AFTER HIS INTERVIEW with Pierre in Moscow, Prince Andrey went away to Petersburg, telling his family that he had business there. In reality his object was to meet Anatole Kuragin there. He thought it necessary to meet him, but on inquiring for him when he reached Petersburg, he found he was no longer there. Pierre had let his brother-in-law know that Prince Andrey was on his track. Anatole Kuragin had promptly obtained a commission from the minister of war, and had gone to join the army in Moldavia. While in Petersburg Prince Andrey met Kutuzov, his old general, who was always friendly to him, and Kutuzov proposed that he should accompany him to Moldavia, where the old general was being sent to take command of the army. Prince Andrey received an appointment on the staff of the commander, and went to Turkey.

Prince Andrey did not think it proper to write to Kuragin to challenge him to a duel. He thought that a challenge coming from him, without any new pretext for a duel, would be compromising for the young Countess Rostov, and therefore he was seeking to encounter Kuragin in person in order to pick a quarrel with him that would serve as a pretext for a duel. But in the Turkish army too Prince Andrey failed to come across Kuragin. The latter had returned to Russia shortly after Prince Andrey reached the Turkish army. In a new country, amid new surroundings, Prince Andrey found life easier to bear. After his betrothed's betrayal of him, which he felt the more keenly, the more studiously he strove to conceal its effect on him from others, he found it hard to bear the conditions of life in which he had been happy, and felt still more irksome the freedom and independence he had once prized so highly. He could not now think the thoughts that had come to him for the first time on the field of Austerlitz, that he had loved to develop with Pierre, and that had enriched his solitude at Bogutcharovo, and later on in Switzerland and in Rome. Now he dreaded indeed those ideas that had then opened to him boundless vistas of light. Now he was occupied only with the most practical interests lying close at hand, and in no way associated with those old ideals. He clutched at these new interests the more eagerly the more the old ideals were hidden from him. It was as though the infinite, fathomless arch of heaven that had once stood over him had been suddenly transformed into a low, limited vault weighing upon him, with everything in it clear, but nothing eternal and mysterious.

Of the pursuits that presented themselves, military service was the simplest and the most familiar to him. He performed the duties of a general on duty on Kutuzov's staff with zeal and perseverance, surprising Kutuzov by his eagerness for work and his conscientiousness. When he missed Kuragin in Turkey, Prince Andrey did not feel it necessary to gallop back to Russia in search of him. Yet in spite of all his contempt for Kuragin, in spite of all the arguments by which he sought to persuade himself that Kuragin was not worth his stooping to quarrel with him, he knew that whatever length of time might elapse, when he did meet him, he would be unable to help challenging him as a starving man cannot help rushing upon food. And the consciousness that the insult was not yet avenged, that his wrath had not been expended, but was still stored up in his heart, poisoned the artificial composure, which Prince Andrey succeeded in obtaining in Turkey in the guise of studiously busy and somewhat ambitious and vain energy.

In 1812, when the news of the war with Napoleon reached Bucharest (where Kutuzov had been fourteen months, spending days and nights together with his Wallachian mistress), Prince Andrey asked to be transferred to the western army. Kutuzov, who was by now sick of Bolkonsky's energy, and felt it a standing reproach to his sloth, was very ready to let him go, and gave him a commission for Barclay de Tolly.

