PRINCE ANDREY BOLKONSKY was lying on the hill of Pratzen, on the spot where he had fallen with the flagstaff in his hands. He was losing blood, and kept moaning a soft, plaintive, childish moan, of which he himself knew nothing. Towards evening he ceased moaning and became perfectly still. He did not know how long his unconsciousness lasted. Suddenly he felt again that he was alive and suffering from a burning, lacerating pain in his head.
“Where is it, that lofty sky that I knew not till now and saw to-day?” was his first thought. “And this agony I did not know either,” he thought. “Yes, I knew nothing, nothing till now. But where am I?”
He fell to listening, and caught the sound of approaching hoofs and voices speaking French. He opened his eyes. Above him was again the same lofty sky, with clouds higher than ever floating over it, and between them stretches of blue infinity. He did not turn his head and did not see the men who, judging from the voices and the thud of hoofs, had ridden up to him and stopped.
They were Napoleon and two adjutants escorting him. Bonaparte, making a tour of the field of battle, had been giving his last instructions for the strengthening of the battery firing at the Augest dam, and was inspecting the dead and wounded on the field of battle.
“Fine men!” said Napoleon, looking at a dead Russian grenadier, who with his face thrust into the earth and blackened neck lay on his stomach, one stiff arm flung wide.
“The field-guns have exhausted their ammunition,” said an adjutant, arriving that moment from the battery that was firing at Augest.
“Bring up more from the reserve,” said Napoleon, and riding a few steps away stood still, looking at Prince Andrey, who lay on his back with the abandoned flagstaff beside him (the flag had been taken by the French as a trophy).
“That's a fine death!” said Napoleon, looking at Bolkonsky. Prince Andrey knew that it was said of him, and that it was Napoleon saying it. He heard the speaker of those words addressed as “your majesty.” But he heard the words as he heard the buzzing of flies. It was not merely that he took no interest in them, but he did not attend to them and at once forgot them. There was a burning pain in his head; he felt he was losing blood, and he saw above him the high, far-away, everlasting sky. He knew it was Napoleon—his hero—but at that moment Napoleon seemed to him such a small, insignificant creature in comparison with what was passing now between his soul and that lofty, limitless sky with the clouds flying over it. It meant nothing to him at that moment who was standing over him, what was being said of him. He was only glad that people were standing over him, and his only desire was that these people should help him and bring him back to life, which seemed to him so good, because he saw it all quite differently now. He made a supreme effort to stir and utter some sound. He moved his leg faintly, and uttered a weak, sickly moan that touched himself. “Ah, he's alive,” said Napoleon. “Pick up this young man and carry him to an ambulance!” Saying this, Napoleon rode on to meet Marshal Lannes, who rode up to meet the conqueror, smiling, taking off his hat and congratulating him on his victory.
Prince Andrey remembered nothing more; he lost consciousness from the excruciating pain caused by being laid on the stretcher, the jolting while he was being moved, and the sounding of his wound at the ambulance. He only regained consciousness towards the end of the day when with other Russian officers, wounded and prisoners, he was being taken to the hospital. On this journey he felt a little stronger, and could look about him and even speak.
The first words he heard on coming to himself were from a French convoy officer who was saying hurriedly: “They must stop here; the Emperor will be here directly; it will be a pleasure for him to see these prisoners.”
“There are such a lot of prisoners to-day, almost the whole of the Russian army, that he is probably weary of seeing them,” said another officer.
“Well, but this one, they say, is the commander of all the Emperor Alexander's guards,” said the first speaker, pointing to a wounded Russian officer in the white uniform of the horse-guards. Bolkonsky recognised Prince Repnin, whom he had met in Petersburg society. Beside him stood another officer of the horse-guards, a lad of nineteen, also wounded.
Bonaparte rode up at a gallop and pulled up. “Who is the senior officer?” he said, on seeing the prisoners.
They named the colonel, Prince Repnin.
“Are you the commander of the regiment of Emperor Alexander's horse-guards?” asked Napoleon.
“I was in command of a squadron,” replied Repnin.
“Your regiment did its duty honourably,” said Napoleon.
“The praise of a great general is a soldier's best reward,” said Repnin.
“I bestow it upon you with pleasure,” said Napoleon. “Who is this young man beside you?” Prince Repnin gave his name, Lieutenant Suhtelen.
Looking at him, Napoleon said with a smile: “He has come very young to meddle with us.”
“Youth is no hindrance to valour,” said Suhtelen in a breaking voice.
