ANATOLE went out of the room, and a few minutes later he came back wearing a fur pelisse, girt with a silver belt, and a sable cap, jauntily stuck on one side, and very becoming to his handsome face. Looking at himself in the looking-glass, and then standing before Dolohov in the same attitude he had taken before the looking-glass, he took a glass of wine.
“Well, Fedya, farewell; thanks for everything, and farewell,” said Anatole. “Come, comrades, friends …”—he grew pensive—“of my youth … farewell,” he turned to Makarin and the others.
Although they were all going with him, Anatole evidently wanted to make a touching and solemn ceremony of this address to his comrades. He spoke in a loud, deliberate voice, squaring his chest and swinging one leg.
“All take glasses; you too, Balaga. Well, lads, friends of my youth, we have had jolly sprees together. Eh? Now, when shall we meet again? I'm going abroad! We've had a good time, and farewell, lads. Here's to our health! Hurrah! …” he said, tossing off his glass, and flinging it on the floor.
“To your health!” said Balaga. He, too, emptied his glass and wiped his lips with his handkerchief.
Makarin embraced Anatole with tears in his eyes.
“Ah, prince, how it grieves my heart to part from you,” he said.
“Start! start!” shouted Anatole.
Balaga was going out of the room.
“No; stay,” said Anatole. “Shut the door; we must sit down. Like this.” They shut the door and all sat down.
“Well, now, quick, march, lads!” said Anatole, getting up.
The valet, Joseph, gave Anatole his knapsack and sword, and they all went out into the vestibule.
“But where's a fur cloak?” said Dolohov. “Hey, Ignatka! Run in to Matryona Matveyevna, and ask her for the sable cloak. I've heard what elopements are like,” said Dolohov, winking. “She'll come skipping out more dead than alive just in the things she had on indoors; the slightest delay and then there are tears, and dear papa and dear mamma, and she's frozen in a minute and for going back again—you wrap her up in a cloak at once and carry her to the sledge.”
The valet brought a woman's fox-lined pelisse.
“Fool, I told you the sable. Hey, Matryoshka, the sable,” he shouted, so that his voice rang out through the rooms.
A handsome, thin, and pale gypsy woman, with shining black eyes and curly black hair, with a bluish shade in it, ran out, wearing a red shawl and holding a sable cloak on her arm.
“Here, I don't grudge it; take it,” she said, in visible fear of her lord and regretful at losing the cloak.
Dolohov, making her no answer, took the cloak, flung it about Matryosha, and wrapped her up in it.
“That's the way,” said Dolohov. “And then this is the way,” he said and he turned the collar up round her head, leaving it only a little open before the face. “And then this is the way, do you see?” and he moved Anatole's head forward to meet the open space left by the collar, from which Matryosha's flashing smile peeped out.
“Well, good-bye, Matryosha,” said Anatole, kissing her. “Ah, all my fun here is over! Give my love to Styoshka. There, good-bye! Good-bye, Matryosha; wish me happiness.”
“God grant you great happiness, prince,” said Matryosha, with her gypsy accent.
At the steps stood two three-horse sledges; two stalwart young drivers were holding them. Balaga took his seat in the foremost, and holding his elbows high, began deliberately arranging the reins in his hands. Anatole and Dolohov got in with him. Makarin, Hvostikov, and the valet got into the other sledge.
“Ready, eh?” queried Balaga. “Off!” he shouted, twisting the reins round his hands, and the sledge flew at break-neck pace along the Nikitsky Boulevard.
“Tprroo! Hi! … Tproo!!” Balaga and the young driver on the box were continually shouting.
In Arbatsky Square the sledge came into collision with a carriage; there was a crash and shouts, and the sledge flew off along Arbaty. Turning twice along Podnovinsky, Balaga began to pull up, and turning back, stopped the horses at the Old Equerrys' crossing.
A smart young driver jumped down to hold the horses by the bridle; Anatole and Dolohov walked along the pavement. On reaching the gates, Dolohov whistled. The whistle was answered, and a maid-servant ran out.
“Come into the courtyard, or you'll be seen; she is coming in a minute,” she said.
Dolohov stayed at the gate. Anatole followed the maid into the courtyard, turned a corner, and ran up the steps.
He was met by Gavrilo, Marya Dmitryevna's huge groom.
“Walk this way to the mistress,” said the groom in his bass, blocking up the doorway.
“What mistress? And who are you?” Anatole asked in a breathless whisper.
“Walk in; my orders are to show you in.”
“Kuragin! back!” shouted Dolohov. “Treachery, back!”
Dolohov, at the little back gate where he had stopped, was struggling with the porter, who was trying to shut the gate after Anatole as he ran in. With a desperate effort Dolohov shoved away the porter, and clutching at Anatole, pulled him through the gate, and ran back with him to the sledge.
