A woman's dress rustled in the next room. Prince Andrey seemed to have come to his senses and shook his body. His face just showed the expression he often had in Anna Pavlovna's living room. Pierre lowered his legs from the sofa. The Duchess came in. She was wearing another dress that she used to wear but was equally beautiful and had never worn before. Prince Andrey stood up and respectfully moved an easy chair to her side.
"Why do I often think about it," she said in German as usual, and quickly sat down in an easy chair. "Why doesn't Annette marry yet? Gentlemen, you are all so foolish that you should not marry her. Please leave me alone, but you know nothing about the usefulness of women. Mr. Pierre, what an argumentative man you are!"
"I always argue with your husband; I don't understand why he's fighting." Pierre turned to the Duchess and said without restraint (the restraint that young men often have in dealing with young women).
The Duchess trembled. Obviously Pierre's words touched her pain.
"Well, I said the same thing!" She said, "I don't know. I don't know at all. Why can't men live without fighting? Why do we women want anything and need nothing? Well, you can be a referee. I always tell him everything: here he is his uncle's assistant, a top position. Everyone knows him very well and appreciates him very much. Recently, I heard a question from a wife at Applexin's house: Is he the famous Prince Andrey? Tell the truth! She laughed.'He's popular everywhere. He could easily serve as an attendant officer. You know, the king talked to him very charitably. I said to Annette that it would not be difficult to get this family together. What do you think?"
Pierre looked at Prince Andrey and found that his friend did not like the conversation and said nothing.
"When will you leave?" He asked.
"Oh! Please don't tell me what to do, don't say it! I don't want to hear that, "said the Duchess in the obscene and wayward tone of her conversation with Ipolitt in the living room. It seemed that the tone was not suitable for Pierre's family as if he were a member." Today, when I thought about breaking all this precious relationship... So what? Andre, you know what? She blinked her husband meaningfully and said, "I feel terrible. I feel terrible!" Her back trembled and she spoke softly.
The husband looked at her with that look, as if he were in a panic, because he found that there was another person in the room besides him and Pierre, but he still showed a cold and humble expression, and said to his wife in a tone of doubt:
"Lisa, what are you afraid of? I can't understand." He said.
"What kind of man, men are all egoists, are all egoists ah! He himself abandoned me and confined me to the countryside because he was demanding and overly critical. God knows why.
"With my father and sister, don't forget." Prince Andrey whispered.
"I don't have any friends around me anymore. I'm alone... He wants me not to be afraid."
Her voice was already full of complaints, and her little lips were raised, giving her face an unhappy, squirrel-like animal expression. She was silent, as if she thought it would be disgraceful to talk to Pierre about her pregnancy, which was the essence of the problem.
"I still don't understand what you're afraid of." Prince Andrey looked steadily at his wife and said slowly.
The Duchess blushed and waved her hands in disappointment.
"No, Andre, you've become so powerful, so powerful..."
"Your doctor told you to go to bed early," Prince Andrey said. "You can go to bed."
The Duchess did not say a word. Suddenly her furry little lips trembled; Prince Andrey stood up, shrugged and walked through the room.
Pierre looked at him with his glasses in surprise and childishness, at the Duchess, and he moved as if he wanted to stand up, but changed his mind.
"Mr. Pierre's here is nothing to do with me at all," said the little Duchess suddenly, her beautiful face suddenly showing the ugliness of starting to cry. "Andre, I've long wanted to say to you: Why have you changed your attitude towards me? What's wrong with you? You're going to the army. You don't pity me. Why?
"Lisa!" Prince Andrey said only one word, but it contained both begging and threats, mainly with firm confidence that she would regret what she said, but she was busy continuing to say it:
"You treat me like a patient or a child. I can see it clearly. Did you look like that half a year ago?
"Lisa, please shut up." Prince Andrey said more and more expressively.
As he talked, Pierre became more and more agitated. He stood up and went to the Duchess. It seemed that he could not withstand the influence of tears and was ready to cry out.
"Don't worry, Duchess. This seems to be your imagination, because I want you to believe that I can experience... Why... Because... No, I beg your pardon. It's superfluous for outsiders to be here. No, please rest assured... Goodbye...
Prince Andrey seized one of his hands and asked him to stop.
"Pierre, no, wait a minute. The Duchess is so kind that she doesn't want me to lose the pleasure of spending the night with you."