Before joining the army of the west, which was in May encamped at Drissa, Prince Andrey went to Bleak Hills, which was directly in his road, only three versts from the Smolensk high-road. The last three years of Prince Andrey's life had been so full of vicissitudes, he had passed through such changes of thought and feeling, and seen such varied life (he had travelled both in the east and the west), that it struck him as strange and amazing to find at Bleak Hills life going on in precisely the same routine as ever. He rode up the avenue to the stone gates of the house, feeling as though it were the enchanted, sleeping castle. The same sedateness, the same cleanliness, the same silence reigned in the house; there was the same furniture, the same walls, the same sounds, the same smell, and the same timid faces, only a little older. Princess Marya was just the same timid, plain girl, no longer in her first youth, wasting the best years of her life in continual dread and suffering, and getting no benefit or happiness out of her existence. Mademoiselle Bourienne was just the same self-satisfied, coquettish girl, enjoying every moment of her life, and filled with the most joyous hopes for the future. She seemed only to have gained boldness, so Prince Andrey thought. The tutor he had brought back from Switzerland, Dessalle, was wearing a coat of Russian cut, and talked broken Russian to the servants, but he was just the same narrow-minded, cultivated, conscientious, pedantic preceptor. The only physical change apparent in the old prince was the loss of a tooth, that left a gap at the side of his mouth. In character he was the same as ever, only showing even more irritability and scepticism as to everything that happened in the world. Nikolushka was the only one who had changed: he had grown taller, and rosy, and had curly dark hair. When he was merry and laughing, he unconsciously lifted the upper lip of his pretty little mouth, just as his dead mother, the little princess, used to do. He was the only one not in bondage to the law of sameness that reigned in that spellbound sleeping castle. But though externally all was exactly as of old, the inner relations of all the persons concerned had changed since Prince Andrey had seen them last. The household was split up into two hostile camps, which held aloof from one another, and only now came together in his presence, abandoning their ordinary habits on his account. To one camp belonged the old prince, Mademoiselle Bourienne, and the architect; to the other—Princess Marya, Dessalle, Nikolushka, and all the nurses.

During his stay at Bleak Hills all the family dined together, but every one was ill at ease, and Prince Andrey felt that he was being treated as a guest for whom an exception was being made, and that his presence made all of them feel awkward. The first day Prince Andrey could not help being aware of this at dinner, and sat in silence. The old prince noticed his unnatural dumbness, and he, too, preserved a sullen silence, and immediately after dinner withdrew to his own room. Later in the evening when Prince Andrey went in to him, and began telling him about the campaign of the young Prince Kamensky to try and rouse him, the old prince, to his surprise, began talking about Princess Marya, grumbling at her superstitiousness, and her dislike of Mademoiselle Bourienne, who was, he said, the only person really attached to him.

The old prince declared that it was all Princess Marya's doing if he were ill; that she plagued and worried him on purpose, and that she was spoiling little Prince Nikolay by the way she petted him, and the silly tales she told him. The old prince knew very well that he tormented his daughter, and that her life was a very hard one. But he knew, too, that he could not help tormenting her, and considered that she deserved it. “Why is it Andrey, who sees it, says nothing about his sister?” the old prince wondered. “Why, does he suppose I'm a scoundrel or an old fool to be alienated from my daughter and friendly with this Frenchwoman for no good reason? He doesn't understand, and so I must explain it to him; he must hear what I have to say about it,” thought the old prince, and so he began to explain the reason why he could not put up with his daughter's unreasonable character.

“If you ask me,” said Prince Andrey, not looking at his father (it was the first time in his life that he had blamed his father), “I did not wish to speak of it—but, if you ask me, I'll tell you my opinion frankly in regard to the whole matter. If there is any misunderstanding and estrangement between you and Masha, I can't blame her for it—I know how she loves and respects you. If you ask me,” Prince Andrey continued, losing his temper, as he very readily did in these latter days, “I can only say one thing; if there are misunderstandings, the cause of them is that worthless woman, who is not fit to be my sister's companion.”

The old man stared for a moment at his son, and a forced smile revealed the loss of a tooth, to which Prince Andrey could not get accustomed, in his face.

“What companion, my dear fellow? Eh! So you've talked it over already! Eh?”

“Father, I had no wish to judge you,” said Prince Andrey, in a hard and spiteful tone, “but you have provoked me, and I have said, and shall always say, that Marie is not to blame, but the people to blame—the person to blame—is that Frenchwoman …”

“Ah, he has passed judgment! … he has passed judgment!” said the old man, in a low voice, and Prince Andrey fancied, with embarrassment. But immediately after he leapt up and screamed, “Go away, go away! Let me never set eyes on you again! …”

Prince Andrey would have set off at once, but Princess Marya begged him to stay one day more. During that day Prince Andrey did not see his father, who never left his room, and admitted no one to see him but Mademoiselle Bourienne and Tihon, from which he inquired several times whether his son had gone. The following day before starting, Prince Andrey went to the part of the house where his son was to be found. The sturdy little boy, with curls like his mother's, sat on his knee. Prince Andrey began telling him the story of Bluebeard, but he sank into dreamy meditation before he had finished the story. He was not thinking of the pretty boy, his child, even while he held him on his knee; he was thinking of himself. He sought and was horrified not to find in himself either remorse for having provoked his father's anger, or regret at leaving home (for the first time in his life) on bad terms with him. What meant still more to him was that he could not detect in himself a trace of the tender affection he had once felt for his boy, and had hoped to revive in his heart, when he petted the child and put him on his knee.

