borodino to Fili. + +CHAPTER III + +When Ermolov, having been sent by Kutuzov to inspect the position, +told the field marshal that it was impossible to fight there before +Moscow and that they must retreat, Kutuzov looked at him in silence. + +"Give me your hand," said he and, turning it over so as to feel +the pulse, added: "You are not well, my dear fellow. Think what you +are saying!" + +Kutuzov could not yet admit the possibility of retreating beyond +Moscow without a battle. + +On the Poklonny Hill, four miles from the Dorogomilov gate of +Moscow, Kutuzov got out of his carriage and sat down on a bench by the +roadside. A great crowd of generals gathered round him, and Count +Rostopchin, who had come out from Moscow, joined them. This +brilliant company separated into several groups who all discussed +the advantages and disadvantages of the position, the state of the +army, the plans suggested, the situation of Moscow, and military +questions generally. Though they had not been summoned for the +purpose, and though it was not so called, they all felt that this +was really a council of war. The conversations all dealt with public +questions. If anyone gave or asked for personal news, it was done in a +whisper and they immediately reverted to general matters. No jokes, or +laughter, or smiles even, were seen among all these men. They +evidently all made an effort to hold themselves at the height the +situation demanded. And all these groups, while talking among +themselves, tried to keep near the commander in chief (whose bench +formed the center of the gathering) and to speak so that he might +overhear them. The commander in chief listened to what was being +said and sometimes asked them to repeat their remarks, but did not +himself take part in the conversations or express any opinion. After +hearing what was being said by one or other of these groups he +generally turned away with an air of disappointment, as though they +were not speaking of anything he wished to hear. Some discussed the +position that had been chosen, criticizing not the position itself +so much as the mental capacity of those who had chosen it. Others +argued that a mistake had been made earlier and that a battle should +have been fought two days before. Others again spoke of the battle +of Salamanca, which was described by Crosart, a newly arrived +Frenchman in a Spanish uniform. (This Frenchman and one of the +German princes serving with the Russian army were discussing the siege +of Saragossa and considering the possibility of defending Moscow in +a similar manner.) Count Rostopchin was telling a fourth group that he +was prepared to die with the city train bands under the walls of the +capital, but that he still could not help regretting having been +left in ignorance of what was happening, and that had he known it +sooner things would have been different.... A fifth group, +displaying the profundity of their strategic perceptions, discussed +the direction the troops would now have to take. A sixth group was +talking absolute nonsense. Kutuzov's expression grew more and more +preoccupied and gloomy. From all this talk he saw only one thing: that +to defend Moscow was a physical impossibility in the full meaning of +those words, that is to say, so utterly impossible that if any +senseless commander were to give orders to fight, confusion would +result but the battle would still not take place. It would not take +place because the commanders not merely all recognized the position to +be impossible, but in their conversations were only discussing what +would happen after its inevitable abandonment. How could the +commanders lead their troops to a field of battle they considered it +impossible to hold? The lower-grade officers and even the soldiers +(who too reason) also considered the position impossible and therefore +could not go to fight, fully convinced as they were of defeat. If +Bennigsen insisted on the position being defended and others still +discussed it, the question was no longer important in itself but +only as a pretext for disputes and intrigue. This Kutuzov knew well. + +Bennigsen, who had chosen the position, warmly displayed his Russian +patriotism (Kutuzov could not listen to this without wincing) by +insisting that Moscow must be defended. His aim was as clear as +daylight to Kutuzov: if the defense failed, to throw the blame on +Kutuzov who had brought the army as far as the Sparrow Hills without +giving battle; if it succeeded, to claim the success as his own; or if +battle were not given, to clear himself of the crime of abandoning +Moscow. But this intrigue did not now occupy the old man's mind. One +terrible question absorbed him and to that question he heard no +reply from anyone. The question for him now was: "Have I really +allowed Napoleon to reach Moscow, and when did I do so? When was it +decided? Can it have been yesterday when I ordered Platov to +retreat, or was it the evening before, when I had a nap and told +Bennigsen to issue orders? Or was it earlier still?... When, when +was this terrible affair decided? Moscow must be abandoned. The army +must retreat and the order to do so must be given." To give that +terrible order seemed to him equivalent to resigning the command of +the army. And not only did he love power to which he was accustomed +(the honours awarded to Prince Prozorovski, under whom he had served +in Turkey, galled him), but he was convinced that he was destined to +save Russia and that that was why, against the Emperor's wish and by +the will of the people, he had been chosen commander in chief. He +was convinced that he alone could maintain command of the army in +these difficult circumstances, and that in all the world he alone +could encounter the invincible Napoleon without fear, and he was +horrified at the thought of the order he had to issue. But something +had to be decided, and these conversations around him which were +assuming too free a character must be stopped. + +He called the most important generals to him. + +"My head, be it good or bad, must depend on itself," said he, rising +from the bench, and he rode to Fili where his carriages were waiting. + +CHAPTER IV + +The Council of War began to assemble at two in the afternoon in +the better and roomier part of Andrew Savostyanov's hut. The men, +women, and children of the large peasant family crowded into the +back room across the passage. Only Malasha, Andrew's six-year-old +granddaughter whom his Serene Highness had petted and to whom he had +given a lump of sugar while drinking his tea, remained on the top of +the brick oven in the larger room. Malasha looked down from the oven +with shy delight at the faces, uniforms, and decorations of the +generals, who one after another came into the room and sat down on the +broad benches in the corner under the icons. "Granddad" himself, as +Malasha in her own mind called Kutuzov, sat apart in a dark corner +behind the oven. He sat, sunk deep in a folding armchair, and +continually cleared his throat and pulled at the collar of his coat +which, though it was unbuttoned, still seemed to pinch his neck. Those +who entered went up one by one to the field marshal; he pressed the +hands of some and nodded to others. His adjutant Kaysarov was about to +draw back the curtain of the window facing Kutuzov, but the latter +moved his hand angrily and Kaysarov understood that his Serene +Highness did not wish his face to be seen. + +Round the peasant's deal table, on which lay maps, plans, pencils, +and papers, so many people gathered that the orderlies brought in +another bench and put it beside the table. Ermolov, Kaysarov, and +Toll, who had just arrived, sat down on this bench. In the foremost +place, immediately under the icons, sat Barclay de Tolly, his high +forehead merging into his bald crown. He had a St. George's Cross +round his neck and looked pale and ill. He had been feverish for two +days and was now shivering and in pain. Beside him sat Uvarov, who +with rapid gesticulations was giving him some information, speaking in +low tones as they all did. Chubby little Dokhturov was listening +attentively with eyebrows raised and arms folded on his stomach. On +the other side sat Count Ostermann-Tolstoy, seemingly absorbed in +his own thoughts. His broad head with its bold features and glittering +eyes was resting on his hand. Raevski, twitching forward the black +hair on his temples as was his habit, glanced now at Kutuzov and now +at the door with a look of impatience. Konovnitsyn's firm, handsome, +and kindly face was lit up by a tender, sly smile. His glance met +Malasha's, and the expression of his eyes caused the little girl to +smile. + +They were all waiting for Bennigsen, who on the pretext of +inspecting the position was finishing his savory dinner. They waited +for him from four till six o'clock and did not begin their +deliberations all that time talked in low tones of other matters. + +Only when Bennigsen had entered the hut did Kutuzov leave his corner +and draw toward the table, but not near enough for the candles that +had been placed there to light up his face. + +Bennigsen opened the council with the question: "Are we to abandon +Russia's ancient and sacred capital without a struggle, or are we to +defend it?" A prolonged and general silence followed. There was a +frown on every face and only Kutuzov's angry grunts and occasional +cough broke the silence. All eyes were gazing at him. Malasha too +looked at "Granddad." She was nearest to him and saw how his face +puckered; he seemed about to cry, but this did not last long. + +"Russia's ancient and sacred capital!" he suddenly said, repeating +Bennigsen's words in an angry voice and thereby drawing attention to +the false note in them. "Allow me to tell you, your excellency, that +that question has no meaning for a Russian." (He lurched his heavy +body forward.) "Such a question cannot be put; it is senseless! The +question I have asked these gentlemen to meet to discuss is a military +one. The question is that of saving Russia. Is it better to give up +Moscow without a battle, or by accepting battle to risk losing the +army as well as Moscow? That is the question on which I want your +opinion," and he sank back in his chair. + +The discussion began. Bennigsen did not yet consider his game +lost. Admitting the view of Barclay and others that a defensive battle +at Fili was impossible, but imbued with Russian patriotism and the +love of Moscow, he proposed to move troops from the right to the +left flank during the night and attack the French right flank the +following day. Opinions were divided, and arguments were advanced +for and against that project. Ermolov, Dokhturov, and Raevski agreed +with Bennigsen. Whether feeling it necessary to make a sacrifice +before abandoning the capital or guided by other, personal +considerations, these generals seemed not to understand that this +council could not alter the inevitable course of events and that +Moscow was in effect already abandoned. The other generals, however, +understood it and, leaving aside the question of Moscow, of the +direction the army should take in its retreat. Malasha, who kept her +eyes fixed on what was going on before her, understood the meaning +of the council differently. It seemed to her that it was only a +personal struggle between "Granddad" and "Long-coat" as she termed +Bennigsen. She saw that they grew spiteful when they spoke to one +another, and in her heart she sided with "Granddad." In the midst of +the conversation she noticed "Granddad" give Bennigsen a quick, subtle +glance, and then to her joys he saw that "Granddad" said something +to "Long-coat" which settled him. Bennigsen suddenly reddened and +paced angrily up and down the room. What so affected him was Kutuzov's +calm and quiet comment on the advantage or disadvantage of Bennigsen's +proposal to move troops by night from the right to the left flank to +attack the French right wing. + +"Gentlemen," said Kutuzov, "I cannot approve of the count's plan. +Moving troops in close proximity to an enemy is always dangerous, +and military history supports that view. For instance..." Kutuzov +seemed to reflect, searching for an example, then with a clear, +naive look at Bennigsen he added: "Oh yes; take the battle of +Friedland, which I think the count well remembers, and which was... +not fully successful, only because our troops were rearranged too near +the enemy..." + +There followed a momentary pause, which seemed very long to them +all. + +The discussion recommenced, but pauses frequently occurred and +they all felt that there was no more to be said. + +During one of these pauses Kutuzov heaved a deep sigh as if +preparing to speak. They all looked at him. + +"Well, gentlemen, I see that it is I who will have to pay for the +broken crockery," said he, and rising slowly he moved to the table. +"Gentlemen, I have heard your views. Some of you will not agree with +me. But I," he paused, "by the authority entrusted to me by my +Sovereign and country, order a retreat." + +After that the generals began to disperse with the solemnity and +circumspect silence of people who are leaving, after a funeral. + +Some of the generals, in low tones and in a strain very different +from the way they had spoken during the council, communicated +something to their commander in chief. + +Malasha, who had long been expected for supper, climbed carefully +backwards down from the oven, her bare little feet catching at its +projections, and slipping between the legs of the generals she +darted out of the room. + +When he had dismissed the generals Kutuzov sat a long time with +his elbows on the table, thinking always of the same terrible +question: "When, when did the abandonment of Moscow become inevitable? +When was that done which settled the matter? And who was to blame +for it?" + +"I did not expect this," said he to his adjutant Schneider when +the latter came in late that night. "I did not expect this! I did +not think this would happen." + +"You should take some rest, your Serene Highness," replied +Schneider. + +"But no! They shall eat horseflesh yet, like the Turks!" exclaimed +Kutuzov without replying, striking the table with his podgy fist. +"They shall too, if only..." + +CHAPTER V + +At that very time, in circumstances even more important than +retreating without a battle, namely the evacuation and burning of +Moscow, Rostopchin, who is usually represented as being the instigator +of that event, acted in an altogether different manner from Kutuzov. + +After the battle of Borodino the abandonment and burning of Moscow +was as inevitable as the retreat of the army beyond Moscow without +fighting. + +Every Russian might have predicted it, not by reasoning but by the +feeling implanted in each of us and in our fathers. + +The same thing that took place in Moscow had happened in all the +towns and villages on Russian soil beginning with Smolensk, without +the participation of Count Rostopchin and his broadsheets. The +people awaited the enemy unconcernedly, did not riot or become excited +or tear anyone to pieces, but faced its fate, feeling within it the +strength to find what it should do at that most difficult moment. +And as soon as the enemy drew near the wealthy classes went away +abandoning their property, while the poorer remained and burned and +destroyed what was left. + +The consciousness that this would be so and would always be so was +and is present in the heart of every Russian. And a consciousness of +this, and a foreboding that Moscow would be taken, was present in +Russian Moscow society in 1812. Those who had quitted Moscow already +in July and at the beginning of August showed that they expected this. +Those who went away, taking what they could and abandoning their +houses and half their belongings, did so from the latent patriotism +which expresses itself not by phrases or by giving one's children to +save the fatherland and similar unnatural exploits, but unobtrusively, +simply, organically, and therefore in the way that always produces the +most powerful results. + +"It is disgraceful to run away from danger; only cowards are running +away from Moscow," they were told. In his broadsheets Rostopchin +impressed on them that to leave Moscow was shameful. They were ashamed +to be called cowards, ashamed to leave, but still they left, knowing +it had to be done. Why did they go? It is impossible to suppose that +Rostopchin had scared them by his accounts of horrors Napoleon had +committed in conquered countries. The first people to go away were the +rich educated people who knew quite well that Vienna and Berlin had +remained intact and that during Napoleon's occupation the +inhabitants had spent their time pleasantly in the company of the +charming Frenchmen whom the Russians, and especially the Russian +ladies, then liked so much. + +They went away because for Russians there could be no question as to +whether things would go well or ill under French rule in Moscow. It +was out of the question to be under French rule, it would be the worst +thing that could happen. They went away even before the battle of +Borodino and still more rapidly after it, despite Rostopchin's calls +to defend Moscow or the announcement of his intention to take the +wonder-working icon of the Iberian Mother of God and go to fight, or +of the balloons that were to destroy the French, and despite all the +nonsense Rostopchin wrote in his broadsheets. They knew that it was +for the army to fight, and that if it could not succeed it would not +do to take young ladies and house serfs to the Three Hills quarter +of Moscow to fight Napoleon, and that they must go away, sorry as they +were to abandon their property to destruction. They went away +without thinking of the tremendous significance of that immense and +wealthy city being given over to destruction, for a great city with +wooden buildings was certain when abandoned by its inhabitants to be +burned. They went away each on his own account, and yet it was only in +consequence of their going away that the momentous event was +accomplished that will always remain the greatest glory of the Russian +people. The lady who, afraid of being stopped by Count Rostopchin's +orders, had already in June moved with her Negroes and her women +jesters from Moscow to her Saratov estate, with a vague +consciousness that she was not Bonaparte's servant, was really, +simply, and truly carrying out the great work which saved Russia. +But Count Rostopchin, who now taunted those who left Moscow and now +had the government offices removed; now distributed quite useless +weapons to the drunken rabble; now had processions displaying the +icons, and now forbade Father Augustin to remove icons or the relics +of saints; now seized all the private carts in Moscow and on one +hundred and thirty-six of them removed the balloon that was being +constructed by Leppich; now hinted that he would burn Moscow and +related how he had set fire to his own house; now wrote a proclamation +to the French solemnly upbraiding them for having destroyed his +Orphanage; now claimed the glory of having hinted that he would burn +Moscow and now repudiated the deed; now ordered the people to catch +all spies and bring them to him, and now reproached them for doing so; +now expelled all the French residents from Moscow, and now allowed +Madame Aubert-Chalme (the center of the whole French colony in Moscow) +to remain, but ordered the venerable old postmaster Klyucharev to be +arrested and exiled for no particular offense; now assembled the +people at the Three Hills to fight the French and now, to get rid of +them, handed over to them a man to be killed and himself drove away by +a back gate; now declared that he would not survive the fall of +Moscow, and now wrote French verses in albums concerning his share +in the affair- this man did not understand the meaning of what was +happening but merely wanted to do something himself that would +astonish people, to perform some patriotically heroic feat; and like a +child he made sport of the momentous, and unavoidable event- the +abandonment and burning of Moscow- and tried with his puny hand now to +speed and now to stay the enormous, popular tide that bore him along +with it. + +CHAPTER VI + +Helene, having returned with the court from Vilna to Petersburg, +found herself in a difficult position. + +In Petersburg she had enjoyed the special protection of a grandee +who occupied one of the highest posts in the Empire. In Vilna she +had formed an intimacy with a young foreign prince. When she +returned to Petersburg both the magnate and the prince were there, and +both claimed their rights. Helene was faced by a new problem- how to +preserve her intimacy with both without offending either. + +What would have seemed difficult or even impossible to another woman +did not cause the least embarrassment to Countess Bezukhova, who +evidently deserved her reputation of being a very clever woman. Had +she attempted concealment, or tried to extricate herself from her +awkward position by cunning, she would have spoiled her case by +acknowledging herself guilty. But Helene, like a really great man +who can do whatever he pleases, at once assumed her own position to be +correct, as she sincerely believed it to be, and that everyone else +was to blame. + +The first time the young foreigner allowed himself to reproach +her, she lifted her beautiful head and, half turning to him, said +firmly: "That's just like a man- selfish and cruel! I expected nothing +else. A woman sacrifices herself for you, she suffers, and this is her +reward! What right have you, monseigneur, to demand an account of my +attachments and friendships? He is a man who has been more than a +father to me!" The prince was about to say something, but Helene +interrupted him. + +"Well, yes," said she, "it may be that he has other sentiments for +me than those of a father, but that is not a reason for me to shut +my door on him. I am not a man, that I should repay kindness with +ingratitude! Know, monseigneur, that in all that relates to my +intimate feelings I render account only to God and to my +conscience," she concluded, laying her hand on her beautiful, fully +expanded bosom and looking up to heaven. + +"But for heaven's sake listen to me!" + +"Marry me, and I will be your slave!" + +"But that's impossible." + +"You won't deign to demean yourself by marrying me, you..." said +Helene, beginning to cry. + +The prince tried to comfort her, but Helene, as if quite distraught, +said through her tears that there was nothing to prevent her marrying, +that there were precedents (there were up to that time very few, but +she mentioned Napoleon and some other exalted personages), that she +had never been her husband's wife, and that she had been sacrificed. + +"But the law, religion..." said the prince, already yielding. + +"The law, religion... What have they been invented for if they can't +arrange that?" said Helene. + +The prince was surprised that so simple an idea had not occurred +to him, and he applied for advice to the holy brethren of the +Society of Jesus, with whom he was on intimate terms. + +A few days later at one of those enchanting fetes which Helene +gave at her country house on the Stone Island, the charming Monsieur +de Jobert, a man no longer young, with snow white hair and brilliant +black eyes, a Jesuit a robe courte~^ was presented to her, and in the +garden by the light of the illuminations and to the sound of music +talked to her for a long time of the love of God, of Christ, of the +Sacred Heart, and of the consolations the one true Catholic religion +affords in this world and the next. Helene was touched, and more +than once tears rose to her eyes and to those of Monsieur de Jobert +and their voices trembled. A dance, for which her partner came to seek +her, put an end to her discourse with her future directeur de +conscience, but the next evening Monsieur de Jobert came to see Helene +when she was alone, and after that often came again. + +^~ Lay member of the Society of Jesus. + +One day he took the countess to a Roman Catholic church, where she +knelt down before the altar to which she was led. The enchanting, +middle-aged Frenchman laid his hands on her head and, as she herself +afterward described it, she felt something like a fresh breeze +wafted into her soul. It was explained to her that this was la grace. + +After that a long-frocked abbe was brought to her. She confessed +to him, and he absolved her from her sins. Next day she received a box +containing the Sacred Host, which was left at her house for her to +partake of. A few days later Helene learned with pleasure that she had +now been admitted to the true Catholic Church and that in a few days +the Pope himself would hear of her and would send her a certain +document. + +All that was done around her and to her at this time, all the +attention devoted to her by so many clever men and expressed in such +pleasant, refined ways, and the state of dove-like purity she was +now in (she wore only white dresses and white ribbons all that time) +gave her pleasure, but her pleasure did not cause her for a moment +to forget her aim. And as it always happens in contests of cunning +that a stupid person gets the better of cleverer ones, Helene- +having realized that the main object of all these words and all this +trouble was, after converting her to Catholicism, to obtain money from +her for Jesuit institutions (as to which she received indications)- +before parting with her money insisted that the various operations +necessary to free her from her husband should be performed. In her +view the aim of every religion was merely to preserve certain +proprieties while affording satisfaction to human desires. And with +this aim, in one of her talks with her Father Confessor, she +insisted on an answer to the question, in how far was she bound by her +marriage? + +They were sitting in the twilight by a window in the drawing room. +The scent of flowers came in at the window. Helene was wearing a white +dress, transparent over her shoulders and bosom. The abbe, a +well-fed man with a plump, clean-shaven chin, a pleasant firm mouth, +and white hands meekly folded on his knees, sat close to Helene and, +with a subtle smile on his lips and a peaceful look of delight at +her beauty, occasionally glanced at her face as he explained his +opinion on the subject. Helene with an uneasy smile looked at his +curly hair and his plump, clean-shaven, blackish cheeks and every +moment expected the conversation to take a fresh turn. But the abbe, +though he evidently enjoyed the beauty of his companion, was +absorbed in his mastery of the matter. + +The course of the Father Confessor's arguments ran as follows: +"Ignorant of the import of what you were undertaking, you made a vow +of conjugal fidelity to a man who on his part, by entering the married +state without faith in the religious significance of marriage, +committed an act of sacrilege. That marriage lacked the dual +significance it should have had. Yet in spite of this your vow was +binding. You swerved from it. What did you commit by so acting? A +venial, or a mortal, sin? A venial sin, for you acted without evil +intention. If now you married again with the object of bearing +children, your sin might be forgiven. But the question is again a +twofold one: firstly..." + +But suddenly Helene, who was getting bored, said with one of her +bewitching smiles: "But I think that having espoused the true religion +I cannot be bound by what a false religion laid upon me." + +The director of her conscience was astounded at having the case +presented to him thus with the simplicity of Columbus' egg. He was +delighted at the unexpected rapidity of his pupil's progress, but +could not abandon the edifice of argument he had laboriously +constructed. + +"Let us understand one another, Countess," said he with a smile, and +began refuting his spiritual daughter's arguments. + +CHAPTER VII + +Helene understood that the question was very simple and easy from +the ecclesiastical point of view, and that her directors were making +difficulties only because they were apprehensive as to how the +matter would be regarded by the secular authorities. + +So she decided that it was necessary to prepare the opinion of +society. She provoked the jealousy of the elderly magnate and told him +what she had told her other suitor; that is, she put the matter so +that the only way for him to obtain a right over her was to marry her. +The elderly magnate was at first as much taken aback by this +suggestion of marriage with a woman whose husband was alive, as the +younger man had been, but Helene's imperturbable conviction that it +was as simple and natural as marrying a maiden had its effect on him +too. Had Helene herself shown the least sign of hesitation, shame, +or secrecy, her cause would certainly have been lost; but not only did +she show no signs of secrecy or shame, on the contrary, with +good-natured naivete she told her intimate friends (and these were all +Petersburg) that both the prince and the magnate had proposed to her +and that she loved both and was afraid of grieving either. + +A rumor immediately spread in Petersburg, not that Helene wanted +to be divorced from her husband (had such a report spread many would +have opposed so illegal an intention) but simply that the +unfortunate and interesting Helene was in doubt which of the two men +she should marry. The question was no longer whether this was +possible, but only which was the better match and how the matter would +be regarded at court. There were, it is true, some rigid individuals +unable to rise to the height of such a question, who saw in the +project a desecration of the sacrament of marriage, but there were not +many such and they remained silent, while the majority were interested +in Helene's good fortune and in the question which match would be +the more advantageous. Whether it was right or wrong to remarry +while one had a husband living they did not discuss, for that question +had evidently been settled by people "wiser than you or me," as they +said, and to doubt the correctness of that decision would be to risk +exposing one's stupidity and incapacity to live in society. + +Only Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, had come to Petersburg that +summer to see one of her sons, allowed herself plainly to express an +opinion contrary to the general one. Meeting Helene at a ball she +stopped her in the middle of the room and, amid general silence, +said in her gruff voice: "So wives of living men have started marrying +again! Perhaps you think you have invented a novelty? You have been +forestalled, my dear! It was thought of long ago. It is done in all +the brothels," and with these words Marya Dmitrievna, turning up her +wide sleeves with her usual threatening gesture and glancing sternly +round, moved across the room. + +Though people were afraid of Marya Dmitrievna she was regarded in +Petersburg as a buffoon, and so of what she had said they only +noticed, and repeated in a whisper, the one coarse word she had +used, supposing the whole sting of her remark to lie in that word. + +Prince Vasili, who of late very often forgot what he had said and +repeated one and the same thing a hundred times, remarked to his +daughter whenever he chanced to see her: + +"Helene, I have a word to say to you," and he would lead her +aside, drawing her hand downward. "I have heard of certain projects +concerning... you know. Well my dear child, you know how your father's +heart rejoices to know that you... You have suffered so much.... +But, my dear child, consult only your own heart. That is all I have to +say," and concealing his unvarying emotion he would press his cheek +against his daughter's and move away. + +Bilibin, who had not lost his reputation of an exceedingly clever +man, and who was one of one of the disinterested friends so +brilliant a woman as Helene always has- men friends who can never +change into lovers- once gave her his view of the matter at a small +and intimate gathering. + +"Listen, Bilibin," said Helene (she always called friends of that +sort by their surnames), and she touched his coat sleeve with her +white, beringed fingers. "Tell me, as you would a sister, what I ought +to do. Which of the two?" + +Bilibin wrinkled up the skin over his eyebrows and pondered, with +a smile on his lips. + +"You are not taking me unawares, you know," said he. "As a true +friend, I have thought and thought again about your affair. You see, +if you marry the prince"- he meant the younger man- and he crooked one +finger, "you forever lose the chance of marrying the other, and you +will displease the court besides. (You know there is some kind of +connection.) But if you marry the old count you will make his last +days happy, and as widow of the Grand... the prince would no longer be +making a mesalliance by marrying you," and Bilibin smoothed out his +forehead. + +"That's a true friend!" said Helene beaming, and again touching +Bilibin's sleeve. "But I love them, you know, and don't want to +distress either of them. I would give my life for the happiness of +them both." + +Bilibin shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say that not even he +could help in that difficulty. + +"Une maitresse-femme!~^ That's what is called putting things +squarely. She would like to be married to all three at the same time," +thought he. + +^~ A masterly woman. + +"But tell me, how will your husband look at the matter?" Bilibin +asked, his reputation being so well established that he did not fear +to ask so naive a question. "Will he agree?" + +"Oh, he loves me so!" said Helene, who for some reason imagined that +Pierre too loved her. "He will do anything for me." + +Bilibin puckered his skin in preparation for something witty. + +"Even divorce you?" said he. + +Helene laughed. + +Among those who ventured to doubt the justifiability of the proposed +marriage was Helene's mother, Princess Kuragina. She was continually +tormented by jealousy of her daughter, and now that jealousy concerned +a subject near to her own heart, she could not reconcile herself to +the idea. She consulted a Russian priest as to the possibility of +divorce and remarriage during a husband's lifetime, and the priest +told her that it was impossible, and to her delight showed her a +text in the Gospel which (as it seemed to him) plainly remarriage +while the husband is alive. + +Armed with these arguments, which appeared to her unanswerable, +she drove to her daughter's early one morning so as to find her alone. + +Having listened to her mother's objections, Helene smiled blandly +and ironically. + +"But it says plainly: 'Whosoever shall marry her that is +divorced...'" said the old princess. + +"Ah, Maman, ne dites pas de betises. Vous ne comprenez rein. Dans ma +position j'ai des devoirs,"~^ said Helene changing from Russian, in +which language she always felt that her case did not sound quite +clear, into French which suited it better. + +^~ "Oh, Mamma, don't talk nonsense! You don't understand anything. +In my position I have obligations. + +"But, my dear...." + +"Oh, Mamma, how is it you don't understand that the Holy Father, who +has the right to grant dispensations..." + +Just then the lady companion who lived with Helene came in to +announce that His Highness was in the ballroom and wished to see her. + +"Non, dites-lui que je ne veux pas le voir, que je suis furieuse +contre lui, parce qu'il m' a manque parole."~^ + +^~ "No, tell him I don't wish to see him, I am furious with him for +not keeping his word to me." + +"Comtesse, a tout peche misericorde,"~^ said a fair-haired young +man with a long face and nose, as he entered the room. + +^~ "Countess, there is mercy for every sin." + +The old princess rose respectfully and curtsied. The young man who +had entered took no notice of her. The princess nodded to her daughter +and sidled out of the room. + +"Yes, she is right," thought the old princess, all her convictions +dissipated by the appearance of His Highness. "She is right, but how +is it that we in our irrecoverable youth did not know it? Yet it is so +simple," she thought as she got into her carriage. + +By the beginning of August Helene's affairs were clearly defined and +she wrote a letter to her husband- who, as she imagined, loved her +very much- informing him of her intention to marry N.N. and of her +having embraced the one true faith, and asking him to carry out all +the formalities necessary for a divorce, which would be explained to +him by the bearer of the letter. + +And so I pray God to have you, my friend, in His holy and powerful +keeping- Your friend Helene. + +This letter was brought to Pierre's house when he was on the field +of Borodino. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Toward the end of the battle of Borodino, Pierre, having run down +from Raevski's battery a second time, made his way through a gully +to Knyazkovo with a crowd of soldiers, reached the dressing station, +and seeing blood and hearing cries and groans hurried on, still +entangled in the crowds of soldiers. + +The one thing he now desired with his whole soul was to get away +quickly from the terrible sensations amid which he had lived that +day and return to ordinary conditions of life and sleep quietly in a +room in his own bed. He felt that only in the ordinary conditions of +life would he be able to understand himself and all he had seen and +felt. But such ordinary conditions of life were nowhere to be found. + +Though shells and bullets did not whistle over the road along +which he was going, still on all sides there was what there had been +on the field of battle. There were still the same suffering, +exhausted, and sometimes strangely indifferent faces, the same +blood, the same soldiers' overcoats, the same sounds of firing +which, though distant now, still aroused terror, and besides this +there were the foul air and the dust. + +Having gone a couple of miles along the Mozhaysk road, Pierre sat +down by the roadside. + +Dusk had fallen, and the roar of guns died away. Pierre lay +leaning on his elbow for a long time, gazing at the shadows that moved +past him in the darkness. He was continually imagining that a cannon +ball was flying toward him with a terrific whizz, and then he +shuddered and sat up. He had no idea how long he had been there. In +the middle of the night three soldiers, having brought some +firewood, settled down near him and began lighting a fire. + +The soldiers, who threw sidelong glances at Pierre, got the fire +to burn and placed an iron pot on it into which they broke some +dried bread and put a little dripping. The pleasant odor of greasy +viands mingled with the smell of smoke. Pierre sat up and sighed. +The three soldiers were eating and talking among themselves, taking no +notice of him. + +"And who may you be?" one of them suddenly asked Pierre, evidently +meaning what Pierre himself had in mind, namely: "If you want to eat +we'll give you some food, only let us know whether you are an honest +man." + +"I, I..." said Pierre, feeling it necessary to minimize his social +position as much as possible so as to be nearer to the soldiers and +better understood by them. "By rights I am a militia officer, but my +men are not here. I came to the battle and have lost them." + +"There now!" said one of the soldiers. + +Another shook his head. + +"Would you like a little mash?" the first soldier asked, and +handed Pierre a wooden spoon after licking it clean. + +Pierre sat down by the fire and began eating the mash, as they +called the food in the cauldron, and he thought it more delicious than +any food he had ever tasted. As he sat bending greedily over it, +helping himself to large spoonfuls and chewing one after another, +his was lit up by the fire and the soldiers looked at him in silence. + +"Where have you to go to? Tell us!" said one of them. + +"To Mozhaysk." + +"You're a gentleman, aren't you?" + +"Yes." + +"And what's your name?" + +"Peter Kirilych." + +"Well then, Peter Kirilych, come along with us, we'll take you +there." + +In the total darkness the soldiers walked with Pierre to Mozhaysk. + +By the time they got near Mozhaysk and began ascending the steep +hill into the town, the cocks were already crowing. Pierre went on +with the soldiers, quite forgetting that his inn was at the bottom +of the hill and that he had already passed it. He would not soon +have remembered this, such was his state of forgetfulness, had he +not halfway up the hill stumbled upon his groom, who had been to +look for him in the town and was returning to the inn. The groom +recognized Pierre in the darkness by his white hat. + +"Your excellency!" he said. "Why, we were beginning to despair! +How is it you are on foot? And where are you going, please?" + +"Oh, yes!" said Pierre. + +The soldiers stopped. + +"So you've found your folk?" said one of them. "Well, good-by, Peter +Kirilych- isn't it?" + +"Good-by, Peter Kirilych!" Pierre heard the other voices repeat. + +"Good-by!" he said and turned with his groom toward the inn. + +"I ought to give them something!" he thought, and felt in his +pocket. "No, better not!" said another, inner voice. + +There was not a room to be had at the inn, they were all occupied. +Pierre went out into the yard and, covering himself up head and all, +lay down in his carriage. + +CHAPTER IX + +Scarcely had Pierre laid his head on the pillow before he felt +himself falling asleep, but suddenly, almost with the distinctness +of reality, he heard the boom, boom, boom of firing, the thud of +projectiles, groans and cries, and smelled blood and powder, and a +feeling of horror and dread of death seized him. Filled with fright he +opened his eyes and lifted his head from under his cloak. All was +tranquil in the yard. Only someone's orderly passed through the +gateway, splashing through the mud, and talked to the innkeeper. Above +Pierre's head some pigeons, disturbed by the movement he had made in +sitting up, fluttered under the dark roof of the penthouse. The +whole courtyard was permeated by a strong peaceful smell of stable +yards, delightful to Pierre at that moment. He could see the clear +starry sky between the dark roofs of two penthouses. + +"Thank God, there is no more of that!" he thought, covering up his +head again. "Oh, what a terrible thing is fear, and how shamefully I +yielded to it! But they... they were steady and calm all the time, +to the end..." thought he. + +They, in Pierre's mind, were the soldiers, those who had been at the +battery, those who had given him food, and those who had prayed before +the icon. They, those strange men he had not previously known, stood +out clearly and sharply from everyone else. + +"To be a soldier, just a soldier!" thought Pierre as he fell asleep, +"to enter communal life completely, to be imbued by what makes them +what they are. But how cast off all the superfluous, devilish burden +of my outer man? There was a time when I could have done it. I could +have run away from my father, as I wanted to. Or I might have been +sent to serve as a soldier after the duel with Dolokhov." And the +memory of the dinner at the English Club when he had challenged +Dolokhov flashed through Pierre's mind, and then he remembered his +benefactor at Torzhok. And now a picture of a solemn meeting of the +lodge presented itself to his mind. It was taking place at the English +Club and someone near and dear to him sat at the end of the table. +"Yes, that is he! It is my benefactor. But he died!" thought Pierre. +"Yes, he died, and I did not know he was alive. How sorry I am that he +died, and how glad I am that he is alive again!" On one side of the +table sat Anatole, Dolokhov, Nesvitski, Denisov, and others like +them (in his dream the category to which these men belonged was as +clearly defined in his mind as the category of those he termed +they), and he heard those people, Anatole and Dolokhov, shouting and +singing loudly; yet through their shouting the voice of his benefactor +was heard speaking all the time and the sound of his words was as +weighty and uninterrupted as the booming on the battlefield, but +pleasant and comforting. Pierre did not understand what his benefactor +was saying, but he knew (the categories of thoughts were also quite +distinct in his dream) that he was talking of goodness and the +possibility of being what they were. And they with their simple, kind, +firm faces surrounded his benefactor on all sides. But though they +were kindly they did not look at Pierre and did not know him. +Wishing to speak and to attract their attention, he got up, but at +that moment his legs grew cold and bare. + +He felt ashamed, and with one arm covered his legs from which his +cloak had in fact slipped. For a moment as he was rearranging his +cloak Pierre opened his eyes and saw the same penthouse roofs, +posts, and yard, but now they were all bluish, lit up, and +glittering with frost or dew. + +"It is dawn," thought Pierre. "But that's not what I want. I want to +hear and understand my benefactor's words." Again he covered himself +up with his cloak, but now neither the lodge nor his benefactor was +there. There were only thoughts clearly expressed in words, thoughts +that someone was uttering or that he himself was formulating. + +Afterwards when he recalled those thoughts Pierre was convinced that +someone outside himself had spoken them, though the impressions of +that day had evoked them. He had never, it seemed to him, been able to +think and express his thoughts like that when awake. + +"To endure war is the most difficult subordination of man's +freedom to the law of God," the voice had said. "Simplicity is +submission to the will of God; you cannot escape from Him. And they +are simple. They do not talk, but act. The spoken word is silver but +the unspoken is golden. Man can be master of nothing while he fears +death, but he who does not fear it possesses all. If there were no +suffering, man would not know his limitations, would not know himself. +The hardest thing [Pierre went on thinking, or hearing, in his +dream] is to be able in your soul to unite the meaning of all. To +unite all?" he asked himself. "No, not to unite. Thoughts cannot be +united, but to harness all these thoughts together is what we need! +Yes, one must harness them, must harness them!" he repeated to himself +with inward rapture, feeling that these words and they alone expressed +what he wanted to say and solved the question that tormented him. + +"Yes, one must harness, it is time to harness." + +"Time to harness, time to harness, your excellency! Your +excellency!" some voice was repeating. "We must harness, it is time to +harness...." + +It was the voice of the groom, trying to wake him. The sun shone +straight into Pierre's face. He glanced at the dirty innyard in the +middle of which soldiers were watering their lean horses at the pump +while carts were passing out of the gate. Pierre turned away with +repugnance, and closing his eyes quickly fell back on the carriage +seat. "No, I don't want that, I don't want to see and understand that. +I want to understand what was revealing itself to me in my dream. +One second more and I should have understood it all! But what am I +to do? Harness, but how can I harness everything?" and Pierre felt +with horror that the meaning of all he had seen and thought in the +dream had been destroyed. + +The groom, the coachman, and the innkeeper told Pierre that an +officer had come with news that the French were already near +Mozhaysk and that our men were leaving it. + +Pierre got up and, having told them to harness and overtake him, +went on foot through the town. + +The troops were moving on, leaving about ten thousand wounded behind +them. There were wounded in the yards, at the windows of the houses, +and the streets were crowded with them. In the streets, around carts +that were to take some of the wounded away, shouts, curses, and +blows could be heard. Pierre offered the use of his carriage, which +had overtaken him, to a wounded general he knew, and drove with him to +Moscow. On the way Pierre was told of the death of his +brother-in-law Anatole and of that of Prince Andrew. + +CHAPTER X + +On the thirteenth of August Pierre reached Moscow. Close to the +gates of the city he was met by Count Rostopchin's adjutant. + +"We have been looking for you everywhere," said the adjutant. "The +count wants to see you particularly. He asks you to come to him at +once on a very important matter." + +Without going home, Pierre took a cab and drove to see the Moscow +commander in chief. + +Count Rostopchin had only that morning returned to town from his +summer villa at Sokolniki. The anteroom and reception room of his +house were full of officials who had been summoned or had come for +orders. Vasilchikov and Platov had already seen the count and +explained to him that it was impossible to defend Moscow and that it +would have to be surrendered. Though this news was being concealed +from the inhabitants, the officials- the heads of the various +government departments- knew that Moscow would soon be in the +enemy's hands, just as Count Rostopchin himself knew it, and to escape +personal responsibility they had all come to the governor to ask how +they were to deal with their various departments. + +As Pierre was entering the reception room a courier from the army +came out of Rostopchin's private room. + +In answer to questions with which he was greeted, the courier made a +despairing gesture with his hand and passed through the room. + +While waiting in the reception room Pierre with weary eyes watched +the various officials, old and young, military and civilian, who +were there. They all seemed dissatisfied and uneasy. Pierre went up to +a group of men, one of whom he knew. After greeting Pierre they +continued their conversation. + +"If they're sent out and brought back again later on it will do no +harm, but as things are now one can't answer for anything." + +"But you see what he writes..." said another, pointing to a +printed sheet he held in his hand. + +"That's another matter. That's necessary for the people," said the +first. + +"What is it?" asked Pierre. + +"Oh, it's a fresh broadsheet." + +Pierre took it and began reading. + +His Serene Highness has passed through Mozhaysk in order to join +up with the troops moving toward him and has taken up a strong +position where the enemy will not soon attack him. Forty eight guns +with ammunition have been sent him from here, and his Serene +Highness says he will defend Moscow to the last drop of blood and is +even ready to fight in the streets. Do not be upset, brothers, that +the law courts are closed; things have to be put in order, and we will +deal with villains in our own way! When the time comes I shall want +both town and peasant lads and will raise the cry a day or two +beforehand, but they are not wanted yet so I hold my peace. An ax will +be useful, a hunting spear not bad, but a three-pronged fork will be +best of all: a Frenchman is no heavier than a sheaf of rye. Tomorrow +after dinner I shall take the Iberian icon of the Mother of God to the +wounded in the Catherine Hospital where we will have some water +blessed. That will help them to get well quicker. I, too, am well now: +one of my eyes was sore but now I am on the lookout with both. + +"But military men have told me that it is impossible to fight in the +town," said Pierre, "and that the position..." + +"Well, of course! That's what we were saying," replied the first +speaker. + +"And what does he mean by 'One of my eyes was sore but now I am on +the lookout with both'?" asked Pierre. + +"The count had a sty," replied the adjutant smiling, "and was very +much upset when I told him people had come to ask what was the +matter with him. By the by, Count," he added suddenly, addressing +Pierre with a smile, "we heard that you have family troubles and +that the countess, your wife..." + +"I have heard nothing," Pierre replied unconcernedly. "But what have +you heard?" + +"Oh, well, you know people often invent things. I only say what I +heard." + +"But what did you hear?" + +"Well, they say," continued the adjutant with the same smile, +"that the countess, your wife, is preparing to go abroad. I expect +it's nonsense...." + +"Possibly," remarked Pierre, looking about him absent-mindedly. "And +who is that?" he asked, indicating a short old man in a clean blue +peasant overcoat, with a big snow-white beard and eyebrows and a ruddy +face. + +"He? That's a tradesman, that is to say, he's the restaurant keeper, +Vereshchagin. Perhaps you have heard of that affair with the +proclamation." + +"Oh, so that is Vereshchagin!" said Pierre, looking at the firm, +calm face of the old man and seeking any indication of his being a +traitor. + +"That's not he himself, that's the father of the fellow who wrote +the proclamation," said the adjutant. "The young man is in prison +and I expect it will go hard with him." + +An old gentleman wearing a star and another official, a German +wearing a cross round his neck, approached the speaker. + +"It's a complicated story, you know," said the adjutant. "That +proclamation appeared about two months ago. The count was informed +of it. He gave orders to investigate the matter. Gabriel Ivanovich +here made the inquiries. The proclamation had passed through exactly +sixty-three hands. He asked one, 'From whom did you get it?' 'From +so-and-so.' He went to the next one. 'From whom did you get it?' and +so on till he reached Vereshchagin, a half educated tradesman, you +know, 'a pet of a trader,'" said the adjutant smiling. "They asked +him, 'Who gave it you?' And the point is that we knew whom he had it +from. He could only have had it from the Postmaster. But evidently +they had come to some understanding. He replied: 'From no one; I +made it up myself.' They threatened and questioned him, but he stuck +to that: 'I made it up myself.' And so it was reported to the count, +who sent for the man. 'From whom did you get the proclamation?' 'I +wrote it myself.' Well, you know the count," said the adjutant +cheerfully, with a smile of pride, "he flared up dreadfully- and +just think of the fellow's audacity, lying, and obstinacy!" + +"And the count wanted him to say it was from Klyucharev? I +understand!" said Pierre. + +"Not at all," rejoined the adjutant in dismay. "Klyucharev had his +own sins to answer for without that and that is why he has been +banished. But the point is that the count was much annoyed. 'How could +you have written it yourself?' said he, and he took up the Hamburg +Gazette that was lying on the table. 'Here it is! You did not write it +yourself but translated it, and translated it abominably, because +you don't even know French, you fool.' And what do you think? 'No,' +said he, 'I have not read any papers, I made it up myself.' 'If that's +so, you're a traitor and I'll have you tried, and you'll be hanged! +Say from whom you had it.' 'I have seen no papers, I made it up +myself.' And that was the end of it. The count had the father fetched, +but the fellow stuck to it. He was sent for trial and condemned to +hard labor, I believe. Now the father has come to intercede for him. +But he's a good-for-nothing lad! You know that sort of tradesman's +son, a dandy and lady-killer. He attended some lectures somewhere +and imagines that the devil is no match for him. That's the sort of +fellow he is. His father keeps a cookshop here by the Stone Bridge, +and you know there was a large icon of God Almighty painted with a +scepter in one hand and an orb in the other. Well, he took that icon +home with him for a few days and what did he do? He found some +scoundrel of a painter..." + +CHAPTER XI + +In the middle of this fresh tale Pierre was summoned to the +commander in chief. + +When he entered the private room Count Rostopchin, puckering his +face, was rubbing his forehead and eyes with his hand. A short man was +saying something, but when Pierre entered he stopped speaking and went +out. + +"Ah, how do you do, great warrior?" said Rostopchin as soon as the +short man had left the room. "We have heard of your prowess. But +that's not the point. Between ourselves, mon cher, do you belong to +the Masons?" he went on severely, as though there were something wrong +about it which he nevertheless intended to pardon. Pierre remained +silent. "I am well informed, my friend, but I am aware that there +are Masons and Masons and I hope that you are not one of those who +on pretense of saving mankind wish to ruin Russia." + +"Yes, I am a Mason," Pierre replied. + +"There, you see, mon cher! I expect you know that Messrs. +Speranski and Magnitski have been deported to their proper place. +Mr. Klyucharev has been treated in the same way, and so have others +who on the plea of building up the temple of Solomon have tried to +destroy the temple of their fatherland. You can understand that +there are reasons for this and that I could not have exiled the +Postmaster had he not been a harmful person. It has now come to my +knowledge that you lent him your carriage for his removal from town, +and that you have even accepted papers from him for safe custody. I +like you and don't wish you any harm and- as you are only half my age- +I advise you, as a father would, to cease all communication with men +of that stamp and to leave here as soon as possible." + +"But what did Klyucharev do wrong, Count?" asked Pierre. + +"That is for me to know, but not for you to ask," shouted +Rostopchin. + +"If he is accused of circulating Napoleon's proclamation it is not +proved that he did so," said Pierre without looking at Rostopchin, +"and Vereshchagin..." + +"There we are!" Rostopchin shouted at Pierre louder than before, +frowning suddenly. "Vereshchagin is a renegade and a traitor who +will be punished as he deserves," said he with the vindictive heat +with which people speak when recalling an insult. "But I did not +summon you to discuss my actions, but to give you advice- or an +order if you prefer it. I beg you to leave the town and break off +all communication with such men as Klyucharev. And I will knock the +nonsense out of anybody"- but probably realizing that he was +shouting at Bezukhov who so far was not guilty of anything, he +added, taking Pierre's hand in a friendly manner, "We are on the eve +of a public disaster and I haven't time to be polite to everybody +who has business with me. My head is sometimes in a whirl. Well, mon +cher, what are you doing personally?" + +"Why, nothing," answered Pierre without raising his eyes or changing +the thoughtful expression of his face. + +The count frowned. + +"A word of friendly advice, mon cher. Be off as soon as you can, +that's all I have to tell you. Happy he who has ears to hear. Good-by, +my dear fellow. Oh, by the by!" he shouted through the doorway after +Pierre, "is it true that the countess has fallen into the clutches +of the holy fathers of the Society of Jesus?" + +Pierre did not answer and left Rostopchin's room more sullen and +angry than he had ever before shown himself. + +When he reached home it was already getting dark. Some eight +people had come to see him that evening: the secretary of a committee, +the colonel of his battalion, his steward, his major-domo, and various +petitioners. They all had business with Pierre and wanted decisions +from him. Pierre did not understand and was not interested in any of +these questions and only answered them in order to get rid of these +people. When left alone at last he opened and read his wife's letter. + +"They, the soldiers at the battery, Prince Andrew killed... that old +man... Simplicity is submission to God. Suffering is necessary... +the meaning of all... one must harness... my wife is getting +married... One must forget and understand..." And going to his bed +he threw himself on it without undressing and immediately fell asleep. + +When he awoke next morning the major-domo came to inform him that +a special messenger, a police officer, had come from Count +Rostopchin to know whether Count Bezukhov had left or was leaving +the town. + +A dozen persons who had business with Pierre were awaiting him in +the drawing room. Pierre dressed hurriedly and, instead of going to +see them, went to the back porch and out through the gate. + +From that time till the end of the destruction of Moscow no one of +Bezukhov's household, despite all the search they made, saw Pierre +again or knew where he was. + +CHAPTER XII + +The Rostovs remained in Moscow till the first of September, that is, +till the eve of the enemy's entry into the city. + +After Petya had joined Obolenski's regiment of Cossacks and left for +Belaya Tserkov where that regiment was forming, the countess was +seized with terror. The thought that both her sons were at the war, +had both gone from under her wing, that today or tomorrow either or +both of them might be killed like the three sons of one of her +acquaintances, struck her that summer for the first time with cruel +clearness. She tried to get Nicholas back and wished to go herself +to join Petya, or to get him an appointment somewhere in Petersburg, +but neither of these proved possible. Petya could not return unless +his regiment did so or unless he was transferred to another regiment +on active service. Nicholas was somewhere with the army and had not +sent a word since his last letter, in which he had given a detailed +account of his meeting with Princess Mary. The countess did not +sleep at night, or when she did fall asleep dreamed that she saw her +sons lying dead. After many consultations and conversations, the count +at last devised means to tranquillize her. He got Petya transferred +from Obolenski's regiment to Bezukhov's, which was in training near +Moscow. Though Petya would remain in the service, this transfer +would give the countess the consolation of seeing at least one of +her sons under her wing, and she hoped to arrange matters for her +Petya so as not to let him go again, but always get him appointed to +places where he could not possibly take part in a battle. As long as +Nicholas alone was in danger the countess imagined that she loved +her first-born more than all her other children and even reproached +herself for it; but when her youngest: the scapegrace who had been bad +at lessons, was always breaking things in the house and making himself +a nuisance to everybody, that snub-nosed Petya with his merry black +eyes and fresh rosy cheeks where soft down was just beginning to show- +when he was thrown amid those big, dreadful, cruel men who were +fighting somewhere about something and apparently finding pleasure +in it- then his mother thought she loved him more, much more, than all +her other children. The nearer the time came for Petya to return, +the more uneasy grew the countess. She began to think she would +never live to see such happiness. The presence of Sonya, of her +beloved Natasha, or even of her husband irritated her. "What do I want +with them? I want no one but Petya," she thought. + +At the end of August the Rostovs received another letter from +Nicholas. He wrote from the province of Voronezh where he had been +sent to procure remounts, but that letter did not set the countess +at ease. Knowing that one son was out of danger she became the more +anxious about Petya. + +Though by the twentieth of August nearly all the Rostovs' +acquaintances had left Moscow, and though everybody tried to +persuade the countess to get away as quickly as possible, she would +not bear of leaving before her treasure, her adored Petya, returned. +On the twenty-eighth of August he arrived. The passionate tenderness +with which his mother received him did not please the sixteen-year-old +officer. Though she concealed from him her intention of keeping him +under her wing, Petya guessed her designs, and instinctively fearing +that he might give way to emotion when with her- might "become +womanish" as he termed it to himself- he treated her coldly, avoided +her, and during his stay in Moscow attached himself exclusively to +Natasha for whom he had always had a particularly brotherly +tenderness, almost lover-like. + +Owing to the count's customary carelessness nothing was ready for +their departure by the twenty-eighth of August and the carts that were +to come from their Ryazan and Moscow estates to remove their household +belongings did not arrive till the thirtieth. + +From the twenty-eighth till the thirty-first all Moscow was in a +bustle and commotion. Every day thousands of men wounded at Borodino +were brought in by the Dorogomilov gate and taken to various parts +of Moscow, and thousands of carts conveyed the inhabitants and their +possessions out by the other gates. In spite of Rostopchin's +broadsheets, or because of them or independently of them, the +strangest and most contradictory rumors were current in the town. Some +said that no one was to be allowed to leave the city, others on the +contrary said that all the icons had been taken out of the churches +and everybody was to be ordered to leave. Some said there had been +another battle after Borodino at which the French had been routed, +while others on the contrary reported that the Russian army bad been +destroyed. Some talked about the Moscow militia which, preceded by the +clergy, would go to the Three Hills; others whispered that Augustin +had been forbidden to leave, that traitors had been seized, that the +peasants were rioting and robbing people on their way from Moscow, and +so on. But all this was only talk; in reality (though the Council of +Fili, at which it was decided to abandon Moscow, had not yet been +held) both those who went away and those who remained behind felt, +though they did not show it, that Moscow would certainly be abandoned, +and that they ought to get away as quickly as possible and save +their belongings. It was felt that everything would suddenly break +up and change, but up to the first of September nothing had done so. +As a criminal who is being led to execution knows that he must die +immediately, but yet looks about him and straightens the cap that is +awry on his head, so Moscow involuntarily continued its wonted life, +though it knew that the time of its destruction was near when the +conditions of life to which its people were accustomed to submit would +be completely upset. + +During the three days preceding the occupation of Moscow the whole +Rostov family was absorbed in various activities. The head of the +family, Count Ilya Rostov, continually drove about the city collecting +the current rumors from all sides and gave superficial and hasty +orders at home about the preparations for their departure. + +The countess watched the things being packed, was dissatisfied +with everything, was constantly in pursuit of Petya who was always +running away from her, and was jealous of Natasha with whom he spent +all his time. Sonya alone directed the practical side of matters by +getting things packed. But of late Sonya had been particularly sad and +silent. Nicholas' letter in which he mentioned Princess Mary had +elicited, in her presence, joyous comments from the countess, who +saw an intervention of Providence in this meeting of the princess +and Nicholas. + +"I was never pleased at Bolkonski's engagement to Natasha," said the +countess, "but I always wanted Nicholas to marry the princess, and had +a presentiment that it would happen. What a good thing it would be!" + +Sonya felt that this was true: that the only possibility of +retrieving the Rostovs' affairs was by Nicholas marrying a rich woman, +and that the princess was a good match. It was very bitter for her. +But despite her grief, or perhaps just because of it, she took on +herself all the difficult work of directing the storing and packing of +their things and was busy for whole days. The count and countess +turned to her when they had any orders to give. Petya and Natasha on +the contrary, far from helping their parents, were generally a +nuisance and a hindrance to everyone. Almost all day long the house +resounded with their running feet, their cries, and their +spontaneous laughter. They laughed and were gay not because there +was any reason to laugh, but because gaiety and mirth were in their +hearts and so everything that happened was a cause for gaiety and +laughter to them. Petya was in high spirits because having left home a +boy he had returned (as everybody told him) a fine young man, +because he was at home, because he had left Belaya Tserkov where there +was no hope of soon taking part in a battle and had come to Moscow +where there was to be fighting in a few days, and chiefly because +Natasha, whose lead he always followed, was in high spirits. Natasha +was gay because she had been sad too long and now nothing reminded her +of the cause of her sadness, and because she was feeling well. She was +also happy because she had someone to adore her: the adoration of +others was a lubricant the wheels of her machine needed to make them +run freely- and Petya adored her. Above all, they were gay because +there was a war near Moscow, there would be fighting at the town +gates, arms were being given out, everybody was escaping- going away +somewhere, and in general something extraordinary was happening, and +that is always exciting, especially to the young. + +CHAPTER XIII + +On Saturday, the thirty-first of August, everything in the +Rostovs' house seemed topsy-turvy. All the doors were open, all the +furniture was being carried out or moved about, and the mirrors and +pictures had been taken down. There were trunks in the rooms, and hay, +wrapping paper, and ropes were scattered about. The peasants and house +serfs carrying out the things were treading heavily on the parquet +floors. The yard was crowded with peasant carts, some loaded high +and already corded up, others still empty. + +The voices and footsteps of the many servants and of the peasants +who had come with the carts resounded as they shouted to one another +in the yard and in the house. The count bad been out since morning. +The countess had a headache brought on by all the noise and turmoil +and was lying down in the new sitting room with a vinegar compress +on her head. Petya was not at home, he had gone to visit a friend with +whom he meant to obtain a transfer from the militia to the active +army. Sonya was in the ballroom looking after the packing of the glass +and china. Natasha was sitting on the floor of her dismantled room +with dresses, ribbons, and scarves strewn all about her, gazing +fixedly at the floor and holding in her hands the old ball dress +(already out of fashion) which she had worn at her first Petersburg +ball. + +Natasha was ashamed of doing nothing when everyone else was so busy, +and several times that morning had tried to set to work, but her heart +was not in it, and she could not and did not know how to do anything +except with all her heart and all her might. For a while she had stood +beside Sonya while the china was being packed and tried to help, but +soon gave it up and went to her room to pack her own things. At +first she found it amusing to give away dresses and ribbons to the +maids, but when that was done and what was left had still to be +packed, she found it dull. + +"Dunyasha, you pack! You will, won't you, dear?" And when Dunyasha +willingly promised to do it all for her, Natasha sat down on the +floor, took her old ball dress, and fell into a reverie quite +unrelated to what ought to have occupied her thoughts now. She was +roused from her reverie by the talk of the maids in the next room +(which was theirs) and by the sound of their hurried footsteps going +to the back porch. Natasha got up and looked out of the window. An +enormously long row of carts full of wounded men had stopped in the +street. + +The housekeeper, the old nurse, the cooks, coachmen, maids, footmen, +postilions, and scullions stood at the gate, staring at the wounded. + +Natasha, throwing a clean pocket handkerchief over her hair and +holding an end of it in each hand, went out into the street. + +The former housekeeper, old Mavra Kuzminichna, had stepped out of +the crowd by the gate, gone up to a cart with a hood constructed of +bast mats, and was speaking to a pale young officer who lay inside. +Natasha moved a few steps forward and stopped shyly, still holding her +handkerchief, and listened to what the housekeeper was saying. + +"Then you have nobody in Moscow?" she was saying. "You would be more +comfortable somewhere in a house... in ours, for instance... the +family are leaving." + +"I don't know if it would be allowed," replied the officer in a weak +voice. "Here is our commanding officer... ask him," and he pointed +to a stout major who was walking back along the street past the row of +carts. + +Natasha glanced with frightened eyes at the face of the wounded +officer and at once went to meet the major. + +"May the wounded men stay in our house?" she asked. + +The major raised his hand to his cap with a smile. + +"Which one do you want, Ma'am'selle?" said he, screwing up his +eyes and smiling. + +Natasha quietly repeated her question, and her face and whole manner +were so serious, though she was still holding the ends of her +handkerchief, that the major ceased smiling and after some reflection- +as if considering in how far the thing was possible- replied in the +affirmative. + +"Oh yes, why not? They may," he said. + +With a slight inclination of her head, Natasha stepped back +quickly to Mavra Kuzminichna, who stood talking compassionately to the +officer. + +"They may. He says they may!" whispered Natasha. + +The cart in which the officer lay was turned into the Rostovs' yard, +and dozens of carts with wounded men began at the invitation of the +townsfolk to turn into the yards and to draw up at the entrances of +the houses in Povarskaya Street. Natasha was evidently pleased to be +dealing with new people outside the ordinary routine of her life. +She and Mavra Kuzminichna tried to get as many of the wounded as +possible into their yard. + +"Your Papa must be told, though," said Mavra Kuzminichna. + +"Never mind, never mind, what does it matter? For one day we can +move into the drawing room. They can have all our half of the house." + +"There now, young lady, you do take things into your head! Even if +we put them into the wing, the men's room, or the nurse's room, we +must ask permission." + +"Well, I'll ask." + +Natasha ran into the house and went on tiptoe through the +half-open door into the sitting room, where there was a smell of +vinegar and Hoffman's drops. + +"Are you asleep, Mamma?" + +"Oh, what sleep-?" said the countess, waking up just as she was +dropping into a doze. + +"Mamma darling!" said Natasha, kneeling by her mother and bringing +her face close to her mother's, "I am sorry, forgive me, I'll never do +it again; I woke you up! Mavra Kuzminichna has sent me: they have +brought some wounded here- officers. Will you let them come? They have +nowhere to go. I knew you'd let them come!" she said quickly all in +one breath. + +"What officers? Whom have they brought? I don't understand +anything about it," said the countess. + +Natasha laughed, and the countess too smiled slightly. + +"I knew you'd give permission... so I'll tell them," and, having +kissed her mother, Natasha got up and went to the door. + +In the hall she met her father, who had returned with bad news. + +"We've stayed too long!" said the count with involuntary vexation. +"The Club is closed and the police are leaving." + +"Papa, is it all right- I've invited some of the wounded into the +house?" said Natasha. + +"Of course it is," he answered absently. "That's not the point. I +beg you not to indulge in trifles now, but to help to pack, and +tomorrow we must go, go, go!...." + +And the count gave a similar order to the major-domo and the +servants. + +At dinner Petya having returned home told them the news he had +heard. He said the people had been getting arms in the Kremlin, and +that though Rostopchin's broadsheet had said that he would sound a +call two or three days in advance, the order had certainly already +been given for everyone to go armed to the Three Hills tomorrow, and +that there would be a big battle there. + +The countess looked with timid horror at her son's eager, excited +face as he said this. She realized that if she said a word about his +not going to the battle (she knew he enjoyed the thought of the +impending engagement) he would say something about men, honor, and the +fatherland- something senseless, masculine, and obstinate which +there would be no contradicting, and her plans would be spoiled; and +so, hoping to arrange to leave before then and take Petya with her +as their protector and defender, she did not answer him, but after +dinner called the count aside and implored him with tears to take +her away quickly, that very night if possible. With a woman's +involuntary loving cunning she, who till then had not shown any alarm, +said that she would die of fright if they did not leave that very +night. Without any pretense she was now afraid of everything. + +CHAPTER XIV + +Madame Schoss, who had been out to visit her daughter, increased the +countess' fears still more by telling what she had seen at a spirit +dealer's in Myasnitski Street. When returning by that street she had +been unable to pass because of a drunken crowd rioting in front of the +shop. She had taken a cab and driven home by a side street and the +cabman had told her that the people were breaking open the barrels +at the drink store, having received orders to do so. + +After dinner the whole Rostov household set to work with +enthusiastic haste packing their belongings and preparing for their +departure. The old count, suddenly setting to work, kept passing +from the yard to the house and back again, shouting confused +instructions to the hurrying people, and flurrying them still more. +Petya directed things in the yard. Sonya, owing to the count's +contradictory orders, lost her head and did not know what to do. The +servants ran noisily about the house and yard, shouting and disputing. +Natasha, with the ardor characteristic of all she did suddenly set +to work too. At first her intervention in the business of packing +was received skeptically. Everybody expected some prank from her and +did not wish to obey her; but she resolutely and passionately demanded +obedience, grew angry and nearly cried because they did not heed +her, and at last succeeded in making them believe her. Her first +exploit, which cost her immense effort and established her +authority, was the packing of the carpets. The count had valuable +Gobelin tapestries and Persian carpets in the house. When Natasha +set to work two cases were standing open in the ballroom, one almost +full up with crockery, the other with carpets. There was also much +china standing on the tables, and still more was being brought in from +the storeroom. A third case was needed and servants had gone to +fetch it. + +"Sonya, wait a bit- we'll pack everything into these," said Natasha. + +"You can't, Miss, we have tried to," said the butler's assistant. + +"No, wait a minute, please." + +And Natasha began rapidly taking out of the case dishes and plates +wrapped in paper. + +"The dishes must go in here among the carpets," said she. + +"Why, it's a mercy if we can get the carpets alone into three +cases," said the butler's assistant. + +"Oh, wait, please!" And Natasha began rapidly and deftly sorting out +the things. "These aren't needed," said she, putting aside some plates +of Kiev ware. "These- yes, these must go among the carpets," she said, +referring to the Saxony china dishes. + +"Don't, Natasha! Leave it alone! We'll get it all packed," urged +Sonya reproachfully. + +"What a young lady she is!" remarked the major-domo. + +But Natasha would not give in. She turned everything out and began +quickly repacking, deciding that the inferior Russian carpets and +unnecessary crockery should not be taken at all. When everything had +been taken out of the cases, they recommenced packing, and it turned +out that when the cheaper things not worth taking had nearly all +been rejected, the valuable ones really did all go into the two cases. +Only the lid of the case containing the carpets would not shut down. A +few more things might have been taken out, but Natasha insisted on +having her own way. She packed, repacked, pressed, made the butler's +assistant and Petya- whom she had drawn into the business of +packing- press on the lid, and made desperate efforts herself. + +"That's enough, Natasha," said Sonya. "I see you were right, but +just take out the top one." + +"I won't!" cried Natasha, with one hand bolding back the hair that +hung over her perspiring face, while with the other she pressed down +the carpets. "Now press, Petya! Press, Vasilich, press hard!" she +cried. + +The carpets yielded and the lid closed; Natasha, clapping her hands, +screamed with delight and tears fell from her eyes. But this only +lasted a moment. She at once set to work afresh and they now trusted +her completely. The count was not angry even when they told him that +Natasha had countermanded an order of his, and the servants now came +to her to ask whether a cart was sufficiently loaded, and whether it +might be corded up. Thanks to Natasha's directions the work now went +on expeditiously, unnecessary things were left, and the most +valuable packed as compactly as possible. + +But hard as they all worked till quite late that night, they could +not get everything packed. The countess had fallen asleep and the +count, having put off their departure till next morning, went to bed. + +Sonya and Natasha slept in the sitting room without undressing. + +That night another wounded man was driven down the Povarskaya, and +Mavra Kuzminichna, who was standing at the gate, had him brought +into the Rostovs' yard. Mavra Kuzminichna concluded that he was a very +important man. He was being conveyed in a caleche with a raised +hood, and was quite covered by an apron. On the box beside the +driver sat a venerable old attendant. A doctor and two soldiers +followed the carriage in a cart. + +"Please come in here. The masters are going away and the whole house +will be empty," said the old woman to the old attendant. + +"Well, perhaps," said he with a sigh. "We don't expect to get him +home alive! We have a house of our own in Moscow, but it's a long +way from here, and there's nobody living in it." + +"Do us the honor to come in, there's plenty of everything in the +master's house. Come in," said Mavra Kuzminichna. "Is he very ill?" +she asked. + +The attendant made a hopeless gesture. + +"We don't expect to get him home! We must ask the doctor." + +And the old servant got down from the box and went up to the cart. + +"All right!" said the doctor. + +The old servant returned to the caleche, looked into it, shook his +head disconsolately, told the driver to turn into the yard, and +stopped beside Mavra Kuzminichna. + +"O, Lord Jesus Christ!" she murmured. + +She invited them to take the wounded man into the house. + +"The masters won't object..." she said. + +But they had to avoid carrying the man upstairs, and so they took +him into the wing and put him in the room that had been Madame +Schoss'. + +This wounded man was Prince Andrew Bolkonski. + +CHAPTER XV + +Moscow's last day had come. It was a clear bright autumn day, a +Sunday. The church bells everywhere were ringing for service, just +as usual on Sundays. Nobody seemed yet to realize what awaited the +city. + +Only two things indicated the social condition of Moscow- the +rabble, that is the poor people, and the price of commodities. An +enormous crowd of factory hands, house serfs, and peasants, with +whom some officials, seminarists, and gentry were mingled, had gone +early that morning to the Three Hills. Having waited there for +Rostopchin who did not turn up, they became convinced that Moscow +would be surrendered, and then dispersed all about the town to the +public houses and cookshops. Prices too that day indicated the state +of affairs. The price of weapons, of gold, of carts and horses, kept +rising, but the value of paper money and city articles kept falling, +so that by midday there were instances of carters removing valuable +goods, such as cloth, and receiving in payment a half of what they +carted, while peasant horses were fetching five hundred rubles each, +and furniture, mirrors, and bronzes were being given away for nothing. + +In the Rostovs' staid old-fashioned house the dissolution of +former conditions of life was but little noticeable. As to the serfs +the only indication was that three out of their huge retinue +disappeared during the night, but nothing was stolen; and as to the +value of their possessions, the thirty peasant carts that had come +in from their estates and which many people envied proved to be +extremely valuable and they were offered enormous sums of money for +them. Not only were huge sums offered for the horses and carts, but on +the previous evening and early in the morning of the first of +September, orderlies and servants sent by wounded officers came to the +Rostovs' and wounded men dragged themselves there from the Rostovs' +and from neighboring houses where they were accommodated, entreating +the servants to try to get them a lift out of Moscow. The major-domo +to whom these entreaties were addressed, though he was sorry for the +wounded, resolutely refused, saying that he dare not even mention +the matter to the count. Pity these wounded men as one might, it was +evident that if they were given one cart there would be no reason to +refuse another, or all the carts and one's own carriages as well. +Thirty carts could not save all the wounded and in the general +catastrophe one could not disregard oneself and one's own family. So +thought the major-domo on his master's behalf. + +On waking up that morning Count Ilya Rostov left his bedroom softly, +so as not to wake the countess who had fallen asleep only toward +morning, and came out to the porch in his lilac silk dressing gown. In +the yard stood the carts ready corded. The carriages were at the front +porch. The major-domo stood at the porch talking to an elderly orderly +and to a pale young officer with a bandaged arm. On seeing the count +the major-domo made a significant and stern gesture to them both to go +away. + +"Well, Vasilich, is everything ready?" asked the count, and stroking +his bald head he looked good-naturedly at the officer and the +orderly and nodded to them. (He liked to see new faces.) + +"We can harness at once, your excellency." + +"Well, that's right. As soon as the countess wakes we'll be off, God +willing! What is it, gentlemen?" he added, turning to the officer. +"Are you staying in my house?" + +The officer came nearer and suddenly his face flushed crimson. + +"Count, be so good as to allow me... for God's sake, to get into +some corner of one of your carts! I have nothing here with me.... I +shall be all right on a loaded cart..." + +Before the officer had finished speaking the orderly made the same +request on behalf of his master. + +"Oh, yes, yes,yes!" said the count hastily. "I shall be very +pleased, very pleased. Vasilich, you'll see to it. Just unload one +or two carts. Well, what of it... do what's necessary..." said the +count, muttering some indefinite order. + +But at the same moment an expression of warm gratitude on the +officer's face had already sealed the order. The count looked around +him. In the yard, at the gates, at the window of the wings, wounded +officers and their orderlies were to be seen. They were all looking at +the count and moving toward the porch. + +"Please step into the gallery, your excellency," said the +major-domo. "What are your orders about the pictures?" + +The count went into the house with him, repeating his order not to +refuse the wounded who asked for a lift. + +"Well, never mind, some of the things can be unloaded," he added +in a soft, confidential voice, as though afraid of being overheard. + +At nine o'clock the countess woke up, and Matrena Timofeevna, who +had been her lady's maid before her marriage and now performed a +sort of chief gendarme's duty for her, came to say that Madame +Schoss was much offended and the young ladies' summer dresses could +not be left behind. On inquiry, the countess learned that Madame +Schoss was offended because her trunk had been taken down from its +cart, and all the loads were being uncorded and the luggage taken +out of the carts to make room for wounded men whom the count in the +simplicity of his heart had ordered that they should take with them. +The countess sent for her husband. + +"What is this, my dear? I hear that the luggage is being unloaded." + +"You know, love, I wanted to tell you... Countess dear... an officer +came to me to ask for a few carts for the wounded. After all, ours are +things that can be bought but think what being left behind means to +them!... Really now, in our own yard- we asked them in ourselves and +there are officers among them.... You know, I think, my dear... let +them be taken... where's the hurry?" + +The count spoke timidly, as he always did when talking of money +matters. The countess was accustomed to this tone as a precursor of +news of something detrimental to the children's interests, such as the +building of a new gallery or conservatory, the inauguration of a +private theater or an orchestra. She was accustomed always to oppose +anything announced in that timid tone and considered it her duty to do +so. + +She assumed her dolefully submissive manner and said to her husband: +"Listen to me, Count, you have managed matters so that we are +getting nothing for the house, and now you wish to throw away all our- +all the children's property! You said yourself that we have a +hundred thousand rubles' worth of things in the house. I don't +consent, my dear, I don't! Do as you please! It's the government's +business to look after the wounded; they know that. Look at the +Lopukhins opposite, they cleared out everything two days ago. That's +what other people do. It's only we who are such fools. If you have +no pity on me, have some for the children." + +Flourishing his arms in despair the count left the room without +replying. + +"Papa, what are you doing that for?" asked Natasha, who had followed +him into her mother's room. + +"Nothing! What business is it of yours?" muttered the count angrily. + +"But I heard," said Natasha. "Why does Mamma object?" + +"What business is it of yours?" cried the count. + +Natasha stepped up to the window and pondered. + +"Papa! Here's Berg coming to see us," said she, looking out of the +window. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Berg, the Rostovs' son-in-law, was already a colonel wearing the +orders of Vladimir and Anna, and he still filled the quiet and +agreeable post of assistant to the head of the staff of the +assistant commander of the first division of the Second Army. + +On the first of September he had come to Moscow from the army. + +He had nothing to do in Moscow, but he had noticed that everyone +in the army was asking for leave to visit Moscow and had something +to do there. So he considered it necessary to ask for leave of absence +for family and domestic reasons. + +Berg drove up to his father-in-law's house in his spruce little trap +with a pair of sleek roans, exactly like those of a certain prince. He +looked attentively at the carts in the yard and while going up to +the porch took out a clean pocket handkerchief and tied a knot in it. + +From the anteroom Berg ran with smooth though impatient steps into +the drawing room, where he embraced the count, kissed the hands of +Natasha and Sonya, and hastened to inquire after "Mamma's" health. + +"Health, at a time like this?" said the count. "Come, tell us the +news! Is the army retreating or will there be another battle?" + +"God Almighty alone can decide the fate of our fatherland, Papa," +said Berg. "The army is burning with a spirit of heroism and the +leaders, so to say, have now assembled in council. No one knows what +is coming. But in general I can tell you, Papa, that such a heroic +spirit, the truly antique valor of the Russian army, which they- which +it" (he corrected himself) "has shown or displayed in the battle of +the twenty-sixth- there are no words worthy to do it justice! I tell +you, Papa" (he smote himself on the breast as a general he had heard +speaking had done, but Berg did it a trifle late for he should have +struck his breast at the words "Russian army"), "I tell you frankly +that we, the commanders, far from having to urge the men on or +anything of that kind, could hardly restrain those... those... yes, +those exploits of antique valor," he went on rapidly. "General Barclay +de Tolly risked his life everywhere at the head of the troops, I can +assure you. Our corps was stationed on a hillside. You can imagine!" + +And Berg related all that he remembered of the various tales he +had heard those days. Natasha watched him with an intent gaze that +confused him, as if she were trying to find in his face the answer +to some question. + +"Altogether such heroism as was displayed by the Russian warriors +cannot be imagined or adequately praised!" said Berg, glancing round +at Natasha, and as if anxious to conciliate her, replying to her +intent look with a smile. "'Russia is not in Moscow, she lives in +the hearts of her sons!' Isn't it so, Papa?" said he. + +Just then the countess came in from the sitting room with a weary +and dissatisfied expression. Berg hurriedly jumped up, kissed her +hand, asked about her health, and, swaying his head from side to +side to express sympathy, remained standing beside her. + +"Yes, Mamma, I tell you sincerely that these are hard and sad +times for every Russian. But why are you so anxious? You have still +time to get away...." + +"I can't think what the servants are about," said the countess, +turning to her husband. "I have just been told that nothing is ready +yet. Somebody after all must see to things. One misses Mitenka at such +times. There won't be any end to it." + +The count was about to say something, but evidently restrained +himself. He got up from his chair and went to the door. + +At that moment Berg drew out his handkerchief as if to blow his nose +and, seeing the knot in it, pondered, shaking his head sadly and +significantly. + +"And I have a great favor to ask of you, Papa," said he. + +"Hm..." said the count, and stopped. + +"I was driving past Yusupov's house just now," said Berg with a +laugh, "when the steward, a man I know, ran out and asked me whether I +wouldn't buy something. I went in out of curiosity, you know, and +there is a small chiffonier and a dressing table. You know how dear +Vera wanted a chiffonier like that and how we had a dispute about it." +(At the mention of the chiffonier and dressing table Berg +involuntarily changed his tone to one of pleasure at his admirable +domestic arrangements.) "And it's such a beauty! It pulls out and +has a secret English drawer, you know! And dear Vera has long wanted +one. I wish to give her a surprise, you see. I saw so many of those +peasant carts in your yard. Please let me have one, I will pay the man +well, and..." + +The count frowned and coughed. + +"Ask the countess, I don't give orders." + +"If it's inconvenient, please don't," said Berg. "Only I so wanted +it, for dear Vera's sake." + +"Oh, go to the devil, all of you! To the devil, the devil, the +devil..." cried the old count. "My head's in a whirl!" + +And he left the room. The countess began to cry. + +"Yes, Mamma! Yes, these are very hard times!" said Berg. + +Natasha left the room with her father and, as if finding it +difficult to reach some decision, first followed him and then ran +downstairs. + +Petya was in the porch, engaged in giving out weapons to the +servants who were to leave Moscow. The loaded carts were still +standing in the yard. Two of them had been uncorded and a wounded +officer was climbing into one of them helped by an orderly. + +"Do you know what it's about?" Petya asked Natasha. + +She understood that he meant what were their parents quarreling +about. She did not answer. + +"It's because Papa wanted to give up all the carts to the +wounded," said Petya. "Vasilich told me. I consider..." + +"I consider," Natasha suddenly almost shouted, turning her angry +face to Petya, "I consider it so horrid, so abominable, so... I +don't know what. Are we despicable Germans?" + +Her throat quivered with convulsive sobs and, afraid of weakening +and letting the force of her anger run to waste, she turned and rushed +headlong up the stairs. + +Berg was sitting beside the countess consoling her with the +respectful attention of a relative. The count, pipe in hand, was +pacing up and down the room, when Natasha, her face distorted by +anger, burst in like a tempest and approached her mother with rapid +steps. + +"It's horrid! It's abominable! she screamed. "You can't possibly +have ordered it!" + +Berg and the countess looked at her, perplexed and frightened. The +count stood still at the window and listened. + +"Mamma, it's impossible: see what is going on in the yard!" she +cried. "They will be left!..." + +"What's the matter with you? Who are 'they'? What do you want?" + +"Why, the wounded! It's impossible, Mamma. It's monstrous!... No, +Mamma darling, it's not the thing. Please forgive me, darling.... +Mamma, what does it matter what we take away? Only look what is +going on in the yard... Mamma!... It's impossible!" + +The count stood by the window and listened without turning round. +Suddenly he sniffed and put his face closer to the window. + +The countess glanced at her daughter, saw her face full of shame for +her mother, saw her agitation, and understood why her husband did +not turn to look at her now, and she glanced round quite disconcerted. + +"Oh, do as you like! Am I hindering anyone?" she said, not +surrendering at once. + +"Mamma, darling, forgive me!" + +But the countess pushed her daughter away and went up to her +husband. + +"My dear, you order what is right.... You know I don't understand +about it," said she, dropping her eyes shamefacedly. + +"The eggs... the eggs are teaching the hen," muttered the count +through tears of joy, and he embraced his wife who was glad to hide +her look of shame on his breast. + +"Papa! Mamma! May I see to it? May I?..." asked Natasha. "We will +still take all the most necessary things." + +The count nodded affirmatively, and Natasha, at the rapid pace at +which she used to run when playing at tag, ran through the ballroom to +the anteroom and downstairs into the yard. + +The servants gathered round Natasha, but could not believe the +strange order she brought them until the count himself, in his +wife's name, confirmed the order to give up all the carts to the +wounded and take the trunks to the storerooms. When they understood +that order the servants set to work at this new task with pleasure and +zeal. It no longer seemed strange to them but on the contrary it +seemed the only thing that could be done, just as a quarter of an hour +before it had not seemed strange to anyone that the wounded should +be left behind and the goods carted away but that had seemed the +only thing to do. + +The whole household, as if to atone for not having done it sooner, +set eagerly to work at the new task of placing the wounded in the +carts. The wounded dragged themselves out of their rooms and stood +with pale but happy faces round the carts. The news that carts were to +be had spread to the neighboring houses, from which wounded men +began to come into the Rostovs' yard. Many of the wounded asked them +not to unload the carts but only to let them sit on the top of the +things. But the work of unloading, once started, could not be +arrested. It seemed not to matter whether all or only half the +things were left behind. Cases full of china, bronzes, pictures, and +mirrors that had been so carefully packed the night before now lay +about the yard, and still they went on searching for and finding +possibilities of unloading this or that and letting the wounded have +another and yet another cart. + +"We can take four more men," said the steward. "They can have my +trap, or else what is to become of them?" + +"Let them have my wardrobe cart," said the countess. "Dunyasha can +go with me in the carriage." + +They unloaded the wardrobe cart and sent it to take wounded men from +a house two doors off. The whole household, servants included, was +bright and animated. Natasha was in a state of rapturous excitement +such as she had not known for a long time. + +"What could we fasten this onto?" asked the servants, trying to +fix a trunk on the narrow footboard behind a carriage. "We must keep +at least one cart." + +"What's in it?" asked Natasha. + +"The count's books." + +"Leave it, Vasilich will put it away. It's not wanted." + +The phaeton was full of people and there was a doubt as to where +Count Peter could sit. + +"On the box. You'll sit on the box, won't you, Petya?" cried +Natasha. + +Sonya too was busy all this time, but the aim of her efforts was +quite different from Natasha's. She was putting away the things that +had to be left behind and making a list of them as the countess +wished, and she tried to get as much taken away with them as possible. + +CHAPTER XVII + +Before two o'clock in the afternoon the Rostovs' four carriages, +packed full and with the horses harnessed, stood at the front door. +One by one the carts with the wounded had moved out of the yard. + +The caleche in which Prince Andrew was being taken attracted Sonya's +attention as it passed the front porch. With the help of a maid she +was arranging a seat for the countess in the huge high coach that +stood at the entrance. + +"Whose caleche is that?" she inquired, leaning out of the carriage +window. + +"Why, didn't you know, Miss?" replied the maid. "The wounded prince: +he spent the night in our house and is going with us." + +"But who is it? What's his name?" + +"It's our intended that was- Prince Bolkonski himself! They say he +is dying," replied the maid with a sigh. + +Sonya jumped out of the coach and ran to the countess. The countess, +tired out and already dressed in shawl and bonnet for her journey, was +pacing up and down the drawing room, waiting for the household to +assemble for the usual silent prayer with closed doors before +starting. Natasha was not in the room. + +"Mamma," said Sonya, "Prince Andrew is here, mortally wounded. He is +going with us." + +The countess opened her eyes in dismay and, seizing Sonya's arm, +glanced around. + +"Natasha?" she murmured. + +At that moment this news had only one significance for both of them. +They knew their Natasha, and alarm as to what would happen if she +heard this news stifled all sympathy for the man they both liked. + +"Natasha does not know yet, but he is going with us," said Sonya. + +"You say he is dying?" + +Sonya nodded. + +The countess put her arms around Sonya and began to cry. + +"The ways of God are past finding out!" she thought, feeling that +the Almighty Hand, hitherto unseen, was becoming manifest in all +that was now taking place. + +"Well, Mamma? Everything is ready. What's the matter?" asked +Natasha, as with animated face she ran into the room. + +"Nothing," answered the countess. "If everything is ready let us +start." + +And the countess bent over her reticule to hide her agitated face. +Sonya embraced Natasha and kissed her. + +Natasha looked at her inquiringly. + +"What is it? What has happened?" + +"Nothing... No..." + +"Is it something very bad for me? What is it?" persisted Natasha +with her quick intuition. + +Sonya sighed and made no reply. The count, Petya, Madame Schoss, +Mavra Kuzminichna, and Vasilich came into the drawing room and, having +closed the doors, they all sat down and remained for some moments +silently seated without looking at one another. + +The count was the first to rise, and with a loud sigh crossed +himself before the icon. All the others did the same. Then the count +embraced Mavra Kuzminichna and Vasilich, who were to remain in Moscow, +and while they caught at his hand and kissed his shoulder he patted +their backs lightly with some vaguely affectionate and comforting +words. The countess went into the oratory and there Sonya found her on +her knees before the icons that had been left here and there hanging +on the wall. (The most precious ones, with which some family tradition +was connected, were being taken with them.) + +In the porch and in the yard the men whom Petya had armed with +swords and daggers, with trousers tucked inside their high boots and +with belts and girdles tightened, were taking leave of those remaining +behind. + +As is always the case at a departure, much had been forgotten or put +in the wrong place, and for a long time two menservants stood one on +each side of the open door and the carriage steps waiting to help +the countess in, while maids rushed with cushions and bundles from the +house to the carriages, the caleche, the phaeton, and back again. + +"They always will forget everything!" said the countess. "Don't +you know I can't sit like that?" + +And Dunyasha, with clenched teeth, without replying but with an +aggrieved look on her face, hastily got into the coach to rearrange +the seat. + +"Oh, those servants!" said the count, swaying his head. + +Efim, the old coachman, who was the only one the countess trusted to +drive her, sat perched up high on the box and did not so much as +glance round at what was going on behind him. From thirty years' +experience he knew it would be some time yet before the order, "Be +off, in God's name!" would be given him: and he knew that even when it +was said he would be stopped once or twice more while they sent back +to fetch something that had been forgotten, and even after that he +would again be stopped and the countess herself would lean out of +the window and beg him for the love of heaven to drive carefully +down the hill. He knew all this and therefore waited calmly for what +would happen, with more patience than the horses, especially the +near one, the chestnut Falcon, who was pawing the ground and +champing his bit. At last all were seated, the carriage steps were +folded and pulled up, the door was shut, somebody was sent for a +traveling case, and the countess leaned out and said what she had to +say. Then Efim deliberately doffed his hat and began crossing himself. +The postilion and all the other servants did the same. "Off, in +God's name!" said Efim, putting on his hat. "Start!" The postilion +started the horses, the off pole horse tugged at his collar, the +high springs creaked, and the body of the coach swayed. The footman +sprang onto the box of the moving coach which jolted as it passed +out of the yard onto the uneven roadway; the other vehicles jolted +in their turn, and the procession of carriages moved up the street. In +the carriages, the caleche, and the phaeton, all crossed themselves as +they passed the church opposite the house. Those who were to remain in +Moscow walked on either side of the vehicles seeing the travelers off. + +Rarely had Natasha experienced so joyful a feeling as now, sitting +in the carriage beside the countess and gazing at the slowly +receding walls of forsaken, agitated Moscow. Occasionally she leaned +out of the carriage window and looked back and then forward at the +long train of wounded in front of them. Almost at the head of the line +she could see the raised hood of Prince Andrew's caleche. She did +not know who was in it, but each time she looked at the procession her +eyes sought that caleche. She knew it was right in front. + +In Kudrino, from the Nikitski, Presnya, and Podnovinsk Streets +came several other trains of vehicles similar to the Rostovs', and +as they passed along the Sadovaya Street the carriages and carts +formed two rows abreast. + +As they were going round the Sukharev water tower Natasha, who was +inquisitively and alertly scrutinizing the people driving or walking +past, suddenly cried out in joyful surprise: + +"Dear me! Mamma, Sonya, look, it's he!" + +"Who? Who?" + +"Look! Yes, on my word, it's Bezukhov!" said Natasha, putting her +head out of the carriage and staring at a tall, stout man in a +coachman's long coat, who from his manner of walking and moving was +evidently a gentleman in disguise, and who was passing under the +arch of the Sukharev tower accompanied by a small, sallow-faced, +beardless old man in a frieze coat. + +"Yes, it really is Bezukhov in a coachman's coat, with a +queer-looking old boy. Really," said Natasha, "look, look!" + +"No, it's not he. How can you talk such nonsense?" + +"Mamma," screamed Natasha, "I'll stake my head it's he! I assure +you! Stop, stop!" she cried to the coachman. + +But the coachman could not stop, for from the Meshchanski Street +came more carts and carriages, and the Rostovs were being shouted at +to move on and not block the way. + +In fact, however, though now much farther off than before, the +Rostovs all saw Pierre- or someone extraordinarily like him- in a +coachman's coat, going down the street with head bent and a serious +face beside a small, beardless old man who looked like a footman. That +old man noticed a face thrust out of the carriage window gazing at +them, and respectfully touching Pierre's elbow said something to him +and pointed to the carriage. Pierre, evidently engrossed in thought, +could not at first understand him. At length when he had understood +and looked in the direction the old man indicated, he recognized +Natasha, and following his first impulse stepped instantly and rapidly +toward the coach. But having taken a dozen steps he seemed to remember +something and stopped. + +Natasha's face, leaning out of the window, beamed with quizzical +kindliness. + +"Peter Kirilovich, come here! We have recognized you! This is +wonderful!" she cried, holding out her hand to him. "What are you +doing? Why are you like this?" + +Pierre took her outstretched hand and kissed it awkwardly as he +walked along beside her while the coach still moved on. + +"What is the matter, Count?" asked the countess in a surprised and +commiserating tone. + +"What? What? Why? Don't ask me," said Pierre, and looked round at +Natasha whose radiant, happy expression- of which he was conscious +without looking at her- filled him with enchantment. + +"Are you remaining in Moscow, then?" + +Pierre hesitated. + +"In Moscow?" he said in a questioning tone. "Yes, in Moscow. +Goodby!" + +"Ah, if only I were a man? I'd certainly stay with you. How +splendid!" said Natasha. "Mamma, if you'll let me, I'll stay!" + +Pierre glanced absently at Natasha and was about to say something, +but the countess interrupted him. + +"You were at the battle, we heard." + +"Yes, I was," Pierre answered. "There will be another battle +tomorrow..." he began, but Natasha interrupted him. + +"But what is the matter with you, Count? You are not like +yourself...." + +"Oh, don't ask me, don't ask me! I don't know myself. Tomorrow... +But no! Good-by, good-by!" he muttered. "It's an awful time!" and +dropping behind the carriage he stepped onto the pavement. + +Natasha continued to lean out of the window for a long time, beaming +at him with her kindly, slightly quizzical, happy smile. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +For the last two days, ever since leaving home, Pierre had been +living in the empty house of his deceased benefactor, Bazdeev. This is +how it happened. + +When he woke up on the morning after his return to Moscow and his +interview with Count Rostopchin, he could not for some time make out +where he was and what was expected of him. When he was informed that +among others awaiting him in his reception room there was a +Frenchman who had brought a letter from his wife, the Countess Helene, +he felt suddenly overcome by that sense of confusion and +hopelessness to which he was apt to succumb. He felt that everything +was now at an end, all was in confusion and crumbling to pieces, +that nobody was right or wrong, the future held nothing, and there was +no escape from this position. Smiling unnaturally and muttering to +himself, he first sat down on the sofa in an attitude of despair, then +rose, went to the door of the reception room and peeped through the +crack, returned flourishing his arms, and took up a book. His +major-domo came in a second time to say that the Frenchman who had +brought the letter from the countess was very anxious to see him if +only for a minute, and that someone from Bazdeev's widow had called to +ask Pierre to take charge of her husband's books, as she herself was +leaving for the country. + +"Oh, yes, in a minute; wait... or no! No, of course... go and say +I will come directly," Pierre replied to the major-domo. + +But as soon as the man had left the room Pierre took up his hat +which was lying on the table and went out of his study by the other +door. There was no one in the passage. He went along the whole +length of this passage to the stairs and, frowning and rubbing his +forehead with both hands, went down as far as the first landing. The +hall porter was standing at the front door. From the landing where +Pierre stood there was a second staircase leading to the back +entrance. He went down that staircase and out into the yard. No one +had seen him. But there were some carriages waiting, and as soon as +Pierre stepped out of the gate the coachmen and the yard porter +noticed him and raised their caps to him. When he felt he was being +looked at he behaved like an ostrich which hides its head in a bush in +order not to be seen: he hung his head and quickening his pace went +down the street. + +Of all the affairs awaiting Pierre that day the sorting of Joseph +Bazdeev's books and papers appeared to him the most necessary. + +He hired the first cab he met and told the driver to go to the +Patriarch's Ponds, where the widow Bazdeev's house was. + +Continually turning round to look at the rows of loaded carts that +were making their way from all sides out of Moscow, and balancing +his bulky body so as not to slip out of the ramshackle old vehicle, +Pierre, experiencing the joyful feeling of a boy escaping from school, +began to talk to his driver. + +The man told him that arms were being distributed today at the +Kremlin and that tomorrow everyone would be sent out beyond the +Three Hills gates and a great battle would be fought there. + +Having reached the Patriarch's Ponds Pierre found the Bazdeevs' +house, where he had not been for a long time past. He went up to the +gate. Gerasim, that sallow beardless old man Pierre had seen at +Torzhok five years before with Joseph Bazdeev, came out in answer to +his knock. + +"At home?" asked Pierre. + +"Owing to the present state of things Sophia Danilovna has gone to +the Torzhok estate with the children, your excellency." + +"I will come in all the same, I have to look through the books," +said Pierre. + +"Be so good as to step in. Makar Alexeevich, the brother of my +late master- may the kingdom of heaven be his- has remained here, +but he is in a weak state as you know," said the old servant. + +Pierre knew that Makar Alexeevich was Joseph Bazdeev's half-insane +brother and a hard drinker. + +"Yes, yes, I know. Let us go in..." said Pierre and entered the +house. + +A tall, bald-headed old man with a red nose, wearing a dressing gown +and with galoshes on his bare feet, stood in the anteroom. On seeing +Pierre he muttered something angrily and went away along the passage. + +"He was a very clever man but has now grown quite feeble, as your +honor sees," said Gerasim. "Will you step into the study?" Pierre +nodded. "As it was sealed up so it has remained, but Sophia +Danilovna gave orders that if anyone should come from you they were to +have the books." + +Pierre went into that gloomy study which he had entered with such +trepidation in his benefactor's lifetime. The room, dusty and +untouched since the death of Joseph Bazdeev was now even gloomier. + +Gerasim opened one of the shutters and left the room on tiptoe. +Pierre went round the study, approached the cupboard in which the +manuscripts were kept, and took out what had once been one of the most +important, the holy of holies of the order. This was the authentic +Scotch Acts with Bazdeev's notes and explanations. He sat down at +the dusty writing table, and, having laid the manuscripts before +him, opened them out, closed them, finally pushed them away, and +resting his head on his hand sank into meditation. + +Gerasim looked cautiously into the study several times and saw +Pierre always sitting in the same attitude. + +More than two hours passed and Gerasim took the liberty of making +a slight noise at the door to attract his attention, but Pierre did +not hear him. + +"Is the cabman to be discharged, your honor?" + +"Oh yes!" said Pierre, rousing himself and rising hurriedly. "Look +here," he added, taking Gerasim by a button of his coat and looking +down at the old man with moist, shining, and ecstatic eyes, "I say, do +you know that there is going to be a battle tomorrow?" + +"We heard so," replied the man. + +"I beg you not to tell anyone who I am, and to do what I ask you." + +"Yes, your excellency," replied Gerasim. "Will you have something to +eat?" + +"No, but I want something else. I want peasant clothes and a +pistol," said Pierre, unexpectedly blushing. + +"Yes, your excellency," said Gerasim after thinking for a moment. + +All the rest of that day Pierre spent alone in his benefactor's +study, and Gerasim heard him pacing restlessly from one corner to +another and talking to himself. And he spent the night on a bed made +up for him there. + +Gerasim, being a servant who in his time had seen many strange +things, accepted Pierre's taking up his residence in the house without +surprise, and seemed pleased to have someone to wait on. That same +evening- without even asking himself what they were wanted for- he +procured a coachman's coat and cap for Pierre, and promised to get him +the pistol next day. Makar Alexeevich came twice that evening +shuffling along in his galoshes as far as the door and stopped and +looked ingratiatingly at Pierre. But as soon as Pierre turned toward +him he wrapped his dressing gown around him with a shamefaced and +angry look and hurried away. It was when Pierre (wearing the +coachman's coat which Gerasim had procured for him and had disinfected +by steam) was on his way with the old man to buy the pistol at the +Sukharev market that he met the Rostovs. + +CHAPTER XIX + +Kutuzov's order to retreat through Moscow to the Ryazan road was +issued at night on the first of September. + +The first troops started at once, and during the night they +marched slowly and steadily without hurry. At daybreak, however, those +nearing the town at the Dorogomilov bridge saw ahead of them masses of +soldiers crowding and hurrying across the bridge, ascending on the +opposite side and blocking the streets and alleys, while endless +masses of troops were bearing down on them from behind, and an +unreasoning hurry and alarm overcame them. They all rushed forward +to the bridge, onto it, and to the fords and the boats. Kutuzov +himself had driven round by side streets to the other side of Moscow. + +By ten o'clock in the morning of the second of September, only the +rear guard remained in the Dorogomilov suburb, where they had ample +room. The main army was on the other side of Moscow or beyond it. + +At that very time, at ten in the morning of the second of September, +Napoleon was standing among his troops on the Poklonny Hill looking at +the panorama spread out before him. From the twenty-sixth of August to +the second of September, that is from the battle of Borodino to the +entry of the French into Moscow, during the whole of that agitating, +memorable week, there had been the extraordinary autumn weather that +always comes as a surprise, when the sun hangs low and gives more heat +than in spring, when everything shines so brightly in the rare clear +atmosphere that the eyes smart, when the lungs are strengthened and +refreshed by inhaling the aromatic autumn air, when even the nights +are warm, and when in those dark warm nights, golden stars startle and +delight us continually by falling from the sky. + +At ten in the morning of the second of September this weather +still held. + +The brightness of the morning was magical. Moscow seen from the +Poklonny Hill lay spaciously spread out with her river, her gardens, +and her churches, and she seemed to be living her usual life, her +cupolas glittering like stars in the sunlight. + +The view of the strange city with its peculiar architecture, such as +he had never seen before, filled Napoleon with the rather envious +and uneasy curiosity men feel when they see an alien form of life that +has no knowledge of them. This city was evidently living with the full +force of its own life. By the indefinite signs which, even at a +distance, distinguish a living body from a dead one, Napoleon from the +Poklonny Hill perceived the throb of life in the town and felt, as +it were, the breathing of that great and beautiful body. + +Every Russian looking at Moscow feels her to be a mother; every +foreigner who sees her, even if ignorant of her significance as the +mother city, must feel her feminine character, and Napoleon felt it. + +"Cette ville asiatique aux innombrables eglises, Moscou la sainte. +La voila done enfin, cette fameuse ville! Il etait temps,"~^ said he, +and dismounting he ordered a plan of Moscow to be spread out before +him, and summoned Lelorgne d'Ideville, the interpreter. + +^~ "That Asiatic city of the innumerable churches, holy Moscow! Here +it is then at last, that famous city. It was high time." + +"A town captured by the enemy is like a maid who has lost her +honor," thought he (he had said so to Tuchkov at Smolensk). From +that point of view he gazed at the Oriental beauty he had not seen +before. It seemed strange to him that his long-felt wish, which had +seemed unattainable, had at last been realized. In the clear morning +light he gazed now at the city and now at the plan, considering its +details, and the assurance of possessing it agitated and awed him. + +"But could it be otherwise?" he thought. "Here is this capital at my +feet. Where is Alexander now, and of what is he thinking? A strange, +beautiful, and majestic city; and a strange and majestic moment! In +what light must I appear to them!" thought he, thinking of his troops. +"Here she is, the reward for all those fainthearted men," he +reflected, glancing at those near him and at the troops who were +approaching and forming up. "One word from me, one movement of my +hand, and that ancient capital of the Tsars would perish. But my +clemency is always ready to descend upon the vanquished. I must be +magnanimous and truly great. But no, it can't be true that I am in +Moscow," he suddenly thought. "Yet here she is lying at my feet, +with her golden domes and crosses scintillating and twinkling in the +sunshine. But I shall spare her. On the ancient monuments of barbarism +and despotism I will inscribe great words of justice and mercy.... +It is just this which Alexander will feel most painfully, I know him." +(It seemed to Napoleon that the chief import of what was taking +place lay in the personal struggle between himself and Alexander.) +"From the height of the Kremlin- yes, there is the Kremlin, yes- I +will give them just laws; I will teach them the meaning of true +civilization, I will make generations of boyars remember their +conqueror with love. I will tell the deputation that I did not, and do +not, desire war, that I have waged war only against the false policy +of their court; that I love and respect Alexander and that in Moscow I +will accept terms of peace worthy of myself and of my people. I do not +wish to utilize the fortunes of war to humiliate an honored monarch. +'Boyars,' I will say to them, 'I do not desire war, I desire the peace +and welfare of all my subjects.' However, I know their presence will +inspire me, and I shall speak to them as I always do: clearly, +impressively, and majestically. But can it be true that I am in +Moscow? Yes, there she lies." + +"Qu'on m'amene les boyars,"~^ said he to his suite. + +^~ "Bring the boyars to me." + +A general with a brilliant suite galloped off at once to fetch the +boyars. + +Two hours passed. Napoleon had lunched and was again standing in the +same place on the Poklonny Hill awaiting the deputation. His speech to +the boyars had already taken definite shape in his imagination. That +speech was full of dignity and greatness as Napoleon understood it. + +He was himself carried away by the tone of magnanimity he intended +to adopt toward Moscow. In his imagination he appointed days for +assemblies at the palace of the Tsars, at which Russian notables and +his own would mingle. He mentally appointed a governor, one who +would win the hearts of the people. Having learned that there were +many charitable institutions in Moscow he mentally decided that he +would shower favors on them all. He thought that, as in Africa he +had to put on a burnoose and sit in a mosque, so in Moscow he must +be beneficent like the Tsars. And in order finally to touch the hearts +of the Russians- and being like all Frenchmen unable to imagine +anything sentimental without a reference to ma chere, ma tendre, ma +pauvre mere~^ - he decided that he would place an inscription on all +these establishments in large letters: "This establishment is +dedicated to my dear mother." Or no, it should be simply: Maison de ma +Mere,~^ he concluded. "But am I really in Moscow? Yes, here it +lies before me, but why is the deputation from the city so long in +appearing?" he wondered. + +^~ "My dear, my tender, my poor mother." + +^~ "House of my Mother." + +Meanwhile an agitated consultation was being carried on in +whispers among his generals and marshals at the rear of his suite. +Those sent to fetch the deputation had returned with the news that +Moscow was empty, that everyone had left it. The faces of those who +were not conferring together were pale and perturbed. They were not +alarmed by the fact that Moscow had been abandoned by its +inhabitants (grave as that fact seemed), but by the question how to +tell the Emperor- without putting him in the terrible position of +appearing ridiculous- that he had been awaiting the boyars so long +in vain: that there were drunken mobs left in Moscow but no one +else. Some said that a deputation of some sort must be scraped +together, others disputed that opinion and maintained that the Emperor +should first be carefully and skillfully prepared, and then told the +truth. + +"He will have to be told, all the same," said some gentlemen of +the suite. "But, gentlemen..." + +The position was the more awkward because the Emperor, meditating +upon his magnanimous plans, was pacing patiently up and down before +the outspread map, occasionally glancing along the road to Moscow from +under his lifted hand with a bright and proud smile. + +"But it's impossible..." declared the gentlemen of the suite, +shrugging their shoulders but not venturing to utter the implied word- +le ridicule... + +At last the Emperor, tired of futile expectation, his actor's +instinct suggesting to him that the sublime moment having been too +long drawn out was beginning to lose its sublimity, gave a sign with +his hand. A single report of a signaling gun followed, and the troops, +who were already spread out on different sides of Moscow, moved into +the city through Tver, Kaluga, and Dorogomilov gates. Faster and +faster, vying with one another, they moved at the double or at a trot, +vanishing amid the clouds of dust they raised and making the air +ring with a deafening roar of mingling shouts. + +Drawn on by the movement of his troops Napoleon rode with them as +far as the Dorogomilov gate, but there again stopped and, +dismounting from his horse, paced for a long time by the +Kammer-Kollezski rampart, awaiting the deputation. + +CHAPTER XX + +Meanwhile Moscow was empty. There were still people in it, perhaps a +fiftieth part of its former inhabitants had remained, but it was +empty. It was empty in the sense that a dying queenless hive is empty. + +In a queenless hive no life is left though to a superficial glance +it seems as much alive as other hives. + +The bees circle round a queenless hive in the hot beams of the +midday sun as gaily as around the living hives; from a distance it +smells of honey like the others, and bees fly in and out in the same +way. But one has only to observe that hive to realize that there is no +longer any life in it. The bees do not fly in the same way, the +smell and the sound that meet the beekeeper are not the same. To the +beekeeper's tap on the wall of the sick hive, instead of the former +instant unanimous humming of tens of thousands of bees with their +abdomens threateningly compressed, and producing by the rapid +vibration of their wings an aerial living sound, the only reply is a +disconnected buzzing from different parts of the deserted hive. From +the alighting board, instead of the former spirituous fragrant smell +of honey and venom, and the warm whiffs of crowded life, comes an odor +of emptiness and decay mingling with the smell of honey. There are +no longer sentinels sounding the alarm with their abdomens raised, and +ready to die in defense of the hive. There is no longer the measured +quiet sound of throbbing activity, like the sound of boiling water, +but diverse discordant sounds of disorder. In and out of the hive long +black robber bees smeared with honey fly timidly and shiftily. They do +not sting, but crawl away from danger. Formerly only bees laden with +honey flew into the hive, and they flew out empty; now they fly out +laden. The beekeeper opens the lower part of the hive and peers in. +Instead of black, glossy bees- tamed by toil, clinging to one +another's legs and drawing out the wax, with a ceaseless hum of labor- +that used to hang in long clusters down to the floor of the hive, +drowsy shriveled bees crawl about separately in various directions +on the floor and walls of the hive. Instead of a neatly glued floor, +swept by the bees with the fanning of their wings, there is a floor +littered with bits of wax, excrement, dying bees scarcely moving their +legs, and dead ones that have not been cleared away. + +The beekeeper opens the upper part of the hive and examines the +super. Instead of serried rows of bees sealing up every gap in the +combs and keeping the brood warm, he sees the skillful complex +structures of the combs, but no longer in their former state of +purity. All is neglected and foul. Black robber bees are swiftly and +stealthily prowling about the combs, and the short home bees, +shriveled and listless as if they were old, creep slowly about without +trying to hinder the robbers, having lost all motive and all sense +of life. Drones, bumblebees, wasps, and butterflies knock awkwardly +against the walls of the hive in their flight. Here and there among +the cells containing dead brood and honey an angry buzzing can +sometimes be heard. Here and there a couple of bees, by force of habit +and custom cleaning out the brood cells, with efforts beyond their +strength laboriously drag away a dead bee or bumblebee without knowing +why they do it. In another corner two old bees are languidly fighting, +or cleaning themselves, or feeding one another, without themselves +knowing whether they do it with friendly or hostile intent. In a third +place a crowd of bees, crushing one another, attack some victim and +fight and smother it, and the victim, enfeebled or killed, drops +from above slowly and lightly as a feather, among the heap of corpses. +The keeper opens the two center partitions to examine the brood cells. +In place of the former close dark circles formed by thousands of +bees sitting back to back and guarding the high mystery of generation, +he sees hundreds of dull, listless, and sleepy shells of bees. They +have almost all died unawares, sitting in the sanctuary they had +guarded and which is now no more. They reek of decay and death. Only a +few of them still move, rise, and feebly fly to settle on the +enemy's hand, lacking the spirit to die stinging him; the rest are +dead and fall as lightly as fish scales. The beekeeper closes the +hive, chalks a mark on it, and when he has time tears out its contents +and burns it clean. + +So in the same way Moscow was empty when Napoleon, weary, uneasy, +and morose, paced up and down in front of the Kammer-Kollezski +rampart, awaiting what to his mind was a necessary, if but formal, +observance of the proprieties- a deputation. + +In various corners of Moscow there still remained a few people +aimlessly moving about, following their old habits and hardly aware of +what they were doing. + +When with due circumspection Napoleon was informed that Moscow was +empty, he looked angrily at his informant, turned away, and silently +continued to walk to and fro. + +"My carriage!" he said. + +He took his seat beside the aide-de-camp on duty and drove into +the suburb. "Moscow deserted!" he said to himself. "What an incredible +event!" + +He did not drive into the town, but put up at an inn in the +Dorogomilov suburb. + +The coup de theatre had not come off. + +CHAPTER XXI + +The Russian troops were passing through Moscow from two o'clock at +night till two in the afternoon and bore away with them the wounded +and the last of the inhabitants who were leaving. + +The greatest crush during the movement of the troops took place at +the Stone, Moskva, and Yauza bridges. + +While the troops, dividing into two parts when passing around the +Kremlin, were thronging the Moskva and the Stone bridges, a great many +soldiers, taking advantage of the stoppage and congestion, turned back +from the bridges and slipped stealthily and silently past the church +of Vasili the Beatified and under the Borovitski gate, back up the +hill to the Red Square where some instinct told them they could easily +take things not belonging to them. Crowds of the kind seen at cheap +sales filled all the passages and alleys of the Bazaar. But there were +no dealers with voices of ingratiating affability inviting customers +to enter; there were no hawkers, nor the usual motley crowd of +female purchasers- but only soldiers, in uniforms and overcoats though +without muskets, entering the Bazaar empty-handed and silently +making their way out through its passages with bundles. Tradesmen +and their assistants (of whom there were but few) moved about among +the soldiers quite bewildered. They unlocked their shops and locked +them up again, and themselves carried goods away with the help their +assistants. On the square in front of the Bazaar were drummers beating +the muster call. But the roll of the drums did not make the looting +soldiers run in the direction of the drum as formerly, but made +them, on the contrary, run farther away. Among the soldiers in the +shops and passages some men were to be seen in gray coats, with +closely shaven heads. Two officers, one with a scarf over his +uniform and mounted on a lean, dark-gray horse, the other in an +overcoat and on foot, stood at the corner of Ilyinka Street, +talking. A third officer galloped up to them. + +"The general orders them all to be driven out at once, without fail. +This is outrageous! Half the men have dispersed." + +"Where are you off to?... Where?..." he shouted to three infantrymen +without muskets who, holding up the skirts of their overcoats, were +slipping past him into the Bazaar passage. "Stop, you rascals!" + +"But how are you going to stop them?" replied another officer. +"There is no getting them together. The army should push on before the +rest bolt, that's all!" + +"How can one push on? They are stuck there, wedged on the bridge, +and don't move. Shouldn't we put a cordon round to prevent the rest +from running away?" + +"Come, go in there and drive them out!" shouted the senior officer. + +The officer in the scarf dismounted, called up a drummer, and went +with him into the arcade. Some soldiers started running away in a +group. A shopkeeper with red pimples on his cheeks near the nose, +and a calm, persistent, calculating expression on his plump face, +hurriedly and ostentatiously approached the officer, swinging his +arms. + +"Your honor!" said he. "Be so good as to protect us! We won't grudge +trifles, you are welcome to anything- we shall be delighted! +Pray!... I'll fetch a piece of cloth at once for such an honorable +gentleman, or even two pieces with pleasure. For we feel how it is; +but what's all this- sheer robbery! If you please, could not guards be +placed if only to let us close the shop...." + +Several shopkeepers crowded round the officer. + +"Eh, what twaddle!" said one of them, a thin, stern-looking man. +"When one's head is gone one doesn't weep for one's hair! Take what +any of you like!" And flourishing his arm energetically he turned +sideways to the officer. + +"It's all very well for you, Ivan Sidorych, to talk," said the first +tradesman angrily. "Please step inside, your honor!" + +"Talk indeed!" cried the thin one. "In my three shops here I have +a hundred thousand rubles' worth of goods. Can they be saved when +the army has gone? Eh, what people! 