NEXT DAY Prince Andrey took leave of the count alone and set off on his way home, without waiting for the ladies to appear.

It was the beginning of June when Prince Andrey, on his return journey, drove again into the birch forest, in which the old, gnarled oak had made upon him so strange and memorable an impression. The ringing of the bells did not carry so far now in the forest as six weeks before. Everything was fully out, thick, and shut in. And the young firs, dotted about the forest, did not break the general beauty, but, subdued to the same character as the rest, were softly green with their feathery bunches of young needles.

The whole day had been hot; a storm was gathering, but only a small rain-cloud had sprinkled the dust of the road and the sappy leaves. The left side of the forest was dark, lying in shadow. The right side, glistening with the raindrops, gleamed in the sunlight, faintly undulating in the wind. Everything was in flower, the nightingales twittered and carolled, now close, now far away.

“Yes, it was here, in this forest, I saw that oak, with whom I was in sympathy,” thought Prince Andrey. “But where is he?” he thought again as he gazed at the left side of the road, and, all unaware and unrecognising, he was admiring the very oak he was seeking. The old oak, utterly transformed, draped in a tent of sappy dark green, basked faintly, undulating in the rays of the evening sun. Of the knotted fingers, the gnarled excrescences, the aged grief and mistrust—nothing was to be seen. Through the rough, century-old bark, where there were no twigs, leaves had burst out so sappy, so young, that it was hard to believe that aged creature had borne them.

“Yes, that is the same tree,” thought Prince Andrey, and all at once there came upon him an irrational, spring feeling of joy and of renewal. All the best moments of his life rose to his memory at once. Austerlitz, with that lofty sky, and the dead, reproachful face of his wife, and Pierre on the ferry, and the girl, thrilled by the beauty of the night, and that night and moon—it all rushed at once into his mind.

“No, life is not over at thirty-one,” Prince Andrey decided all at once, finally and absolutely. “It's not enough for me to know all there is in me, every one must know it too; Pierre and that girl, who wanted to fly away into the sky; every one must know me so that my life may not be spent only on myself; they must not live so apart from my life, it must be reflected in all of them and they must all share my life with me!”

On getting home after his journey, Prince Andrey made up his mind to go to Petersburg in the autumn, and began inventing all sorts of reasons for this decision. A whole chain of sensible, logical reasons, making it essential for him to visit Petersburg, and even to re-enter the service, was at every moment ready at his disposal. He could not indeed comprehend now how he could ever have doubted of the necessity of taking an active share in life, just as a month before he could not have understood how the idea of leaving the country could ever occur to him. It seemed clear to him that all his experience of life would be wasted and come to naught, if he did not apply it in practice and take an active part in life again. He could not understand indeed how on a basis of such poor arguments it could have seemed so incontestable to him that he would be lowering himself, if after the lessons he had received from life, he were to put faith again in the possibility of being useful and in the possibility of happiness and of love. Reason now gave its whole support to the other side. After his journey to Ryazan, Prince Andrey began to weary of life in the country; his former pursuits ceased to interest him, and often sitting alone in his study, he got up, went to the looking-glass and gazed a long while at his own face. Then he turned away to the portrait of Liza, who, with her curls tied up à la grecque, looked gaily and tenderly out of the gold frame at him. She did not say those terrible words to him; she looked curiously and merrily at him. And, clasping his hands behind him, Prince Andrey would walk a long while up and down his room, frowning and smiling by turns, as he brooded over those irrational ideas, that could not be put into words, and were secret as a crime—the ideas connected with Pierre, with glory, with the girl at the window, with the oak, with woman's beauty, and love, which had changed the whole current of his life. And if any one came into his room at such moments, he would be particularly short, severely decided and disagreeably logical.

“Mon cher,” Princess Marya would say coming in at such a moment, “Nikolushka cannot go out for a walk to-day; it is very cold.”

“If it were hot,” Prince Andrey would answer his sister with peculiar dryness on such occasions, “then he would go out with only his smock on; but as it is cold, you must put on him warm clothes that have been designed for that object. That's what follows from its being cold, and not staying at home when the child needs fresh air,” he would say, with an exaggerated logicality, as it were punishing some one for that secret, illogical element working within him.

On such occasions Princess Marya thought what a chilling effect so much intellectual work had upon men.

