ON HEARING from Nikolay that her brother was at Yaroslavl with the Rostovs, Princess Marya, in spite of her aunt's efforts to dissuade her, prepared at once to go to him and to go not alone, but with her nephew; whether this were difficult or not, whether it were possible or not, she did not inquire, and did not care to know: it was her duty not only to be herself at the side of her—perhaps dying—brother, but to do everything possible to take his son to him, and she prepared to set off. If Prince Andrey had not himself communicated with her, Princess Marya put that down either to his being too weak to write, or to his considering the long journey too difficult and dangerous for her and his son.
Within a few days Princess Marya was ready for the journey. Her equipage consisted of her immense travelling coach in which she had come to Voronezh, and a covered trap and a waggon. She was accompanied by Mademoiselle Bourienne, Nikolushka, with his tutor, the old nurse, three maids, Tihon, a young valet, and a courier, whom her aunt was sending with her.
To travel by the usual route to Moscow was not to be thought of, and the circuitous route which Princess Marya was obliged to take by Lipetsk, Ryazan, Vladimir, and Shuya was very long; from lack of posting horses difficult; and in the neighbourhood of Ryazan, where they were told the French had begun to appear, positively dangerous.
During this difficult journey, Mademoiselle Bourienne, Dessalle, and Princess Marya's servants were astonished at the tenacity of her will and her energy. She was the last to go to rest, the first to rise, and no difficulty could daunt her. Thanks to her activity and energy, which infected her companions, she was towards the end of the second week close upon Yaroslavl.
The latter part of her stay in Voronezh had been the happiest period in Princess Marya's life. Her love for Rostov was not then a source of torment or agitation to her. That love had by then filled her whole soul and become an inseparable part of herself, and she no longer struggled against it. Of late Princess Marya was convinced—though she never clearly in so many words admitted it to herself—that she loved and was beloved. She had been convinced of this by her last interview with Nikolay when he came to tell her that her brother was with the Rostovs. Nikolay did not by one word hint at the possibility now (in case of Prince Andrey's recovery) of his engagement to Natasha being renewed, but Princess Marya saw by his face that he knew and thought of it. And in spite of that, his attitude to her—solicitous, tender, and loving—was so far from being changed, that he seemed overjoyed indeed that now a sort of kinship between him and Princess Marya allowed him to give freer expression to his loving friendship, as Princess Marya sometimes thought it. Princess Marya knew that she loved for the first and last time in her life, and felt that she was loved, and she was happy and at peace in that relation.
But this happiness on one side of her spiritual nature was far from hindering her from feeling intense grief on her brother's account. On the contrary, her spiritual peace on that side enabled her to give herself more completely to her feeling for her brother. This feeling was so strong at the moment of setting out from Voronezh that all her retinue were persuaded, looking at her careworn, despairing face, that she would certainly fall ill on the journey. But the very difficulties and anxieties of the journey, which Princess Marya tackled with such energy, saved her for the time from her sorrow and gave her strength.
As is always the case on a journey, Princess Marya thought of nothing but the journey itself, forgetting what was its object. But on approaching Yaroslavl, when what might await her—and not now at the end of many days, but that very evening—became clear to her mind again, her agitation reached its utmost limits.
When the courier, whom she had sent on ahead to find out in Yaroslavl where the Rostovs were staying, and in what condition Prince Andrey was, met the great travelling coach at the city gate he was frightened at the terribly pale face that looked out at him from the window.
“I have found out everything, your excellency: the Rostovs are staying in the square, in the house of a merchant, Bronnikov. Not far off, right above the Volga,” said the courier.
Princess Marya looked into his face with frightened inquiry, not understanding why he did not answer her chief question. How was her brother? Mademoiselle Bourienne put this question for the princess.
“How is the prince?” she asked.
“His excellency is staying in the same house with them.”
“He is living, then,” thought the princess; and she softly asked, “How is he?”
“The servants say, ‘No change.' ”
What was meant by “no change” the princess did not inquire, and with a passing, hardly perceptible, glance at little seven-year-old Nikolushka, sitting before her, delighted at the sight of the town, she bowed her head, and did not raise it again till the heavy carriage—rumbling, jolting, and swaying from side to side—came to a standstill. The carriage-steps were let down with a crash.