'Against God's might our hands +can't fight.'" + +"Come inside, your honor!" repeated the tradesman, bowing. + +The officer stood perplexed and his face showed indecision. + +"It's not my business!" he exclaimed, and strode on quickly down one +of the passages. + +From one open shop came the sound of blows and vituperation, and +just as the officer came up to it a man in a gray coat with a shaven +head was flung out violently. + +This man, bent double, rushed past the tradesman and the officer. +The officer pounced on the soldiers who were in the shops, but at that +moment fearful screams reached them from the huge crowd on the +Moskva bridge and the officer ran out into the square. + +"What is it? What is it?" he asked, but his comrade was already +galloping off past Vasili the Beatified in the direction from which +the screams came. + +The officer mounted his horse and rode after him. When he reached +the bridge he saw two unlimbered guns, the infantry crossing the +bridge, several overturned carts, and frightened and laughing faces +among the troops. Beside the cannon a cart was standing to which two +horses were harnessed. Four borzois with collars were pressing close +to the wheels. The cart was loaded high, and at the very top, beside a +child's chair with its legs in the air, sat a peasant woman uttering +piercing and desperate shrieks. He was told by his fellow officers +that the screams of the crowd and the shrieks of the woman were due to +the fact that General Ermolov, coming up to the crowd and learning +that soldiers were dispersing among the shops while crowds of +civilians blocked the bridge, had ordered two guns to be unlimbered +and made a show of firing at the bridge. The crowd, crushing one +another, upsetting carts, and shouting and squeezing desperately, +had cleared off the bridge and the troops were now moving forward. + +CHAPTER XXII + +Meanwhile, the city itself was deserted. There was hardly anyone +in the streets. The gates and shops were all closed, only here and +there round the taverns solitary shouts or drunken songs could be +heard. Nobody drove through the streets and footsteps were rarely +heard. The Povarskaya was quite still and deserted. The huge courtyard +of the Rostovs' house was littered with wisps of hay and with dung +from the horses, and not a soul was to be seen there. In the great +drawing room of the house, which had been left with all it +contained, were two people. They were the yard porter Ignat, and the +page boy Mishka, Vasilich's grandson who had stayed in Moscow with his +grandfather. Mishka had opened the clavichord and was strumming on +it with one finger. The yard porter, his arms akimbo, stood smiling +with satisfaction before the large mirror. + +"Isn't it fine, eh, Uncle Ignat?" said the boy, suddenly beginning +to strike the keyboard with both hands. + +"Only fancy!" answered Ignat, surprised at the broadening grin on +his face in the mirror. + +"Impudence! Impudence!" they heard behind them the voice of Mavra +Kuzminichna who had entered silently. "How he's grinning, the fat mug! +Is that what you're here for? Nothing's cleared away down there and +Vasilich is worn out. Just you wait a bit!" + +Ignat left off smiling, adjusted his belt, and went out of the +room with meekly downcast eyes. + +"Aunt, I did it gently," said the boy. + +"I'll give you something gently, you monkey you!" cried Mavra +Kuzminichna, raising her arm threateningly. "Go and get the samovar to +boil for your grandfather." + +Mavra Kuzminichna flicked the dust off the clavichord and closed it, +and with a deep sigh left the drawing room and locked its main door. + +Going out into the yard she paused to consider where she should go +next- to drink tea in the servants' wing with Vasilich, or into the +storeroom to put away what still lay about. + +She heard the sound of quick footsteps in the quiet street. +Someone stopped at the gate, and the latch rattled as someone tried to +open it. Mavra Kuzminichna went to the gate. + +"Who do you want?" + +"The count- Count Ilya Andreevich Rostov." + +"And who are you?" + +"An officer, I have to see him," came the reply in a pleasant, +well-bred Russian voice. + +Mavra Kuzminichna opened the gate and an officer of eighteen, with +the round face of a Rostov, entered the yard. + +"They have gone away, sir. Went away yesterday at vespertime," +said Mavra Kuzminichna cordially. + +The young officer standing in the gateway, as if hesitating +whether to enter or not, clicked his tongue. + +"Ah, how annoying!" he muttered. "I should have come yesterday.... +Ah, what a pity." + +Meanwhile, Mavra Kuzminichna was attentively and sympathetically +examining the familiar Rostov features of the young man's face, his +tattered coat and trodden-down boots. + +"What did you want to see the count for?" she asked. + +"Oh well... it can't be helped!" said he in a tone of vexation and +placed his hand on the gate as if to leave. + +He again paused in indecision. + +"You see," he suddenly said, "I am a kinsman of the count's and he +has been very kind to me. As you see" (he glanced with an amused air +and good-natured smile at his coat and boots) "my things are worn +out and I have no money, so I was going to ask the count..." + +Mavra Kuzminichna did not let him finish. + +"Just wait a minute, sir. One little moment," said she. + +And as soon as the officer let go of the gate handle she turned and, +hurrying away on her old legs, went through the back yard to the +servants' quarters. + +While Mavra Kuzminichna was running to her room the officer walked +about the yard gazing at his worn-out boots with lowered head and a +faint smile on his lips. "What a pity I've missed Uncle! What a nice +old woman! Where has she run off to? And how am I to find the +nearest way to overtake my regiment, which must by now be getting near +the Rogozhski gate?" thought he. Just then Mavra Kuzminichna +appeared from behind the corner of the house with a frightened yet +resolute look, carrying a rolled-up check kerchief in her hand. +While still a few steps from the officer she unfolded the kerchief and +took out of it a white twenty-five-ruble assignat and hastily handed +it to him. + +"If his excellency had been at home, as a kinsman he would of +course... but as it is..." + +Mavra Kuzminichna grew abashed and confused. The officer did not +decline, but took the note quietly and thanked her. + +"If the count had been at home..." Mavra Kuzminichna went on +apologetically. "Christ be with you, sir! May God preserve you!" +said she, bowing as she saw him out. + +Swaying his head and smiling as if amused at himself, the officer +ran almost at a trot through the deserted streets toward the Yauza +bridge to overtake his regiment. + +But Mavra Kuzminichna stood at the closed gate for some time with +moist eyes, pensively swaying her head and feeling an unexpected +flow of motherly tenderness and pity for the unknown young officer. + +CHAPTER XXIII + +From an unfinished house on the Varvarka, the ground floor of +which was a dramshop, came drunken shouts and songs. On benches +round the tables in a dirty little room sat some ten factory hands. +Tipsy and perspiring, with dim eyes and wide-open mouths, they were +all laboriously singing some song or other. They were singing +discordantly, arduously, and with great effort, evidently not +because they wished to sing, but because they wanted to show they were +drunk and on a spree. One, a tall, fair-haired lad in a clean blue +coat, was standing over the others. His face with its fine straight +nose would have been handsome had it not been for his thin, +compressed, twitching lips and dull, gloomy, fixed eyes. Evidently +possessed by some idea, he stood over those who were singing, and +solemnly and jerkily flourished above their heads his white arm with +the sleeve turned up to the elbow, trying unnaturally to spread out +his dirty fingers. The sleeve of his coat kept slipping down and he +always carefully rolled it up again with his left hand, as if it +were most important that the sinewy white arm he was flourishing +should be bare. In the midst of the song cries were heard, and +fighting and blows in the passage and porch. The tall lad waved his +arm. + +"Stop it!" he exclaimed peremptorily. "There's a fight, lads!" +And, still rolling up his sleeve, he went out to the porch. + +The factory hands followed him. These men, who under the +leadership of the tall lad were drinking in the dramshop that morning, +had brought the publican some skins from the factory and for this +had had drink served them. The blacksmiths from a neighboring +smithy, hearing the sounds of revelry in the tavern and supposing it +to have been broken into, wished to force their way in too and a fight +in the porch had resulted. + +The publican was fighting one of the smiths at the door, and when +the workmen came out the smith, wrenching himself free from the tavern +keeper, fell face downward on the pavement. + +Another smith tried to enter the doorway, pressing against the +publican with his chest. + +The lad with the turned-up sleeve gave the smith a blow in the +face and cried wildly: "They're fighting us, lads!" + +At that moment the first smith got up and, scratching his bruised +face to make it bleed, shouted in a tearful voice: "Police! Murder!... +They've killed a man, lads!" + +"Oh, gracious me, a man beaten to death- killed!..." screamed a +woman coming out of a gate close by. + +A crowd gathered round the bloodstained smith. + +"Haven't you robbed people enough- taking their last shirts?" said a +voice addressing the publican. "What have you killed a man for, you +thief?" + +The tall lad, standing in the porch, turned his bleared eyes from +the publican to the smith and back again as if considering whom he +ought to fight now. + +"Murderer!" he shouted suddenly to the publican. "Bind him, lads!" + +"I daresay you would like to bind me!" shouted the publican, pushing +away the men advancing on him, and snatching his cap from his head +he flung it on the ground. + +As if this action had some mysterious and menacing significance, the +workmen surrounding the publican paused in indecision. + +"I know the law very well, mates! I'll take the matter to the +captain of police. You think I won't get to him? Robbery is not +permitted to anybody now a days!" shouted the publican, picking up his +cap. + +"Come along then! Come along then!" the publican and the tall +young fellow repeated one after the other, and they moved up the +street together. + +The bloodstained smith went beside them. The factory hands and +others followed behind, talking and shouting. + +At the corner of the Moroseyka, opposite a large house with closed +shutters and bearing a bootmaker's signboard, stood a score of thin, +worn-out, gloomy-faced bootmakers, wearing overalls and long +tattered coats. + +"He should pay folks off properly," a thin workingman, with frowning +brows and a straggly beard, was saying. + +"But he's sucked our blood and now he thinks he's quit of us. He's +been misleading us all the week and now that he's brought us to this +pass he's made off." + +On seeing the crowd and the bloodstained man the workman ceased +speaking, and with eager curiosity all the bootmakers joined the +moving crowd. + +"Where are all the folks going?" + +"Why, to the police, of course!" + +"I say, is it true that we have been beaten?" "And what did you +think? Look what folks are saying." + +Questions and answers were heard. The publican, taking advantage +of the increased crowd, dropped behind and returned to his tavern. + +The tall youth, not noticing the disappearance of his foe, waved his +bare arm and went on talking incessantly, attracting general attention +to himself. It was around him that the people chiefly crowded, +expecting answers from him to the questions that occupied all their +minds. + +"He must keep order, keep the law, that's what the government is +there for. Am I not right, good Christians?" said the tall youth, with +a scarcely perceptible smile. "He thinks there's no government! How +can one do without government? Or else there would be plenty who'd rob +us." + +"Why talk nonsense?" rejoined voices in the crowd. "Will they give +up Moscow like this? They told you that for fun, and you believed +it! Aren't there plenty of troops on the march? Let him in, indeed! +That's what the government is for. You'd better listen to what +people are saying," said some of the mob pointing to the tall youth. + +By the wall of China-Town a smaller group of people were gathered +round a man in a frieze coat who held a paper in his hand. + +"An ukase, they are reading an ukase! Reading an ukase!" cried +voices in the crowd, and the people rushed toward the reader. + +The man in the frieze coat was reading the broadsheet of August 31 +When the crowd collected round him he seemed confused, but at the +demand of the tall lad who had pushed his way up to him, he began in a +rather tremulous voice to read the sheet from the beginning. + +"Early tomorrow I shall go to his Serene Highness," he read +("Sirin Highness," said the tall fellow with a triumphant smile on his +lips and a frown on his brow), "to consult with him to act, and to aid +the army to exterminate these scoundrels. We too will take part..." +the reader went on, and then paused ("Do you see," shouted the youth +victoriously, "he's going to clear up the whole affair for +you...."), "in destroying them, and will send these visitors to the +devil. I will come back to dinner, and we'll set to work. We will +do, completely do, and undo these scoundrels." + +The last words were read out in the midst of complete silence. The +tall lad hung his head gloomily. It was evident that no one had +understood the last part. In particular, the words "I will come back +to dinner," evidently displeased both reader and audience. The +people's minds were tuned to a high pitch and this was too simple +and needlessly comprehensible- it was what any one of them might +have said and therefore was what an ukase emanating from the highest +authority should not say. + +They all stood despondent and silent. The tall youth moved his +lips and swayed from side to side. + +"We should ask him... that's he himself?"... "Yes, ask him +indeed!... Why not? He'll explain"... voices in the rear of the +crowd were suddenly heard saying, and the general attention turned +to the police superintendent's trap which drove into the square +attended by two mounted dragoons. + +The superintendent of police, who had that morning by Count +Rostopchin's orders to burn the barges and had in connection with that +matter acquired a large sum of money which was at that moment in his +pocket, on seeing a crowd bearing down upon him told his coachman to +stop. + +"What people are these?" he shouted to the men, who were moving +singly and timidly in the direction of his trap. + +"What people are these?" he shouted again, receiving no answer. + +"Your honor..." replied the shopman in the frieze coat, "your honor, +in accord with the proclamation of his highest excellency the count, +they desire to serve, not sparing their lives, and it is not any +kind of riot, but as his highest excellence said..." + +"The count has not left, he is here, and an order will be issued +concerning you," said the superintendent of police. "Go on!" he +ordered his coachman. + +The crowd halted, pressing around those who had heard what the +superintendent had said, and looking at the departing trap. + +The superintendent of police turned round at that moment with a +scared look, said something to his coachman, and his horses +increased their speed. + +"It's a fraud, lads! Lead the way to him, himself!" shouted the tall +youth. "Don't let him go, lads! Let him answer us! Keep him!" +shouted different people and the people dashed in pursuit of the trap. + +Following the superintendent of police and talking loudly the +crowd went in the direction of the Lubyanka Street. + +"There now, the gentry and merchants have gone away and left us to +perish. Do they think we're dogs?" voices in the crowd were heard +saying more and more frequently. + +CHAPTER XXIV + +On the evening of the first of September, after his interview with +Kutuzov, Count Rostopchin had returned to Moscow mortified and +offended because he had not been invited to attend the council of war, +and because Kutuzov had paid no attention to his offer to take part in +the defense of the city; amazed also at the novel outlook revealed +to him at the camp, which treated the tranquillity of the capital +and its patriotic fervor as not merely secondary but quite +irrelevant and unimportant matters. Distressed, offended, and +surprised by all this, Rostopchin had returned to Moscow. After supper +he lay down on a sofa without undressing, and was awakened soon +after midnight by a courier bringing him a letter from Kutuzov. This +letter requested the count to send police officers to guide the troops +through the town, as the army was retreating to the Ryazan road beyond +Moscow. This was not news to Rostopchin. He had known that Moscow +would be abandoned not merely since his interview the previous day +with Kutuzov on the Poklonny Hill but ever since the battle of +Borodino, for all the generals who came to Moscow after that battle +had said unanimously that it was impossible to fight another battle, +and since then the government property had been removed every night, +and half the inhabitants had left the city with Rostopchin's own +permission. Yet all the same this information astonished and irritated +the count, coming as it did in the form of a simple note with an order +from Kutuzov, and received at night, breaking in on his beauty sleep. + +When later on in his memoirs Count Rostopchin explained his +actions at this time, he repeatedly says that he was then actuated +by two important considerations: to maintain tranquillity in Moscow +and expedite the departure of the inhabitants. If one accepts this +twofold aim all Rostopchin's actions appear irreproachable. "Why +were the holy relics, the arms, ammunition, gunpowder, and stores of +corn not removed? Why were thousands of inhabitants deceived into +believing that Moscow would not be given up- and thereby ruined?" +"To presence the tranquillity of the city," explains Count Rostopchin. +"Why were bundles of useless papers from the government offices, and +Leppich's balloon and other articles removed?" "To leave the town +empty," explains Count Rostopchin. One need only admit that public +tranquillity is in danger and any action finds a justification. + +All the horrors of the reign of terror were based only on solicitude +for public tranquillity. + +On what, then, was Count Rostopchin's fear for the tranquillity of +Moscow based in 1812? What reason was there for assuming any +probability of an uprising in the city? The inhabitants were leaving +it and the retreating troops were filling it. Why should that cause +the masses to riot? + +Neither in Moscow nor anywhere in Russia did anything resembling +an insurrection ever occur when the enemy entered a town. More than +ten thousand people were still in Moscow on the first and second of +September, and except for a mob in the governor's courtyard, assembled +there at his bidding, nothing happened. It is obvious that there would +have been even less reason to expect a disturbance among the people if +after the battle of Borodino, when the surrender of Moscow became +certain or at least probable, Rostopchin instead of exciting the +people by distributing arms and broadsheets had taken steps to +remove all the holy relics, the gunpowder, munitions, and money, and +had told the population plainly that the town would be abandoned. + +Rostopchin, though he had patriotic sentiments, was a sanguine and +impulsive man who had always moved in the highest administrative +circles and had no understanding at all of the people he supposed +himself to be guiding. Ever since the enemy's entry into Smolensk he +had in imagination been playing the role of director of the popular +feeling of "the heart of Russia." Not only did it seem to him (as to +all administrators) that he controlled the external actions of +Moscow's inhabitants, but he also thought he controlled their mental +attitude by means of his broadsheets and posters, written in a +coarse tone which the people despise in their own class and do not +understand from those in authority. Rostopchin was so pleased with the +fine role of leader of popular feeling, and had grown so used to it, +that the necessity of relinquishing that role and abandoning Moscow +without any heroic display took him unawares and he suddenly felt +the ground slip away from under his feet, so that he positively did +not know what to do. Though he knew it was coming, he did not till the +last moment wholeheartedly believe that Moscow would be abandoned, and +did not prepare for it. The inhabitants left against his wishes. If +the government offices were removed, this was only done on the +demand of officials to whom the count yielded reluctantly. He was +absorbed in the role he had created for himself. As is often the +case with those gifted with an ardent imagination, though he had +long known that Moscow would be abandoned he knew it only with his +intellect, he did not believe it in his heart and did not adapt +himself mentally to this new position of affairs. + +All his painstaking and energetic activity (in how far it was useful +and had any effect on the people is another question) had been +simply directed toward arousing in the masses his own feeling of +patriotic hatred of the French. + +But when events assumed their true historical character, when +expressing hatred for the French in words proved insufficient, when it +was not even possible to express that hatred by fighting a battle, +when self-confidence was of no avail in relation to the one question +before Moscow, when the whole population streamed out of Moscow as one +man, abandoning their belongings and proving by that negative action +all the depth of their national feeling, then the role chosen by +Rostopchin suddenly appeared senseless. He unexpectedly felt himself +ridiculous, weak, and alone, with no ground to stand on. + +When, awakened from his sleep, he received that cold, peremptory +note from Kutuzov, he felt the more irritated the more he felt himself +to blame. All that he had been specially put in charge of, the state +property which he should have removed, was still in Moscow and it +was no longer possible to take the whole of it away. + +"Who is to blame for it? Who has let things come to such a pass?" he +ruminated. "Not I, of course. I had everything ready. I had Moscow +firmly in hand. And this is what they have let it come to! Villains! +Traitors!" he thought, without clearly defining who the villains and +traitors were, but feeling it necessary to hate those traitors whoever +they might be who were to blame for the false and ridiculous +position in which he found himself. + +All that night Count Rostopchin issued orders, for which people came +to him from all parts of Moscow. Those about him had never seen the +count so morose and irritable. + +"Your excellency, the Director of the Registrar's Department has +sent for instructions... From the Consistory, from the Senate, from +the University, from the Foundling Hospital, the Suffragan has sent... +asking for information.... What are your orders about the Fire +Brigade? From the governor of the prison... from the superintendent of +the lunatic asylum..." All night long such announcements were +continually being received by the count. + +To all these inquiries he gave brief and angry replies indicating +that orders from him were not now needed, that the whole affair, +carefully prepared by him, had now been ruined by somebody, and that +that somebody would have to bear the whole responsibility for all that +might happen. + +"Oh, tell that blockhead," he said in reply to the question from the +Registrar's Department, "that he should remain to guard his documents. +Now why are you asking silly questions about the Fire Brigade? They +have horses, let them be off to Vladimir, and not leave them to the +French." + +"Your excellency, the superintendent of the lunatic asylum has come: +what are your commands?" + +"My commands? Let them go away, that's all.... And let the +lunatics out into the town. When lunatics command our armies God +evidently means these other madmen to be free." + +In reply to an inquiry about the convicts in the prison, Count +Rostopchin shouted angrily at the governor: + +"Do you expect me to give you two battalions- which we have not got- +for a convoy? Release them, that's all about it!" + +"Your excellency, there are some political prisoners, Meshkov, +Vereshchagin..." + +"Vereshchagin! Hasn't he been hanged yet?" shouted Rostopchin. +"Bring him to me!" + +CHAPTER XXV + +Toward nine o'clock in the morning, when the troops were already +moving through Moscow, nobody came to the count any more for +instructions. Those who were able to get away were going of their +own accord, those who remained behind decided for themselves what they +must do. + +The count ordered his carriage that he might drive to Sokolniki, and +sat in his study with folded hands, morose, sallow, and taciturn. + +In quiet and untroubled times it seems to every administrator that +it is only by his efforts that the whole population under his rule +is kept going, and in this consciousness of being indispensable +every administrator finds the chief reward of his labor and efforts. +While the sea of history remains calm the ruler-administrator in his +frail bark, holding on with a boat hook to the ship of the people +and himself moving, naturally imagines that his efforts move the +ship he is holding on to. But as soon as a storm arises and the sea +begins to heave and the ship to move, such a delusion is no longer +possible. The ship moves independently with its own enormous motion, +the boat hook no longer reaches the moving vessel, and suddenly the +administrator, instead of appearing a ruler and a source of power, +becomes an insignificant, useless, feeble man. + +Rostopchin felt this, and it was this which exasperated him. + +The superintendent of police, whom the crowd had stopped, went in to +see him at the same time as an adjutant who informed the count that +the horses were harnessed. They were both pale, and the superintendent +of police, after reporting that he had executed the instructions he +had received, informed the count that an immense crowd had collected +in the courtyard and wished to see him. + +Without saying a word Rostopchin rose and walked hastily to his +light, luxurious drawing room, went to the balcony door, took hold +of the handle, let it go again, and went to the window from which he +had a better view of the whole crowd. The tall lad was standing in +front, flourishing his arm and saying something with a stern look. The +blood stained smith stood beside him with a gloomy face. A drone of +voices was audible through the closed window. + +"Is my carriage ready?" asked Rostopchin, stepping back from the +window. + +"It is, your excellency," replied the adjutant. + +Rostopchin went again to the balcony door. + +"But what do they want?" he asked the superintendent of police. + +"Your excellency, they say they have got ready, according to your +orders, to go against the French, and they shouted something about +treachery. But it is a turbulent crowd, your excellency- I hardly +managed to get away from it. Your excellency, I venture to suggest..." + +"You may go. I don't need you to tell me what to do!" exclaimed +Rostopchin angrily. + +He stood by the balcony door looking at the crowd. + +"This is what they have done with Russia! This is what they have +done with me!" thought he, full of an irrepressible fury that welled +up within him against the someone to whom what was happening might +be attributed. As often happens with passionate people, he was +mastered by anger but was still seeking an object on which to vent it. +"Here is that mob, the dregs of the people," he thought as he gazed at +the crowd: "this rabble they have roused by their folly! They want a +victim," he thought as he looked at the tall lad flourishing his +arm. And this thought occurred to him just because he himself +desired a victim, something on which to vent his rage. + +"Is the carriage ready?" he asked again. + +"Yes, your excellency. What are your orders about Vereshchagin? He +is waiting at the porch," said the adjutant. + +"Ah!" exclaimed Rostopchin, as if struck by an unexpected +recollection. + +And rapidly opening the door he went resolutely out onto the +balcony. The talking instantly ceased, hats and caps were doffed, +and all eyes were raised to the count. + +"Good morning, lads!" said the count briskly and loudly. "Thank +you for coming. I'll come out to you in a moment, but we must first +settle with the villain. We must punish the villain who has caused the +ruin of Moscow. Wait for me!" + +And the count stepped as briskly back into the room and slammed +the door behind him. + +A murmur of approbation and satisfaction ran through the crowd. +"He'll settle with all the villains, you'll see! And you said the +French... He'll show you what law is!" the mob were saying as if +reproving one another for their lack of confidence. + +A few minutes later an officer came hurriedly out of the front door, +gave an order, and the dragoons formed up in line. The crowd moved +eagerly from the balcony toward the porch. Rostopchin, coming out +there with quick angry steps, looked hastily around as if seeking +someone. + +"Where is he?" he inquired. And as he spoke he saw a young man +coming round the corner of the house between two dragoons. He had a +long thin neck, and his head, that had been half shaved, was again +covered by short hair. This young man was dressed in a threadbare blue +cloth coat lined with fox fur, that had once been smart, and dirty +hempen convict trousers, over which were pulled his thin, dirty, +trodden-down boots. On his thin, weak legs were heavy chains which +hampered his irresolute movements. + +"Ah!" said Rostopchin, hurriedly turning away his eyes from the +young man in the fur-lined coat and pointing to the bottom step of the +porch. "Put him there." + +The young man in his clattering chains stepped clumsily to the +spot indicated, holding away with one finger the coat collar which +chafed his neck, turned his long neck twice this way and that, sighed, +and submissively folded before him his thin hands, unused to work. + +For several seconds while the young man was taking his place on +the step the silence continued. Only among the back rows of the +people, who were all pressing toward the one spot, could sighs, +groans, and the shuffling of feet be heard. + +While waiting for the young man to take his place on the step +Rostopchin stood frowning and rubbing his face with his hand. + +"Lads!" said he, with a metallic ring in his voice. "This man, +Vereshchagin, is the scoundrel by whose doing Moscow is perishing." + +The young man in the fur-lined coat, stooping a little, stood in a +submissive attitude, his fingers clasped before him. His emaciated +young face, disfigured by the half-shaven head, hung down +hopelessly. At the count's first words he raised it slowly and +looked up at him as if wishing to say something or at least to meet +his eye. But Rostopchin did not look at him. A vein in the young man's +long thin neck swelled like a cord and went blue behind the ear, and +suddenly his face flushed. + +All eyes were fixed on him. He looked at the crowd, and rendered +more hopeful by the expression he read on the faces there, he smiled +sadly and timidly, and lowering his head shifted his feet on the step. + +"He has betrayed his Tsar and his country, he had gone over to +Bonaparte. He alone of all the Russians has disgraced the Russian +name, he has caused Moscow to perish," said Rostopchin in a sharp, +even voice, but suddenly he glanced down at Vereshchagin who continued +to stand in the same submissive attitude. As if inflamed by the sight, +he raised his arm and addressed the people, almost shouting: + +"Deal with him as you think fit! I hand him over to you." + +The crowd remained silent and only pressed closer and closer to +one another. To keep one another back, to breathe in that stifling +atmosphere, to be unable to stir, and to await something unknown, +uncomprehended, and terrible, was becoming unbearable. Those +standing in front, who had seen and heard what had taken place +before them, all stood with wide open eyes and mouths, straining +with all their strength, and held back the crowd that was pushing +behind them. + +"Beat him!... Let the traitor perish and not disgrace the Russian +name!" shouted Rostopchin. "Cut him down. I command it." + +Hearing not so much the words as the angry tone of Rostopchin's +voice, the crowd moaned and heaved forward, but again paused. + +"Count!" exclaimed the timid yet theatrical voice of Vereshchagin in +the midst of the momentary silence that ensued, "Count! One God is +above us both...." He lifted his head and again the thick vein in +his thin neck filled with blood and the color rapidly came and went in +his face. + +He did not finish what he wished to say. + +"Cut him down! I command it..." shouted Rostopchin, suddenly growing +pale like Vereshchagin. + +"Draw sabers!" cried the dragoon officer, drawing his own. + +Another still stronger wave flowed through the crowd and reaching +the front ranks carried it swaying to the very steps of the porch. The +tall youth, with a stony look on his face, and rigid and uplifted arm, +stood beside Vereshchagin. + +"Saber him!" the dragoon officer almost whispered. + +And one of the soldiers, his face all at once distorted with fury, +struck Vereshchagin on the head with the blunt side of his saber. + +"Ah!" cried Vereshchagin in meek surprise, looking round with a +frightened glance as if not understanding why this was done to him. +A similar moan of surprise and horror ran through the crowd. "O Lord!" +exclaimed a sorrowful voice. + +But after the exclamation of surprise that had escaped from +Vereshchagin he uttered a plaintive cry of pain, and that cry was +fatal. The barrier of human feeling, strained to the utmost, that +had held the crowd in check suddenly broke. The crime had begun and +must now be completed. The plaintive moan of reproach was drowned by +the threatening and angry roar of the crowd. Like the seventh and last +wave that shatters a ship, that last irresistible wave burst from +the rear and reached the front ranks, carrying them off their feet and +engulfing them all. The dragoon was about to repeat his blow. +Vereshchagin with a cry of horror, covering his head with his hands, +rushed toward the crowd. The tall youth, against whom he stumbled, +seized his thin neck with his hands and, yelling wildly, fell with him +under the feet of the pressing, struggling crowd. + +Some beat and tore at Vereshchagin, others at the tall youth. And +the screams of those that were being trampled on and of those who +tried to rescue the tall lad only increased the fury of the crowd. +It was a long time before the dragoons could extricate the bleeding +youth, beaten almost to death. And for a long time, despite the +feverish haste with which the mob tried to end the work that had +been begun, those who were hitting, throttling, and tearing at +Vereshchagin were unable to kill him, for the crowd pressed from all +sides, swaying as one mass with them in the center and rendering it +impossible for them either to kill him or let him go. + +"Hit him with an ax, eh!... Crushed?... Traitor, he sold +Christ.... Still alive... tenacious... serves him right! Torture +serves a thief right. Use the hatchet!... What- still alive?" + +Only when the victim ceased to struggle and his cries changed to a +long-drawn, measured death rattle did the crowd around his +prostrate, bleeding corpse begin rapidly to change places. Each one +came up, glanced at what had been done, and with horror, reproach, and +astonishment pushed back again. + +"O Lord! The people are like wild beasts! How could he be alive?" +voices in the crowd could be heard saying. "Quite a young fellow +too... must have been a merchant's son. What men!... and they say he's +not the right one.... How not the right one?... O Lord! And there's +another has been beaten too- they say he's nearly done for.... Oh, the +people... Aren't they afraid of sinning?..." said the same mob now, +looking with pained distress at the dead body with its long, thin, +half-severed neck and its livid face stained with blood and dust. + +A painstaking police officer, considering the presence of a corpse +in his excellency's courtyard unseemly, told the dragoons to take it +away. Two dragoons took it by its distorted legs and dragged it +along the ground. The gory, dust-stained, half-shaven head with its +long neck trailed twisting along the ground. The crowd shrank back +from it. + +At the moment when Vereshchagin fell and the crowd closed in with +savage yells and swayed about him, Rostopchin suddenly turned pale +and, instead of going to the back entrance where his carriage +awaited him, went with hurried steps and bent head, not knowing +where and why, along the passage leading to the rooms on the ground +floor. The count's face was white and he could not control the +feverish twitching of his lower jaw. + +"This way, your excellency... Where are you going?... This way, +please..." said a trembling, frightened voice behind him. + +Count Rostopchin was unable to reply and, turning obediently, went +in the direction indicated. At the back entrance stood his caleche. +The distant roar of the yelling crowd was audible even there. He +hastily took his seat and told the coachman to drive him to his +country house in Sokolniki. + +When they reached the Myasnitski Street and could no longer hear the +shouts of the mob, the count began to repent. He remembered with +dissatisfaction the agitation and fear he had betrayed before his +subordinates. "The mob is terrible- disgusting," he said to himself in +French. "They are like wolves whom nothing but flesh can appease." +"Count! One God is above us both!"- Vereshchagin's words suddenly +recurred to him, and a disagreeable shiver ran down his back. But this +was only a momentary feeling and Count Rostopchin smiled +disdainfully at himself. "I had other duties," thought he. "The people +had to be appeased. Many other victims have perished and are perishing +for the public good"- and he began thinking of his social duties to +his family and to the city entrusted to him, and of himself- not +himself as Theodore Vasilyevich Rostopchin (he fancied that Theodore +Vasilyevich Rostopchin was sacrificing himself for the public good) +but himself as governor, the representative of authority and of the +Tsar. "Had I been simply Theodore Vasilyevich my course of action +would have been quite different, but it was my duty to safeguard my +life and dignity as commander in chief." + +Lightly swaying on the flexible springs of his carriage and no +longer hearing the terrible sounds of the crowd, Rostopchin grew +physically calm and, as always happens, as soon as he became +physically tranquil his mind devised reasons why he should be mentally +tranquil too. The thought which tranquillized Rostopchin was not a new +one. Since the world began and men have killed one another no one +has ever committed such a crime against his fellow man without +comforting himself with this same idea. This idea is le bien public, +the hypothetical welfare of other people. + +To a man not swayed by passion that welfare is never certain, but he +who commits such a crime always knows just where that welfare lies. +And Rostopchin now knew it. + +Not only did his reason not reproach him for what he had done, but +he even found cause for self-satisfaction in having so successfully +contrived to avail himself of a convenient opportunity to punish a +criminal and at the same time pacify the mob. + +"Vereshchagin was tried and condemned to death," thought +Rostopchin (though the Senate had only condemned Vereshchagin to +hard labor), "he was a traitor and a spy. I could not let him go +unpunished and so I have killed two birds with one stone: to appease +the mob I gave them a victim and at the same time punished a +miscreant." + +Having reached his country house and begun to give orders about +domestic arrangements, the count grew quite tranquil. + +Half an hour later he was driving with his fast horses across the +Sokolniki field, no longer thinking of what had occurred but +considering what was to come. He was driving to the Yauza bridge where +he had heard that Kutuzov was. Count Rostopchin was mentally preparing +the angry and stinging reproaches he meant to address to Kutuzov for +his deception. He would make that foxy old courtier feel that the +responsibility for all the calamities that would follow the +abandonment of the city and the ruin of Russia (as Rostopchin regarded +it) would fall upon his doting old head. Planning beforehand what he +would say to Kutuzov, Rostopchin turned angrily in his caleche and +gazed sternly from side to side. + +The Sokolniki field was deserted. Only at the end of it, in front of +the almshouse and the lunatic asylum, could be seen some people in +white and others like them walking singly across the field shouting +and gesticulating. + +One of these was running to cross the path of Count Rostopchin's +carriage, and the count himself, his coachman, and his dragoons looked +with vague horror and curiosity at these released lunatics and +especially at the one running toward them. + +Swaying from side to side on his long, thin legs in his fluttering +dressing gown, this lunatic was running impetuously, his gaze fixed on +Rostopchin, shouting something in a hoarse voice and making signs to +him to stop. The lunatic's solemn, gloomy face was thin and yellow, +with its beard growing in uneven tufts. His black, agate pupils with +saffron-yellow whites moved restlessly near the lower eyelids. + +"Stop! Pull up, I tell you!" he cried in a piercing voice, and again +shouted something breathlessly with emphatic intonations and gestures. + +Coming abreast of the caleche he ran beside it. + +"Thrice have they slain me, thrice have I risen from the dead. +They stoned me, crucified me... I shall rise... shall rise... shall +rise. They have torn my body. The kingdom of God will be overthrown... +Thrice will I overthrow it and thrice re-establish it!" he cried, +raising his voice higher and higher. + +Count Rostopchin suddenly grew pale as he had done when the crowd +closed in on Vereshchagin. He turned away. "Go fas... faster!" he +cried in a trembling voice to his coachman. The caleche flew over +the ground as fast as the horses could draw it, but for a long time +Count Rostopchin still heard the insane despairing screams growing +fainter in the distance, while his eyes saw nothing but the +astonished, frightened, bloodstained face of "the traitor" in the +fur-lined coat. + +Recent as that mental picture was, Rostopchin already felt that it +had cut deep into his heart and drawn blood. Even now he felt +clearly that the gory trace of that recollection would not pass with +time, but that the terrible memory would, on the contrary, dwell in +his heart ever more cruelly and painfully to the end of his life. He +seemed still to hear the sound of his own words: "Cut him down! I +command it...." + +"Why did I utter those words? It was by some accident I said +them.... I need not have said them," he thought. "And then nothing +would have happened." He saw the frightened and then infuriated face +of the dragoon who dealt the blow, the look of silent, timid +reproach that boy in the fur-lined coat had turned upon him. "But I +did not do it for my own sake. I was bound to act that way.... The +mob, the traitor... the public welfare," thought he. + +Troops were still crowding at the Yauza bridge. It was hot. Kutuzov, +dejected and frowning, sat on a bench by the bridge toying with his +whip in the sand when a caleche dashed up noisily. A man in a +general's uniform with plumes in his hat went up to Kutuzov and said +something in French. It was Count Rostopchin. He told Kutuzov that +he had come because Moscow, the capital, was no more and only the army +remained. + +"Things would have been different if your Serene Highness had not +told me that you would not abandon Moscow without another battle; +all this would not have happened," he said. + +Kutuzov looked at Rostopchin as if, not grasping what was said to +him, he was trying to read something peculiar written at that moment +on the face of the man addressing him. Rostopchin grew confused and +became silent. Kutuzov slightly shook his head and not taking his +penetrating gaze from Rostopchin's face muttered softly: + +"No! I shall not give up Moscow without a battle!" + +Whether Kutuzov was thinking of something entirely different when he +spoke those words, or uttered them purposely, knowing them to be +meaningless, at any rate Rostopchin made no reply and hastily left +him. And strange to say, the Governor of Moscow, the proud Count +Rostopchin, took up a Cossack whip and went to the bridge where he +began with shouts to drive on the carts that blocked the way. + +CHAPTER XXVI + +Toward four o'clock in the afternoon Murat's troops were entering +Moscow. In front rode a detachment of Wurttemberg hussars and behind +them rode the King of Naples himself accompanied by a numerous suite. + +About the middle of the Arbat Street, near the Church of the +Miraculous Icon of St. Nicholas, Murat halted to await news from the +advanced detachment as to the condition in which they had found the +citadel, le Kremlin. + +Around Murat gathered a group of those who had remained in Moscow. +They all stared in timid bewilderment at the strange, long-haired +commander dressed up in feathers and gold. + +"Is that their Tsar himself? He's not bad!" low voices could be +heard saying. + +An interpreter rode up to the group. + +"Take off your cap... your caps!" These words went from one to +another in the crowd. The interpreter addressed an old porter and +asked if it was far to the Kremlin. The porter, listening in +perplexity to the unfamiliar Polish accent and not realizing that +the interpreter was speaking Russian, did not understand what was +being said to him and slipped behind the others. + +Murat approached the interpreter and told him to ask where the +Russian army was. One of the Russians understood what was asked and +several voices at once began answering the interpreter. A French +officer, returning from the advanced detachment, rode up to Murat +and reported that the gates of the citadel had been barricaded and +that there was probably an ambuscade there. + +"Good!" said Murat and, turning to one of the gentlemen in his +suite, ordered four light guns to be moved forward to fire at the +gates. + +The guns emerged at a trot from the column following Murat and +advanced up the Arbat. When they reached the end of the Vozdvizhenka +Street they halted and drew in the Square. Several French officers +superintended the placing of the guns and looked at the Kremlin +through field glasses. + +The bells in the Kremlin were ringing for vespers, and this sound +troubled the French. They imagined it to be a call to arms. A few +infantrymen ran to the Kutafyev Gate. Beams and wooden screens had +been put there, and two musket shots rang out from under the gate as +soon as an officer and men began to run toward it. A general who was +standing by the guns shouted some words of command to the officer, and +the latter ran back again with his men. + +The sound of three more shots came from the gate. + +One shot struck a French soldier's foot, and from behind the screens +came the strange sound of a few voices shouting. Instantly as at a +word of command the expression of cheerful serenity on the faces of +the French general, officers, and men changed to one of determined +concentrated readiness for strife and suffering. To all of them from +the marshal to the least soldier, that place was not the Vozdvizhenka, +Mokhavaya, or Kutafyev Street, nor the Troitsa Gate (places familiar +in Moscow), but a new battlefield which would probably prove +sanguinary. And all made ready for that battle. The cries from the +gates ceased. The guns were advanced, the artillerymen blew the ash +off their linstocks, and an officer gave the word "Fire!" This was +followed by two whistling sounds of canister shot, one after +another. The shot rattled against the stone of the gate and upon the +wooden beams and screens, and two wavering clouds of smoke rose over +the Square. + +A few instants after the echo of the reports resounding over the +stone-built Kremlin had died away the French heard a strange sound +above their head. Thousands of crows rose above the walls and +circled in the air, cawing and noisily flapping their wings. +Together with that sound came a solitary human cry from the gateway +and amid the smoke appeared the figure of a bareheaded man in a +peasant's coat. He grasped a musket and took aim at the French. +"Fire!" repeated the officer once more, and the reports of a musket +and of two cannon shots were heard simultaneously. The gate again +hidden by smoke. + +Nothing more stirred behind the screens and the French infantry +soldiers and officers advanced to the gate. In the gateway lay three +wounded and four dead. Two men in peasant coats ran away at the foot +of the wall, toward the Znamenka. + +"Clear that away!" said the officer, pointing to the beams and the +corpses, and the French soldiers, after dispatching the wounded, threw +the corpses over the parapet. + +Who these men were nobody knew. "Clear that away!" was all that +was said of them, and they were thrown over the parapet and removed +later on that they might not stink. Thiers alone dedicates a few +eloquent lines to their memory: "These wretches had occupied the +sacred citadel, having supplied themselves with guns from the arsenal, +and fired" (the wretches) "at the French. Some of them were sabered +and the Kremlin was purged of their presence." + +Murat was informed that the way had been cleared. The French entered +the gates and began pitching their camp in the Senate Square. Out of +the windows of the Senate House the soldiers threw chairs into the +Square for fuel and kindled fires there. + +Other detachments passed through the Kremlin and encamped along +the Moroseyka, the Lubyanka, and Pokrovka Streets. Others quartered +themselves along the Vozdvizhenka, the Nikolski, and the Tverskoy +Streets. No masters of the houses being found anywhere, the French +were not billeted on the inhabitants as is usual in towns but lived in +it as in a camp. + +Though tattered, hungry, worn out, and reduced to a third of their +original number, the French entered Moscow in good marching order. +It was a weary and famished, but still a fighting and menacing army. +But it remained an army only until its soldiers had dispersed into +their different lodgings. As soon as the men of the various +regiments began to disperse among the wealthy and deserted houses, the +army was lost forever and there came into being something nondescript, +neither citizens nor soldiers but what are known as marauders. When +five weeks later these same men left Moscow, they no longer formed +an army. They were a mob of marauders, each carrying a quantity of +articles which seemed to him valuable or useful. The aim of each man +when he left Moscow was no longer, as it had been, to conquer, but +merely to keep what he had acquired. Like a monkey which puts its +paw into the narrow neck of a jug, and having seized a handful of nuts +will not open its fist for fear of losing what it holds, and therefore +perishes, the French when they left Moscow had inevitably to perish +because they carried their loot with them, yet to abandon what they +had stolen was as impossible for them as it is for the monkey to +open its paw and let go of its nuts. Ten minutes after each regiment +had entered a Moscow district, not a soldier or officer was left. +Men in military uniforms and Hessian boots could be seen through the +windows, laughing and walking through the rooms. In cellars and +storerooms similar men were busy among the provisions, and in the +yards unlocking or breaking open coach house and stable doors, +lighting fires in kitchens and kneading and baking bread with +rolled-up sleeves, and cooking; or frightening, amusing, or +caressing women and children. There were many such men both in the +shops and houses- but there was no army. + +Order after order was issued by the French commanders that day +forbidding the men to disperse about the town, sternly forbidding +any violence to the inhabitants or any looting, and announcing a +roll call for that very evening. But despite all these measures the +men, who had till then constituted an army, flowed all over the +wealthy, deserted city with its comforts and plentiful supplies. As +a hungry herd of cattle keeps well together when crossing a barren +field, but gets out of hand and at once disperses uncontrollably as +soon as it reaches rich pastures, so did the army disperse all over +the wealthy city. + +No residents were left in Moscow, and the soldiers- like water +percolating through sand- spread irresistibly through the city in +all directions from the Kremlin into which they had first marched. The +cavalry, on entering a merchant's house that had been abandoned and +finding there stabling more than sufficient for their horses, went on, +all the same, to the next house which seemed to them better. Many of +them appropriated several houses, chalked their names on them, and +quarreled and even fought with other companies for them. Before they +had had time to secure quarters the soldiers ran out into the +streets to see the city and, hearing that everything had been +abandoned, rushed to places where valuables were to be had for the +taking. The officers followed to check the soldiers and were +involuntarily drawn into doing the same. In Carriage Row carriages had +been left in the shops, and generals flocked there to select +caleches and coaches for themselves. The few inhabitants who had +remained invited commanding officers to their houses, hoping thereby +to secure themselves from being plundered. There were masses of wealth +and there seemed no end to it. All around the quarters occupied by the +French were other regions still unexplored and unoccupied where, +they thought, yet greater riches might be found. And Moscow engulfed +the army ever deeper and deeper. When water is spilled on dry ground +both the dry ground and the water disappear and mud results; and in +the same way the entry of the famished army into the rich and deserted +city resulted in fires and looting and the destruction of both the +army and the wealthy city. + +The French attributed the Fire of Moscow au patriotisme feroce de +Rostopchine,~^ the Russians to the barbarity of the French. In reality, +however, it was not, and could not be, possible to explain the burning +of Moscow by making any individual, or any group of people, +responsible for it. Moscow was burned because it found itself in a +position in which any town built of wood was bound to burn, quite +apart from whether it had, or had not, a hundred and thirty inferior +fire engines. Deserted Moscow had to burn as inevitably as a heap of +shavings has to burn on which sparks continually fall for several +days. A town built of wood, where scarcely a day passes without +conflagrations when the house owners are in residence and a police +force is present, cannot help burning when its inhabitants have left +it and it is occupied by soldiers who smoke pipes, make campfires of +the Senate chairs in the Senate Square, and cook themselves meals +twice a day. In peacetime it is only necessary to billet troops in the +villages of any district and the number of fires in that district +immediately increases. How much then must the probability of fire be +increased in an abandoned, wooden town where foreign troops are +quartered. "Le patriotisme feroce de Rostopchine" and the barbarity of +the French were not to blame in the matter. Moscow was set on fire +by the soldiers' pipes, kitchens, and campfires, and by the +carelessness of enemy soldiers occupying houses they did not own. Even +if there was any arson (which is very doubtful, for no one had any +reason to burn the houses- in any case a troublesome and dangerous +thing to do), arson cannot be regarded as the cause, for the same +thing would have happened without any incendiarism. + +^~ To Rostopchin's ferocious patriotism. + +However tempting it might be for the French to blame Rostopchin's +ferocity and for Russians to blame the scoundrel Bonaparte, or later +on to place an heroic torch in the hands of their own people, it is +impossible not to see that there could be no such direct cause of +the fire, for Moscow had to burn as every village, factory, or house +must burn which is left by its owners and in which strangers are +allowed to live and cook their porridge. Moscow was burned by its +inhabitants, it is true, but by those who had abandoned it and not +by those who remained in it. Moscow when occupied by the enemy did not +remain intact like Berlin, Vienna, and other towns, simply because its +inhabitants abandoned it and did not welcome the French with bread and +salt, nor bring them the keys of the city. + +CHAPTER XXVII + +The absorption of the French by Moscow, radiating starwise as it +did, only reached the quarter where Pierre was staying by the +evening of the second of September. + +After the last two days spent in solitude and unusual circumstances, +Pierre was in a state bordering on insanity. He was completely +obsessed by one persistent thought. He did not know how or when this +thought had taken such possession of him, but he remembered nothing of +the past, understood nothing of the present, and all he saw and +heard appeared to him like a dream. + +He had left home only to escape the intricate tangle of life's +demands that enmeshed him, and which in his present condition he was +unable to unravel. He had gone to Joseph Alexeevich's house, on the +plea of sorting the deceased's books and papers, only in search of +rest from life's turmoil, for in his mind the memory of Joseph +Alexeevich was connected with a world of eternal, solemn, and calm +thoughts, quite contrary to the restless confusion into which he +felt himself being drawn. He sought a quiet refuge, and in Joseph +Alexeevich's study he really found it. When he sat with his elbows +on the dusty writing table in the deathlike stillness of the study, +calm and significant memories of the last few days rose one after +another in his imagination, particularly of the battle of Borodino and +of that vague sense of his own insignificance and insincerity compared +with the truth, simplicity, and strength of the class of men he +mentally classed as they. When Gerasim roused him from his reverie the +idea occurred to him of taking part in the popular defense of Moscow +which he knew was projected. And with that object he had asked Gerasim +to get him a peasant's coat and a pistol, confiding to him his +intentions of remaining in Joseph Alexeevich's house and keeping his +name secret. Then during the first day spent in inaction and +solitude (he tried several times to fix his attention on the Masonic +manuscripts, but was unable to do so) the idea that had previously +occurred to him of the cabalistic significance of his name in +connection with Bonaparte's more than once vaguely presented itself. +But the idea that he, L'russe Besuhof, was destined to set a limit +to the power of the Beast was as yet only one of the fancies that +often passed through his mind and left no trace behind. + +When, having bought the coat merely with the object of taking part +among the people in the defense of Moscow, Pierre had met the +Rostovs and Natasha had said to him: "Are you remaining in +Moscow?... How splendid!" the thought flashed into his mind that it +really would be a good thing, even if Moscow were taken, for him to +remain there and do what he was predestined to do. + +Next day, with the sole idea of not sparing himself and not +lagging in any way behind them, Pierre went to the Three Hills gate. +But when he returned to the house convinced that Moscow would not be +defended, he suddenly felt that what before had seemed to him merely a +possibility had now become absolutely necessary and inevitable. He +must remain in Moscow, concealing his name, and must meet Napoleon and +kill him, and either perish or put an end to the misery of all Europe- +which it seemed to him was solely due to Napoleon. + +Pierre knew all the details of the attempt on Bonaparte's life in +1809 by a German student in Vienna, and knew that the student had been +shot. And the risk to which he would expose his life by carrying out +his design excited him still more. + +Two equally strong feelings drew Pierre irresistibly to this +purpose. The first was a feeling of the necessity of sacrifice and +suffering in view of the common calamity, the same feeling that had + +caused him to go to Mozhaysk on the twenty-fifth and to make his way +to the very thick of the battle and had now caused him to run away +from his home and, in place of the luxury and comfort to which he +was accustomed, to sleep on a hard sofa without undressing and eat the +same food as Gerasim. The other was that vague and quite Russian +feeling of contempt for everything conventional, artificial, and +human- for everything the majority of men regard as the greatest +good in the world. Pierre had first experienced this strange and +fascinating feeling at the Sloboda Palace, when he had suddenly felt +that wealth, power, and life- all that men so painstakingly acquire +and guard- if it has any worth has so only by reason the joy with +which it can all be renounced. + +It was the feeling that induces a volunteer recruit to spend his +last penny on drink, and a drunken man to smash mirrors or glasses for +no apparent reason and knowing that it will cost him all the money +he possesses: the feeling which causes a man to perform actions +which from an ordinary point of view are insane, to test, as it +were, his personal power and strength, affirming the existence of a +higher, nonhuman criterion of life. + +From the very day Pierre had experienced this feeling for the +first time at the Sloboda Palace he had been continuously under its +influence, but only now found full satisfaction for it. Moreover, at +this moment Pierre was supported in his design and prevented from +renouncing it by what he had already done in that direction. If he +were now to leave Moscow like everyone else, his flight from home, the +peasant coat, the pistol, and his announcement to the Rostovs that +he would remain in Moscow would all become not merely meaningless +but contemptible and ridiculous, and to this Pierre was very +sensitive. + +Pierre's physical condition, as is always the case, corresponded +to his mental state. The unaccustomed coarse food, the vodka he +drank during those days, the absence of wine and cigars, his dirty +unchanged linen, two almost sleepless nights passed on a short sofa +without bedding- all this kept him in a state of excitement +bordering on insanity. + +It was two o'clock in the afternoon. The French had already +entered Moscow. Pierre knew this, but instead of acting he only +thought about his undertaking, going over its minutest details in +his mind. In his fancy he did not clearly picture to himself either +the striking of the blow or the death of Napoleon, but with +extraordinary vividness and melancholy enjoyment imagined his own +destruction and heroic endurance. + +"Yes, alone, for the sake of all, I must do it or perish!" he +thought. "Yes, I will approach... and then suddenly... with pistol +or dagger? But that is all the same! 'It is not I but the hand of +Providence that punishes thee,' I shall say," thought he, imagining +what he would say when killing Napoleon. "Well then, take me and +execute me!" he went on, speaking to himself and bowing his head +with a sad but firm expression. + +While Pierre, standing in the middle of the room, was talking to +himself in this way, the study door opened and on the threshold +appeared the figure of Makar Alexeevich, always so timid before but +now quite transformed. + +His dressing gown was unfastened, his face red and distorted. He was +obviously drunk. On seeing Pierre he grew confused at first, but +noticing embarrassment on Pierre's face immediately grew bold and, +staggering on his thin legs, advanced into the middle of the room. + +"They're frightened," he said confidentially in a hoarse voice. "I +say I won't surrender, I say... Am I not right, sir?" + +He paused and then suddenly seeing the pistol on the table seized it +with unexpected rapidity and ran out into the corridor. + +Gerasim and the porter, who had followed Makar Alexeevich, stopped +him in the vestibule and tried to take the pistol from him. Pierre, +coming out into the corridor, looked with pity and repulsion at the +half-crazy old man. Makar Alexeevich, frowning with exertion, held +on to the pistol and screamed hoarsely, evidently with some heroic +fancy in his head. + +"To arms! Board them! No, you shan't get it," he yelled. + +"That will do, please, that will do. Have the goodness- please, sir, +to let go! Please, sir..." pleaded Gerasim, trying carefully to +steer Makar Alexeevich by the elbows back to the door. + +"Who are you? Bonaparte!..." shouted Makar Alexeevich. + +"That's not right, sir. Come to your room, please, and rest. Allow +me to have the pistol." + +"Be off, thou base slave! Touch me not! See this?" shouted Makar +Alexeevich, brandishing the pistol. "Board them!" + +"Catch hold!" whispered Gerasim to the porter. + +They seized Makar Alexeevich by the arms and dragged him to the +door. + +The vestibule was filled with the discordant sounds of a struggle +and of a tipsy, hoarse voice. + +Suddenly a fresh sound, a piercing feminine scream, reverberated +from the porch and the cook came running into the vestibule. + +"It's them! Gracious heavens! O Lord, four of them, horsemen!" she +cried. + +Gerasim and the porter let Makar Alexeevich go, and in the now +silent corridor the sound of several hands knocking at the front +door could be heard. + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +Pierre, having decided that until he had carried out his design he +would disclose neither his identity nor his knowledge of French, stood +at the half-open door of the corridor, intending to conceal himself as +soon as the French entered. But the French entered and still Pierre +did not retire- an irresistible curiosity kept him there. + +There were two of them. One was an officer- a tall, soldierly, +handsome man- the other evidently a private or an orderly, +sunburned, short, and thin, with sunken cheeks and a dull +expression. The officer walked in front, leaning on a stick and +slightly limping. When he had advanced a few steps he stopped, +having apparently decided that these were good quarters, turned +round to the soldiers standing at the entrance, and in a loud voice of +command ordered them to put up the horses. Having done that, the +officer, lifting his elbow with a smart gesture, stroked his +mustache and lightly touched his hat. + +"Bonjour, la compagnie!"~^ said he gaily, smiling and looking about +him. + +^~ "Good day, everybody!" + +No one gave any reply. + +"Vous etes le bourgeois?"~^ the officer asked Gerasim. + +^~ "Are you the master here?" + +Gerasim gazed at the officer with an alarmed and inquiring look. + +"Quartier, quartier, logement!" said the officer, looking down at +the little man with a condescending and good-natured smile. "Les +francais sont de bons enfants. Que diable! Voyons! Ne nous fachons +pas, mon vieux!"~^ added he, clapping the scared and silent Gerasim +on the shoulder. "Well, does no one speak French in this +establishment?" he asked again in French, looking around and meeting +Pierre's eyes. Pierre moved away from the door. + +^~ "Quarters, quarters, lodgings! The French are good fellows. What +the devil! There, don't let us be cross, old fellow!" + +Again the officer turned to Gerasim and asked him to show him the +rooms in the house. + +"Master, not here- don't understand... me, you..." said Gerasim, +trying to render his words more comprehensible by contorting them. + +Still smiling, the French officer spread out his hands before +Gerasim's nose, intimating that he did not understand him either, +and moved, limping, to the door at which Pierre was standing. Pierre +wished to go away and conceal himself, but at that moment he saw Makar +Alexeevich appearing at the open kitchen door with the pistol in his +hand. With a madman's cunning, Makar Alexeevich eyed the Frenchman, +raised his pistol, and took aim. + +"Board them!" yelled the tipsy man, trying to press the trigger. +Hearing the yell the officer turned round, and at the same moment +Pierre threw himself on the drunkard. Just when Pierre snatched at and +struck up the pistol Makar Alexeevich at last got his fingers on the +trigger, there was a deafening report, and all were enveloped in a +cloud of smoke. The Frenchman turned pale and rushed to the door. + +Forgetting his intention of concealing his knowledge of French, +Pierre, snatching away the pistol and throwing it down, ran up to +the officer and addressed him in French. + +"You are not wounded?" he asked. + +"I think not," answered the Frenchman, feeling himself over. "But +I have had a lucky escape this time," he added, pointing to the +damaged plaster of the wall. "Who is that man?" said he, looking +sternly at Pierre. + +"Oh, I am really in despair at what has occurred," said Pierre +rapidly, quite forgetting the part he had intended to play. "He is +an unfortunate madman who did not know what he was doing." + +The officer went up to Makar Alexeevich and took him by the collar. + +Makar Alexeevich was standing with parted lips, swaying, as if about +to fall asleep, as he leaned against the wall. + +"Brigand! You shall pay for this," said the Frenchman, letting go of +him. "We French are merciful after victory, but we do not pardon +traitors," he added, with a look of gloomy dignity and a fine +energetic gesture. + +Pierre continued, in French, to persuade the officer not to hold +that drunken imbecile to account. The Frenchman listened in silence +with the same gloomy expression, but suddenly turned to Pierre with +a smile. For a few seconds he looked at him in silence. His handsome +face assumed a melodramatically gentle expression and he held out +his hand. + +"You have saved my life. You are French," said he. + +For a Frenchman that deduction was indubitable. Only a Frenchman +could perform a great deed, and to save his life- the life of M. +Ramballe, captain of the 13th Light Regiment- was undoubtedly a very +great deed. + +But however indubitable that conclusion and the officer's conviction +based upon it, Pierre felt it necessary to disillusion him. + +"I am Russian," he said quickly. + +"Tut, tut, tut! Tell that to others," said the officer, waving his +finger before his nose and smiling. "You shall tell me all about +that presently. I am delighted to meet a compatriot. Well, and what +are we to do with this man?" he added, addressing himself to Pierre as +to a brother. + +Even if Pierre were not a Frenchman, having once received that +loftiest of human appellations he could not renounce it, said the +officer's look and tone. In reply to his last question Pierre again +explained who Makar Alexeevich was and how just before their arrival +that drunken imbecile had seized the loaded pistol which they had +not had time to recover from him, and begged the officer to let the +deed go unpunished. + +The Frenchman expanded his chest and made a majestic gesture with +his arm. + +"You have saved my life! You are French. You ask his pardon? I grant +it you. Lead that man away!" said he quickly and energetically, and +taking the arm of Pierre whom he had promoted to be a Frenchman for +saving his life, he went with him into the room. + +The soldiers in the yard, hearing the shot, came into the passage +asking what had happened, and expressed their readiness to punish +the culprits, but the officer sternly checked them. + +"You will be called in when you are wanted," he said. + +The soldiers went out again, and the orderly, who had meanwhile +had time to visit the kitchen, came up to his officer. + +"Captain, there is soup and a leg of mutton in the kitchen," said +he. "Shall I serve them up?" + +"Yes, and some wine," answered the captain. + +CHAPTER XXIX + +When the French officer went into the room with Pierre the latter +again thought it his duty to assure him that he was not French and +wished to go away, but the officer would not hear of it. He was so +very polite, amiable, good-natured, and genuinely grateful to Pierre +for saving his life that Pierre had not the heart to refuse, and sat +down with him in the parlor- the first room they entered. To +Pierre's assurances that he was not a Frenchman, the captain, +evidently not understanding how anyone could decline so flattering +an appellation, shrugged his shoulders and said that if Pierre +absolutely insisted on passing for a Russian let it be so, but for all +that he would be forever bound to Pierre by gratitude for saving his +life. + +Had this man been endowed with the slightest capacity for perceiving +the feelings of others, and had he at all understood what Pierre's +feelings were, the latter would probably have left him, but the +man's animated obtuseness to everything other than himself disarmed +Pierre. + +"A Frenchman or a Russian prince incognito," said the officer, +looking at Pierre's fine though dirty linen and at the ring on his +finger. "I owe my life to you and offer you my friendship. A Frenchman +never forgets either an insult or a service. I offer you my +friendship. That is all I can say." + +There was so much good nature and nobility (in the French sense of +the word) in the officer's voice, in the expression of his face and in +his gestures, that Pierre, unconsciously smiling in response to the +Frenchman's smile, pressed the hand held out to him. + +"Captain Ramballe, of the 13th Light Regiment, Chevalier of the +Legion of Honor for the affair on the seventh of September," he +introduced himself, a self-satisfied irrepressible smile puckering his +lips under his mustache. "Will you now be so good as to tell me with +whom I have the honor of conversing so pleasantly, instead of being in +the ambulance with that maniac's bullet in my body?" + +Pierre replied that he could not tell him his name and, blushing, +began to try to invent a name and to say something about his reason +for concealing it, but the Frenchman hastily interrupted him. + +"Oh, please!" said he. "I understand your reasons. You are an +officer... a superior officer perhaps. You have borne arms against us. +That's not my business. I owe you my life. That is enough for me. I am +quite at your service. You belong to the gentry?" he concluded with +a shade of inquiry in his tone. Pierre bent his head. "Your +baptismal name, if you please. That is all I ask. Monsieur Pierre, you +say.... That's all I want to know." + +When the mutton and an omelet had been served and a samovar and +vodka brought, with some wine which the French had taken from a +Russian cellar and brought with them, Ramballe invited Pierre to share +his dinner, and himself began to eat greedily and quickly like a +healthy and hungry man, munching his food rapidly with his strong +teeth, continually smacking his lips, and repeating- "Excellent! +Delicious!" His face grew red and was covered with perspiration. +Pierre was hungry and shared the dinner with pleasure. Morel, the +orderly, brought some hot water in a saucepan and placed a bottle of +claret in it. He also brought a bottle of kvass, taken from the +kitchen for them to try. That beverage was already known to the French +and had been given a special name. They called it limonade de cochon +(pig's lemonade), and Morel spoke well of the limonade de cochon he +had found in the kitchen. But as the captain had the wine they had +taken while passing through Moscow, he left the kvass to Morel and +applied himself to the bottle of Bordeaux. He wrapped the bottle up to +its neck in a table napkin and poured out wine for himself and for +Pierre. The satisfaction of his hunger and the wine rendered the +captain still more lively and he chatted incessantly all through +dinner. + +"Yes, my dear Monsieur Pierre, I owe you a fine votive candle for +saving me from that maniac.... You see, I have bullets enough in my +body already. Here is one I got at Wagram" (he touched his side) +"and a second at Smolensk"- he showed a scar on his cheek- "and this +leg which as you see does not want to march, I got that on the seventh +at the great battle of la Moskowa. Sacre Dieu! It was splendid! That +deluge of fire was worth seeing. It was a tough job you set us +there, my word! You may be proud of it! And on my honor, in spite of +the cough I caught there, I should be ready to begin again. I pity +those who did not see it." + +"I was there," said Pierre. + +"Bah, really? So much the better! You are certainly brave foes. +The great redoubt held out well, by my pipe!" continued the Frenchman. +"And you made us pay dear for it. I was at it three times- sure as I +sit here. Three times we reached the guns and three times we were +thrown back like cardboard figures. Oh, it was beautiful, Monsieur +Pierre! Your grenadiers were splendid, by heaven! I saw them close +up their ranks six times in succession and march as if on parade. Fine +fellows! Our King of Naples, who knows what's what, cried 'Bravo!' Ha, +ha! So you are one of us soldiers!" he added, smiling, after a +momentary pause. "So much the better, so much the better, Monsieur +Pierre! Terrible in battle... gallant... with the fair" (he winked and +smiled), "that's what the French are, Monsieur Pierre, aren't they?" + +The captain was so naively and good-humoredly gay, so real, and so +pleased with himself that Pierre almost winked back as he looked +merrily at him. Probably the word "gallant" turned the captain's +thoughts to the state of Moscow. + +"Apropos, tell me please, is it true that the women have all left +Moscow? What a queer idea! What had they to be afraid of?" + +"Would not the French ladies leave Paris if the Russians entered +it?" asked Pierre. + +"Ha, ha, ha!" The Frenchman emitted a merry, sanguine chuckle, +patting Pierre on the shoulder. "What a thing to say!" he exclaimed. +"Paris?... But Paris, Paris..." + +"Paris- the capital of the world," Pierre finished his remark for +him. + +The captain looked at Pierre. He had a habit of stopping short in +the middle of his talk and gazing intently with his laughing, kindly +eyes. + +"Well, if you hadn't told me you were Russian, I should have wagered +that you were Parisian! You have that... I don't know what, that..." +and having uttered this compliment, he again gazed at him in silence. + +"I have been in Paris. I spent years there," said Pierre. + +"Oh yes, one sees that plainly. Paris!... A man who doesn't know +Paris is a savage. You can tell a Parisian two leagues off. Paris is +Talma, la Duchenois, Potier, the Sorbonne, the boulevards," and +noticing that his conclusion was weaker than what had gone before, +he added quickly: "There is only one Paris in the world. You have been +to Paris and have remained Russian. Well, I don't esteem you the +less for it." + +Under the influence of the wine he had drunk, and after the days +he had spent alone with his depressing thoughts, Pierre +involuntarily enjoyed talking with this cheerful and good-natured man. + +"To return to your ladies- I hear they are lovely. What a wretched +idea to go and bury themselves in the steppes when the French army +is in Moscow. What a chance those girls have missed! Your peasants, +now- that's another thing; but you civilized people, you ought to know +us better than that. We took Vienna, Berlin, Madrid, Naples, Rome, +Warsaw, all the world's capitals.... We are feared, but we are +loved. We are nice to know. And then the Emperor..." he began, but +Pierre interrupted him. + +"The Emperor," Pierre repeated, and his face suddenly became sad and +embarrassed, "is the Emperor...?" + +"The Emperor? He is generosity, mercy, justice, order, genius- +that's what the Emperor is! It is I, Ramballe, who tell you so.... I +assure you I was his enemy eight years ago. My father was an +emigrant count.... But that man has vanquished me. He has taken hold +of me. I could not resist the sight of the grandeur and glory with +which he has covered France. When I understood what he wanted- when +I saw that he was preparing a bed of laurels for us, you know, I +said to myself: 'That is a monarch,' and I devoted myself to him! So +there! Oh yes, mon cher, he is the greatest man of the ages past or +future." + +"Is he in Moscow?" Pierre stammered with a guilty look. + +The Frenchman looked at his guilty face and smiled. + +"No, he will make his entry tomorrow," he replied, and continued his +talk. + +Their conversation was interrupted by the cries of several voices at +the gate and by Morel, who came to say that some Wurttemberg hussars +had come and wanted to put up their horses in the yard where the +captain's horses were. This difficulty had arisen chiefly because +the hussars did not understand what was said to them in French. + +The captain had their senior sergeant called in, and in a stern +voice asked him to what regiment he belonged, who was his commanding +officer, and by what right he allowed himself to claim quarters that +were already occupied. The German who knew little French, answered the +two first questions by giving the names of his regiment and of his +commanding officer, but in reply to the third question which he did +not understand said, introducing broken French into his own German, +that he was the quartermaster of the regiment and his commander had +ordered him to occupy all the houses one after another. Pierre, who +knew German, translated what the German said to the captain and gave +the captain's reply to the Wurttemberg hussar in German. When he had +understood what was said to him, the German submitted and took his men +elsewhere. The captain went out into the porch and gave some orders in +a loud voice. + +When he returned to the room Pierre was sitting in the same place as +before, with his head in his hands. His face expressed suffering. He +really was suffering at that moment. When the captain went out and +he was left alone, suddenly he came to himself and realized the +position he was in. It was not that Moscow had been taken or that +the happy conquerors were masters in it and were patronizing him. +Painful as that was it was not that which tormented Pierre at the +moment. He was tormented by the consciousness of his own weakness. The +few glasses of wine he had drunk and the conversation with this +good-natured man had destroyed the mood of concentrated gloom in which +he had spent the last few days and which was essential for the +execution of his design. The pistol, dagger, and peasant coat were +ready. Napoleon was to enter the town next day. Pierre still +considered that it would be a useful and worthy action to slay the +evildoer, but now he felt that he would not do it. He did not know +why, but he felt a foreboding that he would not carry out his +intention. He struggled against the confession of his weakness but +dimly felt that he could not overcome it and that his former gloomy +frame of mind, concerning vengeance, killing, and self-sacrifice, +had been dispersed like dust by contact with the first man he met. + +The captain returned to the room, limping slightly and whistling a +tune. + +The Frenchman's chatter which had previously amused Pierre now +repelled him. The tune he was whistling, his gait, and the gesture +with which he twirled his mustache, all now seemed offensive. "I +will go away immediately. I won't say another word to him," thought +Pierre. He thought this, but still sat in the same place. A strange +feeling of weakness tied him to the spot; he wished to get up and go +away, but could not do so. + +The captain, on the other hand, seemed very cheerful. He paced up +and down the room twice. His eyes shone and his mustache twitched as +if he were smiling to himself at some amusing thought. + +"The colonel of those Wurttembergers is delightful," he suddenly +said. "He's a German, but a nice fellow all the same.... But he's a +German." He sat down facing Pierre. "By the way, you know German, +then?" + +Pierre looked at him in silence. + +"What is the German for 'shelter'?" + +"Shelter?" Pierre repeated. "The German for shelter is Unterkunft." + +"How do you say it?" the captain asked quickly and doubtfully. + +"Unterkunft," Pierre repeated. + +"Onterkoff," said the captain and looked at Pierre for some +seconds with laughing eyes. "These Germans are first-rate fools, don't +you think so, Monsieur Pierre?" he concluded. + +"Well, let's have another bottle of this Moscow Bordeaux, shall +we? Morel will warm us up another little bottle. Morel!" he called out +gaily. + +Morel brought candles and a bottle of wine. The captain looked at +Pierre by the candlelight and was evidently struck by the troubled +expression on his companion's face. Ramballe, with genuine distress +and sympathy in his face, went up to Pierre and bent over him. + +"There now, we're sad," said he, touching Pierre's hand. "Have I +upset you? No, really, have you anything against me?" he asked Pierre. +"Perhaps it's the state of affairs?" + +Pierre did not answer, but looked cordially into the Frenchman's +eyes whose expression of sympathy was pleasing to him. + +"Honestly, without speaking of what I owe you, I feel friendship for +you. Can I do anything for you? Dispose of me. It is for life and +death. I say it with my hand on my heart!" said he, striking his +chest. + +"Thank you," said Pierre. + +The captain gazed intently at him as he had done when he learned +that "shelter" was Unterkunft in German, and his face suddenly +brightened. + +"Well, in that case, I drink to our friendship!" he cried gaily, +filling two glasses with wine. + +Pierre took one of the glasses and emptied it. Ramballe emptied +his too, again pressed Pierre's hand, and leaned his elbows on the +table in a pensive attitude. + +"Yes, my dear friend," he began, "such is fortune's caprice. Who +would have said that I should be a soldier and a captain of dragoons +in the service of Bonaparte, as we used to call him? Yet here I am +in Moscow with him. I must tell you, mon cher," he continued in the +sad and measured tones of a man who intends to tell a long story, +"that our name is one of the most ancient in France." + +And with a Frenchman's easy and naive frankness the captain told +Pierre the story of his ancestors, his childhood, youth, and +manhood, and all about his relations and his financial and family +affairs, "ma pauvre mere" playing of course an important part in the +story. + +"But all that is only life's setting, the real thing is love- +love! Am I not right, Monsieur Pierre?" said he, growing animated. +"Another glass?" + +Pierre again emptied his glass and poured himself out a third. + +"Oh, women, women!" and the captain, looking with glistening eyes at +Pierre, began talking of love and of his love affairs. + +There were very many of these, as one could easily believe, +looking at the officer's handsome, self-satisfied face, and noting the +eager enthusiasm with which he spoke of women. Though all Ramballe's +love stories had the sensual character which Frenchmen regard as the +special charm and poetry of love, yet he told his story with such +sincere conviction that he alone had experienced and known all the +charm of love and he described women so alluringly that Pierre +listened to him with curiosity. + +It was plain that l'amour which the Frenchman was so fond of was not +that low and simple kind that Pierre had once felt for his wife, nor +was it the romantic love stimulated by himself that he experienced for +Natasha. (Ramballe despised both these kinds of love equally: the +one he considered the "love of clodhoppers" and the other the "love of +simpletons.") L'amour which the Frenchman worshiped consisted +principally in the unnaturalness of his relation to the woman and in a +combination of incongruities giving the chief charm to the feeling. + +Thus the captain touchingly recounted the story of his love for a +fascinating marquise of thirty-five and at the same time for a +charming, innocent child of seventeen, daughter of the bewitching +marquise. The conflict of magnanimity between the mother and the +daughter, ending in the mother's sacrificing herself and offering +her daughter in marriage to her lover, even now agitated the +captain, though it was the memory of a distant past. Then he recounted +an episode in which the husband played the part of the lover, and +he- the lover- assumed the role of the husband, as well as several +droll incidents from his recollections of Germany, where "shelter" +is called Unterkunft and where the husbands eat sauerkraut and the +young girls are "too blonde." + +Finally, the latest episode in Poland still fresh in the captain's +memory, and which he narrated with rapid gestures and glowing face, +was of how he had saved the life of a Pole (in general, the saving +of life continually occurred in the captain's stories) and the Pole +had entrusted to him his enchanting wife (parisienne de coeur) while +himself entering the French service. The captain was happy, the +enchanting Polish lady wished to elope with him, but, prompted by +magnanimity, the captain restored the wife to the husband, saying as +he did so: "I have saved your life, and I save your honor!" Having +repeated these words the captain wiped his eyes and gave himself a +shake, as if driving away the weakness which assailed him at this +touching recollection. + +Listening to the captain's tales, Pierre- as often happens late in +the evening and under the influence of wine- followed all that was +told him, understood it all, and at the same time followed a train +of personal memories which, he knew not why, suddenly arose in his +mind. While listening to these love stories his own love for Natasha +unexpectedly rose to his mind, and going over the pictures of that +love in his imagination he mentally compared them with Ramballe's +tales. Listening to the story of the struggle between love and duty, +Pierre saw before his eyes every minutest detail of his last meeting +with the object of his love at the Sukharev water tower. At the time +of that meeting it had not produced an effect upon him- he had not +even once recalled it. But now it seemed to him that that meeting +had had in it something very important and poetic. + +"Peter Kirilovich, come here! We have recognized you," he now seemed +to hear the words she had uttered and to see before him her eyes, +her smile, her traveling hood, and a stray lock of her hair... and +there seemed to him something pathetic and touching in all this. + +Having finished his tale about the enchanting Polish lady, the +captain asked Pierre if he had ever experienced a similar impulse to +sacrifice himself for love and a feeling of envy of the legitimate +husband. + +Challenged by this question Pierre raised his head and felt a need +to express the thoughts that filled his mind. He began to explain that +he understood love for a women somewhat differently. He said that in +all his life he had loved and still loved only one woman, and that she +could never be his. + +"Tiens!" said the captain. + +Pierre then explained that he had loved this woman from his earliest +years, but that he had not dared to think of her because she was too +young, and because he had been an illegitimate son without a name. +Afterwards when he had received a name and wealth he dared not think +of her because he loved her too well, placing her far above everything +in the world, and especially therefore above himself. + +When he had reached this point, Pierre asked the captain whether +he understood that. + +The captain made a gesture signifying that even if he did not +understand it he begged Pierre to continue. + +"Platonic love, clouds..." he muttered. + +Whether it was the wine he had drunk, or an impulse of frankness, or +the thought that this man did not, and never would, know any of +those who played a part in his story, or whether it was all these +things together, something loosened Pierre's tongue. Speaking +thickly and with a faraway look in his shining eyes, he told the whole +story of his life: his marriage, Natasha's love for his best friend, +her betrayal of him, and all his own simple relations with her. +Urged on by Ramballe's questions he also told what he had at first +concealed- his own position and even his name. + +More than anything else in Pierre's story the captain was +impressed by the fact that Pierre was very rich, had two mansions in +Moscow, and that he had abandoned everything and not left the city, +but remained there concealing his name and station. + +When it was late at night they went out together into the street. +The night was warm and light. To the left of the house on the Pokrovka +a fire glowed- the first of those that were beginning in Moscow. To +the right and high up in the sky was the sickle of the waning moon and +opposite to it hung that bright comet which was connected in +Pierre's heart with his love. At the gate stood Gerasim, the cook, and +two Frenchmen. Their laughter and their mutually incomprehensible +remarks in two languages could be heard. They were looking at the glow +seen in the town. + +There was nothing terrible in the one small, distant fire in the +immense city. + +Gazing at the high starry sky, at the moon, at the comet, and at the +glow from the fire, Pierre experienced a joyful emotion. "There now, +how good it is, what more does one need?" thought he. And suddenly +remembering his intention he grew dizzy and felt so faint that he +leaned against the fence to save himself from falling. + +Without taking leave of his new friend, Pierre left the gate with +unsteady steps and returning to his room lay down on the sofa and +immediately fell asleep. + +CHAPTER XXX + +The glow of the first fire that began on the second of September was +watched from the various roads by the fugitive Muscovites and by the +retreating troops, with many different feelings. + +The Rostov party spent the night at Mytishchi, fourteen miles from +Moscow. They had started so late on the first of September, the road +had been so blocked by vehicles and troops, so many things had been +forgotten for which servants were sent back, that they had decided +to spend that night at a place three miles out of Moscow. The next +morning they woke late and were again delayed so often that they +only got as far as Great Mytishchi. At ten o'clock that evening the +Rostov family and the wounded traveling with them were all distributed +in the yards and huts of that large village. The Rostovs' servants and +coachmen and the orderlies of the wounded officers, after attending to +their masters, had supper, fed the horses, and came out into the +porches. + +In a neighboring hut lay Raevski's adjutant with a fractured +wrist. The awful pain he suffered made him moan incessantly and +piteously, and his moaning sounded terrible in the darkness of the +autumn night. He had spent the first night in the same yard as the +Rostovs. The countess said she had been unable to close her eyes on +account of his moaning, and at Mytishchi she moved into a worse hut +simply to be farther away from the wounded man. + +In the darkness of the night one of the servants noticed, above +the high body of a coach standing before the porch, the small glow +of another fire. One glow had long been visible and everybody knew +that it was Little Mytishchi burning- set on fire by Mamonov's +Cossacks. + +"But look here, brothers, there's another fire!" remarked an +orderly. + +All turned their attention to the glow. + +"But they told us Little Mytishchi had been set on fire by Mamonov's +Cossacks." + +"But that's not Mytishchi, it's farther away." + +"Look, it must be in Moscow!" + +Two of the gazers went round to the other side of the coach and +sat down on its steps. + +"It's more to the left, why, Little Mytishchi is over there, and +this is right on the other side." + +Several men joined the first two. + +"See how it's flaring," said one. "That's a fire in Moscow: either +in the Sushchevski or the Rogozhski quarter." + +No one replied to this remark and for some time they all gazed +silently at the spreading flames of the second fire in the distance. + +Old Daniel Terentich, the count's valet (as he was called), came +up to the group and shouted at Mishka. + +"What are you staring at, you good-for-nothing?... The count will be +calling and there's nobody there; go and gather the clothes together." + +"I only ran out to get some water," said Mishka. + +"But what do you think, Daniel Terentich? Doesn't it look as if that +glow were in Moscow?" remarked one of the footmen. + +Daniel Terentich made no reply, and again for a long time they +were all silent. The glow spread, rising and failing, farther and +farther still. + +"God have mercy.... It's windy and dry..." said another voice. + +"Just look! See what it's doing now. O Lord! You can even see the +crows flying. Lord have mercy on us sinners!" + +"They'll put it out, no fear!" + +"Who's to put it out?" Daniel Terentich, who had hitherto been +silent, was heard to say. His voice was calm and deliberate. "Moscow +it is, brothers," said he. "Mother Moscow, the white..." his voice +faltered, and he gave way to an old man's sob. + +And it was as if they had all only waited for this to realize the +significance for them of the glow they were watching. Sighs were +heard, words of prayer, and the sobbing of the count's old valet. + +CHAPTER XXXI + +The valet, returning to the cottage, informed the count that +Moscow was burning. The count donned his dressing gown and went out to +look. Sonya and Madame Schoss, who had not yet undressed, went out +with him. Only Natasha and the countess remained in the room. Petya +was no longer with the family, he had gone on with his regiment +which was making for Troitsa. + +The countess, on hearing that Moscow was on fire, began to cry. +Natasha, pale, with a fixed look, was sitting on the bench under the +icons just where she had sat down on arriving and paid no attention to +her father's words. She was listening to the ceaseless moaning of +the adjutant, three houses off. + +"Oh, how terrible," said Sonya returning from the yard chilled and +frightened. "I believe the whole of Moscow will burn, there's an awful +glow! Natasha, do look! You can see it from the window," she said to +her cousin, evidently wishing to distract her mind. + +But Natasha looked at her as if not understanding what was said to +her and again fixed her eyes on the corner of the stove. She had +been in this condition of stupor since the morning, when Sonya, to the +surprise and annoyance of the countess, had for some unaccountable +reason found it necessary to tell Natasha of Prince Andrew's wound and +of his being with their party. The countess had seldom been so angry +with anyone as she was with Sonya. Sonya had cried and begged to be +forgiven and now, as if trying to atone for her fault, paid +unceasing attention to her cousin. + +"Look, Natasha, how dreadfully it is burning!" said she. + +"What's burning?" asked Natasha. "Oh, yes, Moscow." + +And as if in order not to offend Sonya and to get rid of her, she +turned her face to the window, looked out in such a way that it was +evident that she could not see anything, and again settled down in her +former attitude. + +"But you didn't see it!" + +"Yes, really I did," Natasha replied in a voice that pleaded to be +left in peace. + +Both the countess and Sonya understood that, naturally, neither +Moscow nor the burning of Moscow nor anything else could seem of +importance to Natasha. + +The count returned and lay down behind the partition. The countess +went up to her daughter and touched her head with the back of her hand +as she was wont to do when Natasha was ill, then touched her +forehead with her lips as if to feel whether she was feverish, and +finally kissed her. + +"You are cold. You are trembling all over. You'd better lie down," +said the countess. + +"Lie down? All right, I will. I'll lie down at once," said Natasha. + +When Natasha had been told that morning that Prince Andrew was +seriously wounded and was traveling with their party, she had at first +asked many questions: Where was he going? How was he wounded? Was it +serious? And could she see him? But after she had been told that she +could not see him, that he was seriously wounded but that his life was +not in danger, she ceased to ask questions or to speak at all, +evidently disbelieving what they told her, and convinced that say what +she might she would still be told the same. All the way she had sat +motionless in a corner of the coach with wide open eyes, and the +expression in them which the countess knew so well and feared so much, +and now she sat in the same way on the bench where she had seated +herself on arriving. She was planning something and either deciding or +had already decided something in her mind. The countess knew this, but +what it might be she did not know, and this alarmed and tormented her. + +"Natasha, undress, darling; lie down on my bed." + +A bed had been made on a bedstead for the countess only. Madame +Schoss and the two girls were to sleep on some hay on the floor. + +"No, Mamma, I will lie down here on the floor," Natasha replied +irritably and she went to the window and opened it. Through the open +window the moans of the adjutant could be heard more distinctly. She +put her head out into the damp night air, and the countess saw her +slim neck shaking with sobs and throbbing against the window frame. +Natasha knew it was not Prince Andrew who was moaning. She knew Prince +Andrew was in the same yard as themselves and in a part of the hut +across the passage; but this dreadful incessant moaning made her +sob. The countess exchanged a look with Sonya. + +"Lie down, darling; lie down, my pet," said the countess, softly +touching Natasha's shoulders. "Come, lie down." + +"Oh, yes... I'll lie down at once," said Natasha, and began +hurriedly undressing, tugging at the tapes of her petticoat. + +When she had thrown off her dress and put on a dressing jacket, +she sat down with her foot under her on the bed that had been made +up on the floor, jerked her thin and rather short plait of hair to the +front, and began replaiting it. Her long, thin, practiced fingers +rapidly unplaited, replaited, and tied up her plait. Her head moved +from side to side from habit, but her eyes, feverishly wide, looked +fixedly before her. When her toilet for the night was finished she +sank gently onto the sheet spread over the hay on the side nearest the +door. + +"Natasha, you'd better lie in the middle," said Sonya. + +"I'll stay here," muttered Natasha. "Do lie down," she added +crossly, and buried her face in the pillow. + +The countess, Madame Schoss, and Sonya undressed hastily and lay +down. The small lamp in front of the icons was the only light left +in the room. But in the yard there was a light from the fire at Little +Mytishchi a mile and a half away, and through the night came the noise +of people shouting at a tavern Mamonov's Cossacks had set up across +the street, and the adjutant's unceasing moans could still be heard. + +For a long time Natasha listened attentively to the sounds that +reached her from inside and outside the room and did not move. First +she heard her mother praying and sighing and the creaking of her bed +under her, then Madame Schoss' familiar whistling snore and Sonya's +gentle breathing. Then the countess called to Natasha. Natasha did not +answer. + +"I think she's asleep, Mamma," said Sonya softly. + +After short silence the countess spoke again but this time no one +replied. + +Soon after that Natasha heard her mother's even breathing. Natasha +did not move, though her little bare foot, thrust out from under the +quilt, was growing cold on the bare floor. + +As if to celebrate a victory over everybody, a cricket chirped in +a crack in the wall. A cock crowed far off and another replied near +by. The shouting in the tavern had died down; only the moaning of +the adjutant was heard. Natasha sat up. + +"Sonya, are you asleep? Mamma?" she whispered. + +No one replied. Natasha rose slowly and carefully, crossed +herself, and stepped cautiously on the cold and dirty floor with her +slim, supple, bare feet. The boards of the floor creaked. Stepping +cautiously from one foot to the other she ran like a kitten the few +steps to the door and grasped the cold door handle. + +It seemed to her that something heavy was beating rhythmically +against all the walls of the room: it was her own heart, sinking +with alarm and terror and overflowing with love. + +She opened the door and stepped across the threshold and onto the +cold, damp earthen floor of the passage. The cold she felt refreshed +her. With her bare feet she touched a sleeping man, stepped over +him, and opened the door into the part of the hut where Prince +Andrew lay. It was dark in there. In the farthest corner, on a bench +beside a bed on which something was lying, stood a tallow candle +with a long, thick, and smoldering wick. + +From the moment she had been told that of Prince Andrew's wound +and his presence there, Natasha had resolved to see him. She did not +know why she had to, she knew the meeting would be painful, but felt +the more convinced that it was necessary. + +All day she had lived only in hope of seeing him that night. But now +that the moment had come she was filled with dread of what she might +see. How was he maimed? What was left of him? Was he like that +incessant moaning of the adjutant's? Yes, he was altogether like that. +In her imagination he was that terrible moaning personified. When +she saw an indistinct shape in the corner, and mistook his knees +raised under the quilt for his shoulders, she imagined a horrible body +there, and stood still in terror. But an irresistible impulse drew her +forward. She cautiously took one step and then another, and found +herself in the middle of a small room containing baggage. Another man- +Timokhin- was lying in a corner on the benches beneath the icons, +and two others- the doctor and a valet- lay on the floor. + +The valet sat up and whispered something. Timokhin, kept awake by +the pain in his wounded leg, gazed with wide-open eyes at this strange +apparition of a girl in a white chemise, dressing jacket, and +nightcap. The valet's sleepy, frightened exclamation, "What do you +want? What's the matter?" made Natasha approach more swiftly to what +was lying in the corner. Horribly unlike a man as that body looked, +she must see him. She passed the valet, the snuff fell from the candle +wick, and she saw Prince Andrew clearly with his arms outside the +quilt, and such as she had always seen him. + +He was the same as ever, but the feverish color of his face, his +glittering eyes rapturously turned toward her, and especially his +neck, delicate as a child's, revealed by the turn-down collar of his +shirt, gave him a peculiarly innocent, childlike look, such as she had +never seen on him before. She went up to him and with a swift, +flexible, youthful movement dropped on her knees. + +He smiled and held out his hand to her. + +CHAPTER XXXII + +Seven days had passed since Prince Andrew found himself in the +ambulance station on the field of Borodino. His feverish state and the +inflammation of his bowels, which were injured, were in the doctor's +opinion sure to carry him off. But on the seventh day he ate with +pleasure a piece of bread with some tea, and the doctor noticed that +his temperature was lower. He had regained consciousness that morning. +The first night after they left Moscow had been fairly warm and he had +remained in the caleche, but at Mytishchi the wounded man himself +asked to be taken out and given some tea. The pain caused by his +removal into the hut had made him groan aloud and again lose +consciousness. When he had been placed on his camp bed he lay for a +long time motionless with closed eyes. Then he opened them and +whispered softly: "And the tea?" His remembering such a small detail +of everyday life astonished the doctor. He felt Prince Andrew's pulse, +and to his surprise and dissatisfaction found it had improved. He +was dissatisfied because he knew by experience that if his patient did +not die now, he would do so a little later with greater suffering. +Timokhin, the red-nosed major of Prince Andrew's regiment, had +joined him in Moscow and was being taken along with him, having been +wounded in the leg at the battle of Borodino. They were accompanied by +a doctor, Prince Andrew's valet, his coach. man, and two orderlies. + +They gave Prince Andrew some tea. He drank it eagerly, looking +with feverish eyes at the door in front of him as if trying to +understand and remember something. + +"I don't want any more. Is Timokhin here?" he asked. + +Timokhin crept along the bench to him. + +"I am here, your excellency." + +"How's your wound?" + +"Mine, sir? All right. But how about you?" + +Prince Andrew again pondered as if trying to remember something. + +"Couldn't one get a book?" he asked. + +"What book?" + +"The Gospels. I haven't one." + +The doctor promised to procure it for him and began to ask how he +was feeling. Prince Andrew answered all his questions reluctantly +but reasonably, and then said he wanted a bolster placed under him +as he was uncomfortable and in great pain. The doctor and valet lifted +the cloak with which he was covered and, making wry faces at the +noisome smell of mortifying flesh that came from the wound, began +examining that dreadful place. The doctor was very much displeased +about something and made a change in the dressings, turning the +wounded man over so that he groaned again and grew unconscious and +delirious from the agony. He kept asking them to get him the book +and put it under him. + +"What trouble would it be to you?" he said. "I have not got one. +Please get it for me and put it under for a moment," he pleaded in a +piteous voice. + +The doctor went into the passage to wash his hands. + +"You fellows have no conscience," said he to the valet who was +pouring water over his hands. "For just one moment I didn't look after +you... It's such pain, you know, that I wonder how he can bear it." + +"By the Lord Jesus Christ, I thought we had put something under +him!" said the valet. + +The first time Prince Andrew understood where he was and what was +the matter with him and remembered being wounded and how was when he +asked to be carried into the hut after his caleche had stopped at +Mytishchi. After growing confused from pain while being carried into +the hut he again regained consciousness, and while drinking tea once +more recalled all that had happened to him, and above all vividly +remembered the moment at the ambulance station when, at the sight of +the sufferings of a man he disliked, those new thoughts had come to +him which promised him happiness. And those thoughts, though now vague +and indefinite, again possessed his soul. He remembered that he had +now a new source of happiness and that this happiness had something to +do with the Gospels. That was why he asked for a copy of them. The +uncomfortable position in which they had put him and turned him over +again confused his thoughts, and when he came to himself a third +time it was in the complete stillness of the night. Everybody near him +was sleeping. A cricket chirped from across the passage; someone was +shouting and singing in the street; cockroaches rustled on the +table, on the icons, and on the walls, and a big fly flopped at the +head of the bed and around the candle beside him, the wick of which +was charred and had shaped itself like a mushroom. + +His mind was not in a normal state. A healthy man usually thinks of, +feels, and remembers innumerable things simultaneously, but has the +power and will to select one sequence of thoughts or events on which +to fix his whole attention. A healthy man can tear himself away from +the deepest reflections to say a civil word to someone who comes in +and can then return again to his own thoughts. But Prince Andrew's +mind was not in a normal state in that respect. All the powers of +his mind were more active and clearer than ever, but they acted +apart from his will. Most diverse thoughts and images occupied him +simultaneously. At times his brain suddenly began to work with a +vigor, clearness, and depth it had never reached when he was in +health, but suddenly in the midst of its work it would turn to some +unexpected idea and he had not the strength to turn it back again. + +"Yes, a new happiness was revealed to me of which man cannot be +deprived," he thought as he lay in the semi-darkness of the quiet hut, +gazing fixedly before him with feverish wide open eyes. "A happiness +lying beyond material forces, outside the material influences that act +on man- a happiness of the soul alone, the happiness of loving. +Every man can understand it, but to conceive it and enjoin it was +possible only for God. But how did God enjoin that law? And why was +the Son...?" + +And suddenly the sequence of these thoughts broke off, and Prince +Andrew heard (without knowing whether it was a delusion or reality) +a soft whispering voice incessantly and rhythmically repeating +"piti-piti-piti," and then "titi," and then again "piti-piti-piti," +and "ti-ti" once more. At the same time he felt that above his face, +above the very middle of it, some strange airy structure was being +erected out of slender needles or splinters, to the sound of this +whispered music. He felt that he had to balance carefully (though it +was difficult) so that this airy structure should not collapse; but +nevertheless it kept collapsing and again slowly rising to the sound +of whispered rhythmic music- "it stretches, stretches, spreading out +and stretching," said Prince Andrew to himself. While listening to +this whispering and feeling the sensation of this drawing out and +the construction of this edifice of needles, he also saw by glimpses a +red halo round the candle, and heard the rustle of the cockroaches and +the buzzing of the fly that flopped against his pillow and his face. +Each time the fly touched his face it gave him a burning sensation and +yet to his surprise it did not destroy the structure, though it +knocked against the very region of his face where it was rising. But +besides this there was something else of importance. It was +something white by the door- the statue of a sphinx, which also +oppressed him. + +"But perhaps that's my shirt on the table," he thought, "and +that's my legs, and that is the door, but why is it always +stretching and drawing itself out, and 'piti-piti-piti' and 'ti-ti' +and 'piti-piti-piti'...? That's enough, please leave off!" Prince +Andrew painfully entreated someone. And suddenly thoughts and feelings +again swam to the surface of his mind with peculiar clearness and +force. + +"Yes- love," he thought again quite clearly. "But not love which +loves for something, for some quality, for some purpose, or for some +reason, but the love which I- while dying- first experienced when I +saw my enemy and yet loved him. I experienced that feeling of love +which is the very essence of the soul and does not require an +object. Now again I feel that bliss. To love one's neighbors, to +love one's enemies, to love everything, to love God in all His +manifestations. It is possible to love someone dear to you with +human love, but an enemy can only be loved by divine love. That is why +I experienced such joy when I felt that I loved that man. What has +become of him? Is he alive?... + +"When loving with human love one may pass from love to hatred, but +divine love cannot change. No, neither death nor anything else can +destroy it. It is the very essence of the soul. Yet how many people +have I hated in my life? And of them all, I loved and hated none as +I did her." And he vividly pictured to himself Natasha, not as he +had done in the past with nothing but her charms which gave him +delight, but for the first time picturing to himself her soul. And +he understood her feelings, her sufferings, shame, and remorse. He now +understood for the first time all the cruelty of his rejection of her, +the cruelty of his rupture with her. "If only it were possible for +me to see her once more! Just once, looking into those eyes to say..." + +"Piti-piti-piti and ti-ti and piti-piti-piti boom!" flopped the +fly... And his attention was suddenly carried into another world, a +world of reality and delirium in which something particular was +happening. In that world some structure was still being erected and +did not fall, something was still stretching out, and the candle +with its red halo was still burning, and the same shirtlike sphinx lay +near the door; but besides all this something creaked, there was a +whiff of fresh air, and a new white sphinx appeared, standing at the +door. And that sphinx had the pale face and shining eyes of the very +Natasha of whom he had just been thinking. + +"Oh, how oppressive this continual delirium is," thought Prince +Andrew, trying to drive that face from his imagination. But the face +remained before him with the force of reality and drew nearer. +Prince Andrew wished to return that former world of pure thought, +but he could not, and delirium drew him back into its domain. The soft +whispering voice continued its rhythmic murmur, something oppressed +him and stretched out, and the strange face was before him. Prince +Andrew collected all his strength in an effort to recover his +senses, he moved a little, and suddenly there was a ringing in his +ears, a dimness in his eyes, and like a man plunged into water he lost +consciousness. When he came to himself, Natasha, that same living +Natasha whom of all people he most longed to love with this new pure +divine love that had been revealed to him, was kneeling before him. He +realized that it was the real living Natasha, and he was not surprised +but quietly happy. Natasha, motionless on her knees (she was unable to +stir), with frightened eyes riveted on him, was restraining her +sobs. Her face was pale and rigid. Only in the lower part of it +something quivered. + +Prince Andrew sighed with relief, smiled, and held out his hand. + +"You?" he said. "How fortunate!" + +With a rapid but careful movement Natasha drew nearer to him on +her knees and, taking his hand carefully, bent her face over it and +began kissing it, just touching it lightly with her lips. + +"Forgive me!" she whispered, raising her head and glancing at him. +"Forgive me!" + +"I love you," said Prince Andrew. + +"Forgive...!" + +"Forgive what?" he asked. + +"Forgive me for what I ha-ve do-ne!" faltered Natasha in a +scarcely audible, broken whisper, and began kissing his hand more +rapidly, just touching it with her lips. + +"I love you more, better than before," said Prince Andrew, lifting +her face with his hand so as to look into her eyes. + +Those eyes, filled with happy tears, gazed at him timidly, +compassionately, and with joyous love. Natasha's thin pale face, +with its swollen lips, was more than plain- it was dreadful. But +Prince Andrew did not see that, he saw her shining eyes which were +beautiful. They heard the sound of voices behind them. + +Peter the valet, who was now wide awake, had roused the doctor. +Timokhin, who had not slept at all because of the pain in his leg, had +long been watching all that was going on, carefully covering his +bare body with the sheet as he huddled up on his bench. + +"What's this?" said the doctor, rising from his bed. "Please go +away, madam!" + +At that moment a maid sent by the countess, who had noticed her +daughter's absence, knocked at the door. + +Like a somnambulist aroused from her sleep Natasha went out of the +room and, returning to her hut, fell sobbing on her bed. + +From that time, during all the rest of the Rostovs' journey, at +every halting place and wherever they spent a night, Natasha never +left the wounded Bolkonski, and the doctor had to admit that he had +not expected from a young girl either such firmness or such skill in +nursing a wounded man. + +Dreadful as the countess imagined it would be should Prince Andrew +die in her daughter's arms during the journey- as, judging by what the +doctor said, it seemed might easily happen- she could not oppose +Natasha. Though with the intimacy now established between the +wounded man and Natasha the thought occurred that should he recover +their former engagement would be renewed, no one- least of all Natasha +and Prince Andrew- spoke of this: the unsettled question of life and +death, which hung not only over Bolkonski but over all Russia, shut +out all other considerations. + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +On the third of September Pierre awoke late. His head was aching, +the clothes in which he had slept without undressing felt +uncomfortable on his body, and his mind had a dim consciousness of +something shameful he had done the day before. That something shameful +was his yesterday's conversation with Captain Ramballe. + +It was eleven by the clock, but it seemed peculiarly dark out of +doors. Pierre rose, rubbed his eyes, and seeing the pistol with an +engraved stock which Gerasim had replaced on the writing table, he +remembered where he was and what lay before him that very day. + +"Am I not too late?" he thought. "No, probably he won't make his +entry into Moscow before noon." + +Pierre did not allow himself to reflect on what lay before him, +but hastened to act. + +After arranging his clothes, he took the pistol and was about to +go out. But it then occurred to him for the first time that he +certainly could not carry the weapon in his hand through the +streets. It was difficult to hide such a big pistol even under his +wide coat. He could not carry it unnoticed in his belt or under his +arm. Besides, it had been discharged, and he had not had time to +reload it. "No matter, dagger will do," he said to himself, though +when planning his design he had more than once come to the +conclusion that the chief mistake made by the student in 1809 had been +to try to kill Napoleon with a dagger. But as his chief aim +consisted not in carrying out his design, but in proving to himself +that he would not abandon his intention and was doing all he could +to achieve it, Pierre hastily took the blunt jagged dagger in a +green sheath which he had bought at the Sukharev market with the +pistol, and hid it under his waistcoat. + +Having tied a girdle over his coat and pulled his cap low on his +head, Pierre went down the corridor, trying to avoid making a noise or +meeting the captain, and passed out into the street. + +The conflagration, at which he had looked with so much +indifference the evening before, had greatly increased during the +night. Moscow was on fire in several places. The buildings in Carriage +Row, across the river, in the Bazaar and the Povarskoy, as well as the +barges on the Moskva River and the timber yards by the Dorogomilov +Bridge, were all ablaze. + +Pierre's way led through side streets to the Povarskoy and from +there to the church of St. Nicholas on the Arbat, where he had long +before decided that the deed should should be done. The gates of +most of the houses were locked and the shutters up. The streets and +lanes were deserted. The air was full of smoke and the smell of +burning. Now and then he met Russians with anxious and timid faces, +and Frenchmen with an air not of the city but of the camp, walking +in the middle of the streets. Both the Russians and the French +looked at Pierre with surprise. Besides his height and stoutness, +and the strange morose look of suffering in his face and whole figure, +the Russians stared at Pierre because they could not make out to +what class he could belong. The French followed him with +astonishment in their eyes chiefly because Pierre, unlike all the +other Russians who gazed at the French with fear and curiosity, paid +no attention to them. At the gate of one house three Frenchmen, who +were explaining something to some Russians who did not understand +them, stopped Pierre asking if he did not know French. + +Pierre shook his head and went on. In another side street a sentinel +standing beside a green caisson shouted at him, but only when the +shout was threateningly repeated and he heard the click of the man's +musket as he raised it did Pierre understand that he had to pass on +the other side of the street. He heard nothing and saw nothing of what +went on around him. He carried his resolution within himself in terror +and haste, like something dreadful and alien to him, for, after the +previous night's experience, he was afraid of losing it. But he was +not destined to bring his mood safely to his destination. And even had +he not been hindered by anything on the way, his intention could not +now have been carried out, for Napoleon had passed the Arbat more than +four hours previously on his way from the Dorogomilov suburb to the +Kremlin, and was now sitting in a very gloomy frame of mind in a royal +study in the Kremlin, giving detailed and exact orders as to +measures to be taken immediately to extinguish the fire, to prevent +looting, and to reassure the inhabitants. But Pierre did not know +this; he was entirely absorbed in what lay before him, and was +tortured- as those are who obstinately undertake a task that is +impossible for them not because of its difficulty but because of its +incompatibility with their natures- by the fear of weakening at the +decisive moment and so losing his self-esteem. + +Though he heard and saw nothing around him he found his way by +instinct and did not go wrong in the side streets that led to the +Povarskoy. + +As Pierre approached that street the smoke became denser and denser- +he even felt the heat of the fire. Occasionally curly tongues of flame +rose from under the roofs of the houses. He met more people in the +streets and they were more excited. But Pierre, though he felt that +something unusual was happening around him, did not realize that he +was approaching the fire. As he was going along a foot path across a +wide-open space adjoining the Povarskoy on one side and the gardens of +Prince Gruzinski's house on the other, Pierre suddenly heard the +desperate weeping of a woman close to him. He stopped as if +awakening from a dream and lifted his head. + +By the side of the path, on the dusty dry grass, all sorts of +household goods lay in a heap: featherbeds, a samovar, icons, and +trunks. On the ground, beside the trunks, sat a thin woman no longer +young, with long, prominent upper teeth, and wearing a black cloak and +cap. This woman, swaying to and fro and muttering something, was +choking with sobs. Two girls of about ten and twelve, dressed in dirty +short frocks and cloaks, were staring at their mother with a look of +stupefaction on their pale frightened faces. The youngest child, a boy +of about seven, who wore an overcoat and an immense cap evidently +not his own, was crying in his old nurse's arms. A dirty, barefooted +maid was sitting on a trunk, and, having undone her pale-colored +plait, was pulling it straight and sniffing at her singed hair. The +woman's husband, a short, round-shouldered man in the undress +uniform of a civilian official, with sausage-shaped whiskers and +showing under his square-set cap the hair smoothly brushed forward +over his temples, with expressionless face was moving the trunks, +which were placed one on another, and was dragging some garments +from under them. + +As soon as she saw Pierre, the woman almost threw herself at his +feet. + +"Dear people, good Christians, save me, help me, dear friends... +help us, somebody," she muttered between her sobs. "My girl... My +daughter! My youngest daughter is left behind. She's burned! Ooh! +Was it for this I nursed you.... Ooh!" + +"Don't, Mary Nikolievna!" said her husband to her in a low voice, +evidently only to justify himself before the stranger. "Sister must +have taken her, or else where can she be?" he added. + +"Monster! Villain!" shouted the woman angrily, suddenly ceasing to +weep. "You have no heart, you don't feel for your own child! Another +man would have rescued her from the fire. But this is a monster and +neither a man nor a father! You, honored sir, are a noble man," she +went on, addressing Pierre rapidly between her sobs. "The fire broke +out alongside, and blew our way, the maid called out 'Fire!' and we +rushed to collect our things. We ran out just as we were.... This is +what we have brought away.... The icons, and my dowry bed, all the +rest is lost. We seized the children. But not Katie! Ooh! O +Lord!..." and again she began to sob. "My child, my dear one! +Burned, burned!" + +"But where was she left?" asked Pierre. + +From the expression of his animated face the woman saw that this man +might help her. + +"Oh, dear sir!" she cried, seizing him by the legs. "My +benefactor, set my heart at ease.... Aniska, go, you horrid girl, show +him the way!" she cried to the maid, angrily opening her mouth and +still farther exposing her long teeth. + +"Show me the way, show me, I... I'll do it," gasped Pierre rapidly. + +The dirty maidservant stepped from behind the trunk, put up her +plait, sighed, and went on her short, bare feet along the path. Pierre +felt as if he had come back to life after a heavy swoon. He held his +head higher, his eyes shone with the light of life, and with swift +steps he followed the maid, overtook her, and came out on the +Povarskoy. The whole street was full of clouds of black smoke. Tongues +of flame here and there broke through that cloud. A great number of +people crowded in front of the conflagration. In the middle of the +street stood a French general saying something to those around him. +Pierre, accompanied by the maid, was advancing to the spot where the +general stood, but the French soldiers stopped him. + +"On ne passe pas!"