IN THE ENTR'ACTE there was a current of chill air in Ellen's box, the door was opened, and Anatole walked in, bending and trying not to brush against any one.

“Allow me to introduce my brother,” said Ellen, her eyes shifting uneasily from Natasha to Anatole. Natasha turned her pretty little head towards the handsome adjutant and smiled over her bare shoulder. Anatole, who was as handsome on a closer view as he was from a distance, sat down beside her, and said he had long wished to have this pleasure, ever since the Narishkins' ball, at which he had had the pleasure he had not forgotten of seeing her. Kuragin was far more sensible and straightforward with women than he was in men's society. He talked boldly and simply, and Natasha was strangely and agreeably impressed by finding nothing so formidable in this man, of whom such stories were told, but, on the contrary, seeing on his face the most innocent, merry, and simple-hearted smile.

Kuragin asked her what she thought of the performance, and told her that at the last performance Semyonovna had fallen down while she was acting.

“And do you know, countess,” said he, suddenly addressing her as though she were an old friend, “we are getting up a costume ball; you ought to take part in it; it will be great fun. They are all assembling at the Karagins'. Please, do come, really now, eh?” he said. As he said this he never took his smiling eyes off the face, the neck, the bare arms of Natasha. Natasha knew beyond all doubt that he was fascinated by her. That pleased her, yet she felt for some reason constrained and oppressed in his presence. When she was not looking at him she felt that he was looking at her shoulders, and she could not help trying to catch his eyes that he might rather look in her face. But as she looked into his eyes she felt with horror that, between him and her, there was not that barrier of modest reserve she had always been conscious of between herself and other men. In five minutes she felt—she did not know how—that she had come fearfully close to this man. When she turned away, she felt afraid he might take her from behind by her bare arm and kiss her on the neck. They talked of the simplest things, and she felt that they were close as she had never been with any man. Natasha looked round at Ellen and at her father, as though to ask them what was the meaning of it. But Ellen was absorbed in talking to a general and did not respond to her glance, and her father's eyes said nothing to her but what they always said: “Enjoying yourself? Well, I'm glad then.”

In one of the moments of awkward silence, during which Anatole gazed calmly and persistently at her, Natasha, to break the silence, asked him how he liked Moscow. Natasha asked this question and blushed as she did so; she was feeling all the while that there she was doing something improper in talking to him. Anatole smiled as though to encourage her.

“At first I didn't like it much, for what is it makes one like a town? It's the pretty women, isn't it? Well, but now I like it awfully,” he said, with a meaning look at her. “You'll come to the fancy dress ball, countess? Do come,” he said, and putting his hand out to her bouquet he said, dropping his voice, “You will be the prettiest. Come, dear countess, and as a pledge give me this flower.”

Natasha did not understand what he was saying, nor did he himself; but she felt that in his uncomprehended words there was some improper intention. She did not know what to say, and turned away as though she had not heard what he said. But as soon as she turned away she felt that he was here behind her, so close to her.

“What is he feeling now? Is he confused? Is he angry? Must I set it right?” she wondered. She could not refrain from looking round. She glanced straight into his eyes, and his nearness and confidence, and the simple-hearted warmth of his smile vanquished her. She smiled exactly as he did, looking straight into his eyes. And again, she felt with horror that no barrier lay between him and her.

The curtain rose again. Anatole walked out of the box, serene and good-humoured. Natasha went back to her father's box, completely under the spell of the world in which she found herself. All that passed before her eyes now seemed to her perfectly natural. But on the other hand all previous thoughts of her betrothed, of Princess Marya, of her life in the country, did not once recur to her mind, as though all that belonged to the remote past.

In the fourth act there was some sort of devil who sang, waving his arms till the boards were moved away under him and he sank into the opening. That was all Natasha saw of the fourth act; she felt harassed and excited; and the cause of that excitement was Kuragin, whom she could not help watching. As they came out of the theatre Anatole came up to them, called their carriage and helped them into it. As he assisted Natasha he pressed her arm above the elbow. Natasha, flushed and excited, looked round at him. He gazed at her with flashing eyes and a tender smile.

