Book Three: 1805 - Chapter III

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Old Prince Nicholas Bolkonski received a letter from Prince Vasiliin November, 1805, announcing that he and his son would be payinghim a visit. "I am starting on a journey of inspection, and ofcourse I shall think nothing of an extra seventy miles to come and seeyou at the same time, my honored benefactor," wrote Prince Vasili. "Myson Anatole is accompanying me on his way to the army, so I hope youwill allow him personally to express the deep respect that,emulating his father, he feels for you."

　　"It seems that there will be no need to bring Mary out, suitorsare coming to us of their own accord," incautiously remarked thelittle princess on hearing the news.

　　Prince Nicholas frowned, but said nothing.

　　A fortnight after the letter Prince Vasili's servants came oneevening in advance of him, and he and his son arrived next day.

　　Old Bolkonski had always had a poor opinion of Prince Vasili'scharacter, but more so recently, since in the new reigns of Paul andAlexander Prince Vasili had risen to high position and honors. Andnow, from the hints contained in his letter and given by the littleprincess, he saw which way the wind was blowing, and his low opinionchanged into a feeling of contemptuous ill will. He snorted wheneverhe mentioned him. On the day of Prince Vasili's arrival, PrinceBolkonski was particularly discontented and out of temper. Whetherhe was in a bad temper because Prince Vasili was coming, or whetherhis being in a bad temper made him specially annoyed at PrinceVasili's visit, he was in a bad temper, and in the morning Tikhonhad already advised the architect not to go the prince with hisreport.

　　"Do you hear how he's walking?" said Tikhon, drawing the architect'sattention to the sound of the prince's footsteps. "Stepping flat onhis heels- we know what that means...."

　　However, at nine o'clock the prince, in his velvet coat with a sablecollar and cap, went out for his usual walk. It had snowed the daybefore and the path to the hothouse, along which the prince was in thehabit of walking, had been swept: the marks of the broom were stillvisible in the snow and a shovel had been left sticking in one ofthe soft snowbanks that bordered both sides of the path. The princewent through the conservatories, the serfs' quarters, and theoutbuildings, frowning and silent.

　　"Can a sleigh pass?" he asked his overseer, a venerable man,resembling his master in manners and looks, who was accompanying himback to the house.

　　"The snow is deep. I am having the avenue swept, your honor."

　　The prince bowed his head and went up to the porch. "God bethanked," thought the overseer, "the storm has blown over!"

　　"It would have been hard to drive up, your honor," he added. "Iheard, your honor, that a minister is coming to visit your honor."

　　The prince turned round to the overseer and fixed his eyes on him,frowning.

　　"What? A minister? What minister? Who gave orders?" he said in hisshrill, harsh voice. "The road is not swept for the princess mydaughter, but for a minister! For me, there are no ministers!"

　　"Your honor, I thought..."

　　"You thought!" shouted the prince, his words coming more and morerapidly and indistinctly. "You thought!... Rascals! Blackgaurds!...I'll teach you to think!" and lifting his stick he swung it andwould have hit Alpatych, the overseer, had not the latterinstinctively avoided the blow. "Thought... Blackguards..." shoutedthe prince rapidly.

　　But although Alpatych, frightened at his own temerity in avoidingthe stroke, came up to the prince, bowing his bald head resignedlybefore him, or perhaps for that very reason, the prince, though hecontinued to shout: "Blackgaurds!... Throw the snow back on the road!"did not lift his stick again but hurried into the house.

　　Before dinner, Princess Mary and Mademoiselle Bourienne, who knewthat the prince was in a bad humor, stood awaiting him; MademoiselleBourienne with a radiant face that said: "I know nothing, I am thesame as usual," and Princess Mary pale, frightened, and withdowncast eyes. What she found hardest to bear was to know that on suchoccasions she ought to behave like Mademoiselle Bourienne, but couldnot. She thought: "If I seem not to notice he will think that I do notsympathize with him; if I seem sad and out of spirits myself, hewill say (as he has done before) that I'm in the dumps."

