Book Three: 1805 - Chapter II

by Leo Tolstoy

　　In November, 1805, Prince Vasili had to go on a tour of inspectionin four different provinces. He had arranged this for himself so as tovisit his neglected estates at the same time and pick up his sonAnatole where his regiment was stationed, and take him to visit PrinceNicholas Bolkonski in order to arrange a match for him with thedaughter of that rich old man. But before leaving home and undertakingthese new affairs, Prince Vasili had to settle matters with Pierre,who, it is true, had latterly spent whole days at home, that is, inPrince Vasili's house where he was staying, and had been absurd,excited, and foolish in Helene's presence (as a lover should be),but had not yet proposed to her.

　　"This is all very fine, but things must be settled," said PrinceVasili to himself, with a sorrowful sigh, one morning, feeling thatPierre who was under such obligations to him ("But never mind that")was not behaving very well in this matter. "Youth, frivolity...well, God be with him," thought he, relishing his own goodness ofheart, "but it must be brought to a head. The day after tomorrowwill be Lelya's name day. I will invite two or three people, and if hedoes not understand what he ought to do then it will be my affair-yes, my affair. I am her father."

　　Six weeks after Anna Pavlovna's "At Home" and after the sleeplessnight when he had decided that to marry Helene would be a calamity andthat he ought to avoid her and go away, Pierre, despite that decision,had not left Prince Vasili's and felt with terror that in people'seyes he was every day more and more connected with her, that it wasimpossible for him to return to his former conception of her, thathe could not break away from her, and that though it would be aterrible thing he would have to unite his fate with hers. He mightperhaps have been able to free himself but that Prince Vasili (who hadrarely before given receptions) now hardly let a day go by withouthaving an evening party at which Pierre had to be present unless hewished to spoil the general pleasure and disappoint everyone'sexpectation. Prince Vasili, in the rare moments when he was at home,would take Pierre's hand in passing and draw it downwards, orabsent-mindedly hold out his wrinkled, clean-shaven cheek for Pierreto kiss and would say: "Till tomorrow," or, "Be in to dinner or Ishall not see you," or, "I am staying in for your sake," and so on.And though Prince Vasili, when he stayed in (as he said) forPierre's sake, hardly exchanged a couple of words with him, Pierrefelt unable to disappoint him. Every day he said to himself one andthe same thing: "It is time I understood her and made up my mindwhat she really is. Was I mistaken before, or am I mistaken now? No,she is not stupid, she is an excellent girl," he sometimes said tohimself "she never makes a mistake, never says anything stupid. Shesays little, but what she does say is always clear and simple, soshe is not stupid. She never was abashed and is not abashed now, soshe cannot be a bad woman!" He had often begun to make reflectionsor think aloud in her company, and she had always answered himeither by a brief but appropriate remark- showing that it did notinterest her- or by a silent look and smile which more palpably thananything else showed Pierre her superiority. She was right inregarding all arguments as nonsense in comparison with that smile.

　　She always addressed him with a radiantly confiding smile meantfor him alone, in which there was something more significant than inthe general smile that usually brightened her face. Pierre knew thateveryone was waiting for him to say a word and cross a certain line,and he knew that sooner or later he would step across it, but anincomprehensible terror seized him at the thought of that dreadfulstep. A thousand times during that month and a half while he felthimself drawn nearer and nearer to that dreadful abyss, Pierre said tohimself: "What am I doing? I need resolution. Can it be that I havenone?"

　　He wished to take a decision, but felt with dismay that in thismatter he lacked that strength of will which he had known in himselfand really possessed. Pierre was one of those who are only strong whenthey feel themselves quite innocent, and since that day when he wasoverpowered by a feeling of desire while stooping over the snuffbox atAnna Pavlovna's, an unacknowledged sense of the guilt of that desireparalyzed his will.