~^ cried a voice. + +^~ "You can't pass! + +"This way, uncle," cried the girl. "We'll pass through the side +street, by the Nikulins'!" + +Pierre turned back, giving a spring now and then to keep up with +her. She ran across the street, turned down a side street to the left, +and, passing three houses, turned into a yard on the right. + +"It's here, close by," said she and, running across the yard, opened +a gate in a wooden fence and, stopping, pointed out to him a small +wooden wing of the house, which was burning brightly and fiercely. One +of its sides had fallen in, another was on fire, and bright flames +issued from the openings of the windows and from under the roof. + +As Pierre passed through the fence gate, he was enveloped by hot air +and involuntarily stopped. + +"Which is it? Which is your house?" he asked. + +"Ooh!" wailed the girl, pointing to the wing. "That's it, that was +our lodging. You've burned to death, our treasure, Katie, my +precious little missy! Ooh!" lamented Aniska, who at the sight of +the fire felt that she too must give expression to her feelings. + +Pierre rushed to the wing, but the heat was so great that he +involuntarily passed round in a curve and came upon the large house +that was as yet burning only at one end, just below the roof, and +around which swarmed a crowd of Frenchmen. At first Pierre did not +realize what these men, who were dragging something out, were about; +but seeing before him a Frenchman hitting a peasant with a blunt saber +and trying to take from him a fox-fur coat, he vaguely understood that +looting was going on there, but he had no time to dwell on that idea. + +The sounds of crackling and the din of falling walls and ceilings, +the whistle and hiss of the flames, the excited shouts of the +people, and the sight of the swaying smoke, now gathering into thick +black clouds and now soaring up with glittering sparks, with here +and there dense sheaves of flame (now red and now like golden fish +scales creeping along the walls), and the heat and smoke and +rapidity of motion, produced on Pierre the usual animating effects +of a conflagration. It had a peculiarly strong effect on him because +at the sight of the fire he felt himself suddenly freed from the ideas +that had weighed him down. He felt young, bright, adroit, and +resolute. He ran round to the other side of the lodge and was about to +dash into that part of it which was still standing, when just above +his head he heard several voices shouting and then a cracking sound +and the ring of something heavy falling close beside him. + +Pierre looked up and saw at a window of the large house some +Frenchmen who had just thrown out the drawer of a chest, filled with +metal articles. Other French soldiers standing below went up to the +drawer. + +"What does this fellow want?" shouted one of them referring to +Pierre. + +"There's a child in that house. Haven't you seen a child?" cried +Pierre. + +"What's he talking about? Get along!" said several voices, and one +of the soldiers, evidently afraid that Pierre might want to take +from them some of the plate and bronzes that were in the drawer, moved +threateningly toward him. + +"A child?" shouted a Frenchman from above. "I did hear something +squealing in the garden. Perhaps it's his brat that the fellow is +looking for. After all, one must be human, you know...." + +"Where is it? Where?" said Pierre. + +"There! There!" shouted the Frenchman at the window, pointing to the +garden at the back of the house. "Wait a bit- I'm coming down." + +And a minute or two later the Frenchman, a black-eyed fellow with +a spot on his cheek, in shirt sleeves, really did jump out of a window +on the ground floor, and clapping Pierre on the shoulder ran with +him into the garden. + +"Hurry up, you others!" he called out to his comrades. "It's getting +hot." + +When they reached a gravel path behind the house the Frenchman +pulled Pierre by the arm and pointed to a round, graveled space +where a three-year-old girl in a pink dress was lying under a seat. + +"There is your child! Oh, a girl, so much the better!" said the +Frenchman. "Good-by, Fatty. We must be human, we are all mortal you +know!" and the Frenchman with the spot on his cheek ran back to his +comrades. + +Breathless with joy, Pierre ran to the little girl and was going +to take her in his arms. But seeing a stranger the sickly, +scrofulous-looking child, unattractively like her mother, began to +yell and run away. Pierre, however, seized her and lifted her in his +arms. She screamed desperately and angrily and tried with her little +hands to pull Pierre's hands away and to bite them with her slobbering +mouth. Pierre was seized by a sense of horror and repulsion such as he +had experienced when touching some nasty little animal. But he made an +effort not to throw the child down and ran with her to the large +house. It was now, however, impossible to get back the way he had +come; the maid, Aniska, was no longer there, and Pierre with a feeling +of pity and disgust pressed the wet, painfully sobbing child to +himself as tenderly as he could and ran with her through the garden +seeking another way out. + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +Having run through different yards and side streets, Pierre got back +with his little burden to the Gruzinski garden at the corner of the +Povarskoy. He did not at first recognize the place from which he had +set out to look for the child, so crowded was it now with people and +goods that had been dragged out of the houses. Besides Russian +families who had taken refuge here from the fire with their +belongings, there were several French soldiers in a variety of +clothing. Pierre took no notice of them. He hurried to find the family +of that civil servant in order to restore the daughter to her mother +and go to save someone else. Pierre felt that he had still much to +do and to do quickly. Glowing with the heat and from running, he +felt at that moment more strongly than ever the sense of youth, +animation, and determination that had come on him when he ran to +save the child. She had now become quiet and, clinging with her little +hands to Pierre's coat, sat on his arm gazing about her like some +little wild animal. He glanced at her occasionally with a slight +smile. He fancied he saw something pathetically innocent in that +frightened, sickly little face. + +He did not find the civil servant or his wife where he had left +them. He walked among the crowd with rapid steps, scanning the various +faces he met. Involuntarily he noticed a Georgian or Armenian family +consisting of a very handsome old man of Oriental type, wearing a new, +cloth-covered, sheepskin coat and new boots, an old woman of similar +type, and a young woman. That very young woman seemed to Pierre the +perfection of Oriental beauty, with her sharply outlined, arched, +black eyebrows and the extraordinarily soft, bright color of her long, +beautiful, expressionless face. Amid the scattered property and the +crowd on the open space, she, in her rich satin cloak with a bright +lilac shawl on her head, suggested a delicate exotic plant thrown +out onto the snow. She was sitting on some bundles a little behind the +old woman, and looked from under her long lashes with motionless, +large, almond-shaped eyes at the ground before her. Evidently she +was aware of her beauty and fearful because of it. Her face struck +Pierre and, hurrying along by the fence, he turned several times to +look at her. When he had reached the fence, still without finding +those he sought, he stopped and looked about him. + +With the child in his arms his figure was now more conspicuous +than before, and a group of Russians, both men and women, gathered +about him. + +"Have you lost anyone, my dear fellow? You're of the gentry +yourself, aren't you? Whose child is it?" they asked him. + +Pierre replied that the child belonged to a woman in a black coat +who had been sitting there with her other children, and he asked +whether anyone knew where she had gone. + +"Why, that must be the Anferovs," said an old deacon, addressing a +pockmarked peasant woman. "Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy!" he added +in his customary bass. + +"The Anferovs? No," said the woman. "They left in the morning. +That must be either Mary Nikolievna's or the Ivanovs'!" + +"He says 'a woman,' and Mary Nikolievna is a lady," remarked a house +serf. + +"Do you know her? She's thin, with long teeth," said Pierre. + +"That's Mary Nikolievna! They went inside the garden when these +wolves swooped down," said the woman, pointing to the French soldiers. + +"O Lord, have mercy!" added the deacon. + +"Go over that way, they're there. It's she! She kept on lamenting +and crying," continued the woman. "It's she. Here, this way!" + +But Pierre was not listening to the woman. He had for some seconds +been intently watching what was going on a few steps away. He was +looking at the Armenian family and at two French soldiers who had gone +up to them. One of these, a nimble little man, was wearing a blue coat +tied round the waist with a rope. He had a nightcap on his head and +his feet were bare. The other, whose appearance particularly struck +Pierre, was a long, lank, round-shouldered, fair-haired man, slow in +his movements and with an idiotic expression of face. He wore a +woman's loose gown of frieze, blue trousers, and large torn Hessian +boots. The little barefooted Frenchman in the blue coat went up to the +Armenians and, saying something, immediately seized the old man by his +legs and the old man at once began pulling off his boots. The other in +the frieze gown stopped in front of the beautiful Armenian girl and +with his hands in his pockets stood staring at her, motionless and +silent. + +"Here, take the child!" said Pierre peremptorily and hurriedly to +the woman, handing the little girl to her. "Give her back to them, +give her back!" he almost shouted, putting the child, who began +screaming, on the ground, and again looking at the Frenchman and the +Armenian family. + +The old man was already sitting barefoot. The little Frenchman had +secured his second boot and was slapping one boot against the other. +The old man was saying something in a voice broken by sobs, but Pierre +caught but a glimpse of this, his whole attention was directed to +the Frenchman in the frieze gown who meanwhile, swaying slowly from +side to side, had drawn nearer to the young woman and taking his hands +from his pockets had seized her by the neck. + +The beautiful Armenian still sat motionless and in the same +attitude, with her long lashes drooping as if she did not see or +feel what the soldier was doing to her. + +While Pierre was running the few steps that separated him from the +Frenchman, the tall marauder in the frieze gown was already tearing +from her neck the necklace the young Armenian was wearing, and the +young woman, clutching at her neck, screamed piercingly. + +"Let that woman alone!" exclaimed Pierre hoarsely in a furious +voice, seizing the soldier by his round shoulders and throwing him +aside. + +The soldier fell, got up, and ran away. But his comrade, throwing +down the boots and drawing his sword, moved threateningly toward +Pierre. + +"Voyons, Pas de betises!"~^ he cried. + +^~ "Look here, no nonsense!" + +Pierre was in such a transport of rage that he remembered nothing +and his strength increased tenfold. He rushed at the barefooted +Frenchman and, before the latter had time to draw his sword, knocked +him off his feet and hammered him with his fists. Shouts of approval +were heard from the crowd around, and at the same moment a mounted +patrol of French Uhlans appeared from round the corner. The Uhlans +came up at a trot to Pierre and the Frenchman and surrounded them. +Pierre remembered nothing of what happened after that. He only +remembered beating someone and being beaten and finally feeling that +his hands were bound and that a crowd of French soldiers stood +around him and were searching him. + +"Lieutenant, he has a dagger," were the first words Pierre +understood. + +"Ah, a weapon?" said the officer and turned to the barefooted +soldier who had been arrested with Pierre. "All right, you can tell +all about it at the court-martial." Then he turned to Pierre. "Do +you speak French?" + +Pierre looked around him with bloodshot eyes and did not reply. +His face probably looked very terrible, for the officer said something +in a whisper and four more Uhlans left the ranks and placed themselves +on both sides of Pierre. + +"Do you speak French?" the officer asked again, keeping at a +distance from Pierre. "Call the interpreter." + +A little man in Russian civilian clothes rode out from the ranks, +and by his clothes and manner of speaking Pierre at once knew him to +be a French salesman from one of the Moscow shops. + +"He does not look like a common man," said the interpreter, after +a searching look at Pierre. + +"Ah, he looks very much like an incendiary," remarked the officer. +"And ask him who he is," he added. + +"Who are you?" asked the interpreter in poor Russian. "You must +answer the chief." + +"I will not tell you who I am. I am your prisoner- take me!" +Pierre suddenly replied in French. + +"Ah, ah!" muttered the officer with a frown. "Well then, march!" + +A crowd had collected round the Uhlans. Nearest to Pierre stood +the pockmarked peasant woman with the little girl, and when the patrol +started she moved forward. + +"Where are they taking you to, you poor dear?" said she. "And the +little girl, the little girl, what am I to do with her if she's not +theirs?" said the woman. + +"What does that woman want?" asked the officer. + +Pierre was as if intoxicated. His elation increased at the sight +of the little girl he had saved. + +"What does she want?" he murmured. "She is bringing me my daughter +whom I have just saved from the flames," said he. "Good-by!" And +without knowing how this aimless lie had escaped him, he went along +with resolute and triumphant steps between the French soldiers. + +The French patrol was one of those sent out through the various +streets of Moscow by Durosnel's order to put a stop to the pillage, +and especially to catch the incendiaries who, according to the general +opinion which had that day originated among the higher French +officers, were the cause of the conflagrations. After marching through +a number of streets the patrol arrested five more Russian suspects: +a small shopkeeper, two seminary students, a peasant, and a house +serf, besides several looters. But of all these various suspected +characters, Pierre was considered to be the most suspicious of all. +When they had all been brought for the night to a large house on the +Zubov Rampart that was being used as a guardhouse, Pierre was placed +apart under strict guard. + +BOOK TWELVE: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +In Petersburg at that time a complicated struggle was being +carried on with greater heat than ever in the highest circles, between +the parties of Rumyantsev, the French, Marya Fedorovna, the Tsarevich, +and others, drowned as usual by the buzzing of the court drones. But +the calm, luxurious life of Petersburg, concerned only about +phantoms and reflections of real life, went on in its old way and made +it hard, except by a great effort, to realize the danger and the +difficult position of the Russian people. There were the same +receptions and balls, the same French theater, the same court +interests and service interests and intrigues as usual. Only in the +very highest circles were attempts made to keep in mind the +difficulties of the actual position. Stories were whispered of how +differently the two Empresses behaved in these difficult +circumstances. The Empress Marya, concerned for the welfare of the +charitable and educational institutions under her patronage, had given +directions that they should all be removed to Kazan, and the things +belonging to these institutions had already been packed up. The +Empress Elisabeth, however, when asked what instructions she would +be pleased to give- with her characteristic Russian patriotism had +replied that she could give no directions about state institutions for +that was the affair of the sovereign, but as far as she personally was +concerned she would be the last to quit Petersburg. + +At Anna Pavlovna's on the twenty-sixth of August, the very day of +the battle of Borodino, there was a soiree, the chief feature of which +was to be the reading of a letter from His Lordship the Bishop when +sending the Emperor an icon of the Venerable Sergius. It was +regarded as a model of ecclesiastical, patriotic eloquence. Prince +Vasili himself, famed for his elocution, was to read it. (He used to +read at the Empress'.) The art of his reading was supposed to lie in +rolling out the words, quite independently of their meaning, in a loud +and singsong voice alternating between a despairing wail and a +tender murmur, so that the wail fell quite at random on one word and +the murmur on another. This reading, as was always the case at Anna +Pavlovna's soirees, had a political significance. That evening she +expected several important personages who had to be made ashamed of +their visits to the French theater and aroused to a patriotic +temper. A good many people had already arrived, but Anna Pavlovna, not +yet seeing all those whom she wanted in her drawing room, did not +let the reading begin but wound up the springs of a general +conversation. + +The news of the day in Petersburg was the illness of Countess +Bezukhova. She had fallen ill unexpectedly a few days previously, +had missed several gatherings of which she was usually ornament, and +was said to be receiving no one, and instead of the celebrated +Petersburg doctors who usually attended her had entrusted herself to +some Italian doctor who was treating her in some new and unusual way. + +They all knew very well that the enchanting countess' illness +arose from an inconvenience resulting from marrying two husbands at +the same time, and that the Italian's cure consisted in removing +such inconvenience; but in Anna Pavlovna's presence no one dared to +think of this or even appear to know it. + +"They say the poor countess is very ill. The doctor says it is +angina pectoris." + +"Angina? Oh, that's a terrible illness!" + +"They say that the rivals are reconciled, thanks to the angina..." +and the word angina was repeated with great satisfaction. + +"The count is pathetic, they say. He cried like a child when the +doctor told him the case was dangerous." + +"Oh, it would be a terrible loss, she is an enchanting woman." + +"You are speaking of the poor countess?" said Anna Pavlovna, +coming up just then. "I sent to ask for news, and hear that she is a +little better. Oh, she is certainly the most charming woman in the +world," she went on, with a smile at her own enthusiasm. "We belong to +different camps, but that does not prevent my esteeming her as she +deserves. She is very unfortunate!" added Anna Pavlovna. + +Supposing that by these words Anna Pavlovna was somewhat lifting the +veil from the secret of the countess' malady, an unwary young man +ventured to express surprise that well known doctors had not been +called in and that the countess was being attended by a charlatan +who might employ dangerous remedies. + +"Your information maybe better than mine," Anna Pavlovna suddenly +and venomously retorted on the inexperienced young man, "but I know on +good authority that this doctor is a very learned and able man. He +is private physician to the Queen of Spain." + +And having thus demolished the young man, Anna Pavlovna turned to +another group where Bilibin was talking about the Austrians: having +wrinkled up his face he was evidently preparing to smooth it out again +and utter one of his mots. + +"I think it is delightful," he said, referring to a diplomatic +note that had been sent to Vienna with some Austrian banners +captured from the French by Wittgenstein, "the hero of Petropol" as he +was then called in Petersburg. + +"What? What's that?" asked Anna Pavlovna, securing silence for the +mot, which she had heard before. + +And Bilibin repeated the actual words of the diplomatic dispatch, +which he had himself composed. + +"The Emperor returns these Austrian banners," said Bilibin, +"friendly banners gone astray and found on a wrong path," and his brow +became smooth again. + +"Charming, charming!" observed Prince Vasili. + +"The path to Warsaw, perhaps," Prince Hippolyte remarked loudly +and unexpectedly. Everybody looked at him, understanding what he +meant. Prince Hippolyte himself glanced around with amused surprise. +He knew no more than the others what his words meant. During his +diplomatic career he had more than once noticed that such utterances +were received as very witty, and at every opportunity he uttered in +that way the first words that entered his head. "It may turn out +very well," he thought, "but if not, they'll know how to arrange +matters." And really, during the awkward silence that ensued, that +insufficiently patriotic person entered whom Anna Pavlovna had been +waiting for and wished to convert, and she, smiling and shaking a +finger at Hippolyte, invited Prince Vasili to the table and bringing +him two candles and the manuscript begged him to begin. Everyone +became silent. + +"Most Gracious Sovereign and Emperor! " Prince Vasili sternly +declaimed, looking round at his audience as if to inquire whether +anyone had anything to say to the contrary. But no one said +anything. "Moscow, our ancient capital, the New Jerusalem, receives +her Christ"- he placed a sudden emphasis on the word her- "as a mother +receives her zealous sons into her arms, and through the gathering +mists, foreseeing the brilliant glory of thy rule, sings in +exultation, 'Hosanna, blessed is he that cometh!'" + +Prince Vasili pronounced these last words in a tearful voice. + +Bilibin attentively examined his nails, and many of those present +appeared intimidated, as if asking in what they were to blame. Anna +Pavlovna whispered the next words in advance, like an old woman +muttering the prayer at Communion: "Let the bold and insolent +Goliath..." she whispered. + +Prince Vasili continued. + +"Let the bold and insolent Goliath from the borders of France +encompass the realms of Russia with death-bearing terrors; humble +Faith, the sling of the Russian David, shall suddenly smite his head +in his blood-thirsty pride. This icon of the Venerable Sergius, the +servant of God and zealous champion of old of our country's weal, is +offered to Your Imperial Majesty. I grieve that my waning strength +prevents rejoicing in the sight of your most gracious presence. I +raise fervent prayers to Heaven that the Almighty may exalt the race +of the just, and mercifully fulfill the desires of Your Majesty." + +"What force! What a style!" was uttered in approval both of reader +and of author. + +Animated by that address Anna Pavlovna's guests talked for a long +time of the state of the fatherland and offered various conjectures as +to the result of the battle to be fought in a few days. + +"You will see," said Anna Pavlovna, "that tomorrow, on the Emperor's +birthday, we shall receive news. I have a favorable presentiment!" + +CHAPTER II + +Anna Pavlovna's presentiment was in fact fulfilled. Next day +during the service at the palace church in honor of the Emperor's +birthday, Prince Volkonski was called out of the church and received a +dispatch from Prince Kutuzov. It was Kutuzov's report, written from +Tatarinova on the day of the battle. Kutuzov wrote that the Russians +had not retreated a step, that the French losses were much heavier +than ours, and that he was writing in haste from the field of battle +before collecting full information. It followed that there must have +been a victory. And at once, without leaving the church, thanks were +rendered to the Creator for His help and for the victory. + +Anna Pavlovna's presentiment was justified, and all that morning a +joyously festive mood reigned in the city. Everyone believed the +victory to have been complete, and some even spoke of Napoleon's +having been captured, of his deposition, and of the choice of a new +ruler for France. + +It is very difficult for events to be reflected in their real +strength and completeness amid the conditions of court life and far +from the scene of action. General events involuntarily group +themselves around some particular incident. So now the courtiers' +pleasure was based as much on the fact that the news had arrived on +the Emperor's birthday as on the fact of the victory itself. It was +like a successfully arranged surprise. Mention was made in Kutuzov's +report of the Russian losses, among which figured the names of +Tuchkov, Bagration, and Kutaysov. In the Petersburg world this sad +side of the affair again involuntarily centered round a single +incident: Kutaysov's death. Everybody knew him, the Emperor liked him, +and he was young and interesting. That day everyone met with the +words: + +"What a wonderful coincidence! Just during the service. But what a +loss Kutaysov is! How sorry I am!" + +"What did I tell about Kutuzov?" Prince Vasili now said with a +prophet's pride. "I always said he was the only man capable of +defeating Napoleon." + +But next day no news arrived from the army and the public mood +grew anxious. The courtiers suffered because of the suffering the +suspense occasioned the Emperor. + +"Fancy the Emperor's position!" said they, and instead of +extolling Kutuzov as they had done the day before, they condemned +him as the cause of the Emperor's anxiety. That day Prince Vasili no +longer boasted of his protege Kutuzov, but remained silent when the +commander in chief was mentioned. Moreover, toward evening, as if +everything conspired to make Petersburg society anxious and uneasy, +a terrible piece of news was added. Countess Helene Bezukhova had +suddenly died of that terrible malady it had been so agreeable to +mention. Officially, at large gatherings, everyone said that +Countess Bezukhova had died of a terrible attack of angina pectoris, +but in intimate circles details were mentioned of how the private +physician of the Queen of Spain had prescribed small doses of a +certain drug to produce a certain effect; but Helene, tortured by +the fact that the old count suspected her and that her husband to whom +she had written (that wretched, profligate Pierre) had not replied, +had suddenly taken a very large dose of the drug, and had died in +agony before assistance could be rendered her. It was said that Prince +Vasili and the old count had turned upon the Italian, but the latter +had produced such letters from the unfortunate deceased that they +had immediately let the matter drop. + +Talk in general centered round three melancholy facts: the Emperor's +lack of news, the loss of Kutuzov, and the death of Helene. + +On the third day after Kutuzov's report a country gentleman +arrived from Moscow, and news of the surrender of Moscow to the French +spread through the whole town. This was terrible! What a position +for the Emperor to be in! Kutuzov was a traitor, and Prince Vasili +during the visits of condolence paid to him on the occasion of his +daughter's death said of Kutuzov, whom he had formerly praised (it was +excusable for him in his grief to forget what he had said), that it +was impossible to expect anything else from a blind and depraved old +man. + +"I only wonder that the fate of Russia could have been entrusted +to such a man." + +As long as this news remained unofficial it was possible to doubt +it, but the next day the following communication was received from +Count Rostopchin: + +Prince Kutuzov's adjutant has brought me a letter in which he +demands police officers to guide the army to the Ryazan road. He +writes that he is regretfully abandoning Moscow. Sire! Kutuzov's +action decides the fate of the capital and of your empire! Russia will +shudder to learn of the abandonment of the city in which her greatness +is centered and in which lie the ashes of your ancestors! I shall +follow the army. I have had everything removed, and it only remains +for me to weep over the fate of my fatherland. + +On receiving this dispatch the Emperor sent Prince Volkonski to +Kutuzov with the following rescript: + +Prince Michael Ilarionovich! Since the twenty-ninth of August I have +received no communication from you, yet on the first of September I +received from the commander in chief of Moscow, via Yaroslavl, the sad +news that you, with the army, have decided to abandon Moscow. You +can yourself imagine the effect this news has had on me, and your +silence increases my astonishment. I am sending this by +Adjutant-General Prince Volkonski, to hear from you the situation of +the army and the reasons that have induced you to take this melancholy +decision. + +CHAPTER III + +Nine days after the abandonment of Moscow, a messenger from +Kutuzov reached Petersburg with the official announcement of that +event. This messenger was Michaud, a Frenchman who did not know +Russian, but who was quoique etranger, russe de coeur et d'ame,~^ as he +said of himself. + +^~ Though a foreigner, Russian in heart and soul. + +The Emperor at once received this messenger in his study at the +palace on Stone Island. Michaud, who had never seen Moscow before +the campaign and who did not know Russian, yet felt deeply moved (as +he wrote) when he appeared before notre tres gracieux souverain~^ +with the news of the burning of Moscow, dont les flammes eclairaient +sa route.~^ + +^~ Our most gracious sovereign. + +^~ Whose flames illumined his route. + +Though the source of M. Michaud's chagrin must have been different +from that which caused Russians to grieve, he had such a sad face when +shown into the Emperor's study that the latter at once asked: + +"Have you brought me sad news, Colonel?" + +"Very sad, sire," replied Michaud, lowering his eyes with a sigh. +"The abandonment of Moscow." + +"Have they surrendered my ancient capital without a battle?" asked +the Emperor quickly, his face suddenly flushing. + +Michaud respectfully delivered the message Kutuzov had entrusted +to him, which was that it had been impossible to fight before +Moscow, and that as the only remaining choice was between losing the +army as well as Moscow, or losing Moscow alone, the field marshal +had to choose the latter. + +The Emperor listened in silence, not looking at Michaud. + +"Has the enemy entered the city?" he asked. + +"Yes, sire, and Moscow is now in ashes. I left it all in flames," +replied Michaud in a decided tone, but glancing at the Emperor he +was frightened by what he had done. + +The Emperor began to breathe heavily and rapidly, his lower lip +trembled, and tears instantly appeared in his fine blue eyes. + +But this lasted only a moment. He suddenly frowned, as if blaming +himself for his weakness, and raising his head addressed Michaud in +a firm voice: + +"I see, Colonel, from all that is happening, that Providence +requires great sacrifices of us... I am ready to submit myself in +all things to His will; but tell me, Michaud, how did you leave the +army when it saw my ancient capital abandoned without a battle? Did +you not notice discouragement?..." + +Seeing that his most gracious ruler was calm once more, Michaud also +grew calm, but was not immediately ready to reply to the Emperor's +direct and relevant question which required a direct answer. + +"Sire, will you allow me to speak frankly as befits a loyal +soldier?" he asked to gain time. + +"Colonel, I always require it," replied the Emperor. "Conceal +nothing from me, I wish to know absolutely how things are." + +"Sire!" said Michaud with a subtle, scarcely perceptible smile on +his lips, having now prepared a well-phrased reply, "sire, I left +the whole army, from its chiefs to the lowest soldier, without +exception in desperate and agonized terror..." + +"How is that?" the Emperor interrupted him, frowning sternly. "Would +misfortune make my Russians lose heart?... Never!" + +Michaud had only waited for this to bring out the phrase he had +prepared. + +"Sire," he said, with respectful playfulness, "they are only +afraid lest Your Majesty, in the goodness of your heart, should +allow yourself to be persuaded to make peace. They are burning for the +combat," declared this representative of the Russian nation, "and to +prove to Your Majesty by the sacrifice of their lives how devoted they +are...." + +"Ah!" said the Emperor reassured, and with a kindly gleam in his +eyes, he patted Michaud on the shoulder. "You set me at ease, +Colonel." + +He bent his head and was silent for some time. + +"Well, then, go back to the army," he said, drawing himself up to +his full height and addressing Michaud with a gracious and majestic +gesture, "and tell our brave men and all my good subjects wherever you +go that when I have not a soldier left I shall put myself at the +head of my beloved nobility and my good peasants and so use the last +resources of my empire. It still offers me more than my enemies +suppose," said the Emperor growing more and more animated; "but should +it ever be ordained by Divine Providence," he continued, raising to +heaven his fine eyes shining with emotion, "that my dynasty should +cease to reign on the throne of my ancestors, then after exhausting +all the means at my command, I shall let my beard grow to here" (he +pointed halfway down his chest) "and go and eat potatoes with the +meanest of my peasants, rather than sign the disgrace of my country +and of my beloved people whose sacrifices I know how to appreciate." + +Having uttered these words in an agitated voice the Emperor suddenly +turned away as if to hide from Michaud the tears that rose to his +eyes, and went to the further end of his study. Having stood there a +few moments, he strode back to Michaud and pressed his arm below the +elbow with a vigorous movement. The Emperor's mild and handsome face +was flushed and his eyes gleamed with resolution and anger. + +"Colonel Michaud, do not forget what I say to you here, perhaps we +may recall it with pleasure someday... Napoleon or I," said the +Emperor, touching his breast. "We can no longer both reign together. I +have learned to know him, and he will not deceive me any more...." + +And the Emperor paused, with a frown. + +When he heard these words and saw the expression of firm +resolution in the Emperor's eyes, Michaud- quoique etranger, russe +de coeur et d'ame- at that solemn moment felt himself enraptured by +all that he had heard (as he used afterwards to say), and gave +expression to his own feelings and those of the Russian people whose +representative he considered himself to be, in the following words: + +"Sire!" said he, "Your Majesty is at this moment signing the glory +of the nation and the salvation of Europe!" + +With an inclination of the head the Emperor dismissed him. + +CHAPTER IV + +It is natural for us who were not living in those days to imagine +that when half Russia had been conquered and the inhabitants were +ficeing to distant provinces, and one levy after another was being +raised for the defense of the fatherland, all Russians from the +greatest to the least were solely engaged in sacrificing themselves, +saving their fatherland, or weeping over its downfall. The tales and +descriptions of that time without exception speak only of the +self-sacrifice, patriotic devotion, despair, grief, and the heroism of +the Russians. But it was not really so. It appears so to us because we +see only the general historic interest of that time and do not see all +the personal human interests that people had. Yet in reality those +personal interests of the moment so much transcend the general +interests that they always prevent the public interest from being felt +or even noticed. Most of the people at that time paid no attention +to the general progress of events but were guided only by their +private interests, and they were the very people whose activities at +that period were most useful. + +Those who tried to understand the general course of events and to +take part in it by self-sacrifice and heroism were the most useless +members of society, they saw everything upside down, and all they +did for the common good turned out to be useless and foolish- like +Pierre's and Mamonov's regiments which looted Russian villages, and +the lint the young ladies prepared and that never reached the wounded, +and so on. Even those, fond of intellectual talk and of expressing +their feelings, who discussed Russia's position at the time +involuntarily introduced into their conversation either a shade of +pretense and falsehood or useless condemnation and anger directed +against people accused of actions no one could possibly be guilty +of. In historic events the rule forbidding us to eat of the fruit of +the Tree of Knowledge is specially applicable. Only unconscious action +bears fruit, and he who plays a part in an historic event never +understands its significance. If he tries to realize it his efforts +are fruitless. + +The more closely a man was engaged in the events then taking place +in Russia the less did he realize their significance. In Petersburg +and in the provinces at a distance from Moscow, ladies, and +gentlemen in militia uniforms, wept for Russia and its ancient capital +and talked of self-sacrifice and so on; but in the army which +retired beyond Moscow there was little talk or thought of Moscow, +and when they caught sight of its burned ruins no one swore to be +avenged on the French, but they thought about their next pay, their +next quarters, of Matreshka the vivandiere, and like matters. + +As the war had caught him in the service, Nicholas Rostov took a +close and prolonged part in the defense of his country, but did so +casually, without any aim at self-sacrifice, and he therefore looked +at what was going on in Russia without despair and without dismally +racking his brains over it. Had he been asked what he thought of the +state of Russia, he would have said that it was not his business to +think about it, that Kutuzov and others were there for that purpose, +but that he had heard that the regiments were to be made up to their +full strength, that fighting would probably go on for a long time yet, +and that things being so it was quite likely he might be in command of +a regiment in a couple of years' time. + +As he looked at the matter in this way, he learned that he was being +sent to Voronezh to buy remounts for his division, not only without +regret at being prevented from taking part in the coming battle, but +with the greatest pleasure- which he did not conceal and which his +comrades fully understood. + +A few days before the battle of Borodino, Nicholas received the +necessary money and warrants, and having sent some hussars on in +advance, he set out with post horses for Voronezh. + +Only a man who has experienced it- that is, has passed some months +continuously in an atmosphere of campaigning and war- can understand +the delight Nicholas felt when he escaped from the region covered by +the army's foraging operations, provision trains, and hospitals. When- +free from soldiers, wagons, and the filthy traces of a camp- he saw +villages with peasants and peasant women, gentlemen's country +houses, fields where cattle were grazing, posthouses with +stationmasters asleep in them, he rejoiced as though seeing all this +for the first time. What for a long while specially surprised and +delighted him were the women, young and healthy, without a dozen +officers making up to each of them; women, too, who were pleased and +flattered that a passing officer should joke with them. + +In the highest spirits Nicholas arrived at night at a hotel in +Voronezh, ordered things he had long been deprived of in camp, and +next day, very clean-shaven and in a full-dress uniform he had not +worn for a long time, went to present himself to the authorities. + +The commander of the militia was a civilian general, an old man +who was evidently pleased with his military designation and rank. He +received Nicholas brusquely (imagining this to be characteristically +military) and questioned him with an important air, as if +considering the general progress of affairs and approving and +disapproving with full right to do so. Nicholas was in such good +spirits that this merely amused him. + +From the commander of the militia he drove to the governor. The +governor was a brisk little man, very simple and affable. He indicated +the stud farms at which Nicholas might procure horses, recommended +to him a horse dealer in the town and a landowner fourteen miles out +of town who had the best horses, and promised to assist him in every +way. + +"You are Count Ilya Rostov's son? My wife was a great friend of your +mother's. We are at home on Thursdays- today is Thursday, so please +come and see us quite informally," said the governor, taking leave +of him. + +Immediately on leaving the governor's, Nicholas hired post horses +and, taking his squadron quartermaster with him, drove at a gallop +to the landowner, fourteen miles away, who had the stud. Everything +seemed to him pleasant and easy during that first part of his stay +in Voronezh and, as usually happens when a man is in a pleasant +state of mind, everything went well and easily. + +The landowner to whom Nicholas went was a bachelor, an old +cavalryman, a horse fancier, a sportsman, the possessor of some +century-old brandy and some old Hungarian wine, who had a snuggery +where he smoked, and who owned some splendid horses. + +In very few words Nicholas bought seventeen picked stallions for six +thousand rubles- to serve, as he said, as samples of his remounts. +After dining and taking rather too much of the Hungarian wine, +Nicholas- having exchanged kisses with the landowner, with whom he was +already on the friendliest terms- galloped back over abominable roads, +in the brightest frame of mind, continually urging on the driver so as +to be in time for the governor's party. + +When he had changed, poured water over his head, and scented +himself, Nicholas arrived at the governor's rather late, but with +the phrase "better late than never" on his lips. + +It was not a ball, nor had dancing been announced, but everyone knew +that Catherine Petrovna would play valses and the ecossaise on the +clavichord and that there would be dancing, and so everyone had come +as to a ball. + +Provincial life in 1812 went on very much as usual, but with this +difference, that it was livelier in the towns in consequence of the +arrival of many wealthy families from Moscow, and as in everything +that went on in Russia at that time a special recklessness was +noticeable, an "in for a penny, in for a pound- who cares?" spirit, +and the inevitable small talk, instead of turning on the weather and +mutual acquaintances, now turned on Moscow, the army, and Napoleon. + +The society gathered together at the governor's was the best in +Voronezh. + +There were a great many ladies and some of Nicholas' Moscow +acquaintances, but there were no men who could at all vie with the +cavalier of St. George, the hussar remount officer, the good-natured +and well-bred Count Rostov. Among the men was an Italian prisoner, +an officer of the French army; and Nicholas felt that the presence +of that prisoner enhanced his own importance as a Russian hero. The +Italian was, as it were, a war trophy. Nicholas felt this, it seemed +to him that everyone regarded the Italian in the same light, and he +treated him cordially though with dignity and restraint. + +As soon as Nicholas entered in his hussar uniform, diffusing +around him a fragrance of perfume and wine, and had uttered the +words "better late than never" and heard them repeated several times +by others, people clustered around him; all eyes turned on him, and he +felt at once that he had entered into his proper position in the +province- that of a universal favorite: a very pleasant position, +and intoxicatingly so after his long privations. At posting +stations, at inns, and in the landowner's snuggery, maidservants had +been flattered by his notice, and here too at the governor's party +there were (as it seemed to Nicholas) an inexhaustible number of +pretty young women, married and unmarried, impatiently awaiting his +notice. The women and girls flirted with him and, from the first +day, the people concerned themselves to get this fine young +daredevil of an hussar married and settled down. Among these was the +governor's wife herself, who welcomed Rostov as a near relative and +called him "Nicholas." + +Catherine Petrovna did actually play valses and the ecossaise, and +dancing began in which Nicholas still further captivated the +provincial society by his agility. His particularly free manner of +dancing even surprised them all. Nicholas was himself rather surprised +at the way he danced that evening. He had never danced like that in +Moscow and would even have considered such a very free and easy manner +improper and in bad form, but here he felt it incumbent on him to +astonish them all by something unusual, something they would have to +accept as the regular thing in the capital though new to them in the +provinces. + +All the evening Nicholas paid attention to a blue-eyed, plump and +pleasing little blonde, the wife of one of the provincial officials. +With the naive conviction of young men in a merry mood that other +men's wives were created for them, Rostov did not leave the lady's +side and treated her husband in a friendly and conspiratorial style, +as if, without speaking of it, they knew how capitally Nicholas and +the lady would get on together. The husband, however, did not seem +to share that conviction and tried to behave morosely with Rostov. But +the latter's good-natured naivete was so boundless that sometimes even +he involuntarily yielded to Nicholas' good humor. Toward the end of +the evening, however, as the wife's face grew more flushed and +animated, the husband's became more and more melancholy and solemn, as +though there were but a given amount of animation between them and +as the wife's share increased the husband's diminished. + +CHAPTER V + +Nicholas sat leaning slightly forward in an armchair, bending +closely over the blonde lady and paying her mythological compliments +with a smile that never left his face. Jauntily shifting the +position of his legs in their tight riding breeches, diffusing an odor +of perfume, and admiring his partner, himself, and the fine outlines +of his legs in their well-fitting Hessian boots, Nicholas told the +blonde lady that he wished to run away with a certain lady here in +Voronezh. + +"Which lady?" + +"A charming lady, a divine one. Her eyes" (Nicholas looked at his +partner) "are blue, her mouth coral and ivory; her figure" (he glanced +at her shoulders) "like Diana's...." + +The husband came up and sullenly asked his wife what she was talking +about. + +"Ah, Nikita Ivanych!" cried Nicholas, rising politely, and as if +wishing Nikita Ivanych to share his joke, he began to tell him of +his intention to elope with a blonde lady. + +The husband smiled gloomily, the wife gaily. The governor's +good-natured wife came up with a look of disapproval. + +"Anna Ignatyevna wants to see you, Nicholas," said she, +pronouncing the name so that Nicholas at once understood that Anna +Ignatyevna was a very important person. "Come, Nicholas! You know +you let me call you so?" + +"Oh, yes, Aunt. Who is she?" + +"Anna Ignatyevna Malvintseva. She has heard from her niece how you +rescued her... Can you guess?" + +"I rescued such a lot of them!" said Nicholas. + +"Her niece, Princess Bolkonskaya. She is here in Voronezh with her +aunt. Oho! How you blush. Why, are...?" + +"Not a bit! Please don't, Aunt!" + +"Very well, very well!... Oh, what a fellow you are!" + +The governor's wife led him up to a tall and very stout old lady +with a blue headdress, who had just finished her game of cards with +the most important personages of the town. This was Malvintseva, +Princess Mary's aunt on her mother's side, a rich, childless widow who +always lived in Voronezh. When Rostov approached her she was +standing settling up for the game. She looked at him and, screwing +up her eyes sternly, continued to upbraid the general who had won from +her. + +"Very pleased, mon cher," she then said, holding out her hand to +Nicholas. "Pray come and see me." + +After a few words about Princess Mary and her late father, whom +Malvintseva had evidently not liked, and having asked what Nicholas +knew of Prince Andrew, who also was evidently no favorite of hers, the +important old lady dismissed Nicholas after repeating her invitation +to come to see her. + +Nicholas promised to come and blushed again as he bowed. At the +mention of Princess Mary he experienced a feeling of shyness and +even of fear, which he himself did not understand. + +When he had parted from Malvintseva Nicholas wished to return to the +dancing, but the governor's little wife placed her plump hand on his +sleeve and, saying that she wanted to have a talk with him, led him to +her sitting room, from which those who were there immediately withdrew +so as not to be in her way. + +"Do you know, dear boy," began the governor's wife with a serious +expression on her kind little face, "that really would be the match +for you: would you like me to arrange it?" + +"Whom do you mean, Aunt?" asked Nicholas. + +"I will make a match for you with the princess. Catherine Petrovna +speaks of Lily, but I say, no- the princess! Do you want me to do +it? I am sure your mother will be grateful to me. What a charming girl +she is, really! And she is not at all so plain, either." + +"Not at all," replied Nicholas as if offended at the idea. "As +befits a soldier, Aunt, I don't force myself on anyone or refuse +anything," he said before he had time to consider what he was saying. + +"Well then, remember, this is not a joke!" + +"Of course not!" + +"Yes, yes," the governor's wife said as if talking to herself. "But, +my dear boy, among other things you are too attentive to the other, +the blonde. One is sorry for the husband, really...." + +"Oh no, we are good friends with him," said Nicholas in the +simplicity of his heart; it did not enter his head that a pastime so +pleasant to himself might not be pleasant to someone else. + +"But what nonsense I have been saying to the governor's wife!" +thought Nicholas suddenly at supper. "She will really begin to arrange +a match... and Soyna...?" And on taking leave of the governor's +wife, when she again smilingly said to him, "Well then, remember!" +he drew her aside. + +"But see here, to tell the truth, Aunt..." + +"What is it, my dear? Come, let's sit down here," said she. + +Nicholas suddenly felt a desire and need to tell his most intimate +thoughts (which he would not have told to his mother, his sister, or +his friend) to this woman who was almost a stranger. When he +afterwards recalled that impulse to unsolicited and inexplicable +frankness which had very important results for him, it seemed to +him- as it seems to everyone in such cases- that it was merely some +silly whim that seized him: yet that burst of frankness, together with +other trifling events, had immense consequences for him and for all +his family. + +"You see, Aunt, Mamma has long wanted me to marry an heiress, but +the very idea of marrying for money is repugnant to me." + +"Oh yes, I understand," said the governor's wife. + +"But Princess Bolkonskaya- that's another matter. I will tell you +the truth. In the first place I like her very much, I feel drawn to +her; and then, after I met her under such circumstances- so strangely, +the idea often occurred to me: 'This is fate.' Especially if you +remember that Mamma had long been thinking of it; but I had never +happened to meet her before, somehow it had always happened that we +did not meet. And as long as my sister Natasha was engaged to her +brother it was of course out of the question for me to think of +marrying her. And it must needs happen that I should meet her just +when Natasha's engagement had been broken off... and then +everything... So you see... I never told this to anyone and never +will, only to you." + +The governor's wife pressed his elbow gratefully. + +"You know Sonya, my cousin? I love her, and promised to marry her, +and will do so.... So you see there can be no question about-" said +Nicholas incoherently and blushing. + +"My dear boy, what a way to look at it! You know Sonya has nothing +and you yourself say your Papa's affairs are in a very bad way. And +what about your mother? It would kill her, that's one thing. And +what sort of life would it be for Sonya- if she's a girl with a heart? +Your mother in despair, and you all ruined.... No, my dear, you and +Sonya ought to understand that." + +Nicholas remained silent. It comforted him to hear these arguments. + +"All the same, Aunt, it is impossible," he rejoined with a sigh, +after a short pause. "Besides, would the princess have me? And +besides, she is now in mourning. How can one think of it!" + +"But you don't suppose I'm going to get you married at once? There +is always a right way of doing things," replied the governor's wife. + +"What a matchmaker you are, Aunt..." said Nicholas, kissing her +plump little hand. + +CHAPTER VI + +On reaching Moscow after her meeting with Rostov, Princess Mary +had found her nephew there with his tutor, and a letter from Prince +Andrew giving her instructions how to get to her Aunt Malvintseva at +Voronezh. That feeling akin to temptation which had tormented her +during her father's illness, since his death, and especially since her +meeting with Rostov was smothered by arrangements for the journey, +anxiety about her brother, settling in a new house, meeting new +people, and attending to her nephew's education. She was sad. Now, +after a month passed in quiet surroundings, she felt more and more +deeply the loss of her father which was associated in her mind with +the ruin of Russia. She was agitated and incessantly tortured by the +thought of the dangers to which her brother, the only intimate +person now remaining to her, was exposed. She was worried too about +her nephew's education for which she had always felt herself +incompetent, but in the depths of her soul she felt at peace- a +peace arising from consciousness of having stifled those personal +dreams and hopes that had been on the point of awakening within her +and were related to her meeting with Rostov. + +The day after her party the governor's wife came to see +Malvintseva and, after discussing her plan with the aunt, remarked +that though under present circumstances a formal betrothal was, of +course, not to be thought of, all the same the young people might be +brought together and could get to know one another. Malvintseva +expressed approval, and the governor's wife began to speak of Rostov +in Mary's presence, praising him and telling how he had blushed when +Princess Mary's name was mentioned. But Princess Mary experienced a +painful rather than a joyful feeling- her mental tranquillity was +destroyed, and desires, doubts, self-reproach, and hopes reawoke. + +During the two days that elapsed before Rostov called, Princess Mary +continually thought of how she ought to behave to him. First she +decided not to come to the drawing room when he called to see her +aunt- that it would not be proper for her, in her deep mourning, to +receive visitors; then she thought this would be rude after what he +had done for her; then it occurred to her that her aunt and the +governor's wife had intentions concerning herself and Rostov- their +looks and words at times seemed to confirm this supposition- then +she told herself that only she, with her sinful nature, could think +this of them: they could not forget that situated as she was, while +still wearing deep mourning, such matchmaking would be an insult to +her and to her father's memory. Assuming that she did go down to see +him, Princess Mary imagined the words he would say to her and what she +would say to him, and these words sometimes seemed undeservedly cold +and then to mean too much. More than anything she feared lest the +confusion she felt might overwhelm her and betray her as soon as she +saw him. + +But when on Sunday after church the footman announced in the drawing +room that Count Rostov had called, the princess showed no confusion, +only a slight blush suffused her cheeks and her eyes lit up with a new +and radiant light. + +"You have met him, Aunt?" said she in a calm voice, unable herself +to understand that she could be outwardly so calm and natural. + +When Rostov entered the room, the princess dropped her eyes for an +instant, as if to give the visitor time to greet her aunt, and then +just as Nicholas turned to her she raised her head and met his look +with shining eyes. With a movement full of dignity and grace she +half rose with a smile of pleasure, held out her slender, delicate +hand to him, and began to speak in a voice in which for the first time +new deep womanly notes vibrated. Mademoiselle Bourienne, who was in +the drawing room, looked at Princess Mary in bewildered surprise. +Herself a consummate coquette, she could not have maneuvered better on +meeting a man she wished to attract. + +"Either black is particularly becoming to her or she really has +greatly improved without my having noticed it. And above all, what +tact and grace!" thought Mademoiselle Bourienne. + +Had Princess Mary been capable of reflection at that moment, she +would have been more surprised than Mademoiselle Bourienne at the +change that had taken place in herself. From the moment she recognized +that dear, loved face, a new life force took possession of her and +compelled her to speak and act apart from her own will. From the +time Rostov entered, her face became suddenly transformed. It was as +if a light had been kindled in a carved and painted lantern and the +intricate, skillful, artistic work on its sides, that previously +seemed dark, coarse, and meaningless, was suddenly shown up in +unexpected and striking beauty. For the first time all that pure, +spiritual, inward travail through which she had lived appeared on +the surface. All her inward labor, her dissatisfaction with herself, +her sufferings, her strivings after goodness, her meekness, love, +and self-sacrifice- all this now shone in those radiant eyes, in her +delicate smile, and in every trait of her gentle face. + +Rostov saw all this as clearly as if he had known her whole life. He +felt that the being before him was quite different from, and better +than, anyone he had met before, and above all better than himself. + +Their conversation was very simple and unimportant. They spoke of +the war, and like everyone else unconsciously exaggerated their sorrow +about it; they spoke of their last meeting- Nicholas trying to +change the subject- they talked of the governor's kind wife, of +Nicholas' relations, and of Princess Mary's. + +She did not talk about her brother, diverting the conversation as +soon as her aunt mentioned Andrew. Evidently she could speak of +Russia's misfortunes with a certain artificiality, but her brother was +too near her heart and she neither could nor would speak lightly of +him. Nicholas noticed this, as he noticed every shade of Princess +Mary's character with an observation unusual to him, and everything +confirmed his conviction that she was a quite unusual and +extraordinary being. Nicholas blushed and was confused when people +spoke to him about the princess (as she did when he was mentioned) and +even when he thought of her, but in her presence he felt quite at +ease, and said not at all what he had prepared, but what, quite +appropriately, occurred to him at the moment. + +When a pause occurred during his short visit, Nicholas, as is +usual when there are children, turned to Prince Andrew's little son, +caressing him and asking whether he would like to be an hussar. He +took the boy on his knee, played with him, and looked round at +Princess Mary. With a softened, happy, timid look she watched the +boy she loved in the arms of the man she loved. Nicholas also +noticed that look and, as if understanding it, flushed with pleasure +and began to kiss the boy with good natured playfulness. + +As she was in mourning Princess Mary did not go out into society, +and Nicholas did not think it the proper thing to visit her again; but +all the same the governor's wife went on with her matchmaking, passing +on to Nicholas the flattering things Princess Mary said of him and +vice versa, and insisting on his declaring himself to Princess Mary. +For this purpose she arranged a meeting between the young people at +the bishop's house before Mass. + +Though Rostov told the governeor's wife that he would not make any +declaration to Princess Mary, he promised to go. + +As at Tilsit Rostov had not allowed himself to doubt that what +everybody considered right was right, so now, after a short but +sincere struggle between his effort to arrange his life by his own +sense of justice, and in obedient submission to circumstances, he +chose the latter and yielded to the power he felt irresistibly +carrying him he knew not where. He knew that after his promise to +Sonya it would be what he deemed base to declare his feelings to +Princess Mary. And he knew that he would never act basely. But he also +knew (or rather felt at the bottom of his heart) that by resigning +himself now to the force of circumstances and to those who were +guiding him, he was not only doing nothing wrong, but was doing +something very important- more important than anything he had ever +done in his life. + +After meeting Princess Mary, though the course of his life went on +externally as before, all his former amusements lost their charm for +him and he often thought about her. But he never thought about her +as he had thought of all the young ladies without exception whom he +had met in society, nor as he had for a long time, and at one time +rapturously, thought about Sonya. He had pictured each of those +young ladies as almost all honest-hearted young men do, that is, as +a possible wife, adapting her in his imagination to all the conditions +of married life: a white dressing gown, his wife at the tea table, his +wife's carriage, little ones, Mamma and Papa, their relations to +her, and so on- and these pictures of the future had given him +pleasure. But with Princess Mary, to whom they were trying to get +him engaged, he could never picture anything of future married life. +If he tried, his pictures seemed incongruous and false. It made him +afraid. + +CHAPTER VII + +The dreadful news of the battle of Borodino, of our losses in killed +and wounded, and the still more terrible news of the loss of Moscow +reached Voronezh in the middle of September. Princess Mary, having +learned of her brother's wound only from the Gazette and having no +definite news of him, prepared (so Nicholas heard, he had not seen her +again himself) to set off in search of Prince Andrew. + +When he received the news of the battle of Borodino and the +abandonment of Moscow, Rostov was not seized with despair, anger, +the desire for vengeance, or any feeling of that kind, but +everything in Voronezh suddenly seemed to him dull and tiresome, and +he experienced an indefinite feeling of shame and awkwardness. The +conversations he heard seemed to him insincere; he did not know how to +judge all these affairs and felt that only in the regiment would +everything again become clear to him. He made haste to finish buying +the horses, and often became unreasonably angry with his servant and +squadron quartermaster. + +A few days before his departure a special thanksgiving, at which +Nicholas was present, was held in the cathedral for the Russian +victory. He stood a little behind the governor and held himself with +military decorum through the service, meditating on a great variety of +subjects. When the service was over the governor's wife beckoned him +to her. + +"Have you seen the princess?" she asked, indicating with a +movement of her head a lady standing on the opposite side, beyond +the choir. + +Nicholas immediately recognized Princess Mary not so much by the +profile he saw under her bonnet as by the feeling of solicitude, +timidity, and pity that immediately overcame him. Princess Mary, +evidently engrossed by her thoughts, was crossing herself for the last +time before leaving the church. + +Nicholas looked at her face with surprise. It was the same face he +had seen before, there was the same general expression of refined, +inner, spiritual labor, but now it was quite differently lit up. There +was a pathetic expression of sorrow, prayer, and hope in it. As had +occurred before when she was present, Nicholas went up to her +without waiting to be prompted by the governor's wife and not asking +himself whether or not it was right and proper to address her here +in church, and told her he had heard of her trouble and sympathized +with his whole soul. As soon as she heard his voice a vivid glow +kindled in her face, lighting up both her sorrow and her joy. + +"There is one thing I wanted to tell you, Princess," said Rostov. +"It is that if your brother, Prince Andrew Nikolievich, were not +living, it would have been at once announced in the Gazette, as he +is a colonel." + +The princess looked at him, not grasping what he was saying, but +cheered by the expression of regretful sympathy on his face. + +"And I have known so many cases of a splinter wound" (the Gazette +said it was a shell) "either proving fatal at once or being very +slight," continued Nicholas. "We must hope for the best, and I am +sure..." + +Princess Mary interrupted him. + +"Oh, that would be so dread..." she began and, prevented by +agitation from finishing, she bent her head with a movement as +graceful as everything she did in his presence and, looking up at +him gratefully, went out, following her aunt. + +That evening Nicholas did not go out, but stayed at home to settle +some accounts with the horse dealers. When he had finished that +business it was already too late to go anywhere but still too early to +go to bed, and for a long time he paced up and down the room, +reflecting on his life, a thing he rarely did. + +Princess Mary had made an agreeable impression on him when he had +met her in Smolensk province. His having encountered her in such +exceptional circumstances, and his mother having at one time mentioned +her to him as a good match, had drawn his particular attention to her. +When he met her again in Voronezh the impression she made on him was +not merely pleasing but powerful. Nicholas had been struck by the +peculiar moral beauty he observed in her at this time. He was, +however, preparing to go away and it had not entered his head to +regret that he was thus depriving himself of chances of meeting her. +But that day's encounter in church had, he felt, sunk deeper than +was desirable for his peace of mind. That pale, sad, refined face, +that radiant look, those gentle graceful gestures, and especially +the deep and tender sorrow expressed in all her features agitated +him and evoked his sympathy. In men Rostov could not bear to see the +expression of a higher spiritual life (that was why he did not like +Prince Andrew) and he referred to it contemptuously as philosophy +and dreaminess, but in Princess Mary that very sorrow which revealed +the depth of a whole spiritual world foreign to him was an +irresistible attraction. + +"She must be a wonderful woman. A real angel!" he said to himself. +"Why am I not free? Why was I in such a hurry with Sonya?" And he +involuntarily compared the two: the lack of spirituality in the one +and the abundance of it in the other- a spirituality he himself lacked +and therefore valued most highly. He tried to picture what would +happen were he free. How he would propose to her and how she would +become his wife. But no, he could not imagine that. He felt awed, +and no clear picture presented itself to his mind. He had long ago +pictured to himself a future with Sonya, and that was all clear and +simple just because it had all been thought out and he knew all +there was in Sonya, but it was impossible to picture a future with +Princess Mary, because he did not understand her but simply loved her. + +Reveries about Sonya had had something merry and playful in them, +but to dream of Princess Mary was always difficult and a little +frightening. + +"How she prayed!" he thought. "It was plain that her whole soul +was in her prayer. Yes, that was the prayer that moves mountains, +and I am sure her prayer will be answered. Why don't I pray for what I +want?" he suddenly thought. "What do I want? To be free, released from +Sonya... She was right," he thought, remembering what the governor's +wife had said: "Nothing but misfortune can come of marrying Sonya. +Muddles, grief for Mamma... business difficulties... muddles, terrible +muddles! Besides, I don't love her- not as I should. O, God! release +me from this dreadful, inextricable position!" he suddenly began to +pray. "Yes, prayer can move mountains, but one must have faith and not +pray as Natasha and I used to as children, that the snow might turn +into sugar- and then run out into the yard to see whether it had +done so. No, but I am not praying for trifles now," he thought as he +put his pipe down in a corner, and folding his hands placed himself +before the icon. Softened by memories of Princess Mary he began to +pray as he had not done for a long time. Tears were in his eyes and in +his throat when the door opened and Lavrushka came in with some +papers. + +"Blockhead! Why do you come in without being called?" cried +Nicholas, quickly changing his attitude. + +"From the governor," said Lavrushka in a sleepy voice. "A courier +has arrived and there's a letter for you." + +"Well, all right, thanks. You can go!" + +Nicholas took the two letters, one of which was from his mother +and the other from Sonya. He recognized them by the handwriting and +opened Sonya's first. He had read only a few lines when he turned pale +and his eyes opened wide with fear and joy. + +"No, it's not possible!" he cried aloud. + +Unable to sit still he paced up and down the room holding the letter +and reading it. He glanced through it, then read it again, and then +again, and standing still in the middle of the room he raised his +shoulders, stretching out his hands, with his mouth wide open and +his eyes fixed. What he had just been praying for with confidence that +God would hear him had come to pass; but Nicholas was as much +astonished as if it were something extraordinary and unexpected, and +as if the very fact that it had happened so quickly proved that it had +not come from God to whom he had prayed, but by some ordinary +coincidence. + +This unexpected and, as it seemed to Nicholas, quite voluntary +letter from Sonya freed him from the knot that fettered him and from +which there had seemed no escape. She wrote that the last +unfortunate events- the loss of almost the whole of the Rostovs' +Moscow property- and the countess' repeatedly expressed wish that +Nicholas should marry Princess Bolkonskaya, together with his +silence and coldness of late, had all combined to make her decide to +release him from his promise and set him completely free. + +It would be too painful to me to think that I might be a cause of +sorrow or discord in the family that has been so good to me (she +wrote), and my love has no aim but the happiness of those I love; +so, Nicholas, I beg you to consider yourself free, and to be assured +that, in spite of everything, no one can love you more than does + +Your Sonya + +Both letters were written from Troitsa. The other, from the +countess, described their last days in Moscow, their departure, the +fire, and the destruction of all their property. In this letter the +countess also mentioned that Prince Andrew was among the wounded +traveling with them; his state was very critical, but the doctor +said there was now more hope. Sonya and Natasha were nursing him. + +Next day Nicholas took his mother's letter and went to see +Princess Mary. Neither he nor she said a word about what "Natasha +nursing him" might mean, but thanks to this letter Nicholas suddenly +became almost as intimate with the princess as if they were relations. + +The following day he saw Princess Mary off on her journey to +Yaroslavl, and a few days later left to rejoin his regiment. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Sonya's letter written from Troitsa, which had come as an answer +to Nicholas' prayer, was prompted by this: the thought of getting +Nicholas married to an heiress occupied the old countess' mind more +and more. She knew that Sonya was the chief obstacle to this +happening, and Sonya's life in the countess' house had grown harder +and harder, especially after they had received a letter from +Nicholas telling of his meeting with Princess Mary in Bogucharovo. The +countess let no occasion slip of making humiliating or cruel allusions +to Sonya. + +But a few days before they left Moscow, moved and excited by all +that was going on, she called Sonya to her and, instead of reproaching +and making demands on her, tearfully implored her to sacrifice herself +and repay all that the family had done for her by breaking off her +engagement with Nicholas. + +"I shall not be at peace till you promise me this." + +Sonya burst into hysterical tears and replied through her sobs +that she would do anything and was prepared for anything, but gave +no actual promise and could not bring herself to decide to do what was +demanded of her. She must sacrifice herself for the family that had +reared and brought her up. To sacrifice herself for others was Sonya's +habit. Her position in the house was such that only by sacrifice could +she show her worth, and she was accustomed to this and loved doing it. +But in all her former acts of self-sacrifice she had been happily +conscious that they raised her in her own esteem and in that of +others, and so made her more worthy of Nicholas whom she loved more +than anything in the world. But now they wanted her to sacrifice the +very thing that constituted the whole reward for her self-sacrifice +and the whole meaning of her life. And for the first time she felt +bitterness against those who had been her benefactors only to +torture her the more painfully; she felt jealous of Natasha who had +never experienced anything of this sort, had never needed to sacrifice +herself, but made others sacrifice themselves for her and yet was +beloved by everybody. And for the first time Sonya felt that out of +her pure, quiet love for Nicholas a passionate feeling was beginning +to grow up which was stronger than principle, virtue, or religion. +Under the influence of this feeling Sonya, whose life of dependence +had taught her involuntarily to be secretive, having answered the +countess in vague general terms, avoided talking with her and resolved +to wait till she should see Nicholas, not in order to set him free but +on the contrary at that meeting to bind him to her forever. + +The bustle and terror of the Rostovs' last days in Moscow stifled +the gloomy thoughts that oppressed Sonya. She was glad to find +escape from them in practical activity. But when she heard of Prince +Andrew's presence in their house, despite her sincere pity for him and +for Natasha, she was seized by a joyful and superstitious feeling that +God did not intend her to be separated from Nicholas. She knew that +Natasha loved no one but Prince Andrew and had never ceased to love +him. She knew that being thrown together again under such terrible +circumstances they would again fall in love with one another, and that +Nicholas would then not be able to marry Princess Mary as they would +be within the prohibited degrees of affinity. Despite all the terror +of what had happened during those last days and during the first +days of their journey, this feeling that Providence was intervening in +her personal affairs cheered Sonya. + +At the Troitsa monastery the Rostovs first broke their journey for a +whole day. + +Three large rooms were assigned to them in the monastery hostelry, +one of which was occupied by Prince Andrew. The wounded man was much +better that day and Natasha was sitting with him. In the next room sat +the count and countess respectfully conversing with the prior, who was +calling on them as old acquaintances and benefactors of the monastery. +Sonya was there too, tormented by curiosity as to what Prince Andrew +and Natasha were talking about. She heard the sound of their voices +through the door. That door opened and Natasha came out, looking +excited. Not noticing the monk, who had risen to greet her and was +drawing back the wide sleeve on his right arm, she went up to Sonya +and took her hand. + +"Natasha, what are you about? Come here!" said the countess. + +Natasha went up to the monk for his blessing, and advised her to +pray for aid to God and His saint. + +As soon as the prior withdrew, Natasha took her friend by the hand +and went with her into the unoccupied room. + +"Sonya, will he live?" she asked. "Sonya, how happy I am, and how +unhappy!... Sonya, dovey, everything is as it used to be. If only he +lives! He cannot... because... because... of" and Natasha burst into +tears. + +"Yes! I knew it! Thank God!" murmured Sonya. "He will live." + +Sonya was not less agitated than her friend by the latter's fear and +grief and by her own personal feelings which she shared with no one. +Sobbing, she kissed and comforted Natasha. "If only he lives!" she +thought. Having wept, talked, and wiped away their tears, the two +friends went together to Prince Andrew's door. Natasha opened it +cautiously and glanced into the room, Sonya standing beside her at the +half-open door. + +Prince Andrew was lying raised high on three pillows. His pale +face was calm, his eyes closed, and they could see his regular +breathing. + +"O, Natasha!" Sonya suddenly almost screamed, catching her +companion's arm and stepping back from the door. + +"What? What is it?" asked Natasha. + +"It's that, that..." said Sonya, with a white face and trembling +lips. + +Natasha softly closed the door and went with Sonya to the window, +not yet understanding what the latter was telling her. + +"You remember," said Sonya with a solemn and frightened +expression. "You remember when I looked in the mirror for you... at +Otradnoe at Christmas? Do you remember what I saw?" + +"Yes, yes!" cried Natasha opening her eyes wide, and vaguely +recalling that Sonya had told her something about Prince Andrew whom +she had seen lying down. + +"You remember?" Sonya went on. "I saw it then and told everybody, +you and Dunyasha. I saw him lying on a bed," said she, making a +gesture with her hand and a lifted finger at each detail, "and that he +had his eyes closed and was covered just with a pink quilt, and that +his hands were folded," she concluded, convincing herself that the +details she had just seen were exactly what she had seen in the +mirror. + +She had in fact seen nothing then but had mentioned the first +thing that came into her head, but what she had invented then seemed +to her now as real as any other recollection. She not only +remembered what she had then said- that he turned to look at her and +smiled and was covered with something red- but was firmly convinced +that she had then seen and said that he was covered with a pink +quilt and that his eyes were closed. + +"Yes, yes, it really was pink!" cried Natasha, who now thought she +too remembered the word pink being used, and saw in this the most +extraordinary and mysterious part of the prediction. + +"But what does it mean?" she added meditatively. + +"Oh, I don't know, it is all so strange," replied Sonya, clutching +at her head. + +A few minutes later Prince Andrew rang and Natasha went to him, +but Sonya, feeling unusually excited and touched, remained at the +window thinking about the strangeness of what had occurred. + +They had an opportunity that day to send letters to the army, and +the countess was writing to her son. + +"Sonya!" said the countess, raising her eyes from her letter as +her niece passed, "Sonya, won't you write to Nicholas?" She spoke in a +soft, tremulous voice, and in the weary eyes that looked over her +spectacles Sonya read all that the countess meant to convey with these +words. Those eyes expressed entreaty, shame at having to ask, fear +of a refusal, and readiness for relentless hatred in case of such +refusal. + +Sonya went up to the countess and, kneeling down, kissed her hand. + +"Yes, Mamma, I will write," said she. + +Sonya was softened, excited, and touched by all that had occurred +that day, especially by the mysterious fulfillment she had just seen +of her vision. Now that she knew that the renewal of Natasha's +relations with Prince Andrew would prevent Nicholas from marrying +Princess Mary, she was joyfully conscious of a return of that +self-sacrificing spirit in which she was accustomed to live and +loved to live. So with a joyful consciousness of performing a +magnanimous deed- interrupted several times by the tears that dimmed +her velvety black eyes- she wrote that touching letter the arrival +of which had so amazed Nicholas. + +CHAPTER IX + +The officer and soldiers who had arrested Pierre treated him with +hostility but yet with respect, in the guardhouse to which he was +taken. In their attitude toward him could still be felt both +uncertainty as to who he might be- perhaps a very important person- +and hostility as a result of their recent personal conflict with him. + +But when the guard was relieved next morning, Pierre felt that for +the new guard- both officers and men- he was not as interesting as +he had been to his captors; and in fact the guard of the second day +did not recognize in this big, stout man in a peasant coat the +vigorous person who had fought so desperately with the marauder and +the convoy and had uttered those solemn words about saving a child; +they saw in him only No. 17 of the captured Russians, arrested and +detained for some reason by order of the Higher Command. If they +noticed anything remarkable about Pierre, it was only his unabashed, +meditative concentration and thoughtfulness, and the way he spoke +French, which struck them as surprisingly good. In spite of this he +was placed that day with the other arrested suspects, as the +separate room he had occupied was required by an officer. + +All the Russians confined with Pierre were men of the lowest class +and, recognizing him as a gentleman, they all avoided him, more +especially as he spoke French. Pierre felt sad at hearing them +making fun of him. + +That evening he learned that all these prisoners (he, probably, +among them) were to be tried for incendiarism. On the third day he was +taken with the others to a house where a French general with a white +mustache sat with two colonels and other Frenchmen with scarves on +their arms. With the precision and definiteness customary in +addressing prisoners, and which is supposed to preclude human frailty, +Pierre like the others was questioned as to who he was, where he had +been, with what object, and so on. + +These questions, like questions put at trials generally, left the +essence of the matter aside, shut out the possibility of that +essence's being revealed, and were designed only to form a channel +through which the judges wished the answers of the accused to flow +so as to lead to the desired result, namely a conviction. As soon as +Pierre began to say anything that did not fit in with that aim, the +channel was removed and the water could flow to waste. Pierre felt, +moreover, what the accused always feel at their trial, perplexity as +to why these questions were put to him. He had a feeling that it was +only out of condescension or a kind of civility that this device of +placing a channel was employed. He knew he was in these men's power, +that only by force had they brought him there, that force alone gave +them the right to demand answers to their questions, and that the sole +object of that assembly was to inculpate him. And so, as they had +the power and wish to inculpate him, this expedient of an inquiry +and trial seemed unnecessary. It was evident that any answer would +lead to conviction. When asked what he was doing when he was arrested, +Pierre replied in a rather tragic manner that he was restoring to +its parents a child he had saved from the flames. Why had he fought +the marauder? Pierre answered that he "was protecting a woman," and +that "to protect a woman who was being insulted was the duty of +every man; that..." They interrupted him, for this was not to the +point. Why was he in the yard of a burning house where witnesses had +seen him? He replied that he had gone out to see what was happening in +Moscow. Again they interrupted him: they had not asked where he was +going, but why he was found near the fire? Who was he? they asked, +repeating their first question, which he had declined to answer. Again +he replied that he could not answer it. + +"Put that down, that's bad... very bad," sternly remarked the +general with the white mustache and red flushed face. + +On the fourth day fires broke out on the Zubovski rampart. + +Pierre and thirteen others were moved to the coach house of a +merchant's house near the Crimean bridge. On his way through the +streets Pierre felt stifled by the smoke which seemed to hang over the +whole city. Fires were visible on all sides. He did not then realize +the significance of the burning of Moscow, and looked at the fires +with horror. + +He passed four days in the coach house near the Crimean bridge and +during that time learned, from the talk of the French soldiers, that +all those confined there were awaiting a decision which might come any +day from the marshal. What marshal this was, Pierre could not learn +from the soldiers. Evidently for them "the marshal" represented a very +high and rather mysterious power. + +These first days, before the eighth of September when the +prisoners were had up for a second examination, were the hardest of +all for Pierre. + +CHAPTER X + +On the eighth of September an officer- a very important one +judging by the respect the guards showed him- entered the coach +house where the prisoners were. This officer, probably someone on +the staff, was holding a paper in his hand, and called over all the +Russians there, naming Pierre as "the man who does not give his name." +Glancing indolently and indifferently at all the prisoners, he ordered +the officer in charge to have them decently dressed and tidied up +before taking them to the marshal. An hour later a squad of soldiers +arrived and Pierre with thirteen others was led to the Virgin's Field. +It was a fine day, sunny after rain, and the air was unusually pure. +The smoke did not hang low as on the day when Pierre had been taken +from the guardhouse on the Zubovski rampart, but rose through the pure +air in columns. No flames were seen, but columns of smoke rose on +all sides, and all Moscow as far as Pierre could see was one vast +charred ruin. On all sides there were waste spaces with only stoves +and chimney stacks still standing, and here and there the blackened +walls of some brick houses. Pierre gazed at the ruins and did not +recognize districts he had known well. Here and there he could see +churches that had not been burned. The Kremlin, which was not +destroyed, gleamed white in the distance with its towers and the +belfry of Ivan the Great. The domes of the New Convent of the Virgin +glittered brightly and its bells were ringing particularly clearly. +These bells reminded Pierre that it was Sunday and the feast of the +Nativity of the Virgin. But there seemed to be no one to celebrate +this holiday: everywhere were blackened ruins, and the few Russians to +be seen were tattered and frightened people who tried to hide when +they saw the French. + +It was plain that the Russian nest was ruined and destroyed, but +in place of the Russian order of life that had been destroyed, +Pierre unconsciously felt that a quite different, firm, French order +had been established over this ruined nest. He felt this in the +looks of the soldiers who, marching in regular ranks briskly and +gaily, were escorting him and the other criminals; he felt it in the +looks of an important French official in a carriage and pair driven by +a soldier, whom they met on the way. He felt it in the merry sounds of +regimental music he heard from the left side of the field, and felt +and realized it especially from the list of prisoners the French +officer had read out when he came that morning. Pierre had been +taken by one set of soldiers and led first to one and then to +another place with dozens of other men, and it seemed that they +might have forgotten him, or confused him with the others. But no: the +answers he had given when questioned had come back to him in his +designation as "the man who does not give his name," and under that +appellation, which to Pierre seemed terrible, they were now leading +him somewhere with unhesitating assurance on their faces that he and +all the other prisoners were exactly the ones they wanted and that +they were being taken to the proper place. Pierre felt himself to be +an insignificant chip fallen among the wheels of a machine whose +action he did not understand but which was working well. + +He and the other prisoners were taken to the right side of the +Virgin's Field, to a large white house with an immense garden not +far from the convent. This was Prince Shcherbitov's house, where +Pierre had often been in other days, and which, as he learned from the +talk of the soldiers, was now occupied by the marshal, the Duke of +Eckmuhl (Davout). + +They were taken to the entrance and led into the house one by one. +Pierre was the sixth to enter. He was conducted through a glass +gallery, an anteroom, and a hall, which were familiar to him, into a +long low study at the door of which stood an adjutant. + +Davout, spectacles on nose, sat bent over a table at the further end +of the room. Pierre went close up to him, but Davout, evidently +consulting a paper that lay before him, did not look up. Without +raising his eyes, he said in a low voice: + +"Who are you?" + +Pierre was silent because he was incapable of uttering a word. To +him Davout was not merely a French general, but a man notorious for +his cruelty. Looking at his cold face, as he sat like a stern +schoolmaster who was prepared to wait awhile for an answer, Pierre +felt that every instant of delay might cost him his life; but he did +not know what to say. He did not venture to repeat what he had said at +his first examination, yet to disclose his rank and position was +dangerous and embarrassing. So he was silent. But before he had +decided what to do, Davout raised his head, pushed his spectacles back +on his forehead, screwed up his eyes, and looked intently at him. + +"I know that man," he said in a cold, measured tone, evidently +calculated to frighten Pierre. + +The chill that had been running down Pierre's back now seized his +head as in a vise. + +"You cannot know me, General, I have never seen you..." + +"He is a Russian spy," Davout interrupted, addressing another +general who was present, but whom Pierre had not noticed. + +Davout turned away. With an unexpected reverberation in his voice +Pierre rapidly began: + +"No, monseigneur," he said, suddenly remembering that Davout was a +duke. "No, monseigneur, you cannot have known me. I am a militia +officer and have not quitted Moscow." + +"Your name?" asked Davout. + +"Bezukhov." + +"What proof have I that you are not lying?" + +"Monseigneur!" exclaimed Pierre, not in an offended but in a +pleading voice. + +Davout looked up and gazed intently at him. For some seconds they +looked at one another, and that look saved Pierre. Apart from +conditions of war and law, that look established human relations +between the two men. At that moment an immense number of things passed +dimly through both their minds, and they realized that they were +both children of humanity and were brothers. + +At the first glance, when Davout had only raised his head from the +papers where human affairs and lives were indicated by numbers, Pierre +was merely a circumstance, and Davout could have shot him without +burdening his conscience with an evil deed, but now he saw in him a +human being. He reflected for a moment. + +"How can you show me that you are telling the truth?" said Davout +coldly. + +Pierre remembered Ramballe, and named him and his regiment and the +street where the house was. + +"You are not what you say," returned Davout. + +In a trembling, faltering voice Pierre began adducing proofs of +the truth of his statements. + +But at that moment an adjutant entered and reported something to +Davout. + +Davout brightened up at the news the adjutant brought, and began +buttoning up his uniform. It seemed that he had quite forgotten +Pierre. + +When the adjutant reminded him of the prisoner, he jerked his head +in Pierre's direction with a frown and ordered him to be led away. But +where they were to take him Pierre did not know: back to the coach +house or to the place of execution his companions had pointed out to +him as they crossed the Virgin's Field. + +He turned his head and saw that the adjutant was putting another +question to Davout. + +"Yes, of course!" replied Davout, but what this "yes" meant, +Pierre did not know. + +Pierre could not afterwards remember how he went, whether it was +far, or in which direction. His faculties were quite numbed, he was +stupefied, and noticing nothing around him went on moving his legs +as the others did till they all stopped and he stopped too. The only +thought in his mind at that time was: who was it that had really +sentenced him to death? Not the men on the commission that had first +examined him- not one of them wished to or, evidently, could have done +it. It was not Davout, who had looked at him in so human a way. In +another moment Davout would have realized that he was doing wrong, but +just then the adjutant had come in and interrupted him. The +adjutant, also, had evidently had no evil intent though he might +have refrained from coming in. Then who was executing him, killing +him, depriving him of life- him, Pierre, with all his memories, +aspirations, hopes, and thoughts? Who was doing this? And Pierre +felt that it was no one. + +It was a system- a concurrence of circumstances. + +A system of some sort was killing him- Pierre- depriving him of +life, of everything, annihilating him. + +CHAPTER XI + +From Prince Shcherbatov's house the prisoners were led straight down +the Virgin's Field, to the left of the nunnery, as far as a kitchen +garden in which a post had been set up. Beyond that post a fresh pit +had been dug in the ground, and near the post and the pit a large +crowd stood in a semicircle. The crowd consisted of a few Russians and +many of Napoleon's soldiers who were not on duty- Germans, Italians, +and Frenchmen, in a variety of uniforms. To the right and left of +the post stood rows of French troops in blue uniforms with red +epaulets and high boots and shakos. + +The prisoners were placed in a certain order, according to the +list (Pierre was sixth), and were led to the post. Several drums +suddenly began to beat on both sides of them, and at that sound Pierre +felt as if part of his soul had been torn away. He lost the power of +thinking or understanding. He could only hear and see. And he had only +one wish- that the frightful thing that had to happen should happen +quickly. Pierre looked round at his fellow prisoners and scrutinized +them. + +The two first were convicts with shaven heads. One was tall and +thin, the other dark, shaggy, and sinewy, with a flat nose. The +third was a domestic serf, about forty-five years old, with grizzled +hair and a plump, well-nourished body. The fourth was a peasant, a +very handsome man with a broad, light-brown beard and black eyes. +The fifth was a factory hand, a thin, sallow-faced lad of eighteen +in a loose coat. + +Pierre heard the French consulting whether to shoot them +separately or two at a time. "In couples," replied the officer in +command in a calm voice. There was a stir in the ranks of the soldiers +and it was evident that they were all hurrying- not as men hurry to do +something they understand, but as people hurry to finish a necessary +but unpleasant and incomprehensible task. + +A French official wearing a scarf came up to the right of the row of +prisoners and read out the sentence in Russian and in French. + +Then two pairs of Frenchmen approached the criminals and at the +officer's command took the two convicts who stood first in the row. +The convicts stopped when they reached the post and, while sacks +were being brought, looked dumbly around as a wounded beast looks at +an approaching huntsman. One crossed himself continually, the other +scratched his back and made a movement of the lips resembling a smile. +With hurried hands the soldiers blindfolded them, drawing the sacks +over their heads, and bound them to the post. + +Twelve sharpshooters with muskets stepped out of the ranks with a +firm regular tread and halted eight paces from the post. Pierre turned +away to avoid seeing what was going to happen. Suddenly a crackling, +rolling noise was heard which seemed to him louder than the most +terrific thunder, and he looked round. There was some smoke, and the +Frenchmen were doing something near the pit, with pale faces and +trembling hands. Two more prisoners were led up. In the same way and +with similar looks, these two glanced vainly at the onlookers with +only a silent appeal for protection in their eyes, evidently unable to +understand or believe what was going to happen to them. They could not +believe it because they alone knew what their life meant to them, +and so they neither understood nor believed that it could be taken +from them. + +Again Pierre did not wish to look and again turned away; but again +the sound as of a frightful explosion struck his ear, and at the +same moment he saw smoke, blood, and the pale, scared faces of the +Frenchmen who were again doing something by the post, their +trembling hands impeding one another. Pierre, breathing heavily, +looked around as if asking what it meant. The same question was +expressed in all the looks that met his. + +On the faces of all the Russians and of the French soldiers and +officers without exception, he read the same dismay, horror, and +conflict that were in his own heart. "But who, after all, is doing +this? They are all suffering as I am. Who then is it? Who?" flashed +for an instant through his mind. + +"Sharpshooters of the 86th, forward!" shouted someone. The fifth +prisoner, the one next to Pierre, was led away- alone. Pierre did +not understand that he was saved, that he and the rest had been +brought there only to witness the execution. With ever-growing horror, +and no sense of joy or relief, he gazed at what was taking place. +The fifth man was the factory lad in the loose cloak. The moment +they laid hands on him he sprang aside in terror and clutched at +Pierre. (Pierre shuddered and shook himself free.) The lad was +unable to walk. They dragged him along, holding him up under the arms, +and he screamed. When they got him to the post he grew quiet, as if he +suddenly understood something. Whether he understood that screaming +was useless or whether he thought it incredible that men should kill +him, at any rate he took his stand at the post, waiting to be +blindfolded like the others, and like a wounded animal looked around +him with glittering eyes. + +Pierre was no longer able to turn away and close his eyes. His +curiosity and agitation, like that of the whole crowd, reached the +highest pitch at this fifth murder. Like the others this fifth man +seemed calm; he wrapped his loose cloak closer and rubbed one bare +foot with the other. + +When they began to blindfold him he himself adjusted the knot +which hurt the back of his head; then when they propped him against +the bloodstained post, he leaned back and, not being comfortable in +that position, straightened himself, adjusted his feet, and leaned +back again more comfortably. Pierre did not take his eyes from him and +did not miss his slightest movement. + +Probably a word of command was given and was followed by the reports +of eight muskets; but try as he would Pierre could not afterwards +remember having heard the slightest sound of the shots. He only saw +how the workman suddenly sank down on the cords that held him, how +blood showed itself in two places, how the ropes slackened under the +weight of the hanging body, and how the workman sat down, his head +hanging unnaturally and one leg bent under him. Pierre ran up to the +post. No one hindered him. Pale, frightened people were doing +something around the workman. The lower jaw of an old Frenchman with a +thick mustache trembled as he untied the ropes. The body collapsed. +The soldiers dragged it awkwardly from the post and began pushing it +into the pit. + +They all plainly and certainly knew that they were criminals who +must hide the traces of their guilt as quickly as possible. + +Pierre glanced into the pit and saw that the factory lad was lying +with his knees close up to his head and one shoulder higher than the +other. That shoulder rose and fell rhythmically and convulsively, +but spadefuls of earth were already being thrown over the whole +body. One of the soldiers, evidently suffering, shouted gruffly and +angrily at Pierre to go back. But Pierre did not understand him and +remained near the post, and no one drove him away. + +When the pit had been filled up a command was given. Pierre was +taken back to his place, and the rows of troops on both sides of the +post made a half turn and went past it at a measured pace. The +twenty-four sharpshooters with discharged muskets, standing in the +center of the circle, ran back to their places as the companies passed +by. + +Pierre gazed now with dazed eyes at these sharpshooters who ran in +couples out of the circle. All but one rejoined their companies. +This one, a young soldier, his face deadly pale, his shako pushed +back, and his musket resting on the ground, still stood near the pit +at the spot from which he had fired. He swayed like a drunken man, +taking some steps forward and back to save himself from falling. An +old, noncommissioned officer ran out of the ranks and taking him by +the elbow dragged him to his company. The crowd of Russians and +Frenchmen began to disperse. They all went away silently and with +drooping heads. + +"That will teach them to start fires," said one of the Frenchmen. + +Pierre glanced round at the speaker and saw that it was a soldier +who was trying to find some relief after what had been done, but was +not able to do so. Without finishing what he had begun to say he +made a hopeless movement with his arm and went away. + +CHAPTER XII + +After the execution Pierre was separated from the rest of the +prisoners and placed alone in a small, ruined, and befouled church. + +Toward evening a noncommissioned officer entered with two soldiers +and told him that he had been pardoned and would now go to the +barracks for the prisoners of war. Without understanding what was said +to him, Pierre got up and went with the soldiers. They took him to the +upper end of the field, where there were some sheds built of charred +planks, beams, and battens, and led him into one of them. In the +darkness some twenty different men surrounded Pierre. He looked at +them without understanding who they were, why they were there, or what +they wanted of him. He heard what they said, but did not understand +the meaning of the words and made no kind of deduction from or +application of them. He replied to questions they put to him, but +did not consider who was listening to his replies, nor how they +would understand them. He looked at their faces and figures, but +they all seemed to him equally meaningless. + +From the moment Pierre had witnessed those terrible murders +committed by men who did not wish to commit them, it was as if the +mainspring of his life, on which everything depended and which made +everything appear alive, had suddenly been wrenched out and everything +had collapsed into a heap of meaningless rubbish. Though he did not +acknowledge it to himself, his faith in the right ordering of the +universe, in humanity, in his own soul, and in God, had been +destroyed. He had experienced this before, but never so strongly as +now. When similar doubts had assailed him before, they had been the +result of his own wrongdoing, and at the bottom of his heart he had +felt that relief from his despair and from those doubts was to be +found within himself. But now he felt that the universe had crumbled +before his eyes and only meaningless ruins remained, and this not by +any fault of his own. He felt that it was not in his power to regain +faith in the meaning of life. + +Around him in the darkness men were standing and evidently something +about him interested them greatly. They were telling him something and +asking him something. Then they led him away somewhere, and at last he +found himself in a corner of the shed among men who were laughing +and talking on all sides. + +"Well, then, mates... that very prince who..." some voice at the +other end of the shed was saying, with a strong emphasis on the word +who. + +Sitting silent and motionless on a heap of straw against the wall, +Pierre sometimes opened and sometimes closed his eyes. But as soon +as he closed them he saw before him the dreadful face of the factory +lad- especially dreadful because of its simplicity- and the faces of +the murderers, even more dreadful because of their disquiet. And he +opened his eyes again and stared vacantly into the darkness around +him. + +Beside him in a stooping position sat a small man of whose +presence he was first made aware by a strong smell of perspiration +which came from him every time he moved. This man was doing +something to his legs in the darkness, and though Pierre could not see +his face he felt that the man continually glanced at him. On growing +used to the darkness Pierre saw that the man was taking off his leg +bands, and the way he did it aroused Pierre's interest. + +Having unwound the string that tied the band on one leg, he +carefully coiled it up and immediately set to work on the other leg, +glancing up at Pierre. While one hand hung up the first string the +other was already unwinding the band on the second leg. In this way, +having carefully removed the leg bands by deft circular motions of his +arm following one another uninterruptedly, the man hung the leg +bands up on some pegs fixed above his head. Then he took out a +knife, cut something, closed the knife, placed it under the head of +his bed, and, seating himself comfortably, clasped his arms round +his lifted knees and fixed his eyes on Pierre. The latter was +conscious of something pleasant, comforting, and well rounded in these +deft movements, in the man's well-ordered arrangements in his +corner, and even in his very smell, and he looked at the man without +taking his eyes from him. + +"You've seen a lot of trouble, sir, eh?" the little man suddenly +said. + +And there was so much kindliness and simplicity in his singsong +voice that Pierre tried to reply, but his jaw trembled and he felt +tears rising to his eyes. The little fellow, giving Pierre no time +to betray his confusion, instantly continued in the same pleasant +tones: + +"Eh, lad, don't fret!" said he, in the tender singsong caressing +voice old Russian peasant women employ. "Don't fret, friend- 'suffer +an hour, live for an age!' that's how it is, my dear fellow. And +here we live, thank heaven, without offense. Among these folk, too, +there are good men as well as bad," said he, and still speaking, he +turned on his knees with a supple movement, got up, coughed, and +went off to another part of the shed. + +"Eh, you rascal!" Pierre heard the same kind voice saying at the +other end of the shed. "So you've come, you rascal? She remembers... +Now, now, that'll do!" + +And the soldier, pushing away a little dog that was jumping up at +him, returned to his place and sat down. In his hands he had something +wrapped in a rag. + +"Here, eat a bit, sir," said he, resuming his former respectful tone +as he unwrapped and offered Pierre some baked potatoes. "We had soup +for dinner and the potatoes are grand!" + +Pierre had not eaten all day and the smell of the potatoes seemed +extremely pleasant to him. He thanked the soldier and began to eat. + +"Well, are they all right?" said the soldier with a smile. "You +should do like this." + +He took a potato, drew out his clasp knife, cut the potato into +two equal halves on the palm of his hand, sprinkled some salt on it +from the rag, and handed it to Pierre. + +"The potatoes are grand!" he said once more. "Eat some like that!" + +Pierre thought he had never eaten anything that tasted better. + +"Oh, I'm all right," said he, "but why did they shoot those poor +fellows? The last one was hardly twenty." + +"Tss, tt...!" said the little man. "Ah, what a sin... what a sin!" +he added quickly, and as if his words were always waiting ready in his +mouth and flew out involuntarily he went on: "How was it, sir, that +you stayed in Moscow?" + +"I didn't think they would come so soon. I stayed accidentally," +replied Pierre. + +"And how did they arrest you, dear lad? At your house?" + +"No, I went to look at the fire, and they arrested me there, and +tried me as an incendiary." + +"Where there's law there's injustice," put in the little man. + +"And have you been here long?" Pierre asked as he munched the last +of the potato. + +"I? It was last Sunday they took me, out of a hospital in Moscow." + +"Why, are you a soldier then?" + +"Yes, we are soldiers of the Apsheron regiment. I was dying of +fever. We weren't told anything. There were some twenty of us lying +there. We had no idea, never guessed at all." + +"And do you feel sad here?" Pierre inquired. + +"How can one help it, lad? My name is Platon, and the surname is +Karataev," he added, evidently wishing to make it easier for Pierre to +address him. "They call me 'little falcon' in the regiment. How is one +to help feeling sad? Moscow- she's the mother of cities. How can one +see all this and not feel sad? But 'the maggot gnaws the cabbage, +yet dies first'; that's what the old folks used to tell us," he +added rapidly. + +"What? What did you say?" asked Pierre. + +"Who? I?" said Karataev. "I say things happen not as we plan but +as God judges," he replied, thinking that he was repeating what he had +said before, and immediately continued: + +"Well, and you, have you a family estate, sir? And a house? So you +have abundance, then? And a housewife? And your old parents, are +they still living?" he asked. + +And though it was too dark for Pierre to see, he felt that a +suppressed smile of kindliness puckered the soldier's lips as he put +these questions. He seemed grieved that Pierre had no parents, +especially that he had no mother. + +"A wife for counsel, a mother-in-law for welcome, but there's none +as dear as one's own mother!" said he. "Well, and have you little +ones?" he went on asking. + +Again Pierre's negative answer seemed to distress him, and he +hastened to add: + +"Never mind! You're young folks yet, and please God may still have +some. The great thing is to live in harmony...." + +"But it's all the same now," Pierre could not help saying. + +"Ah, my dear fellow!" rejoined Karataev, "never decline a prison +or a beggar's sack!" + +He seated himself more comfortably and coughed, evidently +preparing to tell a long story. + +"Well, my dear fellow, I was still living at home," he began. "We +had a well-to-do homestead, plenty of land, we peasants lived well and +our house was one to thank God for. When Father and we went out mowing +there were seven of us. We lived well. We were real peasants. It so +happened..." + +And Platon Karataev told a long story of how he had gone into +someone's copse to take wood, how he had been caught by the keeper, +had been tried, flogged, and sent to serve as a soldier. + +"Well, lad," and a smile changed the tone of his voice "we thought +it was a misfortune but it turned out a blessing! If it had not been +for my sin, my brother would have had to go as a soldier. But he, my +younger brother, had five little ones, while I, you see, only left a +wife behind. We had a little girl, but God took her before I went as a +soldier. I come home on leave and I'll tell you how it was, I look and +see that they are living better than before. The yard full of +cattle, the women at home, two brothers away earning wages, and only +Michael the youngest, at home. Father, he says, 'All my children are +the same to me: it hurts the same whichever finger gets bitten. But if +Platon hadn't been shaved for a soldier, Michael would have had to +go.' called us all to him and, will you believe it, placed us in front +of the icons. 'Michael,' he says, 'come here and bow down to his feet; +and you, young woman, you bow down too; and you, grandchildren, also +bow down before him! Do you understand?' he says. That's how it is, +dear fellow. Fate looks for a head. But we are always judging, 'that's +not well- that's not right!' Our luck is like water in a dragnet: +you pull at it and it bulges, but when you've drawn it out it's empty! +That's how it is." + +And Platon shifted his seat on the straw. + +After a short silence he rose. + +"Well, I think you must be sleepy," said he, and began rapidly +crossing himself and repeating: + +"Lord Jesus Christ, holy Saint Nicholas, Frola and Lavra! Lord Jesus +Christ, holy Saint Nicholas, Frola and Lavra! Lord Jesus Christ, +have mercy on us and save us!" he concluded, then bowed to the ground, +got up, sighed, and sat down again on his heap of straw. "That's the +way. Lay me down like a stone, O God, and raise me up like a loaf," he +muttered as he lay down, pulling his coat over him. + +"What prayer was that you were saying?" asked Pierre. + +"Eh?" murmured Platon, who had almost fallen asleep. "What was I +saying? I was praying. Don't you pray?" + +"Yes, I do," said Pierre. "But what was that you said: Frola and +Lavra?" + +"Well, of course," replied Platon quickly, "the horses' saints. +One must pity the animals too. Eh, the rascal! Now you've curled up +and got warm, you daughter of a bitch!" said Karataev, touching the +dog that lay at his feet, and again turning over he fell asleep +immediately. + +Sounds of crying and screaming came from somewhere in the distance +outside, and flames were visible through the cracks of the shed, but +inside it was quiet and dark. For a long time Pierre did not sleep, +but lay with eyes open in the darkness, listening to the regular +snoring of Platon who lay beside him, and he felt that the world +that had been shattered was once more stirring in his soul with a +new beauty and on new and unshakable foundations. + +CHAPTER XIII + +Twenty-three soldiers, three officers, and two officials were +confined in the shed in which Pierre had been placed and where he +remained for four weeks. + +When Pierre remembered them afterwards they all seemed misty figures +to him except Platon Karataev, who always remained in his mind a +most vivid and precious memory and the personification of everything +Russian, kindly, and round. When Pierre saw his neighbor next +morning at dawn the first impression of him, as of something round, +was fully confirmed: Platon's whole figure- in a French overcoat +girdled with a cord, a soldier's cap, and bast shoes- was round. His +head was quite round, his back, chest, shoulders, and even his arms, +which he held as if ever ready to embrace something, were rounded, his +pleasant smile and his large, gentle brown eyes were also round. + +Platon Karataev must have been fifty, judging by his stories of +campaigns he had been in, told as by an old soldier. He did not +himself know his age and was quite unable to determine it. But his +brilliantly white, strong teeth which showed in two unbroken +semicircles when he laughed- as he often did- were all sound and good, +there was not a gray hair in his beard or on his head, and his whole +body gave an impression of suppleness and especially of firmness and +endurance. + +His face, despite its fine, rounded wrinkles, had an expression of +innocence and youth, his voice was pleasant and musical. But the chief +peculiarity of his speech was its directness and appositeness. It +was evident that he never considered what he had said or was going +to say, and consequently the rapidity and justice of his intonation +had an irresistible persuasiveness. + +His physical strength and agility during the first days of his +imprisonment were such that he seemed not to know what fatigue and +sickness meant. Every night before lying down, he said: "Lord, lay +me down as a stone and raise me up as a loaf!" and every morning on +getting up, he said: "I lay down and curled up, I get up and shake +myself." And indeed he only had to lie down, to fall asleep like a +stone, and he only had to shake himself, to be ready without a +moment's delay for some work, just as children are ready to play +directly they awake. He could do everything, not very well but not +badly. He baked, cooked, sewed, planed, and mended boots. He was +always busy, and only at night allowed himself conversation- of +which he was fond- and songs. He did not sing like a trained singer +who knows he is listened to, but like the birds, evidently giving vent +to the sounds in the same way that one stretches oneself or walks +about to get rid of stiffness, and the sounds were always +high-pitched, mournful, delicate, and almost feminine, and his face at +such times was very serious. + +Having been taken prisoner and allowed his beard to grow, he +seemed to have thrown off all that had been forced upon him- +everything military and alien to himself- and had returned to his +former peasant habits. + +"A soldier on leave- a shirt outside breeches," he would say. + +He did not like talking about his life as a soldier, though he did +not complain, and often mentioned that he had not been flogged once +during the whole of his army service. When he related anything it +was generally some old and evidently precious memory of his +"Christian" life, as he called his peasant existence. The proverbs, of +which his talk was full, were for the most part not the coarse and +indecent saws soldiers employ, but those folk sayings which taken +without a context seem so insignificant, but when used appositely +suddenly acquire a significance of profound wisdom. + +He would often say the exact opposite of what he had said on a +previous occasion, yet both would be right. He liked to talk and he +talked well, adorning his speech with terms of endearment and with +folk sayings which Pierre thought he invented himself, but the chief +charm of his talk lay in the fact that the commonest events- sometimes +just such as Pierre had witnessed without taking notice of them- +assumed in Karataev's a character of solemn fitness. He liked to +hear the folk tales one of the soldiers used to tell of an evening +(they were always the same), but most of all he liked to hear +stories of real life. He would smile joyfully when listening to such +stories, now and then putting in a word or asking a question to make +the moral beauty of what he was told clear to himself. Karataev had no +attachments, friendships, or love, as Pierre understood them, but +loved and lived affectionately with everything life brought him in +contact with, particularly with man- not any particular man, but those +with whom he happened to be. He loved his dog, his comrades, the +French, and Pierre who was his neighbor, but Pierre felt that in spite +of Karataev's affectionate tenderness for him (by which he +unconsciously gave Pierre's spiritual life its due) he would not +have grieved for a moment at parting from him. And Pierre began to +feel in the same way toward Karataev. + +To all the other prisoners Platon Karataev seemed a most ordinary +soldier. They called him "little falcon" or "Platosha," chaffed him +good-naturedly, and sent him on errands. But to Pierre he always +remained what he had seemed that first night: an unfathomable, +rounded, eternal personification of the spirit of simplicity and +truth. + +Platon Karataev knew nothing by heart except his prayers. When he +began to speak he seemed not to know how he would conclude. + +Sometimes Pierre, struck by the meaning of his words, would ask +him to repeat them, but Platon could never recall what he had said a +moment before, just as he never could repeat to Pierre the words of +his favorite song: native and birch tree and my heart is sick occurred +in it, but when spoken and not sung, no meaning could be got out of +it. He did not, and could not, understand the meaning of words apart +from their context. Every word and action of his was the manifestation +of an activity unknown to him, which was his life. But his life, as he +regarded it, had no meaning as a separate thing. It had meaning only +as part of a whole of which he was always conscious. His words and +actions flowed from him as evenly, inevitably, and spontaneously as +fragrance exhales from a flower. He could not understand the value +or significance of any word or deed taken separately. + +CHAPTER XIV + +When Princess Mary heard from Nicholas that her brother was with the +Rostovs at Yaroslavl she at once prepared to go there, in spite of her +aunt's efforts to dissuade her- and not merely to go herself but to +take her nephew with her. Whether it were difficult or easy, +possible or impossible, she did not ask and did not want to know: it +was her duty not only herself to be near her brother who was perhaps +dying, but to do everything possible to take his son to him, and so +she prepared to set off. That she had not heard from Prince Andrew +himself, Princess Mary attributed to his being too weak to write or to +his considering the long journey too hard and too dangerous for her +and his son. + +In a few days Princess Mary was ready to start. Her equipages were +the huge family coach in which she had traveled to Voronezh, a +semiopen trap, and a baggage cart. With her traveled Mademoiselle +Bourienne, little Nicholas and his tutor, her old nurse, three +maids, Tikhon, and a young footman and courier her aunt had sent to +accompany her. + +The usual route through Moscow could not be thought of, and the +roundabout way Princess Mary was obliged to take through Lipetsk, +Ryazan, Vladimir, and Shuya was very long and, as post horses were not +everywhere obtainable, very difficult, and near Ryazan where the +French were said to have shown themselves was even dangerous. + +During this difficult journey Mademoiselle Bourienne, Dessalles, and +Princess Mary's servants were astonished at her energy and firmness of +spirit. She went to bed later and rose earlier than any of them, and +no difficulties daunted her. Thanks to her activity and energy, +which infected her fellow travelers, they approached Yaroslavl by +the end of the second week. + +The last days of her stay in Voronezh had been the happiest of her +life. Her love for Rostov no longer tormented or agitated her. It +filled her whole soul, had become an integral part of herself, and she +no longer struggled against it. Latterly she had become convinced that +she loved and was beloved, though she never said this definitely to +herself in words. She had become convinced of it at her last interview +with Nicholas, when he had come to tell her that her brother was +with the Rostovs. Not by a single word had Nicholas alluded to the +fact that Prince Andrew's relations with Natasha might, if he +recovered, be renewed, but Princess Mary saw by his face that he +knew and thought of this. + +Yet in spite of that, his relation to her- considerate, delicate, +and loving- not only remained unchanged, but it sometimes seemed to +Princess Mary that he was even glad that the family connection between +them allowed him to express his friendship more freely. She knew +that she loved for the first and only time in her life and felt that +she was beloved, and was happy in regard to it. + +But this happiness on one side of her spiritual nature did not +prevent her feeling grief for her brother with full force; on the +contrary, that spiritual tranquility on the one side made it the +more possible for her to give full play to her feeling for her +brother. That feeling was so strong at the moment of leaving +Voronezh that those who saw her off, as they looked at her careworn, +despairing face, felt sure she would fall ill on the journey. But +the very difficulties and preoccupations of the journey, which she +took so actively in hand, saved her for a while from her grief and +gave her strength. + +As always happens when traveling, Princess Mary thought only of +the journey itself, forgetting its object. But as she approached +Yaroslavl the thought of what might await her there- not after many +days, but that very evening- again presented itself to her and her +agitation increased to its utmost limit. + +The courier who had been sent on in advance to find out where the +Rostovs were staying in Yaroslavl, and in what condition Prince Andrew +was, when he met the big coach just entering the town gates was +appalled by the terrible pallor of the princess' face that looked +out at him from the window. + +"I have found out everything, your excellency: the Rostovs are +staying at the merchant Bronnikov's house, in the Square not far +from here, right above the Volga," said the courier. + +Princess Mary looked at him with frightened inquiry, not +understanding why he did not reply to what she chiefly wanted to know: +how was her brother? Mademoiselle Bourienne put that question for her. + +"How is the prince?" she asked. + +"His excellency is staying in the same house with them." + +"Then he is alive," thought Princess Mary, and asked in a low voice: +"How is he?" + +"The servants say he is still the same." + +What "still the same" might mean Princess Mary did not ask, but with +an unnoticed glance at little seven-year-old Nicholas, who was sitting +in front of her looking with pleasure at the town, she bowed her +head and did not raise it again till the heavy coach, rumbling, +shaking and swaying, came to a stop. The carriage steps clattered as +they were let down. + +The carriage door was opened. On the left there was water- a great +river- and on the right a porch. There were people at the entrance: +servants, and a rosy girl with a large plait of black hair, smiling as +it seemed to Princess Mary in an unpleasantly affected way. (This +was Sonya.) Princess Mary ran up the steps. "This way, this way!" said +the girl, with the same artificial smile, and the princess found +herself in the hall facing an elderly woman of Oriental type, who came +rapidly to meet her with a look of emotion. This was the countess. She +embraced Princess Mary and kissed her. + +"Mon enfant!" she muttered, "je vous aime et vous connais depuis +longtemps."