翌日，安德烈公爵只向伯爵一人告别，不等候女士们出来，就动身回家了。

已经是六月之初，正当安德烈公爵快要回到家中时，他又驶进那座白桦树林，林中的这棵弯曲多节的老橡树呈现着很古怪的模样，令人难忘，真使他感到惊奇。在森林中，铃铛的响声比一个半月以前更低沉，那时处处是绿树浓荫，枝繁叶茂，那些散布在森林中的小枞树没有损害共有的优美环境，却为迎合树木共有的特点，都发绿了，长出毛茸茸的嫩枝。

整天都很炎热，有的地方雷雨快要来临，但是只有一小片乌云往路上的灰尘和多汁的叶子上喷洒了几滴雨水。森林的左边很昏暗，光线不充足，森林的右边潮湿，明亮，在阳光下闪耀，给风吹得微微摇动。树木都开花了，夜莺鸣啭，悠扬悦耳，时而在近处，时而在远处发出回响。

“是的，在这里，这棵橡树在这座森林里，我们是志同道合的，”安德烈公爵想了想。“可是它在哪里呢？”安德烈公爵在观看道路的左边的时候，心里又想了想，他自己并没有意识到，也没有把它认出来，不过他正在欣赏他所寻找的那棵橡树。完全变了样的老橡树荫覆如盖，暗绿色的多汁的叶子郁郁葱葱，麻木地立着，在夕阳的余晖中微微摇动。无论是弯曲多节的指头，无论是伤痕，无论是昔日的怀疑和哀愁，都看不见了。透过坚硬的百年的老树皮，在无树枝处居然钻出了一簇簇嫩绿的树叶，因此真令人没法相信，这棵老头般的橡树竟能长出嫩绿的树叶来。“这正是那棵老橡树。”安德烈公爵想了想，他的心灵中忽然产生一种快乐的感觉，万象更新的感觉。他一下子回忆起他一生中的那些最美好的瞬间。奥斯特利茨战场和那高悬的天空、已故妻子含有责备神情的面孔，渡船上的皮埃尔，因为夜色美丽而深有感触的少女，还有这个夜晚和月色——她突然把这一切回想起来。

“不，人在三十一岁时生命没有终结，”安德烈公爵忽然坚决地斩钉截铁地断送说，“我只是知道我心中的一切还是不够的，而且要大家——无论是皮埃尔；还是这个想飞上天空的少女——都知道这一点，要让大家知道我，我不是为了我一个人而生活，不让他们的生活和我的生活毫无关联，要让我的生活对大家产生影响，他们大家和我一同生活！”

安德烈公爵在旅行归来以后，拿定主意，要在秋天到彼得堡去，并且想到作出这个决定的各种原因。他时时刻刻都能琢磨出一系列合情合理的论据——他为什么要到彼得堡去，甚至在那里服役。他甚至在目前还不明白，他对他要积极参与生活一事怎么会犹豫不决，恰如一个月以前他不明白怎么会想到离开村庄一样。他明显地觉得，如果他不把他在生活上积累的全部经验应用于事业上，不再积极参与生活，那末他的全部经验必定是毫无稗益的，毫无意义的。他甚至不明白，从前根据这样一些乏于情理的论据怎么能够明显地看出：如果在受到生活教训之后，又深信自己能够给事业带来利益，深信自己能够获得幸福和爱情，这样，就会有失身份了。而今理智提示了截然不同的内容。在这次旅行之后，安德烈公爵开始觉得在乡下寂寞，他对以前的业务不感兴趣，常常一个人坐在书斋里，常常站起来，走到镜台前，久久地注视自己的面孔。然后他转过头来，注视着亡妻丽莎的画像，他留着一头蓬松的a　la　grecque①卷发，温存地快活地从金色的框子里望着他。她已经不向丈夫说些从前那样可怕的话，她带着好奇的神态朴直地快活地望着他。安德烈公爵背着手在房里走来走去，走了很久，时而皱起眉头，时而微露笑容，他反复琢磨那些不合时宜的、非言语所能形容的、像罪行一样隐秘的思想，这些思想牵连到皮埃尔、荣誉、呆在窗口的女郎、橡树、妇人的美貌和爱情，这些思想改变了他的整个生活。在这种时刻，有人进门来走到他跟前，他往往分外冷漠，严肃而果断尤其是讲些令人听来不悦意的大道理。

①法语：希腊式。

“Mon　cher，”①公爵小姐玛丽亚常在这时候走进来，她说：“尼古卢什卡今儿不能去散步：天气很冷。”

①法语：亲爱的朋友。

“如果天气暖和，”这时安德烈特别冷漠地回答妹妹说，“他只要穿件衬衫就行了，因为天气很冷，就应当给他穿件暖和的衣裳，就是为了这个缘故才有人想到给他做件暖和的衣裳。因为天气很冷，所以才要这样做，而不是说，当孩子需要新鲜空气的时候硬要他留在家里。”他说得特别合乎情理，就仿佛为了他内心产生这种隐秘的不合乎情理的智力活动而处罚某人似的。在这种情况下公爵小姐玛丽亚往往想到智力活动会使男人们面容憔悴，使他们变得冷漠无情。