Book Three: 1805 - Chapter I

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Prince Vasili was not a man who deliberately thought out hisplans. Still less did he think of injuring anyone for his ownadvantage. He was merely a man of the world who had got on and to whomgetting on had become a habit. Schemes and devices for which henever rightly accounted to himself, but which formed the wholeinterest of his life, were constantly shaping themselves in hismind, arising from the circumstances and persons he met. Of theseplans he had not merely one or two in his head but dozens, some onlybeginning to form themselves, some approaching achievement, and somein course of disintegration. He did not, for instance, say to himself:"This man now has influence, I must gain his confidence and friendshipand through him obtain a special grant." Nor did he say to himself:"Pierre is a rich man, I must entice him to marry my daughter and lendme the forty thousand rubles I need." But when he came across cameacross a man of position his instinct immediately told him that thisman could be useful, and without any premeditation Prince Vasilitook the first opportunity to gain his confidence, flatter him, becomeintimate with him, and finally make his request.

　　He had Pierre at hand in Moscow and procured for him anappointment as Gentleman of the Bedchamber, which at that timeconferred the status of Councilor of State, and insisted on theyoung man accompanying him to Petersburg and staying at his house.With apparent absent-mindedness, yet with unhesitating assurancethat he was doing the right thing, Prince Vasili did everything to getPierre to marry his daughter. Had he thought out his plansbeforehand he could not have been so natural and shown such unaffectedfamiliarity in intercourse with everybody both above and below himin social standing. Something always drew him toward those richerand more powerful than himself and he had rare skill in seizing themost opportune moment for making use of people.

　　Pierre, on unexpectedly becoming Count Bezukhov and a rich man, felthimself after his recent loneliness and freedom from cares so besetand preoccupied that only in bed was he able to be by himself. Hehad to sign papers, to present himself at government offices, thepurpose of which was not clear to him, to question his chiefsteward, to visit his estate near Moscow, and to receive many peoplewho formerly did not even wish to know of his existence but wouldnow have been offended and grieved had he chosen not to see them.These different people- businessmen, relations, and acquaintancesalike- were all disposed to treat the young heir in the mostfriendly and flattering manner: they were all evidently firmlyconvinced of Pierre's noble qualities. He was always hearing suchwords as: "With your remarkable kindness," or, "With your excellentheart," "You are yourself so honorable Count," or, "Were he asclever as you," and so on, till he began sincerely to believe in hisown exceptional kindness and extraordinary intelligence, the more soas in the depth of his heart it had always seemed to him that hereally was very kind and intelligent. Even people who had formerlybeen spiteful toward him and evidently unfriendly now became gentleand affectionate. The angry eldest princess, with the long waist andhair plastered down like a doll's, had come into Pierre's room afterthe funeral. With drooping eyes and frequent blushes she told himshe was very sorry about their past misunderstandings and did notnow feel she had a right to ask him for anything, except only forpermission, after the blow she had received, to remain for a few weekslonger in the house she so loved and where she had sacrificed so much.She could not refrain from weeping at these words. Touched that thisstatuesque princess could so change, Pierre took her hand and beggedher forgiveness, without knowing what for. From that day the eldestprincess quite changed toward Pierre and began knitting a stripedscarf for him.

　　"Do this for my sake, mon cher; after all, she had to put up witha great deal from the deceased," said Prince Vasili to him, handinghim a deed to sign for the princess' benefit.

　　Prince Vasili had come to the conclusion that it was necessary tothrow this bone- a bill for thirty thousand rubles- to the poorprincess that it might not occur to her to speak of his share in theaffair of the inlaid portfolio. Pierre signed the deed and afterthat the princess grew still kinder. The younger sisters also becameaffectionate to him, especially the youngest, the pretty one withthe mole, who often made him feel confused by her smiles and her ownconfusion when meeting him.

