WITH A SMILE that never left his lips, Nikolay sat bent a little forward on a low chair, and stooping close over his blonde beauty, he paid her mythological compliments.
Jauntily shifting the posture of his legs in his tight riding-breeches, diffusing a scent of perfume, and admiring his fair companion and himself and the fine lines of his legs in the tight breeches, Nikolay told the blonde lady that he wanted to elope with a lady here, in Voronezh.
“What is she like?”
“Charming, divine. Her eyes” (Nikolay gazed at his companion) “are blue, her lips are coral, her whiteness…” he gazed at her shoulders, “the shape of Diana…”
The husband came up to them and asked his wife gloomily what she was talking of.
“Ah! Nikita Ivanitch,” said Nikolay, rising courteously. And as though anxious for Nikita Ivanitch to take a share in his jests, he began to tell him too of his intention of running away with a blonde lady.
The husband smiled grimly, the wife gaily.
The good-natured governor's wife came up to them with a disapproving air.
“Anna Ignatyevna wants to see you, Nikolay,” she said, pronouncing the name in such a way that Rostov was at once aware that Anna Ignatyevna was a very great lady. “Come, Nikolay. You let me call you so, don't you?”
“Oh, yes, ma tante. Who is she?”
“Anna Ignatyevna Malvintsev. She has heard about you from her niece, how you rescued her…Do you guess?…”
“Oh, I rescued so many!” cried Nikolay.
“Her niece, Princess Bolkonsky. She is here in Voronezh with her aunt. Oho! how he blushes! Eh?”
“Not a bit of it, nonsense, ma tante.”
“Oh, very well, very well. Oh! oh! what a boy it is!”
The governor's wife led him up to a tall and very stout lady in a blue toque, who had just finished a game of cards with the personages of greatest consequence in the town. This was Madame Malvintsev, Princess Marya's aunt on her mother's side, a wealthy, childless widow, who always lived in Voronezh. She was standing up, reckoning her losses, when Rostov came up to her.
She dropped her eyelids with a severe and dignified air, glanced at him, and went on upbraiding the general who had been winning from her.
“Delighted, my dear boy,” she said, holding out her hand to him. “Pray come and see me.”
After saying a few words about Princess Marya and her late father, whom Madame Malvintsev had evidently disliked, and inquiring what Nikolay knew about Prince Andrey, who was apparently also not in her good graces, the dignified old lady dismissed him, repeating her invitation to come and see her.
Nikolay promised to do so and blushed again as he took leave of Madame Malvintsev. At the mention of Princess Marya's name, Rostov experienced a sensation of shyness, even of terror, which he could not have explained to himself.
On leaving Madame Malvintsev, Rostov would have gone back to the dance, but the little governor's wife laid her plump little hand on his sleeve, and saying that she wanted to have a few words with him, led him into the divan-room; the persons in that room promptly withdrew that they might not be in her way.
“Do you know, mon cher,” said the governor's wife with a serious expression on her good-natured, little face, “this is really the match for you; if you like, I will try and arrange it.”
“Whom do you mean, ma tante?” asked Nikolay.
“I will make a match for you with the princess. Katerina Petrovna talks of Lili, but I say, no—the princess. Do you wish it? I am sure your mamma will be grateful. Really, she is such a splendid girl, charming! And she is by no means so very plain.”
“Not at all so,” said Nikolay, as though offended at the idea. “As for me, ma tante, as a soldier should, I don't force myself on any one, nor refuse anything that turns up,” said Rostov, before he had time to consider what he was saying.
“So remember then; this is no jesting matter.”
“How could it be!”
“Yes, yes,” said the governor's wife, as though talking to herself. “And entre autres, mon cher, you are too assiduous with the other—the blonde. One feels sorry for the husband, really…”
“Oh no, we are quite friendly,” said Nikolay in the simplicity of his heart: it had never occurred to him that such an agreeable pastime for him could be other than agreeable to any one else.
“What a stupid thing I said to the governor's wife though!” suddenly came into Nikolay's mind at supper. “She really will begin to arrange a match, and Sonya?…”
And on taking leave of the governor's wife, as she said to him once more with a smile, “Well, remember then,” he drew her aside.
“But there is something…To tell you the truth, ma tante…”
“What is it, what is it, my dear? Come, let us sit down here.”
Nikolay had a sudden desire, an irresistible impulse to talk of all his most secret feelings (such as he would never have spoken of to his mother, to his sister, to an intimate friend) to this woman, who was almost a stranger. Whenever Nikolay thought afterwards of this uncalled-for outbursts of inexplicable frankness—though it had most important consequences for him—it seemed to him (as it always seems to people in such cases) that it had happened by chance, through a sudden fit of folly. But at the same time this outburst of frankness, together with other insignificant events, had consequences of immense importance to him and to all his family.
