Count Bezuhov suffered a stroke for the sixth time when the musicians were playing out of tune accompanied by sleepy music and the weary waiters and boarders were preparing dinner. Doctors announced that he had no hope of recovery. Some people gave the patient a confession ceremony and a communion ceremony, and prepared for the oil-smearing ceremony. At such moments, the people in this house are always in a state of confusion and anxious anticipation. The coffin sellers gathered outside the door of the house. When a carriage approached, they hid aside. They waited for the burial of the count's coffin to make a lot of money. The commander-in-chief of the Moscow Military Region sent his deputy officers to inquire about the count's illness, and that evening he personally came by car to say goodbye to Count Bezuhov, a senior official of the Yekaterina era.
The gorgeous reception room was crowded with people. When the Commander-in-Chief of the Military Region stayed alone with the sick for about half an hour and came out, everyone stood up respectfully. He bowed slightly in reply, hoping to pass by the doctors, clergy and relatives who gazed at him as soon as possible. These days, Prince Vassily looked thin and pale, accompanied by the commander-in-chief of the military region, whispered something to him repeatedly.
After Prince Vassily had given up the commander-in-chief of the Military Region, he sat down alone in a chair in the hall. He put one leg high on the other leg, supported his knees with his elbows, and covered his eyes with his hands. After sitting there for a moment, he stood up and looked around in horror. Unlike usual, he hurried through the corridor to find the princess in the backyard of the house.
In the dimly lit room, people whisper to each other, if the voice is intermittent, whenever someone comes in and out of the dormitory door leading to the dying man, the door makes a faint noise, people are silent, looking at the door with doubts and expectations.
"The fate of man," said an old clergyman to a woman sitting next to him and listening to him childishly, "is doomed and insurmountable.
"I think it's not too late to have the ceremony of painting holy oil?" The lady added the clergyman's title and asked, as if she had no objection to it.
"Madame, this sacrament is very solemn." The clergyman answered, touching the bald patches of grey hair with his hands.
"Who on earth is he?" Is it the Commander-in-Chief of the Military Region himself? Someone at the other end of the room asked, "How young he looks!"
"More than sixty years old! It is said that the count does not recognize him, does he? Do you want to hold the ceremony of smearing holy oil?
"There's a man I know. He's been anointed seven times."
The Duke's second lady stepped out of the patient's bedroom, tears stained, and she sat down beside Dr. Roland, who was sitting gracefully under the portrait of Yekaterina, elbowed on the table.
"Tr'sbeau," the doctor said in reply to the weather question, "tr sbeau, princesse, etpuis, Moscouonsecroit Lacom Bpagne."
"N'est-ce-pas?" The Duchess sighed.'Can you give him water?'
Roland pondered.
"Did he take the medicine?"
"Yes."
The doctor looked at Brigg's pocket watch.
"Please take a glass of boiled water and put it in unepinc e (what does unepince mean by his slender fingers). decremortartari..." 3.
French: Very good - Duchess, the weather is good, and Moscow is very similar to the countryside.
(2) French: Is it true?
(3) French: a pinch of tartar.
"You can survive without three strokes," the German doctor said to the adjutant.
"What an energetic man he used to be!" The adjutant said. "Who will the property belong to?" He added softly.
"There will be voluntary successors." The German smiled and answered.
Everyone looked at the door again. The door creaked. The Duke's second lady made a drink according to Roland's instructions and sent it to the patient. The German doctor went to Roland.
"Maybe he can put it off till tomorrow morning?" Asked the German, speaking in broken French.
Roland flicked his lips and waved his finger seriously in front of his nose, expressing disapproval.
"Not later tonight." He whispered that he was complacent because he could clearly understand and explain the patient's condition. He walked away with a gentle smile on his face.
Meanwhile, the Duke of Vassily opened the door of the Duchess.
The room is half bright and half dark. In front of the statue were only two long lights. Spiritual fragrance and flowers exude refreshing fragrance. This room is full of small cabinets, cupboards, tea tables and other small furniture. Behind the fence, you can see the snow-white sheets on the high couch with fluffy mattresses.
"Oh, it's you, my cousin?"
She stood up and smoothed her hair, which had always been, and even now was, flat and glossy, as if it had been made of the same material as her head, and had been coated with paint.
"Why, what's the matter?" "I'm terrified," she asked.