　　It seemed so natural to Pierre that everyone should like him, and itwould have seemed so unnatural had anyone disliked him, that hecould not but believe in the sincerity of those around him. Besides,he had no time to ask himself whether these people were sincere ornot. He was always busy and always felt in a state of mild andcheerful intoxication. He felt as though he were the center of someimportant and general movement; that something was constantly expectedof him, that if he did not do it he would grieve and disappoint manypeople, but if he did this and that, all would be well; and he didwhat was demanded of him, but still that happy result alwaysremained in the future.

　　More than anyone else, Prince Vasili took possession of Pierre'saffairs and of Pierre himself in those early days. From the death ofCount Bezukhov he did not let go his hold of the lad. He had the airof a man oppressed by business, weary and suffering, who yet wouldnot, for pity's sake, leave this helpless youth who, after all, wasthe son of his old friend and the possessor of such enormous wealth,to the caprice of fate and the designs of rogues. During the fewdays he spent in Moscow after the death of Count Bezukhov, he wouldcall Pierre, or go to him himself, and tell him what ought to bedone in a tone of weariness and assurance, as if he were addingevery time: "You know I am overwhelmed with business and it ispurely out of charity that I trouble myself about you, and you alsoknow quite well that what I propose is the only thing possible."

　　"Well, my dear fellow, tomorrow we are off at last," said PrinceVasili one day, closing his eyes and fingering Pierre's elbow,speaking as if he were saying something which had long since beenagreed upon and could not now be altered. "We start tomorrow and I'mgiving you a place in my carriage. I am very glad. All our importantbusiness here is now settled, and I ought to have been off long ago.Here is something I have received from the chancellor. I asked him foryou, and you have been entered in the diplomatic corps and made aGentleman of the Bedchamber. The diplomatic career now lies openbefore you."

　　Notwithstanding the tone of wearied assurance with which these wordswere pronounced, Pierre, who had so long been considering hiscareer, wished to make some suggestion. But Prince Vasiliinterrupted him in the special deep cooing tone, precluding thepossibility of interrupting his speech, which he used in extreme caseswhen special persuasion was needed.

　　"Mais, mon cher, I did this for my own sake, to satisfy myconscience, and there is nothing to thank me for. No one has evercomplained yet of being too much loved; and besides, you are free, youcould throw it up tomorrow. But you will see everything for yourselfwhen you get to Petersburg. It is high time for you to get away fromthese terrible recollections." Prince Vasili sighed. "Yes, yes, myboy. And my valet can go in your carriage. Ah! I was nearlyforgetting," he added. "You know, mon cher, your father and I had someaccounts to settle, so I have received what was due from the Ryazanestate and will keep it; you won't require it. We'll go into theaccounts later."

　　By "what was due from the Ryazan estate" Prince Vasili meant severalthousand rubles quitrent received from Pierre's peasants, which theprince had retained for himself.

　　In Petersburg, as in Moscow, Pierre found the same atmosphere ofgentleness and affection. He could not refuse the post, or ratherthe rank (for he did nothing), that Prince Vasili had procured forhim, and acquaintances, invitations, and social occupations were sonumerous that, even more than in Moscow, he felt a sense ofbewilderment, bustle, and continual expectation of some good, alwaysin front of him but never attained.

　　Of his former bachelor acquaintances many were no longer inPetersburg. The Guards had gone to the front; Dolokhov had beenreduced to the ranks; Anatole was in the army somewhere in theprovinces; Prince Andrew was abroad; so Pierre had not the opportunityto spend his nights as he used to like to spend them, or to open hismind by intimate talks with a friend older than himself and whom herespected. His whole time was taken up with dinners and balls andwas spent chiefly at Prince Vasili's house in the company of the stoutprincess, his wife, and his beautiful daughter Helene.

　　Like the others, Anna Pavlovna Scherer showed Pierre the change ofattitude toward him that had taken place in society.

　　Formerly in Anna Pavlovna's presence, Pierre had always felt thatwhat he was saying was out of place, tactless and unsuitable, thatremarks which seemed to him clever while they formed in his mindbecame foolish as soon as he uttered them, while on the contraryHippolyte's stupidest remarks came out clever and apt. Noweverything Pierre said was charmant. Even if Anna Pavlovna did not sayso, he could see that she wished to and only refrained out of regardfor his modesty.

