THE GREY-HAIRED VALET was sitting in the waiting-room dozing and listening to the prince's snoring in his immense study. From a far-off part of the house there came through closed doors the sound of difficult passages of a sonata of Dusseck's repeated twenty times over.
At that moment a carriage and a little cart drove up to the steps, and Prince Andrey got out of the carriage, helped his little wife out and let her pass into the house before him. Grey Tihon in his wig, popping out at the door of the waiting-room, informed him in a whisper that the prince was taking a nap and made haste to close the door. Tihon knew that no extraordinary event, not even the arrival of his son, would be permitted to break through the routine of the day. Prince Andrey was apparently as well aware of the fact as Tihon. He looked at his watch as though to ascertain whether his father's habits had changed during the time he had not seen him, and satisfying himself that they were unchanged, he turned to his wife.
“He will get up in twenty minutes. Let's go to Marie,” he said.
The little princess had grown stouter during this time, but her short upper lip, with a smile and the faint moustache on it, rose as gaily and charmingly as ever when she spoke.
“Why, it is a palace,” she said to her husband, looking round her with exactly the expression with which people pay compliments to the host at a ball. “Come, quick, quick!” As she looked about her, she smiled at Tihon and at her husband, and at the footman who was showing them in.
“It is Marie practising? Let us go quietly, we must surprise her.” Prince Andrey followed her with a courteous and depressed expression.
“You're looking older, Tihon,” he said as he passed to the old man, who was kissing his hand.
Before they had reached the room, from which the sounds of the clavichord were coming, the pretty, fair-haired Frenchwoman emerged from a side-door. Mademoiselle Bourienne seemed overwhelmed with delight.
“Ah, what a pleasure for the princess!” she exclaimed. “At last! I must tell her.”
“No, no, please not” … said the little princess, kissing her. “You are Mademoiselle Bourienne; I know you already through my sister-in-law's friendship for you. She does not expect us!”
They went up to the door of the divan-room, from which came the sound of the same passage repeated over and over again. Prince Andrey stood still frowning as though in expectation of something unpleasant.
The little princess went in. The passage broke off in the middle; he heard an exclamation, the heavy tread of Princess Marya, and the sound of kissing. When Prince Andrey went in, the two ladies, who had only seen each other once for a short time at Prince Andrey's wedding, were clasped in each other's arms, warmly pressing their lips to the first place each had chanced upon. Mademoiselle Bourienne was standing near them, her hands pressed to her heart; she was smiling devoutly, apparently equally ready to weep and to laugh. Prince Andrey shrugged his shoulders, and scowled as lovers of music scowl when they hear a false note. The two ladies let each other go; then hastened again, as though each afraid of being remiss, to hug each other, began kissing each other's hands and pulling them away, and then fell to kissing each other on the face again. Then they quite astonished Prince Andrey by both suddenly bursting into tears and beginning the kissing over again. Mademoiselle Bourienne cried too. Prince Andrey was unmistakably ill at ease. But to the two women it seemed such a natural thing that they should weep; it seemed never to have occurred to them that their meeting could have taken place without tears.
“Ah, ma chère!… Ah, Marie!” … both the ladies began talking at once, and they laughed. “I had a dream last night. Then you did not expect us? O Marie, you have got thinner.”
“And you are looking better …”
“I recognized the princess at once,” put in Mademoiselle Bourienne.
“And I had no idea!” … cried Princess Marya. “Ah, Andrey, I did not see you.”
Prince Andrey and his sister kissed each other's hands, and he told her she was just as great a cry-baby as she always had been. Princess Marya turned to her brother, and through her tears, her great, luminous eyes, that were beautiful at that instant, rested with a loving, warm and gentle gaze on Prince Andrey's face. The little princess talked incessantly. The short, downy upper lip was continually flying down to meet the rosy, lower lip when necessary, and parting again in a smile of gleaming teeth and eyes. The little princess described an incident that had occurred to them on Spasskoe hill, and might have been serious for her in her condition. And immediately after that she communicated the intelligence that she had left all her clothes in Petersburg, and God knew what she would have to go about in here, and that Andrey was quite changed, and that Kitty Odintsov had married an old man, and that a suitor had turned up for Princess Marya, “who was a suitor worth having,” but that they would talk about that later. Princess Marya was still gazing mutely at her brother, and her beautiful eyes were full of love and melancholy. It was clear that her thoughts were following a train of their own, apart from the chatter of her sister-in-law. In the middle of the latter's description of the last fête-day at Petersburg, she addressed her brother.