“Come, tell me the rest,” said the boy. Prince Andrey took him off his knee without answering, and went out of the room.

As soon as Prince Andrey gave up his daily pursuits, especially to return to the old surroundings in which he had been when he was happy, weariness of life seized upon him as intensely as ever, and he made haste to escape from these memories, and to find some work to do as quickly as possible.

“Are you really going, Andrey?” his sister said to him.

“Thank God that I can go,” said Prince Andrey. “I am very sorry you can't too.”

“What makes you say that?” said Princess Marya. “How can you say that when you are going to this awful war, and he is so old? Mademoiselle Bourienne told me he keeps asking about you.…” As soon as she spoke of that, her lips quivered, and tears began to fall. Prince Andrey turned away and began walking up and down the room.

“Ah, my God! my God!” he said. “And to think what and who—what scum can be the cause of misery to people!” he said with a malignance that terrified Princess Marya.

She felt that when he uttered the word “scum,” he was thinking not only of Mademoiselle Bourienne, who was the cause of her misery, but also of the man who had ruined his own happiness. “Andrey, one thing I beg, I beseech of you,” she said, touching his elbow and looking at him with eyes that shone through her tears. “I understand you.” (Princess Marya dropped her eyes.) “Don't imagine that sorrow is the work of men. Men are His instruments.” She glanced upwards a little above Prince Andrey's head with the confident, accustomed glance with which one looks towards a familiar portrait. “Sorrow is sent by Him, and not by men. Men are the instrument of His will, they are not to blame. If it seems to you that some one has wronged you—forget it, and forgive. We have no right to punish. And you will know the happiness of forgiveness.”

“If I were a woman, I would, Marie. That's woman's virtue. But a man must not, and cannot, forgive and forget,” he said, and though till that minute he had not been thinking of Kuragin, all his unsatisfied revenge rose up again in his heart. “If Marie is beginning to persuade me to forgive, it means that I ought long ago to have punished him,” he thought.

And making no further reply to Princess Marya, he began dreaming now of the happy moment of satisfied hate when he would meet Kuragin. He knew he was with the army.

Princess Marya besought her brother to stay another day, telling him how wretched her father would be, she knew, if Andrey went away without being reconciled to him. But Prince Andrey answered that he would probably soon be back from the army, that he would certainly write to his father, and that their quarrel would only be more embittered by his staying longer now. “Remember that misfortunes come from God, and that men are never to blame,” were the last words he heard from his sister, as he said good-bye to her.

“So it must be so!” thought Prince Andrey, as he drove out of the avenue. “She, poor innocent creature, is left to be victimised by an old man, who has outlived his wits. The old man feels he is wrong, but he can't help himself. My boy is growing up and enjoying life in which he will be deceived or deceiving like every one else. I am going to the army—what for? I don't know myself; and I want to meet that man whom I despise, so as to give him a chance to kill me and sneer at me!” All the conditions of life had been the same before, but before they had all seemed to him coherent, and now they had all fallen apart. Life seemed to Prince Andrey a series of senseless phenomena following one another without any connection.

安德烈公爵和皮埃尔在莫斯科见面之后，他告诉他家里人，说他因事前往彼得堡，其实他希望在那里遇见阿纳托利·库拉金公爵，他认为有必要见他一面。抵达彼得堡后，他打听到库拉金不在那个地方。皮埃尔事前告知他的内兄，说安德烈公爵正在找他。阿纳托利随即从陆军大臣处获得委任，遂启程前往摩尔达维亚部队。此时安德烈公爵在彼得堡遇见那位对他素有好感的领导库图佐夫将军，库图佐夫将军建议安德烈公爵和他一同前往摩尔达维亚部队。老将军已被任命为当地的总司令。安德烈公爵接获在总司令部服务的委任书之后便启程前往土耳其。