“It's like this, ma tante. It has long been maman's wish to marry me to an heiress; but the mere idea of it—marrying for money—is revolting to me.”
“Oh yes, I can understand that,” said the governor's wife.
“But Princess Bolkonsky, that's a different matter. In the first place, I'll tell you the truth, I like her very much, I feel drawn to her, and then, ever since I came across her in such a position, so strangely, it has often struck me, that it was fate. Only think: mamma has long been dreaming of it, but I had never happened to meet her before—it always so happened that we didn't meet. And then when my sister, Natasha, was engaged to her brother, of course it was impossible to think of a match between us then. It seems it was to happen that I met her first just when Natasha's engagement had been broken off; and well, everything afterwards…So you see how it is. I have never said all this to any one, and I never shall. I only say it to you.”
The governor's wife pressed his elbow gratefully.
“Do you know Sophie, my cousin? I love her; I have promised to marry her, and I am going to marry her…So you see it's no use talking of such a thing,” Nikolay concluded lamely, flushing crimson.
“My dearest boy, how can you talk so? Why, Sophie hasn't a farthing, and you told me yourself that your papa's affairs are terribly straitened. And your maman? It would kill her—for one thing. Then Sophie, if she is a girl of any heart, what a life it would be for her! Your mother in despair, your position ruined…No, my dear, Sophie and you ought to realise that.”
Nikolay did not speak. It was comforting to him to hear these arguments.
“All the same, ma tante, it cannot be,” he said, with a sigh, after a brief silence. “And besides would the princess accept me? And again she is in mourning; can such a thing be thought of?”
“Why, do you suppose I am going to marry you out of hand on the spot? There are ways of doing everything,” said the governor's wife.
“What a match-maker you are, ma tante…” said Nikolay, kissing her plump little hand.
尼古拉脸上挂着永不消逝的微笑，微微弯腰坐在扶手椅里，俯身挨近金发女人，对她讲一些神话般的恭维话。
尼古拉机敏地变换着穿笔挺马裤的双脚的位置，身上散发出香水气味，欣赏着面前的女士，欣赏着自己和自己那穿着挺刮刮的马靴的两只脚的轮廓，他告诉她他想在沃罗涅日干什么：拐走一位女士。
“什么样子的？”
“迷人的，女神般的。她的眼睛（尼古拉看一眼对话者）是蔚蓝色的，嘴像红珊瑚，雪白的雪白的……”他看着那肩膀，“身段像狄安娜①的……”
①罗马神话中的月亮和狩猎女神。
丈夫走过来阴沉地问妻子在谈什么。