　　On Helene's name day, a small party of just their own people- as hiswife said- met for supper at Prince Vasili's. All these friends andrelations had been given to understand that the fate of the young girlwould be decided that evening. The visitors were seated at supper.Princess Kuragina, a portly imposing woman who had once been handsome,was sitting at the head of the table. On either side of her sat themore important guests- an old general and his wife, and AnnaPavlovna Scherer. At the other end sat the younger and lessimportant guests, and there too sat the members of the family, andPierre and Helene, side by side. Prince Vasili was not having anysupper: he went round the table in a merry mood, sitting down now byone, now by another, of the guests. To each of them he made somecareless and agreeable remark except to Pierre and Helene, whosepresence he seemed not to notice. He enlivened the whole party. Thewax candles burned brightly, the silver and crystal gleamed, so didthe ladies' toilets and the gold and silver of the men's epaulets;servants in scarlet liveries moved round the table, the clatter ofplates, knives, and glasses mingled with the animated hum of severalconversations. At one end of the table, the old chamberlain washeard assuring an old baroness that he loved her passionately, atwhich she laughed; at the other could be heard the story of themisfortunes of some Mary Viktorovna or other. At the center of thetable, Prince Vasili attracted everybody's attention. With a facetioussmile on his face, he was telling the ladies about last Wednesday'smeeting of the Imperial Council, at which Sergey KuzmichVyazmitinov, the new military governor general of Petersburg, hadreceived and read the then famous rescript of the Emperor Alexanderfrom the army to Sergey Kuzmich, in which the Emperor said that he wasreceiving from all sides declarations of the people's loyalty, thatthe declaration from Petersburg gave him particular pleasure, and thathe was proud to be at the head of such a nation and would endeavorto be worthy of it. This rescript began with the words: "SergeyKuzmich, From all sides reports reach me," etc.

　　"Well, and so he never got farther than: 'Sergey Kuzmich'?" askedone of the ladies.

　　"Exactly, not a hair's breadth farther," answered Prince Vasili,laughing, "'Sergey Kuzmich... From all sides... From all sides...Sergey Kuzmich...' Poor Vyazmitinov could not get any farther! Hebegan the rescript again and again, but as soon as he uttered 'Sergey'he sobbed, 'Kuz-mi-ch,' tears, and 'From all sides' was smothered insobs and he could get no farther. And again his handkerchief, andagain: 'Sergey Kuzmich, From all sides,'... and tears, till at lastsomebody else was asked to read it."

　　"Kuzmich... From all sides... and then tears," someone repeatedlaughing.

　　"Don't be unkind," cried Anna Pavlovna from her end of the tableholding up a threatening finger. "He is such a worthy and excellentman, our dear Vyazmitinov...."

　　Everybody laughed a great deal. At the head of the table, wherethe honored guests sat, everyone seemed to be in high spirits andunder the influence of a variety of exciting sensations. Only Pierreand Helene sat silently side by side almost at the bottom of thetable, a suppressed smile brightening both their faces, a smile thathad nothing to do with Sergey Kuzmich- a smile of bashfulness at theirown feelings. But much as all the rest laughed, talked, and joked,much as they enjoyed their Rhine wine, saute, and ices, and howeverthey avoided looking at the young couple, and heedless and unobservantas they seemed of them, one could feel by the occasional glancesthey gave that the story about Sergey Kuzmich, the laughter, and thefood were all a pretense, and that the whole attention of that companywas directed to- Pierre and Helene. Prince Vasili mimicked the sobbingof Sergey Kuzmich and at the same time his eyes glanced toward hisdaughter, and while he laughed the expression on his face clearlysaid: "Yes... it's getting on, it will all be settled today." AnnaPavlovna threatened him on behalf of "our dear Vyazmitinov," and inher eyes, which, for an instant, glanced at Pierre, Prince Vasili reada congratulation on his future son-in-law and on his daughter'shappiness. The old princess sighed sadly as she offered some wine tothe old lady next to her and glanced angrily at her daughter, andher sigh seemed to say: "Yes, there's nothing left for you and mebut to sip sweet wine, my dear, now that the time has come for theseyoung ones to be thus boldly, provocatively happy." "And what nonsenseall this is that I am saying!" thought a diplomatist, glancing atthe happy faces of the lovers. "That's happiness!"