"No, he only thinks about himself." The Duchess said, and could not help but shed angry tears.
"Lisa," said Prince Andrey indifferently, raising his voice enough to show that his patience was at an end.
The Duchess's charming, pitiable, fearful expression replaced the squirrel-like grievance on her beautiful face; she fronted her forehead and looked at her husband with beautiful eyes, like a dog with a drooping tail waving rapidly and weakly, with a timid and expressive expression on her face. Look.
"Mondieu, mondieu!" The Duchess said, lifting the fold of her dress with one hand, and going to her husband, kissing him on the forehead.
"Bonsoir, Lise." said Prince Andrey. He stood up and kissed her hand respectfully, as if he were near an outsider.
French: My God, my God!
French: Lisa, goodbye.
Friends are silent. Neither of them spoke. From time to time Pierre looked at Prince Andrey, who wiped his forehead with a small hand.
"Let's go to dinner." He sighed and stood up and went to the door.
They went into a newly decorated and elegant restaurant. Everything in the restaurant, from napkins to silver utensils, foreign porcelain and crystal glassware, has the unusual novelty of the daily necessities of young couples. In the middle of the dinner, Prince Andrey propped himself up on his elbow and began to speak. He had a nervous and exciting expression on his face, like a man who had a deep heart and a sudden determination to reveal it all. Pierre had never seen such an expression from his friends.
"My friend, never, never marry; this is my advice to you, before you say that you have done everything you can, before you abandon and love the woman you choose, before you have seen her clearly, don't marry! Otherwise, you will make a big mistake and make it irreparable. Marry again when you're a useless old man... Otherwise, all the good and noble qualities inherent in you will be lost. Everything will be exhausted on trivial matters. Yes, yes, yes! Don't look at me in such amazement. If you have expectations about your future, you will feel everywhere that everything is over and closed except the living room, where you will sit on an equal footing with court servants and idiots and be regarded as first class... That's the way it is!..."
He waved his hand vigorously.
Pierre took off his glasses, his face changed, and he looked at his friend in surprise.
"My wife," continued Prince Andrey, "is a very good woman. She is one of the rare and precious women who can live in peace and pursue honor together. But, my God, as long as I can not marry, I am willing to contribute anything now. It's the first time I've said this to you alone, because I love you.
Prince Andrey spoke differently than before, much less like Borkowski, who was sitting lazily in Anna Pavlovna's easy chair with his hands and feet outstretched, narrowing his eyes and saying a few French words through his teeth. His cold face was trembling with nervous excitement in every muscle, and the fire of life from a pair of eyes seemed to have died out before, but now it was shining. It seems that he usually appears more and more depressed, and more vigorous when he is excited.
"You don't understand why I said that," he went on. "You know, it's all about life. You said, Bonaparte and his promotion. "After he said that, although Pierre did not say anything about Bonaparte," you said about Bonaparte, but when Bonaparte was engaged in his activities and moving step by step towards his goals, he was free and had nothing but what he was pursuing. He finally achieved his goal. But if you tie yourself to a woman like a prisoner in a shackle, you will lose all your freedom. Your hope and strength - all this will only become a burden to you, and you will suffer from regret. Living room, slander, dance, vanity, insignificant things, this is the magic circle I can not get out of. Now I'm going to fight an unprecedented and great war, but I know nothing about it and it's no use at all. JesuBistresamiableettrscaustique. "Prince Andrey continued,"Everyone listened to me at Anna Pavlovna's place. They are a bunch of silly people. Without them, my wife would not be able to live, and these women... I wish you could know who toutesles of emmes distingues and women in general are. My father is right. When women reveal their true face, selfishness, vanity, stupidity and insignificance are the common characteristics of women. Look at the women in the upper class, they seem to have something, but nothing, nothing, nothing! Yes, my heart, don't get married, don't get married." Lord Andrey finished.
French: I am a quick talker.
French: These decent women.
"I think it's ridiculous," Pierre said. "You think you're incompetent and your life is corrupt. In fact, you have a great future, and you are..."
He did not say "How are you?" but his tone showed that he valued his friends and had high hopes for his future.