“噢！尼基塔·伊凡内奇，”尼古拉恭敬地站起来说，然后，好像希望尼基塔·伊凡内奇也和他一起开玩笑似的，并且把自己要拐走一位金发女人的打算告诉他。
丈夫忧郁地微笑，妻子笑得开心。和蔼的省长夫人带着不以为然的神色向他们走来。
“安娜·伊格纳季耶夫娜想见你，Nicolas，”她说，那说出这个名字的声调，使罗斯托夫顿时明白，安娜·伊格纳季耶夫娜是一位重要的贵妇。“我们走吧，Nicolas。是你让我这样称呼你的吧？”
“呵，是的，matante（伯母）。她是谁呢？”
“安娜·伊格纳季耶夫娜·马利温采娃。她从她外甥女处听说你救了她的命……你猜得中吗？……”
“我搭救过她们很多人呢！”尼古拉说。
“她的外甥女博尔孔斯卡娅公爵小姐。她在这里，在沃罗涅日，同姨妈一起住。哎哟，瞧你脸红的！难道，是不是？
……”
“没想到，别乱猜，matante。”
“呶，好，好。呵！你真是的！”
省长夫人把他领到一个高大富态的老太太跟前，她戴一顶蓝色直筒帽，刚刚结束同城里最有头面的人物的一个牌局。这便是马利温采娃，玛丽亚公爵小姐的姨妈，一个无儿无女的富孀，一直定居在沃罗涅日的。她正站着算牌帐，罗斯托夫走到她跟前。她严厉地傲慢地眯缝眼睛看了他一眼，并且继续骂那个赢了她钱的将军。
“很高兴见到你，我亲爱的，”她说，并把手伸给他，“请到舍下看我。”
这位自尊的老太太谈了几句玛丽亚公爵小姐和她的亡父（马利温采娃显然不喜欢他），又询问一番尼古拉熟识的安德烈公爵（他显然也没有博得她的欢心）的情况，说了几遍邀他过府访问，然后就让他走了。
当尼古拉向马利温采娃鞠躬告退时，答应她前去拜访，又涨红了脸。一提起玛丽亚公爵小姐，尼古拉就体验到一种连他本人也不可名状的羞赧的，甚至害怕的感觉。
离开马利温采娃，罗斯托夫本想再回去跳舞，但是娇小的省长夫人把她丰腴的手放到尼古拉衣袖上，说要同他谈谈，便带他走进起居室，里面的人马上退出，以免妨碍省长夫人。
“知道吗？moncher（我亲爱的），”省长夫人娇小而和蔼的脸上带着严肃的表情说，“她配你真是相宜的一对呢；想不想，我给你保媒？”
“谁呀，matante？”尼古拉问。
“我这是给公爵小姐提亲。卡捷琳娜·彼得罗夫娜说莉莉，而我的意见是，不，应该是公爵小姐。愿意吗？我相信你妈咪会感谢我。真的，多好的姑娘，多有魅力！她一点也不丑。”
“一点也不，”尼古拉像是受了委屈似地说。“我，matanBte，像军人的本份，既不伸手向谁要，也不摆手拒绝谁。”罗斯托夫来不及想好回答便先这样说了。
“你要记住：这不是玩笑。”
“怎么是玩笑呢！”
“对，对，”省长夫人像自言自语似地说，“还有一点，monch－er，entreautres，vousêtestropassiduauprèsdel'autre，lablonde①，丈夫怪可怜的，真的……”
①亲爱的，你对那个人，对那个金发女人太殷勤了。
“噢，不，我和他是朋友。”尼古拉心地单纯地说：他未曾想到，他这样愉快的消遣，会给别人造成不愉快。
“可是，我对省长夫人说了些什么蠢话哟！”晚餐时，尼古拉才突然想起来。“她真的开始做媒，索尼娅怎么办？……”而当和省长夫人告辞时，她微笑着再次对他说：“呶，你要记住啊。”他把她领到一旁说：
“是这样，我要对您照实说，ma，tante……”
“说什么，我的朋友，咱们就在这里坐下来。”
尼古拉突然觉得自己愿意说话，必须说话，想把自己心底的想法（那些即使对母亲妹妹朋友也不会说的想法）讲给这个几乎是外人的女人听。后来，尼古拉回忆起这次并无什么动机的无法解释的，却又对他产生重大后果的坦诚直言的冲动时，他似乎觉得（像这种情况下人人都会觉得那样）那是一时之糊涂；但恰恰是这次坦诚的冲动，加上其他一些小事情，对他，也对他的家族有了重大后果。
“是这样，matante，妈咪早就要我娶一位富家女子；但我反对只出于金钱目的结婚的想法。”
“哦，对，我懂。”省长夫人说。
“但博尔孔斯卡娅公爵小姐——这是另一回事；首先，我对您讲真话吧，她很令我爱慕，很称我的心，此外，当我在那种情况下碰到她之后，非常奇怪的是，我常常想：这是命运。尤其是您想想看：妈咪早就想到这点，但早先我没有机会见到她，不知什么原因，情况就是这样：我们碰不到一起。而且，只要我的妹妹娜塔莎还是她哥哥的未婚妻，我就不可能考虑娶她。应该在娜塔莎婚约解除之后碰到她，那末，一切就……事情就是这样。我从未对谁讲过，今后也不告诉别人。只对您讲了。”
省长夫人感激地按了按他的臂肘。
“您知道索菲，我表妹吗？我爱她，我许诺要娶她，而且一定要娶她……所以您瞧，这件事就不能谈了。”尼古拉措词不当地红着脸说。
“Moncher，moncher，你怎么这样想？索菲不是什么也没有吗，你自己都说，你爸爸的家业情况很糟。还有你妈咪呢？这会立即要她的命的。这是其一，再说索菲，如果她是有心眼的姑娘，她将会过什么样的生活啊？母亲绝望，家道衰落……不，moncher，你和索菲应该明白这点。”
尼古拉默然。他听到这样的结论是愉快的。
“总之，matante，这是不可能的，”他沉默一会儿后叹口气说。“也不知道公爵小姐是否愿意嫁给我呢。况且，她现在居丧。难道能考虑这种事吗？”
“难道你以为我现在就让你结婚？Ilyamanièreet
manière．”①省长夫人说。
①事情都是有一定规矩的。
“您是多么好的媒人啊，matante……”Nicolas吻着她丰腴的小手说。
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