The carriage-door was opened. On the left was water—a broad river; on the right, entrance steps. At the entrance were people, servants, and a rosy-faced girl with a thick coil of black hair, who smiled at her in an unpleasantly affected way, as it seemed to Princess Marya (it was Sonya). The princess ran up the steps; the girl, smiling affectedly, said, “This way! this way!” and the princess found herself in the vestibule, facing an elderly woman of an Oriental type of face, who came rapidly to meet her, looking moved. It was the countess. She embraced Princess Marya and proceeded to kiss her.
“My child,” she said, “I love you, and have known you a long while.”
In spite of her emotion, Princess Marya knew it was the countess, and that she must say something to her. Not knowing how she did it, she uttered some polite French phrases in the tone in which she had been addressed, and asked, “How is he?”
“The doctor says there is no danger,” said the countess; but as she said it she sighed, and turned her eyes upwards, and this gesture contradicted her words.
“Where is he? Can I see him; can I?” asked the princess.
“In a minute; in a minute, my dear. Is this his son?” she said, turning to Nikolushka, who came in with Dessalle. “We shall find room for every one; the house is large. Oh, what a charming boy!”
The countess led the princess into the drawing-room. Sonya began to converse with Mademoiselle Bourienne. The countess caressed the child. The old count came into the room to welcome the princess. He was extraordinarily changed since Princess Marya had seen him last. Then he had been a jaunty, gay, self-confident old gentleman, now he seemed a pitiful, bewildered creature. As he talked to the princess, he was continually looking about him, as though asking every one if he were doing the right thing. After the destruction of Moscow and the loss of his property, driven out of his accustomed rut, he had visibly lost the sense of his own importance, and felt that there was no place for him in life.
In spite of her one desire to see her brother without loss of time, and her vexation that at that moment, when all she wanted was to see him, they should entertain her conventionally with praises of her nephew, the princess observed all that was passing around her, and felt it inevitable for the time to fall in with the new order of things into which she had entered. She knew that all this was inevitable, and it was hard for her, but she felt no grudge against them for it.
“This is my niece,” said the countess, presenting Sonya; “you do not know her, princess?”
Princess Marya turned to her, and trying to smother the feeling of hostility that rose up within her at the sight of this girl, she kissed her. But she felt painfully how out of keeping was the mood of every one around her with what was filling her own breast.
“Where is he?” she asked once more, addressing them all.
“He is downstairs; Natasha is with him,” answered Sonya, flushing. “We have sent to ask. You are tired, I expect, princess?”
Tears of vexation came into Princess Marya's eyes. She turned away and was about to ask the countess again where she could see him, when she heard at the door light, eager steps that sounded to her full of gaiety. She looked round and saw, almost running in, Natasha — that Natasha whom she had so disliked when they met long before in Moscow.
But Princess Marya had hardly glanced at Natasha's face before she understood that here was one who sincerely shared her grief, and was therefore her friend. She flew to meet her, and embracing her, burst into tears on her shoulder.
As soon as Natasha, sitting by Prince Andrey's bedside, heard of Princess Marya's arrival, she went softly out of the room with those swift steps that to Princess Marya sounded so light-hearted, and ran to see her.
As she ran into the room, her agitated face wore one expression — an expression of love, of boundless love for him, for her, for all that was near to the man she loved — an expression of pity, of suffering for others, and of passionate desire to give herself up entirely to helping them. It was clear that at that moment there was not one thought of self, of her own relation to him, in Natasha's heart.
Princess Marya with her delicate intuition saw all that in the first glance at Natasha's face, and with mournful relief wept on her shoulder.
“Come, let us go to him, Marie,” said Natasha, drawing her away into the next room.
Princess Marya lifted up her head, dried her eyes, and turned to Natasha. She felt that from her she would learn all, would understand all. “How …” she was beginning, but stopped short. She felt that no question nor answer could be put into words. Natasha's face and eyes would be sure to tell her all more clearly and more profoundly.