“And is it quite settled that you are going to the war, Andrey?” she said, sighing. Liza sighed too.
“Yes, and to-morrow too,” answered her brother.
“He is deserting me here, and Heaven knows why, when he might have had promotion …” Princess Marya did not listen to the end, but following her own train of thought, she turned to her sister-in-law, letting her affectionate eyes rest on her waist.
“Is it really true?” she said.
The face of her sister-in-law changed. She sighed.
“Yes, it's true,” she said. “Oh! It's very dreadful …”
Liza's lip drooped. She put her face close to her sister-in-law's face, and again she unexpectedly began to cry.
“She needs rest,” said Prince Andrey, frowning. “Don't you, Liza? Take her to your room, while I go to father. How is he—just the same?”
“The same, just the same; I don't know what you will think,” Princess Marya answered joyfully.
“And the same hours, and the walks about the avenues, and the lathe?” asked Prince Andrey with a scarcely perceptible smile, showing that, in spite of all his love and respect for his father, he recognised his weaknesses.
“The same hours and the lathe, mathematics too, and my geometry lessons,” Princess Marya answered gaily, as though those lessons were one of the most delightful events of her life.
When the twenty minutes had elapsed, and the time for the old prince to get up had come, Tihon came to call the young man to his father. The old man made a departure from his ordinary routine in honour of his son's arrival. He directed that he should be admitted into his apartments during his time for dressing, before dinner. The old prince used to wear the old-fashioned dress, the kaftan and powder. And when Prince Andrey—not with the disdainful face and manners with which he walked into drawing-rooms, but with the eager face with which he had talked to Pierre—went in to his father's room, the old gentleman was in his dressing-room sitting in a roomy morocco chair in a peignoir, with his head in the hands of Tihon.
“Ah! the warrior! So you want to fight Bonaparte?” said the old man, shaking his powdered head as far as his plaited tail, which was in Tihon's hands, would permit him.
“Mind you look sharp after him, at any rate, or he'll soon be putting us on the list of his subjects. How are you?”
And he held out his cheek to him.
The old gentleman was in excellent humour after his nap before dinner. (He used to say that sleep after dinner was silver, but before dinner it was golden.) He took delighted, sidelong glances at his son from under his thick, overhanging brows. Prince Andrey went up and kissed his father on the spot indicated for him. He made no reply on his father's favourite topic—jesting banter at the military men of the period, and particularly at Bonaparte.
“Yes, I have come to you, father, bringing a wife with child,” said Prince Andrey, with eager and reverential eyes watching every movement of his father's face. “How is your health?”
“None but fools, my lad, and profligates are unwell, and you know me; busy from morning till night and temperate, so of course I'm well.”
“Thank God,” said his son, smiling.
“God's not much to do with the matter. Come, tell me,” the old man went on, going back to his favourite hobby, “how have the Germans trained you to fight with Bonaparte on their new scientific method—strategy as they call it?”
Prince Andrey smiled.
“Give me time to recover myself, father,” he said, with a smile that showed that his father's failings did not prevent his respecting and loving him. “Why, I have only just got here.”
“Nonsense, nonsense,” cried the old man, shaking his tail to try whether it were tightly plaited, and taking his son by the hand. “The house is ready for your wife. Marie will look after her and show her everything, and talk nineteen to the dozen with her too. That's their feminine way. I'm glad to have her. Sit down, talk to me. Mihelson's army, I understand, Tolstoy's too … a simultaneous expedition … but what's the army of the South going to do? Prussia, her neutrality … I know all that. What of Austria?” he said, getting up from his chair and walking about the room, with Tihon running after him, giving him various articles of his apparel. “What about Sweden? How will they cross Pomerania?”
Prince Andrey, seeing the urgency of his father's questions, began explaining the plan of operations of the proposed campaign, speaking at first reluctantly, but becoming more interested as he went on, and unconsciously from habit passing from Russian into French. He told him how an army of ninety thousand troops was to threaten Prussia so as to drive her out of her neutrality and draw her into the war, how part of these troops were to join the Swedish troops at Strahlsund, how two hundred and twenty thousand Austrians were to combine with a hundred thousand Russians in Italy and on the Rhine, and how fifty thousand Russians and fifty thousand English troops were to meet at Naples, and how the army, forming a total of five hundred thousand, was to attack the French on different sides at once. The old prince did not manifest the slightest interest in what he told him. He went on dressing, as he walked about, apparently not listening, and three times he unexpectedly interrupted him. Once he stopped him and shouted: “the white one! the white one!”