"Nothing, it's still like that, Kadish. I'm just coming to talk to you about one thing," said the Duke, sitting sleepily in the easy chair she had just sat in. "But you've heated the chair," he said. "Come and sit here, cauBsons." (1)
French: Let's talk.
"I thought something had happened," said the princess, sitting opposite the prince with the usual solemn and stiff expression, ready to listen to him.
"My cousin, I want to sleep for a while, but I can't sleep."
"How about my dear?" Prince Vassily said that he took the princess's hand and used to give it a gentle click.
It can be seen that the words "how" are related to many things that they can understand each other without opening their mouths.
The princess's waist was thin and stiff, too long for her legs. Her grey eyes protruded, and she looked at the prince in a straight, cold way. She shook her head, sighed and looked at the statue. Her posture can show her infinite loyalty, but her inner sorrow can also show that she is very tired, hoping to get a quick rest, Prince Vassily described her posture as a sign of sleepiness.
"And I think," he said, "do you think I feel lighter? Jesuis reint, commeunchevaldeposte, (1) Kadish, but I want to talk to you, very seriously.
French: I'm exhausted, like a post-horse.
Duke Vassily was silent, his cheeks twitching nervously from time to time, making his face look unpleasant when he stopped in the living room. His eyes were also abnormal, sometimes looking at people in an impertinent, funny way, and sometimes looking around in panic.
The Princess held the puppy on her knees with lean hands and looked intently into Prince Vassily's eyes. However, it seemed that she could not break the silence by asking questions even if she kept silent till morning.
"Do you know, my dear princess, cousin, Katerina Seminovna?" said Prince Vassily. It seemed that there was no lack of inner struggle to keep talking. "At a moment like this, everything should be considered, the future should be taken into account, and all of you... I love you as much as I love my children, you know that."
The Duchess still looked at him with dim, unmoving eyes.
"Finally, I should consider my family," continued Prince Vassily, pushing aside the tea table beside him angrily without looking at her. "Kadish, you know, the three sisters of your Mamontov family, but also my wife, we are the direct heirs of the count. I know, I know, you feel terrible talking about these things and thinking about them. I don't feel relaxed either; but my friend, I'm in my fifties and I have to be prepared for everything. I sent for Pierre. Did you know that the count pointed his hand straight at his portrait and asked him to come to him?
Prince Vassily looked at the princess with questioning eyes, but he could not make out whether she was thinking of what he said to her or looking at him casually... "I've been praying to God for one thing, moncousin," she answered. "Pray that God will forgive him and let his noble soul leave this in peace..."
"Yes, that's right," continued Prince Vassily impatiently, rubbing his bald head with his hand and moving the tea table away indignantly. "But in the end, the problem is, you know, going to the Earl of Winter to write his will and leave all his business to Pierre, all of us. The immediate heirs have no share."
"Let him write the will, that's all right," said the princess calmly, "but he can't give Pierre his inheritance. Pierre is an illegitimate son."
"Machre," said Prince Vassily suddenly, clinging to the coffee table, showing a lively look and speaking faster, "what if the count tells the king to ask Pierre to be his son? You see, by virtue of the count's merit, his request will be respected...
Some people think they know more about themselves than the other person in the conversation. They smile, and so does the Duchess.
"I have more to say to you," continued Prince Vassily, grabbing her hand. "The letter has been written, and although it has not yet been sent, the king knows the details, but the question is whether it was burnt. If it hadn't been burned down, everything would have been finished in the near future." The Duke of Vassily sighed to make it clear what it meant to say, "Everything's going to be over." Once the count's papers were opened, his will and letters would be submitted to the king, and his request would probably be respected. Pierre, as a legitimate son, will have all his possessions."
"And what about our heritage?" Asked the princess, smiling sarcastically, as if everything would happen, except that it would not happen.
"Mais, mapauvre Catiche, c'estclair, commelejour, at that time, only he was the legitimate heir of all the inheritance, you must not get your own share. My dear, you must know whether the will and memorial have been written or burnt. If these two things are forgotten, you should know where they are and find them one by one, because..."
"What a foolish thing!" The Princess interrupted him with a malicious smile and no change in the expression of her eyes. "I am a woman. In your opinion, we are all fools. However, as far as I know, illegitimate children can not inherit the inheritance... "Unbatard," she added, thinking that by translating, the Duke could have a thorough understanding of his lack of inheritance.
