Book One: 1805 - Chapter XXI

by Leo Tolstoy

　　While in the Rostovs' ballroom the sixth anglaise was beingdanced, to a tune in which the weary musicians blundered, and whiletired footmen and cooks were getting the supper, Count Bezukhov hada sixth stroke. The doctors pronounced recovery impossible. After amute confession, communion was administered to the dying man,preparations made for the sacrament of unction, and in his house therewas the bustle and thrill of suspense usual at such moments. Outsidethe house, beyond the gates, a group of undertakers, who hidwhenever a carriage drove up, waited in expectation of an importantorder for an expensive funeral. The Military Governor of Moscow, whohad been assiduous in sending aides-de-camp to inquire after thecount's health, came himself that evening to bid a last farewell tothe celebrated grandee of Catherine's court, Count Bezukhov.

　　The magnificent reception room was crowded. Everyone stood uprespectfully when the Military Governor, having stayed about half anhour alone with the dying man, passed out, slightly acknowledgingtheir bows and trying to escape as quickly as from the glances fixedon him by the doctors, clergy, and relatives of the family. PrinceVasili, who had grown thinner and paler during the last few days,escorted him to the door, repeating something to him several timesin low tones.

　　When the Military Governor had gone, Prince Vasili sat down allalone on a chair in the ballroom, crossing one leg high over theother, leaning his elbow on his knee and covering his face with hishand. After sitting so for a while he rose, and, looking about himwith frightened eyes, went with unusually hurried steps down thelong corridor leading to the back of the house, to the room of theeldest princess.

　　Those who were in the dimly lit reception room spoke in nervouswhispers, and, whenever anyone went into or came from the dyingman's room, grew silent and gazed with eyes full of curiosity orexpectancy at his door, which creaked slightly when opened.

　　"The limits of human life... are fixed and may not be o'erpassed,"said an old priest to a lady who had taken a seat beside him and waslistening naively to his words.

　　"I wonder, is it not too late to administer unction?" asked thelady, adding the priest's clerical title, as if she had no opinionof her own on the subject.

　　"Ah, madam, it is a great sacrament, "replied the priest, passinghis hand over the thin grizzled strands of hair combed back across hisbald head.

　　"Who was that? The Military Governor himself?" was being asked atthe other side of the room. "How young-looking he is!"

　　"Yes, and he is over sixty. I hear the count no longer recognizesanyone. They wished to administer the sacrament of unction."

　　"I knew someone who received that sacrament seven times."

　　The second princess had just come from the sickroom with her eyesred from weeping and sat down beside Dr. Lorrain, who was sitting in agraceful pose under a portrait of Catherine, leaning his elbow on atable.

　　"Beautiful," said the doctor in answer to a remark about theweather. "The weather is beautiful, Princess; and besides, in Moscowone feels as if one were in the country."

　　"Yes, indeed," replied the princess with a sigh. "So he may havesomething to drink?"

　　Lorrain considered.

　　"Has he taken his medicine?"

　　"Yes."

　　The doctor glanced at his watch.

　　"Take a glass of boiled water and put a pinch of cream of tartar,"and he indicated with his delicate fingers what he meant by a pinch.

　　"Dere has neffer been a gase," a German doctor was saying to anaide-de-camp, "dat one liffs after de sird stroke."

　　"And what a well-preserved man he was!" remarked the aide-de-camp."And who will inherit his wealth?" he added in a whisper.

　　"It von't go begging," replied the German with a smile.

　　Everyone again looked toward the door, which creaked as the secondprincess went in with the drink she had prepared according toLorrain's instructions. The German doctor went up to Lorrain.

　　"Do you think he can last till morning?" asked the German,addressing Lorrain in French which he pronounced badly.

　　Lorrain, pursing up his lips, waved a severely negative fingerbefore his nose.

　　"Tonight, not later," said he in a low voice, and he moved away witha decorous smile of self-satisfaction at being able clearly tounderstand and state the patient's condition.

　　Meanwhile Prince Vasili had opened the door into the princess' room.

　　In this room it was almost dark; only two tiny lamps were burningbefore the icons and there was a pleasant scent of flowers and burntpastilles. The room was crowded with small pieces of furniture,whatnots, cupboards, and little tables. The quilt of a high, whitefeather bed was just visible behind a screen. A small dog began tobark.

　　"Ah, is it you, cousin?"

　　She rose and smoothed her hair, which was as usual so extremelysmooth that it seemed to be made of one piece with her head andcovered with varnish.