“A fine answer,” said Napoleon; “young man, you will go far.”
Prince Andrey, who had been thrust forward under the Emperor's eyes to complete the show of prisoners, could not fail to attract his notice. Napoleon apparently remembered seeing him on the field, and addressing him he used the same epithet, “young man,” with which his first sight of Bolkonsky was associated in his memory.
“And you, young man,” he said to him, “how are you feeling, mon brave?”
Although five minutes previously Prince Andrey had been able to say a few words to the soldiers who were carrying him, he was silent now, with his eyes fastened directly upon Napoleon. So trivial seemed to him at that moment all the interests that were engrossing Napoleon, so petty seemed to him his hero, with his paltry vanity and glee of victory, in comparison with that lofty, righteous, and kindly sky which he had seen and comprehended, that he could not answer him. And all indeed seemed to him so trifling and unprofitable beside the stern and solemn train of thought aroused in him by weakness from loss of blood, by suffering and the nearness of death. Gazing into Napoleon's eyes, Prince Andrey mused on the nothingness of greatness, on the nothingness of life, of which no one could comprehend the significance, and on the nothingness—still more—of death, the meaning of which could be understood and explained by none of the living.
The Emperor, after vainly pausing for a reply, turned away and said to one of the officers in command—
“See that they look after these gentlemen and take them to my bivouac; let my doctor Larrey attend to their wounds. Au revoir, Prince Repnin,” and he galloped away.
His face was radiant with happiness and self-satisfaction.
The soldiers, who had been carrying Prince Andrey, had come across the golden relic Princess Marya had hung upon her brother's neck, and taken it off him, but seeing the graciousness the Emperor had shown to the prisoners, they made haste to restore the holy image.
Prince Andrey did not see who put it on him again, nor how it was replaced, but all at once he found the locket on its delicate gold chain on his chest outside his uniform.
“How good it would be,” thought Prince Andrey, as he glanced at the image which his sister had hung round his neck with such emotion and reverence, “how good it would be if all were as clear and simple as it seems to Marie. How good to know where to seek aid in this life and what to expect after it, there, beyond the grave!”
“How happy and at peace I should be, if I could say now, ‘Lord, have mercy on me!…' But to whom am I to say that? Either a Power infinite, inconceivable, to which I cannot appeal, which I cannot even put into words, the great whole, or nothing,” he said to himself, “or that God, who has been sewn up here in this locket by Marie? There is nothing, nothing certain but the nothingness of all that is comprehensible to us, and the grandeur of something incomprehensible, but more important!”
The stretchers began to be moved. At every jolt he felt intolerable pain again. The fever became higher, and he fell into delirium. Visions of his father, his wife, his sister, and his future son, and the tenderness he had felt for them on the night before the battle, the figure of that little, petty Napoleon, and over all these the lofty sky, formed the chief substance of his delirious dreams. The quiet home life and peaceful happiness of Bleak Hills passed before his imagination. He was enjoying that happiness when suddenly there appeared that little Napoleon with his callous, narrow look of happiness in the misery of others, and there came doubts and torments, and only the sky promised peace. Towards morning all his dreams mingled and melted away in the chaos and darkness of unconsciousness and oblivion, far more likely, in the opinion of Napoleon's doctor, Larrey, to be ended by death than by recovery.
“He is a nervous, bilious subject,” said Larrey; “he won't recover.”
Prince Andrey, with the rest of the hopeless cases, was handed over to the care of the inhabitants of the district.