　　Into the insignificant, trifling, and artificial interests unitingthat society had entered the simple feeling of the attraction of ahealthy and handsome young man and woman for one another. And thishuman feeling dominated everything else and soared above all theiraffected chatter. Jests fell flat, news was not interesting, and theanimation was evidently forced. Not only the guests but even thefootmen waiting at table seemed to feel this, and they forgot theirduties as they looked at the beautiful Helene with her radiant faceand at the red, broad, and happy though uneasy face of Pierre. Itseemed as if the very light of the candles was focused on those twohappy faces alone.

　　Pierre felt that he the center of it all, and this both pleasedand embarrassed him. He was like a man entirely absorbed in someoccupation. He did not see, hear, or understand anything clearly. Onlynow and then detached ideas and impressions from the world ofreality shot unexpectedly through his mind.

　　"So it is all finished!" he thought. "And how has it all happened?How quickly! Now I know that not because of her alone, nor of myselfalone, but because of everyone, it must inevitably come about. Theyare all expecting it, they are so sure that it will happen that Icannot, I cannot, disappoint them. But how will it be? I do notknow, but it will certainly happen!" thought Pierre, glancing at thosedazzling shoulders close to his eyes.

　　Or he would suddenly feel ashamed of he knew not what. He felt itawkward to attract everyone's attention and to be considered a luckyman and, with his plain face, to be looked on as a sort of Parispossessed of a Helen. "But no doubt it always is and must be so!" heconsoled himself. "And besides, what have I done to bring it about?How did it begin? I traveled from Moscow with Prince Vasili. Thenthere was nothing. So why should I not stay at his house? Then Iplayed cards with her and picked up her reticule and drove out withher. How did it begin, when did it all come about?" And here he wassitting by her side as her betrothed, seeing, hearing, feeling hernearness, her breathing, her movements, her beauty. Then it wouldsuddenly seem to him that it was not she but he was so unusuallybeautiful, and that that was why they all looked so at him, andflattered by this general admiration he would expand his chest,raise his head, and rejoice at his good fortune. Suddenly he heard afamiliar voice repeating something to him a second time. But Pierrewas so absorbed that he did not understand what was said.

　　"I am asking you when you last heard from Bolkonski," repeatedPrince Vasili a third time. "How absent-minded you are, my dearfellow."

　　Prince Vasili smiled, and Pierre noticed that everyone was smilingat him and Helene. "Well, what of it, if you all know it?" thoughtPierre. "What of it? It's the truth!" and he himself smiled his gentlechildlike smile, and Helene smiled too.

　　"When did you get the letter? Was it from Olmutz?" repeated PrinceVasili, who pretended to want to know this in order to settle adispute.

　　"How can one talk or think of such trifles?" thought Pierre.

　　"Yes, from Olmutz," he answered, with a sigh.

　　After supper Pierre with his partner followed the others into thedrawing room. The guests began to disperse, some without takingleave of Helene. Some, as if unwilling to distract her from animportant occupation, came up to her for a moment and made haste to goaway, refusing to let her see them off. The diplomatist preserved amournful silence as he left the drawing room. He pictured the vanityof his diplomatic career in comparison with Pierre's happiness. Theold general grumbled at his wife when she asked how his leg was."Oh, the old fool," he thought. "That Princess Helene will bebeautiful still when she's fifty."

　　"I think I may congratulate you," whispered Anna Pavlovna to the oldprincess, kissing her soundly. "If I hadn't this headache I'd havestayed longer."

　　The old princess did not reply, she was tormented by jealousy of herdaughter's happiness.

　　While the guests were taking their leave Pierre remained for along time alone with Helene in the little drawing room where they weresitting. He had often before, during the last six weeks, remainedalone with her, but had never spoken to her of love. Now he feltthat it was inevitable, but he could not make up his mind to takethe final step. He felt ashamed; he felt that he was occupying someoneelse's place here beside Helene. "This happiness is not for you," someinner voice whispered to him. "This happiness is for those who havenot in them what there is in you."

　　But, as he had to say something, he began by asking her whethershe was satisfied with the party. She replied in her usual simplemanner that this name day of hers had been one of the pleasantestshe had ever had.

　　Some of the nearest relatives had not yet left. They were sitting inthe large drawing room. Prince Vasili came up to Pierre with languidfootsteps. Pierre rose and said it was getting late. Prince Vasiligave him a look of stern inquiry, as though what Pierre had justsaid was so strange that one could not take it in. But then theexpression of severity changed, and he drew Pierre's hand downwards,made him sit down, and smiled affectionately.