It was only on getting home that Natasha could form any clear idea of what had happened. All at once, remembering Prince Andrey, she was horrified, and at tea, to which they all sat down after the theatre, she groaned aloud, and flushing crimson ran out of the room. “My God! I am ruined!” she said to herself. “How could I sink to such a depth?” she thought. For a long while she sat, with her flushed face hidden in her hands, trying to get a clear idea of what had happened and unable to grasp either what had happened or what she was feeling. Everything seemed to her dark, obscure, and dreadful. In that immense, lighted hall, where Duport had jumped about to music with his bare legs on the damp boards in his short jacket with tinsel, and young girls and old men, and that Ellen, proudly and serenely smiling in her nakedness, had enthusiastically roared “bravo”; there, in the wake of that Ellen, all had been clear and simple. But now, alone by herself, it was past comprehending. “What does it mean? What is that terror I felt with him? What is the meaning of those gnawings of conscience I am feeling now?” she thought.

To no one but to her mother at night in bed Natasha could have talked of what she was feeling. Sonya she knew, with her strict and single-minded view of things, would either have failed to understand at all, or would have been horrified at the avowal. Natasha all by herself had to try and solve the riddle that tormented her

“Am I spoilt for Prince Andrey's love or not?” she asked herself, and with reassuring mockery she answered herself: “What a fool I am to ask such a thing! What has happened to me? Nothing. I have done nothing; I did nothing to lead him on. No one will ever know, and I shall never see him again,” she told herself. “So it's plain that nothing has happened, that there's nothing to regret, that Prince Andrey can love me still. But why still? O my God, my God, why isn't he here!” Natasha felt comforted for a moment, but again some instinct told her that though that was all true, and though nothing had happened, yet some instinct told her that all the old purity of her love for Prince Andrey was lost. And again, in her imagination, she went over all her conversation with Kuragin, and saw again the face, the gestures, and the tender smile of that handsome, daring man at the moment when he had pressed her arm.

幕间休息时，海伦的包厢里有一阵袭人的寒气，门打开了，阿纳托利弯下身子，尽力不挂着别人，走了进来。

“请允许我把哥哥介绍给您认识一下，”海伦说道，把视线从娜塔莎一下子转向阿纳托利。娜塔莎将她那好看的头越过裸露的肩膀转向美男子，微微一笑。阿纳托利在近处就像在远处一样十分俊秀，他挨着她坐下并且说，他很早以前就想获得和她认识的荣幸，在纳雷什金家举办的舞会上他有幸看见她，真使他永生难忘。库拉金和女人们在一起时比在交往密切地男人中间显得聪明得多，纯朴得多。他说话时大胆而且大方，娜塔莎感到惊奇而又愉快的是，在这个众人纷纷议论的人身上，不仅没有任何可怕的地方，相反地，他却常常流露着最天真的、快活的、温和的微笑。

库拉金向她询及她对戏剧表演的印象并且讲到谢苗诺娃上次演戏时倒在地上了。

“伯爵小姐，可要知道，”他说话时突然把脸转向她，就像对待一个老朋友那样，“我们要举办化装赛会，您应该参加，一定很开心。大家都在阿尔哈罗夫家里聚会。请您乘车来吧，说真的，好吗？”他说道。

他说这番话的时候，面露微笑，目不转睛地望着娜塔莎的脸蛋、颈项和那裸露的臂膀。娜塔莎无疑知道他在赞美她。这使她非常愉快，但是不知为什么他在场时她憋得慌，心里很难受。当她不望他时，她觉得他在细瞧她的肩膀，她不由地抓住他的目光，心里叫他莫如注视她的眼睛。但是当她望着他的眼睛时，她胆寒地感到，在他和她之间完全没有她和其他男人之间向来感觉到的那种羞怯的障碍。连她自己也不知道是怎么回事，在五分钟后她觉得自己和这个人未免太接近了。当她扭过脸去的时候，她害怕他从后面抓住她那裸露的臂膀，吻她的脖颈。他们说的是最平凡的事情，她觉得他们太接近了，她和其他男人从来没有这种情形。娜塔莎回头望望海伦和父亲，好像问他们，这是怎么回事，但海伦正和某位将军谈话，对她的目光未予回答，父亲的目光无非是向她表述他经常说的那句话：“你愉快，我也就高兴。”

在那难堪的沉默的一瞬间，阿纳托利用那突出的眼睛宁静地、不转瞬地望着她。为了打破沉默，娜塔莎问他可真喜欢莫斯科。娜塔莎问了这句话以后，涨红了脸。她经常仿佛觉得，她跟他谈话是在做什么有失体面的事情。阿纳托利微微一笑，仿佛是鼓励她似的。

“开初我不太喜欢莫斯科，那是因为，我不知道什么会使这个城市变得令人喜爱呢？ce　sont　les　jolies　femmes①，不是么？可是现在我很喜欢它了，”他说，意味深长地望着她。“伯爵小姐，您会出席化装赛会吧？您去吧，”他说，伸出一只手去摘她戴的一束花，又降低嗓音说：“Vous　serez　la　plus　jolie．Venez，chere　comtesse，et　comme　gage　donnez　moi　cette　fleur．”②