　　The prince looked at his daughter's frightened face and snorted.

　　"Fool... or dummy!" he muttered.

　　"And the other one is not here. They've been telling tales," hethought- referring to the little princess who was not in the diningroom.

　　"Where is the princess?" he asked. "Hiding?"

　　"She is not very well," answered Mademoiselle Bourienne with abright smile, "so she won't come down. It is natural in her state."

　　"Hm! Hm!" muttered the prince, sitting down.

　　His plate seemed to him not quite clean, and pointing to a spot heflung it away. Tikhon caught it and handed it to a footman. The littleprincess was not unwell, but had such an overpowering fear of theprince that, hearing he was in a bad humor, she had decided not toappear.

　　"I am afraid for the baby," she said to Mademoiselle Bourienne:"Heaven knows what a fright might do."

　　In general at Bald Hills the little princess lived in constant fear,and with a sense of antipathy to the old prince which she did notrealize because the fear was so much the stronger feeling. Theprince reciprocated this antipathy, but it was overpowered by hiscontempt for her. When the little princess had grown accustomed tolife at Bald Hills, she took a special fancy to MademoiselleBourienne, spent whole days with her, asked her to sleep in herroom, and often talked with her about the old prince and criticizedhim.

　　"So we are to have visitors, mon prince?" remarked MademoiselleBourienne, unfolding her white napkin with her rosy fingers. "HisExcellency Prince Vasili Kuragin and his son, I understand?" shesaid inquiringly.

　　"Hm!- his excellency is a puppy.... I got him his appointment in theservice," said the prince disdainfully. "Why his son is coming I don'tunderstand. Perhaps Princess Elizabeth and Princess Mary know. I don'twant him." (He looked at his blushing daughter.) "Are you unwelltoday? Eh? Afraid of the 'minister' as that idiot Alpatych calledhim this morning?"

　　"No, mon pere."

　　Though Mademoiselle Bourienne had been so unsuccessful in her choiceof a subject, she did not stop talking, but chattered about theconservatories and the beauty of a flower that had just opened, andafter the soup the prince became more genial.

　　After dinner, he went to see his daughter-in-law. The littleprincess was sitting at a small table, chattering with Masha, hermaid. She grew pale on seeing her father-in-law.

　　She was much altered. She was now plain rather than pretty. Hercheeks had sunk, her lip was drawn up, and her eyes drawn down.

　　"Yes, I feel a kind of oppression," she said in reply to theprince's question as to how she felt.

　　"Do you want anything?"

　　"No, merci, mon pere."

　　"Well, all right, all right."

　　He left the room and went to the waiting room where Alpatych stoodwith bowed head.

　　"Has the snow been shoveled back?"

　　"Yes, your excellency. Forgive me for heaven's sake... It was onlymy stupidity."

　　"All right, all right," interrupted the prince, and laughing hisunnatural way, he stretched out his hand for Alpatych to kiss, andthen proceeded to his study.

　　Prince Vasili arrived that evening. He was met in the avenue bycoachmen and footmen, who, with loud shouts, dragged his sleighs up toone of the lodges over the road purposely laden with snow.

　　Prince Vasili and Anatole had separate rooms assigned to them.

　　Anatole, having taken off his overcoat, sat with arms akimbobefore a table on a corner of which he smilingly and absent-mindedlyfixed his large and handsome eyes. He regarded his whole life as acontinual round of amusement which someone for some reason had toprovide for him. And he looked on this visit to a churlish old man anda rich and ugly heiress in the same way. All this might, he thought,turn out very well and amusingly. "And why not marry her if she reallyhas so much money? That never does any harm," thought Anatole.

　　He shaved and scented himself with the care and elegance which hadbecome habitual to him and, his handsome head held high, entered hisfather's room with the good-humored and victorious air natural to him.Prince Vasili's two valets were busy dressing him, and he looked roundwith much animation and cheerfully nodded to his son as the latterentered, as if to say: "Yes, that's how I want you to look."