　　"Well, Lelya?" he asked, turning instantly to his daughter andaddressing her with the careless tone of habitual tenderness naturalto parents who have petted their children from babyhood, but whichPrince Vasili had only acquired by imitating other parents.

　　And he again turned to Pierre.

　　"Sergey Kuzmich- From all sides-" he said, unbuttoning the topbutton of his waistcoat.

　　Pierre smiled, but his smile showed that he knew it was not thestory about Sergey Kuzmich that interested Prince Vasili just then,and Prince Vasili saw that Pierre knew this. He suddenly mutteredsomething and went away. It seemed to Pierre that even the princewas disconcerted. The sight of the discomposure of that old man of theworld touched Pierre: he looked at Helene and she too seemeddisconcerted, and her look seemed to say: "Well, it is your ownfault."

　　"The step must be taken but I cannot, I cannot!" thought Pierre, andhe again began speaking about indifferent matters, about SergeyKuzmich, asking what the point of the story was as he had not heard itproperly. Helene answered with a smile that she too had missed it.

　　When Prince Vasili returned to the drawing room, the princess, hiswife, was talking in low tones to the elderly lady about Pierre.

　　"Of course, it is a very brilliant match, but happiness, my dear..."

　　"Marriages are made in heaven," replied the elderly lady.

　　Prince Vasili passed by, seeming not to hear the ladies, and satdown on a sofa in a far corner of the room. He closed his eyes andseemed to be dozing. His head sank forward and then he roused himself.

　　"Aline," he said to his wife, "go and see what they are about."

　　The princess went up to the door, passed by it with a dignifiedand indifferent air, and glanced into the little drawing room.Pierre and Helene still sat talking just as before.

　　"Still the same," she said to her husband.

　　Prince Vasili frowned, twisting his mouth, his cheeks quivered andhis face assumed the coarse, unpleasant expression peculiar to him.Shaking himself, he rose, threw back his head, and with resolute stepswent past the ladies into the little drawing room. With quick steps hewent joyfully up to Pierre. His face was so unusually triumphantthat Pierre rose in alarm on seeing it.

　　"Thank God!" said Prince Vasili. "My wife has told me everything!-(He put one arm around Pierre and the other around his daughter.)- "Mydear boy... Lelya... I am very pleased." (His voice trembled.) "Iloved your father... and she will make you a good wife... God blessyou!..."

　　He embraced his daughter, and then again Pierre, and kissed him withhis malodorous mouth. Tears actually moistened his cheeks.

　　"Princess, come here!" he shouted.

　　The old princess came in and also wept. The elderly lady was usingher handkerchief too. Pierre was kissed, and he kissed the beautifulHelene's hand several times. After a while they were left alone again.

　　"All this had to be and could not be otherwise," thought Pierre, "soit is useless to ask whether it is good or bad. It is good becauseit's definite and one is rid of the old tormenting doubt." Pierre heldthe hand of his betrothed in silence, looking at her beautiful bosomas it rose and fell.

　　"Helene!" he said aloud and paused.

　　"Something special is always said in such cases," he thought, butcould not remember what it was that people say. He looked at her face.She drew nearer to him. Her face flushed.

　　"Oh, take those off... those..." she said, pointing to hisspectacles.

　　Pierre took them off, and his eyes, besides the strange look eyeshave from which spectacles have just been removed, had also afrightened and inquiring look. He was about to stoop over her hand andkiss it, but with a rapid, almost brutal movement of her head, sheintercepted his lips and met them with her own. Her face struckPierre, by its altered, unpleasantly excited expression.

　　"It is too late now, it's done; besides I love her," thought Pierre.

　　"Je vous aime!"* he said, remembering what has to be said at suchmoments: but his words sounded so weak that he felt ashamed ofhimself.

　　*"I love you."

　　Six weeks later he was married, and settled in Count Bezukhov'slarge, newly furnished Petersburg house, the happy possessor, aspeople said, of a wife who was a celebrated beauty and of millionsof money.