①法语：那就是容貌美丽的女人。

②法语：您将是最标致的。可爱的伯爵小姐，去吧，您把这朵花送给我作为保证。

娜塔莎也像他那样没有听懂他说的话，但是她觉得，在他那不可理解的话语中包含有不太体面的意图。她不知道要说什么，于是转过身去，好像没有听见他说的话似的。但是她刚刚转过身去，她心里就想到他就在后面，离她很近的地方。

“他现在怎么了？他感到腼腆？在生我的气了吗？要不要挽救一下？”她自己询问自己。她克制不住，回头望望。她朝他的眼睛直视一下，他近在身边，他的信心，他那温和而亲切的微笑把她战胜了。她直勾勾地瞅着他的眼睛，就像他那样微微一笑。她于是又胆寒地感到，他和她之间没有任何隔阂了。

又开幕了。阿纳托利从包厢里走出来，他心平气和而且愉快。娜塔莎回到父亲的包厢，她已经完全屈从于她所处的环境了。她仿佛觉得她眼前发生的一切都十分自然，但是她的脑海中一次也没有出现她从前想到的事情——关于未婚夫、关于公爵小姐玛丽亚、关于农村的生活，仿佛这一切都是久远、久远以前的事情。

第四幕里出现了一个扮鬼脸的人，他一面唱歌，一面挥手，直到有人抽掉他脚下的木板，使他陷落下去为止。在第四幕中娜塔莎只看到这一个场面。有一件事使他激动，使她受折磨，而库拉金正是造成她心绪不宁静的人，她一直情不自禁地注视着他。他们从戏院出来的时候，阿纳托利走到他们跟前，并把他们的四轮轿式马车叫来，搀着他们上马车。他在搀扶娜塔莎时，握住她的肘弯以上的手臂。娜塔莎觉得激动不安，涨红了脸，她回头望了望他。他两眼闪闪发光，凝视着她，流露出温和的微笑。

娜塔莎在回家后才清醒地考虑到她偶然遇到的一切，她突然想起安德烈公爵，觉得害怕，在大家从戏院回来，坐着喝茶的时候，她在大家面前惊叫一声，涨红了脸，从房里跑出去了。“我的天！我毁灭了！”她自言自语。“我怎能容许别人这样做呢？”她想道。她坐在那儿，坐了很久，她用蒙住自己的通红的脸，极力地使她自己认识清楚发生了什么事，然而，她既不能明白发生了什么事，也不能明白她意识到什么。她仿佛觉得一切都昏暗、模糊而且骇人。在那里，在灯光明亮的戏院的大厅里，迪波尔身穿一件金光闪闪的上衣，裸露着两腿，在湿漉漉的木板上用音乐伴奏跳舞，无论是少女们、老人们，还是裸露胸肩的脸上流露着骄傲而安详的微笑的海伦，都欣喜若狂地喝彩，——在那里，在海伦的身影出现的地方，这一切都很简单而且明了；但是目前她独自一人却认为一切都变得不可思议了。“这是怎么回事？他使我感到恐惧，是怎么回事？现在我受到良心谴责，是怎么回事？”她想道。

深夜，娜塔莎只能在自己床上把她心里想到的一切讲给老伯爵夫人一个人听。她知道索尼娅有她严整的看法，她或则什么都不明白，或则很害怕她倾诉衷肠。娜塔莎独自一人竭尽全力地解说那个使她感到痛苦的问题。

“我为安德烈公爵的爱情而毁灭了？还是没有毁灭呢？”她问自己，又带着聊以自慰的嘲笑回答自己的话：“我多么愚蠢，我为什么要问这种事呢？我究竟出一什么事？没有发生什么事。什么错事我也没有做，也没有招致这种是非。谁也不会知道。我永远不会再看见他了，”她自言自语。“显然，没有发生什么事情，没有什么可以后悔的，安德烈公爵会爱我这样的人。但是他会爱我这样的人吗？唉，我的天，我的天！干嘛他不在这儿！”娜塔莎安静了片刻，但是后来又有一种本能仿佛对她说，尽管这一切都是千真万确的，尽管没有发生任何事，本能在对她说，从前她对安德烈公爵的爱情的纯洁性完全丧失了。她又在她的想象中重复她和库拉金的全部谈话，她脑海中浮现着这个俊美而大胆的人在握住她的手臂时的面孔、手势和温和的微笑。