This meant that Tihon had not given him the waistcoat he wanted. Another time, he stood still, asked: “And will she be confined soon?” and shook his head reproachfully: “That's bad! Go on, go on.”
The third time was when Prince Andrey was just finishing his description. The old man hummed in French, in his falsetto old voice: “Malbrook goes off to battle, God knows when he'll come back.”
His son only smiled.
“I don't say that this is a plan I approve of,” he said; “I'm only telling you what it is. Napoleon has made a plan by now as good as this one.”
“Well, you have told me nothing new.” And thoughtfully the old man repeated, speaking quickly to himself: “God knows when he'll come back. Go into the dining-room.”
白发苍苍的侍仆一面坐在那里打瞌睡，一面静听大书斋里公爵的鼾声。住宅远处的一端，紧闭着的门户后面，可以听见杜塞克奏鸣曲，难奏的乐句都重奏二十次。
这时分，一辆四轮轿式马车和一辆轻便马车开到台阶前，安德烈公爵从轿式马车车厢里走出来，搀扶矮小的妻子下车，让她在前面走。白发苍苍的吉洪，头戴假发，从堂倌休息间的门里探出头来，轻言细语地禀告：公爵正在睡觉，随即仓忙地关上了大门。吉洪知道，无论是他儿子归来，还是出现非常事故，都不宜破坏作息制度。安德烈公爵像吉洪一样对这件事了若指掌。他看看表，似乎想证实一下他离开父亲以来父亲的习惯是否发生变化。当他相信父亲的习惯没有改变之后，便转过脸去对妻子说：
“过二十分钟他才起床。我们到公爵小姐玛丽亚那里去吧。”
他说道。
在这段时间以来，矮小的公爵夫人可真长胖了，但是当她开腔的时候，那双眼睛抬了起来，长有茸毛的短嘴唇微露笑意，向上翘起来，一望便令人欣快，讨人喜爱。
“maisc'estunpalais．”①她向四周打量一番，对丈夫说道，那神态就像跳舞会的主人被人夸耀似的，“Allons，vite，vite！…”②她一面回顾，一面对吉洪、对丈夫、对伴随她的堂倌微露笑容。
“C'estmariequisexerce？Allonsdoucement，ilfautlasurprendre．”③
①法语：这真是皇宫啊！
②法语：喂，快点吧，快点吧！……
③法语：是玛丽亚在练钢琴吗？我们不声不响地走过去，省得她望见我们。
安德烈公爵面露恭敬而忧悒的表情，跟在她后面走去。
“吉洪，你变老了。”他走过去，一面对吻他的手的老头子说道。
在那可以听见击弦古钢琴声的房间前面，一个貌美的长着浅色头发的法国女人从侧门跳出来。布里安小姐欣喜欲狂了。
“Ah！quelbonheurpourlaprincesse，”她说道“Enfin！
Ilfautquejelaprevienne．”①
“Non，non，degrace…VousêtesM—lleBourienne，jevousconnaisdéjàparl'amitiequevousportemablle－soeur．”公爵夫人和她接吻时说道，“Ellenenousattendpas！”②
①法语：公爵小姐该会多么高兴啊！毕竟是来了！应该事先告诉她。