~^ + +^~ "My child! I love you and have known you a long time." + +Despite her excitement, Princess Mary realized that this was the +countess and that it was necessary to say something to her. Hardly +knowing how she did it, she contrived to utter a few polite phrases in +French in the same tone as those that had been addressed to her, and +asked: "How is he?" + +"The doctor says that he is not in danger," said the countess, but +as she spoke she raised her eyes with a sigh, and her gesture conveyed +a contradiction of her words. + +"Where is he? Can I see him- can I?" asked the princess. + +"One moment, Princess, one moment, my dear! Is this his son?" said +the countess, turning to little Nicholas who was coming in with +Dessalles. "There will be room for everybody, this is a big house. Oh, +what a lovely boy!" + +The countess took Princess Mary into the drawing room, where Sonya +was talking to Mademoiselle Bourienne. The countess caressed the +boy, and the old count came in and welcomed the princess. He had +changed very much since Princess Mary had last seen him. Then he had +been a brisk, cheerful, self-assured old man; now he seemed a pitiful, +bewildered person. While talking to Princess Mary he continually +looked round as if asking everyone whether he was doing the right +thing. After the destruction of Moscow and of his property, thrown out +of his accustomed groove he seemed to have lost the sense of his own +significance and to feel that there was no longer a place for him in +life. + +In spite of her one desire to see her brother as soon as possible, +and her vexation that at the moment when all she wanted was to see him +they should be trying to entertain her and pretending to admire her +nephew, the princess noticed all that was going on around her and felt +the necessity of submitting, for a time, to this new order of things +which she had entered. She knew it to be necessary, and though it +was hard for her she was not vexed with these people. + +"This is my niece," said the count, introducing Sonya- "You don't +know her, Princess?" + +Princess Mary turned to Sonya and, trying to stifle the hostile +feeling that arose in her toward the girl, she kissed her. But she +felt oppressed by the fact that the mood of everyone around her was so +far from what was in her own heart. + +"Where is he?" she asked again, addressing them all. + +"He is downstairs. Natasha is with him," answered Sonya, flushing. +"We have sent to ask. I think you must be tired, Princess." + +Tears of vexation showed themselves in Princess Mary's eyes. She +turned away and was about to ask the countess again how to go to +him, when light, impetuous, and seemingly buoyant steps were heard +at the door. The princess looked round and saw Natasha coming in, +almost running- that Natasha whom she had liked so little at their +meeting in Moscow long since. + +But hardly had the princess looked at Natasha's face before she +realized that here was a real comrade in her grief, and consequently a +friend. She ran to meet her, embraced her, and began to cry on her +shoulder. + +As soon as Natasha, sitting at the head of Prince Andrew's bed, +heard of Princess Mary's arrival, she softly left his room and +hastened to her with those swift steps that had sounded buoyant to +Princess Mary. + +There was only one expression on her agitated face when she ran into +the drawing room- that of love- boundless love for him, for her, and +for all that was near to the man she loved; and of pity, suffering for +others, and passionate desire to give herself entirely to helping +them. It was plain that at that moment there was in Natasha's heart no +thought of herself or of her own relations with Prince Andrew. + +Princess Mary, with her acute sensibility, understood all this at +the first glance at Natasha's face, and wept on her shoulder with +sorrowful pleasure. + +"Come, come to him, Mary," said Natasha, leading her into the +other room. + +Princess Mary raised her head, dried her eyes, and turned to +Natasha. She felt that from her she would be able to understand and +learn everything. + +"How..." she began her question but stopped short. + +She felt that it was impossible to ask, or to answer, in words. +Natasha's face eyes would eyes would have to tell her all more clearly +and profoundly. + +Natasha was gazing at her, but seemed afraid and in doubt whether to +say all she knew or not; she seemed to feel that before those luminous +eyes which penetrated into the very depths of her heart, it was +impossible not to tell the whole truth which she saw. And suddenly, +Natasha's lips twitched, ugly wrinkles gathered round her mouth, and +covering her face with her hands she burst into sobs. + +Princess Mary understood. + +But she still hoped, and asked, in words she herself did not trust: + +"But how is his wound? What is his general condition?" + +"You, you... will see," was all Natasha could say. + +They sat a little while downstairs near his room till they had +left off crying and were able to go to him with calm faces. + +"How has his whole illness gone? Is it long since he grew worse? +When did this happen?" Princess Mary inquired. + +Natasha told her that at first there had been danger from his +feverish condition and the pain he suffered, but at Troitsa that had +passed and the doctor had only been afraid of gangrene. That danger +had also passed. When they reached Yaroslavl the wound had begun to +fester (Natasha knew all about such things as festering) and the +doctor had said that the festering might take a normal course. Then +fever set in, but the doctor had said the fever was not very serious. + +"But two days ago this suddenly happened," said Natasha, +struggling with her sobs. "I don't know why, but you will see what +he is like." + +"Is he weaker? Thinner?" asked the princess. + +"No, it's not that, but worse. You will see. O, Mary, he is too +good, he cannot, cannot live, because..." + +CHAPTER XV + +When Natasha opened Prince Andrew's door with a familiar movement +and let Princess Mary pass into the room before her, the princess felt +the sobs in her throat. Hard as she had tried to prepare herself, +and now tried to remain tranquil, she knew that she would be unable to +look at him without tears. + +The princess understood what Natasha had meant by the words: "two +days ago this suddenly happened." She understood those words to mean +that he had suddenly softened and that this softening and gentleness +were signs of approaching death. As she stepped to the door she +already saw in imagination Andrew's face as she remembered it in +childhood, a gentle, mild, sympathetic face which he had rarely shown, +and which therefore affected her very strongly. She was sure he +would speak soft, tender words to her such as her father had uttered +before his death, and that she would not be able to bear it and +would burst into sobs in his presence. Yet sooner or later it had to +be, and she went in. The sobs rose higher and higher in her throat +as she more and more clearly distinguished his form and her +shortsighted eyes tried to make out his features, and then she saw his +face and met his gaze. + +He was lying in a squirrel-fur dressing gown on a divan, +surrounded by pillows. He was thin and pale. In one thin, +translucently white hand he held a handkerchief, while with the +other he stroked the delicate mustache he had grown, moving his +fingers slowly. His eyes gazed at them as they entered. + +On seeing his face and meeting his eyes Princess Mary's pace +suddenly slackened, she felt her tears dry up and her sobs ceased. She +suddenly felt guilty and grew timid on catching the expression of +his face and eyes. + +"But in what am I to blame?" she asked herself. And his cold, +stern look replied: "Because you are alive and thinking of the living, +while I..." + +In the deep the deep gaze that seemed to look not outwards but +inwards there was an almost hostile expression as he slowly regarded +his sister and Natasha. + +He kissed his sister, holding her hand in his as was their wont. + +"How are you, Mary? How did you manage to get here?" said he in a +voice as calm and aloof as his look. + +Had he screamed in agony, that scream would not have struck such +horror into Princess Mary's heart as the tone of his voice. + +"And have you brought little Nicholas?" he asked in the same slow, +quiet manner and with an obvious effort to remember. + +"How are you now?" said Princess Mary, herself surprised at what she +was saying. + +"That, my dear, you must ask the doctor," he replied, and again +making an evident effort to be affectionate, he said with his lips +only (his words clearly did not correspond to his thoughts): + +"Merci, chere amie, d'etre venue."~^ + +^~ "Thank you for coming, my dear." + +Princess Mary pressed his hand. The pressure made him wince just +perceptibly. He was silent, and she did not know what to say. She +now understood what had happened to him two days before. In his words, +his tone, and especially in that calm, almost antagonistic look +could be felt an estrangement from everything belonging to this world, +terrible in one who is alive. Evidently only with an effort did he +understand anything living; but it was obvious that he failed to +understand, not because he lacked the power to do so but because he +understood something else- something the living did not and could +not understand- and which wholly occupied his mind. + +"There, you see how strangely fate has brought us together," said +he, breaking the silence and pointing to Natasha. "She looks after +me all the time." + +Princess Mary heard him and did not understand how he could say such +a thing. He, the sensitive, tender Prince Andrew, how could he say +that, before her whom he loved and who loved him? Had he expected to +live he could not have said those words in that offensively cold tone. +If he had not known that he was dying, how could he have failed to +pity her and how could he speak like that in her presence? The only +explanation was that he was indifferent, because something else, +much more important, had been revealed to him. + +The conversation was cold and disconnected and continually broke +off. + +"Mary came by way of Ryazan," said Natasha. + +Prince Andrew did not notice that she called his sister Mary, and +only after calling her so in his presence did Natasha notice it +herself. + +"Really?" he asked. + +"They told her that all Moscow has been burned down, and that..." + +Natasha stopped. It was impossible to talk. It was plain that he was +making an effort to listen, but could not do so. + +"Yes, they say it's burned," he said. "It's a great pity," and he +gazed straight before him, absently stroking his mustache with his +fingers. + +"And so you have met Count Nicholas, Mary?" Prince Andrew suddenly +said, evidently wishing to speak pleasantly to them. "He wrote here +that he took a great liking to you," he went on simply and calmly, +evidently unable to understand all the complex significance his +words had for living people. "If you liked him too, it would be a good +thing for you to get married," he added rather more quickly, as if +pleased at having found words he had long been seeking. + +Princess Mary heard his words but they had no meaning for her, +except as a proof of how far away he now was from everything living. + +"Why talk of me?" she said quietly and glanced at Natasha. + +Natasha, who felt her glance, did not look at her. All three were +again silent. + +"Andrew, would you like..." Princess Mary suddenly said in a +trembling voice, "would you like to see little Nicholas? He is +always talking about you!" + +Prince Andrew smiled just perceptibly and for the first time, but +Princess Mary, who knew his face so well, saw with horror that he +did not smile with pleasure or affection for his son, but with +quiet, gentle irony because he thought she was trying what she +believed to be the last means of arousing him. + +"Yes, I shall be very glad to see him. Is he quite well?" + +When little Nicholas was brought into Prince Andrew's room he looked +at his father with frightened eyes, but did not cry, because no one +else was crying. Prince Andrew kissed him and evidently did not know +what to say to him. + +When Nicholas had been led away, Princess Mary again went up to +her brother, kissed him, and unable to restrain her tears any longer +began to cry. + +He looked at her attentively. + +"Is it about Nicholas?" he asked. + +Princess Mary nodded her head, weeping. + +"Mary, you know the Gosp..." but he broke off. + +"What did you say?" + +"Nothing. You mustn't cry here," he said, looking at her with the +same cold expression. + +When Princess Mary began to cry, he understood that she was crying +at the thought that little Nicholas would be left without a father. +With a great effort he tried to return to life and to see things +from their point of view. + +"Yes, to them it must seem sad!" he thought. "But how simple it is. + +"The fowls of the air sow not, neither do they reap, yet your Father +feedeth them," he said to himself and wished to say to Princess +Mary; "but no, they will take it their own way, they won't understand! +They can't understand that all those feelings they prize so- all our +feelings, all those ideas that seem so important to us, are +unnecessary. We cannot understand one another," and he remained +silent. + +Prince Andrew's little son was seven. He could scarcely read, and +knew nothing. After that day he lived through many things, gaining +knowledge, observation, and experience, but had he possessed all the +faculties he afterwards acquired, he could not have had a better or +more profound understanding of the meaning of the scene he had +witnessed between his father, Mary, and Natasha, than he had then. +He understood it completely, and, leaving the room without crying, +went silently up to Natasha who had come out with him and looked shyly +at her with his beautiful, thoughtful eyes, then his uplifted, rosy +upper lip trembled and leaning his head against her he began to cry. + +After that he avoided Dessalles and the countess who caressed him +and either sat alone or came timidly to Princess Mary, or to Natasha +of whom he seemed even fonder than of his aunt, and clung to them +quietly and shyly. + +When Princess Mary had left Prince Andrew she fully understood +what Natasha's face had told her. She did not speak any more to +Natasha of hopes of saving his life. She took turns with her beside +his sofa, and did not cry any more, but prayed continually, turning in +soul to that Eternal and Unfathomable, whose presence above the +dying man was now so evident. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Not only did Prince Andrew know he would die, but he felt that he +was dying and was already half dead. He was conscious of an +aloofness from everything earthly and a strange and joyous lightness +of existence. Without haste or agitation he awaited what was coming. +That inexorable, eternal, distant, and unknown the presence of which +he had felt continually all his life- was now near to him and, by +the strange lightness he experienced, almost comprehensible and +palpable... + +Formerly he had feared the end. He had twice experienced that +terribly tormenting fear of death- the end- but now he no longer +understood that fear. + +He had felt it for the first time when the shell spun like a top +before him, and he looked at the fallow field, the bushes, and the +sky, and knew that he was face to face with death. When he came to +himself after being wounded and the flower of eternal, unfettered love +had instantly unfolded itself in his soul as if freed from the bondage +of life that had restrained it, he no longer feared death and ceased +to think about it. + +During the hours of solitude, suffering, and partial delirium he +spent after he was wounded, the more deeply he penetrated into the new +principle of eternal love revealed to him, the more he unconsciously +detached himself from earthly life. To love everything and everybody +and always to sacrifice oneself for love meant not to love anyone, not +to live this earthly life. And the more imbued he became with that +principle of love, the more he renounced life and the more +completely he destroyed that dreadful barrier which- in the absence of +such love- stands between life and death. When during those first days +he remembered that he would have to die, he said to himself: "Well, +what of it? So much the better!" + +But after the night in Mytishchi when, half delirious, he had seen +her for whom he longed appear before him and, having pressed her +hand to his lips, had shed gentle, happy tears, love for a +particular woman again crept unobserved into his heart and once more +bound him to life. And joyful and agitating thoughts began to occupy +his mind. Recalling the moment at the ambulance station when he had +seen Kuragin, he could not now regain the feeling he then had, but was +tormented by the question whether Kuragin was alive. And he dared +not inquire. + +His illness pursued its normal physical course, but what Natasha +referred to when she said: "This suddenly happened," had occurred +two days before Princess Mary arrived. It was the last spiritual +struggle between life and death, in which death gained the victory. It +was the unexpected realization of the fact that he still valued life +as presented to him in the form of his love for Natasha, and a last, +though ultimately vanquished, attack of terror before the unknown. + +It was evening. As usual after dinner he was slightly feverish, +and his thoughts were preternaturally clear. Sonya was sitting by +the table. He began to doze. Suddenly a feeling of happiness seized +him. + +"Ah, she has come!" thought he. + +And so it was: in Sonya's place sat Natasha who had just come in +noiselessly. + +Since she had begun looking after him, he had always experienced +this physical consciousness of her nearness. She was sitting in an +armchair placed sideways, screening the light of the candle from +him, and was knitting a stocking. She had learned to knit stockings +since Prince Andrew had casually mentioned that no one nursed the sick +so well as old nurses who knit stockings, and that there is +something soothing in the knitting of stockings. The needles clicked +lightly in her slender, rapidly moving hands, and he could clearly see +the thoughtful profile of her drooping face. She moved, and the ball +rolled off her knees. She started, glanced round at him, and screening +the candle with her hand stooped carefully with a supple and exact +movement, picked up the ball, and regained her former position. + +He looked at her without moving and saw that she wanted to draw a +deep breath after stooping, but refrained from doing so and breathed +cautiously. + +At the Troitsa monastery they had spoken of the past, and he had +told her that if he lived he would always thank God for his wound +which had brought them together again, but after that they never spoke +of the future. + +"Can it or can it not be?" he now thought as he looked at her and +listened to the light click of the steel needles. "Can fate have +brought me to her so strangely only for me to die?... Is it possible +that the truth of life has been revealed to me only to show me that +I have spent my life in falsity? I love her more than anything in +the world! But what am I to do if I love her?" he thought, and he +involuntarily groaned, from a habit acquired during his sufferings. + +On hearing that sound Natasha put down the stocking, leaned nearer +to him, and suddenly, noticing his shining eyes, stepped lightly up to +him and bent over him. + +"You are not asleep?" + +"No, I have been looking at you a long time. I felt you come in. +No one else gives me that sense of soft tranquillity that you do... +that light. I want to weep for joy." + +Natasha drew closer to him. Her face shone with rapturous joy. + +"Natasha, I love you too much! More than anything in the world." + +"And I!"- She turned away for an instant. "Why too much?" she asked. + +"Why too much?... Well, what do you, what do you feel in your +soul, your whole soul- shall I live? What do you think?" + +"I am sure of it, sure!" Natasha almost shouted, taking hold of both +his hands with a passionate movement. + +He remained silent awhile. + +"How good it would be!" and taking her hand he kissed it. + +Natasha felt happy and agitated, but at once remembered that this +would not do and that he had to be quiet. + +"But you have not slept," she said, repressing her joy. "Try to +sleep... please!" + +He pressed her hand and released it, and she went back to the candle +and sat down again in her former position. Twice she turned and looked +at him, and her eyes met his beaming at her. She set herself a task on +her stocking and resolved not to turn round till it was finished. + +Soon he really shut his eyes and fell asleep. He did not sleep +long and suddenly awoke with a start and in a cold perspiration. + +As he fell asleep he had still been thinking of the subject that now +always occupied his mind- about life and death, and chiefly about +death. He felt himself nearer to it. + +"Love? What is love?" he thought. + +"Love hinders death. Love is life. All, everything that I +understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, +everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it +alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall +return to the general and eternal source." These thoughts seemed to +him comforting. But they were only thoughts. Something was lacking +in them, they were not clear, they were too one-sidedly personal and +brain-spun. And there was the former agitation and obscurity. He +fell asleep. + +He dreamed that he was lying in the room he really was in, but +that he was quite well and unwounded. Many various, indifferent, and +insignificant people appeared before him. He talked to them and +discussed something trivial. They were preparing to go away somewhere. +Prince Andrew dimly realized that all this was trivial and that he had +more important cares, but he continued to speak, surprising them by +empty witticisms. Gradually, unnoticed, all these persons began to +disappear and a single question, that of the closed door, superseded +all else. He rose and went to the door to bolt and lock it. Everything +depended on whether he was, or was not, in time to lock it. He went, +and tried to hurry, but his legs refused to move and he knew he +would not be in time to lock the door though he painfully strained all +his powers. He was seized by an agonizing fear. And that fear was +the fear of death. It stood behind the door. But just when he was +clumsily creeping toward the door, that dreadful something on the +other side was already pressing against it and forcing its way in. +Something not human- death- was breaking in through that door, and had +to be kept out. He seized the door, making a final effort to hold it +back- to lock it was no longer possible- but his efforts were weak and +clumsy and the door, pushed from behind by that terror, opened and +closed again. + +Once again it pushed from outside. His last superhuman efforts +were vain and both halves of the door noiselessly opened. It +entered, and it was death, and Prince Andrew died. + +But at the instant he died, Prince Andrew remembered that he was +asleep, and at the very instant he died, having made an effort, he +awoke. + +"Yes, it was death! I died- and woke up. Yes, death is an +awakening!" And all at once it grew light in his soul and the veil +that had till then concealed the unknown was lifted from his spiritual +vision. He felt as if powers till then confined within him had been +liberated, and that strange lightness did not again leave him. + +When, waking in a cold perspiration, he moved on the divan, +Natasha went up and asked him what was the matter. He did not answer +and looked at her strangely, not understanding. + +That was what had happened to him two days before Princess Mary's +arrival. From that day, as the doctor expressed it, the wasting +fever assumed a malignant character, but what the doctor said did +not interest Natasha, she saw the terrible moral symptoms which to her +were more convincing. + +From that day an awakening from life came to Prince Andrew +together with his awakening from sleep. And compared to the duration +of life it did not seem to him slower than an awakening from sleep +compared to the duration of a dream. + +There was nothing terrible or violent in this comparatively slow +awakening. + +His last days and hours passed in an ordinary and simple way. Both +Princess Mary and Natasha, who did not leave him, felt this. They +did not weep or shudder and during these last days they themselves +felt that they were not attending on him (he was no longer there, he +had left them) but on what reminded them most closely of him- his +body. Both felt this so strongly that the outward and terrible side of +death did not affect them and they did not feel it necessary to foment +their grief. Neither in his presence nor out of it did they weep, +nor did they ever talk to one another about him. They felt that they +could not express in words what they understood. + +They both saw that he was sinking slowly and quietly, deeper and +deeper, away from them, and they both knew that this had to be so +and that it was right. + +He confessed, and received communion: everyone came to take leave of +him. When they brought his son to him, he pressed his lips to the +boy's and turned away, not because he felt it hard and sad (Princess +Mary and Natasha understood that) but simply because he thought it was +all that was required of him, but when they told him to bless the boy, +he did what was demanded and looked round as if asking whether there +was anything else he should do. + +When the last convulsions of the body, which the spirit was leaving, +occurred, Princess Mary and Natasha were present. + +"Is it over?" said Princess Mary when his body had for a few minutes +lain motionless, growing cold before them. Natasha went up, looked +at the dead eyes, and hastened to close them. She closed them but +did not kiss them, but clung to that which reminded her most nearly of +him- his body. + +"Where has he gone? Where is he now?..." + +When the body, washed and dressed, lay in the coffin on a table, +everyone came to take leave of him and they all wept. + +Little Nicholas cried because his heart was rent by painful +perplexity. The countess and Sonya cried from pity for Natasha and +because he was no more. The old count cried because he felt that +before long, he, too, must take the same terrible step. + +Natasha and Princess Mary also wept now, but not because of their +own personal grief; they wept with a reverent and softening emotion +which had taken possession of their souls at the consciousness of +the simple and solemn mystery of death that had been accomplished in +their presence. + +BOOK THIRTEEN: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +Man's mind cannot grasp the causes of events in their +completeness, but the desire to find those causes is implanted in +man's soul. And without considering the multiplicity and complexity of +the conditions any one of which taken separately may seem to be the +cause, he snatches at the first approximation to a cause that seems to +him intelligible and says: "This is the cause!" In historical events +(where the actions of men are the subject of observation) the first +and most primitive approximation to present itself was the will of the +gods and, after that, the will of those who stood in the most +prominent position- the heroes of history. But we need only +penetrate to the essence of any historic event- which lies in the +activity of the general mass of men who take part in it- to be +convinced that the will of the historic hero does not control the +actions of the mass but is itself continually controlled. It may +seem to be a matter of indifference whether we understand the +meaning of historical events this way or that; yet there is the same +difference between a man who says that the people of the West moved on +the East because Napoleon wished it and a man who says that this +happened because it had to happen, as there is between those who +declared that the earth was stationary and that the planets moved +round it and those who admitted that they did not know what upheld the +earth, but knew there were laws directing its movement and that of the +other planets. There is, and can be, no cause of an historical event +except the one cause of all causes. But there are laws directing +events, and some of these laws are known to us while we are +conscious of others we cannot comprehend. The discovery of these +laws is only possible when possible when we have quite abandoned the +attempt to find the cause in the will of some one man, just as the +discovery of the laws of the motion of the planets was possible only +when men abandoned the conception of the fixity of the earth. + +The historians consider that, next to the battle of Borodino and the +occupation of Moscow by the enemy and its destruction by fire, the +most important episode of the war of 1812 was the movement of the +Russian army from the Ryazana to the Kaluga road and to the Tarutino +camp- the so-called flank march across the Krasnaya Pakhra River. They +ascribe the glory of that achievement of genius to different men and +dispute as to whom the honor is due. Even foreign historians, +including the French, acknowledge the genius of the Russian commanders +when they speak of that flank march. But it is hard to understand +why military writers, and following them others, consider this flank +march to be the profound conception of some one man who saved Russia +and destroyed Napoleon. In the first place it is hard to understand +where the profundity and genius of this movement lay, for not much +mental effort was needed to see that the best position for an army +when it is not being attacked is where there are most provisions; +and even a dull boy of thirteen could have guessed that the best +position for an army after its retreat from Moscow in 1812 was on +the Kaluga road. So it is impossible to understand by what reasoning +the historians reach the conclusion that this maneuver was a +profound one. And it is even more difficult to understand just why +they think that this maneuver was calculated to save Russia and +destroy the French; for this flank march, had it been preceded, +accompanied, or followed by other circumstances, might have proved +ruinous to the Russians and salutary for the French. If the position +of the Russian army really began to improve from the time of that +march, it does not at all follow that the march was the cause of it. + +That flank march might not only have failed to give any advantage to +the Russian army, but might in other circumstances have led to its +destruction. What would have happened had Moscow not burned down? If +Murat had not lost sight of the Russians? If Napoleon had not remained +inactive? If the Russian army at Krasnaya Pakhra had given battle as +Bennigsen and Barclay advised? What would have happened had the French +attacked the Russians while they were marching beyond the Pakhra? What +would have happened if on approaching Tarutino, Napoleon had +attacked the Russians with but a tenth of the energy he had shown when +he attacked them at Smolensk? What would have happened had the +French moved on Petersburg?... In any of these eventualities the flank +march that brought salvation might have proved disastrous. + +The third and most incomprehensible thing is that people studying +history deliberately avoid seeing that this flank march cannot be +attributed to any one man, that no one ever foresaw it, and that in +reality, like the retreat from Fili, it did not suggest itself to +anyone in its entirety, but resulted- moment by moment, step by +step, event by event- from an endless number of most diverse +circumstances and was only seen in its entirety when it had been +accomplished and belonged to the past. + +At the council at Fili the prevailing thought in the minds of the +Russian commanders was the one naturally suggesting itself, namely, +a direct retreat by the Nizhni road. In proof of this there is the +fact that the majority of the council voted for such a retreat, and +above all there is the well-known conversation after the council, +between the commander in chief and Lanskoy, who was in charge of the +commissariat department. Lanskoy informed the commander in chief +that the army supplies were for the most part stored along the Oka +in the Tula and Ryazan provinces, and that if they retreated on Nizhni +the army would be separated from its supplies by the broad river +Oka, which cannot be crossed early in winter. This was the first +indication of the necessity of deviating from what had previously +seemed the most natural course- a direct retreat on Nizhni-Novgorod. +The army turned more to the south, along the Ryazan road and nearer to +its supplies. Subsequently the in activity of the French (who even +lost sight of the Russian army), concern for the safety of the arsenal +at Tula, and especially the advantages of drawing nearer to its +supplies caused the army to turn still further south to the Tula road. +Having crossed over, by a forced march, to the Tula road beyond the +Pakhra, the Russian commanders intended to remain at Podolsk and had +no thought of the Tarutino position; but innumerable circumstances and +the reappearance of French troops who had for a time lost touch with +the Russians, and projects of giving battle, and above all the +abundance of provisions in Kaluga province, obliged our army to turn +still more to the south and to cross from the Tula to the Kaluga +road and go to Tarutino, which was between the roads along which those +supplies lay. Just as it is impossible to say when it was decided to +abandon Moscow, so it is impossible to say precisely when, or by whom, +it was decided to move to Tarutino. Only when the army had got +there, as the result of innumerable and varying forces, did people +begin to assure themselves that they had desired this movement and +long ago foreseen its result. + +CHAPTER II + +The famous flank movement merely consisted in this: after the +advance of the French had ceased, the Russian army, which had been +continually retreating straight back from the invaders, deviated +from that direct course and, not finding itself pursued, was naturally +drawn toward the district where supplies were abundant. + +If instead of imagining to ourselves commanders of genius leading +the Russian army, we picture that army without any leaders, it could +not have done anything but make a return movement toward Moscow, +describing an arc in the direction where most provisions were to be +found and where the country was richest. + +That movement from the Nizhni to the Ryazan, Tula, and Kaluga +roads was so natural that even the Russian marauders moved in that +direction, and demands were sent from Petersburg for Kutuzov to take +his army that way. At Tarutino Kutuzov received what was almost a +reprimand from the Emperor for having moved his army along the +Ryazan road, and the Emperor's letter indicated to him the very +position he had already occupied near Kaluga. + +Having rolled like a ball in the direction of the impetus given by +the whole campaign and by the battle of Borodino, the Russian army- +when the strength of that impetus was exhausted and no fresh push +was received- assumed the position natural to it. + +Kutuzov's merit lay, not in any strategic maneuver of genius, as +it is called, but in the fact that he alone understood the +significance of what had happened. He alone then understood the +meaning of the French army's inactivity, he alone continued to +assert that the battle of Borodino had been a victory, he alone- who +as commander in chief might have been expected to be eager to +attack- employed his whole strength to restrain the Russian army +from useless engagements. + +The beast wounded at Borodino was lying where the fleeing hunter had +left him; but whether he was still alive, whether he was strong and +merely lying low, the hunter did not know. Suddenly the beast was +heard to moan. + +The moan of that wounded beast (the French army) which betrayed +its calamitous condition was the sending of Lauriston to Kutuzov's +camp with overtures for peace. + +Napoleon, with his usual assurance that whatever entered his head +was right, wrote to Kutuzov the first words that occurred to him, +though they were meaningless. + +MONSIEUR LE PRINCE KOUTOUZOV: I am sending one of my +adjutants-general to discuss several interesting questions with you. I +beg your Highness to credit what he says to you, especially when he +expresses the sentiment of esteem and special regard I have long +entertained for your person. This letter having no other object, I +pray God, monsieur le Prince Koutouzov, to keep you in His holy and +gracious protection! + +NAPOLEON + +MOSCOW, OCTOBER 30, 1812 + +Kutuzov replied: "I should be cursed by posterity were I looked on +as the initiator of a settlement of any sort. Such is the present +spirit of my nation." But he continued to exert all his powers to +restrain his troops from attacking. + +During the month that the French troops were pillaging in Moscow and +the Russian troops were quietly encamped at Tarutino, a change had +taken place in the relative strength of the two armies- both in spirit +and in number- as a result of which the superiority had passed to +the Russian side. Though the condition and numbers of the French +army were unknown to the Russians, as soon as that change occurred the +need of attacking at once showed itself by countless signs. These +signs were: Lauriston's mission; the abundance of provisions at +Tarutino; the reports coming in from all sides of the inactivity and +disorder of the French; the flow of recruits to our regiments; the +fine weather; the long rest the Russian soldiers had enjoyed, and +the impatience to do what they had been assembled for, which usually +shows itself in an army that has been resting; curiosity as to what +the French army, so long lost sight of, was doing; the boldness with +which our outposts now scouted close up to the French stationed at +Tarutino; the news of easy successes gained by peasants and +guerrilla troops over the French, the envy aroused by this; the desire +for revenge that lay in the heart of every Russian as long as the +French were in Moscow, and (above all) a dim consciousness in every +soldier's mind that the relative strength of the armies had changed +and that the advantage was now on our side. There was a substantial +change in the relative strength, and an advance had become inevitable. +And at once, as a clock begins to strike and chime as soon as the +minute hand has completed a full circle, this change was shown by an +increased activity, whirring, and chiming in the higher spheres. + +CHAPTER III + +The Russian army was commanded by Kutuzov and his staff, and also by +the Emperor from Petersburg. Before the news of the abandonment of +Moscow had been received in Petersburg, a detailed plan of the whole +campaign had been drawn up and sent to Kutuzov for his guidance. +Though this plan had been drawn up on the supposition that Moscow +was still in our hands, it was approved by the staff and accepted as a +basis for action. Kutuzov only replied that movements arranged from +a distance were always difficult to execute. So fresh instructions +were sent for the solution of difficulties that might be +encountered, as well as fresh people who were to watch Kutuzov's +actions and report upon them. + +Besides this, the whole staff of the Russian army was now +reorganized. The posts left vacant by Bagration, who had been +killed, and by Barclay, who had gone away in dudgeon, had to be +filled. Very serious consideration was given to the question whether +it would be better to put A in B's place and B in D's, or on the +contrary to put D in A's place, and so on- as if anything more than +A's or B's satisfaction depended on this. + +As a result of the hostility between Kutuzov and Bennigsen, his +Chief of Staff, the presence of confidential representatives of the +Emperor, and these transfers, a more than usually complicated play +of parties was going on among the staff of the army. A was undermining +B, D was undermining C, and so on in all possible combinations and +permutations. In all these plottings the subject of intrigue was +generally the conduct of the war, which all these men believed they +were directing; but this affair of the war went on independently of +them, as it had to go: that is, never in the way people devised, but +flowing always from the essential attitude of the masses. Only in +the highest spheres did all these schemes, crossings, and +interminglings appear to be a true reflection of what had to happen. + +Prince Michael Ilarionovich! (wrote the Emperor on the second of +October in a letter that reached Kutuzov after the battle at Tarutino) +Since September 2 Moscow has been in the hands of the enemy. Your last +reports were written on the twentieth, and during all this time not +only has no action been taken against the enemy or for the relief of +the ancient capital, but according to your last report you have even +retreated farther. Serpukhov is already occupied by an enemy +detachment and Tula with its famous arsenal so indispensable to the +army, is in danger. From General Wintzingerode's reports, I see that +an enemy corps of ten thousand men is moving on the Petersburg road. +Another corps of several thousand men is moving on Dmitrov. A third +has advanced along the Vladimir road, and a fourth, rather +considerable detachment is stationed between Ruza and Mozhaysk. +Napoleon himself was in Moscow as late as the twenty-fifth. In view of +all this information, when the enemy has scattered his forces in large +detachments, and with Napoleon and his Guards in Moscow, is it +possible that the enemy's forces confronting you are so considerable +as not to allow of your taking the offensive? On the contrary, he is +probably pursuing you with detachments, or at most with an army +corps much weaker than the army entrusted to you. It would seem +that, availing yourself of these circumstances, you might +advantageously attack a weaker one and annihilate him, or at least +oblige him to retreat, retaining in our hands an important part of the +provinces now occupied by the enemy, and thereby averting danger +from Tula and other towns in the interior. You will be responsible +if the enemy is able to direct a force of any size against +Petersburg to threaten this capital in which it has not been +possible to retain many troops; for with the army entrusted to you, +and acting with resolution and energy, you have ample means to avert +this fresh calamity. Remember that you have still to answer to our +offended country for the loss of Moscow. You have experienced my +readiness to reward you. That readiness will not weaken in me, but I +and Russia have a right to expect from you all the zeal, firmness, and +success which your intellect, military talent, and the courage of +the troops you command justify us in expecting. + +But by the time this letter, which proved that the real relation +of the forces had already made itself felt in Petersburg, was +dispatched, Kutuzov had found himself unable any longer to restrain +the army he commanded from attacking and a battle had taken place. + +On the second of October a Cossack, Shapovalov, who was out +scouting, killed one hare and wounded another. Following the wounded +hare he made his way far into the forest and came upon the left +flank of Murat's army, encamped there without any precautions. The +Cossack laughingly told his comrades how he had almost fallen into the +hands of the French. A cornet, hearing the story, informed his +commander. + +The Cossack was sent for and questioned. The Cossack officers wished +to take advantage of this chance to capture some horses, but one of +the superior officers, who was acquainted with the higher authorities, +reported the incident to a general on the staff. The state of +things on the staff had of late been exceedingly strained. Ermolov had +been to see Bennigsen a few days previously and had entreated him to +use his influence with the commander in chief to induce him to take +the offensive. + +"If I did not know you I should think you did not want what you +are asking for. I need only advise anything and his Highness is sure +to do the opposite," replied Bennigsen. + +The Cossack's report, confirmed by horse patrols who were sent +out, was the final proof that events had matured. The tightly coiled +spring was released, the clock began to whirr and the chimes to +play. Despite all his supposed power, his intellect, his experience, +and his knowledge of men, Kutuzov- having taken into consideration the +Cossack's report, a note from Bennigsen who sent personal reports to +the Emperor, the wishes he supposed the Emperor to hold, and the +fact that all the generals expressed the same wish- could no longer +check the inevitable movement, and gave the order to do what he +regarded as useless and harmful- gave his approval, that is, to the +accomplished fact. + +CHAPTER IV + +Bennigsen's note and the Cossack's information that the left flank +of the French was unguarded were merely final indications that it +was necessary to order an attack, and it was fixed for the fifth of +October. + +On the morning of the fourth of October Kutuzov signed the +dispositions. Toll read them to Ermolov, asking him to attend to the +further arrangements. + +"All right- all right. I haven't time just now," replied Ermolov, +and left the hut. + +The dispositions drawn up by Toll were very good. As in the +Austerlitz dispositions, it was written- though not in German this +time: + +"The First Column will march here and here," "the Second Column will +march there and there," and so on; and on paper, all these columns +arrived at their places at the appointed time and destroyed the enemy. +Everything had been admirably thought out as is usual in dispositions, +and as is always the case, not a single column reached its place at +the appointed time. + +When the necessary number of copies of the dispositions had been +prepared, an officer was summoned and sent to deliver them to +Ermolov to deal with. A young officer of the Horse Guards, Kutuzov's +orderly, pleased at the importance of the mission entrusted to him, +went to Ermolov's quarters. + +"Gone away," said Ermolov's orderly. + +The officer of the Horse Guards went to a general with whom +Ermolov was often to be found. + +"No, and the general's out too." + +The officer, mounting his horse, rode off to someone else. + +"No, he's gone out." + +"If only they don't make me responsible for this delay! What a +nuisance it is!" thought the officer, and he rode round the whole +camp. One man said he had seen Ermolov ride past with some other +generals, others said he must have returned home. The officer searched +till six o'clock in the evening without even stopping to eat. +Ermolov was nowhere to be found and no one knew where he was. The +officer snatched a little food at a comrade's, and rode again to the +vanguard to find Miloradovich. Miloradovich too was away, but here +he was told that he had gone to a ball at General Kikin's and that +Ermolov was probably there too. + +"But where is it?" + +"Why, there, over at Echkino," said a Cossack officer, pointing to a +country house in the far distance. + +"What, outside our line?" + +"They've put two regiments as outposts, and they're having such a +spree there, it's awful! Two bands and three sets of singers!" + +The officer rode out beyond our lines to Echkino. While still at a +distance he heard as he rode the merry sounds of a soldier's dance +song proceeding from the house. + +"In the meadows... in the meadows!" he heard, accompanied by +whistling and the sound of a torban, drowned every now and then by +shouts. These sounds made his spirits rise, but at the same time he +was afraid that he would be blamed for not having executed sooner +the important order entrusted to him. It was already past eight +o'clock. He dismounted and went up into the porch of a large country +house which had remained intact between the Russian and French forces. +In the refreshment room and the hall, footmen were bustling about with +wine and viands. Groups of singers stood outside the windows. The +officer was admitted and immediately saw all the chief generals of the +army together, and among them Ermolov's big imposing figure. They +all had their coats unbuttoned and were standing in a semicircle +with flushed and animated faces, laughing loudly. In the middle of the +room a short handsome general with a red face was dancing the trepak +with much spirit and agility. + +"Ha, ha, ha! Bravo, Nicholas Ivanych! Ha, ha, ha!" + +The officer felt that by arriving with important orders at such a +moment he was doubly to blame, and he would have preferred to wait; +but one of the generals espied him and, hearing what he had come +about, informed Ermolov. + +Ermolov came forward with a frown on his face and, hearing what +the officer had to say, took the papers from him without a word. + +"You think he went off just by chance?" said a comrade, who was on +the staff that evening, to the officer of the Horse Guards, +referring to Ermolov. "It was a trick. It was done on purpose to get +Konovnitsyn into trouble. You'll see what a mess there'll be +tomorrow." + +CHAPTER V + +Next day the decrepit Kutuzov, having given orders to be called +early, said his prayers, dressed, and, with an unpleasant +consciousness of having to direct a battle he did not approve of, +got into his caleche and drove from Letashovka (a village three and +a half miles from Tarutino) to the place where the attacking columns +were to meet. He sat in the caleche, dozing and waking up by turns, +and listening for any sound of firing on the right as an indication +that the action had begun. But all was still quiet. A damp dull autumn +morning was just dawning. On approaching Tarutino Kutuzov noticed +cavalrymen leading their horses to water across the road along which +he was driving. Kutuzov looked at them searchingly, stopped his +carriage, and inquired what regiment they belonged to. They belonged +to a column that should have been far in front and in ambush long +before then. "It may be a mistake," thought the old commander in +chief. But a little further on he saw infantry regiments with their +arms piled and the soldiers, only partly dressed, eating their rye +porridge and carrying fuel. He sent for an officer. The officer +reported that no order to advance had been received. + +"How! Not rec..." Kutuzov began, but checked himself immediately and +sent for a senior officer. Getting out of his caleche, he waited +with drooping head and breathing heavily, pacing silently up and down. +When Eykhen, the officer of the general staff whom he had summoned, +appeared, Kutuzov went purple in the face, not because that officer +was to blame for the mistake, but because he was an object of +sufficient importance for him to vent his wrath on. Trembling and +panting the old man fell into that state of fury in which he sometimes +used to roll on the ground, and he fell upon Eykhen, threatening him +with his hands, shouting and loading him with gross abuse. Another +man, Captain Brozin, who happened to turn up and who was not at all to +blame, suffered the same fate. + +"What sort of another blackguard are you? I'll have you shot! +Scoundrels!" yelled Kutuzov in a hoarse voice, waving his arms and +reeling. + +He was suffering physically. He, the commander in chief, a Serene +Highness who everybody said possessed powers such as no man had ever +had in Russia, to be placed in this position- made the laughingstock +of the whole army! "I needn't have been in such a hurry to pray +about today, or have kept awake thinking everything over all night," +thought he to himself. "When I was a chit of an officer no one would +have dared to mock me so... and now!" He was in a state of physical +suffering as if from corporal punishment, and could not avoid +expressing it by cries of anger and distress. But his strength soon +began to fail him, and looking about him, conscious of having said +much that was amiss, he again got into his caleche and drove back in +silence. + +His wrath, once expended, did not return, and blinking feebly he +listened to excuses and self-justifications (Ermolov did not come to +see him till the next day) and to the insistence of Bennigsen, +Konovnitsyn, and Toll that the movement that had miscarried should +be executed next day. And once more Kutuzov had to consent. + +CHAPTER VI + +Next day the troops assembled in their appointed places in the +evening and advanced during the night. It was an autumn night with +dark purple clouds, but no rain. The ground was damp but not muddy, +and the troops advanced noiselessly, only occasionally a jingling of +the artillery could be faintly heard. The men were forbidden to talk +out loud, to smoke their pipes, or to strike a light, and they tried +to prevent their horses neighing. The secrecy of the undertaking +heightened its charm and they marched gaily. Some columns, +supposing. they had reached their destination, halted, piled arms, and +settled down on the cold ground, but the majority marched all night +and arrived at places where they evidently should not have been. + +Only Count Orlov-Denisov with his Cossacks (the least important +detachment of all) got to his appointed place at the right time. +This detachment halted at the outskirts of a forest, on the path +leading from the village of Stromilova to Dmitrovsk. + +Toward dawn, Count Orlov-Denisov, who had dozed off, was awakened by +a deserter from the French army being brought to him. This was a +Polish sergeant of Poniatowski's corps, who explained in Polish that +he had come over because he had been slighted in the service: that +he ought long ago to have been made an officer, that he was braver +than any of them, and so he had left them and wished to pay them +out. He said that Murat was spending the night less than a mile from +where they were, and that if they would let him have a convoy of a +hundred men he would capture him alive. Count Orlov-Denisov +consulted his fellow officers. + +The offer was too tempting to be refused. Everyone volunteered to go +and everybody advised making the attempt. After much disputing and +arguing, Major-General Grekov with two Cossack regiments decided to go +with the Polish sergeant. + +"Now, remember," said Count Orlov-Denisov to the sergeant at +parting, "if you have been lying I'll have you hanged like a dog; +but if it's true you shall have a hundred gold pieces!" + +Without replying, the sergeant, with a resolute air, mounted and +rode away with Grekov whose men had quickly assembled. They +disappeared into the forest, and Count Orlov-Denisov, having seen +Grekov off, returned, shivering from the freshness of the early dawn +and excited by what he had undertaken on his own responsibility, and +began looking at the enemy camp, now just visible in the deceptive +light of dawn and the dying campfires. Our columns ought to have begun +to appear on an open declivity to his right. He looked in that +direction, but though the columns would have been visible quite far +off, they were not to be seen. It seemed to the count that things were +beginning to stir in the French camp, and his keen-sighted adjutant +confirmed this. + +"Oh, it is really too late," said Count Orlov, looking at the camp. + +As often happens when someone we have trusted is no longer before +our eyes, it suddenly seemed quite clear and obvious to him that the +sergeant was an impostor, that he had lied, and that the whole Russian +attack would be ruined by the absence of those two regiments, which he +would lead away heaven only knew where. How could one capture a +commander in chief from among such a mass of troops! + +"I am sure that rascal was lying," said the count. + +"They can still be called back," said one of his suite, who like +Count Orlov felt distrustful of the adventure when he looked at the +enemy's camp. + +"Eh? Really... what do you think? Should we let them go on or not?" + +"Will you have them fetched back?" + +"Fetch them back, fetch them back!" said Count Orlov with sudden +determination, looking at his watch. "It will be too late. It is quite +light." + +And the adjutant galloped through the forest after Grekov. When +Grekov returned, Count Orlov-Denisov, excited both by the abandoned +attempt and by vainly awaiting the infantry columns that still did not +appear, as well as by the proximity of the enemy, resolved to advance. +All his men felt the same excitement. + +"Mount!" he commanded in a whisper. The men took their places and +crossed themselves.... "Forward, with God's aid!" + +"Hurrah-ah-ah!" reverberated in the forest, and the Cossack +companies, trailing their lances and advancing one after another as if +poured out of a sack, dashed gaily across the brook toward the camp. + +One desperate, frightened yell from the first French soldier who saw +the Cossacks, and all who were in the camp, undressed and only just +waking up, ran off in all directions, abandoning cannons, muskets, and +horses. + +Had the Cossacks pursued the French, without heeding what was behind +and around them, they would have captured Murat and everything +there. That was what the officers desired. But it was impossible to +make the Cossacks budge when once they had got booty and prisoners. +None of them listened to orders. Fifteen hundred prisoners and +thirty-eight guns were taken on the spot, besides standards and +(what seemed most important to the Cossacks) horses, saddles, +horsecloths, and the like. All this had to be dealt with, the +prisoners and guns secured, the booty divided- not without some +shouting and even a little themselves- and it was on this that the +Cossacks all busied themselves. + +The French, not being farther pursued, began to recover +themselves: they formed into detachments and began firing. +Orlov-Denisov, still waiting for the other columns to arrive, advanced +no further. + +Meantime, according to the dispositions which said that "the First +Column will march" and so on, the infantry of the belated columns, +commanded by Bennigsen and directed by Toll, had started in due +order and, as always happens, had got somewhere, but not to their +appointed places. As always happens the men, starting cheerfully, +began to halt; murmurs were heard, there was a sense of confusion, and +finally a backward movement. Adjutants and generals galloped about, +shouted, grew angry, quarreled, said they had come quite wrong and +were late, gave vent to a little abuse, and at last gave it all up and +went forward, simply to get somewhere. "We shall get somewhere or +other!" And they did indeed get somewhere, though not to their right +places; a few eventually even got to their right place, but too late +to be of any use and only in time to be fired at. Toll, who in this +battle played the part of Weyrother at Austerlitz, galloped +assiduously from place to place, finding everything upside down +everywhere. Thus he stumbled on Bagovut's corps in a wood when it +was already broad daylight, though the corps should long before have +joined Orlov-Denisov. Excited and vexed by the failure and supposing +that someone must be responsible for it, Toll galloped up to the +commander of the corps and began upbraiding him severely, saying +that he ought to be shot. General Bagovut, a fighting old soldier of +placid temperament, being also upset by all the delay, confusion, +and cross-purposes, fell into a rage to everybody's surprise and quite +contrary to his usual character and said disagreeable things to Toll. + +"I prefer not to take lessons from anyone, but I can die with my men +as well as anybody," he said, and advanced with a single division. + +Coming out onto a field under the enemy's fire, this brave general +went straight ahead, leading his men under fire, without considering +in his agitation whether going into action now, with a single +division, would be of any use or no. Danger, cannon balls, and bullets +were just what he needed in his angry mood. One of the first bullets +killed him, and other bullets killed many of his men. And his division +remained under fire for some time quite uselessly. + +CHAPTER VII + +Meanwhile another column was to have attacked the French from the +front, but Kutuzov accompanied that column. He well knew that +nothing but confusion would come of this battle undertaken against his +will, and as far as was in his power held the troops back. He did +not advance. + +He rode silently on his small gray horse, indolently answering +suggestions that they should attack. + +"The word attack is always on your tongue, but you don't see that we +are unable to execute complicated maneuvers," said he to +Miloradovich who asked permission to advance. + +"We couldn't take Murat prisoner this morning or get to the place in +time, and nothing can be done now!" he replied to someone else. + +When Kutuzov was informed that at the French rear- where according +to the reports of the Cossacks there had previously been nobody- there +were now two battalions of Poles, he gave a sidelong glance at Ermolov +who was behind him and to whom he had not spoken since the previous +day. + +"You see! They are asking to attack and making plans of all kinds, +but as soon as one gets to business nothing is ready, and the enemy, +forewarned, takes measures accordingly." + +Ermolov screwed up his eyes and smiled faintly on hearing these +words. He understood that for him the storm had blown over, and that +Kutuzov would content himself with that hint. + +"He's having a little fun at my expense," said Ermolov softly, +nudging with his knee Raevski who was at his side. + +Soon after this, Ermolov moved up to Kutuzov and respectfully +remarked: + +"It is not too late yet, your Highness- the enemy has not gone away- +if you were to order an attack! If not, the Guards will not so much as +see a little smoke." + +Kutuzov did not reply, but when they reported to him that Murat's +troops were in retreat he ordered an advance, though at every +hundred paces he halted for three quarters of an hour. + +The whole battle consisted in what Orlov-Denisov's Cossacks had +done: the rest of the army merely lost some hundreds of men uselessly. + +In consequence of this battle Kutuzov received a diamond decoration, +and Bennigsen some diamonds and a hundred thousand rubles, others also +received pleasant recognitions corresponding to their various +grades, and following the battle fresh changes were made in the staff. + +"That's how everything is done with us, all topsy-turvy!" said the +Russian officers and generals after the Tarutino battle, letting it be +understood that some fool there is doing things all wrong but that +we ourselves should not have done so, just as people speak today. +But people who talk like that either do not know what they are talking +about or deliberately deceive themselves. No battle- Tarutino, +Borodino, or Austerlitz- takes place as those who planned it +anticipated. That is an essential condition. + +A countless number of free forces (for nowhere is man freer than +during a battle, where it is a question of life and death) influence +the course taken by the fight, and that course never can be known in +advance and never coincides with the direction of any one force. + +If many simultaneously and variously directed forces act on a +given body, the direction of its motion cannot coincide with any one +of those forces, but will always be a mean- what in mechanics is +represented by the diagonal of a parallelogram of forces. + +If in the descriptions given by historians, especially French +ones, we find their wars and battles carried out in accordance with +previously formed plans, the only conclusion to be drawn is that those +descriptions are false. + +The battle of Tarutino obviously did not attain the aim Toll had +in view- to lead the troops into action in the order prescribed by the +dispositions; nor that which Count Orlov-Denisov may have had in view- +to take Murat prisoner; nor the result of immediately destroying the +whole corps, which Bennigsen and others may have had in view; nor +the aim of the officer who wished to go into action to distinguish +himself; nor that of the Cossack who wanted more booty than he got, +and so on. But if the aim of the battle was what actually resulted and +what all the Russians of that day desired- to drive the French out +of Russia and destroy their army- it is quite clear that the battle of +Tarutino, just because of its incongruities, was exactly what was +wanted at that stage of the campaign. It would be difficult and even +impossible to imagine any result more opportune than the actual +outcome of this battle. With a minimum of effort and insignificant +losses, despite the greatest confusion, the most important results +of the whole campaign were attained: the transition from retreat to +advance, an exposure of the weakness of the French, and the +administration of that shock which Napoleon's army had only awaited to +begin its flight. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Napoleon enters Moscow after the brilliant victory de la Moskowa; +there can be no doubt about the victory for the battlefield remains in +the hands of the French. The Russians retreat and abandon their +ancient capital. Moscow, abounding in provisions, arms, munitions, and +incalculable wealth, is in Napoleon's hands. The Russian army, only +half the strength of the French, does not make a single attempt to +attack for a whole month. Napoleon's position is most brilliant. He +can either fall on the Russian army with double its strength and +destroy it; negotiate an advantageous peace, or in case of a refusal +make a menacing move on Petersburg, or even, in the case of a reverse, +return to Smolensk or Vilna; or remain in Moscow; in short, no special +genius would seem to be required to retain the brilliant position +the French held at that time. For that, only very simple and easy +steps were necessary: not to allow the troops to loot, to prepare +winter clothing- of which there was sufficient in Moscow for the whole +army- and methodically to collect the provisions, of which +(according to the French historians) there were enough in Moscow to +supply the whole army for six months. Yet Napoleon, that greatest of +all geniuses, who the historians declare had control of the army, took +none of these steps. + +He not merely did nothing of the kind, but on the contrary he used +his power to select the most foolish and ruinous of all the courses +open to him. Of all that Napoleon might have done: wintering in +Moscow, advancing on Petersburg or on Nizhni-Novgorod, or retiring +by a more northerly or more southerly route (say by the road Kutuzov +afterwards took), nothing more stupid or disastrous can be imagined +than what he actually did. He remained in Moscow till October, letting +the troops plunder the city; then, hesitating whether to leave a +garrison behind him, he quitted Moscow, approached Kutuzov without +joining battle, turned to the right and reached Malo-Yaroslavets, +again without attempting to break through and take the road Kutuzov +took, but retiring instead to Mozhaysk along the devastated Smolensk +road. Nothing more stupid than that could have been devised, or more +disastrous for the army, as the sequel showed. Had Napoleon's aim been +to destroy his army, the most skillful strategist could hardly have +devised any series of actions that would so completely have +accomplished that purpose, independently of anything the Russian +army might do. + +Napoleon, the man of genius, did this! But to say that he +destroyed his army because he wished to, or because he was very +stupid, would be as unjust as to say that he had brought his troops to +Moscow because he wished to and because he was very clever and a +genius. + +In both cases his personal activity, having no more force than the +personal activity of any soldier, merely coincided with the laws +that guided the event. + +The historians quite falsely represent Napoleon's faculties as +having weakened in Moscow, and do so only because the results did +not justify his actions. He employed all his ability and strength to +do the best he could for himself and his army, as he had done +previously and as he did subsequently in 1813. His activity at that +time was no less astounding than it was in Egypt, in Italy, in +Austria, and in Prussia. We do not know for certain in how far his +genius was genuine in Egypt- where forty centuries looked down upon +his grandeur- for his great exploits there are all told us by +Frenchmen. We cannot accurately estimate his genius in Austria or +Prussia, for we have to draw our information from French or German +sources, and the incomprehensible surrender of whole corps without +fighting and of fortresses without a siege must incline Germans to +recognize his genius as the only explanation of the war carried on +in Germany. But we, thank God, have no need to recognize his genius in +order to hide our shame. We have paid for the right to look at the +matter plainly and simply, and we will not abandon that right. + +His activity in Moscow was as amazing and as full of genius as +elsewhere. Order after order order and plan after plan were issued +by him from the time he entered Moscow till the time he left it. The +absence of citizens and of a deputation, and even the burning of +Moscow, did not disconcert him. He did not lose sight either of the +welfare of his army or of the doings of the enemy, or of the welfare +of the people of Russia, or of the direction of affairs in Paris, or +of diplomatic considerations concerning the terms of the anticipated +peace. + +CHAPTER IX + +With regard to military matters, Napoleon immediately on his entry +into Moscow gave General Sabastiani strict orders to observe the +movements of the Russian army, sent army corps out along the different +roads, and charged Murat to find Kutuzov. Then he gave careful +directions about the fortification of the Kremlin, and drew up a +brilliant plan for a future campaign over the whole map of Russia. + +With regard to diplomatic questions, Napoleon summoned Captain +Yakovlev, who had been robbed and was in rags and did not know how +to get out of Moscow, minutely explained to him his whole policy and +his magnanimity, and having written a letter to the Emperor +Alexander in which he considered it his duty to inform his Friend +and Brother that Rostopchin had managed affairs badly in Moscow, he +dispatched Yakovlev to Petersburg. + +Having similarly explained his views and his magnanimity to +Tutolmin, he dispatched that old man also to Petersburg to negotiate. + +With regard to legal matters, immediately after the fires he gave +orders to find and execute the incendiaries. And the scoundrel +Rostopchin was punished by an order to burn down his houses. + +With regard to administrative matters, Moscow was granted a +constitution. A municipality was established and the following +announcement issued: + +INHABITANTS OF MOSCOW! + +Your misfortunes are cruel, but His Majesty the Emperor and King +desires to arrest their course. Terrible examples have taught you +how he punishes disobedience and crime. Strict measures have been +taken to put an end to disorder and to re-establish public security. A +paternal administration, chosen from among yourselves, will form +your municipality or city government. It will take care of you, of +your needs, and of your welfare. Its members will be distinguished +by a red ribbon worn across the shoulder, and the mayor of the city +will wear a white belt as well. But when not on duty they will only +wear a red ribbon round the left arm. + +The city police is established on its former footing, and better +order already prevails in consequence of its activity. The +government has appointed two commissaries general, or chiefs of +police, and twenty commissaries or captains of wards have been +appointed to the different wards of the city. You will recognize +them by the white ribbon they will wear on the left arm. Several +churches of different denominations are open, and divine service is +performed in them unhindered. Your fellow citizens are returning every +day to their homes. and orders have been given that they should find +in them the help and protection due to their misfortunes. These are +the measures the government has adopted to re-establish order and +relieve youp condition. But to achieve this aim it is necessary that +you should add your efforts and should, if possible, forget the +misfortunes you have suffered, should entertain the hope of a less +cruel fate, should be certain that inevitable and ignominious death +awaits those who make any attempt on your persons or on what remains +of your property, and finally that you should not doubt that these +will be safeguarded, since such is the will of the greatest and most +just of monarchs. Soldiers and citizens, of whatever nation you may +be, re-establish public confidence, the source of the welfare of a +state, live like brothers, render mutual aid and protection one to +another, unite to defeat the intentions of the evil-minded, obey the +military and civil authorities, and your tears will soon cease to +flow! + +With regard to supplies for the army, Napoleon decreed that all +the troops in turn should enter Moscow a la maraude~^ to obtain +provisions for themselves, so that the army might have its future +provided for. + +^~ As looters. + +With regard to religion, Napoleon ordered the priests to be +brought back and services to be again performed in the churches. + +With regard to commerce and to provisioning the army, the +following was placarded everywhere: + +PROCLAMATION! + +You, peaceful inhabitants of Moscow, artisans and workmen whom +misfortune has driven from the city, and you scattered tillers of +the soil, still kept out in the fields by groundless fear, listen! +Tranquillity is returning to this capital and order is being +restored in it. Your fellow countrymen are emerging boldly from +their hiding places on finding that they are respected. Any violence +to them or to their property is promptly punished. His Majesty the +Emperor and King protects them, and considers no one among you his +enemy except those who disobey his orders. He desires to end your +misfortunes and restore you to your homes and families. Respond, +therefore, to his benevolent intentions and come to us without fear. +Inhabitants, return with confidence to your abodes! You will soon find +means of satisfying your needs. Craftsmen and industrious artisans, +return to your work, your houses, your shops, where the protection +of guards awaits you! You shall receive proper pay for your work. +And lastly you too, peasants, come from the forests where you are +hiding in terror, return to your huts without fear, in full +assurance that you will find protection! Markets are established in +the city where peasants can bring their surplus supplies and the +products of the soil. The government has taken the following steps +to ensure freedom of sale for them: (1) From today, peasants, +husbandmen, and those living in the neighborhood of Moscow may without +any danger bring their supplies of all kinds to two appointed markets, +of which one is on the Mokhovaya Street and the other at the Provision +Market. (2) Such supplies will be bought from them at such prices as +seller and buyer may agree on, and if a seller is unable to obtain a +fair price he will be free to take his goods back to his village and +no one may hinder him under any pretense. (3) Sunday and Wednesday +of each week are appointed as the chief market days and to that end +a sufficient number of troops will be stationed along the highroads on +Tuesdays and Saturdays at such distances from the town as to protect +the carts. (4) Similar measures will be taken that peasants with their +carts and horses may meet with no hindrance on their return journey. +(5) Steps will immediately be taken to re-establish ordinary trading. + +Inhabitants of the city and villages, and you, workingmen and +artisans, to whatever nation you belong, you are called on to carry +out the paternal intentions of His Majesty the Emperor and King and to +co-operate with him for the public welfare! Lay your respect and +confidence at his feet and do not delay to unite with us! + +With the object of raising the spirits of the troops and of the +people, reviews were constantly held and rewards distributed. The +Emperor rode through the streets to comfort the inhabitants, and, +despite his preoccupation with state affairs, himself visited the +theaters that were established by his order. + +In regard to philanthropy, the greatest virtue of crowned heads, +Napoleon also did all in his power. He caused the words Maison de ma +Mere to be inscribed on the charitable institutions, thereby combining +tender filial affection with the majestic benevolence of a monarch. He +visited the Foundling Hospital and, allowing the orphans saved by +him to kiss his white hands, graciously conversed with Tutolmin. Then, +as Thiers eloquently recounts, he ordered his soldiers to be paid in +forged Russian money which he had prepared: "Raising the use of +these means by an act worthy of himself and of the French army, he let +relief be distributed to those who had been burned out. But as food +was too precious to be given to foreigners, who were for the most part +enemies, Napoleon preferred to supply them with money with which to +purchase food from outside, and had paper rubles distributed to them." + +With reference to army discipline, orders were continually being +issued to inflict severe punishment for the nonperformance of military +duties and to suppress robbery. + +CHAPTER X + +But strange to say, all these measures, efforts, and plans- which +were not at all worse than others issued in similar circumstances- did +not affect the essence of the matter but, like the hands of a clock +detached from the mechanism, swung about in an arbitrary and aimless +way without engaging the cogwheels. + +With reference to the military side- the plan of campaign- that work +of genius of which Thiers remarks that, "His genius never devised +anything more profound, more skillful, or more admirable," and +enters into a polemic with M. Fain to prove that this work of genius +must be referred not to the fourth but to the fifteenth of October- +that plan never was or could be executed, for it was quite out of +touch with the facts of the case. The fortifying of the Kremlin, for +which la Mosquee (as Napoleon termed the church of Basil the +Beatified) was to have been razed to the ground, proved quite useless. +The mining of the Kremlin only helped toward fulfilling Napoleon's +wish that it should be blown up when he left Moscow- as a child +wants the floor on which he has hurt himself to be beaten. The pursuit +of the Russian army, about which Napoleon was so concerned, produced +an unheard-of result. The French generals lost touch with the +Russian army of sixty thousand men, and according to Thiers it was +only eventually found, like a lost pin, by the skill- and apparently +the genius- of Murat. + +With reference to diplomacy, all Napoleon's arguments as to his +magnanimity and justice, both to Tutolmin and to Yakovlev (whose chief +concern was to obtain a greatcoat and a conveyance), proved useless; +Alexander did not receive these envoys and did not reply to their +embassage. + +With regard to legal matters, after the execution of the supposed +incendiaries the rest of Moscow burned down. + +With regard to administrative matters, the establishment of a +municipality did not stop the robberies and was only of use to certain +people who formed part of that municipality and under pretext of +preserving order looted Moscow or saved their own property from +being looted. + +With regard to religion, as to which in Egypt matters had so +easily been settled by Napoleon's visit to a mosque, no results were +achieved. Two or three priests who were found in Moscow did try to +carry out Napoleon's wish, but one of them was slapped in the face +by a French soldier while conducting service, and a French official +reported of another that: "The priest whom I found and invited to +say Mass cleaned and locked up the church. That night the doors were +again broken open, the padlocks smashed, the books mutilated, and +other disorders perpetrated." + +With reference to commerce, the proclamation to industrious +workmen and to peasants evoked no response. There were no +industrious workmen, and the peasants caught the commissaries who +ventured too far out of town with the proclamation and killed them. + +As to the theaters for the entertainment of the people and the +troops, these did not meet with success either. The theaters set up in +the Kremlin and in Posnyakov's house were closed again at once because +the actors and actresses were robbed. + +Even philanthropy did not have the desired effect. The genuine as +well as the false paper money which flooded Moscow lost its value. The +French, collecting booty, cared only for gold. Not only was the +paper money valueless which Napoleon so graciously distributed to +the unfortunate, but even silver lost its value in relation to gold. + +But the most amazing example of the ineffectiveness of the orders +given by the authorities at that time was Napoleon's attempt to stop +the looting and re-establish discipline. + +This is what the army authorities were reporting: + +"Looting continues in the city despite the decrees against it. Order +is not yet restored and not a single merchant is carrying on trade +in a lawful manner. The sutlers alone venture to trade, and they +sell stolen goods." + +"The neighborhood of my ward continues to be pillaged by soldiers of +the 3rd Corps who, not satisfied with taking from the unfortunate +inhabitants hiding in the cellars the little they have left, even have +the ferocity to wound them with their sabers, as I have repeatedly +witnessed." + +"Nothing new, except that the soldiers are robbing and pillaging- +October 9." + +"Robbery and pillaging continue. There is a band of thieves in our +district who ought to be arrested by a strong force- October 11." + +"The Emperor is extremely displeased that despite the strict +orders to stop pillage, parties of marauding Guards are continually +seen returning to the Kremlin. Among the Old Guard disorder and +pillage were renewed more violently than ever yesterday evening, +last night, and today. The Emperor sees with regret that the picked +soldiers appointed to guard his person, who should set an example of +discipline, carry disobedience to such a point that they break into +the cellars and stores containing army supplies. Others have disgraced +themselves to the extent of disobeying sentinels and officers, and +have abused and beaten them." + +"The Grand Marshal of the palace," wrote the governor, "complains +bitterly that in spite of repeated orders, the soldiers continue to +commit nuisances in all the courtyards and even under the very windows +of the Emperor." + +That army, like a herd of cattle run wild and trampling underfoot +the provender which might have saved it from starvation, disintegrated +and perished with each additional day it remained in Moscow. But it +did not go away. + +It began to run away only when suddenly seized by a panic caused +by the capture of transport trains on the Smolensk road, and by the +battle of Tarutino. The news of that battle of Tarutino, +unexpectedly received by Napoleon at a review, evoked in him a +desire to punish the Russians (Thiers says), and he issued the order +for departure which the whole army was demanding. + +Fleeing from Moscow the soldiers took with them everything they +had stolen. Napoleon, too, carried away his own personal tresor, but +on seeing the baggage trains that impeded the army, he was (Thiers +says) horror-struck. And yet with his experience of war he did not +order all the superfluous vehicles to be burned, as he had done with +those of a certain marshal when approaching Moscow. He gazed at the +caleches and carriages in which soldiers were riding and remarked that +it was a very good thing, as those vehicles could be used to carry +provisions, the sick, and the wounded. + +The plight of the whole army resembled that of a wounded animal +which feels it is perishing and does not know what it is doing. To +study the skillful tactics and aims of Napoleon and his army from +the time it entered Moscow till it was destroyed is like studying +the dying leaps and shudders of a mortally wounded animal. Very +often a wounded animal, hearing a rustle, rushes straight at the +hunter's gun, runs forward and back again, and hastens its own end. +Napoleon, under pressure from his whole army, did the same thing. +The rustle of the battle of Tarutino frightened the beast, and it +rushed forward onto the hunter's gun, reached him, turned back, and +finally- like any wild beast- ran back along the most +disadvantageous and dangerous path, where the old scent was familiar. + +During the whole of that period Napoleon, who seems to us to have +been the leader of all these movements- as the figurehead of a ship +may seem to a savage to guide the vessel- acted like a child who, +holding a couple of strings inside a carriage, thinks he is driving +it. + +CHAPTER XI + +Early in the morning of the sixth of October Pierre went out of +the shed, and on returning stopped by the door to play with a little +blue-gray dog, with a long body and short bandy legs, that jumped +about him. This little dog lived in their shed, sleeping beside +Karataev at night; it sometimes made excursions into the town but +always returned again. Probably it had never had an owner, and it +still belonged to nobody and had no name. The French called it Azor; +the soldier who told stories called it Femgalka; Karataev and others +called it Gray, or sometimes Flabby. Its lack of a master, a name, +or even of a breed or any definite color did not seem to trouble the +blue-gray dog in the least. Its furry tail stood up firm and round +as a plume, its bandy legs served it so well that it would often +gracefully lift a hind leg and run very easily and quickly on three +legs, as if disdaining to use all four. Everything pleased it. Now +it would roll on its back, yelping with delight, now bask in the sun +with a thoughtful air of importance, and now frolic about playing with +a chip of wood or a straw. + +Pierre's attire by now consisted of a dirty torn shirt (the only +remnant of his former clothing), a pair of soldier's trousers which by +Karataev's advice he tied with string round the ankles for warmth, and +a peasant coat and cap. Physically he had changed much during this +time. He no longer seemed stout, though he still had the appearance of +solidity and strength hereditary in his family. A beard and mustache +covered the lower part of his face, and a tangle of hair, infested +with lice, curled round his head like a cap. The look of his eyes +was resolute, calm, and animatedly alert, as never before. The +former slackness which had shown itself even in his eyes was now +replaced by an energetic readiness for action and resistance. His feet +were bare. + +Pierre first looked down the field across which vehicles and +horsemen were passing that morning, then into the distance across +the river, then at the dog who was pretending to be in earnest about +biting him, and then at his bare feet which he placed with pleasure in +various positions, moving his dirty thick big toes. Every time he +looked at his bare feet a smile of animated self-satisfaction +flitted across his face. The sight of them reminded him of all he +had experienced and learned during these weeks and this recollection +was pleasant to him. + +For some days the weather had been calm and clear with slight frosts +in the mornings- what is called an "old wives' summer." + +In the sunshine the air was warm, and that warmth was particularly +pleasant with the invigorating freshness of the morning frost still in +the air. + +On everything- far and near- lay the magic crystal glitter seen only +at that time autumn. The Sparrow Hills were visible in the distance, +with the village, the church, and the large white house. The bare +trees, the sand, the bricks and roofs of the houses, the green +church spire, and the corners of the white house in the distance, +all stood out in the transparent air in most delicate outline and with +unnatural clearness. Near by could be seen the familiar ruins of a +half-burned mansion occupied by the French, with lilac bushes still +showing dark green beside the fence. And even that ruined and befouled +house- which in dull weather was repulsively ugly- seemed quietly +beautiful now, in the clear, motionless brilliance. + +A French corporal, with coat unbuttoned in a homely way, a +skullcap on his head, and a short pipe in his mouth, came from +behind a corner of the shed and approached Pierre with a friendly +wink. + +"What sunshine, Monsieur Kiril!" (Their name for Pierre.) "Eh? +Just like spring!" + +And the corporal leaned against the door and offered Pierre his +pipe, though whenever he offered it Pierre always declined it. + +"To be on the march in such weather..." he began. + +Pierre inquired what was being said about leaving, and the +corporal told him that nearly all the troops were starting and there +ought to be an order about the prisoners that day. Sokolov, one of the +soldiers in the shed with Pierre, was dying, and Pierre told the +corporal that something should be done about him. The corporal replied +that Pierre need not worry about that as they had an ambulance and a +permanent hospital and arrangements would be made for the sick, and +that in general everything that could happen had been foreseen by +the authorities. + +"Besides, Monsieur Kiril, you have only to say a word to the +captain, you know. He is a man who never forgets anything. Speak to +the captain when he makes his round, he will do anything for you." + +(The captain of whom the corporal spoke often had long chats with +Pierre and showed him all sorts of favors.) + +"'You see, St. Thomas,' he said to me the other day. 'Monsieur Kiril +is a man of education, who speaks French. He is a Russian seigneur who +has had misfortunes, but he is a man. He knows what's what.... If he +wants anything and asks me, he won't get a refusal. When one has +studied, you see, one likes education and well-bred people.' It is for +your sake I mention it, Monsieur Kiril. The other day if it had not +been for you that affair would have ended ill." + +And after chatting a while longer, the corporal went away. (The +affair he had alluded to had happened a few days before- a fight +between the prisoners and the French soldiers, in which Pierre had +succeeded in pacifying his comrades.) Some of the prisoners who had +heard Pierre talking to the corporal immediately asked what the +Frenchman had said. While Pierre was repeating what he had been told +about the army leaving Moscow, a thin, sallow, tattered French soldier +came up to the door of the shed. Rapidly and timidly raising his +fingers to his forehead by way of greeting, he asked Pierre whether +the soldier Platoche to whom he had given a shirt to sew was in that +shed. + +A week before the French had had boot leather and linen issued to +them, which they had given out to the prisoners to make up into +boots and shirts for them. + +"Ready, ready, dear fellow!" said Karataev, coming out with a neatly +folded shirt. + +Karataev, on account of the warm weather and for convenience at +work, was wearing only trousers and a tattered shirt as black as soot. +His hair was bound round, workman fashion, with a wisp of lime-tree +bast, and his round face seemed rounder and pleasanter than ever. + +"A promise is own brother to performance! I said Friday and here +it is, ready," said Platon, smiling and unfolding the shirt he had +sewn. + +The Frenchman glanced around uneasily and then, as if overcoming his +hesitation, rapidly threw off his uniform and put on the shirt. He had +a long, greasy, flowered silk waistcoat next to his sallow, thin +bare body, but no shirt. He was evidently afraid the prisoners looking +on would laugh at him, and thrust his head into the shirt hurriedly. +None of the prisoners said a word. + +"See, it fits well!" Platon kept repeating, pulling the shirt +straight. + +The Frenchman, having pushed his head and hands through, without +raising his eyes, looked down at the shirt and examined the seams. + +"You see, dear man, this is not a sewing shop, and I had no proper +tools; and, as they say, one needs a tool even to kill a louse," +said Platon with one of his round smiles, obviously pleased with his +work. + +"It's good, quite good, thank you," said the Frenchman, in French, +"but there must be some linen left over. + +"It will fit better still when it sets to your body," said Karataev, +still admiring his handiwork. "You'll be nice and comfortable...." + +"Thanks, thanks, old fellow.... But the bits left over?" said the +Frenchman again and smiled. He took out an assignation ruble note +and gave it to Karataev. "But give me the pieces that are over." + +Pierre saw that Platon did not want to understand what the Frenchman +was saying, and he looked on without interfering. Karataev thanked the +Frenchman for the money and went on admiring his own work. The +Frenchman insisted on having the pieces returned that were left over +and asked Pierre to translate what he said. + +"What does he want the bits for?" said Karataev. "They'd make fine +leg bands for us. Well, never mind." + +And Karataev, with a suddenly changed and saddened expression, +took a small bundle of scraps from inside his shirt and gave it to the +Frenchman without looking at him. "Oh dear!" muttered Karataev and +went away. The Frenchman looked at the linen, considered for a moment, +then looked inquiringly at Pierre and, as if Pierre's look had told +him something, suddenly blushed and shouted in a squeaky voice: + +"Platoche! Eh, Platoche! Keep them yourself!" And handing back the +odd bits he turned and went out. + +"There, look at that," said Karataev, swaying his head. "People said +they were not Christians, but they too have souls. It's what the old +folk used to say: 'A sweating hand's an open hand, a dry hand's +close.' He's naked, but yet he's given it back." + +Karataev smiled thoughtfully and was silent awhile looking at the +pieces. + +"But they'll make grand leg bands, dear friend," he said, and went +back into the shed. + +CHAPTER XII + +Four weeks had passed since Pierre had been taken prisoner and +though the French had offered to move him from the men's to the +officers' shed, he had stayed in the shed where he was first put. + +In burned and devastated Moscow Pierre experienced almost the +extreme limits of privation a man can endure; but thanks to his +physical strength and health, of which he had till then been +unconscious, and thanks especially to the fact that the privations +came so gradually that it was impossible to say when they began, he +endured his position not only lightly but joyfully. And just at this +time he obtained the tranquillity and ease of mind he had formerly +striven in vain to reach. He had long sought in different ways that +tranquillity of mind, that inner harmony which had so impressed him in +the soldiers at the battle of Borodino. He had sought it in +philanthropy, in Freemasonry, in the dissipations of town life, in +wine, in heroic feats of self-sacrifice, and in romantic love for +Natasha; he had sought it by reasoning- and all these quests and +experiments had failed him. And now without thinking about it he had +found that peace and inner harmony only through the horror of death, +through privation, and through what he recognized in Karataev. + +Those dreadful moments he had lived through at the executions had as +it were forever washed away from his imagination and memory the +agitating thoughts and feelings that had formerly seemed so important. +It did not now occur to him to think of Russia, or the war, or +politics, or Napoleon. It was plain to him that all these things +were no business of his, and that he was not called on to judge +concerning them and therefore could not do so. "Russia and summer +weather are not bound together," he thought, repeating words of +Karataev's which he found strangely consoling. His intention of +killing Napoleon and his calculations of the cabalistic number of +the beast of the Apocalypse now seemed to him meaningless and even +ridiculous. His anger with his wife and anxiety that his name should +not be smirched now seemed not merely trivial but even amusing. What +concern was it of his that somewhere or other that woman was leading +the life she preferred? What did it matter to anybody, and +especially to him, whether or not they found out that their prisoner's +name was Count Bezukhov? + +He now often remembered his conversation with Prince Andrew and +quite agreed with him, though he understood Prince Andrew's thoughts +somewhat differently. Prince Andrew had thought and said that +happiness could only be negative, but had said it with a shade of +bitterness and irony as though he was really saying that all desire +for positive happiness is implanted in us merely to torment us and +never be satisfied. But Pierre believed it without any mental +reservation. The absence of suffering, the satisfaction of one's needs +and consequent freedom in the choice of one's occupation, that is, +of one's way of life, now seemed to Pierre to be indubitably man's +highest happiness. Here and now for the first time he fully +appreciated the enjoyment of eating when he wanted to eat, drinking +when he wanted to drink, sleeping when he wanted to sleep, of warmth +when he was cold, of talking to a fellow man when he wished to talk +and to hear a human voice. The satisfaction of one's needs- good food, +cleanliness, and freedom- now that he was deprived of all this, seemed +to Pierre to constitute perfect happiness; and the choice of +occupation, that is, of his way of life- now that that was so +restricted- seemed to him such an easy matter that he forgot that a +superfluity of the comforts of life destroys all joy in satisfying +one's needs, while great freedom in the choice of occupation- such +freedom as his wealth, his education, and his social position had +given him in his own life- is just what makes the choice of occupation +insolubly difficult and destroys the desire and possibility of +having an occupation. + +All Pierre's daydreams now turned on the time when he would be free. +Yet subsequently, and for the rest of his life, he thought and spoke +with enthusiasm of that month of captivity, of those irrecoverable, +strong, joyful sensations, and chiefly of the complete peace of mind +and inner freedom which he experienced only during those weeks. + +When on the first day he got up early, went out of the shed at dawn, +and saw the cupolas and crosses of the New Convent of the Virgin still +dark at first, the hoarfrost on the dusty grass, the Sparrow Hills, +and the wooded banks above the winding river vanishing in the purple +distance, when he felt the contact of the fresh air and heard the +noise of the crows flying from Moscow across the field, and when +afterwards light gleamed from the east and the sun's rim appeared +solemnly from behind a cloud, and the cupolas and crosses, the +hoarfrost, the distance and the river, all began to sparkle in the +glad light- Pierre felt a new joy and strength in life such as he +had never before known. And this not only stayed with him during the +whole of his imprisonment, but even grew in strength as the +hardships of his position increased. + +That feeling of alertness and of readiness for anything was still +further strengthened in him by the high opinion his fellow prisoners +formed of him soon after his arrival at the shed. With his knowledge +of languages, the respect shown him by the French, his simplicity, his +readiness to give anything asked of him (he received the allowance +of three rubles a week made to officers); with his strength, which +he showed to the soldiers by pressing nails into the walls of the hut; +his gentleness to his companions, and his capacity for sitting still +and thinking without doing anything (which seemed to them +incomprehensible), he appeared to them a rather mysterious and +superior being. The very qualities that had been a hindrance, if not +actually harmful, to him in the world he had lived in- his strength, +his disdain for the comforts of life, his absent-mindedness and +simplicity- here among these people gave him almost the status of a +hero. And Pierre felt that their opinion placed responsibilities +upon him. + +CHAPTER XIII + +The French evacuation began on the night between the sixth and +seventh of October: kitchens and sheds were dismantled, carts +loaded, and troops and baggage trains started. + +At seven in the morning a French convoy in marching trim, wearing +shakos and carrying muskets, knapsacks, and enormous sacks, stood in +front of the sheds, and animated French talk mingled with curses +sounded all along the lines. + +In the shed everyone was ready, dressed, belted, shod, and only +awaited the order to start. The sick soldier, Sokolov, pale and thin +with dark shadows round his eyes, alone sat in his place barefoot +and not dressed. His eyes, prominent from the emaciation of his +face, gazed inquiringly at his comrades who were paying no attention +to him, and he moaned regularly and quietly. It was evidently not so +much his sufferings that caused him to moan (he had dysentery) as +his fear and grief at being left alone. + +Pierre, girt with a rope round his waist and wearing shoes +Karataev had made for him from some leather a French soldier had +torn off a tea chest and brought to have his boots mended with, went +up to the sick man and squatted down beside him. + +"You know, Sokolov, they are not all going away! They have a +hospital here. You may be better off than we others," said Pierre. + +"O Lord! Oh, it will be the death of me! O Lord!" moaned the man +in a louder voice. + +"I'll go and ask them again directly," said Pierre, rising and going +to the door of the shed. + +Just as Pierre reached the door, the corporal who had offered him +a pipe the day before came up to it with two soldiers. The corporal +and soldiers were in marching kit with knapsacks and shakos that had +metal straps, and these changed their familiar faces. + +The corporal came, according to orders, to shut the door. The +prisoners had to be counted before being let out. + +"Corporal, what will they do with the sick man?..." Pierre began. + +But even as he spoke he began to doubt whether this was the corporal +he knew or a stranger, so unlike himself did the corporal seem at that +moment. Moreover, just as Pierre was speaking a sharp rattle of +drums was suddenly heard from both sides. The corporal frowned at +Pierre's words and, uttering some meaningless oaths, slammed the door. +The shed became semidark, and the sharp rattle of the drums on two +sides drowned the sick man's groans. + +"There it is!... It again!..." said Pierre to himself, and an +involuntary shudder ran down his spine. In the corporal's changed +face, in the sound of his voice, in the stirring and deafening noise +of the drums, he recognized that mysterious, callous force which +compelled people against their will to kill their fellow men- that +force the effect of which he had witnessed during the executions. To +fear or to try to escape that force, to address entreaties or +exhortations to those who served as its tools, was useless. Pierre +knew this now. One had to wait and endure. He did not again go to +the sick man, nor turn to look at him, but stood frowning by the +door of the hut. + +When that door was opened and the prisoners, crowding against one +another like a flock of sheep, squeezed into the exit, Pierre pushed +his way forward and approached that very captain who as the corporal +had assured him was ready to do anything for him. The captain was also +in marching kit, and on his cold face appeared that same it which +Pierre had recognized in the corporal's words and in the roll of the +drums. + +"Pass on, pass on!" the captain reiterated, frowning sternly, and +looking at the prisoners who thronged past him. + +Pierre went up to him, though he knew his attempt would be vain. + +"What now?" the officer asked with a cold look as if not recognizing +Pierre. + +Pierre told him about the sick man. + +"He'll manage to walk, devil take him!" said the captain. "Pass +on, pass on!" he continued without looking at Pierre. + +"But he is dying," Pierre again began. + +"Be so good..." shouted the captain, frowning angrily. + +"Dram-da-da-dam, dam-dam..." rattled the drums, and Pierre +understood that this mysterious force completely controlled these +men and that it was now useless to say any more. + +The officer prisoners were separated from the soldiers and told to +march in front. There were about thirty officers, with Pierre among +them, and about three hundred men. + +The officers, who had come from the other sheds, were all +strangers to Pierre and much better dressed than he. They looked at +him and at his shoes mistrustfully, as at an alien. Not far from him +walked a fat major with a sallow, bloated, angry face, who was wearing +a Kazan dressing grown tied round with a towel, and who evidently +enjoyed the respect of his fellow prisoners. He kept one hand, in +which he clasped his tobacco pouch, inside the bosom of his dressing +gown and held the stem of his pipe firmly with the other. Panting +and puffing, the major grumbled and growled at everybody because he +thought he was being pushed and that they were all hurrying when +they had nowhere to hurry to and were all surprised at something +when there was nothing to be surprised at. Another, a thin little +officer, was speaking to everyone, conjecturing where they were now +being taken and how far they would get that day. An official in felt +boots and wearing a commissariat uniform ran round from side to side +and gazed at the ruins of Moscow, loudly announcing his observations +as to what had been burned down and what this or that part of the city +was that they could see. A third officer, who by his accent was a +Pole, disputed with the commissariat officer, arguing that he was +mistaken in his identification of the different wards of Moscow. + +"What are you disputing about?" said the major angrily. "What does +it matter whether it is St. Nicholas or St. Blasius? You see it's +burned down, and there's an end of it.... What are you pushing for? +Isn't the road wide enough?" said he, turning to a man behind him +who was not pushing him at all. + +"Oh, oh, oh! What have they done?" the prisoners on one side and +another were heard saying as they gazed on the charred ruins. "All +beyond the river, and Zubova, and in the Kremlin.... Just look! +There's not half of it left. Yes, I told you- the whole quarter beyond +the river, and so it is." + +"Well, you know it's burned, so what's the use of talking?" said the +major. + +As they passed near a church in the Khamovniki (one of the few +unburned quarters of Moscow) the whole mass of prisoners suddenly +started to one side and exclamations of horror and disgust were heard. + +"Ah, the villains! What heathens! Yes; dead, dead, so he is... And +smeared with something!" + +Pierre too drew near the church where the thing was that evoked +these exclamations, and dimly made out something leaning against the +palings surrounding the church. From the words of his comrades who saw +better than he did, he found that this was the body of a man, set +upright against the palings with its face smeared with soot. + +"Go on! What the devil... Go on! Thirty thousand devils!..." the +convoy guards began cursing and the French soldiers, with fresh +virulence, drove away with their swords the crowd of prisoners who +were gazing at the dead man. + +CHAPTER XIV + +Through the cross streets of the Khamovniki quarter the prisoners +marched, followed only by their escort and the vehicles and wagons +belonging to that escort, but when they reached the supply stores they +came among a huge and closely packed train of artillery mingled with +private vehicles. + +At the bridge they all halted, waiting for those in front to get +across. From the bridge they had a view of endless lines of moving +baggage trains before and behind them. To the right, where the +Kaluga road turns near Neskuchny, endless rows of troops and carts +stretched away into the distance. These were troops of Beauharnais' +corps which had started before any of the others. Behind, along the +riverside and across the Stone Bridge, were Ney's troops and +transport. + +Davout's troops, in whose charge were the prisoners, were crossing +the Crimean bridge and some were already debouching into the Kaluga +road. But the baggage trains stretched out so that the last of +Beauharnais' train had not yet got out of Moscow and reached the +Kaluga road when the vanguard of Ney's army was already emerging +from the Great Ordynka Street. + +When they had crossed the Crimean bridge the prisoners moved a few +steps forward, halted, and again moved on, and from all sides vehicles +and men crowded closer and closer together. They advanced the few +hundred paces that separated the bridge from the Kaluga road, taking +more than an hour to do so, and came out upon the square where the +streets of the Transmoskva ward and the Kaluga road converge, and +the prisoners jammed close together had to stand for some hours at +that crossway. From all sides, like the roar of the sea, were heard +the rattle of wheels, the tramp of feet, and incessant shouts of anger +and abuse. Pierre stood pressed against the wall of a charred house, +listening to that noise which mingled in his imagination with the roll +of the drums. + +To get a better view, several officer prisoners climbed onto the +wall of the half-burned house against which Pierre was leaning. + +"What crowds! Just look at the crowds!... They've loaded goods +even on the cannon! Look there, those are furs!" they exclaimed. "Just +see what the blackguards have looted.... There! See what that one +has behind in the cart.... Why, those are settings taken from some +icons, by heaven!... Oh, the rascals!... See how that fellow has +loaded himself up, he can hardly walk! Good lord, they've even grabbed +those chaises!... See that fellow there sitting on the trunks.... +Heavens! They're fighting." + +"That's right, hit him on the snout- on his snout! Like this, we +shan't get away before evening. Look, look there.... Why, that must be +Napoleon's own. See what horses! And the monograms with a crown! +It's like a portable house.... That fellow's dropped his sack and +doesn't see it. Fighting again... A woman with a baby, and not +bad-looking either! Yes, I dare say, that's the way they'll let you +pass... Just look, there's no end to it. Russian wenches, by heaven, +so they are! In carriages- see how comfortably they've settled +themselves!" + +Again, as at the church in Khamovniki, a wave of general curiosity +bore all the prisoners forward onto the road, and Pierre, thanks to +his stature, saw over the heads of the others what so attracted +their curiosity. In three carriages involved among the munition carts, +closely squeezed together, sat women with rouged faces, dressed in +glaring colors, who were shouting something in shrill voices. + +From the moment Pierre had recognized the appearance of the +mysterious force nothing had seemed to him strange or dreadful: +neither the corpse smeared with soot for fun nor these women +hurrying away nor the burned ruins of Moscow. All that he now +witnessed scarcely made an impression on him- as if his soul, making +ready for a hard struggle, refused to receive impressions that might +weaken it. + +The women's vehicles drove by. Behind them came more carts, +soldiers, wagons, soldiers, gun carriages, carriages, soldiers, +ammunition carts, more soldiers, and now and then women. + +Pierre did not see the people as individuals but saw their movement. + +All these people and horses seemed driven forward by some +invisible power. During the hour Pierre watched them they all came +flowing from the different streets with one and the same desire to get +on quickly; they all jostled one another, began to grow angry and to +fight, white teeth gleamed, brows frowned, ever the same words of +abuse flew from side to side, and all the faces bore the same +swaggeringly resolute and coldly cruel expression that had struck +Pierre that morning on the corporal's face when the drums were +beating. + +It was not till nearly evening that the officer commanding the +escort collected his men and with shouts and quarrels forced his way +in among the baggage trains, and the prisoners, hemmed in on all +sides, emerged onto the Kaluga road. + +They marched very quickly, without resting, and halted only when the +sun began to set. The baggage carts drew up close together and the men +began to prepare for their night's rest. They all appeared angry and +dissatisfied. For a long time, oaths, angry shouts, and fighting could +be heard from all sides. A carriage that followed the escort ran +into one of the carts and knocked a hole in it with its pole. +Several soldiers ran toward the cart from different sides: some beat +the carriage horses on their heads, turning them aside, others +fought among themselves, and Pierre saw that one German was badly +wounded on the head by a sword. + +It seemed that all these men, now that they had stopped amid +fields in the chill dusk of the autumn evening, experienced one and +the same feeling of unpleasant awakening from the hurry and +eagerness to push on that had seized them at the start. Once at a +standstill they all seemed to understand that they did not yet know +where they were going, and that much that was painful and difficult +awaited them on this journey. + +During this halt the escort treated the prisoners even worse than +they had done at the start. It was here that the prisoners for the +first time received horseflesh for their meat ration. + +From the officer down to the lowest soldier they showed what +seemed like personal spite against each of the prisoners, in +unexpected contrast to their former friendly relations. + +This spite increased still more when, on calling over the roll of +prisoners, it was found that in the bustle of leaving Moscow one +Russian soldier, who had pretended to suffer from colic, had +escaped. Pierre saw a Frenchman beat a Russian soldier cruelly for +straying too far from the road, and heard his friend the captain +reprimand and threaten to court-martial a noncommissioned officer on +account of the escape of the Russian. To the noncommissioned officer's +excuse that the prisoner was ill and could not walk, the officer +replied that the order was to shoot those who lagged behind. Pierre +felt that that fatal force which had crushed him during the +executions, but which be had not felt during his imprisonment, now +again controlled his existence. It was terrible, but he felt that in +proportion to the efforts of that fatal force to crush him, there grew +and strengthened in his soul a power of life independent of it. + +He ate his supper of buckwheat soup with horseflesh and chatted with +his comrades. + +Neither Pierre nor any of the others spoke of what they had seen +in Moscow, or of the roughness of their treatment by the French, or of +the order to shoot them which had been announced to them. As if in +reaction against the worsening of their position they were all +particularly animated and gay. They spoke of personal reminiscences, +of amusing scenes they had witnessed during the campaign, and +avoided all talk of their present situation. + +The sun had set long since. Bright stars shone out here and there in +the sky. A red glow as of a conflagration spread above the horizon +from the rising full moon, and that vast red ball swayed strangely +in the gray haze. It grew light. The evening was ending, but the night +had not yet come. Pierre got up and left his new companions, +crossing between the campfires to the other side of the road where +he had been told the common soldier prisoners were stationed. He +wanted to talk to them. On the road he was stopped by a French +sentinel who ordered him back. + +Pierre turned back, not to his companions by the campfire, but to an +unharnessed cart where there was nobody. Tucking his legs under him +and dropping his head he sat down on the cold ground by the wheel of +the cart and remained motionless a long while sunk in thought. +Suddenly he burst out into a fit of his broad, good-natured +laughter, so loud that men from various sides turned with surprise +to see what this strange and evidently solitary laughter could mean. + +"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed Pierre. And he said aloud to himself: "The +soldier did not let me pass. They took me and shut me up. They hold me +captive. What, me? Me? My immortal soul? Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!..." and +he laughed till tears started to his eyes. + +A man got up and came to see what this queer big fellow was laughing +at all by himself. Pierre stopped laughing, got up, went farther +away from the inquisitive man, and looked around him. + +The huge, endless bivouac that had previously resounded with the +crackling of campfires and the voices of many men had grown quiet, the +red campfires were growing paler and dying down. High up in the +light sky hung the full moon. Forests and fields beyond the camp, +unseen before, were now visible in the distance. And farther still, +beyond those forests and fields, the bright, oscillating, limitless +distance lured one to itself. Pierre glanced up at the sky and the +twinkling stars in its faraway depths. "And all that is me, all that +is within me, and it is all I!" thought Pierre. "And they caught all +that and put it into a shed boarded up with planks!" He smiled, and +went and lay down to sleep beside his companions. + +CHAPTER XV + +In the early days of October another envoy came to Kutuzov with a +letter from Napoleon proposing peace and falsely dated from Moscow, +though Napoleon was already not far from Kutuzov on the old Kaluga +road. Kutuzov replied to this letter as he had done to the one +formerly brought by Lauriston, saying that there could be no +question of peace. + +Soon after that a report was received from Dorokhov's guerrilla +detachment operating to the left of Tarutino that troops of +Broussier's division had been seen at Forminsk and that being +separated from the rest of the French army they might easily be +destroyed. The soldiers and officers again demanded action. Generals +on the staff, excited by the memory of the easy victory at Tarutino, +urged Kutuzov to carry out Dorokhov's suggestion. Kutuzov did not +consider any offensive necessary. The result was a compromise which +was inevitable: a small detachment was sent to Forminsk to attack +Broussier. + +By a strange coincidence, this task, which turned out to be a most +difficult and important one, was entrusted to Dokhturov- that same +modest little Dokhturov whom no one had described to us as drawing +up plans of battles, dashing about in front of regiments, showering +crosses on batteries, and so on, and who was thought to be and was +spoken of as undecided and undiscerning- but whom we find commanding +wherever the position was most difficult all through the +Russo-French wars from Austerlitz to the year 1813. At Austerlitz he +remained last at the Augezd dam, rallying the regiments, saving what +was possible when all were flying and perishing and not a single +general was left in the rear guard. Ill with fever he went to Smolensk +with twenty thousand men to defend the town against Napoleon's whole +army. In Smolensk, at the Malakhov Gate, he had hardly dozed off in +a paroxysm of fever before he was awakened by the bombardment of the +town- and Smolensk held out all day long. At the battle of Borodino, +when Bagration was killed and nine tenths of the men of our left flank +had fallen and the full force of the French artillery fire was +directed against it, the man sent there was this same irresolute and +undiscerning Dokhturov- Kutuzov hastening to rectify a mistake he +had made by sending someone else there first. And the quiet little +Dokhturov rode thither, and Borodino became the greatest glory of +the Russian army. Many heroes have been described to us in verse and +prose, but of Dokhturov scarcely a word has been said. + +It was Dokhturov again whom they sent to Forminsk and from there +to Malo-Yaroslavets, the place where the last battle with the French +was fought and where the obvious disintegration of the French army +began; and we are told of many geniuses and heroes of that period of +the campaign, but of Dokhturov nothing or very little is said and that +dubiously. And this silence about Dokhturov is the clearest +testimony to his merit. + +It is natural for a man who does not understand the workings of a +machine to imagine that a shaving that has fallen into it by chance +and is interfering with its action and tossing about in it is its most +important part. The man who does not understand the construction of +the machine cannot conceive that the small connecting cogwheel which +revolves quietly is one of the most essential parts of the machine, +and not the shaving which merely harms and hinders the working. + +On the tenth of October when Dokhturov had gone halfway to +Forminsk and stopped at the village of Aristovo, preparing +faithfully to execute the orders he had received, the whole French +army having, in its convulsive movement, reached Murat's position +apparently in order to give battle- suddenly without any reason turned +off to the left onto the new Kaluga road and began to enter +Forminsk, where only Broussier had been till then. At that time +Dokhturov had under his command, besides Dorokhov's detachment, the +two small guerrilla detachments of Figner and Seslavin. + +On the evening of October 11 Seslavin came to the Aristovo +headquarters with a French guardsman he had captured. The prisoner +said that the troops that had entered Forminsk that day were the +vanguard of the whole army, that Napoleon was there and the whole army +had left Moscow four days previously. That same evening a house serf +who had come from Borovsk said he had seen an immense army entering +the town. Some Cossacks of Dokhturov's detachment reported having +sighted the French Guards marching along the road to Borovsk. From all +these reports it was evident that where they had expected to meet a +single division there was now the whole French army marching from +Moscow in an unexpected direction- along the Kaluga road. Dokhturov +was unwilling to undertake any action, as it was not clear to him +now what he ought to do. He had been ordered to attack Forminsk. But +only Broussier had been there at that time and now the whole French +army was there. Ermolov wished to act on his own judgment, but +Dokhturov insisted that he must have Kutuzov's instructions. So it was +decided to send a dispatch to the staff. + +For this purpose a capable officer, Bolkhovitinov, was chosen, who +was to explain the whole affair by word of mouth, besides delivering a +written report. Toward midnight Bolkhovitinov, having received the +dispatch and verbal instructions, galloped off to the General Staff +accompanied by a Cossack with spare horses. + +CHAPTER XVI + +It was a warm, dark, autumn night. It had been raining for four +days. Having changed horses twice and galloped twenty miles in an hour +and a half over a sticky, muddy road, Bolkhovitinov reached Litashevka +after one o'clock at night. Dismounting at a cottage on whose wattle +fence hung a signboard, GENERAL STAFF, and throwing down his reins, he +entered a dark passage. + +"The general on duty, quick! It's very important!" said he to +someone who had risen and was sniffing in the dark passage. + +"He has been very unwell since the evening and this is the third +night he has not slept," said the orderly pleadingly in a whisper. +"You should wake the captain first." + +"But this is very important, from General Dokhturov," said +Bolkhovitinov, entering the open door which he had found by feeling in +the dark. + +The orderly had gone in before him and began waking somebody. + +"Your honor, your honor! A courier." + +"What? What's that? From whom?" came a sleepy voice. + +"From Dokhturov and from Alexey Petrovich. Napoleon is at Forminsk," +said Bolkhovitinov, unable to see in the dark who was speaking but +guessing by the voice that it was not Konovnitsyn. + +The man who had wakened yawned and stretched himself. + +"I don't like waking him," he said, fumbling for something. "He is +very ill. Perhaps this is only a rumor." + +"Here is the dispatch," said Bolkhovitinov. "My orders are to give +it at once to the general on duty." + +"Wait a moment, I'll light a candle. You damned rascal, where do you +always hide it?" said the voice of the man who was stretching himself, +to the orderly. (This was Shcherbinin, Konovnitsyn's adjutant.) +"I've found it, I've found it!" he added. + +The orderly was striking a light and Shcherbinin was fumbling for +something on the candlestick. + +"Oh, the nasty beasts!" said he with disgust. + +By the light of the sparks Bolkhovitinov saw Shcherbinin's +youthful face as he held the candle, and the face of another man who +was still asleep. This was Konovnitsyn. + +When the flame of the sulphur splinters kindled by the tinder burned +up, first blue and then red, Shcherbinin lit the tallow candle, from +the candlestick of which the cockroaches that had been gnawing it were +running away, and looked at the messenger. Bolkhovitinov was +bespattered all over with mud and had smeared his face by wiping it +with his sleeve. + +"Who gave the report?" inquired Shcherbinin, taking the envelope. + +"The news is reliable," said Bolkhovitinov. "Prisoners, Cossacks, +and the scouts all say the same thing." + +"There's nothing to be done, we'll have to wake him," said +Shcherbinin, rising and going up to the man in the nightcap who lay +covered by a greatcoat. "Peter Petrovich!" said he. (Konovnitsyn did +not stir.) "To the General Staff!" he said with a smile, knowing +that those words would be sure to arouse him. + +And in fact the head in the nightcap was lifted at once. On +Konovnitsyn's handsome, resolute face with cheeks flushed by fever, +there still remained for an instant a faraway dreamy expression remote +from present affairs, but then he suddenly started and his face +assumed its habitual calm and firm appearance. + +"Well, what is it? From whom?" he asked immediately but without +hurry, blinking at the light. + +While listening to the officer's report Konovnitsyn broke the seal +and read the dispatch. Hardly had he done so before he lowered his +legs in their woolen stockings to the earthen floor and began +putting on his boots. Then he took off his nightcap, combed his hair +over his temples, and donned his cap. + +"Did you get here quickly? Let us go to his Highness." + +Konovnitsyn had understood at once that the news brought was of +great importance and that no time must be lost. He did not consider or +ask himself whether the news was good or bad. That did not interest +him. He regarded the whole business of the war not with his +intelligence or his reason but by something else. There was within him +a deep unexpressed conviction that all would be well, but that one +must not trust to this and still less speak about it, but must only +attend to one's own work. And he did his work, giving his whole +strength to the task. + +Peter Petrovich Konovnitsyn, like Dokhturov, seems to have been +included merely for propriety's sake in the list of the so-called +heroes of 1812- the Barclays, Raevskis, Ermolovs, Platovs, and +Miloradoviches. Like Dokhturov he had the reputation of being a man of +very limited capacity and information, and like Dokhturov he never +made plans of battle but was always found where the situation was most +difficult. Since his appointment as general on duty he had always +slept with his door open, giving orders that every messenger should be +allowed to wake him up. In battle he was always under fire, so that +Kutuzov reproved him for it and feared to send him to the front, and +like Dokhturov he was one of those unnoticed cogwheels that, without +clatter or noise, constitute the most essential part of the machine. + +Coming out of the hut into the damp, dark night Konovnitsyn frowned- +partly from an increased pain in his head and partly at the unpleasant +thought that occurred to him, of how all that nest of influential +men on the staff would be stirred up by this news, especially +Bennigsen, who ever since Tarutino had been at daggers drawn with +Kutuzov; and how they would make suggestions, quarrel, issue orders, +and rescind them. And this premonition was disagreeable to him +though he knew it could not be helped. + +And in fact Toll, to whom he went to communicate the news, +immediately began to expound his plans to a general sharing his +quarters, until Konovnitsyn, who listened in weary silence, reminded +him that they must go to see his Highness. + +CHAPTER XVII + +Kutuzov like all old people did not sleep much at night. He often +fell asleep unexpectedly in the daytime, but at night, lying on his +bed without undressing, he generally remained awake thinking. + +So he lay now on his bed, supporting his large, heavy, scarred +head on his plump hand, with his one eye open, meditating and +peering into the darkness. + +Since Bennigsen, who corresponded with the Emperor and had more +influence than anyone else on the staff, had begun to avoid him, +Kutuzov was more at ease as to the possibility of himself and his +troops being obliged to take part in useless aggressive movements. The +lesson of the Tarutino battle and of the day before it, which +Kutuzov remembered with pain, must, he thought, have some effect on +others too. + +"They must understand that we can only lose by taking the offensive. +Patience and time are my warriors, my champions," thought Kutuzov. +He knew that an apple should not be plucked while it is green. It will +fall of itself when ripe, but if picked unripe the apple is spoiled, +the tree is harmed, and your teeth are set on edge. Like an +experienced sportsman he knew that the beast was wounded, and +wounded as only the whole strength of Russia could have wounded it, +but whether it was mortally wounded or not was still an undecided +question. Now by the fact of Lauriston and Barthelemi having been +sent, and by the reports of the guerrillas, Kutuzov was almost sure +that the wound was mortal. But he needed further proofs and it was +necessary to wait. + +"They want to run to see how they have wounded it. Wait and we shall +see! Continual maneuvers, continual advances!" thought he. "What +for? Only to distinguish themselves! As if fighting were fun. They are +like children from whom one can't get any sensible account of what has +happened because they all want to show how well they can fight. But +that's not what is needed now. + +"And what ingenious maneuvers they all propose to me! It seems to +them that when they have thought of two or three contingencies" (he +remembered the general plan sent him from Petersburg) "they have +foreseen everything. But the contingencies are endless." + +The undecided question as to whether the wound inflicted at Borodino +was mortal or not had hung over Kutuzov's head for a whole month. On +the one hand the French had occupied Moscow. On the other Kutuzov felt +assured with all his being that the terrible blow into which he and +all the Russians had put their whole strength must have been mortal. +But in any case proofs were needed; he had waited a whole month for +them and grew more impatient the longer he waited. Lying on his bed +during those sleepless nights he did just what he reproached those +younger generals for doing. He imagined all sorts of possible +contingencies, just like the younger men, but with this difference, +that he saw thousands of contingencies instead of two or three and +based nothing on them. The longer he thought the more contingencies +presented themselves. He imagined all sorts of movements of the +Napoleonic army as a whole or in sections- against Petersburg, or +against him, or to outflank him. He thought too of the possibility +(which he feared most of all) that Napoleon might fight him with his +own weapon and remain in Moscow awaiting him. Kutuzov even imagined +that Napoleon's army might turn back through Medyn and Yukhnov, but +the one thing he could not foresee was what happened- the insane, +convulsive stampede of Napoleon's army during its first eleven days +after leaving Moscow: a stampede which made possible what Kutuzov +had not yet even dared to think of- the complete extermination of +the French. Dorokhov's report about Broussier's division, the +guerrillas' reports of distress in Napoleon's army, rumors of +preparations for leaving Moscow, all confirmed the supposition that +the French army was beaten and preparing for flight. But these were +only suppositions, which seemed important to the younger men but not +to Kutuzov. With his sixty years' experience he knew what value to +attach to rumors, knew how apt people who desire anything are to group +all news so that it appears to confirm what they desire, and he knew +how readily in such cases they omit all that makes for the contrary. +And the more he desired it the less he allowed himself to believe +it. This question absorbed all his mental powers. All else was to +him only life's customary routine. To such customary routine +belonged his conversations with the staff, the letters he wrote from +Tarutino to Madame de Stael, the reading of novels, the distribution +of awards, his correspondence with Petersburg, and so on. But the +destruction of the French, which he alone foresaw, was his heart's one +desire. + +On the night of the eleventh of October he lay leaning on his arm +and thinking of that. + +There was a stir in the next room and he heard the steps of Toll, +Konovnitsyn, and Bolkhovitinov. + +"Eh, who's there? Come in, come in! What news?" the field marshal +called out to them. + +While a footman was lighting a candle, Toll communicated the +substance of the news. + +"Who brought it?" asked Kutuzov with a look which, when the candle +was lit, struck Toll by its cold severity. + +"There can be no doubt about it, your Highness." + +"Call him in, call him here." + +Kutuzov sat up with one leg hanging down from the bed and his big +paunch resting against the other which was doubled under him. He +screwed up his seeing eye to scrutinize the messenger more +carefully, as if wishing to read in his face what preoccupied his +own mind. + +"Tell me, tell me, friend," said he to Bolkhovitinov in his low, +aged voice, as he pulled together the shirt which gaped open on his +chest, "come nearer- nearer. What news have you brought me? Eh? That +Napoleon has left Moscow? Are you sure? Eh?" + +Bolkhovitinov gave a detailed account from the beginning of all he +had been told to report. + +"Speak quicker, quicker! Don't torture me!" Kutuzov interrupted him. + +Bolkhovitinov told him everything and was then silent, awaiting +instructions. Toll was beginning to say something but Kutuzov +checked him. He tried to say something, but his face suddenly puckered +and wrinkled; he waved his arm at Toll and turned to the opposite side +of the room, to the corner darkened by the icons that hung there. + +"O Lord, my Creator, Thou has heard our prayer..." said he in a +tremulous voice with folded hands. "Russia is saved. I thank Thee, O +Lord!" and he wept. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +From the time he received this news to the end of the campaign all +Kutuzov's activity was directed toward restraining his troops, by +authority, by guile, and by entreaty, from useless attacks, maneuvers, +or encounters with the perishing enemy. Dokhturov went to +Malo-Yaroslavets, but Kutuzov lingered with the main army and gave +orders for the evacuation of Kaluga- a retreat beyond which town +seemed to him quite possible. + +Everywhere Kutuzov retreated, but the enemy without waiting for +his retreat fled in the opposite direction. + +Napoleon's historians describe to us his skilled maneuvers at +Tarutino and Malo-Yaroslavets, and make conjectures as to what would +have happened had Napoleon been in time to penetrate into the rich +southern provinces. + +But not to speak of the fact that nothing prevented him from +advancing into those southern provinces (for the Russian army did +not bar his way), the historians forget that nothing could have +saved his army, for then already it bore within itself the germs of +inevitable ruin. How could that army- which had found abundant +supplies in Moscow and had trampled them underfoot instead of +keeping them, and on arriving at Smolensk had looted provisions +instead of storing them- how could that army recuperate in Kaluga +province, which was inhabited by Russians such as those who lived in +Moscow, and where fire had the same property of consuming what was set +ablaze? + +That army could not recover anywhere. Since the battle of Borodino +and the pillage of Moscow it had borne within itself, as it were, +the chemical elements of dissolution. + +The members of what had once been an army- Napoleon himself and +all his soldiers fled- without knowing whither, each concerned only to +make his escape as quickly as possible from this position, of the +hopelessness of which they were all more or less vaguely conscious. + +So it came about that at the council at Malo-Yaroslavets, when the +generals pretending to confer together expressed various opinions, all +mouths were closed by the opinion uttered by the simple-minded soldier +Mouton who, speaking last, said what they all felt: that the one thing +needful was to get away as quickly as possible; and no one, not even +Napoleon, could say anything against that truth which they all +recognized. + +But though they all realized that it was necessary to get away, +there still remained a feeling of shame at admitting that they must +flee. An external shock was needed to overcome that shame, and this +shock came in due time. It was what the French called "le hourra de +l'Empereur." + +The day after the council at Malo-Yaroslavets Napoleon rode out +early in the morning amid the lines of his army with his suite of +marshals and an escort, on the pretext of inspecting the army and +the scene of the previous and of the impending battle. Some Cossacks +on the prowl for booty fell in with the Emperor and very nearly +captured him. If the Cossacks did not capture Napoleon then, what +saved him was the very thing that was destroying the French army, +the booty on which the Cossacks fell. Here as at Tarutino they went +after plunder, leaving the men. Disregarding Napoleon they rushed +after the plunder and Napoleon managed to escape. + +When les enfants du Don might so easily have taken the Emperor +himself in the midst of his army, it was clear that there was +nothing for it but to fly as fast as possible along the nearest, +familiar road. Napoleon with his forty-year-old stomach understood +that hint, not feeling his former agility and boldness, and under +the influence of the fright the Cossacks had given him he at once +agreed with Mouton and issued orders- as the historians tell us- to +retreat by the Smolensk road. + +That Napoleon agreed with Mouton, and that the army retreated, +does not prove that Napoleon caused it to retreat, but that the forces +which influenced the whole army and directed it along the Mozhaysk +(that is, the Smolensk) road acted simultaneously on him also. + +CHAPTER XIX + +A man in motion always devises an aim for that motion. To be able to +go a thousand miles he must imagine that something good awaits him +at the end of those thousand miles. One must have the prospect of a +promised land to have the strength to move. + +The promised land for the French during their advance had been +Moscow, during their retreat it was their native land. But that native +land was too far off, and for a man going a thousand miles it is +absolutely necessary to set aside his final goal and to say to +himself: "Today I shall get to a place twenty-five miles off where I +shall rest and spend the night," and during the first day's journey +that resting place eclipses his ultimate goal and attracts all his +hopes and desires. And the impulses felt by a single person are always +magnified in a crowd. + +For the French retreating along the old Smolensk road, the final +goal- their native land- was too remote, and their immediate goal +was Smolensk, toward which all their desires and hopes, enormously +intensified in the mass, urged them on. It was not that they knew that +much food and fresh troops awaited them in Smolensk, nor that they +were told so (on the contrary their superior officers, and Napoleon +himself, knew that provisions were scarce there), but because this +alone could give them strength to move on and endure their present +privations. So both those who knew and those who did not know deceived +themselves, and pushed on to Smolensk as to a promised land. + +Coming out onto the highroad the French fled with surprising +energy and unheard-of rapidity toward the goal they had fixed on. +Besides the common impulse which bound the whole crowd of French +into one mass and supplied them with a certain energy, there was +another cause binding them together- their great numbers. As with +the physical law of gravity, their enormous mass drew the individual +human atoms to itself. In their hundreds of thousands they moved +like a whole nation. + +Each of them desired nothing more than to give himself up as a +prisoner to escape from all this horror and misery; but on the one +hand the force of this common attraction to Smolensk, their goal, drew +each of them in the same direction; on the other hand an army corps +could not surrender to a company, and though the French availed +themselves of every convenient opportunity to detach themselves and to +surrender on the slightest decent pretext, such pretexts did not +always occur. Their very numbers and their crowded and swift +movement deprived them of that possibility and rendered it not only +difficult but impossible for the Russians to stop this movement, to +which the French were directing all their energies. Beyond a certain +limit no mechanical disruption of the body could hasten the process of +decomposition. + +A lump of snow cannot be melted instantaneously. There is a +certain limit of time in less than which no amount of heat can melt +the snow. On the contrary the greater the heat the more solidified the +remaining snow becomes. + +Of the Russian commanders Kutuzov alone understood this. When the +flight of the French army along the Smolensk road became well defined, +what Konovnitsyn had foreseen on the night of the eleventh of +October began to occur. The superior officers all wanted to +distinguish themselves, to cut off, to seize, to capture, and to +overthrow the French, and all clamored for action. + +Kutuzov alone used all his power (and such power is very limited +in the case of any commander in chief) to prevent an attack. + +He could not tell them what we say now: "Why fight, why block the +road, losing our own men and inhumanly slaughtering unfortunate +wretches? What is the use of that, when a third of their army has +melted away on the road from Moscow to Vyazma without any battle?" But +drawing from his aged wisdom what they could understand, he told +them of the golden bridge, and they laughed at and slandered him, +flinging themselves on, rending and exulting over the dying beast. + +Ermolov, Miloradovich, Platov, and others in proximity to the French +near Vyazma could not resist their desire to cut off and break up +two French corps, and by way of reporting their intention to Kutuzov +they sent him a blank sheet of paper in an envelope. + +And try as Kutuzov might to restrain the troops, our men attacked, +trying to bar the road. Infantry regiments, we are told, advanced to +the attack with music and with drums beating, and killed and lost +thousands of men. + +But they did not cut off or overthrow anybody and the French army, +closing up more firmly at the danger, continued, while steadily +melting away, to pursue its fatal path to Smolensk. + +BOOK FOURTEEN: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +The Battle of Borodino, with the occupation of Moscow that +followed it and the flight of the French without further conflicts, is +one of the most instructive phenomena in history. + +All historians agree that the external activity of states and +nations in their conflicts with one another is expressed in wars, +and that as a direct result of greater or less success in war the +political strength of states and nations increases or decreases. + +Strange as may be the historical account of how some king or +emperor, having quarreled with another, collects an army, fights his +enemy's army, gains a victory by killing three, five, or ten +thousand men, and subjugates a kingdom and an entire nation of several +millions, all the facts of history (as far as we know it) confirm +the truth of the statement that the greater or lesser success of one +army against another is the cause, or at least an essential +indication, of an increase or decrease in the strength of the +nation- even though it is unintelligible why the defeat of an army- +a hundredth part of a nation- should oblige that whole nation to +submit. An army gains a victory, and at once the rights of the +conquering nation have increased to the detriment of the defeated. +An army has suffered defeat, and at once a people loses its rights +in proportion to the severity of the reverse, and if its army +suffers a complete defeat the nation is quite subjugated. + +So according to history it has been found from the most ancient +times, and so it is to our own day. All Napoleon's wars serve to +confirm this rule. In proportion to the defeat of the Austrian army +Austria loses its rights, and the rights and the strength of France +increase. The victories of the French at Jena and Auerstadt destroy +the independent existence of Prussia. + +But then, in 1812, the French gain a victory near Moscow. Moscow +is taken and after that, with no further battles, it is not Russia +that ceases to exist, but the French army of six hundred thousand, and +then Napoleonic France itself. To strain the facts to fit the rules of +history: to say that the field of battle at Borodino remained in the +hands of the Russians, or that after Moscow there were other battles +that destroyed Napoleon's army, is impossible. + +After the French victory at Borodino there was no general engagement +nor any that were at all serious, yet the French army ceased to exist. +What does this mean? If it were an example taken from the history of +China, we might say that it was not an historic phenomenon (which is +the historians' usual expedient when anything does not fit their +standards); if the matter concerned some brief conflict in which +only a small number of troops took part, we might treat it as an +exception; but this event occurred before our fathers' eyes, and for +them it was a question of the life or death of their fatherland, and +it happened in the greatest of all known wars. + +The period of the campaign of 1812 from the battle of Borodino to +the expulsion of the French proved that the winning of a battle does +not produce a conquest and is not even an invariable indication of +conquest; it proved that the force which decides the fate of peoples +lies not in the conquerors, nor even in armies and battles, but in +something else. + +The French historians, describing the condition of the French army +before it left Moscow, affirm that all was in order in the Grand Army, +except the cavalry, the artillery, and the transport- there was no +forage for the horses or the cattle. That was a misfortune no one +could remedy, for the peasants of the district burned their hay rather +than let the French have it. + +The victory gained did not bring the usual results because the +peasants Karp and Vlas (who after the French had evacuated Moscow +drove in their carts to pillage the town, and in general personally +failed to manifest any heroic feelings), and the whole innumerable +multitude of such peasants, did not bring their hay to Moscow for +the high price offered them, but burned it instead. + +Let us imagine two men who have come out to fight a duel with +rapiers according to all the rules of the art of fencing. The +fencing has gone on for some time; suddenly one of the combatants, +feeling himself wounded and understanding that the matter is no joke +but concerns his life, throws down his rapier, and seizing the first +cudgel that comes to hand begins to brandish it. Then let us imagine +that the combatant who so sensibly employed the best and simplest +means to attain his end was at the same time influenced by +traditions of chivalry and, desiring to conceal the facts of the case, +insisted that he had gained his victory with the rapier according to +all the rules of art. One can imagine what confusion and obscurity +would result from such an account of the duel. + +The fencer who demanded a contest according to the rules of +fencing was the French army; his opponent who threw away the rapier +and snatched up the cudgel was the Russian people; those who try to +explain the matter according to the rules of fencing are the +historians who have described the event. + +After the burning of Smolensk a war began which did not follow any +previous traditions of war. The burning of towns and villages, the +retreats after battles, the blow dealt at Borodino and the renewed +retreat, the burning of Moscow, the capture of marauders, the +seizure of transports, and the guerrilla war were all departures +from the rules. + +Napoleon felt this, and from the time he took up the correct fencing +attitude in Moscow and instead of his opponent's rapier saw a cudgel +raised above his head, he did not cease to complain to Kutuzov and +to the Emperor Alexander that the war was being carried on contrary to +all the rules- as if there were any rules for killing people. In spite +of the complaints of the French as to the nonobservance of the +rules, in spite of the fact that to some highly placed Russians it +seemed rather disgraceful to fight with a cudgel and they wanted to +assume a pose en quarte or en tierce according to all the rules, and +to make an adroit thrust en prime, and so on- the cudgel of the +people's war was lifted with all its menacing and majestic strength, +and without consulting anyone's tastes or rules and regardless of +anything else, it rose and fell with stupid simplicity, but +consistently, and belabored the French till the whole invasion had +perished. + +And it is well for a people who do not- as the French did in 1813- +salute according to all the rules of art, and, presenting the hilt +of their rapier gracefully and politely, hand it to their +magnanimous conqueror, but at the moment of trial, without asking what +rules others have adopted in similar cases, simply and easily pick +up the first cudgel that comes to hand and strike with it till the +feeling of resentment and revenge in their soul yields to a feeling of +contempt and compassion. + +CHAPTER II + +One of the most obvious and advantageous departures from the +so-called laws of war is the action of scattered groups against men +pressed together in a mass. Such action always occurs in wars that +take on a national character. In such actions, instead of two crowds +opposing each other, the men disperse, attack singly, run away when +attacked by stronger forces, but again attack when opportunity offers. +This was done by the guerrillas in Spain, by the mountain tribes in +the Caucasus, and by the Russians in 1812. + +People have called this kind of war "guerrilla warfare" and assume +that by so calling it they have explained its meaning. But such a +war does not fit in under any rule and is directly opposed to a +well-known rule of tactics which is accepted as infallible. That +rule says that an attacker should concentrate his forces in order to +be stronger than his opponent at the moment of conflict. + +Guerrilla war (always successful, as history shows) directly +infringes that rule. + +This contradiction arises from the fact that military science +assumes the strength of an army to be identical with its numbers. +Military science says that the more troops the greater the strength. +Les gros bataillons ont toujours raison.~^ + +^~ Large battalions are always victorious. + +For military science to say this is like defining momentum in +mechanics by reference to the mass only: stating that momenta are +equal or unequal to each other simply because the masses involved +are equal or unequal. + +Momentum (quantity of motion) is the product of mass and velocity. + +In military affairs the strength of an army is the product of its +mass and some unknown x. + +Military science, seeing in history innumerable instances of the +fact that the size of any army does not coincide with its strength and +that small detachments defeat larger ones, obscurely admits the +existence of this unknown factor and tries to discover it- now in a +geometric formation, now in the equipment employed, now, and most +usually, in the genius of the commanders. But the assignment of +these various meanings to the factor does not yield results which +accord with the historic facts. + +Yet it is only necessary to abandon the false view (adopted to +gratify the "heroes") of the efficacy of the directions issued in +wartime by commanders, in order to find this unknown quantity. + +That unknown quantity is the spirit of the army, that is to say, the +greater or lesser readiness to fight and face danger felt by all the +men composing an army, quite independently of whether they are, or are +not, fighting under the command of a genius, in two- or three-line +formation, with cudgels or with rifles that repeat thirty times a +minute. Men who want to fight will always put themselves in the most +advantageous conditions for fighting. + +The spirit of an army is the factor which multiplied by the mass +gives the resulting force. To define and express the significance of +this unknown factor- the spirit of an army- is a problem for science. + +This problem is only solvable if we cease arbitrarily to +substitute for the unknown x itself the conditions under which that +force becomes apparent- such as the commands of the general, the +equipment employed, and so on- mistaking these for the real +significance of the factor, and if we recognize this unknown +quantity in its entirety as being the greater or lesser desire to +fight and to face danger. Only then, expressing known historic facts +by equations and comparing the relative significance of this factor, +can we hope to define the unknown. + +Ten men, battalions, or divisions, fighting fifteen men, battalions, +or divisions, conquer- that is, kill or take captive- all the +others, while themselves losing four, so that on the one side four and +on the other fifteen were lost. Consequently the four were equal to +the fifteen, and therefore 4x = 15y. Consequently x/y = 15/4. This +equation does not give us the value of the unknown factor but gives us +a ratio between two unknowns. And by bringing variously selected +historic units (battles, campaigns, periods of war) into such +equations, a series of numbers could be obtained in which certain laws +should exist and might be discovered. + +The tactical rule that an army should act in masses when +attacking, and in smaller groups in retreat, unconsciously confirms +the truth that the strength of an army depends on its spirit. To +lead men forward under fire more discipline (obtainable only by +movement in masses) is needed than is needed to resist attacks. But +this rule which leaves out of account the spirit of the army +continually proves incorrect and is in particularly striking +contrast to the facts when some strong rise or fall in the spirit of +the troops occurs, as in all national wars. + +The French, retreating in 1812- though according to tactics they +should have separated into detachments to defend themselves- +congregated into a mass because the spirit of the army had so fallen +that only the mass held the army together. The Russians, on the +contrary, ought according to tactics to have attacked in mass, but +in fact they split up into small units, because their spirit had so +risen that separate individuals, without orders, dealt blows at the +French without needing any compulsion to induce them to expose +themselves to hardships and dangers. + +CHAPTER III + +The so-called partisan war began with the entry of the French into +Smolensk. + +Before partisan warfare had been officially recognized by the +government, thousands of enemy stragglers, marauders, and foragers had +been destroyed by the Cossacks and the peasants, who killed them off +as instinctively as dogs worry a stray mad dog to death. Denis +Davydov, with his Russian instinct, was the first to recognize the +value of this terrible cudgel which regardless of the rules of +military science destroyed the French, and to him belongs the credit +for taking the first step toward regularizing this method of warfare. + +On August 24 Davydov's first partisan detachment was formed and then +others were recognized. The further the campaign progressed the more +numerous these detachments became. + +The irregulars destroyed the great army piecemeal. They gathered the +fallen leaves that dropped of themselves from that withered tree- +the French army- and sometimes shook that tree itself. By October, +when the French were fleeing toward Smolensk, there were hundreds of +such companies, of various sizes and characters. There were some +that adopted all the army methods and had infantry, artillery, staffs, +and the comforts of life. Others consisted solely of Cossack +cavalry. There were also small scratch groups of foot and horse, and +groups of peasants and landowners that remained unknown. A sacristan +commanded one party which captured several hundred prisoners in the +course of a month; and there was Vasilisa, the wife of a village +elder, who slew hundreds of the French. + +The partisan warfare flamed up most fiercely in the latter days of +October. Its first period had passed: when the partisans themselves, +amazed at their own boldness, feared every minute to be surrounded and +captured by the French, and hid in the forests without unsaddling, +hardly daring to dismount and always expecting to be pursued. By the +end of October this kind of warfare had taken definite shape: it had +become clear to all what could be ventured against the French and what +could not. Now only the commanders of detachments with staffs, and +moving according to rules at a distance from the French, still +regarded many things as impossible. The small bands that had started +their activities long before and had already observed the French +closely considered things possible which the commanders of the big +detachments did not dare to contemplate. The Cossacks and peasants who +crept in among the French now considered everything possible. + +On October 22, Denisov (who was one of the irregulars) was with +his group at the height of the guerrilla enthusiasm. Since early +morning he and his party had been on the move. All day long he had +been watching from the forest that skirted the highroad a large French +convoy of cavalry baggage and Russian prisoners separated from the +rest of the army, which- as was learned from spies and prisoners- +was moving under a strong escort to Smolensk. Besides Denisov and +Dolokhov (who also led a small party and moved in Denisov's vicinity), +the commanders of some large divisions with staffs also knew of this +convoy and, as Denisov expressed it, were sharpening their teeth for +it. Two of the commanders of large parties- one a Pole and the other a +German- sent invitations to Denisov almost simultaneously, +requesting him to join up with their divisions to attack the convoy. + +"No, bwother, I have gwown mustaches myself," said Denisov on +reading these documents, and he wrote to the German that, despite +his heartfelt desire to serve under so valiant and renowned a general, +he had to forgo that pleasure because he was already under the command +of the Polish general. To the Polish general he replied to the same +effect, informing him that he was already under the command of the +German. + +Having arranged matters thus, Denisov and Dolokhov intended, without +reporting matters to the higher command, to attack and seize that +convoy with their own small forces. On October 22 it was moving from +the village of Mikulino to that of Shamshevo. To the left of the +road between Mikulino and Shamshevo there were large forests, +extending in some places up to the road itself though in others a mile +or more back from it. Through these forests Denisov and his party rode +all day, sometimes keeping well back in them and sometimes coming to +the very edge, but never losing sight of the moving French. That +morning, Cossacks of Denisov's party had seized and carried off into +the forest two wagons loaded with cavalry saddles, which had stuck +in the mud not far from Mikulino where the forest ran close to the +road. Since then, and until evening, the party had the movements of +the French without attacking. It was necessary to let the French reach +Shamshevo quietly without alarming them and then, after joining +Dolokhov who was to come that evening to a consultation at a +watchman's hut in the forest less than a mile from Shamshevo, to +surprise the French at dawn, falling like an avalanche on their +heads from two sides, and rout and capture them all at one blow. + +In their rear, more than a mile from Mikulino where the forest +came right up to the road, six Cossacks were posted to report if any +fresh columns of French should show themselves. + +Beyond Shamshevo, Dolokhov was to observe the road in the same +way, to find out at what distance there were other French troops. They +reckoned that the convoy had fifteen hundred men. Denisov had two +hundred, and Dolokhov might have as many more, but the disparity of +numbers did not deter Denisov. All that he now wanted to know was what +troops these were and to learn that he had to capture a "tongue"- that +is, a man from the enemy column. That morning's attack on the wagons +had been made so hastily that the Frenchmen with the wagons had all +been killed; only a little drummer boy had been taken alive, and as he +was a straggler he could tell them nothing definite about the troops +in that column. + +Denisov considered it dangerous to make a second attack for fear +of putting the whole column on the alert, so he sent Tikhon +Shcherbaty, a peasant of his party, to Shamshevo to try and seize at +least one of the French quartermasters who had been sent on in +advance. + +CHAPTER IV + +It was a warm rainy autumn day. The sky and the horizon were both +the color of muddy water. At times a sort of mist descended, and +then suddenly heavy slanting rain came down. + +Denisov in a felt cloak and a sheepskin cap from which the rain +ran down was riding a thin thoroughbred horse with sunken sides. +Like his horse, which turned its head and laid its ears back, he +shrank from the driving rain and gazed anxiously before him. His +thin face with its short, thick black beard looked angry. + +Beside Denisov rode an esaul,~^ Denisov's fellow worker, also in felt +cloak and sheepskin cap, and riding a large sleek Don horse. + +^~ A captain of Cossacks. + +Esaul Lovayski the Third was a tall man as straight as an arrow, +pale-faced, fair-haired, with narrow light eyes and with calm +self-satisfaction in his face and bearing. Though it was impossible to +say in what the peculiarity of the horse and rider lay, yet at first +glance at the esaul and Denisov one saw that the latter was wet and +uncomfortable and was a man mounted on a horse, while looking at the +esaul one saw that he was as comfortable and as much at ease as always +and that he was not a man who had mounted a horse, but a man who was +one with his horse, a being consequently possessed of twofold +strength. + +A little ahead of them walked a peasant guide, wet to the skin and +wearing a gray peasant coat and a white knitted cap. + +A little behind, on a poor, small, lean Kirghiz mount with an +enormous tail and mane and a bleeding mouth, rode a young officer in a +blue French overcoat. + +Beside him rode an hussar, with a boy in a tattered French uniform +and blue cap behind him on the crupper of his horse. The boy held on +to the hussar with cold, red hands, and raising his eyebrows gazed +about him with surprise. This was the French drummer boy captured that +morning. + +Behind them along the narrow, sodden, cutup forest road came hussars +in threes and fours, and then Cossacks: some in felt cloaks, some in +French greatcoats, and some with horsecloths over their heads. The +horses, being drenched by the rain, all looked black whether +chestnut or bay. Their necks, with their wet, close-clinging manes, +looked strangely thin. Steam rose from them. Clothes, saddles, +reins, were all wet, slippery, and sodden, like the ground and the +fallen leaves that strewed the road. The men sat huddled up trying not +to stir, so as to warm the water that had trickled to their bodies and +not admit the fresh cold water that was leaking in under their +seats, their knees, and at the back of their necks. In the midst of +the outspread line of Cossacks two wagons, drawn by French horses +and by saddled Cossack horses that had been hitched on in front, +rumbled over the tree stumps and branches and splashed through the +water that lay in the ruts. + +Denisov's horse swerved aside to avoid a pool in the track and +bumped his rider's knee against a tree. + +"Oh, the devil!" exclaimed Denisov angrily, and showing his teeth he +struck his horse three times with his whip, splashing himself and +his comrades with mud. + +Denisov was out of sorts both because of the rain and also from +hunger (none of them had eaten anything since morning), and yet more +because he still had no news from Dolokhov and the man sent to capture +a "tongue" had not returned. + +"There'll hardly be another such chance to fall on a transport as +today. It's too risky to attack them by oneself, and if we put it +off till another day one of the big guerrilla detachments will +snatch the prey from under our noses," thought Denisov, continually +peering forward, hoping to see a messenger from Dolokhov. + +On coming to a path in the forest along which he could see far to +the right, Denisov stopped. + +"There's someone coming," said he. + +The esaul looked in the direction Denisov indicated. + +"There are two, an officer and a Cossack. But it is not +presupposable that it is the lieutenant colonel himself," said the +esaul, who was fond of using words the Cossacks did not know. + +The approaching riders having descended a decline were no longer +visible, but they reappeared a few minutes later. In front, at a weary +gallop and using his leather whip, rode an officer, disheveled and +drenched, whose trousers had worked up to above his knees. Behind him, +standing in the stirrups, trotted a Cossack. The officer, a very young +lad with a broad rosy face and keen merry eyes, galloped up to Denisov +and handed him a sodden envelope. + +"From the general," said the officer. "Please excuse its not being +quite dry." + +Denisov, frowning, took the envelope and opened it. + +"There, they kept telling us: 'It's dangerous, it's dangerous,'" +said the officer, addressing the esaul while Denisov was reading the +dispatch. "But Komarov and I"- he pointed to the Cossack- "were +prepared. We have each of us two pistols.... But what's this?" he +asked, noticing the French drummer boy. "A prisoner? You've already +been in action? May I speak to him?" + +"Wostov! Petya!" exclaimed Denisov, having run through the dispatch. +"Why didn't you say who you were?" and turning with a smile he held +out his hand to the lad. + +The officer was Petya Rostov. + +All the way Petya had been preparing himself to behave with +Denisov as befitted a grownup man and an officer- without hinting at +their previous acquaintance. But as soon as Denisov smiled at him +Petya brightened up, blushed with pleasure, forgot the official manner +he had been rehearsing, and began telling him how he had already +been in a battle near Vyazma and how a certain hussar had +distinguished himself there. + +"Well, I am glad to see you," Denisov interrupted him, and his +face again assumed its anxious expression. + +"Michael Feoklitych," said he to the esaul, "this is again fwom that +German, you know. He"- he indicated Petya- "is serving under him." + +And Denisov told the esaul that the dispatch just delivered was a +repetition of the German general's demand that he should join forces +with him for an attack on the transport. + +"If we don't take it tomowwow, he'll snatch it fwom under our +noses," he added. + +While Denisov was talking to the esaul, Petya- abashed by +Denisov's cold tone and supposing that it was due to the condition +of his trousers- furtively tried to pull them down under his greatcoat +so that no one should notice it, while maintaining as martial an air +as possible. + +"Will there be any orders, your honor?" he asked Denisov, holding +his hand at the salute and resuming the game of adjutant and general +for which he had prepared himself, "or shall I remain with your +honor?" + +"Orders?" Denisov repeated thoughtfully. "But can you stay till +tomowwow?" + +"Oh, please... May I stay with you?" cried Petya. + +"But, just what did the genewal tell you? To weturn at once?" +asked Denisov. + +Petya blushed. + +"He gave me no instructions. I think I could?" he returned, +inquiringly. + +"Well, all wight," said Denisov. + +And turning to his men he directed a party to go on to the halting +place arranged near the watchman's hut in the forest, and told the +officer on the Kirghiz horse (who performed the duties of an adjutant) +to go and find out where Dolokhov was and whether he would come that +evening. Denisov himself intended going with the esaul and Petya to +the edge of the forest where it reached out to Shamshevo, to have a +look at the part of the French bivouac they were to attack next day. + +"Well, old fellow," said he to the peasant guide, "lead us to +Shamshevo." + +Denisov, Petya, and the esaul, accompanied by some Cossacks and +the hussar who had the prisoner, rode to the left across a ravine to +the edge of the forest. + +CHAPTER V + +The rain had stopped, and only the mist was falling and drops from +the trees. Denisov, the esaul, and Petya rode silently, following +the peasant in the knitted cap who, stepping lightly with outturned +toes and moving noiselessly in his bast shoes over the roots and wet +leaves, silently led them to the edge of the forest. + +He ascended an incline, stopped, looked about him, and advanced to +where the screen of trees was less dense. On reaching a large oak tree +that had not yet shed its leaves, he stopped and beckoned mysteriously +to them with his hand. + +Denisov and Petya rode up to him. From the spot where the peasant +was standing they could see the French. Immediately beyond the forest, +on a downward slope, lay a field of spring rye. To the right, beyond a +steep ravine, was a small village and a landowner's house with a +broken roof. In the village, in the house, in the garden, by the well, +by the pond, over all the rising ground, and all along the road uphill +from the bridge leading to the village, not more than five hundred +yards away, crowds of men could be seen through the shimmering mist. +Their un-Russian shouting at their horses which were straining +uphill with the carts, and their calls to one another, could be +clearly heard. + +"Bwing the prisoner here," said Denisov in a low voice, not taking +his eyes off the French. + +A Cossack dismounted, lifted the boy down, and took him to +Denisov. Pointing to the French troops, Denisov asked him what these +and those of them were. The boy, thrusting his cold hands into his +pockets and lifting his eyebrows, looked at Denisov in affright, but +in spite of an evident desire to say all he knew gave confused +answers, merely assenting to everything Denisov asked him. Denisov +turned away from him frowning and addressed the esaul, conveying his +own conjectures to him. + +Petya, rapidly turning his head, looked now at the drummer boy, +now at Denisov, now at the esaul, and now at the French in the village +and along the road, trying not to miss anything of importance. + +"Whether Dolokhov comes or not, we must seize it, eh?" said +Denisov with a merry sparkle in his eyes. + +"It is a very suitable spot," said the esaul. + +"We'll send the infantwy down by the swamps," Denisov continued. +"They'll cweep up to the garden; you'll wide up fwom there with the +Cossacks"- he pointed to a spot in the forest beyond the village- "and +I with my hussars fwom here. And at the signal shot..." + +"The hollow is impassable- there's a swamp there," said the esaul. +"The horses would sink. We must ride round more to the left...." + +While they were talking in undertones the crack of a shot sounded +from the low ground by the pond, a puff of white smoke appeared, +then another, and the sound of hundreds of seemingly merry French +voices shouting together came up from the slope. For a moment +Denisov and the esaul drew back. They were so near that they thought +they were the cause of the firing and shouting. But the firing and +shouting did not relate to them. Down below, a man wearing something +red was running through the marsh. The French were evidently firing +and shouting at him. + +"Why, that's our Tikhon," said the esaul. + +"So it is! It is!" + +"The wascal!" said Denisov. + +"He'll get away!" said the esaul, screwing up his eyes. + +The man whom they called Tikhon, having run to the stream, plunged +in so that the water splashed in the air, and, having disappeared +for an instant, scrambled out on all fours, all black with the wet, +and ran on. The French who had been pursuing him stopped. + +"Smart, that!" said the esaul. + +"What a beast!" said Denisov with his former look of vexation. "What +has he been doing all this time?" + +"Who is he?" asked Petya. + +"He's our plastun. I sent him to capture a 'tongue.'" + +"Oh, yes," said Petya, nodding at the first words Denisov uttered as +if he understood it all, though he really did not understand +anything of it. + +Tikhon Shcherbaty was one of the most indispensable men in their +band. He was a peasant from Pokrovsk, near the river Gzhat. When +Denisov had come to Pokrovsk at the beginning of his operations and +had as usual summoned the village elder and asked him what he knew +about the French, the elder, as though shielding himself, had replied, +as all village elders did, that he had neither seen nor heard anything +of them. But when Denisov explained that his purpose was to kill the +French, and asked if no French had strayed that way, the elder replied +that some "more-orderers" had really been at their village, but that +Tikhon Shcherbaty was the only man who dealt with such matters. +Denisov had Tikhon called and, having praised him for his activity, +said a few words in the elder's presence about loyalty to the Tsar and +the country and the hatred of the French that all sons of the +fatherland should cherish. + +"We don't do the French any harm," said Tikhon, evidently frightened +by Denisov's words. "We only fooled about with the lads for fun, you +know! We killed a score or so of 'more-orderers,' but we did no harm +else..." + +Next day when Denisov had left Pokrovsk, having quite forgotten +about this peasant, it was reported to him that Tikhon had attached +himself to their party and asked to be allowed to remain with it. +Denisov gave orders to let him do so. + +Tikhon, who at first did rough work, laying campfires, fetching +water, flaying dead horses, and so on, soon showed a great liking +and aptitude for partisan warfare. At night he would go out for +booty and always brought back French clothing and weapons, and when +told to would bring in French captives also. Denisov then relieved him +from drudgery and began taking him with him when he went out on +expeditions and had him enrolled among the Cossacks. + +Tikhon did not like riding, and always went on foot, never lagging +behind the cavalry. He was armed with a musketoon (which he carried +rather as a joke), a pike and an ax, which latter he used as a wolf +uses its teeth, with equal case picking fleas out of its fur or +crunching thick bones. Tikhon with equal accuracy would split logs +with blows at arm's length, or holding the head of the ax would cut +thin little pegs or carve spoons. In Denisov's party he held a +peculiar and exceptional position. When anything particularly +difficult or nasty had to be done- to push a cart out of the mud +with one's shoulders, pull a horse out of a swamp by its tail, skin +it, slink in among the French, or walk more than thirty miles in a +day- everybody pointed laughingly at Tikhon. + +"It won't hurt that devil- he's as strong as a horse!" they said +of him. + +Once a Frenchman Tikhon was trying to capture fired a pistol at +him and shot him in the fleshy part of the back. That wound (which +Tikhon treated only with internal and external applications of +vodka) was the subject of the liveliest jokes by the whole detachment- +jokes in which Tikhon readily joined. + +"Hallo, mate! Never again? Gave you a twist?" the Cossacks would +banter him. And Tikhon, purposely writhing and making faces, pretended +to be angry and swore at the French with the funniest curses. The only +effect of this incident on Tikhon was that after being wounded he +seldom brought in prisoners. + +He was the bravest and most useful man in the party. No one found +more opportunities for attacking, no one captured or killed more +Frenchmen, and consequently he was made the buffoon of all the +Cossacks and hussars and willingly accepted that role. Now he had been +sent by Denisov overnight to Shamshevo to capture a "tongue." But +whether because he had not been content to take only one Frenchman +or because he had slept through the night, he had crept by day into +some bushes right among the French and, as Denisov had witnessed +from above, had been detected by them. + +CHAPTER VI + +After talking for some time with the esaul about next day's +attack, which now, seeing how near they were to the French, he +seemed to have definitely decided on, Denisov turned his horse and +rode back. + +"Now, my lad, we'll go and get dwy," he said to Petya. + +As they approached the watchhouse Denisov stopped, peering into +the forest. Among the trees a man with long legs and long, swinging +arms, wearing a short jacket, bast shoes, and a Kazan hat, was +approaching with long, light steps. He had a musketoon over his +shoulder and an ax stuck in his girdle. When he espied Denisov he +hastily threw something into the bushes, removed his sodden hat by its +floppy brim, and approached his commander. It was Tikhon. His wrinkled +and pockmarked face and narrow little eyes beamed with +self-satisfied merriment. He lifted his head high and gazed at Denisov +as if repressing a laugh. + +"Well, where did you disappear to?" inquired Denisov. + +"Where did I disappear to? I went to get Frenchmen," answered Tikhon +boldly and hurriedly, in a husky but melodious bass voice. + +"Why did you push yourself in there by daylight? You ass! Well, +why haven't you taken one?" + +"Oh, I took one all right," said Tikhon. + +"Where is he?" + +"You see, I took him first thing at dawn," Tikhon continued, +spreading out his flat feet with outturned toes in their bast shoes. +"I took him into the forest. Then I see he's no good and think I'll go +and fetch a likelier one." + +"You see?... What a wogue- it's just as I thought," said Denisov +to the esaul. "Why didn't you bwing that one?" + +"What was the good of bringing him?" Tikhon interrupted hastily +and angrily- "that one wouldn't have done for you. As if I don't +know what sort you want!" + +"What a bwute you are!... Well?" + +"I went for another one," Tikhon continued, "and I crept like this +through the wood and lay down." (He suddenly lay down on his stomach +with a supple movement to show how he had done it.) "One turned up and +I grabbed him, like this." (He jumped up quickly and lightly.) +"'Come along to the colonel,' I said. He starts yelling, and +suddenly there were four of them. They rushed at me with their +little swords. So I went for them with my ax, this way: 'What are +you up to?' says I. 'Christ be with you!'" shouted Tikhon, waving +his arms with an angry scowl and throwing out his chest. + +"Yes, we saw from the hill how you took to your heels through the +puddles!" said the esaul, screwing up his glittering eyes. + +Petya badly wanted to laugh, but noticed that they all refrained +from laughing. He turned his eyes rapidly from Tikhon's face to the +esaul's and Denisov's, unable to make out what it all meant. + +"Don't play the fool!" said Denisov, coughing angrily. "Why didn't +you bwing the first one?" + +Tikhon scratched his back with one hand and his head with the other, +then suddenly his whole face expanded into a beaming, foolish grin, +disclosing a gap where he had lost a tooth (that was why he was called +Shcherbaty- the gap-toothed). Denisov smiled, and Petya burst into a +peal of merry laughter in which Tikhon himself joined. + +"Oh, but he was a regular good-for-nothing," said Tikhon. "The +clothes on him- poor stuff! How could I bring him? And so rude, your +honor! Why, he says: 'I'm a general's son myself, I won't go!' he +says." + +"You are a bwute!" said Denisov. "I wanted to question..." + +"But I questioned him," said Tikhon. "He said he didn't know much. +'There are a lot of us,' he says, 'but all poor stuff- only soldiers +in name,' he says. 'Shout loud at them,' he says, 'and you'll take +them all,'" Tikhon concluded, looking cheerfully and resolutely into +Denisov's eyes. + +"I'll give you a hundwed sharp lashes- that'll teach you to play the +fool!" said Denisov severely. + +"But why are you angry?" remonstrated Tikhon, "just as if I'd +never seen your Frenchmen! Only wait till it gets dark and I'll +fetch you any of them you want- three if you like." + +"Well, let's go," said Denisov, and rode all the way to the +watchhouse in silence and frowning angrily. + +Tikhon followed behind and Petya heard the Cossacks laughing with +him and at him, about some pair of boots he had thrown into the +bushes. + +When the fit of laughter that had seized him at Tikhon's words and +smile had passed and Petya realized for a moment that this Tikhon +had killed a man, he felt uneasy. He looked round at the captive +drummer boy and felt a pang in his heart. But this uneasiness lasted +only a moment. He felt it necessary to hold his head higher, to +brace himself, and to question the esaul with an air of importance +about tomorrow's undertaking, that he might not be unworthy of the +company in which he found himself. + +The officer who had been sent to inquire met Denisov on the way with +the news that Dolokhov was soon coming and that all was well with him. + +Denisov at once cheered up and, calling Petya to him, said: "Well, +tell me about yourself." + +CHAPTER VII + +Petya, having left his people after their departure from Moscow, +joined his regiment and was soon taken as orderly by a general +commanding a large guerrilla detachment. From the time he received his +commission, and especially since he had joined the active army and +taken part in the battle of Vyazma, Petya had been in a constant state +of blissful excitement at being grown-up and in a perpetual ecstatic +hurry not to miss any chance to do something really heroic. He was +highly delighted with what he saw and experienced in the army, but +at the same time it always seemed to him that the really heroic +exploits were being performed just where he did not happen to be. +And he was always in a hurry to get where he was not. + +When on the twenty-first of October his general expressed a wish +to send somebody to Denisov's detachment, Petya begged so piteously to +be sent that the general could not refuse. But when dispatching him he +recalled Petya's mad action at the battle of Vyazma, where instead +of riding by the road to the place to which he had been sent, he had +galloped to the advanced line under the fire of the French and had +there twice fired his pistol. So now the general explicitly forbade +his taking part in any action whatever of Denisov's. That was why +Petya had blushed and grown confused when Denisov asked him whether he +could stay. Before they had ridden to the outskirts of the forest +Petya had considered he must carry out his instructions strictly and +return at once. But when he saw the French and saw Tikhon and +learned that there would certainly be an attack that night, he +decided, with the rapidity with which young people change their views, +that the general, whom he had greatly respected till then, was a +rubbishy German, that Denisov was a hero, the esaul a hero, and Tikhon +a hero too, and that it would be shameful for him to leave them at a +moment of difficulty. + +It was already growing dusk when Denisov, Petya, and the esaul +rode up to the watchhouse. In the twilight saddled horses could be +seen, and Cossacks and hussars who had rigged up rough shelters in the +glade and were kindling glowing fires in a hollow of the forest +where the French could not see the smoke. In the passage of the +small watchhouse a Cossack with sleeves rolled up was chopping some +mutton. In the room three officers of Denisov's band were converting a +door into a tabletop. Petya took off his wet clothes, gave them to +be dried, and at once began helping the officers to fix up the +dinner table. + +In ten minutes the table was ready and a napkin spread on it. On the +table were vodka, a flask of rum, white bread, roast mutton, and salt. + +Sitting at table with the officers and tearing the fat savory mutton +with his hands, down which the grease trickled, Petya was in an +ecstatic childish state of love for all men, and consequently of +confidence that others loved him in the same way. + +"So then what do you think, Vasili Dmitrich?" said he to Denisov. +"It's all right my staying a day with you?" And not waiting for a +reply he answered his own question: "You see I was told to find out- +well, I am finding out.... Only do let me into the very... into the +chief... I don't want a reward... But I want..." + +Petya clenched his teeth and looked around, throwing back his head +and flourishing his arms. + +"Into the vewy chief..." Denisov repeated with a smile. + +"Only, please let me command something, so that I may really +command..." Petya went on. "What would it be to you?... Oh, you want a +knife?" he said, turning to an officer who wished to cut himself a +piece of mutton. + +And he handed him his clasp knife. The officer admired it. + +"Please keep it. I have several like it," said Petya, blushing. +"Heavens! I was quite forgetting!" he suddenly cried. "I have some +raisins, fine ones; you know, seedless ones. We have a new sutler +and he has such capital things. I bought ten pounds. I am used to +something sweet. Would you like some?..." and Petya ran out into the +passage to his Cossack and brought back some bags which contained +about five pounds of raisins. "Have some, gentlemen, have some!" + +"You want a coffeepot, don't you?" he asked the esaul. "I bought a +capital one from our sutler! He has splendid things. And he's very +honest, that's the chief thing. I'll be sure to send it to you. Or +perhaps your flints are giving out, or are worn out- that happens +sometimes, you know. I have brought some with me, here they are"- +and he showed a bag- "a hundred flints. I bought them very cheap. +Please take as many as you want, or all if you like...." + +Then suddenly, dismayed lest he had said too much, Petya stopped and +blushed. + +He tried to remember whether he had not done anything else that +was foolish. And running over the events of the day he remembered +the French drummer boy. "It's capital for us here, but what of him? +Where have they put him? Have they fed him? Haven't they hurt his +feelings?" he thought. But having caught himself saying too much about +the flints, he was now afraid to speak out. + +"I might ask," he thought, "but they'll say: 'He's a boy himself and +so he pities the boy.' I'll show them tomorrow whether I'm a boy. Will +it seem odd if I ask?" Petya thought. "Well, never mind!" and +immediately, blushing and looking anxiously at the officers to see +if they appeared ironical, he said: + +"May I call in that boy who was taken prisoner and give him +something to eat?... Perhaps..." + +"Yes, he's a poor little fellow," said Denisov, who evidently saw +nothing shameful in this reminder. "Call him in. His name is Vincent +Bosse. Have him fetched." + +"I'll call him," said Petya. + +"Yes, yes, call him. A poor little fellow," Denisov repeated. + +Petya was standing at the door when Denisov said this. He slipped in +between the officers, came close to Denisov, and said: + +"Let me kiss you, dear old fellow! Oh, how fine, how splendid!" + +And having kissed Denisov he ran out of the hut. + +"Bosse! Vincent!" Petya cried, stopping outside the door. + +"Who do you want, sir?" asked a voice in the darkness. + +Petya replied that he wanted the French lad who had been captured +that day. + +"Ah, Vesenny?" said a Cossack. + +Vincent, the boy's name, had already been changed by the Cossacks +into Vesenny (vernal) and into Vesenya by the peasants and soldiers. +In both these adaptations the reference to spring (vesna) matched +the impression made by the young lad. + +"He is warming himself there by the bonfire. Ho, Vesenya! +Vesenya!- Vesenny!" laughing voices were heard calling to one +another in the darkness. + +"He's a smart lad," said an hussar standing near Petya. "We gave him +something to eat a while ago. He was awfully hungry!" + +The sound of bare feet splashing through the mud was heard in the +darkness, and the drummer boy came to the door. + +"Ah, c'est vous!" said Petya. "Voulez-vous manger? N'ayez pas +peur, on ne vous fera pas de mal,"~^ he added shyly and affectionately, +touching the boy's hand. "Entrez, entrez."~^ + +^~ "Ah, it's you! Do you want something to eat? Don't be afraid, +they won't hurt you." + +^~ "Come in, come in." + +"Merci, monsieur,"~^ said the drummer boy in a trembling almost +childish voice, and he began scraping his dirty feet on the threshold. + +^~ "Thank you, sir." + +There were many things Petya wanted to say to the drummer boy, but +did not dare to. He stood irresolutely beside him in the passage. Then +in the darkness he took the boy's hand and pressed it. + +"Come in, come in!" he repeated in a gentle whisper. "Oh, what can I +do for him?" he thought, and opening the door he let the boy pass in +first. + +When the boy had entered the hut, Petya sat down at a distance +from him, considering it beneath his dignity to pay attention to +him. But he fingered the money in his pocket and wondered whether it +would seem ridiculous to give some to the drummer boy. + +CHAPTER VIII + +The arrival of Dolokhov diverted Petya's attention from the +drummer boy, to whom Denisov had had some mutton and vodka given, +and whom he had had dressed in a Russian coat so that he might be kept +with their band and not sent away with the other prisoners. Petya +had heard in the army many stories of Dolokhov's extraordinary bravery +and of his cruelty to the French, so from the moment he entered the +hut Petya did not take his eyes from him, but braced himself up more +and more and held his head high, that he might not be unworthy even of +such company. + +Dolokhov's appearance amazed Petya by its simplicity. + +Denisov wore a Cossack coat, had a beard, had an icon of Nicholas +the Wonder-Worker on his breast, and his way of speaking and +everything he did indicated his unusual position. But Dolokhov, who in +Moscow had worn a Persian costume, had now the appearance of a most +correct officer of the Guards. He was clean-shaven and wore a +Guardsman's padded coat with an Order of St. George at his +buttonhole and a plain forage cap set straight on his head. He took +off his wet felt cloak in a corner of the room, and without greeting +anyone went up to Denisov and began questioning him about the matter +in hand. Denisov told him of the designs the large detachments had +on the transport, of the message Petya had brought, and his own +replies to both generals. Then he told him all he knew of the French +detachment. + +"That's so. But we must know what troops they are and their +numbers," said Dolokhov. "It will be necessary to go there. We can't +start the affair without knowing for certain how many there are. I +like to work accurately. Here now- wouldn't one of these gentlemen +like to ride over to the French camp with me? I have brought a spare +uniform." + +"I, I... I'll go with you!" cried Petya. + +"There's no need for you to go at all," said Denisov, addressing +Dolokhov, "and as for him, I won't let him go on any account." + +"I like that!" exclaimed Petya. "Why shouldn't I go?" + +"Because it's useless." + +"Well, you must excuse me, because... because... I shall go, and +that's all. You'll take me, won't you?" he said, turning to Dolokhov. + +"Why not?" Dolokhov answered absently, scrutinizing the face of +the French drummer boy. "Have you had that youngster with you long?" +he asked Denisov. + +"He was taken today but he knows nothing. I'm keeping him with me." + +"Yes, and where do you put the others?" inquired Dolokhov. + +"Where? I send them away and take a weceipt for them," shouted +Denisov, suddenly flushing. "And I say boldly that I have not a single +man's life on my conscience. Would it be difficult for you to send +thirty or thwee hundwed men to town under escort, instead of staining- +I speak bluntly- staining the honor of a soldier?" + +"That kind of amiable talk would be suitable from this young count +of sixteen," said Dolokhov with cold irony, "but it's time for you +to drop it." + +"Why, I've not said anything! I only say that I'll certainly go with +you," said Petya shyly. + +"But for you and me, old fellow, it's time to drop these amenities," +continued Dolokhov, as if he found particular pleasure in speaking +of this subject which irritated Denisov. "Now, why have you kept +this lad?" he went on, swaying his head. "Because you are sorry for +him! Don't we know those 'receipts' of yours? You send a hundred men +away, and thirty get there. The rest either starve or get killed. So +isn't it all the same not to send them?" + +The esaul, screwing up his light-colored eyes, nodded approvingly. + +"That's not the point. I'm not going to discuss the matter. I do not +wish to take it on my conscience. You say they'll die. All wight. Only +not by my fault!" + +Dolokhov began laughing. + +"Who has told them not to capture me these twenty times over? But if +they did catch me they'd string me up to an aspen tree, and with all +your chivalry just the same." He paused. "However, we must get to +work. Tell the Cossack to fetch my kit. I have two French uniforms +in it. Well, are you coming with me?" he asked Petya. + +"I? Yes, yes, certainly!" cried Petya, blushing almost to tears +and glancing at Denisov. + +While Dolokhov had been disputing with Denisov what should be done +with prisoners, Petya had once more felt awkward and restless; but +again he had no time to grasp fully what they were talking about. +"If grown-up, distinguished men think so, it must be necessary and +right," thought he. "But above all Denisov must not dare to imagine +that I'll obey him and that he can order me about. I will certainly go +to the French camp with Dolokhov. If he can, so can I!" + +And to all Denisov's persuasions, Petya replied that he too was +accustomed to do everything accurately and not just anyhow, and that +he never considered personal danger. + +"For you'll admit that if we don't know for sure how many of them +there are... hundreds of lives may depend on it, while there are +only two of us. Besides, I want to go very much and certainly will go, +so don't hinder me," said he. "It will only make things worse..." + +CHAPTER IX + +Having put on French greatcoats and shakos, Petya and Dolokhov +rode to the clearing from which Denisov had reconnoitered the French +camp, and emerging from the forest in pitch darkness they descended +into the hollow. On reaching the bottom, Dolokhov told the Cossacks +accompanying him to await him there and rode on at a quick trot +along the road to the bridge. Petya, his heart in his mouth with +excitement, rode by his side. + +"If we're caught, I won't be taken alive! I have a pistol," +whispered he. + +"Don't talk Russian," said Dolokhov in a hurried whisper, and at +that very moment they heard through the darkness the challenge: "Qui +vive?"~^ and the click of a musket. + +^~ "Who goes there?" + +The blood rushed to Petya's face and he grasped his pistol. + +"Lanciers du 6-me,"~^ replied Dolokhov, neither hastening nor +slackening his horse's pace. + +^~ "Lancers of the 6th Regiment." + +The black figure of a sentinel stood on the bridge. + +"Mot d'ordre."~^ + +^~ "Password." + +Dolokhov reined in his horse and advanced at a walk. + +"Dites donc, le colonel Gerard est ici?"~^ he asked. + +^~ "Tell me, is Colonel Gerard here?" + +"Mot d'ordre," repeated the sentinel, barring the way and not +replying. + +"Quand un officier fait sa ronde, les sentinelles ne demandent pas +le mot d'ordre..." cried Dolokhov suddenly flaring up and riding +straight at the sentinel. "Je vous demande si le colonel est ici."~^ + +^~ "When an officer is making his round, sentinels don't ask him for +the password.... I am asking you if the colonel is here." + +And without waiting for an answer from the sentinel, who had stepped +aside, Dolokhov rode up the incline at a walk. + +Noticing the black outline of a man crossing the road, Dolokhov +stopped him and inquired where the commander and officers were. The +man, a soldier with a sack over his shoulder, stopped, came close up +to Dolokhov's horse, touched it with his hand, and explained simply +and in a friendly way that the commander and the officers were +higher up the hill to the right in the courtyard of the farm, as he +called the landowner's house. + +Having ridden up the road, on both sides of which French talk +could be heard around the campfires, Dolokhov turned into the +courtyard of the landowner's house. Having ridden in, he dismounted +and approached a big blazing campfire, around which sat several men +talking noisily. Something was boiling in a small cauldron at the edge +of the fire and a soldier in a peaked cap and blue overcoat, lit up by +the fire, was kneeling beside it stirring its contents with a ramrod. + +"Oh, he's a hard nut to crack," said one of the officers who was +sitting in the shadow at the other side of the fire. + +"He'll make them get a move on, those fellows!" said another, +laughing. + +Both fell silent, peering out through the darkness at the sound of +Dolokhov's and Petya's steps as they advanced to the fire leading +their horses. + +"Bonjour, messieurs!"~^ said Dolokhov loudly and clearly. + +^~ "Good day, gentlemen." + +There was a stir among the officers in the shadow beyond the fire, +and one tall, long-necked officer, walking round the fire, came up +to Dolokhov. + +"Is that you, Clement?" he asked. "Where the devil...? But, noticing +his mistake, he broke off short and, with a frown, greeted Dolokhov as +a stranger, asking what he could do for him. + +Dolokhov said that he and his companion were trying to overtake +their regiment, and addressing the company in general asked whether +they knew anything of the 6th Regiment. None of them knew anything, +and Petya thought the officers were beginning to look at him and +Dolokhov with hostility and suspicion. For some seconds all were +silent. + +"If you were counting on the evening soup, you have come too +late," said a voice from behind the fire with a repressed laugh. + +Dolokhov replied that they were not hungry and must push on +farther that night. + +He handed the horses over to the soldier who was stirring the pot +and squatted down on his heels by the fire beside the officer with the +long neck. That officer did not take his eyes from Dolokhov and +again asked to what regiment he belonged. Dolokhov, as if he had not +heard the question, did not reply, but lighting a short French pipe +which he took from his pocket began asking the officer in how far +the road before them was safe from Cossacks. + +"Those brigands are everywhere," replied an officer from behind +the fire. + +Dolokhov remarked that the Cossacks were a danger only to stragglers +such as his companion and himself, "but probably they would not dare +to attack large detachments?" he added inquiringly. No one replied. + +"Well, now he'll come away," Petya thought every moment as he +stood by the campfire listening to the talk. + +But Dolokhov restarted the conversation which had dropped and +began putting direct questions as to how many men there were in the +battalion, how many battalions, and how many prisoners. Asking about +the Russian prisoners with that detachment, Dolokhov said: + +"A horrid business dragging these corpses about with one! It would +be better to shoot such rabble," and burst into loud laughter, so +strange that Petya thought the French would immediately detect their +disguise, and involuntarily took a step back from the campfire. + +No one replied a word to Dolokhov's laughter, and a French officer +whom they could not see (he lay wrapped in a greatcoat) rose and +whispered something to a companion. Dolokhov got up and called to +the soldier who was holding their horses. + +"Will they bring our horses or not?" thought Petya, instinctively +drawing nearer to Dolokhov. + +The horses were brought. + +"Good evening, gentlemen," said Dolokhov. + +Petya wished to say "Good night" but could not utter a word. The +officers were whispering together. Dolokhov was a long time mounting +his horse which would not stand still, then he rode out of the yard at +a footpace. Petya rode beside him, longing to look round to see +whether or no the French were running after them, but not daring to. + +Coming out onto the road Dolokhov did not ride back across the +open country, but through the village. At one spot he stopped and +listened. "Do you hear?" he asked. Petya recognized the sound of +Russian voices and saw the dark figures of Russian prisoners round +their campfires. When they had descended to the bridge Petya and +Dolokhov rode past the sentinel, who without saying a word paced +morosely up and down it, then they descended into the hollow where the +Cossacks awaited them. + +"Well now, good-by. Tell Denisov, 'at the first shot at +daybreak,'" said Dolokhov and was about to ride away, but Petya seized +hold of him. + +"Really!" he cried, "you are such a hero! Oh, how fine, how +splendid! How I love you!" + +"All right, all right!" said Dolokhov. But Petya did not let go of +him and Dolokhov saw through the gloom that Petya was bending toward +him and wanted to kiss him. Dolokhov kissed him, laughed, turned his +horse, and vanished into the darkness. + +CHAPTER X + +Having returned to the watchman's hut, Petya found Denisov in the +passage. He was awaiting Petya's return in a state of agitation, +anxiety, and self-reproach for having let him go. + +"Thank God!" he exclaimed. "Yes, thank God!" he repeated, +listening to Petya's rapturous account. "But, devil take you, I +haven't slept because of you! Well, thank God. Now lie down. We can +still get a nap before morning." + +"But... no," said Petya, "I don't want to sleep yet. Besides I +know myself, if I fall asleep it's finished. And then I am used to not +sleeping before a battle." + +He sat awhile in the hut joyfully recalling the details of his +expedition and vividly picturing to himself what would happen next +day. + +Then, noticing that Denisov was asleep, he rose and went out of +doors. + +It was still quite dark outside. The rain was over, but drops were +still falling from the trees. Near the watchman's hut the black shapes +of the Cossacks' shanties and of horses tethered together could be +seen. Behind the hut the dark shapes of the two wagons with their +horses beside them were discernible, and in the hollow the dying +campfire gleamed red. Not all the Cossacks and hussars were asleep; +here and there, amid the sounds of falling drops and the munching of +the horses near by, could be heard low voices which seemed to be +whispering. + +Petya came out, peered into the darkness, and went up to the wagons. +Someone was snoring under them, and around them stood saddled horses +munching their oats. In the dark Petya recognized his own horse, which +he called "Karabakh" though it was of Ukranian breed, and went up to +it. + +"Well, Karabakh! We'll do some service tomorrow," said he, +sniffing its nostrils and kissing it. + +"Why aren't you asleep, sir?" said a Cossack who was sitting under a +wagon. + +"No, ah... Likhachev- isn't that your name? Do you know I have +only just come back! We've been into the French camp." + +And Petya gave the Cossack a detailed account not only of his ride +but also of his object, and why he considered it better to risk his +life than to act "just anyhow." + +"Well, you should get some sleep now," said the Cossack. + +"No, I am used to this," said Petya. "I say, aren't the flints in +your pistols worn out? I brought some with me. Don't you want any? You +can have some." + +The Cossack bent forward from under the wagon to get a closer look +at Petya. + +"Because I am accustomed to doing everything accurately," said +Petya. "Some fellows do things just anyhow, without preparation, and +then they're sorry for it afterwards. I don't like that." + +"Just so," said the Cossack. + +"Oh yes, another thing! Please, my dear fellow, will you sharpen +my saber for me? It's got bl..." (Petya feared to tell a lie, and +the saber never had been sharpened.) "Can you do it?" + +"Of course I can." + +Likhachev got up, rummaged in his pack, and soon Petya heard the +warlike sound of steel on whetstone. He climbed onto the wagon and sat +on its edge. The Cossack was sharpening the saber under the wagon. + +"I say! Are the lads asleep?" asked Petya. + +"Some are, and some aren't- like us." + +"Well, and that boy?" + +"Vesenny? Oh, he's thrown himself down there in the passage. Fast +asleep after his fright. He was that glad!" + +After that Petya remained silent for a long time, listening to the +sounds. He heard footsteps in the darkness and a black figure +appeared. + +"What are you sharpening?" asked a man coming up to the wagon. + +"Why, this gentleman's saber." + +"That's right," said the man, whom Petya took to be an hussar. +"Was the cup left here?" + +"There, by the wheel!" + +The hussar took the cup. + +"It must be daylight soon," said he, yawning, and went away. + +Petya ought to have known that he was in a forest with Denisov's +guerrilla band, less than a mile from the road, sitting on a wagon +captured from the French beside which horses were tethered, that under +it Likhachev was sitting sharpening a saber for him, that the big dark +blotch to the right was the watchman's hut, and the red blotch below +to the left was the dying embers of a campfire, that the man who had +come for the cup was an hussar who wanted a drink; but he neither knew +nor waited to know anything of all this. He was in a fairy kingdom +where nothing resembled reality. The big dark blotch might really be +the watchman's hut or it might be a cavern leading to the very +depths of the earth. Perhaps the red spot was a fire, or it might be +the eye of an enormous monster. Perhaps he was really sitting on a +wagon, but it might very well be that he was not sitting on a wagon +but on a terribly high tower from which, if he fell, he would have +to fall for a whole day or a whole month, or go on falling and never +reach the bottom. Perhaps it was just the Cossack, Likhachev, who +was sitting under the wagon, but it might be the kindest, bravest, +most wonderful, most splendid man in the world, whom no one knew of. +It might really have been that the hussar came for water and went back +into the hollow, but perhaps he had simply vanished- disappeared +altogether and dissolved into nothingness. + +Nothing Petya could have seen now would have surprised him. He was +in a fairy kingdom where everything was possible. + +He looked up at the sky. And the sky was a fairy realm like the +earth. It was clearing, and over the tops of the trees clouds were +swiftly sailing as if unveiling the stars. Sometimes it looked as if +the clouds were passing, and a clear black sky appeared. Sometimes +it seemed as if the black spaces were clouds. Sometimes the sky seemed +to be rising high, high overhead, and then it seemed to sink so low +that one could touch it with one's hand. + +Petya's eyes began to close and he swayed a little. + +The trees were dripping. Quiet talking was heard. The horses neighed +and jostled one another. Someone snored. + +"Ozheg-zheg, Ozheg-zheg..." hissed the saber against the +whetstone, and suddenly Petya heard an harmonious orchestra playing +some unknown, sweetly solemn hymn. Petya was as musical as Natasha and +more so than Nicholas, but had never learned music or thought about +it, and so the melody that unexpectedly came to his mind seemed to him +particularly fresh and attractive. The music became more and more +audible. The melody grew and passed from one instrument to another. +And what was played was a fugue- though Petya had not the least +conception of what a fugue is. Each instrument- now resembling a +violin and now a horn, but better and clearer than violin or horn- +played its own part, and before it had finished the melody merged with +another instrument that began almost the same air, and then with a +third and a fourth; and they all blended into one and again became +separate and again blended, now into solemn church music, now into +something dazzlingly brilliant and triumphant. + +"Oh- why, that was in a dream!" Petya said to himself, as he lurched +forward. "It's in my ears. But perhaps it's music of my own. Well, +go on, my music! Now!..." + +He closed his eyes, and, from all sides as if from a distance, +sounds fluttered, grew into harmonies, separated, blended, and again +all mingled into the same sweet and solemn hymn. "Oh, this is +delightful! As much as I like and as I like!" said Petya to himself. +He tried to conduct that enormous orchestra. + +"Now softly, softly die away!" and the sounds obeyed him. "Now +fuller, more joyful. Still more and more joyful!" And from an +unknown depth rose increasingly triumphant sounds. "Now voices join +in!" ordered Petya. And at first from afar he heard men's voices and +then women's. The voices grew in harmonious triumphant strength, and +Petya listened to their surpassing beauty in awe and joy. + +With a solemn triumphal march there mingled a song, the drip from +the trees, and the hissing of the saber, "Ozheg-zheg-zheg..." and +again the horses jostled one another and neighed, not disturbing the +choir but joining in it. + +Petya did not know how long this lasted: he enjoyed himself all +the time, wondered at his enjoyment and regretted that there was no +one to share it. He was awakened by Likhachev's kindly voice. + +"It's ready, your honor; you can split a Frenchman in half with it!" + +Petya woke up. + +"It's getting light, it's really getting light!" he exclaimed. + +The horses that had previously been invisible could now be seen to +their very tails, and a watery light showed itself through the bare +branches. Petya shook himself, jumped up, took a ruble from his pocket +and gave it to Likhachev; then he flourished the saber, tested it, and +sheathed it. The Cossacks were untying their horses and tightening +their saddle girths. + +"And here's the commander," said Likhachev. + +Denisov came out of the watchman's hut and, having called Petya, +gave orders to get ready. + +CHAPTER XI + +The men rapidly picked out their horses in the semidarkness, +tightened their saddle girths, and formed companies. Denisov stood +by the watchman's hut giving final orders. The infantry of the +detachment passed along the road and quickly disappeared amid the +trees in the mist of early dawn, hundreds of feet splashing through +the mud. The esaul gave some orders to his men. Petya held his horse +by the bridle, impatiently awaiting the order to mount. His face, +having been bathed in cold water, was all aglow, and his eyes were +particularly brilliant. Cold shivers ran down his spine and his +whole body pulsed rhythmically. + +"Well, is ev'wything weady?" asked Denisov. "Bwing the horses." + +The horses were brought. Denisov was angry with the Cossack +because the saddle girths were too slack, reproved him, and mounted. +Petya put his foot in the stirrup. His horse by habit made as if to +nip his leg, but Petya leaped quickly into the saddle unconscious of +his own weight and, turning to look at the hussars starting in the +darkness behind him, rode up to Denisov. + +"Vasili Dmitrich, entrust me with some commission! Please... for +God's sake...!" said he. + +Denisov seemed to have forgotten Petya's very existence. He turned +to glance at him. + +"I ask one thing of you," he said sternly, "to obey me and not shove +yourself forward anywhere." + +He did not say another word to Petya but rode in silence all the +way. When they had come to the edge of the forest it was noticeably +growing light over the field. Denisov talked in whispers with the +esaul and the Cossacks rode past Petya and Denisov. When they had +all ridden by, Denisov touched his horse and rode down the hill. +Slipping onto their haunches and sliding, the horses descended with +their riders into the ravine. Petya rode beside Denisov, the pulsation +of his body constantly increasing. It was getting lighter and lighter, +but the mist still hid distant objects. Having reached the valley, +Denisov looked back and nodded to a Cossack beside him. + +"The signal!" said he. + +The Cossack raised his arm and a shot rang out. In an instant the +tramp of horses galloping forward was heard, shouts came from +various sides, and then more shots. + +At the first sound of trampling hoofs and shouting, Petya lashed his +horse and loosening his rein galloped forward, not heeding Denisov who +shouted at him. It seemed to Petya that at the moment the shot was +fired it suddenly became as bright as noon. He galloped to the bridge. +Cossacks were galloping along the road in front of him. On the +bridge he collided with a Cossack who had fallen behind, but he +galloped on. In front of him soldiers, probably Frenchmen, were +running from right to left across the road. One of them fell in the +mud under his horse's feet. + +Cossacks were crowding about a hut, busy with something. From the +midst of that crowd terrible screams arose. Petya galloped up, and the +first thing he saw was the pale face and trembling jaw of a Frenchman, +clutching the handle of a lance that had been aimed at him. + +"Hurrah!... Lads!... ours!" shouted Petya, and giving rein to his +excited horse he galloped forward along the village street. + +He could hear shooting ahead of him. Cossacks, hussars, and ragged +Russian prisoners, who had come running from both sides of the road, +were shouting something loudly and incoherently. A gallant-looking +Frenchman, in a blue overcoat, capless, and with a frowning red +face, had been defending himself against the hussars. When Petya +galloped up the Frenchman had already fallen. "Too late again!" +flashed through Petya's mind and he galloped on to the place from +which the rapid firing could be heard. The shots came from the yard of +the landowner's house he had visited the night before with Dolokhov. +The French were making a stand there behind a wattle fence in a garden +thickly overgrown with bushes and were firing at the Cossacks who +crowded at the gateway. Through the smoke, as he approached the +gate, Petya saw Dolokhov, whose face was of a pale-greenish tint, +shouting to his men. "Go round! Wait for the infantry!" he exclaimed +as Petya rode up to him. + +"Wait?... Hurrah-ah-ah!" shouted Petya, and without pausing a moment +galloped to the place whence came the sounds of firing and where the +smoke was thickest. + +A volley was heard, and some bullets whistled past, while others +plashed against something. The Cossacks and Dolokhov galloped after +Petya into the gateway of the courtyard. In the dense wavering smoke +some of the French threw down their arms and ran out of the bushes +to meet the Cossacks, while others ran down the hill toward the +pond. Petya was galloping along the courtyard, but instead of +holding the reins he waved both his arms about rapidly and +strangely, slipping farther and farther to one side in his saddle. His +horse, having galloped up to a campfire that was smoldering in the +morning light, stopped suddenly, and Petya fell heavily on to the +wet ground. The Cossacks saw that his arms and legs jerked rapidly +though his head was quite motionless. A bullet had pierced his skull. + +After speaking to the senior French officer, who came out of the +house with a white handkerchief tied to his sword and announced that +they surrendered, Dolokhov dismounted and went up to Petya, who lay +motionless with outstretched arms. + +"Done for!" he said with a frown, and went to the gate to meet +Denisov who was riding toward him. + +"Killed?" cried Denisov, recognizing from a distance the +unmistakably lifeless attitude- very familiar to him- in which Petya's +body was lying. + +"Done for!" repeated Dolokhov as if the utterance of these words +afforded him pleasure, and he went quickly up to the prisoners, who +were surrounded by Cossacks who had hurried up. "We won't take +them!" he called out to Denisov. + +Denisov did not reply; he rode up to Petya, dismounted, and with +trembling hands turned toward himself the bloodstained, +mud-bespattered face which had already gone white. + +"I am used to something sweet. Raisins, fine ones... take them all!" +he recalled Petya's words. And the Cossacks looked round in surprise +at the sound, like the yelp of a dog, with which Denisov turned +away, walked to the wattle fence, and seized hold of it. + +Among the Russian prisoners rescued by Denisov and Dolokhov was +Pierre Bezukhov. + +CHAPTER XII + +During the whole of their march from Moscow no fresh orders had been +issued by the French authorities concerning the party of prisoners +among whom was Pierre. On the twenty-second of October that party +was no longer with the same troops and baggage trains with which it +had left Moscow. Half the wagons laden with hardtack that had traveled +the first stages with them had been captured by Cossacks, the other +half had gone on ahead. Not one of those dismounted cavalrymen who had +marched in front of the prisoners was left; they had all +disappeared. The artillery the prisoners had seen in front of them +during the first days was now replaced by Marshal Junot's enormous +baggage train, convoyed by Westphalians. Behind the prisoners came a +cavalry baggage train. + +From Vyazma onwards the French army, which had till then moved in +three columns, went on as a single group. The symptoms of disorder +that Pierre had noticed at their first halting place after leaving +Moscow had now reached the utmost limit. + +The road along which they moved was bordered on both sides by dead +horses; ragged men who had fallen behind from various regiments +continually changed about, now joining the moving column, now again +lagging behind it. + +Several times during the march false alarms had been given and the +soldiers of the escort had raised their muskets, fired, and run +headlong, crushing one another, but had afterwards reassembled and +abused each other for their causeless panic. + +These three groups traveling together- the cavalry stores, the +convoy of prisoners, and Junot's baggage train- still constituted a +separate and united whole, though each of the groups was rapidly +melting away. + +Of the artillery baggage train which had consisted of a hundred +and twenty wagons, not more than sixty now remained; the rest had been +captured or left behind. Some of Junot's wagons also had been captured +or abandoned. Three wagons had been raided and robbed by stragglers +from Davout's corps. From the talk of the Germans Pierre learned +that a larger guard had been allotted to that baggage train than to +the prisoners, and that one of their comrades, a German soldier, had +been shot by the marshal's own order because a silver spoon +belonging to the marshal had been found in his possession. + +The group of prisoners had melted away most of all. Of the three +hundred and thirty men who had set out from Moscow fewer than a +hundred now remained. The prisoners were more burdensome to the escort +than even the cavalry saddles or Junot's baggage. They understood that +the saddles and Junot's spoon might be of some use, but that cold +and hungry soldiers should have to stand and guard equally cold and +hungry Russians who froze and lagged behind on the road (in which case +the order was to shoot them) was not merely incomprehensible but +revolting. And the escort, as if afraid, in the grievous condition +they themselves were in, of giving way to the pity they felt for the +prisoners and so rendering their own plight still worse, treated +them with particular moroseness and severity. + +At Dorogobuzh while the soldiers of the convoy, after locking the +prisoners in a stable, had gone off to pillage their own stores, +several of the soldier prisoners tunneled under the wall and ran away, +but were recaptured by the French and shot. + +The arrangement adopted when they started, that the officer +prisoners should be kept separate from the rest, had long since been +abandoned. All who could walk went together, and after the third stage +Pierre had rejoined Karataev and the gray-blue bandy-legged dog that +had chosen Karataev for its master. + +On the third day after leaving Moscow Karataev again fell ill with +the fever he had suffered from in the hospital in Moscow, and as he +grew gradually weaker Pierre kept away from him. Pierre did not know +why, but since Karataev had begun to grow weaker it had cost him an +effort to go near him. When he did so and heard the subdued moaning +with which Karataev generally lay down at the halting places, and when +he smelled the odor emanating from him which was now stronger than +before, Pierre moved farther away and did not think about him. + +While imprisoned in the shed Pierre had learned not with his +intellect but with his whole being, by life itself, that man is +created for happiness, that happiness is within him, in the +satisfaction of simple human needs, and that all unhappiness arises +not from privation but from superfluity. And now during these last +three weeks of the march he had learned still another new, consolatory +truth- that nothing in this world is terrible. He had learned that +as there is no condition in which man can be happy and entirely +free, so there is no condition in which he need be unhappy and lack +freedom. He learned that suffering and freedom have their limits and +that those limits are very near together; that the person in a bed +of roses with one crumpled petal suffered as keenly as he now, +sleeping on the bare damp earth with one side growing chilled while +the other was warming; and that when he had put on tight dancing shoes +he had suffered just as he did now when he walked with bare feet +that were covered with sores- his footgear having long since fallen to +pieces. He discovered that when he had married his wife- of his own +free will as it had seemed to him- he had been no more free than now +when they locked him up at night in a stable. Of all that he himself +subsequently termed his sufferings, but which at the time he +scarcely felt, the worst was the state of his bare, raw, and +scab-covered feet. (The horseflesh was appetizing and nourishing, +the saltpeter flavor of the gunpowder they used instead of salt was +even pleasant; there was no great cold, it was always warm walking +in the daytime, and at night there were the campfires; the lice that +devoured him warmed his body.) The one thing that was at first hard to +bear was his feet. + +After the second day's march Pierre, having examined his feet by the +campfire, thought it would be impossible to walk on them; but when +everybody got up he went along, limping, and, when he had warmed up, +walked without feeling the pain, though at night his feet were more +terrible to look at than before. However, he did not look at them now, +but thought of other things. + +Only now did Pierre realize the full strength of life in man and the +saving power he has of transferring his attention from one thing to +another, which is like the safety valve of a boiler that allows +superfluous steam to blow off when the pressure exceeds a certain +limit. + +He did not see and did not hear how they shot the prisoners who +lagged behind, though more than a hundred perished in that way. He did +not think of Karataev who grew weaker every day and evidently would +soon have to share that fate. Still less did Pierre think about +himself. The harder his position became and the more terrible the +future, the more independent of that position in which he found +himself were the joyful and comforting thoughts, memories, and +imaginings that came to him. + +CHAPTER XIII + +At midday on the twenty-second of October Pierre was going uphill +along the muddy, slippery road, looking at his feet and at the +roughness of the way. Occasionally he glanced at the familiar crowd +around him and then again at his feet. The former and the latter +were alike familiar and his own. The blue-gray bandy legged dog ran +merrily along the side of the road, sometimes in proof of its +agility and self-satisfaction lifting one hind leg and hopping along +on three, and then again going on all four and rushing to bark at +the crows that sat on the carrion. The dog was merrier and sleeker +than it had been in Moscow. All around lay the flesh of different +animals- from men to horses- in various stages of decomposition; and +as the wolves were kept off by the passing men the dog could eat all +it wanted. + +It had been raining since morning and had seemed as if at any moment +it might cease and the sky clear, but after a short break it began +raining harder than before. The saturated road no longer absorbed +the water, which ran along the ruts in streams. + +Pierre walked along, looking from side to side, counting his steps +in threes, and reckoning them off on his fingers. Mentally +addressing the rain, he repeated: "Now then, now then, go on! Pelt +harder!" + +It seemed to him that he was thinking of nothing, but far down and +deep within him his soul was occupied with something important and +comforting. This something was a most subtle spiritual deduction +from a conversation with Karataev the day before. + +At their yesterday's halting place, feeling chilly by a dying +campfire, Pierre had got up and gone to the next one, which was +burning better. There Platon Karataev was sitting covered up- head and +all- with his greatcoat as if it were a vestment, telling the soldiers +in his effective and pleasant though now feeble voice a story Pierre +knew. It was already past midnight, the hour when Karataev was usually +free of his fever and particularly lively. When Pierre reached the +fire and heard Platon's voice enfeebled by illness, and saw his +pathetic face brightly lit up by the blaze, he felt a painful prick at +his heart. His feeling of pity for this man frightened him and he +wished to go away, but there was no other fire, and Pierre sat down, +trying not to look at Platon. + +"Well, how are you?" he asked. + +"How am I? If we grumble at sickness, God won't grant us death," +replied Platon, and at once resumed the story he had begun. + +"And so, brother," he continued, with a smile on his pale +emaciated face and a particularly happy light in his eyes, " you +see, brother..." + +Pierre had long been familiar with that story. Karataev had told +it to him alone some half-dozen times and always with a specially +joyful emotion. But well as he knew it, Pierre now listened to that +tale as to something new, and the quiet rapture Karataev evidently +felt as he told it communicated itself also to Pierre. The story was +of an old merchant who lived a good and God-fearing life with his +family, and who went once to the Nizhni fair with a companion- a +rich merchant. + +Having put up at an inn they both went to sleep, and next morning +his companion was found robbed and with his throat cut. A bloodstained +knife was found under the old merchant's pillow. He was tried, +knouted, and his nostrils having been torn off, "all in due form" as +Karataev put it, he was sent to hard labor in Siberia. + +"And so, brother" (it was at this point that Pierre came up), "ten +years or more passed by. The old man was living as a convict, +submitting as he should and doing no wrong. Only he prayed to God +for death. Well, one night the convicts were gathered just as we +are, with the old man among them. And they began telling what each was +suffering for, and how they had sinned against God. One told how he +had taken a life, another had taken two, a third had set a house on +fire, while another had simply been a vagrant and had done nothing. So +they asked the old man: 'What are you being punished for, Daddy?'- 'I, +my dear brothers,' said he, 'am being punished for my own and other +men's sins. But I have not killed anyone or taken anything that was +not mine, but have only helped my poorer brothers. I was a merchant, +my dear brothers, and had much property. 'And he went on to tell +them all about it in due order. 'I don't grieve for myself,' he +says, 'God, it seems, has chastened me. Only I am sorry for my old +wife and the children,' and the old man began to weep. Now it happened +that in the group was the very man who had killed the other +merchant. 'Where did it happen, Daddy?' he said. 'When, and in what +month?' He asked all about it and his heart began to ache. So he comes +up to the old man like this, and falls down at his feet! 'You are +perishing because of me, Daddy,' he says. 'It's quite true, lads, that +this man,' he says, 'is being tortured innocently and for nothing! I,' +he says, 'did that deed, and I put the knife under your head while you +were asleep. Forgive me, Daddy,' he says, 'for Christ's sake!'" + +Karataev paused, smiling joyously as he gazed into the fire, and +he drew the logs together. + +"And the old man said, 'God will forgive you, we are all sinners +in His sight. I suffer for my own sins,' and he wept bitter tears. +Well, and what do you think, dear friends?" Karataev continued, his +face brightening more and more with a rapturous smile as if what he +now had to tell contained the chief charm and the whole meaning of his +story: "What do you think, dear fellows? That murderer confessed to +the authorities. 'I have taken six lives,' he says (he was a great +sinner), 'but what I am most sorry for is this old man. Don't let +him suffer because of me.' So he confessed and it was all written down +and the papers sent off in due form. The place was a long way off, and +while they were judging, what with one thing and another, filling in +the papers all in due form- the authorities I mean- time passed. The +affair reached the Tsar. After a while the Tsar's decree came: to +set the merchant free and give him a compensation that had been +awarded. The paper arrived and they began to look for the old man. +'Where is the old man who has been suffering innocently and in vain? A +paper has come from the Tsar!' so they began looking for him," here +Karataev's lower jaw trembled, "but God had already forgiven him- he +was dead! That's how it was, dear fellows!" Karataev concluded and sat +for a long time silent, gazing before him with a smile. + +And Pierre's soul was dimly but joyfully filled not by the story +itself but by its mysterious significance: by the rapturous joy that +lit up Karataev's face as he told it, and the mystic significance of +that joy. + +CHAPTER XIV + +"A vos places!"~^ suddenly cried a voice. + +^~ "To your places." + +A pleasant feeling of excitement and an expectation of something +joyful and solemn was aroused among the soldiers of the convoy and the +prisoners. From all sides came shouts of command, and from the left +came smartly dressed cavalrymen on good horses, passing the +prisoners at a trot. The expression on all faces showed the tension +people feel at the approach of those in authority. The prisoners +thronged together and were pushed off the road. The convoy formed up. + +"The Emperor! The Emperor! The Marshal! The Duke!" and hardly had +the sleek cavalry passed, before a carriage drawn by six gray horses +rattled by. Pierre caught a glimpse of a man in a three-cornered hat +with a tranquil look on his handsome, plump, white face. It was one of +the marshals. His eye fell on Pierre's large and striking figure, +and in the expression with which he frowned and looked away Pierre +thought he detected sympathy and a desire to conceal that sympathy. + +The general in charge of the stores galloped after the carriage with +a red and frightened face, whipping up his skinny horse. Several +officers formed a group and some soldiers crowded round them. Their +faces all looked excited and worried. + +"What did he say? What did he say?" Pierre heard them ask. + +While the marshal was passing, the prisoners had huddled together in +a crowd, and Pierre saw Karataev whom he had not yet seen that +morning. He sat in his short overcoat leaning against a birch tree. On +his face, besides the look of joyful emotion it had worn yesterday +while telling the tale of the merchant who suffered innocently, +there was now an expression of quiet solemnity. + +Karataev looked at Pierre with his kindly round eyes now filled with +tears, evidently wishing him to come near that he might say +something to him. But Pierre was not sufficiently sure of himself. +He made as if he did not notice that look and moved hastily away. + +When the prisoners again went forward Pierre looked round. +Karataev was still sitting at the side of the road under the birch +tree and two Frenchmen were talking over his head. Pierre did not look +round again but went limping up the hill. + +From behind, where Karataev had been sitting, came the sound of a +shot. Pierre heard it plainly, but at that moment he remembered that +he had not yet finished reckoning up how many stages still remained to +Smolensk- a calculation he had begun before the marshal went by. And +he again started reckoning. Two French soldiers ran past Pierre, one +of whom carried a lowered and smoking gun. They both looked pale, +and in the expression on their faces- one of them glanced timidly at +Pierre- there was something resembling what he had seen on the face of +the young soldier at the execution. Pierre looked at the soldier and +remembered that, two days before, that man had burned his shirt +while drying it at the fire and how they had laughed at him. + +Behind him, where Karataev had been sitting, the dog began to +howl. "What a stupid beast! Why is it howling?" thought Pierre. + +His comrades, the prisoner soldiers walking beside him, avoided +looking back at the place where the shot had been fired and the dog +was howling, just as Pierre did, but there was a set look on all their +faces. + +CHAPTER XV + +The stores, the prisoners, and the marshal's baggage train stopped +at the village of Shamshevo. The men crowded together round the +campfires. Pierre went up to the fire, ate some roast horseflesh, +lay down with his back to the fire, and immediately fell asleep. He +again slept as he had done at Mozhaysk after the battle of Borodino. + +Again real events mingled with dreams and again someone, he or +another, gave expression to his thoughts, and even to the same +thoughts that had been expressed in his dream at Mozhaysk. + +"Life is everything. Life is God. Everything changes and moves and +that movement is God. And while there is life there is joy in +consciousness of the divine. To love life is to love God. Harder and +more blessed than all else is to love this life in one's sufferings, +in innocent sufferings." + +"Karataev!" came to Pierre's mind. + +And suddenly he saw vividly before him a long-forgotten, kindly +old man who had given him geography lessons in Switzerland. "Wait a +bit," said the old man, and showed Pierre a globe. This globe was +alive- a vibrating ball without fixed dimensions. Its whole surface +consisted of drops closely pressed together, and all these drops moved +and changed places, sometimes several of them merging into one, +sometimes one dividing into many. Each drop tried to spread out and +occupy as much space as possible, but others striving to do the same +compressed it, sometimes destroyed it, and sometimes merged with it. + +"That is life," said the old teacher. + +"How simple and clear it is," thought Pierre. "How is it I did not +know it before?" + +"God is in the midst, and each drop tries to expand so as to reflect +Him to the greatest extent. And it grows, merges, disappears from +the surface, sinks to the depths, and again emerges. There now, +Karataev has spread out and disappeared. Do you understand, my child?" +said the teacher. + +"Do you understand, damn you?" shouted a voice, and Pierre woke up. + +He lifted himself and sat up. A Frenchman who had just pushed a +Russian soldier away was squatting by the fire, engaged in roasting +a piece of meat stuck on a ramrod. His sleeves were rolled up and +his sinewy, hairy, red hands with their short fingers deftly turned +the ramrod. His brown morose face with frowning brows was clearly +visible by the glow of the charcoal. + +"It's all the same to him," he muttered, turning quickly to a +soldier who stood behind him. "Brigand! Get away!" + +And twisting the ramrod he looked gloomily at Pierre, who turned +away and gazed into the darkness. A prisoner, the Russian soldier +the Frenchman had pushed away, was sitting near the fire patting +something with his hand. Looking more closely Pierre recognized the +blue-gray dog, sitting beside the soldier, wagging its tail. + +"Ah, he's come?" said Pierre. "And Plat-" he began, but did not +finish. + +Suddenly and simultaneously a crowd of memories awoke in his +fancy- of the look Platon had given him as he sat under the tree, of +the shot heard from that spot, of the dog's howl, of the guilty +faces of the two Frenchmen as they ran past him, of the lowered and +smoking gun, and of Karataev's absence at this halt- and he was on the +point of realizing that Karataev had been killed, but just at that +instant, he knew not why, the recollection came to his mind of a +summer evening he had spent with a beautiful Polish lady on the +veranda of his house in Kiev. And without linking up the events of the +day or drawing a conclusion from them, Pierre closed his eyes, +seeing a vision of the country in summertime mingled with memories +of bathing and of the liquid, vibrating globe, and he sank into +water so that it closed over his head. + +Before sunrise he was awakened by shouts and loud and rapid +firing. French soldiers were running past him. + +"The Cossacks!" one of them shouted, and a moment later a crowd of +Russians surrounded Pierre. + +For a long time he could not understand what was happening to him. +All around he heard his comrades sobbing with joy. + +"Brothers! Dear fellows! Darlings!" old soldiers exclaimed, weeping, +as they embraced Cossacks and hussars. + +The hussars and Cossacks crowded round the prisoners; one offered +them clothes, another boots, and a third bread. Pierre sobbed as he +sat among them and could not utter a word. He hugged the first soldier +who approached him, and kissed him, weeping. + +Dolokhov stood at the gate of the ruined house, letting a crowd of +disarmed Frenchmen pass by. The French, excited by all that had +happened, were talking loudly among themselves, but as they passed +Dolokhov who gently switched his boots with his whip and watched +them with cold glassy eyes that boded no good, they became silent. +On the opposite side stood Dolokhov's Cossack, counting the +prisoners and marking off each hundred with a chalk line on the gate. + +"How many?" Dolokhov asked the Cossack. + +"The second hundred," replied the Cossack. + +"Filez, filez!"~^ Dolokhov kept saying, having adopted this +expression from the French, and when his eyes met those of the +prisoners they flashed with a cruel light. + +^~ "Get along, get along!" + +Denisov, bareheaded and with a gloomy face, walked behind some +Cossacks who were carrying the body of Petya Rostov to a hole that had +been dug in the garden. + +CHAPTER XVI + +After the twenty-eighth of October when the frosts began, the flight +of the French assumed a still more tragic character, with men +freezing, or roasting themselves to death at the campfires, while +carriages with people dressed in furs continued to drive past, +carrying away the property that had been stolen by the Emperor, kings, +and dukes; but the process of the flight and disintegration of the +French army went on essentially as before. + +From Moscow to Vyazma the French army of seventy-three thousand +men not reckoning the Guards (who did nothing during the whole war but +pillage) was reduced to thirty-six thousand, though not more than five +thousand had fallen in battle. From this beginning the succeeding +terms of the progression could be determined mathematically. The +French army melted away and perished at the same rate from Moscow to +Vyazma, from Vyazma to Smolensk, from Smolensk to the Berezina, and +from the Berezina to Vilna- independently of the greater or lesser +intensity of the cold, the pursuit, the barring of the way, or any +other particular conditions. Beyond Vyazma the French army instead +of moving in three columns huddled together into one mass, and so went +on to the end. Berthier wrote to his Emperor (we know how far +commanding officers allow themselves to diverge from the truth in +describing the condition of an army) and this is what he said: + +I deem it my duty to report to Your Majesty the condition of the +various corps I have had occasion to observe during different stages +of the last two or three days' march. They are almost disbanded. +Scarcely a quarter of the soldiers remain with the standards of +their regiments, the others go off by themselves in different +directions hoping to find food and escape discipline. In general +they regard Smolensk as the place where they hope to recover. During +the last few days many of the men have been seen to throw away their +cartridges and their arms. In such a state of affairs, whatever your +ultimate plans may be, the interest of Your Majesty's service +demands that the army should be rallied at Smolensk and should first +of all be freed from ineffectives, such as dismounted cavalry, +unnecessary baggage, and artillery material that is no longer in +proportion to the present forces. The soldiers, who are worn out +with hunger and fatigue, need these supplies as well as a few days' +rest. Many have died last days on the road or at the bivouacs. This +state of things is continually becoming worse and makes one fear +that unless a prompt remedy is applied the troops will no longer be +under control in case of an engagement. + +November 9: twenty miles from Smolensk. + +After staggering into Smolensk which seemed to them a promised land, +the French, searching for food, killed one another, sacked their own +stores, and when everything had been plundered fled farther. + +They all went without knowing whither or why they were going. +Still less did that genius, Napoleon, know it, for no one issued any +orders to him. But still he and those about him retained their old +habits: wrote commands, letters, reports, and orders of the day; +called one another sire, mon cousin, prince d'Eckmuhl, roi de +Naples, and so on. But these orders and reports were only on paper, +nothing in them was acted upon for they could not be carried out, +and though they entitled one another Majesties, Highnesses, or +Cousins, they all felt that they were miserable wretches who had +done much evil for which they had now to pay. And though they +pretended to be concerned about the army, each was thinking only of +himself and of how to get away quickly and save himself. + +CHAPTER XVII + +The movements of the Russian and French armies during the campaign +from Moscow back to the Niemen were like those in a game of Russian +blindman's bluff, in which two players are blindfolded and one of them +occasionally rings a little bell to inform the catcher of his +whereabouts. First he rings his bell fearlessly, but when he gets into +a tight place he runs away as quietly as he can, and often thinking to +escape runs straight into his opponent's arms. + +At first while they were still moving along the Kaluga road, +Napoleon's armies made their presence known, but later when they +reached the Smolensk road they ran holding the clapper of their bell +tight- and often thinking they were escaping ran right into the +Russians. + +Owing to the rapidity of the French flight and the Russian pursuit +and the consequent exhaustion of the horses, the chief means of +approximately ascertaining the enemy's position- by cavalry +scouting- was not available. Besides, as a result of the frequent +and rapid change of position by each army, even what information was +obtained could not be delivered in time. If news was received one +day that the enemy had been in a certain position the day before, by +the third day when something could have been done, that army was +already two days' march farther on and in quite another position. + +One army fled and the other pursued. Beyond Smolensk there were +several different roads available for the French, and one would have +thought that during their stay of four days they might have learned +where the enemy was, might have arranged some more advantageous plan +and undertaken something new. But after a four days' halt the mob, +with no maneuvers or plans, again began running along the beaten +track, neither to the right nor to the left but along the old- the +worst- road, through Krasnoe and Orsha. + +Expecting the enemy from behind and not in front, the French +separated in their flight and spread out over a distance of +twenty-four hours. In front of them all fled the Emperor, then the +kings, then the dukes. The Russian army, expecting Napoleon to take +the road to the right beyond the Dnieper- which was the only +reasonable thing for him to do- themselves turned to the right and +came out onto the highroad at Krasnoe. And here as in a game of +blindman's buff the French ran into our vanguard. Seeing their enemy +unexpectedly the French fell into confusion and stopped short from the +sudden fright, but then they resumed their flight, abandoning their +comrades who were farther behind. Then for three days separate +portions of the French army- first Murat's (the vice-king's), then +Davout's, and then Ney's- ran, as it were, the gauntlet of the Russian +army. They abandoned one another, abandoned all their heavy baggage, +their artillery, and half their men, and fled, getting past the +Russians by night by making semicircles to the right. + +Ney, who came last, had been busying himself blowing up the walls of +Smolensk which were in nobody's way, because despite the unfortunate +plight of the French or because of it, they wished to punish the floor +against which they had hurt themselves. Ney, who had had a corps of +ten thousand men, reached Napoleon at Orsha with only one thousand men +left, having abandoned all the rest and all his cannon, and having +crossed the Dnieper at night by stealth at a wooded spot. + +From Orsha they fled farther along the road to Vilna, still +playing at blindman's buff with the pursuing army. At the Berezina +they again became disorganized, many were drowned and many +surrendered, but those who got across the river fled farther. Their +supreme chief donned a fur coat and, having seated himself in a +sleigh, galloped on alone, abandoning his companions. The others who +could do so drove away too, leaving those who could not to surrender +or die. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +This campaign consisted in a flight of the French during which +they did all they could to destroy themselves. From the time they +turned onto the Kaluga road to the day their leader fled from the +army, none of the movements of the crowd had any sense. So one might +have thought that regarding this period of the campaign the +historians, who attributed the actions of the mass to the will of +one man, would have found it impossible to make the story of the +retreat fit their theory. But no! Mountains of books have been written +by the historians about this campaign, and everywhere are described +Napoleon's arrangements, the maneuvers, and his profound plans which +guided the army, as well as the military genius shown by his marshals. + +The retreat from Malo-Yaroslavets when he had a free road into a +well-supplied district and the parallel road was open to him along +which Kutuzov afterwards pursued him- this unnecessary retreat along a +devastated road- is explained to us as being due to profound +considerations. Similarly profound considerations are given for his +retreat from Smolensk to Orsha. Then his heroism at Krasnoe is +described, where he is reported to have been prepared to accept battle +and take personal command, and to have walked about with a birch stick +and said: + +"J'ai assez fait l'empereur; il est temps de faire le general,"~^ but +nevertheless immediately ran away again, abandoning to its fate the +scattered fragments of the army he left behind. + +^~ "I have acted the Emperor long enough; it is time to act the +general." + +Then we are told of the greatness of soul of the marshals, +especially of Ney- a greatness of soul consisting in this: that he +made his way by night around through the forest and across the Dnieper +and escaped to Orsha, abandoning standards, artillery, and nine tenths +of his men. + +And lastly, the final departure of the great Emperor from his heroic +army is presented to us by the historians as something great and +characteristic of genius. Even that final running away, described in +ordinary language as the lowest depth of baseness which every child is +taught to be ashamed of- even that act finds justification in the +historians' language. + +When it is impossible to stretch the very elastic threads of +historical ratiocination any farther, when actions are clearly +contrary to all that humanity calls right or even just, the historians +produce a saving conception of "greatness." "Greatness," it seems, +excludes the standards of right and wrong. For the "great" man nothing +is wrong, there is no atrocity for which a "great" man can be blamed. + +"C'est grand!"