安德烈·博尔孔斯基公爵正躺在普拉茨山上他拿着旗杆倒下的那个地方，身上流淌着鲜血，连他自己也不知道他正在轻声地、凄厉地、孩提般地呻吟。
时近黄昏，他不再呻吟，完全安静下来了。他不知道他那不省人事的状态持续了多久。忽然他觉得自己还活着，他的头颅像炸碎似地剧痛，十分难受。
“这个高高的天空在哪里，这个我至今还不知道，现时才看见的高高的天空在哪里？”这是他脑海中首先想到的事情。
“这种痛苦，我并不晓得。”他想了想。“是的，我迄今一无所知，一无所知。可是我在哪里呢？”
他开始谛听并且听见渐渐临近的马蹄声和用法语说话的声音。他张开了眼睛。他的上方仍旧是那高高的天空和飘浮得更高的云彩，透过云彩可以看见蔚蓝的无边无际的天空。他没有转过头来，没有望见那些只凭马蹄声和谈话声就能判明已经向他驰近、停止前进的人们。
向他驰近的骑者是拿破仑和随行的两名副官。波拿巴在视察战场时发出最后的命令：加强那射击奥格斯特堤坝的炮台，并且审视战场上的伤亡战士。
“Debeauxhommes！”①拿破仑瞧着一名战死的掷弹兵说。他俯卧着，后脑勺发黑，脸埋在土里，一只已经变得僵硬的手伸得很远很远。
“Lesmunitionsdespiecesdepositionsontépuiseés，sire！②”这时有一名从射击奥格斯特村的炮台所在地驰来的副官说道。
①法语：光荣的人民！
②法语：陛下，再也没有炮弹了！
“Faitesavancercellesdelareserve，”①拿破仑说道，向一旁走了几步，在那仰卧的安德烈公爵跟前停步了，旗杆被扔在安德烈公爵的身边（法军已夺去军旗，将它作为战利品）。
“Voilaunelellemost，”②拿破仑瞧着博尔孔斯基说。
安德烈公爵心中明白，这正是指他而言，拿破仑说了这番话。他听见有人把这个说话的人称为sive。③但是这些话他听起来就像听见苍蝇发出嗡嗡的声音，他非但不感兴趣，而且不予以理会，听后立刻忘记得一干二净。他的头部感到一阵灼痛，他觉得他的血液快要流完了，他看见他的上方的遥远的高高的永恒的天空。他知道这是拿破仑——他心目中的英雄，但是在这个时刻，与他的内心和那一望无垠的高空以及空际的翔云之间所发生的各种情况相比较，他仿佛觉得拿破仑是如此渺小，如此微不足道。在这个时刻，不管什么人站在他跟前，不管谈到什么有关他的事情，他都满不在乎，他感到高兴的只是，人们都在他面前停步，他所冀望的只是，人们都来援救他，使他得以复生，他觉得生命是如此宝贵，因为地现在对它的理解有所不同了。他鼓足了全身的力气，想使自己的身体微微地移动一下，发出一个什么音来。他软弱无力地移动一下脚，发出怜悯他自己的微弱而痛苦的呻吟。
“哦！他还活着，”拿破仑说，“把这个青年抬起来，（Cejeunehomme）送到裹伤站去！”
①法语：吩咐从后备队中把炮弹运去。
②法语：这才是善终。
③法语：陛下。
说完这句话，拿破仑便迎着拉纳元帅走去，这位元帅脱下礼帽，向皇帝面前驰来，一面微露笑容，一面恭贺胜利。
后来安德烈什么都不记得了，因为有人把他搁在担架上，担架员行走时引起的震荡和在裹伤站探测伤口，使他感到阵阵剧痛，他因此失去知觉。到了白昼的尽头，他才苏醒过来了，这时候他和其他一些俄国的负伤军官、被俘军官一并被送到野战医院。在转移时他觉得自己的精力已稍事恢复，已经能够环顾四周，甚至能够开口说话了。
在他苏醒后他首先听到的是法国护卫军官讲的几句话，他急急忙忙地说：
“要在这儿停下来，皇帝马上驾临了，目睹这些被俘的先生会使他感到高兴的。”
“现在，俘虏太多了，俄国的军队几乎全部被俘了，这事儿大概会使他厌烦的。”另一名军官说道。
“啊，竟有这样的事！据说，这位是亚历山大皇帝的整个近卫军的指挥官。”第一名军官指着那个身穿重骑兵白色制服的被俘的俄国军官时说道。
博尔孔斯基认出了他在彼得堡上流社会中遇见的列普宁公爵。另一名年方十九岁的男孩站在他身旁，他也是一名负伤的重骑兵军官。
波拿巴策马疾驰而来，他勒住战马。
“谁是长官？”他看见这些俘虏后说道。
有人说出了上校列普宁公爵的名字。
“您是亚历山大皇帝的重骑兵团团长吗？”拿破仑问道。
“我指挥过骑兵连。”列普宁回答。