French: But Kadish, that's a clear story.
(2) French: illegitimate child.
"Kadish, why don't you always understand! How can you not understand that you are so clever? If the count wrote a memorial to the king, he would ask the king to admit that his son was lawful. So Pierre is no longer Pierre, but Count Bezuhov. Will he have all his inheritance by that time? If the will and the memorial are not burnt down, then you can get nothing but noble virtue and consolation.
That's quite true."
"I know that the will has been written, but I also know that it does not take effect. You seem to think that I am a complete fool, moncousin," said the princess, with the same air as those of women who think they have made insulting and witty remarks.
"You are my dear Princess Catherine Seminovna!" Prince Vassily said impatiently, "I have come to you not to quarrel with you, but to talk to a loved one, a kind and sincere loved one about your personal interests. I tell you for the tenth time that if the count's papers contain a memorial to the king and a will in Pierre's favour, then, my dear, you and your sisters are not heirs to the estate. If you don't believe me, you can trust the person who knows it: I just talked to Dmitry Onuvrijc (he's a family lawyer), and that's what he said.
Apparently, something had suddenly changed in the Princess's mind. Her thin lips had turned pale (her eyes were the same). When she spoke, her voice was intermittent, which was obviously not what she had expected.
"That's good," she said. "I didn't want anything before, and I don't want anything now."
She threw the dog down from her knee and smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress.
"That's gratitude, that's gratitude to those who sacrificed everything for him," she said. "Great! Very good! Duke, I don't want anything."
"Yes, but you're not alone. You have several sisters." Prince Vassily answered.
But the princess did not listen to him.
"Yes, that's something I've known for a long time, but I've forgotten it. Apart from despicability, deception, jealousy, intrigue, ingratitude and blackhearted ingratitude, I can't expect anything in this house..."
"Do you know, or do you not know where the will is? Asked Prince Vassily, his cheeks were more spasmodic than before.
"Yes, I am very foolish, trusting people, loving them, and sacrificing myself. But only those despicable bad guys will be comfortable with it. I know who did this conspiracy."
The princess wanted to stand up, but the prince held her hand tightly and refused to let her go. The Duchess looked like a man suddenly feeling pessimistic and disappointed with all mankind; she looked at the other side of the conversation with indignation.
"My friend, time still exists. Keep in mind, Kadish, that these things happen by accident, when you are angry and sick, and then you forget. My dear, it is our duty to correct his mistake, to prevent him from doing such unfair things, to alleviate his suffering at the time of his death, and to prevent him from thinking in his mind of making those people die unfortunately..."
"Those who sacrificed everything for him," answered the princess, struggling to stand up, but the Prince did not let her go. "He never valued them. No, moncousin, "she added with a sigh." I want to remember that there is no honor or justice in this world where rewards can not be expected. Be cunning and vicious in this world."
"Come on, voyons, quiet down, I know your kindness."
French: OK.
"No, my heart is vicious."
"I know your heart," repeated the Duke. "I cherish your friendship and hope you have the same view of me. Be quiet, Parlons Rai Bson. Time still exists, maybe one day and one night, maybe only one hour. Tell me all you know about the will. The main thing is, where the will is, you should know. We'll show it to the count at once. He probably forgot it. He wants to destroy it. You know in your heart that my only wish is to sacrifice his will, and that's why I came here. I'm here just to help him and you."
"Now I understand everything. I know who did this conspiracy. I know." Said the princess.
"My heart and soul, that's not the case."
"She is your protector, your dear Anna Mihailovna, this despicable and abhorrent woman, I would not accept to be my maidservant."
"Neperdon spoint detemps." 2
"Ah, don't you say that! She came here quietly in the winter and said a lot of dirty words to the count, especially to Sophie, which made it impossible for me to repeat. The count was sick and refused to meet us for a week or two. I know he wrote this disgusting document just at this time, but I think it's meaningless."
"Nousyvoila, why didn't you tell me earlier?"
French: Let's talk seriously.
French: Let's not waste time.
French: That's the problem.
"In the inlaid leather bag under his pillow. I know now,'said the Duchess, without answering him.'Yes, if I were guilty and guilty all over the world, that's why I hate this damn woman.'The Duchess almost cried out, and her face changed.'Why did she creep in here quietly? I'll tell her what I'm going to say, and then I'll say it all! "
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