　　"I say, Father, joking apart, is she very hideous?" Anatole asked,as if continuing a conversation the subject of which had often beenmentioned during the journey.

　　"Enough! What nonsense! Above all, try to be respectful and cautiouswith the old prince."

　　"If he starts a row I'll go away," said Prince Anatole. "I can'tbear those old men! Eh?"

　　"Remember, for you everything depends on this."

　　In the meantime, not only was it known in the maidservants' roomsthat the minister and his son had arrived, but the appearance ofboth had been minutely described. Princess Mary was sitting alone inher room, vainly trying to master her agitation.

　　"Why did they write, why did Lise tell me about it? It can neverhappen!" she said, looking at herself in the glass. "How shall I enterthe drawing room? Even if I like him I can't now be myself withhim." The mere thought of her father's look filled her with terror.The little princess and Mademoiselle Bourienne had already receivedfrom Masha, the lady's maid, the necessary report of how handsomethe minister's son was, with his rosy cheeks and dark eyebrows, andwith what difficulty the father had dragged his legs upstairs whilethe son had followed him like an eagle, three steps at a time.Having received this information, the little princess and MademoiselleBourienne, whose chattering voices had reached her from thecorridor, went into Princess Mary's room.

　　"You know they've come, Marie?" said the little princess, waddlingin, and sinking heavily into an armchair.

　　She was no longer in the loose gown she generally wore in themorning, but had on one of her best dresses. Her hair was carefullydone and her face was animated, which, however, did not conceal itssunken and faded outlines. Dressed as she used to be in Petersburgsociety, it was still more noticeable how much plainer she had become.Some unobtrusive touch had been added to Mademoiselle Bourienne'stoilet which rendered her fresh and prettyface yet more attractive.

　　"What! Are you going to remain as you are, dear princess?" shebegan. "They'll be announcing that the gentlemen are in the drawingroom and we shall have to go down, and you have not smartened yourselfup at all!"

　　The little princess got up, rang for the maid, and hurriedly andmerrily began to devise and carry out a plan of how Princess Maryshould be dressed. Princess Mary's self-esteem was wounded by the factthat the arrival of a suitor agitated her, and still more so by bothher companions' not having the least conception that it could beotherwise. To tell them that she felt ashamed for herself and for themwould be to betray her agitation, while to decline their offers todress her would prolong their banter and insistence. She flushed,her beautiful eyes grew dim, red blotches came on her face, and ittook on the unattractive martyrlike expression it so often wore, asshe submitted herself to Mademoiselle Bourienne and Lise. Both thesewomen quite sincerely tried to make her look pretty. She was soplain that neither of them could think of her as a rival, so theybegan dressing her with perfect sincerity, and with the naive and firmconviction women have that dress can make a face pretty.

　　"No really, my dear, this dress is not pretty," said Lise, lookingsideways at Princess Mary from a little distance. "You have a maroondress, have it fetched. Really! You know the fate of your whole lifemay be at stake. But this one is too light, it's not becoming!"

　　It was not the dress, but the face and whole figure of Princess Marythat was not pretty, but neither Mademoiselle Bourienne nor the littleprincess felt this; they still thought that if a blue ribbon wereplaced in the hair, the hair combed up, and the blue scarf arrangedlower on the best maroon dress, and so on, all would be well. Theyforgot that the frightened face and the figure could not be altered,and that however they might change the setting and adornment of thatface, it would still remain piteous and plain. After two or threechanges to which Princess Mary meekly submitted, just as her hairhad been arranged on the top of her head (a style that quite alteredand spoiled her looks) and she had put on a maroon dress with apale-blue scarf, the little princess walked twice round her, nowadjusting a fold of the dress with her little hand, now arrangingthe scarf and looking at her with her head bent first on one sideand then on the other.