安德烈公爵认为写信给库拉金要求决斗一事是不适宜的。在尚无要求决斗的新理由的情形下，安德烈公爵认为由他首先挑起决斗，会使罗斯托娃伯爵小姐的名誉受到损害，因此他就去寻找与库拉金会面的机会，以便为一次决斗寻找新借口。然而在土耳其军队中他亦未能遇见库拉金，库拉金在安德烈公爵抵达后不久就回俄国去了。安德烈公爵在一个新国度和新环境中觉得比较轻松。自从未婚妻背弃他之后（他愈益掩盖此时对他的影响，此事对他的影响就愈益强烈），以前他深感幸福的生活条件，而今却使他痛苦不堪，昔日他所极为珍惜的自由与独立，如今却使他觉得更痛心。他不仅不再去想先前那些心事——就是在奥斯特利茨战场上抬头观望天空时心里初次产生的思绪，他喜欢对皮埃尔谈论的、在博古恰罗沃和后来有瑞士与罗马使他那孤独生活获得充实的各种思绪；而今甚至害怕回顾那些向他揭示无限光明前途的思绪。他如今只是关心与过去无关的目前的实际问题，他愈益醉心于目前的问题，过去就离他愈益遥远。过去高悬在他头上的那个无限遥远的天空，好像忽然间变成低矮的有限的压着他的拱形顶盖，而那里面的一切都很明了，并无任何永恒和神秘之物可言。

在他所能想到的各项工作中，他觉得在军队里供职至为简单也至为熟悉。他在库图佐夫司令部里执勤时，他对自己工作的执着和勤恳，使库图佐夫感到吃惊。安德烈公爵在土耳其未能找到库拉金，他认为并无必要又回到俄国去跟踪他；但是他知道，无论他度过多么长久的时间，只要他碰见库拉金，就非向他挑战不可，就像一个很饥饿的人必然会向食物扑将过去一样，尽管他极端藐视他，尽管他给自己寻找出千百条理由，条条理由都使他觉得他不必降低身份同他发生冲突。然而一想到他犹未雪奇耻大辱，他犹未消心头之恨，他那人为的平安——也就是他多少由于个人野心和虚荣而在土耳其给他自己安排的劳碌的活动，就受到妨碍。

一八一二年，俄国同拿破仑开战的消息传到布加勒斯特后（库图佐夫于此地已经居住两个月，他昼夜和那个瓦拉几亚女人鬼混），安德烈公爵恳请库图佐夫将他调至西线方面军去，博尔孔斯基以其勤奋精神来责备他的懒惰，库图佐夫对此早已感到厌烦了，很愿意把他调走，他就让他前去巴克雷·德·托利处执行任务。

安德烈公爵在未抵达驻扎在德里萨军官的军队之前，顺路去童山，童山离他所走的斯摩棱斯克大路只有三俄里之遥。最近三年来，安德烈公爵的生活起了很大的变化，他所考虑的事情很多，有很多感受，也有很多见识（他已走遍西方和东方），但是当他来到童山时，这里的一切，就连最细小的地方，都依然像从前一样，生活方式也像从前一样，这不禁使他感到奇怪和出乎意料之外。当他驶进林荫道，经过童山宅第的石门时，犹如进入一座因着魔而陷入沉睡状态的古旧城堡似的。这所住宅还是那样雄伟，那样清洁，那样肃静，仍然是那样的家具，那样的墙壁，那样的音响，那样的气味以及那样几张只不过略微现老的畏葸的面孔。公爵小姐玛丽亚还是那样谨小而慎微、容貌不美丽的上了岁数的女郎，她永远是在惊恐和痛苦中，在毫无裨益的闷闷不乐的心境中度过最佳的年华。布里安小姐还是个尽情享受她的生命的每一瞬息的喜形于色的洋洋自得的卖弄风骚的女郎。安德烈公爵心里觉得，她只是变得更富于自信罢了。安德烈公爵从瑞士带回本国的那个教师德萨尔，虽然总是身穿一套俄国式的常礼服，操着一口蹩脚的俄语和仆人谈话，但是他仍旧是个不太聪明的、有学问也有德行的书呆子。老公爵在身体方面唯一的变化就是在一边嘴里缺少一颗牙齿；他的脾气依然如故，只不过他对外界发生的事情很容易激怒，疑心更重罢了。尼古卢什卡只是长高了，相貌子变了，两颊是绯红的，蓄着一头乌黑的鬈发，当他高兴和哈哈大笑的时候，他那漂亮的小嘴上唇无意识地翘起来，和那个已经辞世的小公爵夫人一模一样。不过他不愿意服从这座因着魔而陷入沉睡状态的古旧城堡里的一成不变的法则。表面上的一切虽然像过去一样，但是自从安德烈公爵离开此地后，这些人的内部关系发生了变化。家庭成员分成了两个视若路人的互相敌对的营垒，现在只是看在他的面上，才把平常的生活方式改变过来，大家当着他的面团聚在一起了。老公爵、布里安小姐、建筑师属于一个营垒，公爵小姐玛丽亚、德萨尔、尼左卢什卡、所有的保姆和乳母属于另一个营垒。