Natasha looked at her, but seemed to be in dread and in doubt whether to say or not to say all she knew; she seemed to feel that before those luminous eyes, piercing to the very bottom of her heart, it was impossible not to tell the whole, whole truth as she saw it. Natasha's lip suddenly twitched, ugly creases came round her mouth, and she broke into sobs, hiding her face in her hands.
Princess Marya knew everything.
But still she could not give up hope, and asked in words, though she put no faith in them:
“But how is his wound? What is his condition altogether?”
“You … you will see that,” was all Natasha could say.
They sat a little while below, near his room, to control their tears and go in to him with calm faces.
“How has the whole illness gone? Has he been worse for long? When did this happen?” Princess Marya asked.
Natasha told her that at first there had been danger from inflammation and the great pain, but that that had passed away at Troitsa, and the doctor had only been afraid of one thing — gangrene. But the risk of that, too, was almost over. When they reached Yaroslavl, the wound had begun to suppurate (Natasha knew all about suppuration and all the rest of it), and the doctor had said that the suppuration might follow the regular course. Fever had set in. The doctor had said this fever was not so serious. “But two days ago,” Natasha began, “all of a sudden this change came …” She struggled with her sobs. “I don't know why, but you will see the change in him.”
“He is weaker? thinner? …” queried the princess.
“No, not that, but worse. You will see. O Marie, he is too good, he cannot, he cannot live, because …”
从尼古拉那里得到哥哥与罗斯托夫家住在一起，在雅罗斯拉夫尔的消息后，玛丽亚公爵小姐不顾姨母的劝阻，立刻准备赶往那里去，并且不止一个人去，而是带着侄子去。这样做难与不难，可能与不可能，她都不问一问，也不想知道：她的责任是，不仅自己要守在可能已垂危的哥哥身旁，还要尽一切可能把儿子给他带去，因此她登上车子走了。若谓安德烈公爵并未亲自写信给她，则玛丽亚公爵小姐的解释是，要末他太虚弱，不能动笔，要末他认为，对她和对儿子，这条漫长的旅途都太困难太危险了。