阿纳托利从房里走出来，过了几分钟又走回来，他身穿一件束着银腰带的短皮袄，雄赳赳地歪歪地戴着一顶与他那清秀的面孔很相称的貂皮帽子。他照了一下镜子，装出在镜台前面他所摆出的那个姿势，站到多洛霍夫前面去，手中拿着一杯葡萄酒。
“喂，费佳，再见，承蒙诸多照拂，非常感激，再见吧，”阿纳托利说。“喂，伙伴们，朋友们……”他沉吟起来……“我的青春的……别了。”他把脸转向马卡林以及其他人，说道。
尽管他们大家是要跟他一同去的，但是阿纳托利显然还想对他的伙伴们说点什么激昂而且动人的话。他用那响亮的嗓音慢吞吞地说，挺起胸膛，摇晃着一只脚。
“大家端起酒杯来，巴拉加，你也端起酒杯来。喂，伙伴们，我的青年时代的朋友们，我们都饮酒作乐，过了逍遥快活的日子，饮酒作乐，是不是？现在我要到国外去，什么时候我们还会见面呢？我们都过了逍遥快活的日子，别了，伙伴们。祝你们健康！乌拉！……”他说道，喝完一杯酒，砰的一声把酒杯扔在地上。
“祝你健康。”巴拉加说，他也喝完一杯酒，用手巾揩揩嘴。马卡林含着眼泪拥抱阿纳托利。
“哎，公爵，和你分别，我真觉得难受。”他说。
“要走了，要走了”阿纳托利大声喊道。
巴拉加刚刚从房里出来。
“不要走开，站住，”阿纳托利说。“把门关上，大家都得坐下来，就这么着。”
关上了房门，于是大家坐下来。
“喂，伙伴们，现在要走了！”阿纳托利站起来说。
仆人约瑟夫把手提包和马刀递给阿纳托利，大家走进接待室。
“皮袄在什么地方？”多洛霍夫说，“哎，伊格纳特卡①！你到玛特廖娜·马特维耶夫娜那里去，要那件皮袄，貂皮女外衣。我听人家说，要怎样悄悄地带走姑娘，”多洛霍夫丢了个眼色，说道。“要知道她穿着一件在家里穿的衣裳半死不活地窜出来；你只要稍微迟延，她就会哭哭啼啼，又是喊爸爸，又是喊妈妈，马上就会冻僵的，要往回走，你得马上用皮袄把她裹起来，抱到雪橇上。”
那个仆人拿来一件狐皮女外衣。
“傻瓜，我对你说了，要一件貂皮女外衣。哎，玛特廖什卡②，貂皮女外衣！”他高喊一声，使得远远的几个房间都听见他的喊声。
①伊格纳特卡是伊格纳季的爱称。
②玛特廖什卡是玛特廖娜的爱称。
那个俊美、消瘦、脸色苍白的茨冈女郎，露出一双闪闪发光的乌眼睛，卷曲的黑发泛出瓦蓝色的光泽，她披着红色肩巾，手上拿着貂皮女外衣，走出来了。
“好吧，你拿去，我不是舍不得这件外衣。”她说道，显然她在老爷面前胆怯，心里舍不得这件女外衣。
多洛霍夫没有回答她的话，拿起这件皮袄，随便地披在玛特廖莎①身上，把她裹起来。
“就这样，”多洛霍夫说，“以后就这样，”他说道，之后他竖起她的衣领把头围住，只是在她的脸前面敞开一点，“以后就这样，看见吗？”他叫阿纳托利把头凑近领口，从领口可以看见玛特廖莎妩媚的笑容。
“喂，玛特廖莎，再见，”阿纳托利亲吻她时这样说，“唉，我在这里饮酒作乐的日子结束了！请代我向斯乔普卡②致意。
喂，再见！玛特廖莎，再见，请你祝我幸福。”
①玛特廖莎是玛特廖娜的爱称。
②斯乔普卡是斯捷潘的爱称。
“好，公爵，上帝保佑您，赏赐您无上幸福。”玛特廖莎带着茨冈人的口音说。
两辆三套马车停放在台阶旁，两个能干的马车夫勒住马，巴拉加在前面那辆三套马车上坐下，高高地抬起胳膊，不慌不忙地用两手将缰绳左右分开握住。阿纳托利和多洛霍夫靠近他，坐下来。马卡林、赫沃斯季科夫和仆人坐到另一辆三套马车上。
“准备好了吗？”巴拉加问道。
“出发吧！”他喊了一声，就把缰绳缠在手上，于是三套马车沿着尼基丁林荫大道往下迅速地行驶。
“吁！走吧，哎！……吁，”只听见巴拉加和那个坐在赶车人座位上的棒小伙子的吆喝。在阿尔巴特广场上，三套马车挂住了一辆轿式马车，开始发出噼啪的破裂声，这时分传来了一声呼喊，可是三套马车沿着阿尔巴特广场飞驰而去。
巴拉加沿着波德诺文斯基大街走了两段路，开始勒住马，往回走，在旧马厩街十字路口，马停步了。
棒小伙子跳下来抓住马的辔头，阿纳托利和多洛霍夫开始沿着人行道走去。多洛霍夫快要走到大门口时，打了个唿哨。他的口哨得到了回应，紧接着一名女仆跑出来了。
“你们走进院子里来吧，不然的话，会被人望见，她立刻就会出来。”她说。
多洛霍夫留在大门口，阿纳托利跟在侍女身后走进了庭院，拐过了墙角，跑上台阶。
个子高大的、跟随玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜的仆人加夫里洛迎接阿纳托利。
“请您到夫人那里去吧。”仆人拦住进门的路时，低声地说。
“见哪个夫人？你是谁？”阿纳托利上气不接下气，低声地问道。
“请，吩咐我领您进去。”
“库拉金，往后走，”多洛霍夫喊道。“真背叛了！往后走！”
站在小门边的多洛霍夫和管院子的人拼搏，因为他想在阿纳托利走进去以后关闭小门。多洛霍夫使尽全身的力气，推开管院子的人，抓住向外跑的阿纳托利的手，把他拽到小门外，和他一道向后转，朝三套马车快步走去。
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