②法语：不，不，真是的……您可就是布里安小姐，我的儿媳妇是您的好朋友，我已经认识您了。她没料想我们来了。
他们向休息室门前走去，从门里传出反复弹奏的乐句。安德烈公爵停步了，蹙了蹙额头，好像在等待不愉快的事件发生似的。
公爵夫人走进来，乐句奏到半中间就停止了，可以听见叫喊声，公爵小姐玛丽亚的沉重的步履声和接吻的声音。当安德烈公爵走进来的时候，公爵夫人和公爵小姐拥抱起来了，她们的嘴唇正紧紧贴在乍一见面就亲嘴的地方，她们二人只是在安德烈公爵举行婚礼时短暂地会过一次面。布里安小姐站在她们身边，两手扪住胸口，露出虔诚的微笑，看起来，无论是啼哭还是嘻笑，她都有充分准备。安德烈公爵像音乐爱好者听见一个走调的音那样，耸了一下肩膀，蹙了一下眉头。两个女人把手放开了，然后，仿佛惧怕迟误似的，她们又互相抓住一双手，亲吻起来，放开两只手又互相吻吻脸皮。她们哭起来了，哭着哭着又亲吻起来，安德烈公爵认为这是出人意料的事。布里安小姐同样地哭了。看来安德烈公爵感到尴尬，但是在这两个女人心目中，她们的啼哭是很自然的。显然，她们并不会推测，这次见面会搞出什么别的花样。
“Ah！chère…Ah！marie…”两个女人忽然笑起来，开口说道，“J'airêvécettenuit…Vousnenousattendiezdoncpas？…Ah！Marie，vousavezmaigri…Etvousavezrepris…”①
“J'aitoutdesuitereconnumadamelaprincesse，”②布里安小姐插上一句话。
“Etmoiquinemedoutaispas！…”公爵小姐玛丽亚惊叫道，“Ah！André，jenevousvoyaispas．”③
安德烈公爵和他的妹妹手拉手地互吻了一下，他对她说，她还像过去那样是个pleurnicheuse。④公爵小姐玛丽亚向她的长兄转过脸去，这时她那对美丽迷人的、炯炯发光的大眼睛透过一汪泪水，把那爱抚、柔和、温顺的目光投射到长兄的脸上。
①法语：啊！亲爱的！……啊！玛丽！……我梦见……——您没料想到我们会来吧？……啊！玛丽，您变得消瘦了，——以前您可真胖啦！
②法语：我立即认出了公爵夫人。
③法语：我连想也没有想到！……啊！安德烈，我真没看见你哩。
④法语：好哭的人。
公爵夫人不住地絮叨。她那长着茸毛的短短的上唇时常飞快地下垂，随意地触动一下绯红色的下唇的某一部分，之后她又微微一笑，露出皓白的牙齿和亮晶晶的眼睛。公爵夫人述说他们在救主山经历过一次对她怀孕的身体极为危险的遭遇，随后她立刻谈起她将全部衣服都留在彼得堡了，天晓得她在这里要穿什么衣服，她还谈起安德烈完全变样了，吉蒂·奥登佐娃许配给一个老年人，公爵小姐玛丽亚有个pourtoutdebon①未婚夫，这件事我们以后再叙。公爵小姐玛丽亚还是默不作声地望着长兄，她那美丽动人的眼睛流露出爱意和哀愁。可见，萦绕她心头的思绪此时不以嫂嫂的言论为转移。嫂嫂谈论彼得堡最近举行的庆祝活动。在谈论的半中间，她向长兄转过脸去。
“安德烈，你坚决要去作战吗？”她叹息道。
丽莎也叹了一口气。
“而且是明天就动身。”长兄答道。
“Ilm'abandonneici，etDieusaitpourquoi，quandilauBraitpuavoirdel'avancement…”②
①法语：真正的。
②法语：他把我丢在这里了，天晓得，目的何在，而他是有能力晋升的……
公爵小姐玛丽亚还在继续思索，没有把话儿听完，便向嫂嫂转过脸来，用那温和的目光望着她的肚子。
“真的怀孕了吗？”她说道。
公爵夫人的脸色变了。她叹了一口气。
“是的，真怀孕了，”她说道，“哎呀！这很可怕……”
丽莎的嘴唇松垂下来。她把脸盘凑近小姑的脸盘，出乎意料地又哭起来了。
“她必需休息休息，”安德烈公爵蹙起额角说，“对不对，丽莎？你把她带到自己房里去吧，我到爸爸那儿去了。他现在怎样？还是老样子吗？”
“还是那个样子，还是那个老样子，不晓得你看来他是怎样。”公爵小姐高兴地答道。
“还是在那个时间，照常在林荫道上散步吗？在车床上劳作吗？”安德烈公爵问道，几乎看不出微笑，这就表明，尽管他十分爱护和尊敬父亲，但他也了解父亲的弱点。