“伟大统率的赞扬是对士兵的最佳奖赏。”列普宁说。
“我很高兴地给予您奖赏，”拿破仑说，“这个站在您身边的年轻人是谁？”
列普宁公爵说出中尉苏赫特伦的名字。
拿破仑朝他瞥了一眼，面露微笑地说道：
“Ilestvenubienjeunesefrotteranous。”①
①法语：他硬要闯来和我们打仗，太年轻了。
“年轻并不妨碍我当一名勇士，”苏赫特伦用那若断若续的嗓音说。
“回答得很好，”拿破仑说道，“年轻人，前程远大。”
为了充分展示战利品——俘虏，安德烈公爵也被摆到前面来，让皇帝亲眼瞧瞧，他不能不引起皇帝的注意。看来拿破仑想起他在战场上见过他，于是向他转过脸来说话，说话时使用的正是“青年”（jeunehomme）这个称呼，博尔孔斯基衬托以“青年”二字头一次映入他的记忆中。
“唔，是您，青年人？”他把脸转向他，说道。“您觉得怎样？我的勇士。”
虽然，五分钟以前安德烈公爵可以对抬他的士兵们说几句话，但是，现在他两眼直勾勾地望着拿破仑，沉默无言了……他仿佛觉得，在这个时刻，与他所看见和所理解的正直而仁慈的高空相比较，那使拿破仑着迷的各种利益是如此微不足道，他仿佛觉得，他心目中的英雄怀有卑鄙的虚荣和胜利的欢愉，竟是如此渺小，——以致使他不能回答他的问题。
而且，因为流尽了鲜血，他虚弱无力，痛苦不堪，等待即将来临的死亡，这在他心中产生了严肃而宏伟的思想，而这一切与之相比照，显得如此无益和微不足道。安德烈公爵端详着拿破仑的一双眼睛，心里想到丰功伟绩的渺小，谁也不能弄明白其涵义的生命的渺小，而且想到死亡的毫无价值，事实上在活人当中谁也不能理解和说明死亡的意义。
皇帝没有等他回答，就扭过脸去，临行时他对一名长官说：“叫他们照料这些先生，把他们送到我的野营地去，叫我的医生拉雷给他们检查伤口。列普宁公爵，再见。”于是他驱马向前奔驰而去。
他的脸上流露着自满和幸福的光彩。
这几名抬安德烈公爵的士兵摘下了那尊公爵小姐玛丽亚挂在哥哥身上的、偶然被他们发现的金质小神像，但是他们看见皇帝温和地对待战俘，于是就急忙把小神像还给他了。
安德烈公爵没有看见是谁怎样地又把小神像挂在他身上了，但是那尊系有细金链的神像忽然悬挂在他胸前的制服上。
“那就太好了，”安德烈公爵望了望那尊他妹妹满怀厚意和敬慕的心情给他挂在胸前的小神像，心中思忖了一下，“如果一切都像公爵小姐玛丽亚脑海中想象的那样简单而明了，那就太好了。假如知道，在这一生要在何方去寻找帮助，在盖棺之后会有什么事件发生，那就太好了！如果我目前能够这样说：老天爷，饶了我吧！……那么我会感到何等幸福和安宁！可是我向谁说出这句话呢？或则向那个不明确的、不可思议的力量诉说——我不仅不能诉诸于它，而且不能用言词向它表达：这一切至为伟大，抑或渺小，”他喃喃自语，“或则向公爵小姐玛丽亚缝在这个护身香囊里的上帝诉说吗？除开我所明了的各种事物的渺小和某种不可理解的、但却至为重要的事物的伟大而外，并无任何事物，并无任何事物值得坚信不移啊！”
担架被抬了起来，出发了。担架一颠簸，他又会感到难以忍受的疼痛，发冷发热的状态更加剧烈了，他开始发谵语。对父亲、妻子和妹妹的叨念、对未来的想望，作战前夕他所体验到的温情、矮小的、微不足道的拿破仑的身躯和位于这一切之上的高空——便构成他在热病状态中所产生的模糊观念的主要基础。
他脑海中浮现出童山的幽静生活和安逸的家庭幸福。他已经在享受这种幸福了，忽然间那个身材矮小的拿破仑在面前出现了，他流露出冷漠无情、愚昧平庸、因为别人不幸而显得幸运的眼神，于是痛苦和疑惑开始随之而生，唯有天空才应允赐予人以慰藉。这种种幻觉在凌晨之前已混为一团，继之汇合成朦胧的不省人事的昏厥状态，依据拿破仑的御医拉雷的意见，这种病情的结局十之八九是死亡，而不是痊愈。
“C'estunsujetnerveuxetbilieux，”拉雷说。“Iln'enrechapperapas．”①
①法语：这是个神经质的，易动肝火的人，他是不会复元的。
安德烈公爵属于其他无可挽救的伤员之列，他已被交给当地居民照应去了。
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