"How could he say that?" Pierre thought. Pierre believed that Prince Andrey was a model for all, simply because Prince Andrey had a high degree of cohesion of the virtues Pierre lacked, which could be expressed by the concept of "will power". Prince Andrey is good at dealing with all kinds of people calmly. He has extraordinary memory and knowledgeable knowledge (he is well-read, knowledgeable and knowledgeable), especially good at work and learning. Pierre has always been amazed at Prince Andrey's various abilities. If Andre lacks imaginative reasoning (Pierre prefers this area in particular), he does not consider it a weakness, but a source of strength.
Flattery or praise are indispensable in the best, friendly and simple interpersonal relationships, just as carriages and wheels need oiling.
"Jesuisunhommefini," said Prince Andrey, "what can I say about my situation? Let's talk about you, "he said, and after a moment of silence, he smiled at his comforting thoughts.
The smile was also reflected in Pierre's face.
"But what can I say about my situation?" Pierre said, with a pleasant, carefree smile on his lips, "Who am I?" Jesuis unbatard!" He suddenly blushed. Obviously, he did his best to say that, "Sansnom, sansfortune... (3) To tell the truth..." But he didn't say the word "telling the truth." I'm free for the time being, and I feel comfortable. But I don't know what I should do first. I want to seriously discuss with you."
French: I am a hopeless man.
(2) French: an illegitimate child.
(3) French: neither fame nor wealth.
Prince Andrey looked at him with a charitable eye. But in his friendly and gentle eyes, he still showed his superiority.
"In my mind, you are valuable, especially because you are the only activist in our whole upper class society. You feel comfortable. Choose what you want to do. That's the way it is. You'll work everywhere in the future, but there's one thing to remember: you don't go to Kuragin's house anymore. You don't want to live like that anymore. Drinking, cavalry, all this... Not for you."
"Quevoulez-vous, moncher," Pierre shrugged and said, "Lesfemmes, moncher, lesfemmes!" (1)
"I don't understand," Andre answered, "Lesfemmes commeil fautB." That's another thing; but Lesfemmes et levin, the Kuragins, I don't understand!"
French: My friends, there's no way, those women, those women!
French: decent women.
(3) French: Women, women and wine.
Pierre lived in the house of Prince Vassily Kurrakin. He enjoyed a life of drunkenness and pleasure with his son Anatole. It was decided that Anatole should marry Andrey's sister to make him change his past.
"You know, that's the way it is!" Pierre said, as if a wonderful idea had suddenly appeared in his mind. "Really, I've had that idea for a long time. Living this life, I can't make up my mind about anything. I can't think about anything carefully. It's a headache. There's no money left. Today he invited me again. I can't go."
"You promise me you won't go, will you?"
"I promise!"
When Pierre left his friend and walked out of the door, it was more than one o'clock late at night. It's night. It's white in June in Petersburg. Pierre got into a carriage and was going home. But the closer he came to his house, the more he felt that he could not fall asleep at night, which was more like dusk or morning than late night. The empty street can be seen far away. On the way, Pierre recalled that there must be a group of gamblers gathering at Anatoly Kuragin's house this evening. After gambling, it was usual to indulge in wine and pleasure, and the final show was Pierre's favorite entertainment.
"If only I could go to Kuragin's house." He thought to himself. But it immediately occurred to him that he had promised Prince Andrey not to visit the Kuragins.
But, as the so-called indecisive suffered, shortly afterwards he was eager to experience again the decadent life he was familiar with, and he made up his mind to go there. It suddenly occurred to him that the promise was meaningless, for before he made it to Prince Andrey, he had made a promise to Prince Anatoly to visit his house. He finally realized that all these promises were empty assumptions and had no clear meaning, especially when he thought that he might die tomorrow or have special accidents. Therefore, the question of commitment and non-commitment no longer existed. This kind of assertion often occurs in Pierre's mind, which eliminates his various decisions and intentions. He went to Kuragin's house by car.
He arrived in a carriage in front of the porch of a building near Anatoly's guard cavalry barracks. He climbed the brightly lit steps, went up the stairs and entered the open door. There was no one in the reception room, empty bottles, cloaks and slippers were in disorder, and there was a smell of wine. The distant voices and shouts were obscure.
Gambling and dinner are over, but the guests haven't gone home yet. Pierre took off his cloak and entered the first room, where there was only residual wine and leftovers, and a servant; he thought in his heart that no one had noticed him, and quietly drank a few drinks of residual wine. The noise, laughter, familiar shouts and bear roars from the third room were clearly audible. About eight young people crowded around the open window. Three people were playing with a bear, and one was dragging a chained bear on the ground to frighten others.