　　"No, it will not do," she said decidedly, clasping her hands. "No,Mary, really this dress does not suit you. I prefer you in your littlegray everyday dress. Now please, do it for my sake. Katie," she saidto the maid, "bring the princess her gray dress, and you'll see,Mademoiselle Bourienne, how I shall arrange it," she added, smilingwith a foretaste of artistic pleasure.

　　But when Katie brought the required dress, Princess Mary remainedsitting motionless before the glass, looking at her face, and saw inthe mirror her eyes full of tears and her mouth quivering, ready toburst into sobs.

　　"Come, dear princess," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, "just one morelittle effort."

　　The little princess, taking the dress from the maid, came up toPrincess Mary.

　　"Well, now we'll arrange something quite simple and becoming," shesaid.

　　The three voices, hers, Mademoiselle Bourienne's, and Katie's, whowas laughing at something, mingled in a merry sound, like the chirpingof birds.

　　"No, leave me alone," said Princess Mary.

　　Her voice sounded so serious and so sad that the chirping of thebirds was silenced at once. They looked at the beautiful, large,thoughtful eyes full of tears and of thoughts, gazing shiningly andimploringly at them, and understood that it was useless and even cruelto insist.

　　"At least, change your coiffure," said the little princess."Didn't I tell you," she went on, turning reproachfully toMademoiselle Bourienne, "Mary's is a face which such a coiffure doesnot suit in the least. Not in the least! Please change it."

　　"Leave me alone, please leave me alone! It is all quite the sameto me," answered a voice struggling with tears.

　　Mademoiselle Bourienne and the little princess had to own tothemselves that Princess Mary in this guise looked very plain, worsethan usual, but it was too late. She was looking at them with anexpression they both knew, an expression thoughtful and sad. Thisexpression in Princess Mary did not frighten them (she neverinspired fear in anyone), but they knew that when it appeared on herface, she became mute and was not to be shaken in her determination.

　　"You will change it, won't you?" said Lise. And as Princess Marygave no answer, she left the room.

　　Princess Mary was left alone. She did not comply with Lise'srequest, she not only left her hair as it was, but did not even lookin her glass. Letting her arms fall helplessly, she sat withdowncast eyes and pondered. A husband, a man, a strong dominant andstrangely attractive being rose in her imagination, and carried herinto a totally different happy world of his own. She fancied achild, her own- such as she had seen the day before in the arms of hernurse's daughter- at her own breast, the husband standing by andgazing tenderly at her and the child. "But no, it is impossible, Iam too ugly," she thought.

　　"Please come to tea. The prince will be out in a moment," came themaid's voice at the door.

　　She roused herself, and felt appalled at what she had been thinking,and before going down she went into the room where the icons hung and,her eyes fixed on the dark face of a large icon of the Saviour litby a lamp, she stood before it with folded hands for a few moments.A painful doubt filled her soul. Could the joy of love, of earthlylove for a man, be for her? In her thoughts of marriage PrincessMary dreamed of happiness and of children, but her strongest, mostdeeply hidden longing was for earthly love. The more she tried to hidethis feeling from others and even from herself, the stronger itgrew. "O God," she said, "how am I to stifle in my heart thesetemptations of the devil? How am I to renounce forever these vilefancies, so as peacefully to fulfill Thy will?" And scarcely had sheput that question than God gave her the answer in her own heart."Desire nothing for thyself, seek nothing, be not anxious orenvious. Man's future and thy own fate must remain hidden from thee,but live so that thou mayest be ready for anything. If it be God'swill to prove thee in the duties of marriage, be ready to fulfillHis will." With this consoling thought (but yet with a hope for thefulfillment of her forbidden earthly longing) Princess Mary sighed,and having crossed herself went down, thinking neither of her gown andcoiffure nor of how she would go in nor of what she would say. Whatcould all that matter in comparison with the will of God, withoutWhose care not a hair of man's head can fall?