~^ say the historians, and there no longer exists +either good or evil but only "grand" and "not grand." Grand is good, +not grand is bad. Grand is the characteristic, in their conception, of +some special animals called "heroes." And Napoleon, escaping home in a +warm fur coat and leaving to perish those who were not merely his +comrades but were (in his opinion) men he had brought there, feels que +c'est grand,~^ and his soul is tranquil. + +^~ "It is great." + +^~ That it is great. + +"Du sublime (he saw something sublime in himself) au ridicule il n'y +a qu'un pas,"~^ said he. And the whole world for fifty years has been +repeating: "Sublime! Grand! Napoleon le Grand!" Du sublime au ridicule +il n'y a qu'un pas. + +^~ "From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step." + +And it occurs to no one that to admit a greatness not +commensurable with the standard of right and wrong is merely to +admit one's own nothingness and immeasurable meanness. + +For us with the standard of good and evil given us by Christ, no +human actions are incommensurable. And there is no greatness where +simplicity, goodness, and truth are absent. + +CHAPTER XIX + +What Russian, reading the account of the last part of the campaign +of 1812, has not experienced an uncomfortable feeling of regret, +dissatisfaction, and perplexity? Who has not asked himself how it is +that the French were not all captured or destroyed when our three +armies surrounded them in superior numbers, when the disordered +French, hungry and freezing, surrendered in crowds, and when (as the +historians relate) the aim of the Russians was to stop the French, +to cut them off, and capture them all? + +How was it that the Russian army, which when numerically weaker than +the French had given battle at Borodino, did not achieve its purpose +when it had surrounded the French on three sides and when its aim +was to capture them? Can the French be so enormously superior to us +that when we had surrounded them with superior forces we could not +beat them? How could that happen? + +History (or what is called by that name) replying to these questions +says that this occurred because Kutuzov and Tormasov and Chichagov, +and this man and that man, did not execute such and such maneuvers... + +But why did they not execute those maneuvers? And why if they were +guilty of not carrying out a prearranged plan were they not tried +and punished? But even if we admitted that Kutuzov, Chichagov, and +others were the cause of the Russian failures, it is still +incomprehensible why, the position of the Russian army being what it +was at Krasnoe and at the Berezina (in both cases we had superior +forces), the French army with its marshals, kings, and Emperor was not +captured, if that was what the Russians aimed at. + +The explanation of this strange fact given by Russian military +historians (to the effect that Kutuzov hindered an attack) is +unfounded, for we know that he could not restrain the troops from +attacking at Vyazma and Tarutino. + +Why was the Russian army- which with inferior forces had withstood +the enemy in full strength at Borodino- defeated at Krasnoe and the +Berezina by the disorganized crowds of the French when it was +numerically superior? + +If the aim of the Russians consisted in cutting off and capturing +Napoleon and his marshals- and that aim was not merely frustrated +but all attempts to attain it were most shamefully baffled- then +this last period of the campaign is quite rightly considered by the +French to be a series of victories, and quite wrongly considered +victorious by Russian historians. + +The Russian military historians in so far as they submit to claims +of logic must admit that conclusion, and in spite of their lyrical +rhapsodies about valor, devotion, and so forth, must reluctantly admit +that the French retreat from Moscow was a series of victories for +Napoleon and defeats for Kutuzov. + +But putting national vanity entirely aside one feels that such a +conclusion involves a contradiction, since the series of French +victories brought the French complete destruction, while the series of +Russian defeats led to the total destruction of their enemy and the +liberation of their country. + +The source of this contradiction lies in the fact that the +historians studying the events from the letters of the sovereigns +and the generals, from memoirs, reports, projects, and so forth, +have attributed to this last period of the war of 1812 an aim that +never existed, namely that of cutting off and capturing Napoleon +with his marshals and his army. + +There never was or could have been such an aim, for it would have +been senseless and its attainment quite impossible. + +It would have been senseless, first because Napoleon's +disorganized army was flying from Russia with all possible speed, that +is to say, was doing just what every Russian desired. So what was +the use of performing various operations on the French who were +running away as fast as they possibly could? + +Secondly, it would have been senseless to block the passage of men +whose whole energy was directed to flight. + +Thirdly, it would have been senseless to sacrifice one's own +troops in order to destroy the French army, which without external +interference was destroying itself at such a rate that, though its +path was not blocked, it could not carry across the frontier more than +it actually did in December, namely a hundredth part of the original +army. + +Fourthly, it would have been senseless to wish to take captive the +Emperor, kings, and dukes- whose capture would have been in the +highest degree embarrassing for the Russians, as the most adroit +diplomatists of the time (Joseph de Maistre and others) recognized. +Still more senseless would have been the wish to capture army corps of +the French, when our own army had melted away to half before +reaching Krasnoe and a whole division would have been needed to convoy +the corps of prisoners, and when our men were not always getting +full rations and the prisoners already taken were perishing of hunger. + +All the profound plans about cutting off and capturing Napoleon +and his army were like the plan of a market gardener who, when driving +out of his garden a cow that had trampled down the beds he had +planted, should run to the gate and hit the cow on the head. The +only thing to be said in excuse of that gardener would be that he +was very angry. But not even that could be said for those who drew +up this project, for it was not they who had suffered from the +trampled beds. + +But besides the fact that cutting off Napoleon with his army would +have been senseless, it was impossible. + +It was impossible first because- as experience shows that a +three-mile movement of columns on a battlefield never coincides with +the plans- the probability of Chichagov, Kutuzov, and Wittgenstein +effecting a junction on time at an appointed place was so remote as to +be tantamount to impossibility, as in fact thought Kutuzov, who when +he received the plan remarked that diversions planned over great +distances do not yield the desired results. + +Secondly it was impossible, because to paralyze the momentum with +which Napoleon's army was retiring, incomparably greater forces than +the Russians possessed would have been required. + +Thirdly it was impossible, because the military term "to cut off" +has no meaning. One can cut off a slice of bread, but not an army. +To cut off an army- to bar its road- is quite impossible, for there is +always plenty of room to avoid capture and there is the night when +nothing can be seen, as the military scientists might convince +themselves by the example of Krasnoe and of the Berezina. It is only +possible to capture prisoners if they agree to be captured, just as it +is only possible to catch a swallow if it settles on one's hand. Men +can only be taken prisoners if they surrender according to the rules +of strategy and tactics, as the Germans did. But the French troops +quite rightly did not consider that this suited them, since death by +hunger and cold awaited them in flight or captivity alike. + +Fourthly and chiefly it was impossible, because never since the +world began has a war been fought under such conditions as those +that obtained in 1812, and the Russian army in its pursuit of the +French strained its strength to the utmost and could not have done +more without destroying itself. + +During the movement of the Russian army from Tarutino to Krasnoe +it lost fifty thousand sick or stragglers, that is a number equal to +the population of a large provincial town. Half the men fell out of +the army without a battle. + +And it is of this period of the campaign- when the army lacked boots +and sheepskin coats, was short of provisions and without vodka, and +was camping out at night for months in the snow with fifteen degrees +of frost, when there were only seven or eight hours of daylight and +the rest was night in which the influence of discipline cannot be +maintained, when men were taken into that region of death where +discipline fails, not for a few hours only as in a battle, but for +months, where they were every moment fighting death from hunger and +cold, when half the army perished in a single month- it is of this +period of the campaign that the historians tell us how Miloradovich +should have made a flank march to such and such a place, Tormasov to +another place, and Chichagov should have crossed (more than +knee-deep in snow) to somewhere else, and how so-and-so "routed" and +"cut off" the French and so on and so on. + +The Russians, half of whom died, did all that could and should +have been done to attain an end worthy of the nation, and they are not +to blame because other Russians, sitting in warm rooms, proposed +that they should do what was impossible. + +All that strange contradiction now difficult to understand between +the facts and the historical accounts only arises because the +historians dealing with the matter have written the history of the +beautiful words and sentiments of various generals, and not the +history of the events. + +To them the words of Miloradovich seem very interesting, and so do +their surmises and the rewards this or that general received; but +the question of those fifty thousand men who were left in hospitals +and in graves does not even interest them, for it does not come within +the range of their investigation. + +Yet one need only discard the study of the reports and general plans +and consider the movement of those hundreds of thousands of men who +took a direct part in the events, and all the questions that seemed +insoluble easily and simply receive an immediate and certain solution. + +The aim of cutting off Napoleon and his army never existed except in +the imaginations of a dozen people. It could not exist because it +was senseless and unattainable. + +The people had a single aim: to free their land from invasion. +That aim was attained in the first place of itself, as the French +ran away, and so it was only necessary not to stop their flight. +Secondly it was attained by the guerrilla warfare which was destroying +the French, and thirdly by the fact that a large Russian army was +following the French, ready to use its strength in case their movement +stopped. + +The Russian army had to act like a whip to a running animal. And the +experienced driver knew it was better to hold the whip raised as a +menace than to strike the running animal on the head. + +BOOK FIFTEEN: 1812 - 13 + +CHAPTER I + +When seeing a dying animal a man feels a sense of horror: +substance similar to his own is perishing before his eyes. But when it +is a beloved and intimate human being that is dying, besides this +horror at the extinction of life there is a severance, a spiritual +wound, which like a physical wound is sometimes fatal and sometimes +heals, but always aches and shrinks at any external irritating touch. + +After Prince Andrew's death Natasha and Princess Mary alike felt +this. Drooping in spirit and closing their eyes before the menacing +cloud of death that overhung them, they dared not look life in the +face. They carefully guarded their open wounds from any rough and +painful contact. Everything: a carriage passing rapidly in the street, +a summons to dinner, the maid's inquiry what dress to prepare, or +worse still any word of insincere or feeble sympathy, seemed an +insult, painfully irritated the wound, interrupting that necessary +quiet in which they both tried to listen to the stern and dreadful +choir that still resounded in their imagination, and hindered their +gazing into those mysterious limitless vistas that for an instant +had opened out before them. + +Only when alone together were they free from such outrage and +pain. They spoke little even to one another, and when they did it +was of very unimportant matters. + +Both avoided any allusion to the future. To admit the possibility of +a future seemed to them to insult his memory. Still more carefully did +they avoid anything relating to him who was dead. It seemed to them +that what they had lived through and experienced could not be +expressed in words, and that any reference to the details of his +life infringed the majesty and sacredness of the mystery that had been +accomplished before their eyes. + +Continued abstention from speech, and constant avoidance of +everything that might lead up to the subject- this halting on all +sides at the boundary of what they might not mention- brought before +their minds with still greater purity and clearness what they were +both feeling. + +But pure and complete sorrow is as impossible as pure and complete +joy. Princess Mary, in her position as absolute and independent +arbiter of her own fate and guardian and instructor of her nephew, was +the first to be called back to life from that realm of sorrow in which +she had dwelt for the first fortnight. She received letters from her +relations to which she had to reply; the room in which little Nicholas +had been put was damp and he began to cough; Alpatych came to +Yaroslavl with reports on the state of their affairs and with advice +and suggestions that they should return to Moscow to the house on +the Vozdvizhenka Street, which had remained uninjured and needed +only slight repairs. Life did not stand still and it was necessary +to live. Hard as it was for Princess Mary to emerge from the realm +of secluded contemplation in which she had lived till then, and +sorry and almost ashamed as she felt to leave Natasha alone, yet the +cares of life demanded her attention and she involuntarily yielded +to them. She went through the accounts with Alpatych, conferred with +Dessalles about her nephew, and gave orders and made preparations +for the journey to Moscow. + +Natasha remained alone and, from the time Princess Mary began making +preparations for departure, held aloof from her too. + +Princess Mary asked the countess to let Natasha go with her to +Moscow, and both parents gladly accepted this offer, for they saw +their daughter losing strength every day and thought that a change +of scene and the advice of Moscow doctors would be good for her. + +"I am not going anywhere," Natasha replied when this was proposed to +her. "Do please just leave me alone!" And she ran out of the room, +with difficulty refraining from tears of vexation and irritation +rather than of sorrow. + +After she felt herself deserted by Princes Mary and alone in her +grief, Natasha spent most of the time in her room by herself, +sitting huddled up feet and all in the corner of the sofa, tearing and +twisting something with her slender nervous fingers and gazing +intently and fixedly at whatever her eyes chanced to fall on. This +solitude exhausted and tormented her but she was in absolute need of +it. As soon as anyone entered she got up quickly, changed her position +and expression, and picked up a book or some sewing, evidently waiting +impatiently for the intruder to go. + +She felt all the time as if she might at any moment penetrate that +on which- with a terrible questioning too great for her strength- +her spiritual gaze was fixed. + +One day toward the end of December Natasha, pale and thin, dressed +in a black woolen gown, her plaited hair negligently twisted into a +knot, was crouched feet and all in the corner of her sofa, nervously +crumpling and smoothing out the end of her sash while she looked at +a corner of the door. + +She was gazing in the direction in which he had gone- to the other +side of life. And that other side of life, of which she had never +before thought and which had formerly seemed to her so far away and +improbable, was now nearer and more akin and more comprehensible +than this side of life, where everything was either emptiness and +desolation or suffering and indignity. + +She was gazing where she knew him to be; but she could not imagine +him otherwise than as he had been here. She now saw him again as he +had been at Mytishchi, at Troitsa, and at Yaroslavl. + +She saw his face, heard his voice, repeated his words and her own, +and sometimes devised other words they might have spoken. + +There he is lying back in an armchair in his velvet cloak, leaning +his head on his thin pale hand. His chest is dreadfully hollow and his +shoulders raised. His lips are firmly closed, his eyes glitter, and +a wrinkle comes and goes on his pale forehead. One of his legs +twitches just perceptibly, but rapidly. Natasha knows that he is +struggling with terrible pain. "What is that pain like? Why does he +have that pain? What does he feel? How does it hurt him?" thought +Natasha. He noticed her watching him, raised his eyes, and began to +speak seriously: + +"One thing would be terrible," said he: "to bind oneself forever +to a suffering man. It would be continual torture." And he looked +searchingly at her. Natasha as usual answered before she had time to +think what she would say. She said: "This can't go on- it won't. You +will get well- quite well." + +She now saw him from the commencement of that scene and relived what +she had then felt. She recalled his long sad and severe look at +those words and understood the meaning of the rebuke and despair in +that protracted gaze. + +"I agreed," Natasha now said to herself, "that it would be +dreadful if he always continued to suffer. I said it then only because +it would have been dreadful for him, but he understood it differently. +He thought it would be dreadful for me. He then still wished to live +and feared death. And I said it so awkwardly and stupidly! I did not +say what I meant. I thought quite differently. Had I said what I +thought, I should have said: even if he had to go on dying, to die +continually before my eyes, I should have been happy compared with +what I am now. Now there is nothing... nobody. Did he know that? No, +he did not and never will know it. And now it will never, never be +possible to put it right." And now he again seemed to be saying the +same words to her, only in her imagination Natasha this time gave +him a different answer. She stopped him and said: "Terrible for you, +but not for me! You know that for me there is nothing in life but you, +and to suffer with you is the greatest happiness for me," and he +took her hand and pressed it as he had pressed it that terrible +evening four days before his death. And in her imagination she said +other tender and loving words which she might have said then but +only spoke now: "I love thee!... thee! I love, love..." she said, +convulsively pressing her hands and setting her teeth with a desperate +effort... + +She was overcome by sweet sorrow and tears were already rising in +her eyes; then she suddenly asked herself to whom she was saying this. +Again everything was shrouded in hard, dry perplexity, and again +with a strained frown she peered toward the world where he was. And +now, now it seemed to her she was penetrating the mystery.... But at +the instant when it seemed that the incomprehensible was revealing +itself to her a loud rattle of the door handle struck painfully on her +ears. Dunyasha, her maid, entered the room quickly and abruptly with a +frightened look on her face and showing no concern for her mistress. + +"Come to your Papa at once, please!" said she with a strange, +excited look. "A misfortune... about Peter Ilynich... a letter," she +finished with a sob. + +CHAPTER II + +Besides a feeling of aloofness from everybody Natasha was feeling +a special estrangement from the members of her own family. All of +them- her father, mother, and Sonya- were so near to her, so familiar, +so commonplace, that all their words and feelings seemed an insult +to the world in which she had been living of late, and she felt not +merely indifferent to them but regarded them with hostility. She heard +Dunyasha's words about Peter Ilynich and a misfortune, but did not +grasp them. + +"What misfortune? What misfortune can happen to them? They just live +their own old, quiet, and commonplace life," thought Natasha. + +As she entered the ballroom her father was hurriedly coming out of +her mother's room. His face was puckered up and wet with tears. He had +evidently run out of that room to give vent to the sobs that were +choking him. When he saw Natasha he waved his arms despairingly and +burst into convulsively painful sobs that distorted his soft round +face. + +"Pe... Petya... Go, go, she... is calling..." and weeping like a +child and quickly shuffling on his feeble legs to a chair, he almost +fell into it, covering his face with his hands. + +Suddenly an electric shock seemed to run through Natasha's whole +being. Terrible anguish struck her heart, she felt a dreadful ache +as if something was being torn inside her and she were dying. But +the pain was immediately followed by a feeling of release from the +oppressive constraint that had prevented her taking part in life. +The sight of her father, the terribly wild cries of her mother that +she heard through the door, made her immediately forget herself and +her own grief. + +She ran to her father, but he feebly waved his arm, pointing to +her mother's door. Princess Mary, pale and with quivering chin, came +out from that room and taking Natasha by the arm said something to +her. Natasha neither saw nor heard her. She went in with rapid +steps, pausing at the door for an instant as if struggling with +herself, and then ran to her mother. + +The countess was lying in an armchair in a strange and awkward +position, stretching out and beating her head against the wall. +Sonya and the maids were holding her arms. + +"Natasha! Natasha!..." cried the countess. "It's not true... it's +not true... He's lying... Natasha!" she shrieked, pushing those around +her away. "Go away, all of you; it's not true! Killed!... ha, ha, +ha!... It's not true!" + +Natasha put one knee on the armchair, stooped over her mother, +embraced her, and with unexpected strength raised her, turned her face +toward herself, and clung to her. + +"Mummy!... darling!... I am here, my dearest Mummy," she kept on +whispering, not pausing an instant. + +She did not let go of her mother but struggled tenderly with her, +demanded a pillow and hot water, and unfastened and tore open her +mother's dress. + +"My dearest darling... Mummy, my precious!..." she whispered +incessantly, kissing her head, her hands, her face, and feeling her +own irrepressible and streaming tears tickling her nose and cheeks. + +The countess pressed her daughter's hand, closed her eyes, and +became quiet for a moment. Suddenly she sat up with unaccustomed +swiftness, glanced vacantly around her, and seeing Natasha began to +press her daughter's head with all her strength. Then she turned +toward her daughter's face which was wincing with pain and gazed +long at it. + +"Natasha, you love me?" she said in a soft trustful whisper. +"Natasha, you would not deceive me? You'll tell me the whole truth?" + +Natasha looked at her with eyes full of tears and in her look +there was nothing but love and an entreaty for forgiveness. + +"My darling Mummy!" she repeated, straining all the power of her +love to find some way of taking on herself the excess of grief that +crushed her mother. + +And again in a futile struggle with reality her mother, refusing +to believe that she could live when her beloved boy was killed in +the bloom of life, escaped from reality into a world of delirium. + +Natasha did not remember how that day passed nor that night, nor the +next day and night. She did not sleep and did not leave her mother. +Her persevering and patient love seemed completely to surround the +countess every moment, not explaining or consoling, but recalling +her to life. + +During the third night the countess kept very quiet for a few +minutes, and Natasha rested her head on the arm of her chair and +closed her eyes, but opened them again on hearing the bedstead +creak. The countess was sitting up in bed and speaking softly. + +"How glad I am you have come. You are tired. Won't you have some +tea?" Natasha went up to her. "You have improved in looks and grown +more manly," continued the countess, taking her daughter's hand. + +"Mamma! What are you saying..." + +"Natasha, he is no more, no more!" + +And embracing her daughter, the countess began to weep for the first +time. + +CHAPTER III + +Princess Mary postponed her departure. Sonya and the count tried +to replace Natasha but could not. They saw that she alone was able +to restrain her mother from unreasoning despair. For three weeks +Natasha remained constantly at her mother's side, sleeping on a lounge +chair in her room, making her eat and drink, and talking to her +incessantly because the mere sound of her tender, caressing tones +soothed her mother. + +The mother's wounded spirit could not could not heal. Petya's +death had torn from her half her life. When the news of Petya's +death had come she had been a fresh and vigorous woman of fifty, but a +month later she left her room a listless old woman taking no +interest in life. But the same blow that almost killed the countess, +this second blow, restored Natasha to life. + +A spiritual wound produced by a rending of the spiritual body is +like a physical wound and, strange as it may seem, just as a deep +wound may heal and its edges join, physical and spiritual wounds alike +can yet heal completely only as the result of a vital force from +within. + +Natasha's wound healed in that way. She thought her life was +ended, but her love for her mother unexpectedly showed her that the +essence of life- love- was still active within her. Love awoke and +so did life. + +Prince Andrew's last days had bound Princess Mary and Natasha +together; this new sorrow brought them still closer to one another. +Princess Mary put off her departure, and for three weeks looked +after Natasha as if she had been a sick child. The last weeks passed +in her mother's bedroom had strained Natasha's physical strength. + +One afternoon noticing Natasha shivering with fever, Princess Mary +took her to her own room and made her lie down on the bed. Natasha lay +down, but when Princess Mary had drawn the blinds and was going away +she called her back. + +"I don't want to sleep, Mary, sit by me a little." + +"You are tired- try to sleep." + +"No, no. Why did you bring me away? She will be asking for me." + +"She is much better. She spoke so well today," said Princess Mary. + +Natasha lay on the bed and in the semidarkness of the room scanned +Princess Mary's face. + +"Is she like him?" thought Natasha. "Yes, like and yet not like. But +she is quite original, strange, new, and unknown. And she loves me. +What is in her heart? All that is good. But how? What is her mind +like? What does she think about me? Yes, she is splendid!" + +"Mary," she said timidly, drawing Princess Mary's hand to herself, +"Mary, you mustn't think me wicked. No? Mary darling, how I love +you! Let us be quite, quite friends." + +And Natasha, embracing her, began kissing her face and hands, making +Princess Mary feel shy but happy by this demonstration of her +feelings. + +From that day a tender and passionate friendship such as exists only +between women was established between Princess Mary and Natasha. +They were continually kissing and saying tender things to one +another and spent most of their time together. When one went out the +other became restless and hastened to rejoin her. Together they felt +more in harmony with one another than either of them felt with herself +when alone. A feeling stronger than friendship sprang up between them; +an exclusive feeling of life being possible only in each other's +presence. + +Sometimes they were silent for hours; sometimes after they were +already in bed they would begin talking and go on till morning. They +spoke most of what was long past. Princess Mary spoke of her +childhood, of her mother, her father, and her daydreams; and +Natasha, who with a passive lack of understanding had formerly +turned away from that life of devotion, submission, and the poetry +of Christian self-sacrifice, now feeling herself bound to Princess +Mary by affection, learned to love her past too and to understand a +side of life previously incomprehensible to her. She did not think +of applying submission and self-abnegation to her own life, for she +was accustomed to seek other joys, but she understood and loved in +another those previously incomprehensible virtues. For Princess +Mary, listening to Natasha's tales of childhood and early youth, there +also opened out a new and hitherto uncomprehended side of life: belief +in life and its enjoyment. + +Just as before, they never mentioned him so as not to lower (as they +thought) their exalted feelings by words; but this silence about him +had the effect of making them gradually begin to forget him without +being conscious of it. + +Natasha had grown thin and pale and physically so weak that they all +talked about her health, and this pleased her. But sometimes she was +suddenly overcome by fear not only of death but of sickness, weakness, +and loss of good looks, and involuntarily she examined her bare arm +carefully, surprised at its thinness, and in the morning noticed her +drawn and, as it seemed to her, piteous face in her glass. It seemed +to her that things must be so, and yet it was dreadfully sad. + +One day she went quickly upstairs and found herself out of breath. +Unconsciously she immediately invented a reason for going down, and +then, testing her strength, ran upstairs again, observing the result. + +Another time when she called Dunyasha her voice trembled, so she +called again- though she could hear Dunyasha coming- called her in the +deep chest tones in which she had been wont to sing, sing, and +listened attentively to herself. + +She did not know and would not have believed it, but beneath the +layer of slime that covered her soul and seemed to her impenetrable, +delicate young shoots of grass were already sprouting, which taking +root would so cover with their living verdure the grief that weighed +her down that it would soon no longer be seen or noticed. The wound +had begun to heal from within. + +At the end of January Princess Mary left for Moscow, and the count +insisted on Natasha's going with her to consult the doctors. + +CHAPTER IV + +After the encounter at Vyazma, where Kutuzov had been unable to hold +back his troops in their anxiety to overwhelm and cut off the enemy +and so on, the farther movement of the fleeing French, and of the +Russians who pursued them, continued as far as Krasnoe without a +battle. The flight was so rapid that the Russian army pursuing the +French could not keep up with them; cavalry and artillery horses broke +down, and the information received of the movements of the French +was never reliable. + +The men in the Russian army were so worn out by this continuous +marching at the rate of twenty-seven miles a day that they could not +go any faster. + +To realize the degree of exhaustion of the Russian army it is only +necessary to grasp clearly the meaning of the fact that, while not +losing more than five thousand killed and wounded after Tarutino and +less than a hundred prisoners, the Russian army which left that +place a hundred thousand strong reached Krasnoe with only fifty +thousand. + +The rapidity of the Russian pursuit was just as destructive to our +army as the flight of the French was to theirs. The only difference +was that the Russian army moved voluntarily, with no such threat of +destruction as hung over the French, and that the sick Frenchmen +were left behind in enemy hands while the sick Russians left behind +were among their own people. The chief cause of the wastage of +Napoleon's army was the rapidity of its movement, and a convincing +proof of this is the corresponding decrease of the Russian army. + +Kutuzov as far as was in his power, instead of trying to check the +movement of the French as was desired in Petersburg and by the Russian +army generals, directed his whole activity here, as he had done at +Tarutino and Vyazma, to hastening it on while easing the movement of +our army. + +But besides this, since the exhaustion and enormous diminution of +the army caused by the rapidity of the advance had become evident, +another reason for slackening the pace and delaying presented itself +to Kutuzov. The aim of the Russian army was to pursue the French. +The road the French would take was unknown, and so the closer our +troops trod on their heels the greater distance they had to cover. +Only by following at some distance could one cut across the zigzag +path of the French. All the artful maneuvers suggested by our generals +meant fresh movements of the army and a lengthening of its marches, +whereas the only reasonable aim was to shorten those marches. To +that end Kutuzov's activity was directed during the whole campaign +from Moscow to Vilna- not casually or intermittently but so +consistently that he never once deviated from it. + +Kutuzov felt and knew- not by reasoning or science but with the +whole of his Russian being- what every Russian soldier felt: that +the French were beaten, that the enemy was flying and must be driven +out; but at the same time he like the soldiers realized all the +hardship of this march, the rapidity of which was unparalleled for +such a time of the year. + +But to the generals, especially the foreign ones in the Russian +army, who wished to distinguish themselves, to astonish somebody, +and for some reason to capture a king or a duke- it seemed that now- +when any battle must be horrible and senseless- was the very time to +fight and conquer somebody. Kutuzov merely shrugged his shoulders when +one after another they presented projects of maneuvers to be made with +those soldiers- ill-shod, insufficiently clad, and half starved- who +within a month and without fighting a battle had dwindled to half +their number, and who at the best if the flight continued would have +to go a greater distance than they had already traversed, before +they reached the frontier. + +This longing to distinguish themselves, to maneuver, to overthrow, +and to cut off showed itself particularly whenever the Russians +stumbled on the French army. + +So it was at Krasnoe, where they expected to find one of the three +French columns and stumbled instead on Napoleon himself with sixteen +thousand men. Despite all Kutuzov's efforts to avoid that ruinous +encounter and to preserve his troops, the massacre of the broken mob +of French soldiers by worn-out Russians continued at Krasnoe for three +days. + +Toll wrote a disposition: "The first column will march to so and +so," etc. And as usual nothing happened in accord with the +disposition. Prince Eugene of Wurttemberg fired from a hill over the +French crowds that were running past, and demanded reinforcements +which did not arrive. The French, avoiding the Russians, dispersed and +hid themselves in the forest by night, making their way round as +best they could, and continued their flight. + +Miloradovich, who said he did not want to know anything about the +commissariat affairs of his detachment, and could never be found +when he was wanted- that chevalier sans peur et sans reproche~^ as he +styled himself- who was fond of parleys with the French, sent envoys +demanding their surrender, wasted time, and did not do what he was +ordered to do. + +^~ Knight without fear and without reproach. + +"I give you that column, lads," he said, riding up to the troops and +pointing out the French to the cavalry. + +And the cavalry, with spurs and sabers urging on horses that could +scarcely move, trotted with much effort to the column presented to +them- that is to say, to a crowd of Frenchmen stark with cold, +frost-bitten, and starving- and the column that had been presented +to them threw down its arms and surrendered as it had long been +anxious to do. + +At Krasnoe they took twenty-six thousand prisoners, several +hundred cannon, and a stick called a "marshal's staff," and disputed +as to who had distinguished himself and were pleased with their +achievement- though they much regretted not having taken Napoleon, +or at least a marshal or a hero of some sort, and reproached one +another and especially Kutuzov for having failed to do so. + +These men, carried away by their passions, were but blind tools of +the most melancholy law of necessity, but considered themselves heroes +and imagined that they were accomplishing a most noble and honorable +deed. They blamed Kutuzov and said that from the very beginning of the +campaign he had prevented their vanquishing Napoleon, that he +thought nothing but satisfying his passions and would not advance from +the Linen Factories because he was comfortable there, that at +Krasnoe he checked the advance because on learning that Napoleon was +there he had quite lost his head, and that it was probable that he had +an understanding with Napoleon and had been bribed by him, and so +on, and so on. + +Not only did his contempories, carried away by their passions, +talk in this way, but posterity and history have acclaimed Napoleon as +grand, while Kutuzov is described by foreigners as a crafty, +dissolute, weak old courtier, and by Russians as something indefinite- +a sort of puppet useful only because he had a Russian name. + +CHAPTER V + +In 1812 and 1813 Kutuzov was openly accused of blundering. The +Emperor was dissatisfied with him. And in a history recently written +by order of the Highest Authorities it is said that Kutuzov was a +cunning court liar, frightened of the name of Napoleon, and that by +his blunders at Krasnoe and the Berezina he deprived the Russian +army of the glory of complete victory over the French.~^ + +^~ History of the year 1812. The character of Kutuzov and +reflections on the unsatisfactory results of the battles at Krasnoe, +by Bogdanovich. + +Such is the fate not of great men (grands hommes) whom the Russian +mind does not acknowledge, but of those rare and always solitary +individuals who, discerning the will of Providence, submit their +personal will to it. The hatred and contempt of the crowd punish +such men for discerning the higher laws. + +For Russian historians, strange and terrible to say, Napoleon- +that most insignificant tool of history who never anywhere, even in +exile, showed human dignity- Napoleon is the object of adulation and +enthusiasm; he is grand. But Kutuzov- the man who from the beginning +to the end of his activity in 1812, never once swerving by word or +deed from Borodino to Vilna, presented an example exceptional in +history of self-sacrifice and a present conciousness of the future +importance of what was happening- Kutuzov seems to them something +indefinite and pitiful, and when speaking of him and of the year +1812 they always seem a little ashamed. + +And yet it is difficult to imagine an historical character whose +activity was so unswervingly directed to a single aim; and it would be +difficult to imagine any aim more worthy or more consonant with the +will of the whole people. Still more difficult would it be to find +an instance in history of the aim of an historical personage being +so completely accomplished as that to which all Kutuzov's efforts were +directed in 1812. + +Kutuzov never talked of "forty centuries looking down from the +Pyramids," of the sacrifices he offered for the fatherland, or of what +he intended to accomplish or had accomplished; in general he said +nothing about himself, adopted no prose, always appeared to be the +simplest and most ordinary of men, and said the simplest and most +ordinary things. He wrote letters to his daughters and to Madame de +Stael, read novels, liked the society of pretty women, jested with +generals, officers, and soldiers, and never contradicted those who +tried to prove anything to him. When Count Rostopchin at the Yauza +bridge galloped up to Kutuzov with personal reproaches for having +caused the destruction of Moscow, and said: "How was it you promised +not to abandon Moscow without a battle?" Kutuzov replied: "And I shall +not abandon Moscow without a battle," though Moscow was then already +abandoned. When Arakcheev, coming to him from the Emperor, said that +Ermolov ought to be appointed chief of the artillery, Kutuzov replied: +"Yes, I was just saying so myself," though a moment before he had said +quite the contrary. What did it matter to him- who then alone amid a +senseless crowd understood the whole tremendous significance of what +was happening- what did it matter to him whether Rostopchin attributed +the calamities of Moscow to him or to himself? Still less could it +matter to him who was appointed chief of the artillery. + +Not merely in these cases but continually did that old man- who by +experience of life had reached the conviction that thoughts and the +words serving as their expression are not what move people- use +quite meaningless words that happened to enter his head. + +But that man, so heedless of his words, did not once during the +whole time of his activity utter one word inconsistent with the single +aim toward which he moved throughout the whole war. Obviously in spite +of himself, in very diverse circumstances, he repeatedly expressed his +real thoughts with the bitter conviction that he would not be +understood. Beginning with the battle of Borodino, from which time his +disagreement with those about him began, he alone said that the battle +of Borodino was a victory, and repeated this both verbally and in +his dispatches and reports up to the time of his death. He alone +said that the loss of Moscow is not the loss of Russia. In reply to +Lauriston's proposal of peace, he said: There can be no peace, for +such is the people's will. He alone during the retreat of the French +said that all our maneuvers are useless, everything is being +accomplished of itself better than we could desire; that the enemy +must be offered "a golden bridge"; that neither the Tarutino, the +Vyazma, nor the Krasnoe battles were necessary; that we must keep some +force to reach the frontier with, and that he would not sacrifice a +single Russian for ten Frenchmen. + +And this courtier, as he is described to us, who lies to Arakcheev +to please the Emperor, he alone- incurring thereby the Emperor's +displeasure- said in Vilna that to carry the war beyond the frontier +is useless and harmful. + +Nor do words alone prove that only he understood the meaning of +the events. His actions- without the smallest deviation- were all +directed to one and the same threefold end: (1) to brace all his +strength for conflict with the French, (2) to defeat them, and (3) +to drive them out of Russia, minimizing as far as possible the +sufferings of our people and of our army. + +This procrastinator Kutuzov, whose motto was "Patience and Time," +this enemy of decisive action, gave battle at Borodino, investing +the preparations for it with unparalleled solemnity. This Kutuzov +who before the battle of Austerlitz began said that it would be +lost, he alone, in contradiction to everyone else, declared till his +death that Borodino was a victory, despite the assurance of generals +that the battle was lost and despite the fact that for an army to have +to retire after winning a battle was unprecedented. He alone during +the whole retreat insisted that battles, which were useless then, +should not be fought, and that a new war should not be begun nor the +frontiers of Russia crossed. + +It is easy now to understand the significance of these events- if +only we abstain from attributing to the activity of the mass aims that +existed only in the heads of a dozen individuals- for the events and +results now lie before us. + +But how did that old man, alone, in opposition to the general +opinion, so truly discern the importance of the people's view of the +events that in all his activity he was never once untrue to it? + +The source of that extraordinary power of penetrating the meaning of +the events then occuring lay in the national feeling which he +possessed in full purity and strength. + +Only the recognition of the fact that he possessed this feeling +caused the people in so strange a manner, contrary to the Tsar's wish, +to select him- an old man in disfavor- to be their representative in +the national war. And only that feeling placed him on that highest +human pedestal from which he, the commander in chief, devoted all +his powers not to slaying and destroying men but to saving and showing +pity on them. + +That simple, modest, and therefore truly great, figure could not +be cast in the false mold of a European hero- the supposed ruler of +men- that history has invented. + +To a lackey no man can be great, for a lackey has his own conception +of greatness. + +CHAPTER VI + +The fifth of November was the first day of what is called the battle +of Krasnoe. Toward evening- after much disputing and many mistakes +made by generals who did not go to their proper places, and after +adjutants had been sent about with counterorders- when it had become +plain that the enemy was everywhere in flight and that there could and +would be no battle, Kutuzov left Krasnoe and went to Dobroe whither +his headquarters had that day been transferred. + +The day was clear and frosty. Kutuzov rode to Dobroe on his plump +little white horse, followed by an enormous suite of discontented +generals who whispered among themselves behind his back. All along the +road groups of French prisoners captured that day (there were seven +thousand of them) were crowding to warm themselves at campfires. +Near Dobroe an immense crowd of tattered prisoners, buzzing with +talk and wrapped and bandaged in anything they had been able to get +hold of, were standing in the road beside a long row of unharnessed +French guns. At the approach of the commander in chief the buzz of +talk ceased and all eyes were fixed on Kutuzov who, wearing a white +cap with a red band and a padded overcoat that bulged on his round +shoulders, moved slowly along the road on his white horse. One of +the generals was reporting to him where the guns and prisoners had +been captured. + +Kutuzov seemed preoccupied and did not listen to what the general +was saying. He screwed up his eyes with a dissatisfied look as he +gazed attentively and fixedly at these prisoners, who presented a +specially wretched appearance. Most of them were disfigured by +frost-bitten noses and cheeks, and nearly all had red, swollen and +festering eyes. + +One group of the French stood close to the road, and two of them, +one of whom had his face covered with sores, were tearing a piece of +raw flesh with their hands. There was something horrible and bestial +in the fleeting glance they threw at the riders and in the +malevolent expression with which, after a glance at Kutuzov, the +soldier with the sores immediately turned away and went on with what +he was doing. + +Kutuzov looked long and intently at these two soldiers. He +puckered his face, screwed up his eyes, and pensively swayed his head. +At another spot he noticed a Russian soldier laughingly patting a +Frenchman on the shoulder, saying something to him in a friendly +manner, and Kutuzov with the same expression on his face again +swayed his head. + +"What were you saying?" he asked the general, who continuing his +report directed the commander in chief's attention to some standards +captured from the French and standing in front of the Preobrazhensk +regiment. + +"Ah, the standards!" said Kutuzov, evidently detaching himself +with difficulty from the thoughts that preoccupied him. + +He looked about him absently. Thousands of eyes were looking at +him from all sides awaiting a word from him. + +He stopped in front of the Preobrazhensk regiment, sighed deeply, +and closed his eyes. One of his suite beckoned to the soldiers +carrying the standards to advance and surround the commander in +chief with them. Kutuzov was silent for a few seconds and then, +submitting with evident reluctance to the duty imposed by his +position, raised his head and began to speak. A throng of officers +surrounded him. He looked attentively around at the circle of +officers, recognizing several of them. + +"I thank you all!" he said, addressing the soldiers and then again +the officers. In the stillness around him his slowly uttered words +were distinctly heard. "I thank you all for your hard and faithful +service. The victory is complete and Russia will not forget you! Honor +to you forever." + +He paused and looked around. + +"Lower its head, lower it!" he said to a soldier who had +accidentally lowered the French eagle he was holding before the +Preobrazhensk standards. "Lower, lower, that's it. Hurrah lads!" he +added, addressing the men with a rapid movement of his chin. + +"Hur-r-rah!" roared thousands of voices. + +While the soldiers were shouting Kutuzov leaned forward in his +saddle and bowed his head, and his eye lit up with a mild and +apparently ironic gleam. + +"You see, brothers..." said he when the shouts had ceased... and all +at once his voice and the expression of his face changed. It was no +longer the commander in chief speaking but an ordinary old man who +wanted to tell his comrades something very important. + +There was a stir among the throng of officers and in the ranks of +the soldiers, who moved that they might hear better what he was +going to say. + +"You see, brothers, I know it's hard for you, but it can't be +helped! Bear up; it won't be for long now! We'll see our visitors +off and then we'll rest. The Tsar won't forget your service. It is +hard for you, but still you are at home while they- you see what +they have come to," said he, pointing to the prisoners. "Worse off +than our poorest beggars. While they were strong we didn't spare +ourselves, but now we may even pity them. They are human beings too. +Isn't it so, lads?" + +He looked around, and in the direct, respectful, wondering gaze +fixed upon him he read sympathy with what he had said. His face grew +brighter and brighter with an old man's mild smile, which drew the +corners of his lips and eyes into a cluster of wrinkles. He ceased +speaking and bowed his head as if in perplexity. + +"But after all who asked them here? Serves them right, the bloody +bastards!" he cried, suddenly lifting his head. + +And flourishing his whip he rode off at a gallop for the first +time during the whole campaign, and left the broken ranks of the +soldiers laughing joyfully and shouting "Hurrah!" + +Kutuzov's words were hardly understood by the troops. No one could +have repeated the field marshal's address, begun solemnly and then +changing into an old man's simplehearted talk; but the hearty +sincerity of that speech, the feeling of majestic triumph combined +with pity for the foe and consciousness of the justice of our cause, +exactly expressed by that old man's good-natured expletives, was not +merely understood but lay in the soul of every soldier and found +expression in their joyous and long-sustained shouts. Afterwards +when one of the generals addressed Kutuzov asking whether he wished +his caleche to be sent for, Kutuzov in answering unexpectedly gave a +sob, being evidently greatly moved. + +CHAPTER VII + +When the troops reached their night's halting place on the eighth of +November, the last day of the Krasnoe battles, it was already +growing dusk. All day it had been calm and frosty with occasional +lightly falling snow and toward evening it began to clear. Through the +falling snow a purple-black and starry sky showed itself and the frost +grew keener. + +An infantry regiment which had left Tarutino three thousand strong +but now numbered only nine hundred was one of the first to arrive that +night at its halting place- a village on the highroad. The +quartermasters who met the regiment announced that all the huts were +full of sick and dead Frenchmen, cavalrymen, and members of the staff. +There was only one hut available for the regimental commander. + +The commander rode up to his hut. The regiment passed through the +village and stacked its arms in front of the last huts. + +Like some huge many-limbed animal, the regiment began to prepare its +lair and its food. One part of it dispersed and waded knee-deep +through the snow into a birch forest to the right of the village, +and immediately the sound of axes and swords, the crashing of +branches, and merry voices could be heard from there. Another +section amid the regimental wagons and horses which were standing in a +group was busy getting out caldrons and rye biscuit, and feeding the +horses. A third section scattered through the village arranging +quarters for the staff officers, carrying out the French corpses +that were in the huts, and dragging away boards, dry wood, and +thatch from the roofs, for the campfires, or wattle fences to serve +for shelter. + +Some fifteen men with merry shouts were shaking down the high wattle +wall of a shed, the roof of which had already been removed. + +"Now then, all together- shove!" cried the voices, and the huge +surface of the wall, sprinkled with snow and creaking with frost, +was seen swaying in the gloom of the night. The lower stakes cracked +more and more and at last the wall fell, and with it the men who had +been pushing it. Loud, coarse laughter and joyous shouts ensued. + +"Now then, catch hold in twos! Hand up the lever! That's it... Where +are you shoving to?" + +"Now, all together! But wait a moment, boys... With a song!" + +All stood silent, and a soft, pleasant velvety voice began to +sing. At the end of the third verse as the last note died away, twenty +voices roared out at once: "Oo-oo-oo-oo! That's it. All together! +Heave away, boys!..." but despite their united efforts the wattle +hardly moved, and in the silence that followed the heavy breathing +of the men was audible. + +"Here, you of the Sixth Company! Devils that you are! Lend a hand... +will you? You may want us one of these days." + +Some twenty men of the Sixth Company who were on their way into +the village joined the haulers, and the wattle wall, which was about +thirty-five feet long an seven feet high, moved forward along the +village street, swaying, pressing upon and cutting the shoulders of +the gasping men. + +"Get along... Falling? What are you stopping for? There now..." + +Merry senseless words of abuse flowed freely. + +"What are you up to?" suddenly came the authoritative voice of a +sergeant major who came upon the men who were hauling their burden. +"There are gentry here; the general himself is in that hut, and you +foul-mouthed devils, you brutes, I'll give it to you!" shouted he, +hitting the first man who came in his way a swinging blow on the back. +"Can't you make less noise?" + +The men became silent. The soldier who had been struck groaned and +wiped his face, which had been scratched till it bled by his falling +against the wattle. + +"There, how that devil hits out! He's made my face all bloody," said +he in a frightened whisper when the sergeant major had passed on. + +"Don't you like it?" said a laughing voice, and moderating their +tones the men moved forward. + +When they were out of the village they began talking again as loud +as before, interlarding their talk with the same aimless expletives. + +In the hut which the men had passed, the chief officers had gathered +and were in animated talk over their tea about the events of the day +and the maneuvers suggested for tomorrow. It was proposed to make a +flank march to the left, cut off the Vice-King (Murat) and capture +him. + +By the time the soldiers had dragged the wattle fence to its place +the campfires were blazing on all sides ready for cooking, the wood +crackled, the snow was melting, and black shadows of soldiers +flitted to and fro all over the occupied space where the snow had been +trodden down. + +Axes and choppers were plied all around. Everything was done without +any orders being given. Stores of wood were brought for the night, +shelters were rigged up for the officers, caldrons were being +boiled, and muskets and accouterments put in order. + +The wattle wall the men had brought was set up in a semicircle by +the Eighth Company as a shelter from the north, propped up by musket +rests, and a campfire was built before it. They beat the tattoo, +called the roll, had supper, and settled down round the fires for +the night- some repairing their footgear, some smoking pipes, and some +stripping themselves naked to steam the lice out of their shirts. + +CHAPTER VIII + +One would have thought that under the almost incredibly wretched +conditions the Russian soldiers were in at that time- lacking warm +boots and sheepskin coats, without a roof over their heads, in the +snow with eighteen degrees of frost, and without even full rations +(the commissariat did not always keep up with the troops)- they +would have presented a very sad and depressing spectacle. + +On the contrary, the army had never under the best material +conditions presented a more cheerful and animated aspect. This was +because all who began to grow depressed or who lost strength were +sifted out of the army day by day. All the physically or morally +weak had long since been left behind and only the flower of the +army- physically and mentally- remained. + +More men collected behind the wattle fence of the Eighth Company +than anywhere else. Two sergeants major were sitting with them and +their campfire blazed brighter than others. For leave to sit by +their wattle they demanded contributions of fuel. + +"Eh, Makeev! What has become of you, you son of a bitch? Are you +lost or have the wolves eaten you? Fetch some more wood!" shouted a +red-haired and red-faced man, screwing up his eyes and blinking +because of the smoke but not moving back from the fire. "And you, +Jackdaw, go and fetch some wood!" said he to another soldier. + +This red-haired man was neither a sergeant nor a corporal, but being +robust he ordered about those weaker than himself. The soldier they +called "Jackdaw," a thin little fellow with a sharp nose, rose +obediently and was about to go but at that instant there came into the +light of the fire the slender, handsome figure of a young soldier +carrying a load of wood. + +"Bring it here- that's fine!" + +They split up the wood, pressed it down on the fire, blew at it with +their mouths, and fanned it with the skirts of their greatcoats, +making the flames hiss and crackle. The men drew nearer and lit +their pipes. The handsome young soldier who had brought the wood, +setting his arms akimbo, began stamping his cold feet rapidly and +deftly on the spot where he stood. + +"Mother! The dew is cold but clear.... It's well that I'm a +musketeer..." he sang, pretending to hiccough after each syllable. + +"Look out, your soles will fly off!" shouted the red-haired man, +noticing that the sole of the dancer's boot was hanging loose. "What a +fellow you are for dancing!" + +The dancer stopped, pulled off the loose piece of leather, and threw +it on the fire. + +"Right enough, friend," said he, and, having sat down, took out of +his knapsack a scrap of blue French cloth, and wrapped it round his +foot. "It's the steam that spoils them," he added, stretching out +his feet toward the fire. + +"They'll soon be issuing us new ones. They say that when we've +finished hammering them, we're to receive double kits!" + +"And that son of a bitch Petrov has lagged behind after all, it +seems," said one sergeant major. + +"I've had an eye on him this long while," said the other. + +"Well, he's a poor sort of soldier..." + +"But in the Third Company they say nine men were missing yesterday." + +"Yes, it's all very well, but when a man's feet are frozen how can +he walk?" + +"Eh? Don't talk nonsense!" said a sergeant major. + +"Do you want to be doing the same?" said an old soldier, turning +reproachfully to the man who had spoken of frozen feet. + +"Well, you know," said the sharp-nosed man they called Jackdaw in +a squeaky and unsteady voice, raising himself at the other side of the +fire, "a plump man gets thin, but for a thin one it's death. Take +me, now! I've got no strength left," he added, with sudden +resolution turning to the sergeant major. "Tell them to send me to +hospital; I'm aching all over; anyway I shan't be able to keep up." + +"That'll do, that'll do!" replied the sergeant major quietly. + +The soldier said no more and the talk went on. + +"What a lot of those Frenchies were taken today, and the fact is +that not one of them had what you might call real boots on," said a +soldier, starting a new theme. "They were no more than make-believes." + +"The Cossacks have taken their boots. They were clearing the hut for +the colonel and carried them out. It was pitiful to see them, boys," +put in the dancer. "As they turned them over one seemed still alive +and, would you believe it, he jabbered something in their lingo." + +"But they're a clean folk, lads," the first man went on; "he was +white- as white as birchbark- and some of them are such fine +fellows, you might think they were nobles." + +"Well, what do you think? They make soldiers of all classes there." + +"But they don't understand our talk at all," said the dancer with +a puzzled smile. "I asked him whose subject he was, and he jabbered in +his own way. A queer lot!" + +"But it's strange, friends," continued the man who had wondered at +their whiteness, "the peasants at Mozhaysk were saying that when +they began burying the dead- where the battle was you know- well, +those dead had been lying there for nearly a month, and says the +peasant, 'they lie as white as paper, clean, and not as much smell +as a puff of powder smoke.'" + +"Was it from the cold?" asked someone. + +"You're a clever fellow! From the cold indeed! Why, it was hot. If +it had been from the cold, ours would not have rotted either. 'But,' +he says, 'go up to ours and they are all rotten and maggoty. So,' he +says, 'we tie our faces up with kerchiefs and turn our heads away as +we drag them off: we can hardly do it. But theirs,' he says, 'are +white as paper and not so much smell as a whiff of gunpowder.'" + +All were silent. + +"It must be from their food," said the sergeant major. "They used to +gobble the same food as the gentry." + +No one contradicted him. + +"That peasant near Mozhaysk where the battle was said the men were +all called up from ten villages around and they carted for twenty days +and still didn't finish carting the dead away. And as for the +wolves, he says..." + +"That was a real battle," said an old soldier. "It's the only one +worth remembering; but since that... it's only been tormenting folk." + +"And do you know, Daddy, the day before yesterday we ran at them +and, my word, they didn't let us get near before they just threw +down their muskets and went on their knees. 'Pardon!' they say. That's +only one case. They say Platov took 'Poleon himself twice. But he +didn't know the right charm. He catches him and catches him- no +good! He turns into a bird in his hands and flies away. And there's no +way of killing him either." + +"You're a first-class liar, Kiselev, when I come to look at you!" + +"Liar, indeed! It's the real truth." + +"If he fell into my hands, when I'd caught him I'd bury him in the +ground with an aspen stake to fix him down. What a lot of men he's +ruined!" + +"Well, anyhow we're going to end it. He won't come here again," +remarked the old soldier, yawning. + +The conversation flagged, and the soldiers began settling down to +sleep. + +"Look at the stars. It's wonderful how they shine! You would think +the women had spread out their linen," said one of the men, gazing +with admiration at the Milky Way. + +"That's a sign of a good harvest next year." + +"We shall want some more wood." + +"You warm your back and your belly gets frozen. That's queer." + +"O Lord!" + +"What are you pushing for? Is the fire only for you? Look how he's +sprawling!" + +In the silence that ensued, the snoring of those who had fallen +asleep could be heard. Others turned over and warmed themselves, now +and again exchanging a few words. From a campfire a hundred paces +off came a sound of general, merry laughter. + +"Hark at them roaring there in the Fifth Company!" said one of the +soldiers, and what a lot of them there are!" + +One of the men got up and went over to the Fifth Company. + +"They're having such fun," said he, coming back. "Two Frenchies have +turned up. One's quite frozen and the other's an awful swaggerer. He's +singing songs...." + +"Oh, I'll go across and have a look...." + +And several of the men went over to the Fifth Company. + +CHAPTER IX + +The fifth company was bivouacking at the very edge of the forest. +A huge campfire was blazing brightly in the midst of the snow, +lighting up the branches of trees heavy with hoarfrost. + +About midnight they heard the sound of steps in the snow of the +forest, and the crackling of dry branches. + +"A bear, lads," said one of the men. + +They all raised their heads to listen, and out of the forest into +the bright firelight stepped two strangely clad human figures clinging +to one another. + +These were two Frenchmen who had been hiding in the forest. They +came up to the fire, hoarsely uttering something in a language our +soldiers did not understand. One was taller than the other; he wore an +officer's hat and seemed quite exhausted. On approaching the fire he +had been going to sit down, but fell. The other, a short sturdy +soldier with a shawl tied round his head, was stronger. He raised +his companion and said something, pointing to his mouth. The +soldiers surrounded the Frenchmen, spread a greatcoat on the ground +for the sick man, and brought some buckwheat porridge and vodka for +both of them. + +The exhausted French officer was Ramballe and the man with his +head wrapped in the shawl was Morel, his orderly. + +When Morel had drunk some vodka and finished his bowl of porridge he +suddenly became unnaturally merry and chattered incessantly to the +soldiers, who could not understand him. Ramballe refused food and +resting his head on his elbow lay silent beside the campfire, +looking at the Russian soldiers with red and vacant eyes. Occasionally +he emitted a long-drawn groan and then again became silent. Morel, +pointing to his shoulders, tried to impress on the soldiers the fact +that Ramballe was an officer and ought to be warmed. A Russian officer +who had come up to the fire sent to ask his colonel whether he would +not take a French officer into his hut to warm him, and when the +messenger returned and said that the colonel wished the officer to +be brought to him, Ramballe was told to go. He rose and tried to walk, +but staggered and would have fallen had not a soldier standing by held +him up. + +"You won't do it again, eh?" said one of the soldiers, winking and +turning mockingly to Ramballe. + +"Oh, you fool! Why talk rubbish, lout that you are- a real peasant!" +came rebukes from all sides addressed to the jesting soldier. + +They surrounded Ramballe, lifted him on the crossed arms of two +soldiers, and carried him to the hut. Ramballe put his arms around +their necks while they carried him and began wailing plaintively: + +"Oh, you fine fellows, my kind, kind friends! These are men! Oh, +my brave, kind friends," and he leaned his head against the shoulder +of one of the men like a child. + +Meanwhile Morel was sitting in the best place by the fire, +surrounded by the soldiers. + +Morel, a short sturdy Frenchman with inflamed and streaming eyes, +was wearing a woman's cloak and had a shawl tied woman fashion round +his head over his cap. He was evidently tipsy, and was singing a +French song in a hoarse broken voice, with an arm thrown round the +nearest soldier. The soldiers simply held their sides as they +watched him. + +"Now then, now then, teach us how it goes! I'll soon pick it up. How +is it?" said the man- a singer and a wag- whom Morel was embracing. + +"Vive Henri Quatre! Vive ce roi valiant!" sang Morel, winking. "Ce +diable a quatre..."~^ + +^~ "Long live Henry the Fourth, that valiant king! That rowdy devil." + +"Vivarika! Vif-seruvaru! Sedyablyaka!" repeated the soldier, +flourishing his arm and really catching the tune. + +"Bravo! Ha, ha, ha!" rose their rough, joyous laughter from all +sides. + +Morel, wrinkling up his face, laughed too. + +"Well, go on, go on!" + +_1 "Qui eut le triple talent,<br> +De boire, de battre,<br> +Et d'etre un vert galant."~^ + +^~ Who had a triple talent + +_1 For drinking, for fighting, + +_1 And for being a gallant old boy... + +"It goes smoothly, too. Well, now, Zaletaev!" + +"Ke..." Zaletaev, brought out with effort: "ke-e-e-e," he drawled, +laboriously pursing his lips, "le-trip-ta-la-de-bu-de-ba, e +de-tra-va-ga-la " he sang. + +"Fine! Just like the Frenchie! Oh, ho ho! Do you want some more to +eat?" + +"Give him some porridge: it takes a long time to get filled up after +starving." + +They gave him some more porridge and Morel with a laugh set to +work on his third bowl. All the young soldiers smiled gaily as they +watched him. The older men, who thought it undignified to amuse +themselves with such nonsense, continued to lie at the opposite side +of the fire, but one would occasionally raise himself on an elbow +and glance at Morel with a smile. + +"They are men too," said one of them as he wrapped himself up in his +coat. "Even wormwood grows on its own root." + +"O Lord, O Lord! How starry it is! Tremendous! That means a hard +frost...." + +They all grew silent. The stars, as if knowing that no one was +looking at them, began to disport themselves in the dark sky: now +flaring up, now vanishing, now trembling, they were busy whispering +something gladsome and mysterious to one another. + +CHAPTER X + +The French army melted away at the uniform rate of a mathematical +progression; and that crossing of the Berezina about which so much has +been written was only one intermediate stage in its destruction, and +not at all the decisive episode of the campaign. If so much has been +and still is written about the Berezina, on the French side this is +only because at the broken bridge across that river the calamities +their army had been previously enduring were suddenly concentrated +at one moment into a tragic spectacle that remained in every memory, +and on the Russian side merely because in Petersburg- far from the +seat of war- a plan (again one of Pfuel's) had been devised to catch +Napoleon in a strategic trap at the Berezina River. Everyone assured +himself that all would happen according to plan, and therefore +insisted that it was just the crossing of the Berezina that +destroyed the French army. In reality the results of the crossing were +much less disastrous to the French- in guns and men lost- than Krasnoe +had been, as the figures show. + +The sole importance of the crossing of the Berezina lies in the fact +that it plainly and indubitably proved the fallacy of all the plans +for cutting off the enemy's retreat and the soundness of the only +possible line of action- the one Kutuzov and the general mass of the +army demanded- namely, simply to follow the enemy up. The French crowd +fled at a continually increasing speed and all its energy was directed +to reaching its goal. It fled like a wounded animal and it was +impossible to block its path. This was shown not so much by the +arrangements it made for crossing as by what took place at the +bridges. When the bridges broke down, unarmed soldiers, people from +Moscow and women with children who were with the French transport, +all- carried on by vis inertiae- pressed forward into boats and into +the ice-covered water and did not, surrender. + +That impulse was reasonable. The condition of fugitives and of +pursuers was equally bad. As long as they remained with their own +people each might hope for help from his fellows and the definite +place he held among them. But those who surrendered, while remaining +in the same pitiful plight, would be on a lower level to claim a share +in the necessities of life. The French did not need to be informed +of the fact that half the prisoners- with whom the Russians did not +know what to do- perished of cold and hunger despite their captors' +desire to save them; they felt that it could not be otherwise. The +most compassionate Russian commanders, those favorable to the +French- and even the Frenchmen in the Russian service- could do +nothing for the prisoners. The French perished from the conditions +to which the Russian army was itself exposed. It was impossible to +take bread and clothes from our hungry and indispensable soldiers to +give to the French who, though not harmful, or hated, or guilty, +were simply unnecessary. Some Russians even did that, but they were +exceptions. + +Certain destruction lay behind the French but in front there was +hope. Their ships had been burned, there was no salvation save in +collective flight, and on that the whole strength of the French was +concentrated. + +The farther they fled the more wretched became the plight of the +remnant, especially after the Berezina, on which (in consequence of +the Petersburg plan) special hopes had been placed by the Russians, +and the keener grew the passions of the Russian commanders, blamed one +another and Kutuzov most of all. Anticipation that the failure of +the Petersburg Berezina plan would be attributed to Kutuzov led to +dissatisfaction, contempt, and ridicule, more and more strongly +expressed. The ridicule and contempt were of course expressed in a +respectful form, making it impossible for him to ask wherein he was to +blame. They did not talk seriously to him; when reporting to him or +asking for his sanction they appeared to be fulfilling a regrettable +formality, but they winked behind his back and tried to mislead him at +every turn. + +Because they could not understand him all these people assumed +that it was useless to talk to the old man; that he would never +grasp the profundity of their plans, that he would answer with his +phrases (which they thought were mere phrases) about a "golden +bridge," about the impossibility of crossing the frontier with a crowd +of tatterdemalions, and so forth. They had heard all that before. +And all he said- that it was necessary to await provisions, or that +the men had no boots- was so simple, while what they proposed was so +complicated and clever, that it was evident that he was old and stupid +and that they, though not in power, were commanders of genius. + +After the junction with the army of the brilliant admiral and +Petersburg hero Wittgenstein, this mood and the gossip of the staff +reached their maximum. Kutuzov saw this and merely sighed and shrugged +his shoulders. Only once, after the affair of the Berezina, did he get +angry and write to Bennigsen (who reported separately to the +Emperor) the following letter: + +"On account of your spells of ill health, will your excellency +please be so good as to set off for Kaluga on receipt of this, and +there await further commands and appointments from His Imperial +Majesty." + +But after Bennigsen's departure, the Grand Duke Tsarevich +Constantine Pavlovich joined the army. He had taken part in the +beginning of the campaign but had subsequently been removed from the +army by Kutuzov. Now having come to the army, he informed Kutuzov of +the Emperor's displeasure at the poor success of our forces and the +slowness of their advance. The Emperor intended to join the army +personally in a few days' time. + +The old man, experienced in court as well as in military affairs- +this same Kutuzov who in August had been chosen commander in chief +against the sovereign's wishes and who had removed the Grand Duke +and heir- apparent from the army- who on his own authority and +contrary to the Emperor's will had decided on the abandonment of +Moscow, now realized at once that his day was over, that his part +was played, and that the power he was supposed to hold was no longer +his. And he understood this not merely from the attitude of the court. +He saw on the one hand that the military business in which he had +played his part was ended and felt that his mission was +accomplished; and at the same time he began to be conscious of the +physical weariness of his aged body and of the necessity of physical +rest. + +On the twenty-ninth of November Kutuzov entered Vilna- his "dear +Vilna" as he called it. Twice during his career Kutuzov had been +governor of Vilna. In that wealthy town, which had not been injured, +he found old friends and associations, besides the comforts of life of +which he had so long been deprived. And he suddenly turned from the +cares of army and state and, as far as the passions that seethed +around him allowed, immersed himself in the quiet life to which he had +formerly been accustomed, as if all that was taking place and all that +had still to be done in the realm of history did not concern him at +all. + +Chichagov, one of the most zealous "cutters-off" and +"breakers-up," who had first wanted to effect a diversion in Greece +and then in Warsaw but never wished to go where he was sent: +Chichagov, noted for the boldness with which he spoke to the +Emperor, and who considered Kutuzov to be under an obligation to him +because when he was sent to make peace with Turkey in 1811 +independently of Kutuzov, and found that peace had already been +concluded, he admitted to the Emperor that the merit of securing +that peace was really Kutuzov's; this Chichagov was the first to +meet Kutuzov at the castle where the latter was to stay. In undress +naval uniform, with a dirk, and holding his cap under his arm, he +handed Kutuzov a garrison report and the keys of the town. The +contemptuously respectful attitude of the younger men to the old man +in his dotage was expressed in the highest degree by the behavior of +Chichagov, who knew of the accusations that were being directed +against Kutuzov. + +When speaking to Chichagov, Kutuzov incidentally mentioned that +the vehicles packed with china that had been captured from him at +Borisov had been recovered and would be restored to him. + +"You mean to imply that I have nothing to eat out of.... On the +contrary, I can supply you with everything even if you want to give +dinner parties," warmly replied Chichagov, who tried by every word +he spoke to prove his own rectitude and therefore imagined Kutuzov +to be animated by the same desire. + +Kutuzov, shrugging his shoulders, replied with his subtle +penetrating smile: "I meant merely to say what I said." + +Contrary to the Emperor's wish Kutuzov detained the greater part +of the army at Vilna. Those about him said that he became +extraordinarily slack and physically feeble during his stay in that +town. He attended to army affairs reluctantly, left everything to +his generals, and while awaiting the Emperor's arrival led a +dissipated life. + +Having left Petersburg on the seventh of December with his suite- +Count Tolstoy, Prince Volkonski, Arakcheev, and others- the Emperor +reached Vilna on the eleventh, and in his traveling sleigh drove +straight to the castle. In spite of the severe frost some hundred +generals and staff officers in full parade uniform stood in front of +the castle, as well as a guard of honor of the Semenov regiment. + +A courier who galloped to the castle in advance, in a troyka with +three foam-flecked horses, shouted "Coming!" and Konovnitsyn rushed +into the vestibule to inform Kutuzov, who was waiting in the hall +porter's little lodge. + +A minute later the old man's large stout figure in full-dress +uniform, his chest covered with orders and a scarf drawn round his +stomach, waddled out into the porch. He put on his hat with its +peaks to the sides and, holding his gloves in his hand and walking +with an effort sideways down the steps to the level of the street, +took in his hand the report he had prepared for the Emperor. + +There was running to and fro and whispering; another troyka +furiously up, and then all eyes were turned on an approaching sleigh +in which the figures of the Emperor and Volkonski could already be +descried. + +From the habit of fifty years all this had a physically agitating +effect on the old general. He carefully and hastily felt himself all +over, readjusted his hat, and pulling himself together drew himself up +and, at the very moment when the Emperor, having alighted from the +sleigh, lifted his eyes to him, handed him the report and began +speaking in his smooth, ingratiating voice. + +The Emperor with a rapid glance scanned Kutuzov from head to foot, +frowned for an instant, but immediately mastering himself went up to +the old man, extended his arms and embraced him. And this embrace too, +owing to a long-standing impression related to his innermost feelings, +had its usual effect on Kutuzov and he gave a sob. + +The Emperor greeted the officers and the Semenov guard, and again +pressing the old man's hand went with him into the castle. + +When alone with the field marshal the Emperor expressed his +dissatisfaction at the slowness of the pursuit and at the mistakes +made at Krasnoe and the Berezina, and informed him of his intentions +for a future campaign abroad. Kutuzov made no rejoinder or remark. The +same submissive, expressionless look with which he had listened to the +Emperor's commands on the field of Austerlitz seven years before +settled on his face now. + +When Kutuzov came out of the study and with lowered head was +crossing the ballroom with his heavy waddling gait, he was arrested by +someone's voice saying: + +"Your Serene Highness!" + +Kutuzov raised his head and looked for a long while into the eyes of +Count Tolstoy, who stood before him holding a silver salver on which +lay a small object. Kutuzov seemed not to understand what was expected +of him. + +Suddenly he seemed to remember; a scarcely perceptible smile flashed +across his puffy face, and bowing low and respectfully he took the +object that lay on the salver. It was the Order of St. George of the +First Class. + +CHAPTER XI + +Next day the field marshal gave a dinner and ball which the +Emperor honored by his presence. Kutuzov had received the Order of St. +George of the First Class and the Emperor showed him the highest +honors, but everyone knew of the imperial dissatisfaction with him. +The proprieties were observed and the Emperor was the first to set +that example, but everybody understood that the old man was +blameworthy and good-for-nothing. When Kutuzov, conforming to a custom +of Catherine's day, ordered the standards that had been captured to be +lowered at the Emperor's feet on his entering the ballroom, the +Emperor made a wry face and muttered something in which some people +caught the words, "the old comedian." + +The Emperor's displeasure with Kutuzov was specially increased at +Vilna by the fact that Kutuzov evidently could not or would not +understand the importance of the coming campaign. + +When on the following morning the Emperor said to the officers +assembled about him: "You have not only saved Russia, you have saved +Europe!" they all understood that the war was not ended. + +Kutuzov alone would not see this and openly expressed his opinion +that no fresh war could improve the position or add to the glory of +Russia, but could only spoil and lower the glorious position that +Russia had gained. He tried to prove to the Emperor the +impossibility of levying fresh troops, spoke of the hardships +already endured by the people, of the possibility of failure and so +forth. + +This being the field marshal's frame of mind he was naturally +regarded as merely a hindrance and obstacle to the impending war. + +To avoid unpleasant encounters with the old man, the natural +method was to do what had been done with him at Austerlitz and with +Barclay at the beginning of the Russian campaign- to transfer the +authority to the Emperor himself, thus cutting the ground from under +the commander in chief's feet without upsetting the old man by +informing him of the change. + +With this object his staff was gradually reconstructed and its +real strength removed and transferred to the Emperor. Toll, +Konovnitsyn, and Ermolov received fresh appointments. Everyone spoke +loudly of the field marshal's great weakness and failing health. + +His health had to be bad for his place to be taken away and given to +another. And in fact his health was poor. + +So naturally, simply, and gradually- just as he had come from Turkey +to the Treasury in Petersburg to recruit the militia, and then to +the army when he was needed there- now when his part was played out, +Kutuzov's place was taken by a new and necessary performer. + +The war 1812, besides its national significance dear to every +Russian heart, was now to assume another, a European, significance. + +The movement of peoples from west to east was to be succeeded by a +movement of peoples from east to west, and for this fresh war +another leader was necessary, having qualities and views differing +from Kutuzov's and animated by different motives. + +Alexander I was as necessary for the movement of the peoples from +east to west and for the refixing of national frontiers as Kutuzov had +been for the salvation and glory of Russia. + +Kutuzov did not understand what Europe, the balance of power, or +Napoleon meant. He could not understand it. For the representative +of the Russian people, after the enemy had been destroyed and Russia +had been liberated and raised to the summit of her glory, there was +nothing left to do as a Russian. Nothing remained for the +representative of the national war but to die, and Kutuzov died. + +CHAPTER XII + +As generally happens, Pierre did not feel the full effects of the +physical privation and strain he had suffered as prisoner until +after they were over. After his liberation he reached Orel, and on the +third day there, when preparing to go to Kiev, he fell ill and was +laid up for three months. He had what the doctors termed "bilious +fever." But despite the fact that the doctors treated him, bled him, +and gave him medicines to drink, he recovered. + +Scarcely any impression was left on Pierre's mind by all that +happened to him from the time of his rescue till his illness. He +remembered only the dull gray weather now rainy and now snowy, +internal physical distress, and pains in his feet and side. He +remembered a general impression of the misfortunes and sufferings of +people and of being worried by the curiosity of officers and +generals who questioned him, he also remembered his difficulty in +procuring a conveyance and horses, and above all he remembered his +incapacity to think and feel all that time. On the day of his rescue +he had seen the body of Petya Rostov. That same day he had learned +that Prince Andrew, after surviving the battle of Borodino for more +than a month had recently died in the Rostovs' house at Yaroslavl, and +Denisov who told him this news also mentioned Helene's death, +supposing that Pierre had heard of it long before. All this at the +time seemed merely strange to Pierre: he felt he could not grasp its +significance. Just then he was only anxious to get away as quickly +as possible from places where people were killing one another, to some +peaceful refuge where he could recover himself, rest, and think over +all the strange new facts he had learned; but on reaching Orel he +immediately fell ill. When he came to himself after his illness he saw +in attendance on him two of his servants, Terenty and Vaska, who had +come from Moscow; and also his cousin the eldest princess, who had +been living on his estate at Elets and hearing of his rescue and +illness had come to look after him. + +It was only gradually during his convalescence that Pierre lost +the impressions he had become accustomed to during the last few months +and got used to the idea that no one would oblige him to go anywhere +tomorrow, that no one would deprive him of his warm bed, and that he +would be sure to get his dinner, tea, and supper. But for a long +time in his dreams he still saw himself in the conditions of +captivity. In the same way little by little he came to understand +the news he had been told after his rescue, about the death of +Prince Andrew, the death of his wife, and the destruction of the +French. + +A joyous feeling of freedom- that complete inalienable freedom +natural to man which he had first experienced at the first halt +outside Moscow- filled Pierre's soul during his convalescence. He +was surprised to find that this inner freedom, which was independent +of external conditions, now had as it were an additional setting of +external liberty. He was alone in a strange town, without +acquaintances. No one demanded anything of him or sent him anywhere. +He had all he wanted: the thought of his wife which had been a +continual torment to him was no longer there, since she was no more. + +"Oh, how good! How splendid!" said he to himself when a cleanly laid +table was moved up to him with savory beef tea, or when he lay down +for the night on a soft clean bed, or when he remembered that the +French had gone and that his wife was no more. "Oh, how good, how +splendid!" + +And by old habit he asked himself the question: "Well, and what +then? What am I going to do?" And he immediately gave himself the +answer: "Well, I shall live. Ah, how splendid!" + +The very question that had formerly tormented him, the thing he +had continually sought to find- the aim of life- no longer existed for +him now. That search for the aim of life had not merely disappeared +temporarily- he felt that it no longer existed for him and could not +present itself again. And this very absence of an aim gave him the +complete, joyous sense of freedom which constituted his happiness at +this time. + +He could not see an aim, for he now had faith- not faith in any kind +of rule, or words, or ideas, but faith in an ever-living, +ever-manifest God. Formerly he had sought Him in aims he set +himself. That search for an aim had been simply a search for God, +and suddenly in his captivity he had learned not by words or reasoning +but by direct feeling what his nurse had told him long ago: that God +is here and everywhere. In his captivity he had learned that in +Karataev God was greater, more infinite and unfathomable than in the +Architect of the Universe recognized by the Freemasons. He felt like a +man who after straining his eyes to see into the far distance finds +what he sought at his very feet. All his life he had looked over the +heads of the men around him, when he should have merely looked in +front of him without straining his eyes. + +In the past he had never been able to find that great inscrutable +infinite something. He had only felt that it must exist somewhere +and had looked for it. In everything near and comprehensible he had +only what was limited, petty, commonplace, and senseless. He had +equipped himself with a mental telescope and looked into remote space, +where petty worldliness hiding itself in misty distance had seemed +to him great and infinite merely because it was not clearly seen. +And such had European life, politics, Freemasonry, philosophy, and +philanthropy seemed to him. But even then, at moments of weakness as +he had accounted them, his mind had penetrated to those distances +and he had there seen the same pettiness, worldliness, and +senselessness. Now, however, he had learned to see the great, eternal, +and infinite in everything, and therefore- to see it and enjoy its +contemplation- he naturally threw away the telescope through which +he had till now gazed over men's heads, and gladly regarded the +ever-changing, eternally great, unfathomable, and infinite life around +him. And the closer he looked the more tranquil and happy he became. +That dreadful question, "What for?" which had formerly destroyed all +his mental edifices, no longer existed for him. To that question, +"What for?" a simple answer was now always ready in his soul: "Because +there is a God, that God without whose will not one hair falls from +a man's head." + +CHAPTER XIII + +In external ways Pierre had hardly changed at all. In appearance +he was just what he used to be. As before he was absent-minded and +seemed occupied not with what was before his eyes but with something +special of his own. The difference between his former and present self +was that formerly when he did not grasp what lay before him or was +said to him, he had puckered his forehead painfully as if vainly +seeking to distinguish something at a distance. At present he still +forgot what was said to him and still did not see what was before +his eyes, but he now looked with a scarcely perceptible and +seemingly ironic smile at what was before him and listened to what was +said, though evidently seeing and hearing something quite different. +Formerly he had appeared to be a kindhearted but unhappy man, and so +people had been inclined to avoid him. Now a smile at the joy of +life always played round his lips, and sympathy for others, shone in +his eyes with a questioning look as to whether they were as +contented as he was, and people felt pleased by his presence. + +Previously he had talked a great deal, grew excited when he +talked, and seldom listened; now he was seldom carried away in +conversation and knew how to listen so that people readily told him +their most intimate secrets. + +The princess, who had never liked Pierre and had been particularly +hostile to him since she had felt herself under obligations to him +after the old count's death, now after staying a short time in Orel- +where she had come intending to show Pierre that in spite of his +ingratitude she considered it her duty to nurse him- felt to her +surprise and vexation that she had become fond of him. Pierre did +not in any way seek her approval, he merely studied her with interest. +Formerly she had felt that he regarded her with indifference and +irony, and so had shrunk into herself as she did with others and had +shown him only the combative side of her nature; but now he seemed +to be trying to understand the most intimate places of her heart, and, +mistrustfully at first but afterwards gratefully, she let him see +the hidden, kindly sides of her character. + +The most cunning man could not have crept into her confidence more +successfully, evoking memories of the best times of her youth and +showing sympathy with them. Yet Pierre's cunning consisted simply in +finding pleasure in drawing out the human qualities of the embittered, +hard, and (in her own way) proud princess. + +"Yes, he is a very, very kind man when he is not under the influence +of bad people but of people such as myself," thought she. + +His servants too- Terenty and Vaska- in their own way noticed the +change that had taken place in Pierre. They considered that he had +become much "simpler." Terenty, when he had helped him undress and +wished him good night, often lingered with his master's boots in his +hands and clothes over his arm, to see whether he would not start a +talk. And Pierre, noticing that Terenty wanted a chat, generally +kept him there. + +"Well, tell me... now, how did you get food?" he would ask. + +And Terenty would begin talking of the destruction of Moscow, and of +the old count, and would stand for a long time holding the clothes and +talking, or sometimes listening to Pierre's stories, and then would go +out into the hall with a pleasant sense of intimacy with his master +and affection for him. + +The doctor who attended Pierre and visited him every day, though +he considered it his duty as a doctor to pose as a man whose every +moment was of value to suffering humanity, would sit for hours with +Pierre telling him his favorite anecdotes and his observations on +the characters of his patients in general, and especially of the +ladies. + +"It's a pleasure to talk to a man like that; he is not like our +provincials," he would say. + +There were several prisoners from the French army in Orel, and the +doctor brought one of them, a young Italian, to see Pierre. + +This officer began visiting Pierre, and the princess used to make +fun of the tenderness the Italian expressed for him. + +The Italian seemed happy only when he could come to see Pierre, talk +with him, tell him about his past, his life at home, and his love, and +pour out to him his indignation against the French and especially +against Napoleon. + +"If all Russians are in the least like you, it is sacrilege to fight +such a nation," he said to Pierre. "You, who have suffered so from the +French, do not even feel animosity toward them." + +Pierre had evoked the passionate affection of the Italian merely +by evoking the best side of his nature and taking a pleasure in so +doing. + +During the last days of Pierre's stay in Orel his old Masonic +acquaintance Count Willarski, who had introduced him to the lodge in +1807, came to see him. Willarski was married to a Russian heiress +who had a large estate in Orel province, and he occupied a temporary +post in the commissariat department in that town. + +Hearing that Bezukhov was in Orel, Willarski, though they had +never been intimate, came to him with the professions of friendship +and intimacy that people who meet in a desert generally express for +one another. Willarski felt dull in Orel and was pleased to meet a man +of his own circle and, as he supposed, of similar interests. + +But to his surprise Willarski soon noticed that Pierre had lagged +much behind the times, and had sunk, as he expressed it to himself, +into apathy and egotism. + +"You are letting yourself go, my dear fellow," he said. + +But for all that Willarski found it pleasanter now than it had +been formerly to be with Pierre, and came to see him every day. To +Pierre as he looked at and listened to Willarski, it seemed strange to +think that he had been like that himself but a short time before. + +Willarski was a married man with a family, busy with his family +affairs, his wife's affairs, and his official duties. He regarded +all these occupations as hindrances to life, and considered that +they were all contemptible because their aim was the welfare of +himself and his family. Military, administrative, political, and +Masonic interests continually absorbed his attention. And Pierre, +without trying to change the other's views and without condemning him, +but with the quiet, joyful, and amused smile now habitual to him, +was interested in this strange though very familiar phenomenon. + +There was a new feature in Pierre's relations with Willarski, with +the princess, with the doctor, and with all the people he now met, +which gained for him the general good will. This was his +acknowledgment of the impossibility of changing a man's convictions by +words, and his recognition of the possibility of everyone thinking, +feeling, and seeing things each from his own point of view. This +legitimate peculiarity of each individual which used to excite and +irritate Pierre now became a basis of the sympathy he felt for, and +the interest he took in, other people. The difference, and sometimes +complete contradiction, between men's opinions and their lives, and +between one man and another, pleased him and drew from him an amused +and gentle smile. + +In practical matters Pierre unexpectedly felt within himself a +center of gravity he had previously lacked. Formerly all pecuniary +questions, especially requests for money to which, as an extremely +wealthy man, he was very exposed, produced in him a state of +hopeless agitation and perplexity. "To give or not to give?" he had +asked himself. "I have it and he needs it. But someone else needs it +still more. Who needs it most? And perhaps they are both impostors?" +In the old days he had been unable to find a way out of all these +surmises and had given to all who asked as long as he had anything +to give. Formerly he had been in a similar state of perplexity with +regard to every question concerning his property, when one person +advised one thing and another something else. + +Now to his surprise he found that he no longer felt either doubt +or perplexity about these questions. There was now within him a +judge who by some rule unknown to him decided what should or should +not be done. + +He was as indifferent as heretofore to money matters, but now he +felt certain of what ought and what ought not to be done. The first +time he had recourse to his new judge was when a French prisoner, a +colonel, came to him and, after talking a great deal about his +exploits, concluded by making what amounted to a demand that Pierre +should give him four thousand francs to send to his wife and children. +Pierre refused without the least difficulty or effort, and was +afterwards surprised how simple and easy had been what used to +appear so insurmountably difficult. At the same time that he refused +the colonel's demand he made up his mind that he must have recourse to +artifice when leaving Orel, to induce the Italian officer to accept +some money of which he was evidently in need. A further proof to +Pierre of his own more settled outlook on practical matters was +furnished by his decision with regard to his wife's debts and to the +rebuilding of his houses in and near Moscow. + +His head steward came to him at Orel and Pierre reckoned up with him +his diminished income. The burning of Moscow had cost him, according +to the head steward's calculation, about two million rubles. + +To console Pierre for these losses the head steward gave him an +estimate showing that despite these losses his income would not be +diminished but would even be increased if he refused to pay his wife's +debts which he was under no obligation to meet, and did not rebuild +his Moscow house and the country house on his Moscow estate, which had +cost him eighty thousand rubles a year and brought in nothing. + +"Yes, of course that's true," said Pierre with a cheerful smile. +"I don't need all that at all. By being ruined I have become much +richer." + +But in January Savelich came from Moscow and gave him an account +of the state of things there, and spoke of the estimate an architect +had made of the cost of rebuilding the town and country houses, +speaking of this as of a settled matter. About the same time he +received letters from Prince Vasili and other Petersburg acquaintances +speaking of his wife's debts. And Pierre decided that the steward's +proposals which had so pleased him were wrong and that he must go to +Petersburg and settle his wife's affairs and must rebuild in Moscow. +Why this was necessary he did not know, but he knew for certain that +it was necessary. His income would be reduced by three fourths, but he +felt it must be done. + +Willarski was going to Moscow and they agreed to travel together. + +During the whole time of his convalescence in Orel Pierre had +experienced a feeling of joy, freedom, and life; but when during his +journey he found himself in the open world and saw hundreds of new +faces, that feeling was intensified. Throughout his journey he felt +like a schoolboy on holiday. Everyone- the stagecoach driver, the +post-house overseers, the peasants on the roads and in the villages- +had a new significance for him. The presence and remarks of +Willarski who continually deplored the ignorance and poverty of Russia +and its backwardness compared with Europe only heightened Pierre's +pleasure. Where Willarski saw deadness Pierre saw an extraordinary +strength and vitality- the strength which in that vast space amid +the snows maintained the life of this original, peculiar, and unique +people. He did not contradict Willarski and even seemed to agree +with him- an apparent agreement being the simplest way to avoid +discussions that could lead to nothing- and he smiled joyfully as he +listened to him. + +CHAPTER XIV + +It would be difficult to explain why and whither ants whose heap has +been destroyed are hurrying: some from the heap dragging bits of +rubbish, larvae, and corpses, others back to the heap, or why they +jostle, overtake one another, and fight, and it would be equally +difficult to explain what caused the Russians after the departure of +the French to throng to the place that had formerly been Moscow. But +when we watch the ants round their ruined heap, the tenacity, +energy, and immense number of the delving insects prove that despite +the destruction of the heap, something indestructible, which though +intangible is the real strength of the colony, still exists; and +similarly, though in Moscow in the month of October there was no +government no churches, shrines, riches, or houses- it was still the +Moscow it had been in August. All was destroyed, except something +intangible yet powerful and indestructible. + +The motives of those who thronged from all sides to Moscow after +it had been cleared of the enemy were most diverse and personal, and +at first for the most part savage and brutal. One motive only they all +had in common: a desire to get to the place that had been called +Moscow, to apply their activities there. + +Within a week Moscow already had fifteen thousand inhabitants, in +a fortnight twenty-five thousand, and so on. By the autumn of 1813 the +number, ever increasing and increasing, exceeded what it had been in +1812. + +The first Russians to enter Moscow were the Cossacks of +Wintzingerode's detachment, peasants from the adjacent villages, and +residents who had fled from Moscow and had been hiding in its +vicinity. The Russians who entered Moscow, finding it plundered, +plundered it in their turn. They continued what the French had +begun. Trains of peasant carts came to Moscow to carry off to the +villages what had been abandoned in the ruined houses and the streets. +The Cossacks carried off what they could to their camps, and the +householders seized all they could find in other houses and moved it +to their own, pretending that it was their property. + +But the first plunderers were followed by a second and a third +contingent, and with increasing numbers plundering became more and +more difficult and assumed more definite forms. + +The French found Moscow abandoned but with all the organizations +of regular life, with diverse branches of commerce and +craftsmanship, with luxury, and governmental and religious +institutions. These forms were lifeless but still existed. There +were bazaars, shops, warehouses, market stalls, granaries- for the +most part still stocked with goods- and there were factories and +workshops, palaces and wealthy houses filled with luxuries, hospitals, +prisons, government offices, churches, and cathedrals. The longer +the French remained the more these forms of town life perished, +until finally all was merged into one confused, lifeless scene of +plunder. + +The more the plundering by the French continued, the more both the +wealth of Moscow and the strength of its plunderers was destroyed. But +plundering by the Russians, with which the reoccupation of the city +began, had an opposite effect: the longer it continued and the greater +the number of people taking part in it the more rapidly was the wealth +of the city and its regular life restored. + +Besides the plunderers, very various people, some drawn by +curiosity, some by official duties, some by self-interest- house +owners, clergy, officials of all kinds, tradesmen, artisans, and +peasants- streamed into Moscow as blood flows to the heart. + +Within a week the peasants who came with empty carts to carry off +plunder were stopped by the authorities and made to cart the corpses +out of the town. Other peasants, having heard of their comrades' +discomfiture, came to town bringing rye, oats, and hay, and beat +down one another's prices to below what they had been in former +days. Gangs of carpenters hoping for high pay arrived in Moscow +every day, and on all sides logs were being hewn, new houses built, +and old, charred ones repaired. Tradesmen began trading in booths. +Cookshops and taverns were opened in partially burned houses. The +clergy resumed the services in many churches that had not been burned. +Donors contributed Church property that had been stolen. Government +clerks set up their baize-covered tables and their pigeonholes of +documents in small rooms. The higher authorities and the police +organized the distribution of goods left behind by the French. The +owners of houses in which much property had been left, brought there +from other houses, complained of the injustice of taking everything to +the Faceted Palace in the Kremlin; others insisted that as the +French had gathered things from different houses into this or that +house, it would be unfair to allow its owner to keep all that was +found there. They abused the police and bribed them, made out +estimates at ten times their value for government stores that had +perished in the fire, and demanded relief. And Count Rostopchin +wrote proclamations. + +CHAPTER XV + +At the end of January Pierre went to Moscow and stayed in an annex +of his house which had not been burned. He called on Count +Rostopchin and on some acquaintances who were back in Moscow, and he +intended to leave for Petersburg two days later. Everybody was +celebrating the victory, everything was bubbling with life in the +ruined but reviving city. Everyone was pleased to see Pierre, everyone +wished to meet him, and everyone questioned him about what he had +seen. Pierre felt particularly well disposed toward them all, but +was now instinctively on his guard for fear of binding himself in +any way. To all questions put to him- whether important or quite +trifling- such as: Where would he live? Was he going to rebuild? +When was he going to Petersburg and would he mind taking a parcel +for someone?- he replied: "Yes, perhaps," or, "I think so," and so on. + +He had heard that the Rostovs were at Kostroma but the thought of +Natasha seldom occurred to him. If it did it was only as a pleasant +memory of the distant past. He felt himself not only free from +social obligations but also from that feeling which, it seemed to him, +he had aroused in himself. + +On the third day after his arrival he heard from the Drubetskoys +that Princess Mary was in Moscow. The death, sufferings, and last days +of Prince Andrew had often occupied Pierre's thoughts and now recurred +to him with fresh vividness. Having heard at dinner that Princess Mary +was in Moscow and living in her house- which had not been burned- in +Vozdvizhenka Street, he drove that same evening to see her. + +On his way to the house Pierre kept thinking of Prince Andrew, of +their friendship, of his various meetings with him, and especially +of the last one at Borodino. + +"Is it possible that he died in the bitter frame of mind he was then +in? Is it possible that the meaning of life was not disclosed to him +before he died?" thought Pierre. He recalled Karataev and his death +and involuntarily began to compare these two men, so different, and +yet so similar in that they had both lived and both died and in the +love he felt for both of them. + +Pierre drove up to the house of the old prince in a most serious +mood. The house had escaped the fire; it showed signs of damage but +its general aspect was unchanged. The old footman, who met Pierre with +a stern face as if wishing to make the visitor feel that the absence +of the old prince had not disturbed the order of things in the +house, informed him that the princess had gone to her own +apartments, and that she received on Sundays. + +"Announce me. Perhaps she will see me," said Pierre. + +"Yes, sir," said the man. "Please step into the portrait gallery." + +A few minutes later the footman returned with Dessalles, who brought +word from the princess that she would be very glad to see Pierre if he +would excuse her want of ceremony and come upstairs to her apartment. + +In a rather low room lit by one candle sat the princess and with her +another person dressed in black. Pierre remembered that the princess +always had lady companions, but who they were and what they were +like he never knew or remembered. "This must be one of her +companions," he thought, glancing at the lady in the black dress. + +The princess rose quickly to meet him and held out her hand. + +"Yes," she said, looking at his altered face after he had kissed her +hand, "so this is how we meet again. He of spoke of you even at the +very last," she went on, turning her eyes from Pierre to her companion +with a shyness that surprised him for an instant. + +"I was so glad to hear of your safety. It was the first piece of +good news we had received for a long time." + +Again the princess glanced round at her companion with even more +uneasiness in her manner and was about to add something, but Pierre +interrupted her. + +"Just imagine- I knew nothing about him!" said he. "I thought he had +been killed. All I know I heard at second hand from others. I only +know that he fell in with the Rostovs.... What a strange coincidence!" + +Pierre spoke rapidly and with animation. He glanced once at the +companion's face, saw her attentive and kindly gaze fixed on him, and, +as often happens when one is talking, felt somehow that this companion +in the black dress was a good, kind, excellent creature who would +not hinder his conversing freely with Princess Mary. + +But when he mentioned the Rostovs, Princess Mary's face expressed +still greater embarrassment. She again glanced rapidly from Pierre's +face to that of the lady in the black dress and said: + +"Do you really not recognize her?" + +Pierre looked again at the companion's pale, delicate face with +its black eyes and peculiar mouth, and something near to him, long +forgotten and more than sweet, looked at him from those attentive +eyes. + +"But no, it can't be!" he thought. "This stern, thin, pale face that +looks so much older! It cannot be she. It merely reminds me of her." +But at that moment Princess Mary said, "Natasha!" And with difficulty, +effort, and stress, like the opening of a door grown rusty on its +hinges, a smile appeared on the face with the attentive eyes, and from +that opening door came a breath of fragrance which suffused Pierre +with a happiness he had long forgotten and of which he had not even +been thinking- especially at that moment. It suffused him, seized him, +and enveloped him completely. When she smiled doubt was no longer +possible, it was Natasha and he loved her. + +At that moment Pierre involuntarily betrayed to her, to Princess +Mary, and above all to himself, a secret of which he himself had +been unaware. He flushed joyfully yet with painful distress. He +tried to hide his agitation. But the more he tried to hide it the more +clearly- clearer than any words could have done- did he betray to +himself, to her, and to Princess Mary that he loved her. + +"No, it's only the unexpectedness of it," thought Pierre. But as +soon as he tried to continue the conversation he had begun with +Princess Mary he again glanced at Natasha, and a still-deeper flush +suffused his face and a still-stronger agitation of mingled joy and +fear seized his soul. He became confused in his speech and stopped +in the middle of what he was saying. + +Pierre had failed to notice Natasha because he did not at all expect +to see her there, but he had failed to recognize her because the +change in her since he last saw her was immense. She had grown thin +and pale, but that was not what made her unrecognizable; she was +unrecognizable at the moment he entered because on that face whose +eyes had always shone with a suppressed smile of the joy of life, +now when he first entered and glanced at her there was not the least +shadow of a smile: only her eyes were kindly attentive and sadly +interrogative. + +Pierre's confusion was not reflected by any confusion on Natasha's +part, but only by the pleasure that just perceptibly lit up her +whole face. + +CHAPTER XVI + +"She has come to stay with me," said Princess Mary. "The count and +countess will be here in a few days. The countess is in a dreadful +state; but it was necessary for Natasha herself to see a doctor. +They insisted on her coming with me." + +"Yes, is there a family free from sorrow now?" said Pierre, +addressing Natasha. "You know it happened the very day we were +rescued. I saw him. What a delightful boy he was!" + +Natasha looked at him, and by way of answer to his words her eyes +widened and lit up. + +"What can one say or think of as a consolation?" said Pierre. +"Nothing! Why had such a splendid boy, so full of life, to die?" + +"Yes, in these days it would be hard to live without faith..." +remarked Princess Mary. + +"Yes, yes, that is really true," Pierre hastily interrupted her. + +"Why is it true?" Natasha asked, looking attentively into Pierre's +eyes. + +"How can you ask why?" said Princess Mary. "The thought alone of +what awaits..." + +Natasha without waiting for Princess Mary to finish again looked +inquiringly at Pierre. + +"And because," Pierre continued, "only one who believes that there +is a God ruling us can bear a loss such as hers and... yours." + +Natasha had already opened her mouth to speak but suddenly +stopped. Pierre hurriedly turned away from her and again addressed +Princess Mary, asking about his friend's last days. + +Pierre's confusion had now almost vanished, but at the same time +he felt that his freedom had also completely gone. He felt that +there was now a judge of his every word and action whose judgment +mattered more to him than that of all the rest of the world. As he +spoke now he was considering what impression his words would make on +Natasha. He did not purposely say things to please her, but whatever +he was saying he regarded from her standpoint. + +Princess Mary- reluctantly as is usual in such cases- began +telling of the condition in which she had found Prince Andrew. But +Pierre's face quivering with emotion, his questions and his eager +restless expression, gradually compelled her to go into details +which she feared to recall for her own sake. + +"Yes, yes, and so...? " Pierre kept saying as he leaned toward her +with his whole body and eagerly listened to her story. "Yes, yes... so +he grew tranquil and softened? With all his soul he had always +sought one thing- to be perfectly good- so he could not be afraid of +death. The faults he had- if he had any- were not of his making. So he +did soften?... What a happy thing that he saw you again," he added, +suddenly turning to Natasha and looking at her with eyes full of +tears. + +Natasha's face twitched. She frowned and lowered her eyes for a +moment. She hesitated for an instant whether to speak or not. + +"Yes, that was happiness," she then said in her quiet voice with its +deep chest notes. "For me it certainly was happiness." She paused. +"And he... he... he said he was wishing for it at the very moment I +entered the room...." + +Natasha's voice broke. She blushed, pressed her clasped hands on her +knees, and then controlling herself with an evident effort lifted +her head and began to speak rapidly. + +"We knew nothing of it when we started from Moscow. I did not dare +to ask about him. Then suddenly Sonya told me he was traveling with +us. I had no idea and could not imagine what state he was in, all I +wanted was to see him and be with him," she said, trembling, and +breathing quickly. + +And not letting them interrupt her she went on to tell what she +had never yet mentioned to anyone- all she had lived through during +those three weeks of their journey and life at Yaroslavl. + +Pierre listened to her with lips parted and eyes fixed upon her full +of tears. As he listened he did not think of Prince Andrew, nor of +death, nor of what she was telling. He listened to her and felt only +pity for her, for what she was suffering now while she was speaking. + +Princess Mary, frowning in her effort to hold back her tears, sat +beside Natasha, and heard for the first time the story of those last +days of her brother's and Natasha's love. + +Evidently Natasha needed to tell that painful yet joyful tale. + +She spoke, mingling most trifling details with the intimate +secrets of her soul, and it seemed as if she could never finish. +Several times she repeated the same thing twice. + +Dessalles' voice was heard outside the door asking whether little +Nicholas might come in to say good night. + +"Well, that's all- everything," said Natasha. + +She got up quickly just as Nicholas entered, almost ran to the +door which was hidden by curtains, struck her head against it, and +rushed from the room with a moan either of pain or sorrow. + +Pierre gazed at the door through which she had disappeared and did +not understand why he suddenly felt all alone in the world. + +Princess Mary roused him from his abstraction by drawing his +attention to her nephew who had entered the room. + +At that moment of emotional tenderness young Nicholas' face, which +resembled his father's, affected Pierre so much that when he had +kissed the boy he got up quickly, took out his handkerchief, and +went to the window. He wished to take leave of Princess Mary, but +she would not let him go. + +"No, Natasha and I sometimes don't go to sleep till after two, so +please don't go. I will order supper. Go downstairs, we will come +immediately." + +Before Pierre left the room Princess Mary told him: "This is the +first time she has talked of him like that." + +CHAPTER XVII + +Pierre was shown into the large, brightly lit dining room; a few +minutes later he heard footsteps and Princess Mary entered with +Natasha. Natasha was calm, though a severe and grave expression had +again settled on her face. They all three of them now experienced that +feeling of awkwardness which usually follows after a serious and +heartfelt talk. It is impossible to go back to the same +conversation, to talk of trifles is awkward, and yet the desire to +speak is there and silence seems like affectation. They went +silently to table. The footmen drew back the chairs and pushed them up +again. Pierre unfolded his cold table napkin and, resolving to break +the silence, looked at Natasha and at Princess Mary. They had +evidently both formed the same resolution; the eyes of both shone with +satisfaction and a confession that besides sorrow life also has joy. + +"Do you take vodka, Count?" asked Princess Mary, and those words +suddenly banished the shadows of the past. "Now tell us about +yourself," said she. "One hears such improbable wonders about you." + +"Yes," replied Pierre with the smile of mild irony now habitual to +him. "They even tell me wonders I myself never dreamed of! Mary +Abramovna invited me to her house and kept telling me what had +happened, or ought to have happened, to me. Stepan Stepanych also +instructed me how I ought to tell of my experiences. In general I have +noticed that it is very easy to be an interesting man (I am an +interesting man now); people invite me out and tell me all about +myself." + +Natasha smiled and was on the point of speaking. + +"We have been told," Princess Mary interrupted her, "that you lost +two millions in Moscow. Is that true?" + +"But I am three times as rich as before," returned Pierre. + +Though the position was now altered by his decision to pay his +wife's debts and to rebuild his houses, Pierre still maintained that +he had become three times as rich as before. + +"What I have certainly gained is freedom," he began seriously, but +did not continue, noticing that this theme was too egotistic. + +"And are you building?" + +"Yes. Savelich says I must!" + +"Tell me, you did not know of the countess' death when you decided +to remain in Moscow?" asked Princess Mary and immediately blushed, +noticing that her question, following his mention of freedom, ascribed +to his words a meaning he had perhaps not intended. + +"No," answered Pierre, evidently not considering awkward the meaning +Princess Mary had given to his words. "I heard of it in Orel and you +cannot imagine how it shocked me. We were not an exemplary couple," he +added quickly, glancing at Natasha and noticing on her face +curiosity as to how he would speak of his wife, "but her death shocked +me terribly. When two people quarrel they are always both in fault, +and one's own guilt suddenly becomes terribly serious when the other +is no longer alive. And then such a death... without friends and +without consolation! I am very, very sorry for her," he concluded, and +was pleased to notice a look of glad approval on Natasha's face. + +"Yes, and so you are once more an eligible bachelor," said +Princess Mary. + +Pierre suddenly flushed crimson and for a long time tried not to +look at Natasha. When he ventured to glance her way again her face was +cold, stern, and he fancied even contemptuous. + +"And did you really see and speak to Napoleon, as we have been +told?" said Princess Mary. + +Pierre laughed. + +"No, not once! Everybody seems to imagine that being taken +prisoner means being Napoleon's guest. Not only did I never see him +but I heard nothing about him- I was in much lower company!" + +Supper was over, and Pierre who at first declined to speak about his +captivity was gradually led on to do so. + +"But it's true that you remained in Moscow to kill Napoleon?" +Natasha asked with a slight smile. "I guessed it then when we met at +the Sukharev tower, do you remember?" + +Pierre admitted that it was true, and from that was gradually led by +Princess Mary's questions and especially by Natasha's into giving a +detailed account of his adventures. + +At first he spoke with the amused and mild irony now customary +with him toward everybody and especially toward himself, but when he +came to describe the horrors and sufferings he had witnessed he was +unconsciously carried away and began speaking with the suppressed +emotion of a man re-experiencing in recollection strong impressions he +has lived through. + +Princess Mary with a gentle smile looked now at Pierre and now at +Natasha. In the whole narrative she saw only Pierre and his +goodness. Natasha, leaning on her elbow, the expression of her face +constantly changing with the narrative, watched Pierre with an +attention that never wandered- evidently herself experiencing all that +he described. Not only her look, but her exclamations and the brief +questions she put, showed Pierre that she understood just what he +wished to convey. It was clear that she understood not only what he +said but also what he wished to, but could not, express in words. +The account Pierre gave of the incident with the child and the woman +for protecting whom he was arrested was this: "It was an awful +sight- children abandoned, some in the flames... One was snatched +out before my eyes... and there were women who had their things +snatched off and their earrings torn out..." he flushed and grew +confused. "Then a patrol arrived and all the men- all those who were +not looting, that is- were arrested, and I among them." + +"I am sure you're not telling us everything; I am sure you did +something..." said Natasha and pausing added, "something fine?" + +Pierre continued. When he spoke of the execution he wanted to pass +over the horrible details, but Natasha insisted that he should not +omit anything. + +Pierre began to tell about Karataev, but paused. By this time he had +risen from the table and was pacing the room, Natasha following him +with her eyes. Then he added: + +"No, you can't understand what I learned from that illiterate man- +that simple fellow." + +"Yes, yes, go on!" said Natasha. "Where is he?" + +"They killed him almost before my eyes." + +And Pierre, his voice trembling continually, went on to tell of +the last days of their retreat, of Karataev's illness and his death. + +He told of his adventures as he had never yet recalled them. He now, +as it were, saw a new meaning in all he had gone through. Now that +he was telling it all to Natasha he experienced that pleasure which +a man has when women listen to him- not clever women who when +listening either try to remember what they hear to enrich their +minds and when opportunity offers to retell it, or who wish to adopt +it to some thought of their own and promptly contribute their own +clever comments prepared in their little mental workshop- but the +pleasure given by real women gifted with a capacity to select and +absorb the very best a man shows of himself. Natasha without knowing +it was all attention: she did not lose a word, no single quiver in +Pierre's voice, no look, no twitch of a muscle in his face, nor a +single gesture. She caught the unfinished word in its flight and +took it straight into her open heart, divining the secret meaning of +all Pierre's mental travail. + +Princess Mary understood his story and sympathized with him, but she +now saw something else that absorbed all her attention. She saw the +possibility of love and happiness between Natasha and Pierre, and +the first thought of this filled her heart with gladness. + +It was three o'clock in the morning. The footmen came in with sad +and stern faces to change the candles, but no one noticed them. + +Pierre finished his story. Natasha continued to look at him intently +with bright, attentive, and animated eyes, as if trying to +understand something more which he had perhaps left untold. Pierre +in shamefaced and happy confusion glanced occasionally at her, and +tried to think what to say next to introduce a fresh subject. Princess +Mary was silent. It occurred to none of them that it was three o'clock +and time to go to bed. + +"People speak of misfortunes and sufferings," remarked Pierre, +"but if at this moment I were asked: 'Would you rather be what you +were before you were taken prisoner, or go through all this again?' +then for heaven's sake let me again have captivity and horseflesh! +We imagine that when we are thrown out of our usual ruts all is +lost, but it is only then that what is new and good begins. While +there is life there is happiness. There is much, much before us. I say +this to you," he added, turning to Natasha. + +"Yes, yes," she said, answering something quite different. "I too +should wish nothing but to relive it all from the beginning." + +Pierre looked intently at her. + +"Yes, and nothing more." said Natasha. + +"It's not true, not true!" cried Pierre. "I am not to blame for +being alive and wishing to live- nor you either." + +Suddenly Natasha bent her head, covered her face with her hands, and +began to cry. + +"What is it, Natasha?" said Princess Mary. + +"Nothing, nothing." She smiled at Pierre through her tears. "Good +night! It is time for bed." + +Pierre rose and took his leave. + +Princess Mary and Natasha met as usual in the bedroom. They talked +of what Pierre had told them. Princess Mary did not express her +opinion of Pierre nor did Natasha speak of him. + +"Well, good night, Mary!" said Natasha. "Do you know, I am often +afraid that by not speaking of him" (she meant Prince Andrew) "for +fear of not doing justice to our feelings, we forget him." + +Princess Mary sighed deeply and thereby acknowledged the justice +of Natasha's remark, but she did not express agreement in words. + +"Is it possible to forget?" said she. + +"It did me so much good to tell all about it today. It was hard +and painful, but good, very good!" said Natasha. "I am sure he +really loved him. That is why I told him... Was it all right?" she +added, suddenly blushing. + +"To tell Pierre? Oh, yes. What a splendid man he is!" said +Princess Mary. + +"Do you know, Mary..." Natasha suddenly said with a mischievous +smile such as Princess Mary had not seen on her face for a long +time, "he has somehow grown so clean, smooth, and fresh- as if he +had just come out of a Russian bath; do you understand? Out of a moral +bath. Isn't it true?" + +"Yes," replied Princess Mary. "He has greatly improved." + +"With a short coat and his hair cropped; just as if, well, just as +if he had come straight from the bath... Papa used to..." + +"I understand why he" (Prince Andrew) "liked no one so much as him," +said Princess Mary. + +"Yes, and yet he is quite different. They say men are friends when +they are quite different. That must be true. Really he is quite unlike +him- in everything." + +"Yes, but he's wonderful." + +"Well, good night," said Natasha. + +And the same mischievous smile lingered for a long time on her +face as if it had been forgotten there. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +It was a long time before Pierre could fall asleep that night. He +paced up and down his room, now turning his thoughts on a difficult +problem and frowning, now suddenly shrugging his shoulders and +wincing, and now smiling happily. + +He was thinking of Prince Andrew, of Natasha, and of their love, +at one moment jealous of her past, then reproaching himself for that +feeling. It was already six in the morning and he still paced up and +down the room. + +"Well, what's to be done if it cannot be avoided? What's to be done? +Evidently it has to be so," said he to himself, and hastily undressing +he got into bed, happy and agitated but free from hesitation or +indecision. + +"Strange and impossible as such happiness seems, I must do +everything that she and I may be man and wife," he told himself. + +A few days previously Pierre had decided to go to Petersburg on +the Friday. When he awoke on the Thursday, Savelich came to ask him +about packing for the journey. + +"What, to Petersburg? What is Petersburg? Who is there in +Petersburg?" he asked involuntarily, though only to himself. "Oh, yes, +long ago before this happened I did for some reason mean to go to +Petersburg," he reflected. "Why? But perhaps I shall go. What a good +fellow he is and how attentive, and how he remembers everything," he +thought, looking at Savelich's old face, "and what a pleasant smile he +has!" + +"Well, Savelich, do you still not wish to accept your freedom?" +Pierre asked him. + +"What's the good of freedom to me, your excellency? We lived under +the late count- the kingdom of heaven be his!- and we have lived under +you too, without ever being wronged." + +"And your children?" + +"The children will live just the same. With such masters one can +live." + +"But what about my heirs?" said Pierre. "Supposing I suddenly +marry... it might happen," he added with an involuntary smile. + +"If I may take the liberty, your excellency, it would be a good +thing." + +"How easy he thinks it," thought Pierre. "He doesn't know how +terrible it is and how dangerous. Too soon or too late... it is +terrible!" + +"So what are your orders? Are you starting tomorrow?" asked +Savelich. + +"No, I'll put it off for a bit. I'll tell you later. You must +forgive the trouble I have put you to," said Pierre, and seeing +Savelich smile, he thought: "But how strange it is that he should +not know that now there is no Petersburg for me, and that that must be +settled first of all! But probably he knows it well enough and is only +pretending. Shall I have a talk with him and see what he thinks?" +Pierre reflected. "No, another time." + +At breakfast Pierre told the princess, his cousin, that he had +been to see Princess Mary the day before and had there met- "Whom do +you think? Natasha Rostova!" + +The princess seemed to see nothing more extraordinary in that than +if he had seen Anna Semenovna. + +"Do you know her?" asked Pierre. + +"I have seen the princess," she replied. "I heard that they were +arranging a match for her with young Rostov. It would be a very good +thing for the Rostovs, they are said to be utterly ruined." + +"No; I mean do you know Natasha Rostova?" + +"I heard about that affair of hers at the time. It was a great +pity." + +"No, she either doesn't understand or is pretending," thought +Pierre. "Better not say anything to her either." + +The princess too had prepared provisions for Pierre's journey. + +"How kind they all are," thought Pierre. "What is surprising is that +they should trouble about these things now when it can no longer be of +interest to them. And all for me!" + +On the same day the Chief of Police came to Pierre, inviting him +to send a representative to the Faceted Palace to recover things +that were to be returned to their owners that day. + +"And this man too," thought Pierre, looking into the face of the +Chief of Police. "What a fine, good-looking officer and how kind. +Fancy bothering about such trifies now! And they actually say he is +not honest and takes bribes. What nonsense! Besides, why shouldn't +he take bribes? That's the way he was brought up, and everybody does +it. But what a kind, pleasant face and how he smiles as he looks at +me." + +Pierre went to Princess Mary's to dinner. + +As he drove through the streets past the houses that had been burned +down, he was surprised by the beauty of those ruins. The +picturesqueness of the chimney stacks and tumble-down walls of the +burned-out quarters of the town, stretching out and concealing one +another, reminded him of the Rhine and the Colosseum. The cabmen he +met and their passengers, the carpenters cutting the timber for new +houses with axes, the women hawkers, and the shopkeepers, all looked +at him with cheerful beaming eyes that seemed to say: "Ah, there he +is! Let's see what will come of it!" + +At the entrance to Princess Mary's house Pierre felt doubtful +whether he had really been there the night before and really seen +Natasha and talked to her. "Perhaps I imagined it; perhaps I shall +go in and find no one there." But he had hardly entered the room +before he felt her presence with his whole being by the loss of his +sense of freedom. She was in the same black dress with soft folds +and her hair was done the same way as the day before, yet she was +quite different. Had she been like this when he entered the day before +he could not for a moment have failed to recognize her. + +She was as he had known her almost as a child and later on as Prince +Andrew's fiancee. A bright questioning light shone in her eyes, and on +her face was a friendly and strangely roguish expression. + +Pierre dined with them and would have spent the whole evening there, +but Princess Mary was going to vespers and Pierre left the house +with her. + +Next day he came early, dined, and stayed the whole evening. +Though Princess Mary and Natasha were evidently glad to see their +visitor and though all Pierre's interest was now centered in that +house, by the evening they had talked over everything and the +conversation passed from one trivial topic to another and repeatedly +broke off. He stayed so long that Princess Mary and Natasha +exchanged glances, evidently wondering when he would go. Pierre +noticed this but could not go. He felt uneasy and embarrassed, but sat +on because he simply could not get up and take his leave. + +Princess Mary, foreseeing no end to this, rose first, and +complaining of a headache began to say good night. + +"So you are going to Petersburg tomorrow?" she asked. + +"No, I am not going," Pierre replied hastily, in a surprised tone +and as though offended. "Yes... no... to Petersburg? Tomorrow- but I +won't say good-by yet. I will call round in case you have any +commissions for me," said he, standing before Princess Mary and +turning red, but not taking his departure. + +Natasha gave him her hand and went out. Princess Mary on the other +hand instead of going away sank into an armchair, and looked sternly +and intently at him with her deep, radiant eyes. The weariness she had +plainly shown before had now quite passed off. With a deep and +long-drawn sigh she seemed to be prepared for a lengthy talk. + +When Natasha left the room Pierre's confusion and awkwardness +immediately vanished and were replaced by eager excitement. He quickly +moved an armchair toward Princess Mary. + +"Yes, I wanted to tell you," said he, answering her look as if she +had spoken. "Princess, help me! What am I to do? Can I hope? Princess, +my dear friend, listen! I know it all. I know I am not worthy of +her, I know it's impossible to speak of it now. But I want to be a +brother to her. No, not that, I don't, I can't..." + +He paused and rubbed his face and eyes with his hands. + +"Well," he went on with an evident effort at self-control and +coherence. "I don't know when I began to love her, but I have loved +her and her alone all my life, and I love her so that I cannot imagine +life without her. I cannot propose to her at present, but the +thought that perhaps she might someday be my wife and that I may be +missing that possibility... that possibility... is terrible. Tell +me, can I hope? Tell me what I am to do, dear princess!" he added +after a pause, and touched her hand as she did not reply. + +"I am thinking of what you have told me," answered Princess Mary. +"This is what I will say. You are right that to speak to her of love +at present..." + +Princess Mary stopped. She was going to say that to speak of love +was impossible, but she stopped because she had seen by the sudden +change in Natasha two days before that she would not only not be +hurt if Pierre spoke of his love, but that it was the very thing she +wished for. + +"To speak to her now wouldn't do," said the princess all the same. + +"But what am I to do? + +"Leave it to me," said Princess Mary. "I know..." + +Pierre was looking into Princess Mary's eyes. + +"Well?... Well?..." he said. + +"I know that she loves... will love you," Princess Mary corrected +herself. + +Before her words were out, Pierre had sprung up and with a +frightened expression seized Princess Mary's hand. + +"What makes you think so? You think I may hope? You think...?" + +"Yes, I think so," said Princess Mary with a smile. "Write to her +parents, and leave it to me. I will tell her when I can. I wish it +to happen and my heart tells me it will." + +"No, it cannot be! How happy I am! But it can't be.... How happy I +am! No, it can't be!" Pierre kept saying as he kissed Princess +Mary's hands. + +"Go to Petersburg, that will be best. And I will write to you," +she said. + +"To Petersburg? Go there? Very well, I'll go. But I may come again +tomorrow?" + +Next day Pierre came to say good-by. Natasha was less animated +than she had been the day before; but that day as he looked at her +Pierre sometimes felt as if he was vanishing and that neither he nor +she existed any longer, that nothing existed but happiness. "Is it +possible? No, it can't be," he told himself at every look, gesture, +and word that filled his soul with joy. + +When on saying good-by he took her thin, slender hand, he could +not help holding it a little longer in his own. + +"Is it possible that this hand, that face, those eyes, all this +treasure of feminine charm so strange to me now, is it possible that +it will one day be mine forever, as familiar to me as I am to +myself?... No, that's impossible!..." + +"Good-by, Count," she said aloud. "I shall look forward very much to +your return," she added in a whisper. + +And these simple words, her look, and the expression on her face +which accompanied them, formed for two months the subject of +inexhaustible memories, interpretations, and happy meditations for +Pierre. "'I shall look forward very much to your return....' Yes, yes, +how did she say it? Yes, 'I shall look forward very much to your +return.' Oh, how happy I am! What is happening to me? How happy I am!" +said Pierre to himself. + +CHAPTER XIX + +There was nothing in Pierre's soul now at all like what had troubled +it during his courtship of Helene. + +He did not repeat to himself with a sickening feeling of shame the +words he had spoken, or say: "Oh, why did I not say that?" and, +"Whatever made me say 'Je vous aime'?" On the contrary, he now +repeated in imagination every word that he or Natasha had spoken and +pictured every detail of her face and smile, and did not wish to +diminish or add anything, but only to repeat it again and again. There +was now not a shadow of doubt in his mind as to whether what he had +undertaken was right or wrong. Only one terrible doubt sometimes +crossed his mind: "Wasn't it all a dream? Isn't Princess Mary +mistaken? Am I not too conceited and self-confident? I believe all +this- and suddenly Princess Mary will tell her, and she will be sure +to smile and say: 'How strange! He must be deluding himself. Doesn't +he know that he is a man, just a man, while I...? I am something +altogether different and higher.'" + +That was the only doubt often troubling Pierre. He did not now +make any plans. The happiness before him appeared so inconceivable +that if only he could attain it, it would be the end of all things. +Everything ended with that. + +A joyful, unexpected frenzy, of which he had thought himself +incapable, possessed him. The whole meaning of life- not for him alone +but for the whole world- seemed to him centered in his love and the +possibility of being loved by her. At times everybody seemed to him to +be occupied with one thing only- his future happiness. Sometimes it +seemed to him that other people were all as pleased as he was +himself and merely tried to hide that pleasure by pretending to be +busy with other interests. In every word and gesture he saw +allusions to his happiness. He often surprised those he met by his +significantly happy looks and smiles which seemed to express a +secret understanding between him and them. And when he realized that +people might not be aware of his happiness, he pitied them with his +whole heart and felt a desire somehow to explain to them that all that +occupied them was a mere frivolous trifle unworthy of attention. + +When it was suggested to him that he should enter the civil service, +or when the war or any general political affairs were discussed on the +assumption that everybody's welfare depended on this or that issue +of events, he would listen with a mild and pitying smile and +surprise people by his strange comments. But at this time he saw +everybody- both those who, as he imagined, understood the real meaning +of life (that is, what he was feeling) and those unfortunates who +evidently did not understand it- in the bright light of the emotion +that shone within himself, and at once without any effort saw in +everyone he met everything that was good and worthy of being loved. + +When dealing with the affairs and papers of his dead wife, her +memory aroused in him no feeling but pity that she had not known the +bliss he now knew. Prince Vasili, who having obtained a new post and +some fresh decorations was particularly proud at this time, seemed +to him a pathetic, kindly old man much to be pitied. + +Often in afterlife Pierre recalled this period of blissful insanity. +All the views he formed of men and circumstances at this time remained +true for him always. He not only did not renounce them subsequently, +but when he was in doubt or inwardly at variance, he referred to the +views he had held at this time of his madness and they always proved +correct. + +"I may have appeared strange and queer then," he thought, "but I was +not so mad as I seemed. On the contrary I was then wiser and had +more insight than at any other time, and understood all that is +worth understanding in life, because... because I was happy." + +Pierre's insanity consisted in not waiting, as he used to do, to +discover personal attributes which he termed "good qualities" in +people before loving them; his heart was now overflowing with love, +and by loving people without cause he discovered indubitable causes +for loving them. + +CHAPTER XX + +After Pierre's departure that first evening, when Natasha had said +to Princess Mary with a gaily mocking smile: "He looks just, yes, just +as if he had come out of a Russian bath- in a short coat and with +his hair cropped," something hidden and unknown to herself, but +irrepressible, awoke in Natasha's soul. + +Everything: her face, walk, look, and voice, was suddenly altered. +To her own surprise a power of life and hope of happiness rose to +the surface and demanded satisfaction. From that evening she seemed to +have forgotten all that had happened to her. She no longer +complained of her position, did not say a word about the past, and +no longer feared to make happy plans for the future. She spoke +little of Pierre, but when Princess Mary mentioned him a +long-extinguished light once more kindled in her eyes and her lips +curved with a strange smile. + +The change that took place in Natasha at first surprised Princess +Mary; but when she understood its meaning it grieved her. "Can she +have loved my brother so little as to be able to forget him so +soon?" she thought when she reflected on the change. But when she +was with Natasha she was not vexed with her and did not reproach +her. The reawakened power of life that had seized Natasha was so +evidently irrepressible and unexpected by her that in her presence +Princess Mary felt that she had no right to reproach her even in her +heart. + +Natasha gave herself up so fully and frankly to this new feeling +that she did not try to hide the fact that she was no longer sad, +but bright and cheerful. + +When Princess Mary returned to her room after her nocturnal talk +with Pierre, Natasha met her on the threshold. + +"He has spoken? Yes? He has spoken?" she repeated. + +And a joyful yet pathetic expression which seemed to beg forgiveness +for her joy settled on Natasha's face. + +"I wanted to listen at the door, but I knew you would tell me." + +Understandable and touching as the look with which Natasha gazed +at her seemed to Princess Mary, and sorry as she was to see her +agitation, these words pained her for a moment. She remembered her +brother and his love. + +"But what's to be done? She can't help it," thought the princess. + +And with a sad and rather stern look she told Natasha all that +Pierre had said. On hearing that he was going to Petersburg Natasha +was astounded. + +"To Petersburg!" she repeated as if unable to understand. + +But noticing the grieved expression on Princess Mary's face she +guessed the reason of that sadness and suddenly began to cry. + +"Mary," said she, "tell me what I should do! I am afraid of being +bad. Whatever you tell me, I will do. Tell me...." + +"You love him?" + +"Yes," whispered Natasha. + +"Then why are you crying? I am happy for your sake," said Princess +Mary, who because of those tears quite forgave Natasha's joy. + +"It won't be just yet- someday. Think what fun it will be when I +am his wife and you marry Nicholas!" + +"Natasha, I have asked you not to speak of that. Let us talk about +you." + +They were silent awhile. + +"But why go to Petersburg?" Natasha suddenly asked, and hastily +replied to her own question. "But no, no, he must... Yes, Mary, He +must...." + +FIRST EPILOGUE: 1813 - 20 + +CHAPTER I + +Seven years had passed. The storm-tossed sea of European history had +subsided within its shores and seemed to have become calm. But the +mysterious forces that move humanity (mysterious because the laws of +their motion are unknown to us) continued to operate. + +Though the surface of the sea of history seemed motionless, the +movement of humanity went on as unceasingly as the flow of time. +Various groups of people formed and dissolved, the coming formation +and dissolution of kingdoms and displacement of peoples was in +course of preparation. + +The sea of history was not driven spasmodically from shore to +shore as previously. It was seething in its depths. Historic figures +were not borne by the waves from one shore to another as before. +They now seemed to rotate on one spot. The historical figures at the +head of armies, who formerly reflected the movement of the masses by +ordering wars, campaigns, and battles, now reflected the restless +movement by political and diplomatic combinations, laws, and treaties. + +The historians call this activity of the historical figures "the +reaction." + +In dealing with this period they sternly condemn the historical +personages who, in their opinion, caused what they describe as the +reaction. All the well-known people of that period, from Alexander and +Napoleon to Madame de Stael, Photius, Schelling, Fichte, +Chateaubriand, and the rest, pass before their stern judgment seat and +are acquitted or condemned according to whether they conduced to +progress or to reaction. + +According to their accounts a reaction took place at that time in +Russia also, and the chief culprit was Alexander I, the same man who +according to them was the chief cause of the liberal movement at the +commencement of his reign, being the savior of Russia. + +There is no one in Russian literature now, from schoolboy essayist +to learned historian, who does not throw his little stone at Alexander +for things he did wrong at this period of his reign. + +"He ought to have acted in this way and in that way. In this case he +did well and in that case badly. He behaved admirably at the beginning +of his reign and during 1812, but acted badly by giving a constitution +to Poland, forming the Holy Alliance, entrusting power to Arakcheev, +favoring Golitsyn and mysticism, and afterwards Shishkov and +Photius. He also acted badly by concerning himself with the active +army and disbanding the Semenov regiment." + +It would take a dozen pages to enumerate all the reproaches the +historians address to him, based on their knowledge of what is good +for humanity. + +What do these reproaches mean? + +Do not the very actions for which the historians praise Alexander +I (the liberal attempts at the beginning of his reign, his struggle +with Napoleon, the firmness he displayed in 1812 and the campaign of +1813) flow from the same sources- the circumstances of his birth, +education, and life- that made his personality what it was and from +which the actions for which they blame him (the Holy Alliance, the +restoration of Poland, and the reaction of 1820 and later) also +flowed? + +In what does the substance of those reproaches lie? + +It lies in the fact that an historic character like Alexander I, +standing on the highest possible pinnacle of human power with the +blinding light of history focused upon him; a character exposed to +those strongest of all influences: the intrigues, flattery, and +self-deception inseparable from power; a character who at every moment +of his life felt a responsibility for all that was happening in +Europe; and not a fictitious but a live character who like every man +had his personal habits, passions, and impulses toward goodness, +beauty, and truth- that this character- though not lacking in virtue +(the historians do not accuse him of that)- had not the same +conception of the welfare of humanity fifty years ago as a present-day +professor who from his youth upwards has been occupied with +learning: that is, with books and lectures and with taking notes +from them. + +But even if we assume that fifty years ago Alexander I was +mistaken in his view of what was good for the people, we must +inevitably assume that the historian who judges Alexander will also +after the lapse of some time turn out to be mistaken in his view of +what is good for humanity. This assumption is all the more natural and +inevitable because, watching the movement of history, we see that +every year and with each new writer, opinion as to what is good for +mankind changes; so that what once seemed good, ten years later +seems bad, and vice versa. And what is more, we find at one and the +same time quite contradictory views as to what is bad and what is good +in history: some people regard giving a constitution to Poland and +forming the Holy Alliance as praiseworthy in Alexander, while others +regard it as blameworthy. + +The activity of Alexander or of Napoleon cannot be called useful +or harmful, for it is impossible to say for what it was useful or +harmful. If that activity displeases somebody, this is only because it +does not agree with his limited understanding of what is good. Whether +the preservation of my father's house in Moscow, or the glory of the +Russian arms, or the prosperity of the Petersburg and other +universities, or the freedom of Poland or the greatness of Russia, +or the balance of power in Europe, or a certain kind of European +culture called "progress" appear to me to be good or bad, I must admit +that besides these things the action of every historic character has +other more general purposes inaccessible to me. + +But let us assume that what is called science can harmonize all +contradictions and possesses an unchanging standard of good and bad by +which to try historic characters and events; let us say that Alexander +could have done everything differently; let us say that with +guidance from those who blame him and who profess to know the ultimate +aim of the movement of humanity, he might have arranged matters +according to the program his present accusers would have given him- of +nationality, freedom, equality, and progress (these, I think, cover +the ground). Let us assume that this program was possible and had then +been formulated, and that Alexander had acted on it. What would then +have become of the activity of all those who opposed the tendency that +then prevailed in the government- an activity that in the opinion of +the historians was good and beneficent? Their activity would not +have existed: there would have been no life, there would have been +nothing. + +If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, the +possibility of life is destroyed. + +CHAPTER II + +If we assume as the historians do that great men lead humanity to +the attainment of certain ends- the greatness of Russia or of +France, the balance of power in Europe, the diffusion of the ideas +of the Revolution general progress or anything else- then it is +impossible to explain the facts of history without introducing the +conceptions of chance and genius. + +If the aim of the European wars at the beginning of the nineteenth +century had been the aggrandizement of Russia, that aim might have +been accomplished without all the preceding wars and without the +invasion. If the aim wag the aggrandizement of France, that might have +been attained without the Revolution and without the Empire. If the +aim was the dissemination of ideas, the printing press could have +accomplished that much better than warfare. If the aim was the +progress of civilization, it is easy to see that there are other +ways of diffusing civilization more expedient than by the +destruction of wealth and of human lives. + +Why did it happen in this and not in some other way? + +Because it happened so! "Chance created the situation; genius +utilized it," says history. + +But what is chance? What is genius? + +The words chance and genius do not denote any really existing +thing and therefore cannot be defined. Those words only denote a +certain stage of understanding of phenomena. I do not know why a +certain event occurs; I think that I cannot know it; so I do not try +to know it and I talk about chance. I see a force producing effects +beyond the scope of ordinary human agencies; I do not understand why +this occurs and I talk of genius. + +To a herd of rams, the ram the herdsman drives each evening into a +special enclosure to feed and that becomes twice as fat as the +others must seem to be a genius. And it must appear an astonishing +conjunction of genius with a whole series of extraordinary chances +that this ram, who instead of getting into the general fold every +evening goes into a special enclosure where there are oats- that +this very ram, swelling with fat, is killed for meat. + +But the rams need only cease to suppose that all that happens to +them happens solely for the attainment of their sheepish aims; they +need only admit that what happens to them may also have purposes +beyond their ken, and they will at once perceive a unity and coherence +in what happened to the ram that was fattened. Even if they do not +know for what purpose they are fattened, they will at least know +that all that happened to the ram did not happen accidentally, and +will no longer need the conceptions of chance or genius. + +Only by renouncing our claim to discern a purpose immediately +intelligible to us, and admitting the ultimate purpose to be beyond +our ken, may we discern the sequence of experiences in the lives of +historic characters and perceive the cause of the effect they +produce (incommensurable with ordinary human capabilities), and then +the words chance and genius become superfluous. + +We need only confess that we do not know the purpose of the European +convulsions and that we know only the facts- that is, the murders, +first in France, then in Italy, in Africa, in Prussia, in Austria, +in Spain, and in Russia- and that the movements from the west to the +east and from the east to the west form the essence and purpose of +these events, and not only shall we have no need to see exceptional +ability and genius in Napoleon and Alexander, but we shall be unable +to consider them to be anything but like other men, and we shall not +be obliged to have recourse to chance for an explanation of those +small events which made these people what they were, but it will be +clear that all those small events were inevitable. + +By discarding a claim to knowledge of the ultimate purpose, we shall +clearly perceive that just as one cannot imagine a blossom or seed for +any single plant better suited to it than those it produces, so it +is impossible to imagine any two people more completely adapted down +to the smallest detail for the purpose they had to fulfill, than +Napoleon and Alexander with all their antecedents. + +CHAPTER III + +The fundamental and essential significance of the European events of +the beginning of the nineteenth century lies in the movement of the +mass of the European peoples from west to east and afterwards from +east to west. The commencement of that movement was the movement +from west to east. For the peoples of the west to be able to make +their warlike movement to Moscow it was necessary: (1) that they +should form themselves into a military group of a size able to +endure a collision with the warlike military group of the east, (2) +that they should abandon all established traditions and customs, and +(3) that during their military movement they should have at their head +a man who could justify to himself and to them the deceptions, +robberies, and murders which would have to be committed during that +movement. + +And beginning with the French Revolution the old inadequately +large group was destroyed, as well as the old habits and traditions, +and step by step a group was formed of larger dimensions with new +customs and traditions, and a man was produced who would stand at +the head of the coming movement and bear the responsibility for all +that had to be done. + +A man without convictions, without habits, without traditions, +without a name, and not even a Frenchman, emerges- by what seem the +strangest chances- from among all the seething French parties, and +without joining any one of them is borne forward to a prominent +position. + +The ignorance of his colleagues, the weakness and insignificance +of his opponents, the frankness of his falsehoods, and the dazzling +and self-confident limitations of this man raise him to the head of +the army. The brilliant qualities of the soldiers of the army sent +to Italy, his opponents' reluctance to fight, and his own childish +audacity and self-confidence secure him military fame. Innumerable +so called chances accompany him everywhere. The disfavor into which he +falls with the rulers of France turns to his advantage. His attempts +to avoid his predestined path are unsuccessful: he is not received +into the Russian service, and the appointment he seeks in Turkey comes +to nothing. During the war in Italy he is several times on the verge +of destruction and each time is saved in an unexpected manner. Owing +to various diplomatic considerations the Russian armies- just those +which might have destroyed his prestige- do not appear upon the +scene till he is no longer there. + +On his return from Italy he finds the government in Paris in a +process of dissolution in which all those who are in it are inevitably +wiped out and destroyed. And by chance an escape from this dangerous +position presents itself in the form of an aimless and senseless +expedition to Africa. Again so-called chance accompanies him. +Impregnable Malta surrenders without a shot; his most reckless schemes +are crowned with success. The enemy's fleet, which subsequently did +not let a single boat pass, allows his entire army to elude it. In +Africa a whole series of outrages are committed against the almost +unarmed inhabitants. And the men who commit these crimes, especially +their leader, assure themselves that this is admirable, this is glory- +it resembles Caesar and Alexander the Great and is therefore good. + +This ideal of glory and grandeur- which consists not merely in +considering nothing wrong that one does but in priding oneself on +every crime one commits, ascribing to it an incomprehensible +supernatural significance- that ideal, destined to guide this man +and his associates, had scope for its development in Africa. +Whatever he does succeeds. The plague does not touch him. The +cruelty of murdering prisoners is not imputed to him as a fault. His +childishly rash, uncalled-for, and ignoble departure from Africa, +leaving his comrades in distress, is set down to his credit, and again +the enemy's fleet twice lets him slip past. When, intoxicated by the +crimes he has committed so successfully, he reaches Paris, the +dissolution of the republican government, which a year earlier might +have ruined him, has reached its extreme limit, and his presence there +now as a newcomer free from party entanglements can only serve to +exalt him- and though he himself has no plan, he is quite ready for +his new role. + +He had no plan, he was afraid of everything, but the parties +snatched at him and demanded his participation. + +He alone- with his ideal of glory and grandeur developed in Italy +and Egypt, his insane self-adulation, his boldness in crime and +frankness in lying- he alone could justify what had to be done. + +He is needed for the place that awaits him, and so almost apart from +his will and despite his indecision, his lack of a plan, and all his +mistakes, he is drawn into a conspiracy that aims at seizing power and +the conspiracy is crowned with success. + +He is pushed into a meeting of the legislature. In alarm he wishes +to flee, considering himself lost. He pretends to fall into a swoon +and says senseless things that should have ruined him. But the once +proud and shrewd rulers of France, feeling that their part is played +out, are even more bewildered than he, and do not say the words they +should have said to destroy him and retain their power. + +Chance, millions of chances, give him power, and all men as if by +agreement co-operate to confirm that power. Chance forms the +characters of the rulers of France, who submit to him; chance forms +the character of Paul I of Russia who recognizes his government; +chance contrives a plot against him which not only fails to harm him +but confirms his power. Chance puts the Duc d'Enghien in his hands and +unexpectedly causes him to kill him- thereby convincing the mob more +forcibly than in any other way that he had the right, since he had the +might. Chance contrives that though he directs all his efforts to +prepare an expedition against England (which would inevitably have +ruined him) he never carries out that intention, but unexpectedly +falls upon Mack and the Austrians, who surrender without a battle. +Chance and genius give him the victory at Austerlitz; and by chance +all men, not only the French but all Europe- except England which does +not take part in the events about to happen- despite their former +horror and detestation of his crimes, now recognize his authority, the +title he has given himself, and his ideal of grandeur and glory, which +seems excellent and reasonable to them all. + +As if measuring themselves and preparing for the coming movement, +the western forces push toward the east several times in 1805, 1806, +1807, and 1809, gaining strength and growing. In 1811 the group of +people that had formed in France unites into one group with the +peoples of Central Europe. The strength of the justification of the +man who stands at the head of the movement grows with the increased +size of the group. During the ten-year preparatory period this man had +formed relations with all the crowned heads of Europe. The discredited +rulers of the world can oppose no reasonable ideal to the insensate +Napoleonic ideal of glory and grandeur. One after another they +hasten to display their insignificance before him. The King of Prussia +sends his wife to seek the great man's mercy; the Emperor of Austria +considers it a favor that this man receives a daughter the Caesars +into his bed; the Pope, the guardian of all that the nations hold +sacred, utilizes religion for the aggrandizement of the great man. +It is not Napoleon who prepares himself for the accomplishment of +his role, so much as all those round him who prepare him to take on +himself the whole responsibility for what is happening and has to +happen. There is no step, no crime or petty fraud he commits, which in +the mouths of those around him is not at once represented as a great +deed. The most suitable fete the Germans can devise for him is a +celebration of Jena and Auerstadt. Not only is he great, but so are +his ancestors, his brothers, his stepsons, and his brothers-in-law. +Everything is done to deprive him of the remains of his reason and +to prepare him for his terrible part. And when he is ready so too +are the forces. + +The invasion pushes eastward and reaches its final goal- Moscow. +That city is taken; the Russian army suffers heavier losses than the +opposing armies had suffered in the former war from Austerlitz to +Wagram. But suddenly instead of those chances and that genius which +hitherto had so consistently led him by an uninterrupted series of +successes to the predestined goal, an innumerable sequence of +inverse chances occur- from the cold in his head at Borodino to the +sparks which set Moscow on fire, and the frosts- and instead of +genius, stupidity and immeasurable baseness become evident. + +The invaders flee, turn back, flee again, and all the chances are +now not for Napoleon but always against him. + +A countermovement is then accomplished from east to west with a +remarkable resemblance to the preceding movement from west to east. +Attempted drives from east to west- similar to the contrary +movements of 1805, 1807, and 1809- precede the great westward +movement; there is the same coalescence into a group of enormous +dimensions; the same adhesion of the people of Central Europe to the +movement; the same hesitation midway, and the same increasing rapidity +as the goal is approached. + +Paris, the ultimate goal, is reached. The Napoleonic government +and army are destroyed. Napoleon himself is no longer of any +account; all his actions are evidently pitiful and mean, but again +an inexplicable chance occurs. The allies detest Napoleon whom they +regard as the cause of their sufferings. Deprived of power and +authority, his crimes and his craft exposed, he should have appeared +to them what he appeared ten years previously and one year later- an +outlawed brigand. But by some strange chance no one perceives this. +His part is not yet ended. The man who ten years before and a year +later was considered an outlawed brigand is sent to an island two +days' sail from France, which for some reason is presented to him as +his dominion, and guards are given to him and millions of money are +paid him. + +CHAPTER IV + +The flood of nations begins to subside into its normal channels. The +waves of the great movement abate, and on the calm surface eddies +are formed in which float the diplomatists, who imagine that they have +caused the floods to abate. + +But the smooth sea again suddenly becomes disturbed. The +diplomatists think that their disagreements are the cause of this +fresh pressure of natural forces; they anticipate war between their +sovereigns; the position seems to them insoluble. But the wave they +feel to be rising does not come from the quarter they expect. It rises +again from the same point as before- Paris. The last backwash of the +movement from the west occurs: a backwash which serves to solve the +apparently insuperable diplomatic difficulties and ends the military +movement of that period of history. + +The man who had devastated France returns to France alone, without +any conspiracy and without soldiers. Any guard might arrest him, but +by strange chance no one does so and all rapturously greet the man +they cursed the day before and will curse again a month later. + +This man is still needed to justify the final collective act. + +That act is performed. + +The last role is played. The actor is bidden to disrobe and wash off +his powder and paint: he will not be wanted any more. + +And some years pass during which he plays a pitiful comedy to +himself in solitude on his island, justifying his actions by intrigues +and lies when the justification is no longer needed, and displaying to +the whole world what it was that people had mistaken for strength as +long as an unseen hand directed his actions. + +The manager having brought the drama to a close and stripped the +actor shows him to us. + +"See what you believed in! This is he! Do you now see that it was +not he but I who moved you?" + +But dazed by the force of the movement, it was long before people +understood this. + +Still greater coherence and inevitability is seen in the life of +Alexander I, the man who stood at the head of the countermovement from +east to west. + +What was needed for him who, overshadowing others, stood at the head +of that movement from east to west? + +What was needed was a sense of justice and a sympathy with +European affairs, but a remote sympathy not dulled by petty interests; +a moral superiority over those sovereigns of the day who co-operated +with him; a mild and attractive personality; and a personal +grievance against Napoleon. And all this was found in Alexander I; all +this had been prepared by innumerable so-called chances in his life: +his education, his early liberalism, the advisers who surrounded +him, and by Austerlitz, and Tilsit, and Erfurt. + +During the national war he was inactive because he was not needed. +But as soon as the necessity for a general European war presented +itself he appeared in his place at the given moment and, uniting the +nations of Europe, led them to the goal. + +The goal is reached. After the final war of 1815 Alexander possesses +all possible power. How does he use it? + +Alexander I- the pacifier of Europe, the man who from his early +years had striven only for his people's welfare, the originator of the +liberal innovations in his fatherland- now that he seemed to possess +the utmost power and therefore to have the possibility of bringing +about the welfare of his peoples- at the time when Napoleon in exile +was drawing up childish and mendacious plans of how he would have made +mankind happy had he retained power- Alexander I, having fulfilled his +mission and feeling the hand of God upon him, suddenly recognizes +the insignificance of that supposed power, turns away from it, and +gives it into the hands of contemptible men whom he despises, saying +only: + +"Not unto us, not unto us, but unto Thy Name!... I too am a man like +the rest of you. Let me live like a man and think of my soul and of +God." + +As the sun and each atom of ether is a sphere complete in itself, +and yet at the same time only a part of a whole too immense for man to +comprehend, so each individual has within himself his own aims and yet +has them to serve a general purpose incomprehensible to man. + +A bee settling on a flower has stung a child. And the child is +afraid of bees and declares that bees exist to sting people. A poet +admires the bee sucking from the chalice of a flower and says it +exists to suck the fragrance of flowers. A beekeeper, seeing the bee +collect pollen from flowers and carry it to the hive, says that it +exists to gather honey. Another beekeeper who has studied the life +of the hive more closely says that the bee gathers pollen dust to feed +the young bees and rear a queen, and that it exists to perpetuate +its race. A botanist notices that the bee flying with the pollen of +a male flower to a pistil fertilizes the latter, and sees in this +the purpose of the bee's existence. Another, observing the migration +of plants, notices that the bee helps in this work, and may say that +in this lies the purpose of the bee. But the ultimate purpose of the +bee is not exhausted by the first, the second, or any of the processes +the human mind can discern. The higher the human intellect rises in +the discovery of these purposes, the more obvious it becomes, that the +ultimate purpose is beyond our comprehension. + +All that is accessible to man is the relation of the life of the bee +to other manifestations of life. And so it is with the purpose of +historic characters and nations. + +CHAPTER V + +Natasha's wedding to Bezukhov, which took place in 1813, was the +last happy event in the family of the old Rostovs. Count Ilya Rostov +died that same year and, as always happens, after the father's death +the family group broke up. + +The events of the previous year: the burning of Moscow and the +flight from it, the death of Prince Andrew, Natasha's despair, Petya's +death, and the old countess' grief fell blow after blow on the old +count's head. He seemed to be unable to understand the meaning of +all these events, and bowed his old head in a spiritual sense as if +expecting and inviting further blows which would finish him. He seemed +now frightened and distraught and now unnaturally animated and +enterprising. + +The arrangements for Natasha's marriage occupied him for a while. He +ordered dinners and suppers and obviously tried to appear cheerful, +but his cheerfulness was not infectious as it used to be: on the +contrary it evoked the compassion of those who knew and liked him. + +When Pierre and his wife had left, he grew very quiet and began to +complain of depression. A few days later he fell ill and took to his +bed. He realized from the first that he would not get up again, +despite the doctor's encouragement. The countess passed a fortnight in +an armchair by his pillow without undressing. Every time she gave +him his medicine he sobbed and silently kissed her hand. On his last +day, sobbing, he asked her and his absent son to forgive him for +having dissipated their property- that being the chief fault of +which he was conscious. After receiving communion and unction he +quietly died; and next day a throng of acquaintances who came to pay +their last respects to the deceased filled the house rented by the +Rostovs. All these acquaintances, who had so often dined and danced at +his house and had so often laughed at him, now said, with a common +feeling of self-reproach and emotion, as if justifying themselves: +"Well, whatever he may have been he was a most worthy man. You don't +meet such men nowadays.... And which of us has not weaknesses of his +own?" + +It was just when the count's affairs had become so involved that +it was impossible to say what would happen if he lived another year +that he unexpectedly died. + +Nicholas was with the Russian army in Paris when the news of his +father's death reached him. He at once resigned his commission, and +without waiting for it to be accepted took leave of absence and went +to Moscow. The state of the count's affairs became quite obvious a +month after his death, surprising everyone by the immense total of +small debts the existence of which no one had suspected. The debts +amounted to double the value of the property. + +Friends and relations advised Nicholas to decline the inheritance. +But he regarded such a refusal as a slur on his father's memory, which +he held sacred, and therefore would not hear of refusing and +accepted the inheritance together with the obligation to pay the +debts. + +The creditors who had so long been silent, restrained by a vague but +powerful influence exerted on them while he lived by the count's +careless good nature, all proceeded to enforce their claims at once. +As always happens in such cases rivalry sprang up as to which should +get paid first, and those who like Mitenka held promissory notes given +them as presents now became the most exacting of the creditors. +Nicholas was allowed no respite and no peace, and those who had seemed +to pity the old man- the cause of their losses (if they were +losses)- now remorselessly pursued the young heir who had +voluntarily undertaken the debts and was obviously not guilty of +contracting them. + +Not one of the plans Nicholas tried succeeded; the estate was sold +by auction for half its value, and half the debts still remained +unpaid. Nicholas accepted thirty thousand rubles offered him by his +brother-in-law Bezukhov to pay off debts he regarded as genuinely +due for value received. And to avoid being imprisoned for the +remainder, as the creditors threatened, he re-entered the government +service. + +He could not rejoin the army where he would have been made colonel +at the next vacancy, for his mother now clung to him as her one hold +on life; and so despite his reluctant to remain in Moscow among people +who had known him before, and despite his abhorrence of the civil +service, he accepted a post in Moscow in that service, doffed the +uniform of which he was so fond, and moved with his mother and Sonya +to a small house on the Sivtsev Vrazhek. + +Natasha and Pierre were living in Petersburg at the time and had +no clear idea of Nicholas' circumstances. Having borrowed money from +his brother-in-law, Nicholas tried to hide his wretched condition from +him. His position was the more difficult because with his salary of +twelve hundred rubles he had not only to keep himself, his mother, and +Sonya, but had to shield his mother from knowledge of their poverty. +The countess could not conceive of life without the luxurious +conditions she had been used to from childhood and, unable to +realize how hard it was for her son, kept demanding now a carriage +(which they did not keep) to send for a friend, now some expensive +article of food for herself, or wine for her son, or money to buy a +present as a surprise for Natasha or Sonya, or for Nicholas himself. + +Sonya kept house, attended on her aunt, read to her, put up with her +whims and secret ill-will, and helped Nicholas to conceal their +poverty from the old countess. Nicholas felt himself irredeemably +indebted to Sonya for all she was doing for his mother and greatly +admired her patience and devotion, but tried to keep aloof from her. + +He seemed in his heart to reproach her for being too perfect, and +because there was nothing to reproach her with. She had all that +people are valued for, but little that could have made him love her. +He felt that the more he valued her the less he loved her. He had +taken her at her word when she wrote giving him his freedom and now +behaved as if all that had passed between them had been long forgotten +and could never in any case be renewed. + +Nicholas' position became worse and worse. The idea of putting +something aside out of his salary proved a dream. Not only did he +not save anything, but to comply with his mother's demands he even +incurred some small debts. He could see no way out of this +situation. The idea of marrying some rich woman, which was suggested +to him by his female relations, was repugnant to him. The other way +out- his mother's death- never entered his head. He wished for nothing +and hoped for nothing, and deep in his heart experienced a gloomy +and stern satisfaction in an uncomplaining endurance of his +position. He tried to avoid his old acquaintances with their +commiseration and offensive offers of assistance; he avoided all +distraction and recreation, and even at home did nothing but play +cards with his mother, pace silently up and down the room, and smoke +one pipe after another. He seemed carefully to cherish within +himself the gloomy mood which alone enabled him to endure his +position. + +CHAPTER VI + +At the beginning of winter Princess Mary came to Moscow. From +reports current in town she learned how the Rostovs were situated, and +how "the son has sacrificed himself for his mother," as people were +saying. + +"I never expected anything else of him," said Princess Mary to +herself, feeling a joyous sense of her love for him. Remembering her +friendly relations with all the Rostovs which had made her almost a +member of the family, she thought it her duty to go to see them. But +remembering her relations with Nicholas in Voronezh she was shy +about doing so. Making a great effort she did however go to call on +them a few weeks after her arrival in Moscow. + +Nicholas was the first to meet her, as the countess' room could only +be reached through his. But instead of being greeted with pleasure +as she had expected, at his first glance at her his face assumed a +cold, stiff, proud expression she had not seen on it before. He +inquired about her health, led the way to his mother, and having sat +there for five minutes left the room. + +When the princess came out of the countess' room Nicholas met her +again, and with marked solemnity and stiffness accompanied her to +the anteroom. To her remarks about his mother's health he made no +reply. "What's that to you? Leave me in peace," his looks seemed to +say. + +"Why does she come prowling here? What does she want? I can't bear +these ladies and all these civilities!" said he aloud in Sonya's +presence, evidently unable to repress his vexation, after the +princess' carriage had disappeared. + +"Oh, Nicholas, how can you talk like that?" cried Sonya, hardly able +to conceal her delight. "She is so kind and Mamma is so fond of her!" + +Nicholas did not reply and tried to avoid speaking of the princess +any more. But after her visit the old countess spoke of her several +times a day. + +She sang her praises, insisted that her son must call on her, +expressed a wish to see her often, but yet always became ill-humored +when she began to talk about her. + +Nicholas tried to keep silence when his mother spoke of the +princess, but his silence irritated her. + +"She is a very admirable and excellent young woman," said she, +"and you must go and call on her. You would at least be seeing +somebody, and I think it must be dull for you only seeing us." + +"But I don't in the least want to, Mamma." + +"You used to want to, and now you don't. Really I don't understand +you, my dear. One day you are dull, and the next you refuse to see +anyone." + +"But I never said I was dull." + +"Why, you said yourself you don't want even to see her. She is a +very admirable young woman and you always liked her, but now +suddenly you have got some notion or other in your head. You hide +everything from me." + +"Not at all, Mamma." + +"If I were asking you to do something disagreeable now- but I only +ask you to return a call. One would think mere politeness required +it.... Well, I have asked you, and now I won't interfere any more +since you have secrets from your mother." + +"Well, then, I'll go if you wish it." + +"It doesn't matter to me. I only wish it for your sake." + +Nicholas sighed, bit his mustache, and laid out the cards for a +patience, trying to divert his mother's attention to another topic. + +The same conversation was repeated next day and the day after, and +the day after that. + +After her visit to the Rostovs and her unexpectedly chilly reception +by Nicholas, Princess Mary confessed to herself that she had been +right in not wishing to be the first to call. + +"I expected nothing else," she told herself, calling her pride to +her aid. "I have nothing to do with him and I only wanted to see the +old lady, who was always kind to me and to whom I am under many +obligations." + +But she could not pacify herself with these reflections; a feeling +akin to remorse troubled her when she thought of her visit. Though she +had firmly resolved not to call on the Rostovs again and to forget the +whole matter, she felt herself all the time in an awkward position. +And when she asked herself what distressed her, she had to admit +that it was her relation to Rostov. His cold, polite manner did not +express his feeling for her (she knew that) but it concealed +something, and until she could discover what that something was, she +felt that she could not be at ease. + +One day in midwinter when sitting in the schoolroom attending to her +nephew's lessons, she was informed that Rostov had called. With a firm +resolution not to betray herself and not show her agitation, she +sent for Mademoiselle Bourienne and went with her to the drawing room. + +Her first glance at Nicholas' face told her that he had only come to +fulfill the demands of politeness, and she firmly resolved to maintain +the tone in which he addressed her. + +They spoke of the countess' health, of their mutual friends, of +the latest war news, and when the ten minutes required by propriety +had elapsed after which a visitor may rise, Nicholas got up to say +good-by. + +With Mademoiselle Bourienne's help the princess had maintained the +conversation very well, but at the very last moment, just when he +rose, she was so tired of talking of what did not interest her, and +her mind was so full of the question why she alone was granted so +little happiness in life, that in a fit of absent-mindedness she sat +still, her luminous eyes gazing fixedly before her, not noticing +that he had risen. + +Nicholas glanced at her and, wishing to appear not to notice her +abstraction, made some remark to Mademoiselle Bourienne and then again +looked at the princess. She still sat motionless with a look of +suffering on her gentle face. He suddenly felt sorry for her and was +vaguely conscious that he might be the cause of the sadness her face +expressed. He wished to help her and say something pleasant, but could +think of nothing to say. + +"Good-by, Princess!" said he. + +She started, flushed, and sighed deeply. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon," she said as if waking up. "Are you going +already, Count? Well then, good-by! Oh, but the cushion for the +countess!" + +"Wait a moment, I'll fetch it," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, and she +left the room. + +They both sat silent, with an occasional glance at one another. + +"Yes, Princess," said Nicholas at last with a sad smile, "it doesn't +seem long ago since we first met at Bogucharovo, but how much water +has flowed since then! In what distress we all seemed to be then, +yet I would give much to bring back that time... but there's no +bringing it back." + +Princess Mary gazed intently into his eyes with her own luminous +ones as he said this. She seemed to be trying to fathom the hidden +meaning of his words which would explain his feeling for her. + +"Yes, yes," said she, "but you have no reason to regret the past, +Count. As I understand your present life, I think you will always +recall it with satisfaction, because the self-sacrifice that fills +it now..." + +"I cannot accept your praise," he interrupted her hurriedly. "On the +contrary I continually reproach myself.... But this is not at all an +interesting or cheerful subject." + +His face again resumed its former stiff and cold expression. But the +princess had caught a glimpse of the man she had known and loved, +and it was to him that she now spoke. + +"I thought you would allow me to tell you this," she said. "I had +come so near to you... and to all your family that I thought you would +not consider my sympathy misplaced, but I was mistaken," and +suddenly her voice trembled. "I don't know why," she continued, +recovering herself, "but you used to be different, and..." + +"There are a thousand reasons why," laying special emphasis on the +why. "Thank you, Princess," he added softly. "Sometimes it is hard." + +"So that's why! That's why!" a voice whispered in Princess Mary's +soul. "No, it was not only that gay, kind, and frank look, not only +that handsome exterior, that I loved in him. I divined his noble, +resolute, self-sacrificing spirit too," she said to herself. "Yes, +he is poor now and I am rich.... Yes, that's the only reason.... +Yes, were it not for that..." And remembering his former tenderness, +and looking now at his kind, sorrowful face, she suddenly understood +the cause of his coldness. + +"But why, Count, why?" she almost cried, unconsciously moving closer +to him. "Why? Tell me. You must tell me!" + +He was silent. + +"I don't understand your why, Count," she continued, "but it's +hard for me... I confess it. For some reason you wish to deprive me of +our former friendship. And that hurts me." There were tears in her +eyes and in her voice. "I have had so little happiness in life that +every loss is hard for me to bear.... Excuse me, good-by!" and +suddenly she began to cry and was hurrying from the room. + +"Princess, for God's sake!" he exclaimed, trying to stop her. +"Princess!" + +She turned round. For a few seconds they gazed silently into one +another's eyes- and what had seemed impossible and remote suddenly +became possible, inevitable, and very near. + +CHAPTER VII + +In the winter of 1813 Nicholas married Princess Mary and moved to +Bald Hills with his wife, his mother, and Sonya. + +Within four years he had paid off all his remaining debts without +selling any of his wife's property, and having received a small +inheritance on the death of a cousin he paid his debt to Pierre as +well. + +In another three years, by 1820, he had so managed his affairs +that he was able to buy a small estate adjoining Bald Hills and was +negotiating to buy back Otradnoe- that being his pet dream. + +Having started farming from necessity, he soon grew so devoted to it +that it became his favorite and almost his sole occupation. Nicholas +was a plain farmer: he did not like innovations, especially the +English ones then coming into vogue. He laughed at theoretical +treatises on estate management, disliked factories, the raising of +expensive products, and the buying of expensive seed corn, and did not +make a hobby of any particular part of the work on his estate. He +always had before his mind's eye the estate as a whole and not any +particular part of it. The chief thing in his eyes was not the +nitrogen in the soil, nor the oxygen in the air, nor manures, nor +special plows, but that most important agent by which nitrogen, +oxygen, manure, and plow were made effective- the peasant laborer. +When Nicholas first began farming and began to understand its +different branches, it was the serf who especially attracted his +attention. The peasant seemed to him not merely a tool, but also a +judge of farming and an end in himself. At first he watched the serfs, +trying to understand their aims and what they considered good and bad, +and only pretended to direct them and give orders while in reality +learning from them their methods, their manner of speech, and their +judgment of what was good and bad. Only when he had understood the +peasants' tastes and aspirations, had learned to talk their +language, to grasp the hidden meaning of their words, and felt akin to +them did he begin boldly to manage his serfs, that is, to perform +toward them the duties demanded of him. And Nicholas' management +produced very brilliant results. + +Guided by some gift of insight, on taking up the management of the +estates he at once unerringly appointed as bailiff, village elder, and +delegate, the very men the serfs would themselves have chosen had they +had the right to choose, and these posts never changed hands. Before +analyzing the properties of manure, before entering into the debit and +credit (as he ironically called it), he found out how many cattle +the peasants had and increased the number by all possible means. He +kept the peasant families together in the largest groups possible, not +allowing the family groups to divide into separate households. He +was hard alike on the lazy, the depraved, and the weak, and tried to +get them expelled from the commune. + +He was as careful of the sowing and reaping of the peasants' hay and +corn as of his own, and few landowners had their crops sown and +harvested so early and so well, or got so good a return, as did +Nicholas. + +He disliked having anything to do with the domestic serfs- the +"drones" as he called them- and everyone said he spoiled them by his +laxity. When a decision had to be taken regarding a domestic serf, +especially if one had to be punished, he always felt undecided and +consulted everybody in the house; but when it was possible to have a +domestic serf conscripted instead of a land worker he did so without +the least hesitation. He never felt any hesitation in dealing with the +peasants. He knew that his every decision would be approved by them +all with very few exceptions. + +He did not allow himself either to be hard on or punish a man, or to +make things easy for or reward anyone, merely because he felt inclined +to do so. He could not have said by what standard he judged what he +should or should not do, but the standard was quite firm and +definite in his own mind. + +Often, speaking with vexation of some failure or irregularity, he +would say: "What can one do with our Russian peasants?" and imagined +that he could not bear them. + +Yet he loved "our Russian peasants" and their way of life with his +whole soul, and for that very reason had understood and assimilated +the one way and manner of farming which produced good results. + +Countess Mary was jealous of this passion of her husband's and +regretted that she could not share it; but she could not understand +the joys and vexations he derived from that world, to her so remote +and alien. She could not understand why he was so particularly +animated and happy when, after getting up at daybreak and spending the +whole morning in the fields or on the threshing floor, he returned +from the sowing or mowing or reaping to have tea with her. She did not +understand why he spoke with such admiration and delight of the +farming of the thrifty and well-to-do peasant Matthew Ermishin, who +with his family had carted corn all night; or of the fact that his +(Nicholas') sheaves were already stacked before anyone else had his +harvest in. She did not understand why he stepped out from the +window to the veranda and smiled under his mustache and winked so +joyfully, when warm steady rain began to fall on the dry and thirsty +shoots of the young oats, or why when the wind carried away a +threatening cloud during the hay harvest he would return from the +barn, flushed, sunburned, and perspiring, with a smell of wormwood and +gentian in his hair and, gleefully rubbing his hands, would say: +"Well, one more day and my grain and the peasants' will all be under +cover." + +Still less did she understand why he, kindhearted and always ready +to anticipate her wishes, should become almost desperate when she +brought him a petition from some peasant men or women who had appealed +to her to be excused some work; why he, that kind Nicholas, should +obstinately refuse her, angrily asking her not to interfere in what +was not her business. She felt he had a world apart, which he loved +passionately and which had laws she had not fathomed. + +Sometimes when, trying to understand him, she spoke of the good work +he was doing for his serfs, he would be vexed and reply: "Not in the +least; it never entered my head and I wouldn't do that for their good! +That's all poetry and old wives' talk- all that doing good to one's +neighbor! What I want is that our children should not have to go +begging. I must put our affairs in order while I am alive, that's all. +And to do that, order and strictness are essential.... That's all +about it!" said he, clenching his vigorous fist. "And fairness, of +course," he added, "for if the peasant is naked and hungry and has +only one miserable horse, he can do no good either for himself or +for me." + +And all Nicholas did was fruitful- probably just because he +refused to allow himself to think that he was doing good to others for +virtue's sake. His means increased rapidly; serfs from neighboring +estates came to beg him to buy them, and long after his death the +memory of his administration was devoutly preserved among the serfs. +"He was a master... the peasants' affairs first and then his own. Of +course he was not to be trifled with either- in a word, he was a +real master!" + +CHAPTER VIII + +One matter connected with his management sometimes worried Nicholas, +and that was his quick temper together with his old hussar habit of +making free use of his fists. At first he saw nothing reprehensible in +this, but in the second year of his marriage his view of that form +of punishment suddenly changed. + +Once in summer he had sent for the village elder from Bogucharovo, a +man who had succeeded to the post when Dron died and who was accused +of dishonesty and various irregularities. Nicholas went out into the +porch to question him, and immediately after the elder had given a few +replies the sound of cries and blows were heard. On returning to lunch +Nicholas went up to his wife, who sat with her head bent low over +her embroidery frame, and as usual began to tell her what he had +been doing that morning. Among other things he spoke of the +Bogucharovo elder. Countess Mary turned red and then pale, but +continued to sit with head bowed and lips compressed and gave her +husband no reply. + +"Such an insolent scoundrel!" he cried, growing hot again at the +mere recollection of him. "If he had told me he was drunk and did +not see... But what is the matter with you, Mary?" he suddenly asked. + +Countess Mary raised her head and tried to speak, but hastily looked +down again and her lips puckered. + +"Why, whatever is the matter, my dearest?" + +The looks of the plain Countess Mary always improved when she was in +tears. She never cried from pain or vexation, but always from sorrow +or pity, and when she wept her radiant eyes acquired an irresistible +charm. + +The moment Nicholas took her hand she could no longer restrain +herself and began to cry. + +"Nicholas, I saw it... he was to blame, but why do you... Nicholas!" +and she covered her face with her hands. + +Nicholas said nothing. He flushed crimson, left her side, and +paced up and down the room. He understood what she was weeping +about, but could not in his heart at once agree with her that what +he had regarded from childhood as quite an everyday event was wrong. +"Is it just sentimentality, old wives' tales, or is she right?" he +asked himself. Before he had solved that point he glanced again at her +face filled with love and pain, and he suddenly realized that she +was right and that he had long been sinning against himself. + +"Mary," he said softly, going up to her, "it will never happen +again; I give you my word. Never," he repeated in a trembling voice +like a boy asking for forgiveness. + +The tears flowed faster still from the countess' eyes. She took +his hand and kissed it. + +"Nicholas, when when did you break your cameo?" she asked to +change the subject, looking at his finger on which he wore a ring with +a cameo of Laocoon's head. + +"Today- it was the same affair. Oh, Mary, don't remind me of it!" +and again he flushed. "I give you my word of honor it shan't occur +again, and let this always be a reminder to me," and he pointed to the +broken ring. + +After that, when in discussions with his village elders or +stewards the blood rushed to his face and his fists began to clench, +Nicholas would turn the broken ring on his finger and would drop his +eyes before the man who was making him angry. But he did forget +himself once or twice within a twelvemonth, and then he would go and +confess to his wife, and would again promise that this should really +be the very last time. + +"Mary, you must despise me!" he would say. "I deserve it." + +"You should go, go away at once, if you don't feel strong enough +to control yourself," she would reply sadly, trying to comfort her +husband. + +Among the gentry of the province Nicholas was respected but not +liked. He did not concern himself with the interests of his own class, +and consequently some thought him proud and others thought him stupid. +The whole summer, from spring sowing to harvest, he was busy with +the work on his farm. In autumn he gave himself up to hunting with the +same business like seriousness- leaving home for a month, or even two, +with his hunt. In winter he visited his other villages or spent his +time reading. The books he read were chiefly historical, and on +these he spent a certain sum every year. He was collecting, as he +said, a serious library, and he made it a rule to read through all the +books he bought. He would sit in his study with a grave air, +reading- a task he first imposed upon himself as a duty, but which +afterwards became a habit affording him a special kind of pleasure and +a consciousness of being occupied with serious matters. In winter, +except for business excursions, he spent most of his time at home +making himself one with his family and entering into all the details +of his children's relations with their mother. The harmony between him +and his wife grew closer and closer and he daily discovered fresh +spiritual treasures in her. + +From the time of his marriage Sonya had lived in his house. Before +that, Nicholas had told his wife all that had passed between himself +and Sonya, blaming himself and commending her. He had asked Princess +Mary to be gentle and kind to his cousin. She thoroughly realized +the wrong he had done Sonya, felt herself to blame toward her, and +imagined that her wealth had influenced Nicholas' choice. She could +not find fault with Sonya in any way and tried to be fond of her, +but often felt ill-will toward her which she could not overcome. + +Once she had a talk with her friend Natasha about Sonya and about +her own injustice toward her. + +"You know," said Natasha, "you have read the Gospels a great deal- +there is a passage in them that just fits Sonya." + +"What?" asked Countess Mary, surprised. + +"'To him that hath shall be given, and from him that hath not +shall be taken away.' You remember? She is one that hath not; why, I +don't know. Perhaps she lacks egotism, I don't know, but from her is +taken away, and everything has been taken away. Sometimes I am +dreadfully sorry for her. Formerly I very much wanted Nicholas to +marry her, but I always had a sort of presentiment that it would not +come off. She is a sterile flower, you know- like some strawberry +blossoms. Sometimes I am sorry for her, and sometimes I think she +doesn't feel it as you or I would." + +Though Countess Mary told Natasha that those words in the Gospel +must be understood differently, yet looking at Sonya she agreed with +Natasha's explanation. It really seemed that Sonya did not feel her +position trying, and had grown quite reconciled to her lot as a +sterile flower. She seemed to be fond not so much of individuals as of +the family as a whole. Like a cat, she had attached herself not to the +people but to the home. She waited on the old countess, petted and +spoiled the children, was always ready to render the small services +for which she had a gift, and all this was unconsciously accepted from +her with insufficient gratitude. + +The country seat at Bald Hills had been rebuilt, though not on the +same scale as under the old prince. + +The buildings, begun under straitened circumstances, were more +than simple. The immense house on the old stone foundations was of +wood, plastered only inside. It had bare deal floors and was furnished +with very simple hard sofas, armchairs, tables, and chairs made by +their own serf carpenters out of their own birchwood. The house was +spacious and had rooms for the house serfs and apartments for +visitors. Whole families of the Rostovs' and Bolkonskis' relations +sometimes came to Bald Hills with sixteen horses and dozens of +servants and stayed for months. Besides that, four times a year, on +the name days and birthdays of the hosts, as many as a hundred +visitors would gather there for a day or two. The rest of the year +life pursued its unbroken routine with its ordinary occupations, and +its breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and suppers, provided out of the +produce of the estate. + +CHAPTER IX + +It was the eve of St. Nicholas, the fifth of December, 1820. Natasha +had been staying at her brother's with her husband and children +since early autumn. Pierre had gone to Petersburg on business of his +own for three weeks as he said, but had remained there nearly seven +weeks and was expected back every minute. + +Besides the Bezukhov family, Nicholas' old friend the retired +General Vasili Dmitrich Denisov was staying with the Rostovs this +fifth of December. + +On the sixth, which was his name day when the house would be full of +visitors, Nicholas knew he would have to exchange his Tartar tunic for +a tail coat, and put on narrow boots with pointed toes, and drive to +the new church he had built, and then receive visitors who would +come to congratulate him, offer them refreshments, and talk about +the elections of the nobility; but he considered himself entitled to +spend the eve of that day in his usual way. He examined the +bailiff's accounts of the village in Ryazan which belonged to his +wife's nephew, wrote two business letters, and walked over to the +granaries, cattle yards and stables before dinner. Having taken +precautions against the general drunkenness to be expected on the +morrow because it was a great saint's day, he returned to dinner, +and without having time for a private talk with his wife sat down at +the long table laid for twenty persons, at which the whole household +had assembled. At that table were his mother, his mother's old lady +companion Belova, his wife, their three children with their +governess and tutor, his wife's nephew with his tutor, Sonya, Denisov, +Natasha, her three children, their governess, and old Michael +Ivanovich, the late prince's architect, who was living on in +retirement at Bald Hills. + +Countess Mary sat at the other end of the table. When her husband +took his place she concluded, from the rapid manner in which after +taking up his table napkin he pushed back the tumbler and wineglass +standing before him, that he was out of humor, as was sometimes the +case when he came in to dinner straight from the farm- especially +before the soup. Countess Mary well knew that mood of his, and when +she herself was in a good frame of mind quietly waited till he had had +his soup and then began to talk to him and make him admit that there +was no cause for his ill-humor. But today she quite forgot that and +was hurt that he should be angry with her without any reason, and +she felt unhappy. She asked him where he had been. He replied. She +again inquired whether everything was going well on the farm. Her +unnatural tone made him wince unpleasantly and he replied hastily. + +"Then I'm not mistaken," thought Countess Mary. "Why is he cross +with me?" She concluded from his tone that he was vexed with her and +wished to end the conversation. She knew her remarks sounded +unnatural, but could not refrain from asking some more questions. + +Thanks to Denisov the conversation at table soon became general +and lively, and she did not talk to her husband. When they left the +table and went as usual to thank the old countess, Countess Mary +held out her hand and kissed her husband, and asked him why he was +angry with her. + +"You always have such strange fancies! I didn't even think of +being angry," he replied. + +But the word always seemed to her to imply: "Yes, I am angry but I +won't tell you why." + +Nicholas and his wife lived together so happily that even Sonya +and the old countess, who felt jealous and would have liked them to +disagree, could find nothing to reproach them with; but even they +had their moments of antagonism. Occasionally, and it was always +just after they had been happiest together, they suddenly had a +feeling of estrangement and hostility, which occurred most +frequently during Countess Mary's pregnancies, and this was such a +time. + +"Well, messieurs et mesdames," said Nicholas loudly and with +apparent cheerfulness (it seemed to Countess Mary that he did it on +purpose to vex her), "I have been on my feet since six this morning. +Tomorrow I shall have to suffer, so today I'll go and rest." + +And without a word to his wife he went to the little sitting room +and lay down on the sofa. + +"That's always the way," thought Countess Mary. "He talks to +everyone except me. I see... I see that I am repulsive to him, +especially when I am in this condition." She looked down at her +expanded figure and in the glass at her pale, sallow, emaciated face +in which her eyes now looked larger than ever. + +And everything annoyed her- Denisov's shouting and laughter, +Natasha's talk, and especially a quick glance Sonya gave her. + +Sonya was always the first excuse Countess Mary found for feeling +irritated. + +Having sat awhile with her visitors without understanding anything +of what they were saying, she softly left the room and went to the +nursery. + +The children were playing at "going to Moscow" in a carriage made of +chairs and invited her to go with them. She sat down and played with +them a little, but the thought of her husband and his unreasonable +crossness worried her. She got up and, walking on tiptoe with +difficulty, went to the small sitting room. + +"Perhaps he is not asleep; I'll have an explanation with him," she +said to herself. Little Andrew, her eldest boy, imitating his +mother, followed her on tiptoe. She not notice him. + +"Mary, dear, I think he is asleep- he was so tired," said Sonya, +meeting her in the large sitting room (it seemed to Countess Mary that +she crossed her path everywhere). "Andrew may wake him." + +Countess Mary looked round, saw little Andrew following her, felt +that Sonya was right, and for that very reason flushed and with +evident difficulty refrained from saying something harsh. She made +no reply, but to avoid obeying Sonya beckoned to Andrew to follow +her quietly and went to the door. Sonya went away by another door. +From the room in which Nicholas was sleeping came the sound of his +even breathing, every slightest tone of which was familiar to his +wife. As she listened to it she saw before her his smooth handsome +forehead, his mustache, and his whole face, as she had so often seen +it in the stillness of the night when he slept. Nicholas suddenly +moved and cleared his throat. And at that moment little Andrew shouted +from outside the door: "Papa! Mamma's standing here!" Countess Mary +turned pale with fright and made signs to the boy. He grew silent, and +quiet ensued for a moment, terrible to Countess Mary. She knew how +Nicholas disliked being waked. Then through the door she heard +Nicholas clearing his throat again and stirring, and his voice said +crossly: + +"I can't get a moment's peace.... Mary, is that you? Why did you +bring him here?" + +"I only came in to look and did not notice... forgive me..." + +Nicholas coughed and said no more. Countess Mary moved away from the +door and took the boy back to the nursery. Five minutes later little +black-eyed three-year-old Natasha, her father's pet, having learned +from her brother that Papa was asleep and Mamma was in the sitting +room, ran to her father unobserved by her mother. The dark-eyed little +girl boldly opened the creaking door, went up to the sofa with +energetic steps of her sturdy little legs, and having examined the +position of her father, who was asleep with his back to her, rose on +tiptoe and kissed the hand which lay under his head. Nicholas turned +with a tender smile on his face. + +"Natasha, Natasha!" came Countess Mary's frightened whisper from the +door. "Papa wants to sleep." + +"No, Mamma, he doesn't want to sleep," said little Natasha with +conviction. "He's laughing." + +Nicholas lowered his legs, rose, and took his daughter in his arms. + +"Come in, Mary," he said to his wife. + +She went in and sat down by her husband. + +"I did not notice him following me," she said timidly. "I just +looked in." + +Holding his little girl with one arm, Nicholas glanced at his wife +and, seeing her guilty expression, put his other arm around her and +kissed her hair. + +"May I kiss Mamma?" he asked Natasha. + +Natasha smiled bashfully. + +"Again!" she commanded, pointing with a peremptory gesture to the +spot where Nicholas had placed the kiss. + +"I don't know why you think I am cross," said Nicholas, replying +to the question he knew was in his wife's mind. + +"You have no idea how unhappy, how lonely, I feel when you are +like that. It always seems to me... " + +"Mary, don't talk nonsense. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" he +said gaily. + +"It seems to be that you can't love me, that I am so plain... +always... and now... in this cond..." + +"Oh, how absurd you are! It is not beauty that endears, it's love +that makes us see beauty. It is only Malvinas and women of that kind +who are loved for their beauty. But do I love my wife? I don't love +her, but... I don't know how to put it. Without you, or when something +comes between us like this, I seem lost and can't do anything. Now +do I love my finger? I don't love it, but just try to cut it off! + +"I'm not like that myself, but I understand. So you're not angry +with me?" + +"Awfully angry!" he said, smiling and getting up. And smoothing +his hair he began to pace the room. + +"Do you know, Mary, what I've been thinking?" he began, +immediately thinking aloud in his wife's presence now that they had +made it up. + +He did not ask if she was ready to listen to him. He did not care. A +thought had occurred to him and so it belonged to her also. And he +told her of his intention to persuade Pierre to stay with them till +spring. + +Countess Mary listened till he had finished, made some remark, and +in her turn began thinking aloud. Her thoughts were about the +children. + +"You can see the woman in her already," she said in French, pointing +to little Natasha. "You reproach us women with being illogical. Here +is our logic. I say: 'Papa wants to sleep!' but she says, 'No, he's +laughing.' And she was right," said Countess Mary with a happy smile. + +"Yes, yes." And Nicholas, taking his little daughter in his strong +hand, lifted her high, placed her on his shoulder, held her by the +legs, and paced the room with her. There was an expression of carefree +happiness on the faces of both father and daughter. + +"But you know you may be unfair. You are too fond of this one," +his wife whispered in French. + +"Yes, but what am I to do?... I try not to show..." + +At that moment they heard the sound of the door pulley and footsteps +in the hall and anteroom, as if someone had arrived. + +"Somebody has come." + +"I am sure it is Pierre. I will go and see," said Countess Mary +and left the room. + +In her absence Nicholas allowed himself to give his little +daughter a gallop round the room. Out of breath, he took the +laughing child quickly from his shoulder and pressed her to his heart. +His capers reminded him of dancing, and looking at the child's round +happy little face he thought of what she would be like when he was +an old man, taking her into society and dancing the mazurka with her +as his old father had danced Daniel Cooper with his daughter. + +"It is he, it is he, Nicholas!" said Countess Mary, re-entering +the room a few minutes later. "Now our Natasha has come to life. You +should have seen her ecstasy, and how he caught it for having stayed +away so long. Well, come along now, quick, quick! It's time you two +were parted," she added, looking smilingly at the little girl who +clung to her father. + +Nicholas went out holding the child by the hand. + +Countess Mary remained in the sitting room. + +"I should never, never have believed that one could be so happy," +she whispered to herself. A smile lit up her face but at the same time +she sighed, and her deep eyes expressed a quiet sadness as though +she felt, through her happiness, that there is another sort of +happiness unattainable in this life and of which she involuntarily +thought at that instant. + +CHAPTER X + +Natasha had married in the early spring of 1813, and in 1820 already +had three daughters besides a son for whom she had longed and whom she +was now nursing. She had grown stouter and broader, so that it was +difficult to recognize in this robust, motherly woman the slim, lively +Natasha of former days. Her features were more defined and had a calm, +soft, and serene expression. In her face there was none of the +ever-glowing animation that had formerly burned there and +constituted its charm. Now her face and body were of all that one saw, +and her soul was not visible at all. All that struck the eye was a +strong, handsome, and fertile woman. The old fire very rarely +kindled in her face now. That happened only when, as was the case that +day, her husband returned home, or a sick child was convalescent, or +when she and Countess Mary spoke of Prince Andrew (she never mentioned +him to her husband, who she imagined was jealous of Prince Andrew's +memory), or on the rare occasions when something happened to induce +her to sing, a practice she had quite abandoned since her marriage. At +the rare moments when the old fire did kindle in her handsome, fully +developed body she was even more attractive than in former days. + +Since their marriage Natasha and her husband had lived in Moscow, in +Petersburg, on their estate near Moscow, or with her mother, that is +to say, in Nicholas' house. The young Countess Bezukhova was not often +seen in society, and those who met her there were not pleased with her +and found her neither attractive nor amiable. Not that Natasha liked +solitude- she did not know whether she liked it or not, she even +thought that she did not- but with her pregnancies, her +confinements, the nursing of her children, and sharing every moment of +her husband's life, she had demands on her time which could be +satisfied only by renouncing society. All who had known Natasha before +her marriage wondered at the change in her as at something +extraordinary. Only the old countess with her maternal instinct had +realized that all Natasha's outbursts had been due to her need of +children and a husband- as she herself had once exclaimed at +Otradnoe not so much in fun as in earnest- and her mother was now +surprised at the surprise expressed by those who had never +understood Natasha, and she kept saying that she had always known that +Natasha would make an exemplary wife and mother. + +"Only she lets her love of her husband and children overflow all +bounds," said the countess, "so that it even becomes absurd." + +Natasha did not follow the golden rule advocated by clever folk, +especially by the French, which says that a girl should not let +herself go when she marries, should not neglect her accomplishments, +should be even more careful of her appearance than when she was +unmarried, and should fascinate her husband as much as she did +before he became her husband. Natasha on the contrary had at once +abandoned all her witchery, of which her singing had been an unusually +powerful part. She gave it up just because it was so powerfully +seductive. She took no pains with her manners or with of speech, or +with her toilet, or to show herself to her husband in her most +becoming attitudes, or to avoid inconveniencing him by being too +exacting. She acted in contradiction to all those rules. She felt that +the allurements instinct had formerly taught her to use would now be +merely ridiculous in the eyes of her husband, to whom she had from the +first moment given herself up entirely- that is, with her whole +soul, leaving no corner of it hidden from him. She felt that her unity +with her husband was not maintained by the poetic feelings that had +attracted him to her, but by something else- indefinite but firm as +the bond between her own body and soul. + +To fluff out her curls, put on fashionable dresses, and sing +romantic songs to fascinate her husband would have seemed as strange +as to adorn herself to attract herself. To adorn herself for others +might perhaps have been agreeable- she did not know- but she had no +time at all for it. The chief reason for devoting no time either to +singing, to dress, or to choosing her words was that she really had no +time to spare for these things. + +We know that man has the faculty of becoming completely absorbed +in a subject however trivial it may be, and that there is no subject +so trivial that it will not grow to infinite proportions if one's +entire attention is devoted to it. + +The subject which wholly engrossed Natasha's attention was her +family: that is, her husband whom she had to keep so that he should +belong entirely to her and to the home, and the children whom she +had to bear, bring into the world, nurse, and bring up. + +And the deeper she penetrated, not with her mind only but with her +whole soul, her whole being, into the subject that absorbed her, the +larger did that subject grow and the weaker and more inadequate did +her powers appear, so that she concentrated them wholly on that one +thing and yet was unable to accomplish all that she considered +necessary. + +There were then as now conversations and discussions about women's +rights, the relations of husband and wife and their freedom and +rights, though these themes were not yet termed questions as they +are now; but these topics were not merely uninteresting to Natasha, +she positively did not understand them. + +These questions, then as now, existed only for those who see nothing +in marriage but the pleasure married people get from one another, that +is, only the beginnings of marriage and not its whole significance, +which lies in the family. + +Discussions and questions of that kind, which are like the +question of how to get the greatest gratification from one's dinner, +did not then and do not now exist for those for whom the purpose of +a dinner is the nourishment it affords; and the purpose of marriage is +the family. + +If the purpose of dinner is to nourish the body, a man who eats +two dinners at once may perhaps get more enjoyment but will not attain +his purpose, for his stomach will not digest the two dinners. + +If the purpose of marriage is the family, the person who wishes to +have many wives or husbands may perhaps obtain much pleasure, but in +that case will not have a family. + +If the purpose of food is nourishment and the purpose of marriage is +the family, the whole question resolves itself into not eating more +than one can digest, and not having more wives or husbands than are +needed for the family- that is, one wife or one husband. Natasha +needed a husband. A husband was given her and he gave her a family. +And she not only saw no need of any other or better husband, but as +all the powers of her soul were intent on serving that husband and +family, she could not imagine and saw no interest in imagining how +it would be if things were different. + +Natasha did not care for society in general, but prized the more the +society of her relatives- Countess Mary, and her brother, her +mother, and Sonya. She valued the company of those to whom she could +come striding disheveled from the nursery in her dressing gown, and +with joyful face show a yellow instead of a green stain on baby's +napkin, and from whom she could hear reassuring words to the effect +that baby was much better. + +To such an extent had Natasha let herself go that the way she +dressed and did her hair, her ill-chosen words, and her jealousy- +she was jealous of Sonya, of the governess, and of every woman, pretty +or plain- were habitual subjects of jest to those about her. The +general opinion was that Pierre was under his wife's thumb, which +was really true. From the very first days of their married life +Natasha had announced her demands. Pierre was greatly surprised by his +wife's view, to him a perfectly novel one, that every moment of his +life belonged to her and to the family. His wife's demands +astonished him, but they also flattered him, and he submitted to them. + +Pierre's subjection consisted in the fact that he not only dared not +flirt with, but dared not even speak smilingly to, any other woman; +did not dare dine at the Club as a pastime, did not dare spend money a +whim, and did not dare absent himself for any length of time, except +on business- in which his wife included his intellectual pursuits, +which she did not in the least understand but to which she +attributed great importance. To make up for this, at home Pierre had +the right to regulate his life and that of the whole family exactly as +he chose. At home Natasha placed herself in the position of a slave to +her husband, and the whole household went on tiptoe when he was +occupied- that is, was reading or writing in his study. Pierre had but +to show a partiality for anything to get just what he liked done +always. He had only to express a wish and Natasha would jump up and +run to fulfill it. + +The entire household was governed according to Pierre's supposed +orders, that is, by his wishes which Natasha tried to guess. Their way +of life and place of residence, their acquaintances and ties, +Natasha's occupations, the children's upbringing, were all selected +not merely with regard to Pierre's expressed wishes, but to what +Natasha from the thoughts he expressed in conversation supposed his +wishes to be. And she deduced the essentials of his wishes quite +correctly, and having once arrived at them clung to them +tenaciously. When Pierre himself wanted to change his mind she would +fight him with his own weapons. + +Thus in a time of trouble ever memorable to him after the birth of +their first child who was delicate, when they had to change the wet +nurse three times and Natasha fell ill from despair, Pierre one day +told her of Rousseau's view, with which he quite agreed, that to +have a wet nurse is unnatural and harmful. When her next baby was +born, despite the opposition of her mother, the doctors, and even of +her husband himself- who were all vigorously opposed to her nursing +her baby herself, a thing then unheard of and considered injurious- +she insisted on having her own way, and after that nursed all her +babies herself. + +It very often happened that in a moment of irritation husband and +wife would have a dispute, but long afterwards Pierre to his +surprise and delight would find in his wife's ideas and actions the +very thought against which she had argued, but divested of +everything superfluous that in the excitement of the dispute he had +added when expressing his opinion. + +After seven years of marriage Pierre had the joyous and firm +consciousness that he was not a bad man, and he felt this because he +saw himself reflected in his wife. He felt the good and bad within +himself inextricably mingled and overlapping. But only what was really +good in him was reflected in his wife, all that was not quite good was +rejected. And this was not the result of logical reasoning but was a +direct and mysterious reflection. + +CHAPTER XI + +Two months previously when Pierre was already staying with the +Rostovs he had received a letter from Prince Theodore, asking him to +come to Petersburg to confer on some important questions that were +being discussed there by a society of which Pierre was one of the +principal founders. + +On reading that letter (she always read her husband's letters) +Natasha herself suggested that he should go to Petersburg, though +she would feel his absence very acutely. She attributed immense +importance to all her husband's intellectual and abstract interests +though she did not understand them, and she always dreaded being a +hindrance to him in such matters. To Pierre's timid look of inquiry +after reading the letter she replied by asking him to go, but to fix a +definite date for his return. He was given four weeks' leave of +absence. + +Ever since that leave of absence had expired, more than a +fortnight before, Natasha had been in a constant state of alarm, +depression, and irritability. + +Denisov, now a general on the retired list and much dissatisfied +with the present state of affairs, had arrived during that +fortnight. He looked at Natasha with sorrow and surprise as at a bad +likeness of a person once dear. A dull, dejected look, random replies, +and talk about the nursery was all he saw and heard from his former +enchantress. + +Natasha was sad and irritable all that time, especially when her +mother, her brother, Sonya, or Countess Mary in their efforts to +console her tried to excuse Pierre and suggested reasons for his delay +in returning. + +"It's all nonsense, all rubbish- those discussions which lead to +nothing and all those idiotic societies!" Natasha declared of the very +affairs in the immense importance of which she firmly believed. + +And she would go to the nursery to nurse Petya, her only boy. No one +else could tell her anything so comforting or so reasonable as this +little three-month-old creature when he lay at her breast and she +was conscious of the movement of his lips and the snuffling of his +little nose. That creature said: "You are angry, you are jealous, +you would like to pay him out, you are afraid- but here am I! And I am +he..." and that was unanswerable. It was more than true. + +During that fortnight of anxiety Natasha resorted to the baby for +comfort so often, and fussed over him so much, that she overfed him +and he fell ill. She was terrified by his illness, and yet that was +just what she needed. While attending to him she bore the anxiety +about her husband more easily. + +She was nursing her boy when the sound of Pierre's sleigh was +heard at the front door, and the old nurse- knowing how to please +her mistress- entered the room inaudibly but hurriedly and with a +beaming face. + +"Has he come?" Natasha asked quickly in a whisper, afraid to move +lest she should rouse the dozing baby. + +"He's come, ma'am," whispered the nurse. + +The blood rushed to Natasha's face and her feet involuntarily moved, +but she could not jump up and run out. The baby again opened his +eyes and looked at her. "You're here?" he seemed to be saying, and +again lazily smacked his lips. + +Cautiously withdrawing her breast, Natasha rocked him a little, +handed him to the nurse, and went with rapid steps toward the door. +But at the door she stopped as if her conscience reproached her for +having in her joy left the child too soon, and she glanced round. +The nurse with raised elbows was lifting the infant over the rail of +his cot. + +"Go, ma'am! Don't worry, go!" she whispered, smiling, with the +kind of familiarity that grows up between a nurse and her mistress. + +Natasha ran with light footsteps to the anteroom. + +Denisov, who had come out of the study into the dancing room with +his pipe, now for the first time recognized the old Natasha. A flood +of brilliant, joyful light poured from her transfigured face. + +"He's come!" she exclaimed as she ran past, and Denisov felt that he +too was delighted that Pierre, whom he did not much care for, had +returned. + +On reaching the vestibule Natasha saw a tall figure in a fur coat +unwinding his scarf. "It's he! It's really he! He has come!" she +said to herself, and rushing at him embraced him, pressed his head +to her breast, and then pushed him back and gazed at his ruddy, +happy face, covered with hoarfrost. "Yes, it is he, happy and +contented..." + +Then all at once she remembered the tortures of suspense she had +experienced for the last fortnight, and the joy that had lit up her +face vanished; she frowned and overwhelmed Pierre with a torrent of +reproaches and angry words. + +"Yes, it's all very well for you. You are pleased, you've had a good +time.... But what about me? You might at least have shown +consideration for the children. I am nursing and my milk was +spoiled.... Petya was at death's door. But you were enjoying yourself. +Yes, enjoying..." + +Pierre knew he was not to blame, for he could not have come +sooner; he knew this outburst was unseemly and would blow over in a +minute or two; above all he knew that he himself was bright and happy. +He wanted to smile but dared not even think of doing so. He made a +piteous, frightened face and bent down. + +"I could not, on my honor. But how is Petya?" + +"All right now. Come along! I wonder you're not ashamed! If only you +could see what I was like without you, how I suffered!" + +"You are well?" + +"Come, come!" she said, not letting go of his arm. And they went +to their rooms. + +When Nicholas and his wife came to look for Pierre he was in the +nursery holding his baby son, who was again awake, on his huge right +palm and dandling him. A blissful bright smile was fixed on the baby's +broad face with its toothless open mouth. The storm was long since +over and there was bright, joyous sunshine on Natasha's face as she +gazed tenderly at her husband and child. + +"And have you talked everything well over with Prince Theodore?" she +asked. + +"Yes, capitally." + +"You see, he holds it up." (She meant the baby's head.) "But how +he did frighten me... You've seen the princess? Is it true she's in +love with that..." + +"Yes, just fancy..." + +At that moment Nicholas and Countess Mary came in. Pierre with the +baby on his hand stooped, kissed them, and replied to their inquiries. +But in spite of much that was interesting and had to be discussed, the +baby with the little cap on its unsteady head evidently absorbed all +his attention. + +"How sweet!" said Countess Mary, looking at and playing with the +baby. "Now, Nicholas," she added, turning to her husband, "I can't +understand how it is you don't see the charm of these delicious +marvels." + +"I don't and can't," replied Nicholas, looking coldly at the baby. +"A lump of flesh. Come along, Pierre!" + +"And yet he's such an affectionate father," said Countess Mary, +vindicating her husband, "but only after they are a year old or so..." + +"Now, Pierre nurses them splendidly," said Natasha. "He says his +hand is just made for a baby's seat. Just look!" + +"Only not for this..." Pierre suddenly exclaimed with a laugh, and +shifting the baby he gave him to the nurse. + +CHAPTER XII + +As in every large household, there were at Bald Hills several +perfectly distinct worlds which merged into one harmonious whole, +though each retained its own peculiarities and made concessions to the +others. Every event, joyful or sad, that took place in that house +was important to all these worlds, but each had its own special +reasons to rejoice or grieve over that occurrence independently of the +others. + +For instance, Pierre's return was a joyful and important event and +they all felt it to be so. + +The servants- the most reliable judges of their masters because they +judge not by their conversation or expressions of feeling but by their +acts and way of life- were glad of Pierre's return because they knew +that when he was there Count Nicholas would cease going every day +attend to the estate, and would would be in better spirits and temper, +and also because they would all receive handsome presents for the +holidays. + +The children and their governesses were glad of Pierre's return +because no one else drew them into the social life of the household as +he did. He alone could play on the clavichord that ecossaise (his only +piece) to which, as he said, all possible dances could be danced, +and they felt sure he had brought presents for them all. + +Young Nicholas, now a slim lad of fifteen, delicate and intelligent, +with curly light-brown hair and beautiful eyes, was delighted +because Uncle Pierre as he called him was the object of his +rapturous and passionate affection. No one had instilled into him this +love for Pierre whom he saw only occasionally. Countess Mary who had +brought him up had done her utmost to make him love her husband as she +loved him, and little Nicholas did love his uncle, but loved him +with just a shade of contempt. Pierre, however, he adored. He did +not want to be an hussar or a Knight of St. George like his uncle +Nicholas; he wanted to be learned, wise, and kind like Pierre. In +Pierre's presence his face always shone with pleasure and he flushed +and was breathless when Pierre spoke to him. He did not miss a +single word he uttered, and would afterwards, with Dessalles or by +himself, recall and reconsider the meaning of everything Pierre had +said. Pierre's past life and his unhappiness prior to 1812 (of which +young Nicholas had formed a vague poetic picture from some words he +had overheard), his adventures in Moscow, his captivity, Platon +Karataev (of whom he had heard from Pierre), his love for Natasha +(of whom the lad was also particularly fond), and especially +Pierre's friendship with the father whom Nicholas could not +remember- all this made Pierre in his eyes a hero and a saint. + +From broken remarks about Natasha and his father, from the emotion +with which Pierre spoke of that dead father, and from the careful, +reverent tenderness with which Natasha spoke of him, the boy, who +was only just beginning to guess what love is, derived the notion that +his father had loved Natasha and when dying had left her to his +friend. But the father whom the boy did not remember appeared to him a +divinity who could not be pictured, and of whom he never thought +without a swelling heart and tears of sadness and rapture. So the +boy also was happy that Pierre had arrived. + +The guests welcomed Pierre because he always helped to enliven and +unite any company he was in. + +The grown-up members of the family, not to mention his wife, were +pleased to have back a friend whose presence made life run more +smoothly and peacefully. + +The old ladies were pleased with the presents he brought them, and +especially that Natasha would now be herself again. + +Pierre felt the different outlooks of these various worlds and +made haste to satisfy all their expectations. + +Though the most absent-minded and forgetful of men, Pierre, with the +aid of a list his wife drew up, had now bought everything, not +forgetting his mother- and brother-in-law's commissions, nor the dress +material for a present to Belova, nor toys for his wife's nephews. +In the early days of his marriage it had seemed strange to him that +his wife should expect him not to forget to procure all the things +he undertook to buy, and he had been taken aback by her serious +annoyance when on his first trip he forgot everything. But in time +he grew used to this demand. Knowing that Natasha asked nothing for +herself, and gave him commissions for others only when he himself +had offered to undertake them, he now found an unexpected and +childlike pleasure in this purchase of presents for everyone in the +house, and never forgot anything. If he now incurred Natasha's censure +it was only for buying too many and too expensive things. To her other +defects (as most people thought them, but which to Pierre were +qualities) of untidiness and neglect of herself, she now added +stinginess. + +From the time that Pierre began life as a family man on a footing +entailing heavy expenditure, he had noticed to his surprise that he +spent only half as much as before, and that his affairs- which had +been in disorder of late, chiefly because of his first wife's debts- +had begun to improve. + +Life was cheaper because it was circumscribed: that most expensive +luxury, the kind of life that can be changed at any moment, was no +longer his nor did he wish for it. He felt that his way of life had +now been settled once for all till death and that to change it was not +in his power, and so that way of life proved economical. + +With a merry, smiling face Pierre was sorting his purchases. + +"What do you think of this?" said he, unrolling a piece of stuff +like a shopman. + +Natasha, who was sitting opposite to him with her eldest daughter on +her lap, turned her sparkling eyes swiftly from her husband to the +things he showed her. + +"That's for Belova? Excellent!" She felt the quality of the +material. "It was a ruble an arshin, I suppose?" + +Pierre told her the price. + +"Too dear!" Natasha remarked. "How pleased the children will be +and Mamma too! Only you need not have bought me this," she added, +unable to suppress a smile as she gazed admiringly at a gold comb +set with pearls, of a kind then just coming into fashion. + +"Adele tempted me: she kept on telling me to buy it," returned +Pierre. + +"When am I to wear it?" and Natasha stuck it in her coil of hair. +"When I take little Masha into society? Perhaps they will be +fashionable again by then. Well, let's go now." + +And collecting the presents they went first to the nursery and +then to the old countess' rooms. + +The countess was sitting with her companion Belova, playing +grand-patience as usual, when Pierre and Natasha came into the drawing +room with parcels under their arms. + +The countess was now over sixty, was quite gray, and wore a cap with +a frill that surrounded her face. Her face had shriveled, her upper +lip had sunk in, and her eyes were dim. + +After the deaths of her son and husband in such rapid succession, +she felt herself a being accidentally forgotten in this world and left +without aim or object for her existence. She ate, drank, slept, or +kept awake, but did not live. Life gave her no new impressions. She +wanted nothing from life but tranquillity, and that tranquillity +only death could give her. But until death came she had to go on +living, that is, to use her vital forces. A peculiarity one sees in +very young children and very old people was particularly evident in +her. Her life had no external aims- only a need to exercise her +various functions and inclinations was apparent. She had to eat, +sleep, think, speak, weep, work, give vent to her anger, and so on, +merely because she had a stomach, a brain, muscles, nerves, and a +liver. She did these things not under any external impulse as people +in the full vigor of life do, when behind the purpose for which they +strive that of exercising their functions remains unnoticed. She +talked only because she physically needed to exercise her tongue and +lungs. She cried as a child does, because her nose had to be +cleared, and so on. What for people in their full vigor is an aim +was for her evidently merely a pretext. + +Thus in the morning- especially if she had eaten anything rich the +day before- she felt a need of being angry and would choose as the +handiest pretext Belova's deafness. + +She would begin to say something to her in a low tone from the other +end of the room. + +"It seems a little warmer today, my dear," she would murmur. + +And when Belova replied: "Oh yes, they've come," she would mutter +angrily: "O Lord! How stupid and deaf she is!" + +Another pretext would be her snuff, which would seem too dry or +too damp or not rubbed fine enough. After these fits of irritability +her face would grow yellow, and her maids knew by infallible +symptoms when Belova would again be deaf, the snuff damp, and the +countess' face yellow. Just as she needed to work off her spleen so +she had sometimes to exercise her still-existing faculty of +thinking- and the pretext for that was a game of patience. When she +needed to cry, the deceased count would be the pretext. When she +wanted to be agitated, Nicholas and his health would be the pretext, +and when she felt a need to speak spitefully, the pretext would be +Countess Mary. When her vocal organs needed exercise, which was +usually toward seven o'clock when she had had an after-dinner rest +in a darkened room, the pretext would be the retelling of the same +stories over and over again to the same audience. + +The old lady's condition was understood by the whole household +though no one ever spoke of it, and they all made every possible +effort to satisfy her needs. Only by a rare glance exchanged with a +sad smile between Nicholas, Pierre, Natasha, and Countess Mary was the +common understanding of her condition expressed. + +But those glances expressed something more: they said that she had +played her part in life, that what they now saw was not her whole +self, that we must all become like her, and that they were glad to +yield to her, to restrain themselves for this once precious being +formerly as full of life as themselves, but now so much to be +pitied. "Memento mori," said these glances. + +Only the really heartless, the stupid ones of that household, and +the little children failed to understand this and avoided her. + +CHAPTER XIII + +When Pierre and his wife entered the drawing room the countess was +in one of her customary states in which she needed the mental exertion +of playing patience, and so- though by force of habit she greeted +him with the words she always used when Pierre or her son returned +after an absence: "High time, my dear, high time! We were all weary of +waiting for you. Well, thank God!" and received her presents with +another customary remark: "It's not the gift that's precious, my dear, +but that you give it to me, an old woman..."- yet it was evident +that she was not pleased by Pierre's arrival at that moment when it +diverted her attention from the unfinished game. + +She finished her game of patience and only then examined the +presents. They consisted of a box for cards, of splendid +workmanship, a bright-blue Sevres tea cup with shepherdesses +depicted on it and with a lid, and a gold snuffbox with the count's +portrait on the lid which Pierre had had done by a miniaturist in +Petersburg. The countess had long wished for such a box, but as she +did not want to cry just then she glanced indifferently at the +portrait and gave her attention chiefly to the box for cards. + +"Thank you, my dear, you have cheered me up," said she as she always +did. "But best of all you have brought yourself back- for I never +saw anything like it, you ought to give your wife a scolding! What are +we to do with her? She is like a mad woman when you are away. +Doesn't see anything, doesn't remember anything," she went on, +repeating her usual phrases. "Look, Anna Timofeevna," she added to her +companion, "see what a box for cards my son has brought us!" + +Belova admired the presents and was delighted with her dress +material. + +Though Pierre, Natasha, Nicholas, Countess Mary, and Denisov had +much to talk about that they could not discuss before the old +countess- not that anything was hidden from her, but because she had +dropped so far behindhand in many things that had they begun to +converse in her presence they would have had to answer inopportune +questions and to repeat what they had already told her many times: +that so-and-so was dead and so-and-so was married, which she would +again be unable to remember- yet they sat at tea round the samovar +in the drawing room from habit, and Pierre answered the countess' +questions as to whether Prince Vasili had aged and whether Countess +Mary Alexeevna had sent greetings and still thought of them, and other +matters that interested no one and to which she herself was +indifferent. + +Conversation of this kind, interesting to no one yet unavoidable, +continued all through teatime. All the grown-up members of the +family were assembled near the round tea table at which Sonya presided +beside the samovar. The children with their tutors and governesses had +had tea and their voices were audible from the next room. At tea all +sat in their accustomed places: Nicholas beside the stove at a small +table where his tea was handed to him; Milka, the old gray borzoi +bitch (daughter of the first Milka), with a quite gray face and +large black eyes that seemed more prominent than ever, lay on the +armchair beside him; Denisov, whose curly hair, mustache, and whiskers +had turned half gray, sat beside countess Mary with his general's +tunic unbuttoned; Pierre sat between his wife and the old countess. He +spoke of what he knew might interest the old lady and that she could +understand. He told her of external social events and of the people +who had formed the circle of her contemporaries and had once been a +real, living, and distinct group, but who were now for the most part +scattered about the world and like herself were garnering the last +ears of the harvests they had sown in earlier years. But to the old +countess those contemporaries of hers seemed to be the only serious +and real society. Natasha saw by Pierre's animation that his visit had +been interesting and that he had much to tell them but dare not say it +before the old countess. Denisov, not being a member of the family, +did not understand Pierre's caution and being, as a malcontent, much +interested in what was occurring in Petersburg, kept urging Pierre +to tell them about what had happened in the Semenovsk regiment, then +about Arakcheev, and then about the Bible Society. Once or twice +Pierre was carried away and began to speak of these things, but +Nicholas and Natasha always brought him back to the health of Prince +Ivan and Countess Mary Alexeevna. + +"Well, and all this idiocy- Gossner and Tatawinova?" Denisov +asked. "Is that weally still going on?" + +"Going on?" Pierre exclaimed. "Why more than ever! The Bible Society +is the whole government now!" + +"What is that, mon cher ami?" asked the countess, who had +finished her tea and evidently needed a pretext for being angry +after her meal. "What are you saying about the government? I don't +understand." + +"Well, you know, Maman," Nicholas interposed, knowing how to +translate things into his mother's language, "Prince Alexander +Golitsyn has founded a society and in consequence has great influence, +they say." + +"Arakcheev and Golitsyn," incautiously remarked Pierre, "are now the +whole government! And what a government! They see treason everywhere +and are afraid of everything." + +"Well, and how is Prince Alexander to blame? He is a most +estimable man. I used to meet him at Mary Antonovna's," said the +countess in an offended tone; and still more offended that they all +remained silent, she went on: "Nowadays everyone finds fault. A Gospel +Society! Well, and what harm is there in that?" and she rose +(everybody else got up too) and with a severe expression sailed back +to her table in the sitting room. + +The melancholy silence that followed was broken by the sounds of the +children's voices and laughter from the next room. Evidently some +jolly excitement was going on there. + +"Finished, finished!" little Natasha's gleeful yell rose above +them all. + +Pierre exchanged glances with Countess Mary and Nicholas (Natasha he +never lost sight of) and smiled happily. + +"That's delightful music!" said he. + +"It means that Anna Makarovna has finished her stocking," said +Countess Mary. + +"Oh, I'll go and see," said Pierre, jumping up. "You know," he +added, stopping at the door, "why I'm especially fond of that music? +It is always the first thing that tells me all is well. When I was +driving here today, the nearer I got to the house the more anxious I +grew. As I entered the anteroom I heard Andrusha's peals of laughter +and that meant that all was well." + +"I know! I know that feeling," said Nicholas. "But I mustn't go +there- those stockings are to be a surprise for me." + +Pierre went to the children, and the shouting and laughter grew +still louder. + +"Come, Anna Makarovna," Pierre's voice was heard saying, "come +here into the middle of the room and at the word of command, 'One, +two,' and when I say 'three'... You stand here, and you in my arms- +well now! One, two!..." said Pierre, and a silence followed: +"three!" and a rapturously breathless cry of children's voices +filled the room. "Two, two!" they shouted. + +This meant two stockings, which by a secret process known only to +herself Anna Makarovna used to knit at the same time on the same +needles, and which, when they were ready, she always triumphantly +drew, one out of the other, in the children's presence. + +CHAPTER XIV + +Soon after this the children came in to say good night. They +kissed everyone, the tutors and governesses made their bows, and +they went out. Only young Nicholas and his tutor remained. Dessalles +whispered to the boy to come downstairs. + +"No, Monsieur Dessalles, I will ask my aunt to let me stay," replied +Nicholas Bolkonski also in a whisper. + +"Ma tante, please let me stay," said he, going up to his aunt. + +His face expressed entreaty, agitation, and ecstasy. Countess Mary +glanced at him and turned to Pierre. + +"When you are here he can't tear himself away," she said. + +"I will bring him to you directly, Monsieur Dessalles. Good +night!" said Pierre, giving his hand to the Swiss tutor, and he turned +to young Nicholas with a smile. "You and I haven't seen anything of +one another yet... How like he is growing, Mary!" he added, addressing +Countess Mary. + +"Like my father?" asked the boy, flushing crimson and looking up +at Pierre with bright, ecstatic eyes. + +Pierre nodded, and went on with what he had been saying when the +children had interrupted. Countess Mary sat down doing woolwork; +Natasha did not take her eyes off her husband. Nicholas and Denisov +rose, asked for their pipes, smoked, went to fetch more tea from +Sonya- who sat weary but resolute at the samovar- and questioned +Pierre. The curly-headed, delicate boy sat with shining eyes unnoticed +in a corner, starting every now and then and muttering something to +himself, and evidently experiencing a new and powerful emotion as he +turned his curly head, with his thin neck exposed by his turn-down +collar, toward the place where Pierre sat. + +The conversation turned on the contemporary gossip about those in +power, in which most people see the chief interest of home politics. +Denisov, dissatisfied with the government on account of his own +disappointments in the service, heard with pleasure of the things done +in Petersburg which seemed to him stupid, and made forcible and +sharp comments on what Pierre told them. + +"One used to have to be a German- now one must dance with Tatawinova +and Madame Kwudener, and wead Ecka'tshausen and the bwethwen. Oh, they +should let that fine fellow Bonaparte lose- he'd knock all this +nonsense out of them! Fancy giving the command of the Semenov wegiment +to a fellow like that Schwa'tz!" he cried. + +Nicholas, though free from Denisov's readiness to find fault with +everything, also thought that discussion of the government was a +very serious and weighty matter, and the fact that A had been +appointed Minister of This and B Governor General of That, and that +the Emperor had said so-and-so and this minister so-and-so, seemed +to him very important. And so he thought it necessary to take an +interest in these things and to question Pierre. The questions put +by these two kept the conversation from changing its ordinary +character of gossip about the higher government circles. + +But Natasha, knowing all her husband's ways and ideas, saw that he +had long been wishing but had been unable to divert the conversation +to another channel and express his own deeply felt idea for the sake +of which he had gone to Petersburg to consult with his new friend +Prince Theodore, and she helped him by asking how his affairs with +Prince Theodore had gone. + +"What was it about?" asked Nicholas. + +"Always the same thing," said Pierre, looking round at his +listeners. "Everybody sees that things are going so badly that they +cannot be allowed to go on so and that it is the duty of all decent +men to counteract it as far as they can." + +"What can decent men do?" Nicholas inquired, frowning slightly. +"What can be done?" + +"Why, this..." + +"Come into my study," said Nicholas. + +Natasha, who had long expected to be fetched to nurse her baby, +now heard the nurse calling her and went to the nursery. Countess Mary +followed her. The men went into the study and little Nicholas +Bolkonski followed them unnoticed by his uncle and sat down at the +writing table in a shady corner by the window. + +"Well, what would you do?" asked Denisov. + +"Always some fantastic schemes," said Nicholas. + +"Why this," began Pierre, not sitting down but pacing the room, +sometimes stopping short, gesticulating, and lisping: "the position in +Petersburg is this: the Emperor does not look into anything. He has +abandoned himself altogether to this mysticism" (Pierre could not +tolerate mysticism in anyone now). "He seeks only for peace, and +only these people sans foi ni loi~^ can give it him- people who +recklessly hack at and strangle everything- Magnitski, Arakcheev, +and tutti quanti.... You will agree that if you did not look after +your estates yourself but only wanted a quiet life, the harsher your +steward was the more readily your object might be attained," he said +to Nicholas. + +^~ Without faith or law. + +"Well, what does that lead up to?" said Nicholas. + +"Well, everything is going to ruin! Robbery in the law courts, in +the army nothing but flogging, drilling, and Military Settlements; the +people are tortured, enlightenment is suppressed. All that is young +and honest is crushed! Everyone sees that this cannot go on. +Everything is strained to such a degree that it will certainly break," +said Pierre (as those who examine the actions of any government have +always said since governments began). "I told them just one thing in +Petersburg." + +"Told whom?" + +"Well, you know whom," said Pierre, with a meaning glance from under +his brows. "Prince Theodore and all those. To encourage culture and +philanthropy is all very well of course. The aim is excellent but in +the present circumstances something else is needed." + +At that moment Nicholas noticed the presence of his nephew. His face +darkened and he went up to the boy. + +"Why are you here?" + +"Why? Let him be," said Pierre, taking Nicholas by the arm and +continuing. "That is not enough, I told them. Something else is +needed. When you stand expecting the overstrained string to snap at +any moment, when everyone is expecting the inevitable catastrophe, +as many as possible must join hands as closely as they can to +withstand the general calamity. Everything that is young and strong is +being enticed away and depraved. One is lured by women, another by +honors, a third by ambition or money, and they go over to that camp. +No independent men, such as you or I, are left. What I say is widen +the scope of our society, let the mot d'ordre be not virtue alone +but independence and action as well!" + +Nicholas, who had left his nephew, irritably pushed up an +armchair, sat down in it, and listened to Pierre, coughing +discontentedly and frowning more and more. + +"But action with what aim?" he cried. "And what position will you +adopt toward the government?" + +"Why, the position of assistants. The society need not be secret +if the government allows it. Not merely is it not hostile to +government, but it is a society of true conservatives- a society of +gentlemen in the full meaning of that word. It is only to prevent some +Pugachev or other from killing my children and yours, and Arakcheev +from sending me off to some Military Settlement. We join hands only +for the public welfare and the general safety." + +"Yes, but it's a secret society and therefore a hostile and +harmful one which can only cause harm." + +"Why? Did the Tugendbund which saved Europe" (they did not then +venture to suggest that Russia had saved Europe) "do any harm? The +Tugendbund is an alliance of virtue: it is love, mutual help... it +is what Christ preached on the Cross." + +Natasha, who had come in during the conversation, looked joyfully at +her husband. It was not what he was saying that pleased her- that +did not even interest her, for it seemed to her that was all extremely +simple and that she had known it a long time (it seemed so to her +because she knew that it sprang from Pierre's whole soul), but it +was his animated and enthusiastic appearance that made her glad. + +The boy with the thin neck stretching out from the turn-down collar- +whom everyone had forgotten- gazed at Pierre with even greater and +more rapturous joy. Every word of Pierre's burned into his heart, +and with a nervous movement of his fingers he unconsciously broke +the sealing wax and quill pens his hands came upon on his uncle's +table. + +"It is not at all what you suppose; but that is what the German +Tugendbund was, and what I am proposing." + +"No, my fwiend! The Tugendbund is all vewy well for the sausage +eaters, but I don't understand it and can't even pwonounce it," +interposed Denisov in a loud and resolute voice. "I agwee that +evewything here is wotten and howwible, but the Tugendbund I don't +understand. If we're not satisfied, let us have a bunt of our own. +That's all wight. Je suis vot'e homme!"