“还是在那个时间，在车床上劳作，还有数学，我的几何课。”公爵小姐玛丽亚高兴地答道，好像几何课在她生活上产生了一种极为愉快的印象。
老公爵起床花费二十分钟时间之后，吉洪来喊年轻的公爵到他父亲那里去。老头为欢迎儿子的到来，破除了生活方式上的惯例：他吩咐手下人允许他儿子在午膳前穿衣戴帽时进入他的内室。公爵按旧式穿着：穿长上衣，戴扑粉假发。当安德烈向父亲内室走去时，老头不是带着他在自己客厅里故意装的不满的表情和态度，而是带着他和皮埃尔交谈时那种兴奋的神情，老年人坐在更衣室里一张宽大的山羊皮面安乐椅上，披着一条扑粉用披巾，把头伸到吉洪的手边，让他扑粉。
“啊！兵士！你想要征服波拿巴吗？”老年人说道，因为吉洪手上正在编着发辫，只得在可能范围内晃了晃扑了粉的脑袋，“你好好收拾他才行，否则他很快就会把我们看作他的臣民了。你好哇！”他于是伸出自己的面颊。
老年人在午膳前睡觉以后心境好极了。（他说，午膳后睡眠是银，午膳前睡眠是金。）他从垂下的浓眉下高兴地斜着眼睛看儿子。安德烈公爵向父亲跟前走去，吻了吻父亲指着叫他吻的地方。他不去回答父亲中意的话题——对现时的军人，尤其是对波拿巴稍微取笑一两句。
“爸爸，是我到您跟前来了，还把怀孕的老婆也带来，”安德烈公爵说道，他用兴奋而恭敬的目光注视着他脸上每根线条流露的表情，“您身体好么？”
“孩子，只有傻瓜和色鬼才不健康哩，你是知道我的情况的：从早到晚都忙得很，饮食起居有节制，真是够健康的。”
“谢天谢地！”儿子脸上流露出微笑，说道。
“这与上帝无关！欸，你讲讲吧，”他继续说下去，又回到他爱谈的话题上，“德国人怎样教会你们凭藉所谓战略的新科学去同波拿巴战斗。”
安德烈公爵微微一笑。
“爸爸，让我醒悟过来吧，”他面露微笑，说道，这就表示，父亲的弱点并不妨碍他对父亲敬爱的心情，“我还没有安顿下来呢。”
“胡扯，胡扯，”老头子嚷道，晃动着发辫，想试试发辫编得牢固不牢固，一面抓着儿子的手臂，“你老婆的住房准备好了。公爵小姐玛丽亚会领她去看房间，而且她会说得天花乱坠的。这是她们娘儿们的事。我看见她就很高兴啊。你坐下讲讲吧。米切尔森的军队我是了解的，托尔斯泰……也是了解的……同时登陆……南方的军队要干什么呢？普鲁士、中立……这是我所知道的。奥地利的情况怎样？”他从安乐椅旁站起来，在房间里踱方步，吉洪跟着他跑来跑去，把衣服送到他手上，“瑞典的情况怎样？他们要怎样越过美拉尼亚呢？”
安德烈公爵看见他父亲坚决要求，开头不愿意谈，但是后来他越谈越兴奋，由于习惯的关系，谈到半中间，情不自禁地从说俄国话改说法国话了，他开始述说拟议中的战役的军事行动计划。他谈到，九万人的军队定能威胁普鲁士，迫使它放弃中立，投入战争，一部分军队必将在施特拉尔松与瑞典军队合并；二十二万奥国军队和十万俄国军队合并，必将在意大利和莱茵河上采取军事行动，五万俄国军队和五万英国军队必将在那不勒斯登陆；合计五十万军队必将从四面进攻法国军队。儿子述说的时候，老公爵没有表示一点兴趣，好像不听似的，一边走路一边穿衣服，接连有三次出乎意外地打断儿子的话。有一次制止他说话，喊道：
“白色的，白色的！”
他的意思是说吉洪没有把他想穿的那件西装背心送到他手上。另一次，他停步了，开口问道：
“她快要生小孩吧？”他流露出责备的神态，摇摇头说道，“很不好！继续说下去，继续说下去。”
第三次，在安德烈公爵快要叙述完毕的时候，老年人用那假嗓子开始唱道：“Malbroug，s'envo—t—enguerre．Dieusaitquandreviendra．”①
儿子只是微微一笑而已。
①法语：马尔布鲁去远征，天知道什么时候才回来。
“我不是说，这是我所称赞的计划，”儿子说道，“我只是对您讲讲有这么一个计划。拿破仑拟订了一个更好的计划。”
“唉，你没有说出一点新消息，”老年人沉思，像放连珠炮似地喃喃自语：“Dieusaitquandreviendra，”又说：“去餐厅里吧。”
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