玛丽亚公爵小姐是在几天之内作好启程准备的。她的车辆包括她乘坐到沃罗涅得来的那辆大型公爵马车，一辆四轮马车和一辆货车。同她一起走的是布里安小姐，尼古卢什卡和家庭教师，老奶妈，三个使女，吉洪，和姨妈派给她的一个年轻听差兼跟班。
走往常经过莫斯科的那条路想都别想，因此玛丽亚公爵小姐必须选择的迂回的路是：取道利佩茨克，梁赞，弗拉基米尔和舒亚。这条路很长，因驿马不是处处都有，所以又很艰难，同时，在梁赞附近（听说）已出现法国军队，甚至还有危险。
在这一艰难旅途中间，布里安小姐，德萨尔和公爵小姐的仆人，都为她的果断和处事能力惊讶。她比所有的人晚安息，比所有的人早起床，而且任何困难都挡不住她。由于她那使随行者佩服的处事能力和精力，在第二周结束前，他们已抵达雅罗斯拉夫尔。
在沃罗涅日的最后几天，玛丽亚公爵小姐品尝到了一生中最大的幸福。她对罗斯托夫的爱已不再使她感到折磨和焦躁不安。这种爱情充满了她整个灵魂，已构成她本人的不可分割的一部分，她再也不去抗拒它。最近一段时期以来，玛丽亚公爵小姐确信——虽然她从不在心里明确地肯定地对自己这样说——，她已堕入情网。她确信这点，是在和尼古拉见最后一面的时候，就是他来告诉她，她的哥哥与罗斯托夫家在一起的那一次。尼古拉一个字也没暗示，在哥哥和娜塔莎之间，现在（即安德烈公爵健康恢复期间）可以重修旧好，但玛丽亚公爵小姐从他脸上看出，他是知道并有打算的。不过，虽然如此，他对她的态度——小心翼翼，温柔，殷勤——不仅没有改变，而且他似乎还高兴，现在他与玛丽亚公爵小姐之间的亲戚关系，使他能更自如地对她表示自己的友情与爱心，玛丽亚公爵小姐有时这样想。她知道，这是她生活中第一次也是最后一次爱，并且觉得，她享受到了爱情，她幸福，因而很平静。
但心灵方面的幸福，不仅并不阻碍她全心为挂念哥哥而感觉得痛苦，相反地，这一心境的平静，使她更有可能完全陷入对哥哥的思念。她的这种感情，在从沃罗涅日动身前的时刻里表现得如此强烈，以致送行的人见她那痛苦绝望的面孔，都相信她会在路上病倒，但正是旅途的劳顿和操心（她是以她的干练去应付着的），使她暂时去掉悲痛，并给了她力量。
像人们旅行时常有的情形那样，玛丽亚公爵小姐只想着旅行，忘掉了旅行的目的。但临近雅罗斯拉夫尔时，能使她产生联想的东西又展现在她脑际，勿须再过几天，当晚，玛丽亚公爵小姐的不安便达到了极端的限度。提前派去雅罗斯拉夫尔探听罗斯托夫家住处和安德烈公爵情况的跟班，在城门口碰到大型公爵马车时，一见公爵小姐伸出车窗外的那张煞白的脸，吓了一大跳。
“我什么都打听到了，公爵小姐：罗斯托夫家的人住在广场旁，在商人布龙尼科夫家。不远，就在伏尔加河边上。”跟班说。
玛丽亚公爵小姐用惊恐疑问的眼神看着他的脸，不明白他为什么不回答主要的问题：哥哥怎样了？布里恩小姐替她提出了这个问题。
“公爵好吗？”她问。
“爵爷阁下也同他们住在那里。”
“那么，他还活着，”公爵小姐心里想，接着低声问：“他好吗？”
“下人们说：他还是那样。”
“还是那样”是什么意思，公爵小姐不问了，只是迅速偷偷看了一眼七岁的尼古卢什卡，他坐在她对面，正高兴地看着这个城市，于是，她低下头，没有再抬起来，直到这辆大马车颠簸摇晃隆隆地走到停下来为止。折叠脚蹬哐啷一声放了下来。
车门开了。左边是水——一条大河，右边是台阶，台阶上站着数名小厮，一名女仆和一位紫红脸的，梳一条粗黑辫子的姑娘，她在微笑，但笑得难看勉强，玛丽亚公爵小姐有此印象（这是索尼娅）。公爵小姐跑着上台阶，勉强微笑的姑娘说：走这边，走这边！于是，公爵小姐走进前厅，出现在一位有着东方脸型的老妇人面前，她带着深受感动的表情快步迎上前来。这是老伯爵夫人。她抱住公爵小姐，开始吻她。
“Monenfant！”她说道，“jevousaimetvousconnaislongtemps．”①
①我的孩子！我爱您，并且早就认识您了。
尽管自己也很激动，玛丽亚公爵小姐知道她是伯爵夫人，应该同她应酬几句。但她不知如何说，讲了几句客气的法语，语气与伯爵夫人对她说话的语气相同，又问：“他现在怎样？”