　　In the beginning of the winter of 1805-6 Pierre received one of AnnaPavlovna's usual pink notes with an invitation to which was added:"You will find the beautiful Helene here, whom it is always delightfulto see."

　　When he read that sentence, Pierre felt for the first time that somelink which other people recognized had grown up between himself andHelene, and that thought both alarmed him, as if some obligationwere being imposed on him which he could not fulfill, and pleasedhim as an entertaining supposition.

　　Anna Pavlovna's "At Home" was like the former one, only thenovelty she offered her guests this time was not Mortemart, but adiplomatist fresh from Berlin with the very latest details of theEmperor Alexander's visit to Potsdam, and of how the two augustfriends had pledged themselves in an indissoluble alliance to upholdthe cause of justice against the enemy of the human race. AnnaPavlovna received Pierre with a shade of melancholy, evidentlyrelating to the young man's recent loss by the death of Count Bezukhov(everyone constantly considered it a duty to assure Pierre that he wasgreatly afflicted by the death of the father he had hardly known), andher melancholy was just like the august melancholy she showed at themention of her most august Majesty the Empress Marya Fedorovna. Pierrefelt flattered by this. Anna Pavlovna arranged the different groups inher drawing room with her habitual skill. The large group, in whichwere Prince Vasili and the generals, had the benefit of thediplomat. Another group was at the tea table. Pierre wished to jointhe former, but Anna Pavlovna- who was in the excited condition of acommander on a battlefield to whom thousands of new and brilliantideas occur which there is hardly time to put in action- seeingPierre, touched his sleeve with her finger, saying:

　　"Wait a bit, I have something in view for you this evening." (Sheglanced at Helene and smiled at her.) "My dear Helene, be charitableto my poor aunt who adores you. Go and keep her company for tenminutes. And that it will not be too dull, here is the dear countwho will not refuse to accompany you."

　　The beauty went to the aunt, but Anna Pavlovna detained Pierre,looking as if she had to give some final necessary instructions.

　　"Isn't she exquisite?" she said to Pierre, pointing to the statelybeauty as she glided away. "And how she carries herself! For soyoung a girl, such tact, such masterly perfection of manner! Itcomes from her heart. Happy the man who wins her! With her the leastworldly of men would occupy a most brilliant position in society.Don't you think so? I only wanted to know your opinion," and AnnaPavlovna let Pierre go.

　　Pierre, in reply, sincerely agreed with her as to Helene'sperfection of manner. If he ever thought of Helene, it was just of herbeauty and her remarkable skill in appearing silently dignified insociety.

　　The old aunt received the two young people in her corner, but seemeddesirous of hiding her adoration for Helene and inclined rather toshow her fear of Anna Pavlovna. She looked at her niece, as ifinquiring what she was to do with these people. On leaving them,Anna Pavlovna again touched Pierre's sleeve, saying: "I hope you won'tsay that it is dull in my house again," and she glanced at Helene.

　　Helene smiled, with a look implying that she did not admit thepossibility of anyone seeing her without being enchanted. The auntcoughed, swallowed, and said in French that she was very pleased tosee Helene, then she turned to Pierre with the same words of welcomeand the same look. In the middle of a dull and halting conversation,Helene turned to Pierre with the beautiful bright smile that shegave to everyone. Pierre was so used to that smile, and it had solittle meaning for him, that he paid no attention to it. The auntwas just speaking of a collection of snuffboxes that had belonged toPierre's father, Count Bezukhov, and showed them her own box. PrincessHelene asked to see the portrait of the aunt's husband on the box lid.

　　"That is probably the work of Vinesse," said Pierre, mentioning acelebrated miniaturist, and he leaned over the table to take thesnuffbox while trying to hear what was being said at the other table.