　　"Has anything happened?" she asked. "I am so terrified."

　　"No, there is no change. I only came to have a talk aboutbusiness, Catiche,"* muttered the prince, seating himself wearily onthe chair she had just vacated. "You have made the place warm, Imust say," he remarked. "Well, sit down: let's have a talk."

　　*Catherine.

　　"I thought perhaps something had happened," she said with herunchanging stonily severe expression; and, sitting down opposite theprince, she prepared to listen.

　　"I wished to get a nap, mon cousin, but I can't."

　　"Well, my dear?" said Prince Vasili, taking her hand and bendingit downwards as was his habit.

　　It was plain that this "well?" referred to much that they bothunderstood without naming.

　　The princess, who had a straight, rigid body, abnormally long forher legs, looked directly at Prince Vasili with no sign of emotionin her prominent gray eyes. Then she shook her head and glanced upat the icons with a sigh. This might have been taken as anexpression of sorrow and devotion, or of weariness and hope of restingbefore long. Prince Vasili understood it as an expression ofweariness.

　　"And I?" he said; "do you think it is easier for me? I am as wornout as a post horse, but still I must have a talk with you, Catiche, avery serious talk."

　　Prince Vasili said no more and his cheeks began to twitch nervously,now on one side, now on the other, giving his face an unpleasantexpression which was never to be seen on it in a drawing room. Hiseyes too seemed strange; at one moment they looked impudently slyand at the next glanced round in alarm.

　　The princess, holding her little dog on her lap with her thin bonyhands, looked attentively into Prince Vasili's eyes evidently resolvednot to be the first to break silence, if she had to wait till morning.

　　"Well, you see, my dear princess and cousin, Catherine Semenovna,"continued Prince Vasili, returning to his theme, apparently notwithout an inner struggle; "at such a moment as this one must think ofeverything. One must think of the future, of all of you... I loveyou all, like children of my own, as you know."

　　The princess continued to look at him without moving, and with thesame dull expression.

　　"And then of course my family has also to be considered," PrinceVasili went on, testily pushing away a little table without looking ather. "You know, Catiche, that we- you three sisters, Mamontov, andmy wife- are the count's only direct heirs. I know, I know how hard itis for you to talk or think of such matters. It is no easier for me;but, my dear, I am getting on for sixty and must be prepared foranything. Do you know I have sent for Pierre? The count," pointingto his portrait, "definitely demanded that he should be called."

　　Prince Vasili looked questioningly at the princess, but could notmake out whether she was considering what he had just said orwhether she was simply looking at him.

　　"There is one thing I constantly pray God to grant, mon cousin," shereplied, "and it is that He would be merciful to him and would allowhis noble soul peacefully to leave this..."

　　"Yes, yes, of course," interrupted Prince Vasili impatiently,rubbing his bald head and angrily pulling back toward him the littletable that he had pushed away. "But... in short, the fact is... youknow yourself that last winter the count made a will by which heleft all his property, not to us his direct heirs, but to Pierre."

　　"He has made wills enough!" quietly remarked the princess. "But hecannot leave the estate to Pierre. Pierre is illegitimate."

　　"But, my dear," said Prince Vasili suddenly, clutching the littletable and becoming more animated and talking more rapidly: "what ifa letter has been written to the Emperor in which the count asks forPierre's legitimation? Do you understand that in consideration ofthe count's services, his request would be granted?..."

　　The princess smiled as people do who think they know more aboutthe subject under discussion than those they are talking with.

　　"I can tell you more," continued Prince Vasili, seizing her hand,"that letter was written, though it was not sent, and the Emperor knewof it. The only question is, has it been destroyed or not? If not,then as soon as all is over," and Prince Vasili sighed to intimatewhat he meant by the words all is over, "and the count's papers areopened, the will and letter will be delivered to the Emperor, andthe petition will certainly be granted. Pierre will get everythingas the legitimate son."

　　"And our share?" asked the princess smiling ironically, as ifanything might happen, only not that.

　　"But, my poor Catiche, it is as clear as daylight! He will then bethe legal heir to everything and you won't get anything. You mustknow, my dear, whether the will and letter were written, and whetherthey have been destroyed or not. And if they have somehow beenoverlooked, you ought to know where they are, and must find them,because..."

　　"What next?" the princess interrupted, smiling sardonically andnot changing the expression of her eyes. "I am a woman, and youthink we are all stupid; but I know this: an illegitimate son cannotinherit... un batard!"* she added, as if supposing that thistranslation of the word would effectively prove to Prince Vasili theinvalidity of his contention.