他在童山的时候，家里的人都在一起聚餐，但是所有的人都困窘不安，安德烈公爵觉得他是个来宾，大家为了他，才有这样的例外，当着他的面，大家都很不自在。头一天聚餐的当儿，安德烈公爵就不由地产生了这种感觉，他不开腔了，老公爵一眼便看出他的面色显得不自然，也板着面孔一声不响，吃罢午饭后就回到自己房里去了。夜晚，安德烈公爵去看他，竭力地使他打起精神来，给他讲到小伯爵卡缅斯基远征的事儿，可是老公爵突然向他谈起公爵小姐玛丽亚，指责她的迷信观念、诉说玛丽亚不爱布里安小姐，还说，唯独有布里安小姐才是个真正效忠于他的人。

老公爵说，如果他害病了，应当归咎于公爵小姐玛丽亚，她故意使他受折磨，小公爵尼古拉学坏了，那是因为她溺爱他，还说了许多蠢话。老公爵十分清楚，是他使女儿遭受痛苦，她的生活很为难，可是他也晓得他不能不折磨她，她活该受苦。“安德烈公爵为什么看到了这一点，而只字不提他的妹妹呢？”老公爵想道，“他是否以为我是个坏人或者是老糊涂了，毫无缘由地使我自己和女儿疏远起来，却与一个法国女人接近呢？他不明了，应当向他说明，要让他倾听我说的话。”老公爵想道。他开始说明他为什么对自己女儿的愚蠢性格不能容忍了。

“假如您问我，”安德烈公爵两眼不望他父亲，说道（这是他有生以来第一次责备父亲）“我原来不想这样说，可是如果您真要问我，那么我就坦白地将我对这一切的意见讲给您听，因为我知道玛莎是非常敬爱您的，若是说您和她之间有什么误会和不和睦的话，那么我千万不能责怪她。假如您问我，”安德烈公爵急躁地说，近来他容易暴躁，“只有一点我能对您说，假使会发生误会的话，那么，它的根源就在那个卑微的女人身上，她不配当我妹妹的女伴。”

老头子开头定睛望着他儿子，不自然地咧着嘴微笑，露出安德烈公爵至今尚未看惯的牙齿中间的新豁口。

“亲爱的，什么女伴？嗯？你们都已经谈过啦！嗯？”

“爸爸，我不愿当什么审判官，”安德烈公爵带有恼怒而且生硬的声调说，“但是，是您首先向我挑衅的，我说过，不要再说一遍，公爵小姐玛丽亚没有罪过，而有罪过的正是那些……是那个法国婆子的罪过……”

“喏，你来宣判，判我的罪啦！”老年人低声地说，安德烈公爵觉得他的语声有点窘，但是，紧接着老年人忽然跳起来，大声喊道：“给我滚开，给我滚开！不要让我看见你的影子啊！……”

安德烈公爵心里想立即离开这个家，但是玛丽亚公爵小姐劝他再待上一天，安德烈公爵这一天未和他父亲见面，老年人没有出门，除了布里安小姐和吉洪，不让任何人走进房里去，不止一次地询问，他儿子走了没有。翌日临行前，安德烈公爵走进儿子的房间。那个健康的像妈妈一样长着鬈发的男孩坐在他的膝头上。安德烈公爵给他儿子讲蓝胡子的故事，可是没有把故事讲完，他沉吟起来。他不是在想这个抱在他膝盖上的漂亮的小儿子，他在想自己。他怀着恐惧在内心深处寻找而未能找到那因触怒他父亲而懊悔的心情，他亦未能找到因和他有生以来第一遭口角的父亲离别而遗憾的心情。最重要的是，他对他儿子表示爱抚，把他抱在膝盖上，他希望从他内心引起对他的温柔的感情，但是他觉得，他无论怎样也找不到过去他对自己儿子的温柔的感情。

