Book Ten: 1812 - Chapter XVII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　After the Emperor had left Moscow, life flowed on there in its usualcourse, and its course was so very usual that it was difficult toremember the recent days of patriotic elation and ardor, hard tobelieve that Russia was really in danger and that the members of theEnglish Club were also sons of the Fatherland ready to sacrificeeverything for it. The one thing that recalled the patriotic fervoreveryone had displayed during the Emperor's stay was the call forcontributions of men and money, a necessity that as soon as thepromises had been made assumed a legal, official form and becameunavoidable.

　　With the enemy's approach to Moscow, the Moscovites' view of theirsituation did not grow more serious but on the contrary became evenmore frivolous, as always happens with people who see a great dangerapproaching. At the approach of danger there are always two voicesthat speak with equal power in the human soul: one very reasonablytells a man to consider the nature of the danger and the means ofescaping it; the other, still more reasonably, says that it is toodepressing and painful to think of the danger, since it is not inman's power to foresee everything and avert the general course ofevents, and it is therefore better to disregard what is painful tillit comes, and to think about what is pleasant. In solitude a mangenerally listens to the first voice, but in society to the second. Soit was now with the inhabitants of Moscow. It was long since peoplehad been as gay in Moscow as that year.

　　Rostopchin's broadsheets, headed by woodcuts of a drink shop, apotman, and a Moscow burgher called Karpushka Chigirin, "who- havingbeen a militiaman and having had rather too much at the pub- heardthat Napoleon wished to come to Moscow, grew angry, abused theFrench in very bad language, came out of the drink shop, and, underthe sign of the eagle, began to address the assembled people," wereread and discussed, together with the latest of Vasili LvovichPushkin's bouts rimes.

　　In the corner room at the Club, members gathered to read thesebroadsheets, and some liked the way Karpushka jeered at the French,saying: "They will swell up with Russian cabbage, burst with ourbuckwheat porridge, and choke themselves with cabbage soup. They areall dwarfs and one peasant woman will toss three of them with ahayfork." Others did not like that tone and said it was stupid andvulgar. It was said that Rostopchin had expelled all Frenchmen andeven all foreigners from Moscow, and that there had been some spiesand agents of Napoleon among them; but this was told chiefly tointroduce Rostopchin's witty remark on that occasion. The foreignerswere deported to Nizhni by boat, and Rostopchin had said to them inFrench: "Rentrez en vousmemes; entrez dans la barque, et n'en faitespas une barque de Charon."* There was talk of all the governmentoffices having been already removed from Moscow, and to thisShinshin's witticism was added- that for that alone Moscow ought to begrateful to Napoleon. It was said that Mamonov's regiment would costhim eight hundred thousand rubles, and that Bezukhov had spent evenmore on his, but that the best thing about Bezukhov's action wasthat he himself was going to don a uniform and ride at the head of hisregiment without charging anything for the show.

　　*"Think it over; get into the barque, and take care not to make it abarque of Charon."

　　"You don't spare anyone," said Julie Drubetskaya as she collectedand pressed together a bunch of raveled lint with her thin, beringedfingers.

　　Julie was preparing to leave Moscow next day and was giving afarewell soiree.

　　"Bezukhov est ridicule, but he is so kind and good-natured. Whatpleasure is there to be so caustique?"

　　"A forfeit!" cried a young man in militia uniform whom Juliecalled "mon chevalier," and who was going with her to Nizhni.

　　In Julie's set, as in many other circles in Moscow, it had beenagreed that they would speak nothing but Russian and that those whomade a slip and spoke French should pay fines to the Committee ofVoluntary Contributions.

　　"Another forfeit for a Gallicism," said a Russian writer who waspresent. "'What pleasure is there to be' is not Russian!"

　　"You spare no one," continued Julie to the young man without heedingthe author's remark.

　　"For caustique- I am guilty and will pay, and I am prepared to payagain for the pleasure of telling you the truth. For Gallicisms Iwon't be responsible," she remarked, turning to the author: "I haveneither the money nor the time, like Prince Galitsyn, to engage amaster to teach me Russian!"

　　"Ah, here he is!" she added. "Quand on... No, no," she said to themilitia officer, "you won't catch me. Speak of the sun and you see itsrays!" and she smiled amiably at Pierre. "We were just talking ofyou," she said with the facility in lying natural to a societywoman. "We were saying that your regiment would be sure to be betterthan Mamonov's."