“大夫说没有危险，”伯爵夫人回答，但说话时叹了一口气，眼睛往上看，而她装出的这副表情与她的话相矛盾。
“他在哪里？可以看他吗，可以吗？”公爵小姐问。
“马上，公爵小姐，马上，我的朋友。这是他的儿子？”伯爵夫人朝着同德萨尔一道进来的尼古卢什卡说道。“咱们都住得下来，房子很大。哦，多迷人的男孩子！”
伯爵夫人把公爵小姐带进了客厅。索尼娅同布里安小姐攀谈。伯爵夫人爱抚小男孩。老伯爵进屋来欢迎公爵小姐。他在公爵小姐上次见到他以来，起了非常大的变化。那时候，他是一个精神抖擞、愉快、自信的长者，现在看来可怜和不知所措。伯爵同公爵小姐谈话时，不停地看其他人，好像向他们探询，他说话是否得体。在莫斯科和他的家财毁弃之后，一经脱离生活常轨，好像他便失去了对自己活着的意义的认识，觉得生活中已没有他的位置了。
虽然只想快些见到哥哥，虽然苦于在只想见到他的时刻却被耽搁，而且人们在强颜夸奖她的侄子，公爵小姐仍注意到她周围发生的一切，感觉到必须暂时服从她已身陷其中的新的安排。她知道这一切都是必要的，虽然她很难受，但她不埋怨他们。
“这是我的外甥女，”伯爵介绍索尼亚说，“您不认识她吧，公爵小姐？”
公爵小姐向她转过身去，并压下心头对这姑娘的敌意，吻了她。但围住她的这些人的情绪，与她所想的事情相去甚远，她的心情仍然沉重。
“他在哪里？”她对着大家再一次地问道。
“他在楼下，娜塔莎同他在一起，”索尼娅回答，脸红了，“已派人问去了。我想您累了吧，公爵小姐？”
懊恼的眼泪，从公爵小姐眼里涌了出来。她转身想再问伯爵夫人怎样去哥哥那里时，门里响起轻快的急促的，又好像愉快的脚步声。公爵小姐回过头去，看见几乎是跑着进来的娜塔莎，那个老早以前在莫斯科见面时，她很不喜欢的娜塔莎。
可是公爵小姐还没来得及看清这个娜塔莎的脸，就已明白，这是她同病相怜的诚挚的伙伴，因而是她的朋友。她急忙迎了上去，拥抱着她，靠在她肩头上哭了起来。
坐在安德烈公爵床头的娜塔莎，一听到玛丽亚公爵小姐到达的消息，便悄悄离开他的房间，用玛丽亚公爵小姐觉得急忙的，似乎愉快的步子跑来看她。
在她跑进客厅时，她激动的脸上只有一种表情——爱的表情，对他，对她，及对所有使她相爱的人感到亲切的东西的无限的爱，也即是怜惜、为他人感到痛苦、热忱地渴望献出整个自己以帮助他人的表情，看得出，在这一时刻，娜塔莎心口丝毫没考虑自己，没考虑自己同他的关系。
聪敏的玛丽亚公爵小姐，从娜塔莎的脸上一眼便看出这一切，因而又悲又喜地伏在她肩头上哭了一场。
“咱们走吧，咱们去看他吧，玛丽。”娜塔莎说道，并带着她向另一间屋子走去。
公爵小姐抬起脸来，擦干眼睛，然后看着娜塔莎。她觉得，她会从她那里知晓一切。
“他怎样了？”她把问题刚一提出，又突然停下了。她觉得，言辞不足以用来询问，也不足以用来回答。娜塔莎的脸和眼睛会把什么都说得更清楚更深刻的。
娜塔莎看着她，但好像害怕和犹豫不决，是否说出她所知道的全部情况；她好像觉得，在这双看穿她心灵深处的明亮的眼睛面前，不可能瞒住她看到的全部实情。娜塔莎的嘴唇突然抖动，歪扭的皱纹出现在嘴角，她蒙住脸失声痛哭。
玛丽亚公爵小姐什么都明白了。
但她仍然寄予希望，用那为她所不相信的言辞问道：
“他的伤现在怎样？总之，情况怎样？”
“您，您……会看到的。”娜塔莎唯有这样说。
她俩在楼下他的房间外面坐了一会儿，为了止住哭泣，脸上平静地去看他。
“全部病情经过是怎样的？他早就恶化了吗？那是什么时候开始的？”玛丽亚公爵小姐问道。
娜塔莎说，最初，由于发烧和疼痛，情况是危险的，但在特洛伊茨前后，这事过去了，医生只怕一样——生坏疽。但这一危险也过去了。但到了雅罗斯拉夫尔，伤口开始化脓（娜塔莎清楚有关化脓的全部情况以及别的情况），大夫说，化脓可以有好的结果。然后又发烧发冷。大夫说，发冷发烧并不那么危险。
“但两天前，”娜塔莎开始说，“突然发生那……”她忍住不哭出来。“我不知道原因，但您这就会看到他情况怎样。”
“衰弱了吗？瘦了吗？……”公爵小姐问。
“不，不是那样，更糟。您会看到的。噢，玛丽，他太好了，他不能，不能救活了，因为……”
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