　　*A bastard.

　　"Well, really, Catiche! Can't you understand! You are sointelligent, how is it you don't see that if the count has written aletter to the Emperor begging him to recognize Pierre as legitimate,it follows that Pierre will not be Pierre but will become CountBezukhov, and will then inherit everything under the will? And ifthe will and letter are not destroyed, then you will have nothingbut the consolation of having been dutiful et tout ce qui s'ensuit!*That's certain."

　　*And all that follows therefrom.

　　"I know the will was made, but I also know that it is invalid; andyou, mon cousin, seem to consider me a perfect fool," said theprincess with the expression women assume when they suppose they aresaying something witty and stinging.

　　"My dear Princess Catherine Semenovna," began Prince Vasiliimpatiently, "I came here not to wrangle with you, but to talk aboutyour interests as with a kinswoman, a good, kind, true relation. And Itell you for the tenth time that if the letter to the Emperor andthe will in Pierre's favor are among the count's papers, then, my deargirl, you and your sisters are not heiresses! If you don't believe me,then believe an expert. I have just been talking to Dmitri Onufrich"(the family solicitor) "and he says the same."

　　At this a sudden change evidently took place in the princess' ideas;her thin lips grew white, though her eyes did not change, and hervoice when she began to speak passed through such transitions as sheherself evidently did not expect.

　　"That would be a fine thing!" said she. "I never wanted anything andI don't now."

　　She pushed the little dog off her lap and smoothed her dress.

　　"And this is gratitude- this is recognition for those who havesacrificed everything for his sake!" she cried. "It's splendid!Fine! I don't want anything, Prince."

　　"Yes, but you are not the only one. There are your sisters..."replied Prince Vasili.

　　But the princess did not listen to him.

　　"Yes, I knew it long ago but had forgotten. I knew that I couldexpect nothing but meanness, deceit, envy, intrigue, andingratitude- the blackest ingratitude- in this house..."

　　"Do you or do you not know where that will is?" insisted PrinceVasili, his cheeks twitching more than ever.

　　"Yes, I was a fool! I still believed in people, loved them, andsacrificed myself. But only the base, the vile succeed! I know who hasbeen intriguing!"

　　The princees wished to rise, but the prince held her by the hand.She had the air of one who has suddenly lost faith in the wholehuman race. She gave her companion an angry glance.

　　"There is still time, my dear. You must remember, Catiche, that itwas all done casually in a moment of anger, of illness, and wasafterwards forgotten. Our duty, my dear, is to rectify his mistake, toease his last moments by not letting him commit this injustice, andnot to let him die feeling that he is rendering unhappy those who..."

　　"Who sacrificed everything for him," chimed in the princess, whowould again have risen had not the prince still held her fast, "thoughhe never could appreciate it. No, mon cousin," she added with asigh, "I shall always remember that in this world one must expect noreward, that in this world there is neither honor nor justice. In thisworld one has to be cunning and cruel."

　　"Now come, come! Be reasonable. I know your excellent heart."

　　"No, I have a wicked heart."

　　"I know your heart," repeated the prince. "I value your friendshipand wish you to have as good an opinion of me. Don't upset yourself,and let us talk sensibly while there is still time, be it a day orbe it but an hour.... Tell me all you know about the will, and aboveall where it is. You must know. We will take it at once and show it tothe count. He has, no doubt, forgotten it and will wish to destroy it.You understand that my sole desire is conscientiously to carry out hiswishes; that is my only reason for being here. I came simply to helphim and you."

　　"Now I see it all! I know who has been intriguing- I know!" criedthe princess.

　　"That's not the point, my dear."

　　"It's that protege of yours, that sweet Princess Drubetskaya, thatAnna Mikhaylovna whom I would not take for a housemaid... theinfamous, vile woman!"

　　"Do not let us lose any time..."

　　"Ah, don't talk to me! Last winter she wheedled herself in hereand told the count such vile, disgraceful things about us,especially about Sophie- I can't repeat them- that it made the countquite ill and he would not see us for a whole fortnight. I know it wasthen he wrote this vile, infamous paper, but I thought the thing wasinvalid."

　　"We've got to it at last- why did you not tell me about it sooner?"

　　"It's in the inlaid portfolio that he keeps under his pillow,"said the princess, ignoring his question. "Now I know! Yes; if Ihave a sin, a great sin, it is hatred of that vile woman!" almostshrieked the princess, now quite changed. "And what does she comeworming herself in here for? But I will give her a piece of my mind.The time will come!"