~^ + +^~ "I'm your man." + +Pierre smiled, Natasha began to laugh, but Nicholas knitted his +brows still more and began proving to Pierre that there was no +prospect of any great change and that all the danger he spoke of +existed only in his imagination. Pierre maintained the contrary, and +as his mental faculties were greater and more resourceful, Nicholas +felt himself cornered. This made him still angrier, for he was fully +convinced, not by reasoning but by something within him stronger +than reason, of the justice of his opinion. + +"I will tell you this," he said, rising and trying with nervously +twitching fingers to prop up his pipe in a corner, but finally +abandoning the attempt. "I can't prove it to you. You say that +everything here is rotten and that an overthrow is coming: I don't see +it. But you also say that our oath of allegiance is a conditional +matter, and to that I reply: 'You are my best friend, as you know, but +if you formed a secret society and began working against the +government- be it what it may- I know it is my duty to obey the +government. And if Arakcheev ordered me to lead a squadron against you +and cut you down, I should not hesitate an instant, but should do it.' +And you may argue about that as you like!" + +An awkward silence followed these words. Natasha was the first to +speak, defending her husband and attacking her brother. Her defense +was weak and inapt but she attained her object. The conversation was +resumed, and no longer in the unpleasantly hostile tone of Nicholas' +last remark. + +When they all got up to go in to supper, little Nicholas Bolkonski +went up to Pierre, pale and with shining, radiant eyes. + +"Uncle Pierre, you... no... If Papa were alive... would he agree +with you?" he asked. + +And Pierre suddenly realized what a special, independent, complex, +and powerful process of thought and feeling must have been going on in +this boy during that conversation, and remembering all he had said +he regretted that the lad should have heard him. He had, however, to +give him an answer. + +"Yes, I think so," he said reluctantly, and left the study. + +The lad looked down and seemed now for the first time to notice what +he had done to the things on the table. He flushed and went up to +Nicholas. + +"Uncle, forgive me, I did that... unintentionally," he said, +pointing to the broken sealing wax and pens. + +Nicholas started angrily. + +"All right, all right," he said, throwing the bits under the table. + +And evidently suppressing his vexation with difficulty, he turned +away from the boy. + +"You ought not to have been here at all," he said. + +CHAPTER XV + +The conversation at supper was not about politics or societies, +but turned on the subject Nicholas liked best- recollections of +1812. Denisov started these and Pierre was particularly agreeable +and amusing about them. The family separated on the most friendly +terms. + +After supper Nicholas, having undressed in his study and given +instructions to the steward who had been waiting for him, went to +the bedroom in his dressing gown, where he found his wife still at her +table, writing. + +"What are you writing, Mary?" Nicholas asked. + +Countess Mary blushed. She was afraid that what she was writing +would not be understood or approved by her husband. + +She had wanted to conceal what she was writing from him, but at +the same time was glad he had surprised her at it and that she would +now have to tell him. + +"A diary, Nicholas," she replied, handing him a blue exercise book +filled with her firm, bold writing. + +"A diary?" Nicholas repeated with a shade of irony, and he took up +the book. + +It was in French. + +December 4. Today when Andrusha (her eldest boy) woke up he did +not wish to dress and Mademoiselle Louise sent for me. He was +naughty and obstinate. I tried threats, but he only grew angrier. Then +I took the matter in hand: I left him alone and began with nurse's +help to get the other children up, telling him that I did not love +him. For a long time he was silent, as if astonished, then he jumped +out of bed, ran to me in his shirt, and sobbed so that I could not +calm him for a long time. It was plain that what troubled him most was +that he had grieved me. Afterwards in the evening when I gave him +his ticket, he again began crying piteously and kissing me. One can do +anything with him by tenderness. + +"What is a 'ticket'?" Nicholas inquired. + +"I have begun giving the elder ones marks every evening, showing how +they have behaved." + +Nicholas looked into the radiant eyes that were gazing at him, and +continued to turn over the pages and read. In the diary was set down +everything in the children's lives that seemed noteworthy to their +mother as showing their characters or suggesting general reflections +on educational methods. They were for the most part quite +insignificant trifles, but did not seem so to the mother or to the +father either, now that he read this diary about his children for +the first time. + +Under the date "5" was entered: + +Mitya was naughty at table. Papa said he was to have no pudding. +He had none, but looked so unhappily and greedily at the others +while they were eating! I think that punishment by depriving +children of sweets only develops their greediness. Must tell +Nicholas this. + +Nicholas put down the book and looked at his wife. The radiant +eyes gazed at him questioningly: would he approve or disapprove of her +diary? There could be no doubt not only of his approval but also of +his admiration for his wife. + +Perhaps it need not be done so pedantically, thought Nicholas, or +even done at all, but this untiring, continual spiritual effort of +which the sole aim was the children's moral welfare delighted him. Had +Nicholas been able to analyze his feelings he would have found that +his steady, tender, and proud love of his wife rested on his feeling +of wonder at her spirituality and at the lofty moral world, almost +beyond his reach, in which she had her being. + +He was proud of her intelligence and goodness, recognized his own +insignificance beside her in the spiritual world, and rejoiced all the +more that she with such a soul not only belonged to him but was part +of himself. + +"I quite, quite approve, my dearest!" said he with a significant +look, and after a short pause he added: "And I behaved badly today. +You weren't in the study. We began disputing- Pierre and I- and I lost +my temper. But he is impossible: such a child! I don't know what would +become of him if Natasha didn't keep him in hand.... Have you any idea +why he went to Petersburg? They have formed..." + +"Yes, I know," said Countess Mary. "Natasha told me." + +"Well, then, you know," Nicholas went on, growing hot at the mere +recollection of their discussion, "he wanted to convince me that it is +every honest man's duty to go against the government, and that the +oath of allegiance and duty... I am sorry you weren't there. They +all fell on me- Denisov and Natasha... Natasha is absurd. How she +rules over him! And yet there need only be a discussion and she has no +words of her own but only repeats his sayings..." added Nicholas, +yielding to that irresistible inclination which tempts us to judge +those nearest and dearest to us. He forgot that what he was saying +about Natasha could have been applied word for word to himself in +relation to his wife. + +"Yes, I have noticed that," said Countess Mary. + +"When I told him that duty and the oath were above everything, he +started proving goodness knows what! A pity you were not there- what +would you have said?" + +"As I see it you were quite right, and I told Natasha so. Pierre +says everybody is suffering, tortured, and being corrupted, and that +it is our duty to help our neighbor. Of course he is right there," +said Countess Mary, "but he forgets that we have other duties nearer +to us, duties indicated to us by God Himself, and that though we might +expose ourselves to risks we must not risk our children." + +"Yes, that's it! That's just what I said to him," put in Nicholas, +who fancied he really had said it. "But they insisted on their own +view: love of one's neighbor and Christianity- and all this in the +presence of young Nicholas, who had gone into my study and broke all +my things." + +"Ah, Nicholas, do you know I am often troubled about little +Nicholas," said Countess Mary. "He is such an exceptional boy. I am +afraid I neglect him in favor of my own: we all have children and +relations while he has no one. He is constantly alone with his +thoughts." + +"Well, I don't think you need reproach yourself on his account. +All that the fondest mother could do for her son you have done and are +doing for him, and of course I am glad of it. He is a fine lad, a fine +lad! This evening he listened to Pierre in a sort of trance, and +fancy- as we were going in to supper I looked and he had broken +everything on my table to bits, and he told me of it himself at +once! I never knew him to tell an untruth. A fine lad, a fine lad!" +repeated Nicholas, who at heart was not fond of Nicholas Bolkonski but +was always anxious to recognize that he was a fine lad. + +"Still, I am not the same as his own mother," said Countess Mary. "I +feel I am not the same and it troubles me. A wonderful boy, but I am +dreadfully afraid for him. It would be good for him to have +companions." + +"Well it won't be for long. Next summer I'll take him to +Petersburg," said Nicholas. "Yes, Pierre always was a dreamer and +always will be," he continued, returning to the talk in the study +which had evidently disturbed him. "Well, what business is it of +mine what goes on there- whether Arakcheev is bad, and all that? +What business was it of mine when I married and was so deep in debt +that I was threatened with prison, and had a mother who could not +see or understand it? And then there are you and the children and +our affairs. Is it for my own pleasure that I am at the farm or in the +office from morning to night? No, but I know I must work to comfort my +mother, to repay you, and not to leave the children such beggars as +I was." + +Countess Mary wanted to tell him that man does not live by bread +alone and that he attached too much importance to these matters. But +she knew she must not say this and that it would be useless to do +so. She only took his hand and kissed it. He took this as a sign of +approval and a confirmation of his thoughts, and after a few +minutes' reflection continued to think aloud. + +"You know, Mary, today Elias Mitrofanych" (this was his overseer) +"came back from the Tambov estate and told me they are already +offering eighty thousand rubles for the forest." + +And with an eager face Nicholas began to speak of the possibility of +repurchasing Otradnoe before long, and added: "Another ten years of +life and I shall leave the children... in an excellent position." + +Countess Mary listened to her husband and understood all that he +told her. She knew that when he thought aloud in this way he would +sometimes ask her what he had been saying, and be vexed if he +noticed that she had been thinking about something else. But she had +to force herself to attend, for what he was saying did not interest +her at all. She looked at him and did not think, but felt, about +something different. She felt a submissive tender love for this man +who would never understand all that she understood, and this seemed to +make her love for him still stronger and added a touch of passionate +tenderness. Besides this feeling which absorbed her altogether and +hindered her from following the details of her husband's plans, +thoughts that had no connection with what he was saying flitted +through her mind. She thought of her nephew. Her husband's account +of the boy's agitation while Pierre was speaking struck her +forcibly, and various traits of his gentle, sensitive character +recurred to her mind; and while thinking of her nephew she thought +also of her own children. She did not compare them with him, but +compared her feeling for them with her feeling for him, and felt +with regret that there was something lacking in her feeling for +young Nicholas. + +Sometimes it seemed to her that this difference arose from the +difference in their ages, but she felt herself to blame toward him and +promised in her heart to do better and to accomplish the impossible- +in this life to love her husband, her children, little Nicholas, and +all her neighbors, as Christ loved mankind. Countess Mary's soul +always strove toward the infinite, the eternal, and the absolute, +and could therefore never be at peace. A stern expression of the +lofty, secret suffering of a soul burdened by the body appeared on her +face. Nicholas gazed at her. "O God! What will become of us if she +dies, as I always fear when her face is like that?" thought he, and +placing himself before the icon he began to say his evening prayers. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Natasha and Pierre, left alone, also began to talk as only a husband +and wife can talk, that is, with extraordinary clearness and rapidity, +understanding and expressing each other's thoughts in ways contrary to +all rules of logic, without premises, deductions, or conclusions, +and in a quite peculiar way. Natasha was so used to this kind of +talk with her husband that for her it was the surest sign of something +being wrong between them if Pierre followed a line of logical +reasoning. When he began proving anything, or talking +argumentatively and calmly and she, led on by his example, began to do +the same, she knew that they were on the verge of a quarrel. + +From the moment they were alone and Natasha came up to him with +wide-open happy eyes, and quickly seizing his head pressed it to her +bosom, saying: "Now you are all mine, mine! You won't escape!"- from +that moment this conversation began, contrary to all the laws of logic +and contrary to them because quite different subjects were talked +about at one and the same time. This simultaneous discussion of many +topics did not prevent a clear understanding but on the contrary was +the surest sign that they fully understood one another. + +Just as in a dream when all is uncertain, unreasoning, and +contradictory, except the feeling that guides the dream, so in this +intercourse contrary to all laws of reason, the words themselves +were not consecutive and clear but only the feeling that prompted +them. + +Natasha spoke to Pierre about her brother's life and doings, of +how she had suffered and lacked life during his own absence, and of +how she was fonder than ever of Mary, and how Mary was in every way +better than herself. In saying this Natasha was sincere in +acknowledging Mary's superiority, but at the same time by saying it +she made a demand on Pierre that he should, all the same, prefer her +to Mary and to all other women, and that now, especially after +having seen many women in Petersburg, he should tell her so afresh. + +Pierre, answering Natasha's words, told her how intolerable it had +been for him to meet ladies at dinners and balls in Petersburg. + +"I have quite lost the knack of talking to ladies," he said. "It was +simply dull. Besides, I was very busy." + +Natasha looked intently at him and went on: + +"Mary is so splendid," she said. "How she understands children! It +is as if she saw straight into their souls. Yesterday, for instance, +Mitya was naughty..." + +"How like his father he is," Pierre interjected. + +Natasha knew why he mentioned Mitya's likeness to Nicholas: the +recollection of his dispute with his brother-in-law was unpleasant and +he wanted to know what Natasha thought of it. + +"Nicholas has the weakness of never agreeing with anything not +generally accepted. But I understand that you value what opens up a +fresh line," said she, repeating words Pierre had once uttered. + +"No, the chief point is that to Nicholas ideas and discussions are +an amusement- almost a pastime," said Pierre. "For instance, he is +collecting a library and has made it a rule not to buy a new book till +he has read what he had already bought- Sismondi and Rousseau and +Montesquieu," he added with a smile. "You know how much I..." he began +to soften down what he had said; but Natasha interrupted him to show +that this was unnecessary. + +"So you say ideas are an amusement to him...." + +"Yes, and for me nothing else is serious. All the time in Petersburg +I saw everyone as in a dream. When I am taken up by a thought, all +else is mere amusement." + +"Ah, I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you met the children," said +Natasha. "Which was most delighted? Lisa, I'm sure." + +"Yes," Pierre replied, and went on with what was in his mind. +"Nicholas says we ought not to think. But I can't help it. Besides, +when I was in Petersburg I felt (I can this to you) that the whole +affair would go to pieces without me- everyone was pulling his own +way. But I succeeded in uniting them all; and then my idea is so clear +and simple. You see, I don't say that we ought to oppose this and +that. We may be mistaken. What I say is: 'Join hands, you who love the +right, and let there be but one banner- that of active virtue.' Prince +Sergey is a fine fellow and clever." + +Natasha would have had no doubt as to the greatness of Pierre's +idea, but one thing disconcerted her. "Can a man so important and +necessary to society be also my husband? How did this happen?" She +wished to express this doubt to him. "Now who could decide whether +he is really cleverer than all the others?" she asked herself, and +passed in review all those whom Pierre most respected. Judging by what +he had said there was no one he had respected so highly as Platon +Karataev. + +"Do you know what I am thinking about?" she asked. "About Platon +Karataev. Would he have approved of you now, do you think?" + +Pierre was not at all surprised at this question. He understood +his wife's line of thought. + +"Platon Karataev?" he repeated, and pondered, evidently sincerely +trying to imagine Karataev's opinion on the subject. "He would not +have understood... yet perhaps he would." + +"I love you awfully!" Natasha suddenly said. "Awfully, awfully!" + +"No, he would not have approved," said Pierre, after reflection. +"What he would have approved of is our family life. He was always so +anxious to find seemliness, happiness, and peace in everything, and +I should have been proud to let him see us. There now- you talk of +my absence, but you wouldn't believe what a special feeling I have for +you after a separation...." + +"Yes, I should think..." Natasha began. + +"No, it's not that. I never leave off loving you. And one couldn't +love more, but this is something special.... Yes, of course-" he did +not finish because their eyes meeting said the rest. + +"What nonsense it is," Natasha suddenly exclaimed, "about +honeymoons, and that the greatest happiness is at first! On the +contrary, now is the best of all. If only you did not go away! Do +you remember how we quarreled? And it was always my fault. Always +mine. And what we quarreled about- I don't even remember!" + +"Always about the same thing," said Pierre with a smile. "Jealo..." + +"Don't say it! I can't bear it!" Natasha cried, and her eyes +glittered coldly and vindictively. "Did you see her?" she added, after +a pause. + +"No, and if I had I shouldn't have recognized her." + +They were silent for a while. + +"Oh, do you know? While you were talking in the study I was +looking at you," Natasha began, evidently anxious to disperse the +cloud that had come over them. "You are as like him as two peas- +like the boy." (She meant her little son.) "Oh, it's time to go to +him.... The milk's come.... But I'm sorry to leave you." + +They were silent for a few seconds. Then suddenly turning to one +another at the same time they both began to speak. Pierre began with +self-satisfaction and enthusiasm, Natasha with a quiet, happy smile. +Having interrupted one another they both stopped to let the other +continue. + +"No. What did you say? Go on, go on." + +"No, you go on, I was talking nonsense," said Natasha. + +Pierre finished what he had begun. It was the sequel to his +complacent reflections on his success in Petersburg. At that moment it +seemed to him that he was chosen to give a new direction to the +whole of Russian society and to the whole world. + +"I only wished to say that ideas that have great results are +always simple ones. My whole idea is that if vicious people are united +and constitute a power, then honest folk must do the same. Now +that's simple enough." + +"Yes." + +"And what were you going to say?" + +"I? Only nonsense." + +"But all the same?" + +"Oh nothing, only a trifle," said Natasha, smilingly still more +brightly. "I only wanted to tell you about Petya: today nurse was +coming to take him from me, and he laughed, shut his eyes, and clung +to me. I'm sure he thought he was hiding. Awfully sweet! There, now +he's crying. Well, good-by!" and she left the room. + +Meanwhile downstairs in young Nicholas Bolkonski's bedroom a +little lamp was burning as usual. (The boy was afraid of the dark +and they could not cure him of it.) Dessalles slept propped up on four +pillows and his Roman nose emitted sounds of rhythmic snoring. +Little Nicholas, who had just waked up in a cold perspiration, sat +up in bed and gazed before him with wide-open eyes. He had awaked from +a terrible dream. He had dreamed that he and Uncle Pierre, wearing +helmets such as were depicted in his Plutarch, were leading a huge +army. The army was made up of white slanting lines that filled the air +like the cobwebs that float about in autumn and which Dessalles called +les fils de la Vierge. In front was Glory, which was similar to +those threads but rather thicker. He and Pierre were borne along +lightly and joyously, nearer and nearer to their goal. Suddenly the +threads that moved them began to slacken and become entangled and it +grew difficult to move. And Uncle Nicholas stood before them in a +stern and threatening attitude. + +"Have you done this?" he said, pointing to some broken sealing wax +and pens. "I loved you, but I have orders from Arakcheev and will kill +the first of you who moves forward." Little Nicholas turned to look at +Pierre but Pierre was no longer there. In his place was his father- +Prince Andrew- and his father had neither shape nor form, but he +existed, and when little Nicholas perceived him he grew faint with +love: he felt himself powerless, limp, and formless. His father +caressed and pitied him. But Uncle Nicholas came nearer and nearer +to them. Terror seized young Nicholas and he awoke. + +"My father!" he thought. (Though there were two good portraits of +Prince Andrew in the house, Nicholas never imagined him in human +form.) "My father has been with me and caressed me. He approved of +me and of Uncle Pierre. Whatever he may tell me, I will do it. +Mucius Scaevola burned his hand. Why should not the same sort of thing +happen to me? I know they want me to learn. And I will learn. But +someday I shall have finished learning, and then I will do +something. I only pray God that something may happen to me such as +happened to Plutarch's men, and I will act as they did. I will do +better. Everyone shall know me, love me, and be delighted with me!" +And suddenly his bosom heaved with sobs and he began to cry. + +"Are you ill?" he heard Dessalles' voice asking. + +"No," answered Nicholas, and lay back on his pillow. + +"He is good and kind and I am fond of him!" he thought of Dessalles. +"But Uncle Pierre! Oh, what a wonderful man he is! And my father? +Oh, Father, Father! Yes, I will do something with which even he +would be satisfied...." + +SECOND EPILOGUE + +CHAPTER I + +History is the life of nations and of humanity. To seize and put +into words, to describe directly the life of humanity or even of a +single nation, appears impossible. + +The ancient historians all employed one and the same method to +describe and seize the apparently elusive- the life of a people. +They described the activity of individuals who ruled the people, and +regarded the activity of those men as representing the activity of the +whole nation. + +The question: how did individuals make nations act as they wished +and by what was the will of these individuals themselves guided? the +ancients met by recognizing a divinity which subjected the nations +to the will of a chosen man, and guided the will of that chosen man so +as to accomplish ends that were predestined. + +For the ancients these questions were solved by a belief in the +direct participation of the Deity in human affairs. + +Modern history, in theory, rejects both these principles. + +It would seem that having rejected the belief of the ancients in +man's subjection to the Deity and in a predetermined aim toward +which nations are led, modern history should study not the +manifestations of power but the causes that produce it. But modern +history has not done this. Having in theory rejected the view held +by the ancients, it still follows them in practice. + +Instead of men endowed with divine authority and directly guided +by the will of God, modern history has given us either heroes +endowed with extraordinary, superhuman capacities, or simply men of +very various kinds, from monarchs to journalists, who lead the masses. +Instead of the former divinely appointed aims of the Jewish, Greek, or +Roman nations, which ancient historians regarded as representing the +progress of humanity, modern history has postulated its own aims- +the welfare of the French, German, or English people, or, in its +highest abstraction, the welfare and civilization of humanity in +general, by which is usually meant that of the peoples occupying a +small northwesterly portion of a large continent. + +Modern history has rejected the beliefs of the ancients without +replacing them by a new conception, and the logic of the situation has +obliged the historians, after they had apparently rejected the +divine authority of the kings and the "fate" of the ancients, to reach +the same conclusion by another road, that is, to recognize (1) nations +guided by individual men, and (2) the existence of a known aim to +which these nations and humanity at large are tending. + +At the basis of the works of all the modern historians from Gibbon +to Buckle, despite their seeming disagreements and the apparent +novelty of their outlooks, lie those two old, unavoidable assumptions. + +In the first place the historian describes the activity of +individuals who in his opinion have directed humanity (one historian +considers only monarchs, generals, and ministers as being such men, +while another includes also orators, learned men, reformers, +philosophers, and poets). Secondly, it is assumed that the goal toward +which humanity is being led is known to the historians: to one of them +this goal is the greatness of the Roman, Spanish, or French realm; +to another it is liberty, equality, and a certain kind of civilization +of a small corner of the world called Europe. + +In 1789 a ferment arises in Paris; it grows, spreads, and is +expressed by a movement of peoples from west to east. Several times it +moves eastward and collides with a countermovement from the east +westward. In 1812 it reaches its extreme limit, Moscow, and then, with +remarkable symmetry, a countermovement occurs from east to west, +attracting to it, as the first movement had done, the nations of +middle Europe. The counter movement reaches the starting point of +the first movement in the west- Paris- and subsides. + +During that twenty-year period an immense number of fields were left +untilled, houses were burned, trade changed its direction, millions of +men migrated, were impoverished, or were enriched, and millions of +Christian men professing the law of love of their fellows slew one +another. + +What does all this mean? Why did it happen? What made those people +burn houses and slay their fellow men? What were the causes of these +events? What force made men act so? These are the instinctive, +plain, and most legitimate questions humanity asks itself when it +encounters the monuments and tradition of that period. + +For a reply to these questions the common sense of mankind turns +to the science of history, whose aim is to enable nations and humanity +to know themselves. + +If history had retained the conception of the ancients it would have +said that God, to reward or punish his people, gave Napoleon power and +directed his will to the fulfillment of the divine ends, and that +reply, would have been clear and complete. One might believe or +disbelieve in the divine significance of Napoleon, but for anyone +believing in it there would have been nothing unintelligible in the +history of that period, nor would there have been any contradictions. + +But modern history cannot give that reply. Science does not admit +the conception of the ancients as to the direct participation of the +Deity in human affairs, and therefore history ought to give other +answers. + +Modern history replying to these questions says: you want to know +what this movement means, what caused it, and what force produced +these events? Then listen: + +"Louis XIV was a very proud and self-confident man; he had such +and such mistresses and such and such ministers and he ruled France +badly. His descendants were weak men and they too ruled France +badly. And they had such and such favorites and such and such +mistresses. Moreover, certain men wrote some books at that time. At +the end of the eighteenth century there were a couple of dozen men +in Paris who began to talk about all men being free and equal. This +caused people all over France to begin to slash at and drown one +another. They killed the king and many other people. At that time +there was in France a man of genius- Napoleon. He conquered +everybody everywhere- that is, he killed many people because he was +a great genius. And for some reason he went to kill Africans, and +killed them so well and was so cunning and wise that when he +returned to France he ordered everybody to obey him, and they all +obeyed him. Having become an Emperor he again went out to kill +people in Italy, Austria, and Prussia. And there too he killed a great +many. In Russia there was an Emperor, Alexander, who decided to +restore order in Europe and therefore fought against Napoleon. In 1807 +he suddenly made friends with him, but in 1811 they again quarreled +and again began killing many people. Napoleon led six hundred thousand +men into Russia and captured Moscow; then he suddenly ran away from +Moscow, and the Emperor Alexander, helped by the advice of Stein and +others, united Europe to arm against the disturber of its peace. All +Napoleon's allies suddenly became his enemies and their forces +advanced against the fresh forces he raised. The Allies defeated +Napoleon, entered Paris, forced Napoleon to abdicate, and sent him +to the island of Elba, not depriving him of the title of Emperor and +showing him every respect, though five years before and one year later +they all regarded him as an outlaw and a brigand. Then Louis XVIII, +who till then had been the laughingstock both of the French and the +Allies, began to reign. And Napoleon, shedding tears before his Old +Guards, renounced the throne and went into exile. Then the skillful +statesmen and diplomatists (especially Talleyrand, who managed to +sit down in a particular chair before anyone else and thereby extended +the frontiers of France) talked in Vienna and by these conversations +made the nations happy or unhappy. Suddenly the diplomatists and +monarchs nearly quarreled and were on the point of again ordering +their armies to kill one another, but just then Napoleon arrived in +France with a battalion, and the French, who had been hating him, +immediately all submitted to him. But the Allied monarchs were angry +at this and went to fight the French once more. And they defeated +the genius Napoleon and, suddenly recognizing him as a brigand, sent +him to the island of St. Helena. And the exile, separated from the +beloved France so dear to his heart, died a lingering death on that +rock and bequeathed his great deeds to posterity. But in Europe a +reaction occurred and the sovereigns once again all began to oppress +their subjects." + +It would be a mistake to think that this is ironic- a caricature +of the historical accounts. On the contrary it is a very mild +expression of the contradictory replies, not meeting the questions, +which all the historians give, from the compilers of memoirs and the +histories of separate states to the writers of general histories and +the new histories of the culture of that period. + +The strangeness and absurdity of these replies arise from the fact +that modern history, like a deaf man, answers questions no one has +asked. + +If the purpose of history be to give a description of the movement +of humanity and of the peoples, the first question- in the absence +of a reply to which all the rest will be incomprehensible- is: what is +the power that moves peoples? To this, modern history laboriously +replies either that Napoleon was a great genius, or that Louis XIV was +very proud, or that certain writers wrote certain books. + +All that may be so and mankind is ready to agree with it, but it +is not what was asked. All that would be interesting if we +recognized a divine power based on itself and always consistently +directing its nations through Napoleons, Louis-es, and writers; but we +do not acknowledge such a power, and therefore before speaking about +Napoleons, Louis-es, and authors, we ought to be shown the +connection existing between these men and the movement of the nations. + +If instead of a divine power some other force has appeared, it +should be explained in what this new force consists, for the whole +interest of history lies precisely in that force. + +History seems to assume that this force is self-evident and known to +everyone. But in spite of every desire to regard it as known, anyone +reading many historical works cannot help doubting whether this new +force, so variously understood by the historians themselves, is really +quite well known to everybody. + +CHAPTER II + +What force moves the nations? + +Biographical historians and historians of separate nations +understand this force as a power inherent in heroes and rulers. In +their narration events occur solely by the will of a Napoleon, and +Alexander, or in general of the persons they describe. The answers +given by this kind of historian to the question of what force causes +events to happen are satisfactory only as long as there is but one +historian to each event. As soon as historians of different +nationalities and tendencies begin to describe the same event, the +replies they give immediately lose all meaning, for this force is +understood by them all not only differently but often in quite +contradictory ways. One historian says that an event was produced by +Napoleon's power, another that it was produced by Alexander's, a third +that it was due to the power of some other person. Besides this, +historians of that kind contradict each other even in their +statement as to the force on which the authority of some particular +person was based. Thiers, a Bonapartist, says that Napoleon's power +was based on his virtue and genius. Lanfrey, a Republican, says it was +based on his trickery and deception of the people. So the historians +of this class, by mutually destroying one another's positions, destroy +the understanding of the force which produces events, and furnish no +reply to history's essential question. + +Writers of universal history who deal with all the nations seem to +recognize how erroneous is the specialist historians' view of the +force which produces events. They do not recognize it as a power +inherent in heroes and rulers, but as the resultant of a +multiplicity of variously directed forces. In describing a war or +the subjugation of a people, a general historian looks for the cause +of the event not in the power of one man, but in the interaction of +many persons connected with the event. + +According to this view the power of historical personages, +represented as the product of many forces, can no longer, it would +seem, be regarded as a force that itself produces events. Yet in +most cases universal historians still employ the conception of power +as a force that itself produces events, and treat it as their cause. +In their exposition, an historic character is first the product of his +time, and his power only the resultant of various forces, and then his +power is itself a force producing events. Gervinus, Schlosser, and +others, for instance, at one time prove Napoleon to be a product of +the Revolution, of the ideas of 1789 and so forth, and at another +plainly say that the campaign of 1812 and other things they do not +like were simply the product of Napoleon's misdirected will, and +that the very ideas of 1789 were arrested in their development by +Napoleon's caprice. The ideas of the Revolution and the general temper +of the age produced Napoleon's power. But Napoleon's power +suppressed the ideas of the Revolution and the general temper of the +age. + +This curious contradiction is not accidental. Not only does it occur +at every step, but the universal historians' accounts are all made +up of a chain of such contradictions. This contradiction occurs +because after entering the field of analysis the universal +historians stop halfway. + +To find component forces equal to the composite or resultant +force, the sum of the components must equal the resultant. This +condition is never observed by the universal historians, and so to +explain the resultant forces they are obliged to admit, in addition to +the insufficient components, another unexplained force affecting the +resultant action. + +Specialist historians describing the campaign of 1813 or the +restoration of the Bourbons plainly assert that these events were +produced by the will of Alexander. But the universal historian +Gervinus, refuting this opinion of the specialist historian, tries +to prove that the campaign of 1813 and the restoration of the Bourbons +were due to other things beside Alexander's will- such as the activity +of Stein, Metternich, Madame de Stael, Talleyrand, Fichte +Chateaubriand, and others. The historian evidently decomposes +Alexander's power into the components: Talleyrand, Chateaubriand, +and the rest- but the sum of the components, that is, the interactions +of Chateaubriand, Talleyrand, Madame de Stael, and the others, +evidently does not equal the resultant, namely the phenomenon of +millions of Frenchmen submitting to the Bourbons. That +Chateaubriand, Madame de Stael, and others spoke certain words to +one another only affected their mutual relations but does not +account for the submission of millions. And therefore to explain how +from these relations of theirs the submission of millions of people +resulted- that is, how component forces equal to one A gave a +resultant equal to a thousand times A- the historian is again +obliged to fall back on power- the force he had denied- and to +recognize it as the resultant of the forces, that is, he has to +admit an unexplained force acting on the resultant. And that is just +what the universal historians do, and consequently they not only +contradict the specialist historians but contradict themselves. + +Peasants having no clear idea of the cause of rain, say, according +to whether they want rain or fine weather: "The wind has blown the +clouds away," or, "The wind has brought up the clouds." And in the +same way the universal historians sometimes, when it pleases them +and fits in with their theory, say that power is the result of events, +and sometimes, when they want to prove something else, say that +power produces events. + +A third class of historians- the so-called historians of culture- +following the path laid down by the universal historians who sometimes +accept writers and ladies as forces producing events- again take +that force to be something quite different. They see it in what is +called culture- in mental activity. + +The historians of culture are quite consistent in regard to their +progenitors, the writers of universal histories, for if historical +events may be explained by the fact that certain persons treated one +another in such and such ways, why not explain them by the fact that +such and such people wrote such and such books? Of the immense +number of indications accompanying every vital phenomenon, these +historians select the indication of intellectual activity and say that +this indication is the cause. But despite their endeavors to prove +that the cause of events lies in intellectual activity, only by a +great stretch can one admit that there is any connection between +intellectual activity and the movement of peoples, and in no case +can one admit that intellectual activity controls people's actions, +for that view is not confirmed by such facts as the very cruel murders +of the French Revolution resulting from the doctrine of the equality +of man, or the very cruel wars and executions resulting from the +preaching of love. + +But even admitting as correct all the cunningly devised arguments +with which these histories are filled- admitting that nations are +governed by some undefined force called an idea- history's essential +question still remains unanswered, and to the former power of monarchs +and to the influence of advisers and other people introduced by the +universal historians, another, newer force- the idea- is added, the +connection of which with the masses needs explanation. It is +possible to understand that Napoleon had power and so events occurred; +with some effort one may even conceive that Napoleon together with +other influences was the cause of an event; but how a book, Le Contrat +social, had the effect of making Frenchmen begin to drown one +another cannot be understood without an explanation of the causal +nexus of this new force with the event. + +Undoubtedly some relation exists between all who live +contemporaneously, and so it is possible to find some connection +between the intellectual activity of men and their historical +movements, just as such a connection may be found between the +movements of humanity and commerce, handicraft, gardening, or anything +else you please. But why intellectual activity is considered by the +historians of culture to be the cause or expression of the whole +historical movement is hard to understand. Only the following +considerations can have led the historians to such a conclusion: (1) +that history is written by learned men, and so it is natural and +agreeable for them to think that the activity of their class +supplies the basis of the movement of all humanity, just as a +similar belief is natural and agreeable to traders, agriculturists, +and soldiers (if they do not express it, that is merely because +traders and soldiers do not write history), and (2) that spiritual +activity, enlightenment, civilization, culture, ideas, are all +indistinct, indefinite conceptions under whose banner it is very +easy to use words having a still less definite meaning, and which +can therefore be readily introduced into any theory. + +But not to speak of the intrinsic quality of histories of this +kind (which may possibly even be of use to someone for something) +the histories of culture, to which all general histories tend more and +more to approximate, are significant from the fact that after +seriously and minutely examining various religious, philosophic, and +political doctrines as causes of events, as soon as they have to +describe an actual historic event such as the campaign of 1812 for +instance, they involuntarily describe it as resulting from an exercise +of power- and say plainly that that was the result of Napoleon's will. +Speaking so, the historians of culture involuntarily contradict +themselves, and show that the new force they have devised does not +account for what happens in history, and that history can only be +explained by introducing a power which they apparently do not +recognize. + +CHAPTER III + +A locomotive is moving. Someone asks: "What moves it?" A peasant +says the devil moves it. Another man says the locomotive moves because +its wheels go round. A third asserts that the cause of its movement +lies in the smoke which the wind carries away. + +The peasant is irrefutable. He has devised a complete explanation. +To refute him someone would have to prove to him that there is no +devil, or another peasant would have to explain to him that it is +not the devil but a German, who moves the locomotive. Only then, as +a result of the contradiction, will they see that they are both wrong. +But the man who says that the movement of the wheels is the cause +refutes himself, for having once begun to analyze he ought to go on +and explain further why the wheels go round; and till he has reached +the ultimate cause of the movement of the locomotive in the pressure +of steam in the boiler, he has no right to stop in his search for +the cause. The man who explains the movement of the locomotive by +the smoke that is carried back has noticed that the wheels do not +supply an explanation and has taken the first sign that occurs to +him and in his turn has offered that as an explanation. + +The only conception that can explain the movement of the +locomotive is that of a force commensurate with the movement observed. + +The only conception that can explain the movement of the peoples +is that of some force commensurate with the whole movement of the +peoples. + +Yet to supply this conception various historians take forces of +different kinds, all of which are incommensurate with the movement +observed. Some see it as a force directly inherent in heroes, as the +peasant sees the devil in the locomotive; others as a force +resulting from several other forces, like the movement of the +wheels; others again as an intellectual influence, like the smoke that +is blown away. + +So long as histories are written of separate individuals, whether +Caesars, Alexanders, Luthers, or Voltaires, and not the histories of +all, absolutely all those who take part in an event, it is quite +impossible to describe the movement of humanity without the conception +of a force compelling men to direct their activity toward a certain +end. And the only such conception known to historians is that of +power. + +This conception is the one handle by means of which the material +of history, as at present expounded, can be dealt with, and anyone who +breaks that handle off, as Buckle did, without finding some other +method of treating historical material, merely deprives himself of the +one possible way of dealing with it. The necessity of the conception +of power as an explanation of historical events is best demonstrated +by the universal historians and historians of culture themselves, +for they professedly reject that conception but inevitably have +recourse to it at every step. + +In dealing with humanity's inquiry, the science of history up to now +is like money in circulation- paper money and coin. The biographies +and special national histories are like paper money. They can be +used and can circulate and fulfill their purpose without harm to +anyone and even advantageously, as long as no one asks what is the +security behind them. You need only forget to ask how the will of +heroes produces events, and such histories as Thiers' will be +interesting and instructive and may perhaps even possess a tinge of +poetry. But just as doubts of the real value of paper money arise +either because, being easy to make, too much of it gets made or +because people try to exchange it for gold, so also doubts +concerning the real value of such histories arise either because too +many of them are written or because in his simplicity of heart someone +inquires: by what force did Napoleon do this?- that is, wants to +exchange the current paper money for the real gold of actual +comprehension. + +The writers of universal histories and of the history of culture are +like people who, recognizing the defects of paper money, decide to +substitute for it money made of metal that has not the specific +gravity of gold. It may indeed make jingling coin, but will do no more +than that. Paper money may deceive the ignorant, but nobody is +deceived by tokens of base metal that have no value but merely jingle. +As gold is gold only if it is serviceable not merely for exchange +but also for use, so universal historians will be valuable only when +they can reply to history's essential question: what is power? The +universal historians give contradictory replies to that question, +while the historians of culture evade it and answer something quite +different. And as counters of imitation gold can be used only among +a group of people who agree to accept them as gold, or among those who +do not know the nature of gold, so universal historians and historians +of culture, not answering humanity's essential question, serve as +currency for some purposes of their own, only in universities and +among the mass of readers who have a taste for what they call "serious +reading." + +CHAPTER IV + +Having abandoned the conception of the ancients as to the divine +subjection of the will of a nation to some chosen man and the +subjection of that man's will to the Deity, history cannot without +contradictions take a single step till it has chosen one of two +things: either a return to the former belief in the direct +intervention of the Deity in human affairs or a definite explanation +of the meaning of the force producing historical events and termed +"power." + +A return to the first is impossible, the belief has been +destroyed; and so it is essential to explain what is meant by power. + +Napoleon ordered an army to be raised and go to war. We are so +accustomed to that idea and have become so used to it that the +question: why did six hundred thousand men go to fight when Napoleon +uttered certain words, seems to us senseless. He had the power and +so what he ordered was done. + +This reply is quite satisfactory if we believe that the power was +given him by God. But as soon as we do not admit that, it becomes +essential to determine what is this power of one man over others. + +It cannot be the direct physical power of a strong man over a weak +one- a domination based on the application or threat of physical +force, like the power of Hercules; nor can it be based on the effect +of moral force, as in their simplicity some historians think who say +that the leading figures in history are heroes, that is, men gifted +with a special strength of soul and mind called genius. This power +cannot be based on the predominance of moral strength, for, not to +mention heroes such as Napoleon about whose moral qualities opinions +differ widely, history shows us that neither a Louis XI nor a +Metternich, who ruled over millions of people, had any particular +moral qualities, but on the contrary were generally morally weaker +than any of the millions they ruled over. + +If the source of power lies neither in the physical nor in the moral +qualities of him who possesses it, it must evidently be looked for +elsewhere- in the relation to the people of the man who wields the +power. + +And that is how power is understood by the science of jurisprudence, +that exchange bank of history which offers to exchange history's +understanding of power for true gold. + +Power is the collective will of the people transferred, by expressed +or tacit consent, to their chosen rulers. + +In the domain of jurisprudence, which consists of discussions of how +a state and power might be arranged were it possible for all that to +be arranged, it is all very clear; but when applied to history that +definition of power needs explanation. + +The science of jurisprudence regards the state and power as the +ancients regarded fire- namely, as something existing absolutely. +But for history, the state and power are merely phenomena, just as for +modern physics fire is not an element but a phenomenon. + +From this fundamental difference between the view held by history +and that held by jurisprudence, it follows that jurisprudence can tell +minutely how in its opinion power should be constituted and what +power- existing immutably outside time- is, but to history's questions +about the meaning of the mutations of power in time it can answer +nothing. + +If power be the collective will of the people transferred to their +ruler, was Pugachev a representative of the will of the people? If +not, then why was Napoleon I? Why was Napoleon III a criminal when +he was taken prisoner at Boulogne, and why, later on, were those +criminals whom he arrested? + +Do palace revolutions- in which sometimes only two or three people +take part- transfer the will of the people to a new ruler? In +international relations, is the will of the people also transferred to +their conqueror? Was the will of the Confederation of the Rhine +transferred to Napoleon in 1806? Was the will of the Russian people +transferred to Napoleon in 1809, when our army in alliance with the +French went to fight the Austrians? + +To these questions three answers are possible: + +Either to assume (1) that the will of the people is always +unconditionally transferred to the ruler or rulers they have chosen, +and that therefore every emergence of a new power, every struggle +against the power once appointed, should be absolutely regarded as +an infringement of the real power; or (2) that the will of the +people is transferred to the rulers conditionally, under definite +and known conditions, and to show that all limitations, conflicts, and +even destructions of power result from a nonobservance by the rulers +of the conditions under which their power was entrusted to them; or +(3) that the will of the people is delegated to the rulers +conditionally, but that the conditions are unknown and indefinite, and +that the appearance of several authorities, their struggles and +their falls, result solely from the greater or lesser fulfillment by +the rulers of these unknown conditions on which the will of the people +is transferred from some people to others. + +And these are the three ways in which the historians do explain +the relation of the people to their rulers. + +Some historians- those biographical and specialist historians +already referred to- in their simplicity failing to understand the +question of the meaning of power, seem to consider that the collective +will of the people is unconditionally transferred to historical +persons, and therefore when describing some single state they assume +that particular power to be the one absolute and real power, and +that any other force opposing this is not a power but a violation of +power- mere violence. + +Their theory, suitable for primitive and peaceful periods of +history, has the inconvenience- in application to complex and stormy +periods in the life of nations during which various powers arise +simultaneously and struggle with one another- that a Legitimist +historian will prove that the National Convention, the Directory, +and Bonaparte were mere infringers of the true power, while a +Republican and a Bonapartist will prove: the one that the Convention +and the other that the Empire was the real power, and that all the +others were violations of power. Evidently the explanations +furnished by these historians being mutually contradictory can only +satisfy young children. + +Recognizing the falsity of this view of history, another set of +historians say that power rests on a conditional delegation of the +will of the people to their rulers, and that historical leaders have +power only conditionally on carrying out the program that the will +of the people has by tacit agreement prescribed to them. But what this +program consists in these historians do not say, or if they do they +continually contradict one another. + +Each historian, according to his view of what constitutes a nation's +progress, looks for these conditions in the greatness, wealth, +freedom, or enlightenment of citizens of France or some other country. +But not to mention the historians' contradictions as to the nature +of this program- or even admitting that some one general program of +these conditions exists- the facts of history almost always contradict +that theory. If the conditions under which power is entrusted +consist in the wealth, freedom, and enlightenment of the people, how +is it that Louis XIV and Ivan the Terrible end their reigns +tranquilly, while Louis XVI and Charles I are executed by their +people? To this question historians reply that Louis XIV's activity, +contrary to the program, reacted on Louis XVI. But why did it not +react on Louis XIV or on Louis XV- why should it react just on Louis +XVI? And what is the time limit for such reactions? To these questions +there are and can be no answers. Equally little does this view explain +why for several centuries the collective will is not withdrawn from +certain rulers and their heirs, and then suddenly during a period of +fifty years is transferred to the Convention, to the Directory, to +Napoleon, to Alexander, to Louis XVIII, to Napoleon again, to +Charles X, to Louis Philippe, to a Republican government, and to +Napoleon III. When explaining these rapid transfers of the people's +will from from one individual to another, especially in view of +international relations, conquests, and alliances, the historians +are obliged to admit that some of these transfers are not normal +delegations of the people's will but are accidents dependent on +cunning, on mistakes, on craft, or on the weakness of a diplomatist, a +ruler, or a party leader. So that the greater part of the events of +history- civil wars, revolutions, and conquests- are presented by +these historians not as the results of free transferences of the +people's will, but as results of the ill-directed will of one or +more individuals, that is, once again, as usurpations of power. And so +these historians also see and admit historical events which are +exceptions to the theory. + +These historians resemble a botanist who, having noticed that some +plants grow from seeds producing two cotyledons, should insist that +all that grows does so by sprouting into two leaves, and that the +palm, the mushroom, and even the oak, which blossom into full growth +and no longer resemble two leaves, are deviations from the theory. + +Historians of the third class assume that the will of the people +is transferred to historic personages conditionally, but that the +conditions are unknown to us. They say that historical personages have +power only because they fulfill the will of the people which has +been delegated to them. + +But in that case, if the force that moves nations lies not in the +historic leaders but in the nations themselves, what significance have +those leaders? + +The leaders, these historians tell us, express the will of the +people: the activity of the leaders represents the activity of the +people. + +But in that case the question arises whether all the activity of the +leaders serves as an expression of the people's will or only some part +of it. If the whole activity of the leaders serves as the expression +of the people's will, as some historians suppose, then all the details +of the court scandals contained in the biographies of a Napoleon or +a Catherine serve to express the life of the nation, which is +evident nonsense; but if it is only some particular side of the +activity of an historical leader which serves to express the +people's life, as other so-called "philosophical" historians +believe, then to determine which side of the activity of a leader +expresses the nation's life, we have first of all to know in what +the nation's life consists. + +Met by this difficulty historians of that class devise some most +obscure, impalpable, and general abstraction which can cover all +conceivable occurrences, and declare this abstraction to be the aim of +humanity's movement. The most usual generalizations adopted by +almost all the historians are: freedom, equality, enlightenment, +progress, civilization, and culture. Postulating some generalization +as the goal of the movement of humanity, the historians study the +men of whom the greatest number of monuments have remained: kings, +ministers, generals, authors, reformers, popes, and journalists, to +the extent to which in their opinion these persons have promoted or +hindered that abstraction. But as it is in no way proved that the +aim of humanity does consist in freedom, equality, enlightenment, or +civilization, and as the connection of the people with the rulers +and enlighteners of humanity is only based on the arbitrary assumption +that the collective will of the people is always transferred to the +men whom we have noticed, it happens that the activity of the millions +who migrate, burn houses, abandon agriculture, and destroy one another +never is expressed in the account of the activity of some dozen people +who did not burn houses, practice agriculture, or slay their fellow +creatures. + +History proves this at every turn. Is the ferment of the peoples +of the west at the end of the eighteenth century and their drive +eastward explained by the activity of Louis XIV, XV, and XVI, their +mistresses and ministers, and by the lives of Napoleon, Rousseau, +Diderot, Beaumarchais, and others? + +Is the movement of the Russian people eastward to Kazan and +Siberia expressed by details of the morbid character of Ivan the +Terrible and by his correspondence with Kurbski? + +Is the movement of the peoples at the time of the Crusades explained +by the life and activity of the Godfreys and the Louis-es and their +ladies? For us that movement of the peoples from west to east, without +leaders, with a crowd of vagrants, and with Peter the Hermit, +remains incomprehensible. And yet more incomprehensible is the +cessation of that movement when a rational and sacred aim for the +Crusade- the deliverance of Jerusalem- had been clearly defined by +historic leaders. Popes, kings, and knights incited the peoples to +free the Holy Land; but the people did not go, for the unknown cause +which had previously impelled them to go no longer existed. The +history of the Godfreys and the Minnesingers can evidently not cover +the life of the peoples. And the history of the Godfreys and the +Minnesingers has remained the history of Godfreys and Minnesingers, +but the history of the life of the peoples and their impulses has +remained unknown. + +Still less does the history of authors and reformers explain to us +the life of the peoples. + +The history of culture explains to us the impulses and conditions of +life and thought of a writer or a reformer. We learn that Luther had a +hot temper and said such and such things; we learn that Rousseau was +suspicious and wrote such and such books; but we do not learn why +after the Reformation the peoples massacred one another, nor why +during the French Revolution they guillotined one another. + +If we unite both these kinds of history, as is done by the newest +historians, we shall have the history of monarchs and writers, but not +the history of the life of the peoples. + +CHAPTER V + +The life of the nations is not contained in the lives of a few +men, for the connection between those men and the nations has not been +found. The theory that this connection is based on the transference of +the collective will of a people to certain historical personages is an +hypothesis unconfirmed by the experience of history. + +The theory of the transference of the collective will of the +people to historic persons may perhaps explain much in the domain of +jurisprudence and be essential for its purposes, but in its +application to history, as soon as revolutions, conquests, or civil +wars occur- that is, as soon as history begins- that theory explains +nothing. + +The theory seems irrefutable just because the act of transference of +the people's will cannot be verified, for it never occurred. + +Whatever happens and whoever may stand at the head of affairs, the +theory can always say that such and such a person took the lead +because the collective will was transferred to him. + +The replies this theory gives to historical questions are like the +replies of a man who, watching the movements of a herd of cattle and +paying no attention to the varying quality of the pasturage in +different parts of the field, or to the driving of the herdsman, +should attribute the direction the herd takes to what animal happens +to be at its head. + +"The herd goes in that direction because the animal in front leads +it and the collective will of all the other animals is vested in +that leader." This is what historians of the first class say- those +who assume the unconditional transference of the people's will. + +"If the animals leading the herd change, this happens because the +collective will of all the animals is transferred from one leader to +another, according to whether the animal is or is not leading them +in the direction selected by the whole herd." Such is the reply +historians who assume that the collective will of the people is +delegated to rulers under conditions which they regard as known. (With +this method of observation it often happens that the observer, +influenced by the direction he himself prefers, regards those as +leaders who, owing to the people's change of direction, are no +longer in front, but on one side, or even in the rear.) + +"If the animals in front are continually changing and the +direction of the whole herd is constantly altered, this is because +in order to follow a given direction the animals transfer their will +to the animals that have attracted our attention, and to study the +movements of the herd we must watch the movements of all the prominent +animals moving on all sides of the herd." So say the third class of +historians who regard all historical persons, from monarchs to +journalists, as the expression of their age. + +The theory of the transference of the will of the people to historic +persons is merely a paraphrase- a restatement of the question in other +words. + +What causes historical events? Power. What is power? Power is the +collective will of the people transferred to one person. Under what +condition is the will of the people delegated to one person? On +condition that that person expresses the will of the whole people. +That is, power is power: in other words, power is a word the meaning +of which we do not understand. + +If the realm of human knowledge were confined to abstract reasoning, +then having subjected to criticism the explanation of "power" that +juridical science gives us, humanity would conclude that power is +merely a word and has no real existence. But to understand phenomena +man has, besides abstract reasoning, experience by which he verifies +his reflections. And experience tells us that power is not merely a +word but an actually existing phenomenon. + +Not to speak of the fact that no description of the collective +activity of men can do without the conception of power, the +existence of power is proved both by history and by observing +contemporary events. + +Whenever an event occurs a man appears or men appear, by whose +will the event seems to have taken place. Napoleon III issues a decree +and the French go to Mexico. The King of Prussia and Bismarck issue +decrees and an army enters Bohemia. Napoleon I issues a decree and +an army enters Russia. Alexander I gives a command and the French +submit to the Bourbons. Experience shows us that whatever event occurs +it is always related to the will of one or of several men who have +decreed it. + +The historians, in accord with the old habit of acknowledging divine +intervention in human affairs, want to see the cause of events in +the expression of the will of someone endowed with power, but that +supposition is not confirmed either by reason or by experience. + +On the one side reflection shows that the expression of a man's +will- his words- are only part of the general activity expressed in an +event, as for instance in a war or a revolution, and so without +assuming an incomprehensible, supernatural force- a miracle- one +cannot admit that words can be the immediate cause of the movements of +millions of men. On the other hand, even if we admitted that words +could be the cause of events, history shows that the expression of the +will of historical personages does not in most cases produce any +effect, that is to say, their commands are often not executed, and +sometimes the very opposite of what they order occurs. + +Without admitting divine intervention in the affairs of humanity +we cannot regard "power" as the cause of events. + +Power, from the standpoint of experience, is merely the relation +that exists between the expression of someone's will and the execution +of that will by others. + +To explain the conditions of that relationship we must first +establish a conception of the expression of will, referring it to +man and not to the Deity. + +If the Deity issues a command, expresses His will, as ancient +history tells us, the expression of that will is independent of time +and is not caused by anything, for the Divinity is not controlled by +an event. But speaking of commands that are the expression of the will +of men acting in time and in relation to one another, to explain the +connection of commands with events we must restore: (1) the +condition of all that takes place: the continuity of movement in +time both of the events and of the person who commands, and (2) the +inevitability of the connection between the person commanding and +those who execute his command. + +CHAPTER VI + +Only the expression of the will of the Deity, not dependent on time, +can relate to a whole series of events occurring over a period of +years or centuries, and only the Deity, independent of everything, can +by His sole will determine the direction of humanity's movement; but +man acts in time and himself takes part in what occurs. + +Reinstating the first condition omitted, that of time, we see that +no command can be executed without some preceding order having been +given rendering the execution of the last command possible. + +No command ever appears spontaneously, or itself covers a whole +series of occurrences; but each command follows from another, and +never refers to a whole series of events but always to one moment only +of an event. + +When, for instance, we say that Napoleon ordered armies to go to +war, we combine in one simultaneous expression a whole series of +consecutive commands dependent one on another. Napoleon could not have +commanded an invasion of Russia and never did so. Today he ordered +such and such papers to be written to Vienna, to Berlin, and to +Petersburg; tomorrow such and such decrees and orders to the army, the +fleet, the commissariat, and so on and so on- millions of commands, +which formed a whole series corresponding to a series of events +which brought the French armies into Russia. + +If throughout his reign Napoleon gave commands concerning an +invasion of England and expended on no other undertaking so much +time and effort, and yet during his whole reign never once attempted +to execute that design but undertook an expedition into Russia, with +which country he considered it desirable to be in alliance (a +conviction he repeatedly expressed)- this came about because his +commands did not correspond to the course of events in the first case, +but did so correspond in the latter. + +For an order to be certainly executed, it is necessary that a man +should order what can be executed. But to know what can and what +cannot be executed is impossible, not only in the case of Napoleon's +invasion of Russia in which millions participated, but even in the +simplest event, for in either case millions of obstacles may arise +to prevent its execution. Every order executed is always one of an +immense number unexecuted. All the impossible orders inconsistent with +the course of events remain unexecuted. Only the possible ones get +linked up with a consecutive series of commands corresponding to a +series of events, and are executed. + +Our false conception that an event is caused by a command which +precedes it is due to the fact that when the event has taken place and +out of thousands of others those few commands which were consistent +with that event have been executed, we forget about the others that +were not executed because they could not be. Apart from that, the +chief source of our error in this matter is due to the fact that in +the historical accounts a whole series of innumerable, diverse, and +petty events, such for instance as all those which led the French +armies to Russia, is generalized into one event in accord with the +result produced by that series of events, and corresponding with +this generalization the whole series of commands is also generalized +into a single expression of will. + +We say that Napoleon wished to invade Russia and invaded it. In +reality in all Napoleon's activity we never find anything resembling +an expression of that wish, but find a series of orders, or +expressions of his will, very variously and indefinitely directed. +Amid a long series of unexecuted orders of Napoleon's one series, +for the campaign of 1812, was carried out- not because those orders +differed in any way from the other, unexecuted orders but because they +coincided with the course of events that led the French army into +Russia; just as in stencil work this or that figure comes out not +because the color was laid on from this side or in that way, but +because it was laid on from all sides over the figure cut in the +stencil. + +So that examining the relation in time of the commands to the +events, we find that a command can never be the cause of the event, +but that a certain definite dependence exists between the two. + +To understand in what this dependence consists it is necessary to +reinstate another omitted condition of every command proceeding not +from the Deity but from a man, which is, that the man who gives the +command himself takes part in + +This relation of the commander to those he commands is just what +is called power. This relation consists in the following: + +For common action people always unite in certain combinations, in +which regardless of the difference of the aims set for the common +action, the relation between those taking part in it is always the +same. + +Men uniting in these combinations always assume such relations +toward one another that the larger number take a more direct share, +and the smaller number a less direct share, in the collective action +for which they have combined. + +Of all the combinations in which men unite for collective action one +of the most striking and definite examples is an army. + +Every army is composed of lower grades of the service- the rank +and file- of whom there are always the greatest number; of the next +higher military rank- corporals and noncommissioned officers of whom +there are fewer, and of still-higher officers of whom there are +still fewer, and so on to the highest military command which is +concentrated in one person. + +A military organization may be quite correctly compared to a cone, +of which the base with the largest diameter consists of the rank and +file; the next higher and smaller section of the cone consists of +the next higher grades of the army, and so on to the apex, the point +of which will represent the commander in chief. + +The soldiers, of whom there are the most, form the lower section +of the cone and its base. The soldier himself does the stabbing, +hacking, burning, and pillaging, and always receives orders for +these actions from men above him; he himself never gives an order. The +noncommissioned officers (of whom there are fewer) perform the +action itself less frequently than the soldiers, but they already give +commands. An officer still less often acts directly himself, but +commands still more frequently. A general does nothing but command the +troops, indicates the objective, and hardly ever uses a weapon +himself. The commander in chief never takes direct part in the +action itself, but only gives general orders concerning the movement +of the mass of the troops. A similar relation of people to one another +is seen in every combination of men for common activity- in +agriculture, trade, and every administration. + +And so without particularly analyzing all the contiguous sections of +a cone and of the ranks of an army, or the ranks and positions in +any administrative or public business whatever from the lowest to +the highest, we see a law by which men, to take associated action, +combine in such relations that the more directly they participate in +performing the action the less they can command and the more +numerous they are, while the less their direct participation in the +action itself, the more they command and the fewer of them there +are; rising in this way from the lowest ranks to the man at the top, +who takes the least direct share in the action and directs his +activity chiefly to commanding. + +This relation of the men who command to those they command is what +constitutes the essence of the conception called power. + +Having restored the condition of time under which all events +occur, find that a command is executed only when it is related to a +corresponding series of events. Restoring the essential condition of +relation between those who command and those who execute, we find that +by the very nature of the case those who command take the smallest +part in the action itself and that their activity is exclusively +directed to commanding. + +CHAPTER VII + +When an event is taking place people express their opinions and +wishes about it, and as the event results from the collective activity +of many people, some one of the opinions or wishes expressed is sure +to be fulfilled if but approximately. When one of the opinions +expressed is fulfilled, that opinion gets connected with the event +as a command preceding it. + +Men are hauling a log. Each of them expresses his opinion as to +how and where to haul it. They haul the log away, and it happens +that this is done as one of them said. He ordered it. There we have +command and power in their primary form. The man who worked most +with his hands could not think so much about what he was doing, or +reflect on or command what would result from the common activity; +while the man who commanded more would evidently work less with his +hands on account of his greater verbal activity. + +When some larger concourse of men direct their activity to a +common aim there is a yet sharper division of those who, because their +activity is given to directing and commanding, take less less part +in the direct work. + +When a man works alone he always has a certain set of reflections +which as it seems to him directed his past activity, justify his +present activity, and guide him in planning his future actions. Just +the same is done by a concourse of people, allowing those who do not +take a direct part in the activity to devise considerations, +justifications, and surmises concerning their collective activity. + +For reasons known or unknown to us the French began to drown and +kill one another. And corresponding to the event its justification +appears in people's belief that this was necessary for the welfare +of France, for liberty, and for equality. People ceased to kill one +another, and this event was accompanied by its justification in the +necessity for a centralization of power, resistance to Europe, and +so on. Men went from the west to the east killing their fellow men, +and the event was accompanied by phrases about the glory of France, +the baseness of England, and so on. History shows us that these +justifications of the events have no common sense and are all +contradictory, as in the case of killing a man as the result of +recognizing his rights, and the killing of millions in Russia for +the humiliation of England. But these justifications have a very +necessary significance in their own day. + +These justifications release those who produce the events from moral +responsibility. These temporary aims are like the broom fixed in front +of a locomotive to clear the snow from the rails in front: they +clear men's moral responsibilities from their path. + +Without such justification there would be no reply to the simplest +question that presents itself when examining each historical event. +How is it that millions of men commit collective crimes- make war, +commit murder, and so on? + +With the present complex forms of political and social life in +Europe can any event that is not prescribed, decreed, or ordered by +monarchs, ministers, parliaments, or newspapers be imagined? Is +there any collective action which cannot find its justification in +political unity, in patriotism, in the balance of power, or in +civilization? So that every event that occurs inevitably coincides +with some expressed wish and, receiving a justification, presents +itself as the result of the will of one man or of several men. + +In whatever direction a ship moves, the flow of the waves it cuts +will always be noticeable ahead of it. To those on board the ship +the movement of those waves will be the only perceptible motion. + +Only by watching closely moment by moment the movement of that +flow and comparing it with the movement of the ship do we convince +ourselves that every bit of it is occasioned by the forward movement +of the ship, and that we were led into error by the fact that we +ourselves were imperceptibly moving. + +We see the same if we watch moment by moment the movement of +historical characters (that is, re-establish the inevitable +condition of all that occurs- the continuity of movement in time) +and do not lose sight of the essential connection of historical +persons with the masses. + +When the ship moves in one direction there is one and the same +wave ahead of it, when it turns frequently the wave ahead of it also +turns frequently. But wherever it may turn there always will be the +wave anticipating its movement. + +Whatever happens it always appears that just that event was foreseen +and decreed. Wherever the ship may go, the rush of water which neither +directs nor increases its movement foams ahead of it, and at a +distance seems to us not merely to move of itself but to govern the +ship's movement also. + +Examining only those expressions of the will of historical persons +which, as commands, were related to events, historians have assumed +that the events depended on those commands. But examining the events +themselves and the connection in which the historical persons stood to +the people, we have found that they and their orders were dependent on +events. The incontestable proof of this deduction is that, however +many commands were issued, the event does not take place unless +there are other causes for it, but as soon as an event occurs- be it +what it may- then out of all the continually expressed wishes of +different people some will always be found which by their meaning +and their time of utterance are related as commands to the events. + +Arriving at this conclusion we can reply directly and positively +to these two essential questions of history: + +(1) What is power? + +(2) What force produces the movement of the nations? + +(1) Power is the relation of a given person to other individuals, in +which the more this person expresses opinions, predictions, and +justifications of the collective action that is performed, the less is +his participation in that action. + +(2) The movement of nations is caused not by power, nor by +intellectual activity, nor even by a combination of the two as +historians have supposed, but by the activity of all the people who +participate in the events, and who always combine in such a way that +those taking the largest direct share in the event take on +themselves the least responsibility and vice versa. + +Morally the wielder of power appears to cause the event; +physically it is those who submit to the power. But as the moral +activity is inconceivable without the physical, the cause of the event +is neither in the one nor in the other but in the union of the two. + +Or in other words, the conception of a cause is inapplicable to +the phenomena we are examining. + +In the last analysis we reach the circle of infinity- that final +limit to which in every domain of thought man's reason arrives if it +is not playing with the subject. Electricity produces heat, heat +produces electricity. Atoms attract each other and atoms repel one +another. + +Speaking of the interaction of heat and electricity and of atoms, we +cannot say why this occurs, and we say that it is so because it is +inconceivable otherwise, because it must be so and that it is a law. +The same applies to historical events. Why war and revolution occur we +do not know. We only know that to produce the one or the other action, +people combine in a certain formation in which they all take part, and +we say that this is so because it is unthinkable otherwise, or in +other words that it is a law. + +CHAPTER VIII + +If history dealt only with external phenomena, the establishment +of this simple and obvious law would suffice and we should have +finished our argument. But the law of history relates to man. A +particle of matter cannot tell us that it does not feel the law of +attraction or repulsion and that that law is untrue, but man, who is +the subject of history, says plainly: I am free and am therefore not +subject to the law. + +The presence of the problem of man's free will, though +unexpressed, is felt at every step of history. + +All seriously thinking historians have involuntarily encountered +this question. All the contradictions and obscurities of history and +the false path historical science has followed are due solely to the +lack of a solution of that question. + +If the will of every man were free, that is, if each man could act +as he pleased, all history would be a series of disconnected +incidents. + +If in a thousand years even one man in a million could act freely, +that is, as he chose, it is evident that one single free act of that +man's in violation of the laws governing human action would destroy +the possibility of the existence of any laws for the whole of +humanity. + +If there be a single law governing the actions of men, free will +cannot exist, for then man's will is subject to that law. + +In this contradiction lies the problem of free will, which from most +ancient times has occupied the best human minds and from most +ancient times has been presented in its whole tremendous significance. + +The problem is that regarding man as a subject of observation from +whatever point of view- theological, historical, ethical, or +philosophic- we find a general law of necessity to which he (like +all that exists) is subject. But regarding him from within ourselves +as what we are conscious of, we feel ourselves to be free. + +This consciousness is a source of self-cognition quite apart from +and independent of reason. Through his reason man observes himself, +but only through consciousness does he know himself. + +Apart from consciousness of self no observation or application of +reason is conceivable. + +To understand, observe, and draw conclusions, man must first of +all be conscious of himself as living. A man is only conscious of +himself as a living being by the fact that he wills, that is, is +conscious of his volition. But his will- which forms the essence of +his life- man recognizes (and can but recognize) as free. + +If, observing himself, man sees that his will is always directed +by one and the same law (whether he observes the necessity of taking +food, using his brain, or anything else) he cannot recognize this +never-varying direction of his will otherwise than as a limitation +of it. Were it not free it could not be limited. A man's will seems to +him to be limited just because he is not conscious of it except as +free. + +You say: I am not and am not free. But I have lifted my hand and let +it fall. Everyone understands that this illogical reply is an +irrefutable demonstration of freedom. + +That reply is the expression of a consciousness that is not +subject to reason. + +If the consciousness of freedom were not a separate and +independent source of self-consciousness it would be subject to +reasoning and to experience, but in fact such subjection does not +exist and is inconceivable. + +A series of experiments and arguments proves to every man that he, +as an object of observation, is subject to certain laws, and man +submits to them and never resists the laws of gravity or +impermeability once he has become acquainted with them. But the same +series of experiments and arguments proves to him that the complete +freedom of which he is conscious in himself is impossible, and that +his every action depends on his organization, his character, and the +motives acting upon him; yet man never submits to the deductions of +these experiments and arguments. Having learned from experiment and +argument that a stone falls downwards, a man indubitably believes this +and always expects the law that he has learned to be fulfilled. + +But learning just as certainly that his will is subject to laws, +he does not and cannot believe this. + +However often experiment and reasoning may show a man that under the +same conditions and with the same character he will do the same +thing as before, yet when under the same conditions and with the +same character he approaches for the thousandth time the action that +always ends in the same way, he feels as certainly convinced as before +the experiment that he can act as he pleases. Every man, savage or +sage, however incontestably reason and experiment may prove to him +that it is impossible to imagine two different courses of action in +precisely the same conditions, feels that without this irrational +conception (which constitutes the essence of freedom) he cannot +imagine life. He feels that however impossible it may be, it is so, +for without this conception of freedom not only would he be unable +to understand life, but he would be unable to live for a single +moment. + +He could not live, because all man's efforts, all his impulses to +life, are only efforts to increase freedom. Wealth and poverty, fame +and obscurity, power and subordination, strength and weakness, +health and disease, culture and ignorance, work and leisure, repletion +and hunger, virtue and vice, are only greater or lesser degrees of +freedom. + +A man having no freedom cannot be conceived of except as deprived of +life. + +If the conception of freedom appears to reason to be a senseless +contradiction like the possibility of performing two actions at one +and the same instant of time, or of an effect without a cause, that +only proves that consciousness is not subject to reason. + +This unshakable, irrefutable consciousness of freedom, +uncontrolled by experiment or argument, recognized by all thinkers and +felt by everyone without exception, this consciousness without which +no conception of man is possible constitutes the other side of the +question. + +Man is the creation of an all-powerful, all-good, and all-seeing +God. What is sin, the conception of which arises from the +consciousness of man's freedom? That is a question for theology. + +The actions of men are subject to general immutable laws expressed +in statistics. What is man's responsibility to society, the conception +of which results from the conception of freedom? That is a question +for jurisprudence. + +Man's actions proceed from his innate character and the motives +acting upon him. What is conscience and the perception of right and +wrong in actions that follows from the consciousness of freedom? +That is a question for ethics. + +Man in connection with the general life of humanity appears +subject to laws which determine that life. But the same man apart from +that connection appears to free. How should the past life of nations +and of humanity be regarded- as the result of the free, or as the +result of the constrained, activity of man? That is a question for +history. + +Only in our self-confident day of the popularization of knowledge- +thanks to that most powerful engine of ignorance, the diffusion of +printed matter- has the question of the freedom of will been put on +a level on which the question itself cannot exist. In our time the +majority of so-called advanced people- that is, the crowd of +ignoramuses- have taken the work of the naturalists who deal with +one side of the question for a solution of the whole problem. + +They say and write and print that the soul and freedom do not exist, +for the life of man is expressed by muscular movements and muscular +movements are conditioned by the activity of the nerves; the soul +and free will do not exist because at an unknown period of time we +sprang from the apes. They say this, not at all suspecting that +thousands of years ago that same law of necessity which with such +ardor they are now trying to prove by physiology and comparative +zoology was not merely acknowledged by all the religions and all the +thinkers, but has never been denied. They do not see that the role +of the natural sciences in this matter is merely to serve as an +instrument for the illumination of one side of it. For the fact +that, from the point of view of observation, reason and the will are +merely secretions of the brain, and that man following the general law +may have developed from lower animals at some unknown period of +time, only explains from a fresh side the truth admitted thousands +of years ago by all the religious and philosophic theories- that +from the point of view of reason man is subject to the law of +necessity; but it does not advance by a hair's breadth the solution of +the question, which has another, opposite, side, based on the +consciousness of freedom. + +If men descended from the apes at an unknown period of time, that is +as comprehensible as that they were made from a handful of earth at +a certain period of time (in the first case the unknown quantity is +the time, in the second case it is the origin); and the question of +how man's consciousness of freedom is to be reconciled with the law of +necessity to which he is subject cannot be solved by comparative +physiology and zoology, for in a frog, a rabbit, or an ape, we can +observe only the muscular nervous activity, but in man we observe +consciousness as well as the muscular and nervous activity. + +The naturalists and their followers, thinking they can solve this +question, are like plasterers set to plaster one side of the walls +of a church who, availing themselves of the absence of the chief +superintendent of the work, should in an access of zeal plaster over +the windows, icons, woodwork, and still unbuttressed walls, and should +be delighted that from their point of view as plasterers, everything +is now so smooth and regular. + +CHAPTER IX + +For the solution of the question of free will or inevitability, +history has this advantage over other branches of knowledge in which +the question is dealt with, that for history this question does not +refer to the essence of man's free will but its manifestation in the +past and under certain conditions. + +In regard to this question, history stands to the other sciences +as experimental science stands to abstract science. + +The subject for history is not man's will itself but our +presentation of it. + +And so for history, the insoluble mystery presented by the +incompatibility of free will and inevitability does not exist as it +does for theology, ethics, and philosophy. History surveys a +presentation of man's life in which the union of these two +contradictions has already taken place. + +In actual life each historic event, each human action, is very +clearly and definitely understood without any sense of +contradiction, although each event presents itself as partly free +and partly compulsory. + +To solve the question of how freedom and necessity are combined +and what constitutes the essence of these two conceptions, the +philosophy of history can and should follow a path contrary to that +taken by other sciences. Instead of first defining the conceptions +of freedom and inevitability in themselves, and then ranging the +phenomena of life under those definitions, history should deduce a +definition of the conception of freedom and inevitability themselves +from the immense quantity of phenomena of which it is cognizant and +that always appear dependent on these two elements. + +Whatever presentation of the activity of many men or of an +individual we may consider, we always regard it as the result partly +of man's free will and partly of the law of inevitability. + +Whether we speak of the migration of the peoples and the +incursions of the barbarians, or of the decrees of Napoleon III, or of +someone's action an hour ago in choosing one direction out of +several for his walk, we are unconscious of any contradiction. The +degree of freedom and inevitability governing the actions of these +people is clearly defined for us. + +Our conception of the degree of freedom often varies according to +differences in the point of view from which we regard the event, but +every human action appears to us as a certain combination of freedom +and inevitability. In every action we examine we see a certain measure +of freedom and a certain measure of inevitability. And always the more +freedom we see in any action the less inevitability do we perceive, +and the more inevitability the less freedom. + +The proportion of freedom to inevitability decreases and increases +according to the point of view from which the action is regarded, +but their relation is always one of inverse proportion. + +A sinking man who clutches at another and drowns him; or a hungry +mother exhausted by feeding her baby, who steals some food; or a man +trained to discipline who on duty at the word of command kills a +defenseless man- seem less guilty, that is, less free and more subject +to the law of necessity, to one who knows the circumstances in which +these people were placed, and more free to one who does not know +that the man was himself drowning, that the mother was hungry, that +the soldier was in the ranks, and so on. Similarly a man who committed +a murder twenty years ago and has since lived peaceably and harmlessly +in society seems less guilty and his action more due to the law of +inevitability, to someone who considers his action after twenty +years have elapsed than to one who examined it the day after it was +committed. And in the same way every action of an insane, intoxicated, +or highly excited man appears less free and more inevitable to one who +knows the mental condition of him who committed the action, and +seems more free and less inevitable to one who does not know it. In +all these cases the conception of freedom is increased or diminished +and the conception of compulsion is correspondingly decreased or +increased, according to the point of view from which the action is +regarded. So that the greater the conception of necessity the +smaller the conception of freedom and vice versa. + +Religion, the common sense of mankind, the science of jurisprudence, +and history itself understand alike this relation between necessity +and freedom. + +All cases without exception in which our conception of freedom and +necessity is increased and diminished depend on three considerations: + +(1) The relation to the external world of the man who commits the +deeds. + +(2) His relation to time. + +(3) His relation to the causes leading to the action. + +The first consideration is the clearness of our perception of the +man's relation to the external world and the greater or lesser +clearness of our understanding of the definite position occupied by +the man in relation to everything coexisting with him. This is what +makes it evident that a drowning man is less free and more subject +to necessity than one standing on dry ground, and that makes the +actions of a man closely connected with others in a thickly +populated district, or of one bound by family, official, or business +duties, seem certainly less free and more subject to necessity than +those of a man living in solitude and seclusion. + +If we consider a man alone, apart from his relation to everything +around him, each action of his seems to us free. But if we see his +relation to anything around him, if we see his connection with +anything whatever- with a man who speaks to him, a book he reads, +the work on which he is engaged, even with the air he breathes or +the light that falls on the things about him- we see that each of +these circumstances has an influence on him and controls at least some +side of his activity. And the more we perceive of these influences the +more our conception of his freedom diminishes and the more our +conception of the necessity that weighs on him increases. + +The second consideration is the more or less evident time relation +of the man to the world and the clearness of our perception of the +place the man's action occupies in time. That is the ground which +makes the fall of the first man, resulting in the production of the +human race, appear evidently less free than a man's entry into +marriage today. It is the reason why the life and activity of people +who lived centuries ago and are connected with me in time cannot +seem to me as free as the life of a contemporary, the consequences +of which are still unknown to me. + +The degree of our conception of freedom or inevitability depends +in this respect on the greater or lesser lapse of time between the +performance of the action and our judgment of it. + +If I examine an act I performed a moment ago in approximately the +same circumstances as those I am in now, my action appears to me +undoubtedly free. But if I examine an act performed a month ago, +then being in different circumstances, I cannot help recognizing +that if that act had not been committed much that resulted from it- +good, agreeable, and even essential- would not have taken place. If +I reflect on an action still more remote, ten years ago or more, +then the consequences of my action are still plainer to me and I +find it hard to imagine what would have happened had that action not +been performed. The farther I go back in memory, or what is the same +thing the farther I go forward in my judgment, the more doubtful +becomes my belief in the freedom of my action. + +In history we find a very similar progress of conviction +concerning the part played by free will in the general affairs of +humanity. A contemporary event seems to us to be indubitably the doing +of all the known participants, but with a more remote event we already +see its inevitable results which prevent our considering anything else +possible. And the farther we go back in examining events the less +arbitrary do they appear. + +The Austro-Prussian war appears to us undoubtedly the result of +the crafty conduct of Bismarck, and so on. The Napoleonic wars still +seem to us, though already questionably, to be the outcome of their +heroes' will. But in the Crusades we already see an event occupying +its definite place in history and without which we cannot imagine +the modern history of Europe, though to the chroniclers of the +Crusades that event appeared as merely due to the will of certain +people. In regard to the migration of the peoples it does not enter +anyone's head today to suppose that the renovation of the European +world depended on Attila's caprice. The farther back in history the +object of our observation lies, the more doubtful does the free will +of those concerned in the event become and the more manifest the law +of inevitability. + +The third consideration is the degree to which we apprehend that +endless chain of causation inevitably demanded by reason, in which +each phenomenon comprehended, and therefore man's every action, must +have its definite place as a result of what has gone before and as a +cause of what will follow. + +The better we are acquainted with the physiological, +psychological, and historical laws deduced by observation and by which +man is controlled, and the more correctly we perceive the +physiological, psychological, and historical causes of the action, and +the simpler the action we are observing and the less complex the +character and mind of the man in question, the more subject to +inevitability and the less free do our actions and those of others +appear. + +When we do not at all understand the cause of an action, whether a +crime, a good action, or even one that is simply nonmoral, we +ascribe a greater amount of freedom to it. In the case of a crime we +most urgently demand the punishment for such an act; in the case of +a virtuous act we rate its merit most highly. In an indifferent case +we recognize in it more individuality, originality, and +independence. But if even one of the innumerable causes of the act +is known to us we recognize a certain element of necessity and are +less insistent on punishment for the crime, or the acknowledgment of +the merit of the virtuous act, or the freedom of the apparently +original action. That a criminal was reared among male factors +mitigates his fault in our eyes. The self-sacrifice of a father or +mother, or self-sacrifice with the possibility of a reward, is more +comprehensible than gratuitous self-sacrifice, and therefore seems +less deserving of sympathy and less the result of free will. The +founder of a sect or party, or an inventor, impresses us less when +we know how or by what the way was prepared for his activity. If we +have a large range of examples, if our observation is constantly +directed to seeking the correlation of cause and effect in people's +actions, their actions appear to us more under compulsion and less +free the more correctly we connect the effects with the causes. If +we examined simple actions and had a vast number of such actions under +observation, our conception of their inevitability would be still +greater. The dishonest conduct of the son of a dishonest father, the +misconduct of a woman who had fallen into bad company, a drunkard's +relapse into drunkenness, and so on are actions that seem to us less +free the better we understand their cause. If the man whose actions we +are considering is on a very low stage of mental development, like a +child, a madman, or a simpleton- then, knowing the causes of the act +and the simplicity of the character and intelligence in question, we +see so large an element of necessity and so little free will that as +soon as we know the cause prompting the action we can foretell the +result. + +On these three considerations alone is based the conception of +irresponsibility for crimes and the extenuating circumstances admitted +by all legislative codes. The responsibility appears greater or less +according to our greater or lesser knowledge of the circumstances in +which the man was placed whose action is being judged, and according +to the greater or lesser interval of time between the commission of +the action and its investigation, and according to the greater or +lesser understanding of the causes that led to the action. + +CHAPTER X + +Thus our conception of free will and inevitability gradually +diminishes or increases according to the greater or lesser +connection with the external world, the greater or lesser remoteness +of time, and the greater or lesser dependence on the causes in +relation to which we contemplate a man's life. + +So that if we examine the case of a man whose connection with the +external world is well known, where the time between the action and +its examination is great, and where the causes of the action are +most accessible, we get the conception of a maximum of inevitability +and a minimum of free will. If we examine a man little dependent on +external conditions, whose action was performed very recently, and the +causes of whose action are beyond our ken, we get the conception of +a minimum of inevitability and a maximum of freedom. + +In neither case- however we may change our point of view, however +plain we may make to ourselves the connection between the man and +the external world, however inaccessible it may be to us, however long +or short the period of time, however intelligible or +incomprehensible the causes of the action may be- can we ever conceive +either complete freedom or complete necessity. + +(1) To whatever degree we may imagine a man to be exempt from the +influence of the external world, we never get a conception of +freedom in space. Every human action is inevitably conditioned by what +surrounds him and by his own body. I lift my arm and let it fall. My +action seems to me free; but asking myself whether I could raise my +arm in every direction, I see that I raised it in the direction in +which there was least obstruction to that action either from things +around me or from the construction of my own body. I chose one out +of all the possible directions because in it there were fewest +obstacles. For my action to be free it was necessary that it should +encounter no obstacles. To conceive of a man being free we must +imagine him outside space, which is evidently impossible. + +(2) However much we approximate the time of judgment to the time +of the deed, we never get a conception of freedom in time. For if I +examine an action committed a second ago I must still recognize it +as not being free, for it is irrevocably linked to the moment at which +it was committed. Can I lift my arm? I lift it, but ask myself: +could I have abstained from lifting my arm at the moment that has +already passed? To convince myself of this I do not lift it the next +moment. But I am not now abstaining from doing so at the first +moment when I asked the question. Time has gone by which I could not +detain, the arm I then lifted is no longer the same as the arm I now +refrain from lifting, nor is the air in which I lifted it the same +that now surrounds me. The moment in which the first movement was made +is irrevocable, and at that moment I could make only one movement, and +whatever movement I made would be the only one. That I did not lift my +arm a moment later does not prove that I could have abstained from +lifting it then. And since I could make only one movement at that +single moment of time, it could not have been any other. To imagine it +as free, it is necessary to imagine it in the present, on the boundary +between the past and the future- that is, outside time, which is +impossible. + +(3) However much the difficulty of understanding the causes may be +increased, we never reach a conception of complete freedom, that is, +an absence of cause. However inaccessible to us may be the cause of +the expression of will in any action, our own or another's, the +first demand of reason is the assumption of and search for a cause, +for without a cause no phenomenon is conceivable. I raise my arm to +perform an action independently of any cause, but my wish to perform +an action without a cause is the cause of my action. + +But even if- imagining a man quite exempt from all influences, +examining only his momentary action in the present, unevoked by any +cause- we were to admit so infinitely small a remainder of +inevitability as equaled zero, we should even then not have arrived at +the conception of complete freedom in man, for a being uninfluenced by +the external world, standing outside of time and independent of cause, +is no longer a man. + +In the same way we can never imagine the action of a man quite +devoid of freedom and entirely subject to the law of inevitability. + +(1) However we may increase our knowledge of the conditions of space +in which man is situated, that knowledge can never be complete, for +the number of those conditions is as infinite as the infinity of +space. And therefore so long as not all the conditions influencing men +are defined, there is no complete inevitability but a certain +measure of freedom remains. + +(2) However we may prolong the period of time between the action +we are examining and the judgment upon it, that period will be finite, +while time is infinite, and so in this respect too there can never +be absolute inevitability. + +(3) However accessible may be the chain of causation of any +action, we shall never know the whole chain since it is endless, and +so again we never reach absolute inevitability. + +But besides this, even if, admitting the remaining minimum of +freedom to equal zero, we assumed in some given case- as for +instance in that of a dying man, an unborn babe, or an idiot- complete +absence of freedom, by so doing we should destroy the very +conception of man in the case we are examining, for as soon as there +is no freedom there is also no man. And so the conception of the +action of a man subject solely to the law of inevitability without any +element of freedom is just as impossible as the conception of a +man's completely free action. + +And so to imagine the action of a man entirely subject to the law of +inevitability without any freedom, we must assume the knowledge of +an infinite number of space relations, an infinitely long period of +time, and an infinite series of causes. + +To imagine a man perfectly free and not subject to the law of +inevitability, we must imagine him all alone, beyond space, beyond +time, and free from dependence on cause. + +In the first case, if inevitability were possible without freedom we +should have reached a definition of inevitability by the laws of +inevitability itself, that is, a mere form without content. + +In the second case, if freedom were possible without inevitability +we should have arrived at unconditioned freedom beyond space, time, +and cause, which by the fact of its being unconditioned and +unlimited would be nothing, or mere content without form. + +We should in fact have reached those two fundamentals of which man's +whole outlook on the universe is constructed- the incomprehensible +essence of life, and the laws defining that essence. + +Reason says: (1) space with all the forms of matter that give it +visibility is infinite, and cannot be imagined otherwise. (2) Time +is infinite motion without a moment of rest and is unthinkable +otherwise. (3) The connection between cause and effect has no +beginning and can have no end. + +Consciousness says: (1) I alone am, and all that exists is but me, +consequently I include space. (2) I measure flowing time by the +fixed moment of the present in which alone I am conscious of myself as +living, consequently I am outside time. (3) I am beyond cause, for I +feel myself to be the cause of every manifestation of my life. + +Reason gives expression to the laws of inevitability. +Consciousness gives expression to the essence of freedom. + +Freedom not limited by anything is the essence of life, in man's +consciousness. Inevitability without content is man's reason in its +three forms. + +Freedom is the thing examined. Inevitability is what examines. +Freedom is the content. Inevitability is the form. + +Only by separating the two sources of cognition, related to one +another as form to content, do we get the mutually exclusive and +separately incomprehensible conceptions of freedom and inevitability. + +Only by uniting them do we get a clear conception of man's life. + +Apart from these two concepts which in their union mutually define +one another as form and content, no conception of life is possible. + +All that we know of the life of man is merely a certain relation +of free will to inevitability, that is, of consciousness to the laws +of reason. + +All that we know of the external world of nature is only a certain +relation of the forces of nature to inevitability, or of the essence +of life to the laws of reason. + +The great natural forces lie outside us and we are not conscious +of them; we call those forces gravitation, inertia, electricity, +animal force, and so on, but we are conscious of the force of life +in man and we call that freedom. + +But just as the force of gravitation, incomprehensible in itself but +felt by every man, is understood by us only to the extent to which +we know the laws of inevitability to which it is subject (from the +first knowledge that all bodies have weight, up to Newton's law), so +too the force of free will, incomprehensible in itself but of which +everyone is conscious, is intelligible to us only in as far as we know +the laws of inevitability to which it is subject (from the fact that +every man dies, up to the knowledge of the most complex economic and +historic laws). + +All knowledge is merely a bringing of this essence of life under the +laws of reason. + +Man's free will differs from every other force in that man is +directly conscious of it, but in the eyes of reason it in no way +differs from any other force. The forces of gravitation, +electricity, or chemical affinity are only distinguished from one +another in that they are differently defined by reason. Just so the +force of man's free will is distinguished by reason from the other +forces of nature only by the definition reason gives it. Freedom, +apart from necessity, that is, apart from the laws of reason that +define it, differs in no way from gravitation, or heat, or the force +that makes things grow; for reason, it is only a momentary undefinable +sensation of life. + +And as the undefinable essence of the force moving the heavenly +bodies, the undefinable essence of the forces of heat and electricity, +or of chemical affinity, or of the vital force, forms the content of +astronomy, physics, chemistry, botany, zoology, and so on, just in the +same way does the force of free will form the content of history. +But just as the subject of every science is the manifestation of +this unknown essence of life while that essence itself can only be the +subject of metaphysics, even the manifestation of the force of free +will in human beings in space, in time, and in dependence on cause +forms the subject of history, while free will itself is the subject of +metaphysics. + +In the experimental sciences what we know we call the laws of +inevitability, what is unknown to us we call vital force. Vital +force is only an expression for the unknown remainder over and above +what we know of the essence of life. + +So also in history what is known to us we call laws of +inevitability, what is unknown we call free will. Free will is for +history only an expression for the unknown remainder of what we know +about the laws of human life. + +CHAPTER XI + +History examines the manifestations of man's free will in connection +with the external world in time and in dependence on cause, that is, +it defines this freedom by the laws of reason, and so history is a +science only in so far as this free will is defined by those laws. + +The recognition of man's free will as something capable of +influencing historical events, that is, as not subject to laws, is the +same for history as the recognition of a free force moving the +heavenly bodies would be for astronomy. + +That assumption would destroy the possibility of the existence of +laws, that is, of any science whatever. If there is even a single body +moving freely, then the laws of Kepler and Newton are negatived and no +conception of the movement of the heavenly bodies any longer exists. +If any single action is due to free will, then not a single historical +law can exist, nor any conception of historical events. + +For history, lines exist of the movement of human wills, one end +of which is hidden in the unknown but at the other end of which a +consciousness of man's will in the present moves in space, time, and +dependence on cause. + +The more this field of motion spreads out before our eyes, the +more evident are the laws of that movement. To discover and define +those laws is the problem of history. + +From the standpoint from which the science of history now regards +its subject on the path it now follows, seeking the causes of events +in man's freewill, a scientific enunciation of those laws is +impossible, for however man's free will may be restricted, as soon +as we recognize it as a force not subject to law, the existence of law +becomes impossible. + +Only by reducing this element of free will to the infinitesimal, +that is, by regarding it as an infinitely small quantity, can we +convince ourselves of the absolute inaccessibility of the causes, +and then instead of seeking causes, history will take the discovery of +laws as its problem. + +The search for these laws has long been begun and the new methods of +thought which history must adopt are being worked out simultaneously +with the self-destruction toward which- ever dissecting and dissecting +the causes of phenomena- the old method of history is moving. + +All human sciences have traveled along that path. Arriving at +infinitesimals, mathematics, the most exact of sciences, abandons +the process of analysis and enters on the new process of the +integration of unknown, infinitely small, quantities. Abandoning the +conception of cause, mathematics seeks law, that is, the property +common to all unknown, infinitely small, elements. + +In another form but along the same path of reflection the other +sciences have proceeded. When Newton enunciated the law of gravity +he did not say that the sun or the earth had a property of attraction; +he said that all bodies from the largest to the smallest have the +property of attracting one another, that is, leaving aside the +question of the cause of the movement of the bodies, he expressed +the property common to all bodies from the infinitely large to the +infinitely small. The same is done by the natural sciences: leaving +aside the question of cause, they seek for laws. History stands on the +same path. And if history has for its object the study of the movement +of the nations and of humanity and not the narration of episodes in +the lives of individuals, it too, setting aside the conception of +cause, should seek the laws common to all the inseparably +interconnected infinitesimal elements of free will. + +CHAPTER XII + +From the time the law of Copernicus was discovered and proved, the +mere recognition of the fact that it was not the sun but the earth +that moves sufficed to destroy the whole cosmography of the +ancients. By disproving that law it might have been possible to retain +the old conception of the movements of the bodies, but without +disproving it, it would seem impossible to continue studying the +Ptolemaic worlds. But even after the discovery of the law of +Copernicus the Ptolemaic worlds were still studied for a long time. + +From the time the first person said and proved that the number of +births or of crimes is subject to mathematical laws, and that this +or that mode of government is determined by certain geographical and +economic conditions, and that certain relations of population to +soil produce migrations of peoples, the foundations on which history +had been built were destroyed in their essence. + +By refuting these new laws the former view of history might have +been retained; but without refuting them it would seem impossible to +continue studying historic events as the results of man's free will. +For if a certain mode of government was established or certain +migrations of peoples took place in consequence of such and such +geographic, ethnographic, or economic conditions, then the free will +of those individuals who appear to us to have established that mode of +government or occasioned the migrations can no longer be regarded as +the cause. + +And yet the former history continues to be studied side by side with +the laws of statistics, geography, political economy, comparative +philology, and geology, which directly contradict its assumptions. + +The struggle between the old views and the new was long and +stubbornly fought out in physical philosophy. Theology stood on +guard for the old views and accused the new of violating revelation. +But when truth conquered, theology established itself just as firmly +on the new foundation. + +Just as prolonged and stubborn is the struggle now proceeding +between the old and the new conception of history, and theology in the +same way stands on guard for the old view, and accuses the new view of +subverting revelation. + +In the one case as in the other, on both sides the struggle provokes +passion and stifles truth. On the one hand there is fear and regret +for the loss of the whole edifice constructed through the ages, on the +other is the passion for destruction. + +To the men who fought against the rising truths of physical +philosophy, it seemed that if they admitted that truth it would +destroy faith in God, in the creation of the firmament, and in the +miracle of Joshua the son of Nun. To the defenders of the laws of +Copernicus and Newton, to Voltaire for example, it seemed that the +laws of astronomy destroyed religion, and he utilized the law of +gravitation as a weapon against religion. + +Just so it now seems as if we have only to admit the law of +inevitability, to destroy the conception of the soul, of good and +evil, and all the institutions of state and church that have been +built up on those conceptions. + +So too, like Voltaire in his time, uninvited defenders of the law of +inevitability today use that law as a weapon against religion, +though the law of inevitability in history, like the law of Copernicus +in astronomy, far from destroying, even strengthens the foundation +on which the institutions of state and church are erected. + +As in the question of astronomy then, so in the question of +history now, the whole difference of opinion is based on the +recognition or nonrecognition of something absolute, serving as the +measure of visible phenomena. In astronomy it was the immovability +of the earth, in history it is the independence of personality- free +will. + +As with astronomy the difficulty of recognizing the motion of the +earth lay in abandoning the immediate sensation of the earth's +fixity and of the motion of the planets, so in history the +difficulty of recognizing the subjection of personality to the laws of +space, time, and cause lies in renouncing the direct feeling of the +independence of one's own personality. But as in astronomy the new +view said: "It is true that we do not feel the movement of the +earth, but by admitting its immobility we arrive at absurdity, while +by admitting its motion (which we do not feel) we arrive at laws," +so also in history the new view says: "It is true that we are not +conscious of our dependence, but by admitting our free will we +arrive at absurdity, while by admitting our dependence on the external +world, on time, and on cause, we arrive at laws." + +In the first case it was necessary to renounce the consciousness +of an unreal immobility in space and to recognize a motion we did +not feel; in the present case it is similarly necessary to renounce +a freedom that does not exist, and to recognize a dependence of +which we are not conscious. + +% Notes: +% SiSU: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu +% SiSU markup for 0.16 and later +% SiSU markup: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample +% Output: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy +% Markup: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample/markup/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst +% Syntax: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample/syntax/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst.html |