"I bet Stevens 100 roubles!" Someone shouted.
"Be careful not to help!" Cried another.
"I'm staying on Dolohov!" The third man shouted, "Culakin, break your hands off."
"Hey, throw the bear's Jusa away. There's a bet here!"
"Do all you can, or you will lose." The fourth man shouted.
"Yakov, bring me a bottle of wine, Yakov!" The owner shouted, he was a tall, beautiful man, standing in the middle of the crowd in a thin shirt that bared his chest, "Gentlemen, wait a minute. Look, he's Petrusha, my dear friend." He turned his face to Pierre and said.
Another tall man with bright blue eyes shouted from the window, "Come up here, break your hands for us, bet!" This voice is the most sober and shocking of all these drunken voices. He was Dolohov who lived with Anatoly, an officer of the Seminov Regiment, a well-known gambler and duel fighter. Pierre looked around happily with a smile on his face.
"I don't understand anything. What's the matter? He asked.
"Wait a minute, he's not drunk yet. Give me a bottle of wine." Anatoly said, taking a glass from the table and walking towards Pierre.
"You drink first."
Pierre drank from cup to cup, and the drunken guests, who frowned and looked at the window and crowded around, listened to their conversation. Anatoly poured him wine and told him that Dolohov and the seafarer who had been there, an Englishman named Stevens, bet that he would hang his feet out of the window and sit on the windowsill on the third floor and drink a bottle of strong liquor.
"Hey, drink dry!" Anatoly handed Pierre the last glass of wine and said, "Otherwise, I will not let you go!"
"No, I don't want to drink." Pierre pushed Anatoly aside with his hand, and said, and went to the window.
Dolohov took the British hand and clearly stated the terms of the bet, but mainly dealt with Anatole and Pierre.
Dolohov was a medium-sized man with curly hair and two bright blue eyes. He is about twenty-five years old. Like all army officers, he had no beard, so his mouth was all exposed, which was his amazing facial line. This mouth is very delicate and curved. The upper lip appears to be wedge-shaped in the middle. It is strongly placed on the thick lower lip. Two dimples with smiles often appear at the corners of the mouth. All this, especially with his clever, firm and unrestrained eyes, created the impression that it was necessary to draw attention to the face. Dolohov was a poor man with no human relationship. Although Anatoly spent tens of thousands of roubles in cash, Dolohov lived with him and won praise for himself. Their acquaintances compared Dolohov with Anatoly and respected him more than Dolohov and Anatoly. Dolohov gambled and almost always won. No matter how much he drinks, he never loses his sober mind. Dolohov and Kula were both well-known figures in Petersburg's prodigal and alcoholic fields.
A bottle of liqueur was brought. The window frame prevented people from sitting on the side wall outside the window, so two servants took it down. The men around them pointed and scratched their feet and kept shouting, making them panic and shy.
Anatole, with a triumphant air, went to the window. He couldn't help destroying something. He pushed the servants aside and dragged the window frame, but he could not drag it. He broke the glass.
"Hello, you Hercules." He turned his face to Pierre and said.
Pierre grabbed the crossbar and dragged it like a wooden window frame rattling. He broke it in some places and twisted it off in others.
"Take the whole frame apart, or else you think I'm going to have an armrest." Dolohov said.
"That Englishman is boasting... Isn't it?... How about it?
..." Anatoly said.
"All right." Pierre looked at Dolohov and said, Dolohov took a bottle of strong liquor and was walking towards the window, where he could see the light of the sky, the dawn and the sunset in the sky.
Dolohov jumped on the windowsill with a bottle of liquor in his hand.
"Listen to me! "He faced the room and stood on the windowsill and shouted. Everyone was silent.
"I bet (he speaks French to make the Englishman understand him, but he doesn't speak very well), I bet fifty golden rubles, you want to bet a hundred?" He added, turning his face to the English.
"No, just gamble fifty." The Englishman said.
"Well, bet fifty golden rubles," they agreed, "I'm going to drink a whole bottle of liquor and sugar in one breath, sit outside the windowsill without holding anything on my hands, and drink it dry in this place (he bent down and pointed his finger at the prominent part of the inclined wall outside the window)... That's it, okay?..."
"Very good." The Englishman said.
Anatole turned to the Englishman, grabbed the button on his tuxedo, looked down at him (the Englishman was short), and began to repeat the terms of the bet to him in French.