　　He half rose, meaning to go round, but the aunt handed him thesnuffbox, passing it across Helene's back. Helene stooped forward tomake room, and looked round with a smile. She was, as always atevening parties, wearing a dress such as was then fashionable, cutvery low at front and back. Her bust, which had always seemed likemarble to Pierre, was so close to him that his shortsighted eyes couldnot but perceive the living charm of her neck and shoulders, so nearto his lips that he need only have bent his head a little to havetouched them. He was conscious of the warmth of her body, the scent ofperfume, and the creaking of her corset as she moved. He did not seeher marble beauty forming a complete whole with her dress, but all thecharm of her body only covered by her garments. And having once seenthis he could not help being aware it, just as we cannot renew anillusion we have once seen through.

　　"So you have never noticed before how beautiful I am?" Helene seemedto say. "You had not noticed that I am a woman? Yes, I am a womanwho may belong to anyone- to you too," said her glance. And at thatmoment Pierre felt that Helene not only could, but must, be hiswife, and that it could not be otherwise.

　　He knew this at that moment as surely as if he had been standingat the altar with her. How and when this would be he did not know,he did not even know if it would be a good thing (he even felt, heknew not why, that it would be a bad thing), but he knew it wouldhappen.

　　Pierre dropped his eyes, lifted them again, and wished once moreto see her as a distant beauty far removed from him, as he had seenher every day until then, but he could no longer do it. He couldnot, any more than a man who has been looking at a tuft of steppegrass through the mist and taking it for a tree can again take itfor a tree after he has once recognized it to be a tuft of grass.She was terribly close to him. She already had power over him, andbetween them there was no longer any barrier except the barrier of hisown will.

　　"Well, I will leave you in your little corner," came Anna Pavlovna'svoice, "I see you are all right there."

　　And Pierre, anxiously trying to remember whether he had doneanything reprehensible, looked round with a blush. It seemed to himthat everyone knew what had happened to him as he knew it himself.

　　A little later when he went up to the large circle, Anna Pavlovnasaid to him: "I hear you are refitting your Petersburg house?"

　　This was true. The architect had told him that it was necessary, andPierre, without knowing why, was having his enormous Petersburghouse done up.

　　"That's a good thing, but don't move from Prince Vasili's. It isgood to have a friend like the prince," she said, smiling at PrinceVasili. "I know something about that. Don't I? And you are still soyoung. You need advice. Don't be angry with me for exercising an oldwoman's privilege."

　　She paused, as women always do, expecting something after theyhave mentioned their age. "If you marry it will be a different thing,"she continued, uniting them both in one glance. Pierre did not look atHelene nor she at him. But she was just as terribly close to him. Hemuttered something and colored.

　　When he got home he could not sleep for a long time for thinkingof what had happened. What had happened? Nothing. He had merelyunderstood that the woman he had known as a child, of whom when herbeauty was mentioned he had said absent-mindedly: "Yes, she's goodlooking," he had understood that this woman might belong to him.

　　"But she's stupid. I have myself said she is stupid," he thought."There is something nasty, something wrong, in the feeling she excitesin me. I have been told that her brother Anatole was in love withher and she with him, that there was quite a scandal and that that'swhy he was sent away. Hippolyte is her brother... Prince Vasili is herfather... It's bad...." he reflected, but while he was thinking this(the reflection was still incomplete), he caught himself smiling andwas conscious that another line of thought had sprung up, and whilethinking of her worthlessness he was also dreaming of how she would behis wife, how she would love him become quite different, and how allhe had thought and heard of her might be false. And he again saw hernot as the daughter of Prince Vasili, but visualized her whole bodyonly veiled by its gray dress. "But no! Why did this thought neveroccur to me before?" and again he told himself that it was impossible,that there would be something unnatural, and as it seemed to himdishonorable, in this marriage. He recalled her former words and looksand the words and looks of those who had seen them together. Herecalled Anna Pavlovna's words and looks when she spoke to him abouthis house, recalled thousands of such hints from Prince Vasili andothers, and was seized by terror lest he had already, in some way,bound himself to do something that was evidently wrong and that heought not to do. But at the very time he was expressing thisconviction to himself, in another part of his mind her image rose inall its womanly beauty.