“讲吧。”儿子说。安德烈公爵没有回答他的话，他把他从膝盖上抱下来，走出了房门。

安德烈公爵只要一把日常工作抛开，特别是回到他幸福地生活过的那个昔日的环境，忧愁的心绪像从前那样强烈地向他袭击，他就赶快回避往事的回忆，找点事儿来做。

“安德烈，你一定要走吗？”妹妹对他说。

“我可以离开，感谢那上天。”安德烈公爵说，“你走不了，我很惋惜哩。”

“你为什么这样说呀！”玛丽亚公爵小姐说，“现在你去打一场可怕的战争，他这么老迈，你怎么会说出这样的话啊！布里安小姐说，他老是问你呢……”她刚一打开话匣子，她的嘴唇就颤抖起来了，眼泪汪汪地直流。安德烈公爵把脸转过来，开始在房里踱来踱去。

“啊，我的天呀！我的天呀！”他说道，“你会料想不到，不管一件什么东西，一个什么人是多么微不足道，都有可能使人遭到不幸！”他说道，他那恼怒的口吻使公爵小姐玛丽亚感到惊讶。

她明了，他言下的微不足道的人，指的不仅是使他遭遇不幸的布里安小姐，而且是指那个破坏他的幸福的家伙。

“安德烈，我央求你，我只有一件事求你，”她说，碰了一下他的臂肘，用噙满眼泪的闪闪发亮的眼睛望着他。“我了解你（公爵小姐玛丽亚垂下眼帘）。不要以为不幸是人所造成的。人是上帝的工具。”她朝安德烈公爵头顶上方稍高的地方看了一眼，她那目光流露着在看圣像时所习惯的虔信的神情。

“不幸乃为上帝所赐予，实非人所造成。人是上帝的工具。他们都是无罪的人。如果你觉得有谁开罪于你，那么你就忘掉吧，原宥吧。我们没有惩罚的权利，你是会懂得宽恕的幸福的。”

“玛丽亚，如果我是女人，我准会那样做的，那是女人的品格，但是男人就不要忘记和宽恕。”他说，尽管此时他没有想到库拉金，可是在他心中的尚未发泄的怒火突然燃烧起来了。“假如公爵小姐玛丽亚已经劝我宽恕，那就意味着，我早就应该惩罚了。”他想道。他再也不去回答公爵小姐玛丽亚，这时他开始想到他在碰见库拉金时（他晓得库拉金此刻在军队里）那个令人痛快的、复仇的时刻。

公爵小姐玛丽亚恳求她哥哥多呆一天，她说，假如安德烈未能同父亲和好就离开，那末他父亲真会感到难受的，可是安德烈公爵回答说，也许他不久就会从军队回来，他一定给他父亲写信，目前他在家中住得愈久，关系也就会愈恶劣。

“Adieu，Andre！Rappelez－vous　que　les　malheurs　viennent　de　Dieu，et　que　les　hommes　ne　sont　janais　coupables．”①这就是他向妹妹道别时听见他妹妹说的最后几句话。

①法语：安德烈，再见！要记着，不幸是来自上帝，人们是永远没有罪过的。

“是的，事情也只有如此！”安德烈公爵乘车驶出童山宅第的林荫道时这样想道。“她这个可怜的无罪的女人，只有忍受昏聩的老年人的折磨吧。老年人知道自己做得不对，但是改不了。我的男孩正在成长，享受人生的欢乐，他也像每个人一样，将来在生活中或者受人欺骗，或者欺骗别人。为什么我要到军队里去呢？——我自己也不晓得，我指望碰见那个我所鄙视的小人，赐予他一个打死我嘲笑我的有利条件！”生活环境依然如故，但过去它是平和而舒适的，目前这一切全都破碎了。一些不连贯的、毫无意义的现象在安德烈公爵的头脑中接一连二地浮现出来。