"Wait a minute!" To draw attention to him, Dolohov knocked on the window with a bottle and shouted, "Kuragin, wait a minute, listen to me. If anyone does that, I'll pay a hundred rubles. Do you understand?"
The Englishman nodded and refused to make it clear whether he was willing or unwilling to accept the new terms of the bet. Anatole was reluctant to let go of the Englishman, who nodded his head, but knew everything in his heart. Anatole used English to translate Dolohov's words to him. A young, bony boy, the guard hussars, lost money that night, so he climbed up the windowsill and looked down.
"Scared!" Frighten!... Frighten!..." He looked out of the window at the slabs on the sidewalk and said.
"Quiet!" Dolohov shouted, pulling the officer down from the windowsill, and the officer who was caught in a spur jumped uncomfortably into the room.
Dolohov put the bottle on the windowsill so that it could be easily picked up. He climbed up the window cautiously and quietly. He lowered his legs, supported the window edge with both hands, looked at it for a while, sat down, then opened his hands, moved left to right, and got a bottle. Anatoly brought two candles and laid them on the windowsill, although it was dawn, and the two candles illuminated Dolohov's back in a white shirt and his curly hair from both sides. Everyone was crowded around the window. The Englishman stood in front of everyone. Pierre smiled and said nothing. One of the oldest people present, with an angry, panicky look, suddenly rushed forward to grab Dolohov's shirt.
"Gentlemen, it's foolish. He'll fall to death." Said the wiser man.
Anatole stopped him.
"Don't touch him. You'll frighten him. He'll fall to death. How about?... So why?... Ouch..."
Dolohov turned his head and sat more smoothly, supporting the edge of the window with both hands.
"If anyone comes to me again," he said intermittently through his tight thin lips, "I'll throw him down here. Never mind!..."
He said "no matter", then turned around, stretched out his hands, put a bottle on his mouth, head back, and raised an empty hand, so as to stabilize his body. A servant was picking up the glass. He stood motionless and bent, looking at the window and Dolohov's back. Anatole stood upright with wide eyes. The Englishman pouted his lips and watched from one side. The man who wanted to stop him ran into the corner and lay on the sofa facing the wall. Pierre covered his face with his hand, and though there was a look of terror on his face, he kept a faintly smiling expression. Everyone was silent. Pierre took away his blindfolded hand. Dolohov sat in the same posture, but his head turned backwards, and the curls on his back hit the collar of his shirt. His hands lifted the bottle higher and higher, trembling and struggling. The bottle was apparently almost empty, and it was raised and its head was twisted. "How did it last so long?" Pierre thought about it. It seemed to him that more than half an hour had passed. Dolohov turned his back and a nervous hand trembled, enough to propel the whole body sitting on the leaning sidewall. He moved all over, his hands and head trembling and struggling. One hand raised and grabbed the windowsill, but it slid down again. Pierre put his hand over his eyes again and said to himself, "Never open it." Suddenly he felt that everything around him was shaking slightly. He looked at him: Dolohov was standing on the windowsill, pale, but with a happy look.
"The bottle is empty."
He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who took it flexibly. Dolohov jumped out of the window. He smelled of sweet wine.
"Great! Good job! That's a bet! You're amazing!" Everyone shouted from all sides.
The Englishman took out his wallet and counted the money. Dolohov was sad and silent. Pierre jumped up the windowsill.
"Gentlemen! Who's willing to bet with me? I'll do it again, "he suddenly shouted." No bets, listen to me, I'll do the same. Please tell me to bring me a bottle of wine. I will do it. Please tell me to bring me a bottle of wine."
"Let him do it, let him do it!" Dolohov said with a smile.
"What are you doing? Are you crazy? Who will let you do it? You'll feel dizzy just standing on the ladder. Everyone talks from all sides.
"I'll be able to drink it dry. Give me a bottle of strong sweet bar!" Pierre cried, making a firm drunk gesture, thumping his chair and climbing up the window.
Someone grabbed his hand, but he was strong enough to push those close to him far away.
"No, you can't convince him at all," Anatoly said. "Wait a minute. I'll fool him. Listen to me. Make a bet with you, but about tomorrow, now we are all going to * home.
"Let's go by car," Pierre cried. "Let's go by car!"
Take the bear Misha, too.
So he grabbed the bear in a hurry, held it up, danced with it in the room, and twisted his legs.
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