Book 8 Chapter 12

THE NEXT DAY the Rostovs did not go anywhere, and no one came to see them. Marya Dmitryevna had a discussion with Natasha's father, which she kept secret from her. Natasha guessed they were talking of the old prince and making some plan, and she felt worried and humiliated by it. Every minute she expected Prince Andrey, and twice that day she sent a man to Vosdvizhenka to inquire whether he had not arrived. He had not arrived. She felt more dreary now than during the first days in Moscow. To her impatience and pining for him there were now added the unpleasant recollections of her interview with Princess Marya and the old prince, and a vague dread and restlessness, of which she did not know the cause. She was continually fancying either that he would never come or that something would happen to her before he came. She could not brood calmly for long hours over his image by herself as she had done before. As soon as she began to think of him, her memory of him was mingled with the recollection of the old prince and Princess Marya, and of the theatre and of Kuragin. Again the question presented itself whether she had not been to blame, whether she had not broken her faith to Prince Andrey, and again she found herself going over in the minutest detail every word, every gesture, every shade in the play of expression on the face of that man, who had known how to awaken in her a terrible feeling that was beyond her comprehension. In the eyes of those about her, Natasha seemed livelier than usual, but she was far from being as serene and happy as before.

On Sunday morning Marya Dmitryevna invited her guests to go to Mass to her parish church of Uspenya on Mogiltse.

“I don't like those fashionable churches,” she said, obviously priding herself on her independence of thought. “God is the same everywhere. Our parish priest is an excellent man, and conducts the service in a suitable way, so that is all as it should be, and his deacon too. Is there something holier about it when there are concerts in the choir? I don't like it; it's simply self-indulgence!”

Marya Dmitryevna liked Sundays, and knew how to keep them as holidays. Her house was always all scrubbed out and cleaned on Saturday; neither she nor her servants did any work, and every one wore holiday-dress and went to service. There were additional dishes at the mistress's dinner, and the servants had vodka and roast goose or a suckling-pig at theirs. But in nothing in the whole house was the holiday so marked as in the broad, severe face of Marya Dmitryevna, which on that day wore a never-varying expression of solemnity.

When after service they were drinking coffee in the drawing-room, where the covers had been removed from the furniture, the servant announced that the carriage was ready, and Marya Dmitryevna, dressed in her best shawl in which she paid calls, rose with a stern air, and announced that she was going to call on Prince Nikolay Andreitch Bolkonsky to ask for an explanation of his conduct about Natasha. After Marya Dmitryevna had gone, a dressmaker waited upon the Rostovs from Madame Chalmey, and Natasha, very glad of a diversion, went into a room adjoining the drawing-room, and shutting the door between, began trying on her new dresses. Just as she had put on a bodice basted together, with the sleeves not yet tacked in, and was turning her head to look at the fit of the back in the looking-glass, she caught the sound of her father's voice in the drawing-room in eager conversation with another voice, a woman's voice, which made her flush red. It was the voice of Ellen. Before Natasha had time to take off the bodice she was trying on, the door opened, and Countess Bezuhov walked into the room, wearing a dark heliotrope velvet gown with a high collar, and beaming with a good-natured and friendly smile.

“O my enchantress!” she said to the blushing Natasha. “Charming! No, this is really beyond anything, count,” she said to Count Ilya Andreitch, who had followed her in. “How can you be in Moscow, and go nowhere? No, I won't let you off! This evening we have Mademoiselle George giving a recitation, and a few people are coming; and if you don't bring your lovely girls, who are much prettier than Mademoiselle George, I give up knowing you! My husband's not here, he has gone away to Tver, or I should have sent him for you. You must come, you positively must, before nine o'clock.”

She nodded to the dressmaker, who knew her, and was curtseying respectfully, and seated herself in a low chair beside the looking-glass, draping the folds of her velvet gown picturesquely about her. She kept up a flow of good-humoured and light-hearted chatter, and repeatedly expressed her enthusiastic admiration of Natasha's beauty. She looked through her dresses and admired them, spoke with admiration, too, of a new dress of her own “of metallic gas,” which she had received from Paris, and advised Natasha to have one like it.

“But anything suits you, my charmer!” she declared. The smile of pleasure never left Natasha's face. She felt happy, and as it were blossoming out under the praises of this charming Countess Bezuhov, who had seemed to her before a lady so unapproachable and dignified, and was now being so king to her. Natasha's spirits rose, and she felt almost in love with this handsome and good-natured woman. Ellen, for her part, was genuine in her admiration of Natasha, and in her desire to make her enjoy herself. Anatole had begged her to throw him with Natasha, and it was with that object she had come to the Rostovs'. The idea of throwing her brother and Natasha together amused her.

Although Ellen had once owed Natasha a grudge for carrying off Boris from her in Petersburg, she thought no more of that now, and with all her heart wished Natasha nothing but good. As she was leaving the Rostovs', she drew her protégée aside.

“My brother was dining with me yesterday—we half died with laughing at him—he won't eat, and does nothing but sigh for you, my charmer! He is madly, madly in love with you, my dear.”

Natasha flushed crimson on hearing those words.

“How she blushes, how she blushes, my pretty!” Ellen went on. “You must be sure to come. If you do love some one, it is not a reason to cloister yourself. Even if you are betrothed, I am sure your betrothed would have preferred you to go into society rather than to languish in ennui.”

“So then she knows I am engaged. So then they with her husband, with Pierre, with that good Pierre, talked and laughed about it. So that it means nothing.”