　　"Oh, don't talk to me of my regiment," replied Pierre, kissing hishostess' hand and taking a seat beside her. "I am so sick of it."

　　"You will, of course, command it yourself?" said Julie, directinga sly, sarcastic glance toward the militia officer.

　　The latter in Pierre's presence had ceased to be caustic, and hisface expressed perplexity as to what Julie's smile might mean. Inspite of his absent-mindedness and good nature, Pierre's personalityimmediately checked any attempt to ridicule him to his face.

　　"No," said Pierre, with a laughing glance at his big, stout body. "Ishould make too good a target for the French, besides I am afraid Ishould hardly be able to climb onto a horse."

　　Among those whom Julie's guests happened to choose to gossip aboutwere the Rostovs.

　　"I hear that their affairs are in a very bad way," said Julie."And he is so unreasonable, the count himself I mean. TheRazumovskis wanted to buy his house and his estate near Moscow, but itdrags on and on. He asks too much."

　　"No, I think the sale will come off in a few days," said someone."Though it is madness to buy anything in Moscow now."

　　"Why?" asked Julie. "You don't think Moscow is in danger?"

　　"Then why are you leaving?"

　　"I? What a question! I am going because... well, because everyone isgoing: and besides- I am not Joan of Arc or an Amazon."

　　"Well, of course, of course! Let me have some more strips of linen."

　　"If he manages the business properly he will be able to pay offall his debts," said the militia officer, speaking of Rostov.

　　"A kindly old man but not up to much. And why do they stay on solong in Moscow? They meant to leave for the country long ago.Natalie is quite well again now, isn't she?" Julie asked Pierre with aknowing smile.

　　"They are waiting for their younger son," Pierre replied. "He joinedObolenski's Cossacks and went to Belaya Tserkov where the regimentis being formed. But now they have had him transferred to myregiment and are expecting him every day. The count wanted to leavelong ago, but the countess won't on any account leave Moscow tillher son returns."

　　"I met them the day before yesterday at the Arkharovs'. Nataliehas recovered her looks and is brighter. She sang a song. How easilysome people get over everything!"

　　"Get over what?" inquired Pierre, looking displeased.

　　Julie smiled.

　　"You know, Count, such knights as you are only found in Madame deSouza's novels."

　　"What knights? What do you mean?" demanded Pierre, blushing.

　　"Oh, come, my dear count! C'est la fable de tout Moscou. Je vousadmire, ma parole d'honneur!"*

　　*"It is the talk of all Moscow. My word, I admire you!"

　　"Forfeit, forfeit!" cried the militia officer.

　　"All right, one can't talk- how tiresome!"

　　"What is 'the talk of all Moscow'?" Pierre asked angrily, risingto his feet.

　　"Come now, Count, you know!"

　　"I don't know anything about it," said Pierre.

　　"I know you were friendly with Natalie, and so... but I was alwaysmore friendly with Vera- that dear Vera."

　　"No, madame!" Pierre continued in a tone of displeasure, "I have nottaken on myself the role of Natalie Rostova's knight at all, andhave not been their house for nearly a month. But I cannotunderstand the cruelty..."

　　"Qui s'excuse s'accuse,"* said Julie, smiling and waving the linttriumphantly, and to have the last word she promptly changed thesubject. "Do you know what I heard today? Poor Mary Bolkonskayaarrived in Moscow yesterday. Do you know that she has lost herfather?"

　　*"Who excuses himself, accuses himself."

　　"Really? Where is she? I should like very much to see her," saidPierre.

　　"I spent the evening with her yesterday. She is going to theirestate near Moscow either today or tomorrow morning, with her nephew."

　　"Well, and how is she?" asked Pierre.

　　"She is well, but sad. But do you know who rescued her? It isquite a romance. Nicholas Rostov! She was surrounded, and theywanted to kill her and had wounded some of her people. He rushed inand saved her...."

　　"Another romance," said the militia officer. "Really, this generalflight has been arranged to get all the old maids married off. Caticheis one and Princess Bolkonskaya another."

　　"Do you know, I really believe she is un petit peu amoureuse dujeune homme."*

　　*"A little bit in love with the young man."

　　"Forfeit, forfeit, forfeit!"

　　"But how could one say that in Russian?"