And again under Ellen's influence what had struck her before as terrible seemed to her simple and natural. “And she, such a grande dame, is so kind, and obviously she likes me with all her heart,” thought Natasha. “And why not enjoy myself,” thought Natasha, gazing at Ellen with wide-open, wondering eyes.

Marya Dmitryevna came back to dinner silent and serious, having evidently been defeated by the old prince. She was too much agitated by the conflict she had been through to be able to describe the interview. To the count's inquiries, she replied that everything had been all right and she would tell him about it next day. On hearing of the visit of Countess Bezuhov and the invitation for the evening, Marya Dmitryevna said:

“I don't care to associate with Countess Bezuhov and I don't advise you to, but still, since you have promised, better go. It will divert your mind,” she added, addressing Natasha.

看完歌剧后的第二天，罗斯托夫家里的人什么地方都不去，也没有人来看他们。玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜瞒着娜塔莎跟她父亲商量什么来着。娜塔莎心里琢磨，认为他们在谈论老公爵，打定了什么主意，这使她惴惴不安和受委屈。她每时每刻都在等待安德烈公爵，当天曾两次派管院子的人到弗慈德维仁卡去探听他是否抵达。他还没有来。她在目前比刚刚到达的头几天更加难过了。她不仅显得不耐烦，常常想念他，而且不愉快地回忆她跟公爵小姐玛丽亚和老公爵会见的情景，她莫明其妙地感到恐惧和焦虑不安。她心中总是觉得他永远不能回来，或者在他还没有到达之前她会发生什么事。她不能像从前那样独自一人心平气和地、长时间地想到他。她一开始想到他，他就在她头脑中浮现出来，而且还会回想到老公爵、公爵小姐玛丽亚以及最近一次的歌剧表演和库拉金。她的思想中又出现一个问题：她是不是有愧悔之意，她对安德烈公爵的忠贞是不是已被毁灭，她详尽地回想那个在她心中激起一种百思不解的可怕的感觉的人的每句话、每个手势和面部表情的不同程度的流露。在她家里人看来，娜塔莎比平常更为活跃，然而她远远不如从前那样安详和幸福了。

礼拜天早晨，玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜邀请客人们到她自己的教区圣母升天堂去做日祷。

“我不喜欢这些时髦的教堂，”她说道，她因有自由思想而自豪。“到处只有一个上帝，我们教区的牧师文质彬彬、循规蹈矩地供职，光明磊落，就连助祭也是如此。唱诗班里响起协奏曲，还讲什么圣洁？我不喜欢，真是胡作非为啊！”

玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜喜欢礼拜天，而且善于欢度礼拜天。礼拜六她的住宅就清扫、刷洗得干干净净，家仆们和她在这天都不工作，大家穿着节日的服装去作日祷。老爷在午餐时加馔，也施给仆人们伏特加酒、烤鹅或烤乳猪肉。但是节日的氛围，在整幢住房的任何物体上都不像在玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜那张宽大而严肃的脸上那样引人注目，礼拜日她的脸上一贯地流露着庄重的表情。

他们在日祷之后畅饮咖啡，在那取下家具布套的客厅里，仆人禀告玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜，就四轮轿式马车已经备好。她披上拜客时用的华丽的披肩，现出严肃的神态，站立起来，说她要去拜访尼古拉·安德烈伊奇·博尔孔斯基公爵，向他说明有关娜塔莎的事。

玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜走后，夏尔姆夫人时装店的女时装师来到罗斯托夫家，娜塔莎关上客厅隔壁的房门，开始试穿新连衣裙，她对这种消遣感到很满意。当她试穿那件还没有缝好衣袖、粗粗地缭上几针的束胸，转过头来照镜子，看看后片是否合身的时候，听见客厅里传来她父亲和一个女人兴致勃勃地谈话的声音，她听见女人的语声之后涨红了脸。这是海伦的说话声。娜塔莎还来不及脱下试穿的束胸，门就敞开了，伯爵夫人别祖霍娃穿着一体暗紫色的天鹅绒的高领连衣裙，面露温和的微笑走进房里来。

“Ah，ma　délicieuse！”①她对涨红了脸的娜塔莎说，“Charmante！②不，这太不像话，我可爱的伯爵，”她对跟在她后面走进来的伊利亚·安德烈伊奇说，“怎么能住在莫斯科，什么地方都不去呢？不，我决不会落在您后面！今天晚上乔治小姐在我那里朗诵，还有一些人也会来团聚，如果您不把您那两个长得比乔治小姐更美丽的姑娘带来，我就不想睬您了。丈夫不在这里，他到特韦尔去了，要不然，我打发他来接你们。请您一定光临，一定光临，八点多钟。”她向她熟悉的毕恭毕敬地向她行屈膝礼的女时装师点点头，然后在镜子旁边的安乐椅上坐下来，姿态优美地展开她那件天鹅绒连衣裙的褶子。她态度温和，心地愉快，絮絮叨叨地说不完，不停地赞赏娜塔莎的美丽的容貌。她仔细瞧瞧她的连衣裙，夸奖一番，她也炫耀她那件从巴黎买到的en　gaz　

métallique③新连衣裙，建议娜塔莎也做一件同样的衣裳。

①法语：啊，我的惹人爱的姑娘！

②法语：真好看！

③法语：用金属罗纱做的。

“不过，无论什么衣裳您穿起来都合身，我的惹人爱的姑娘。”她说。

娜塔莎的脸上始终流露着欢乐的微笑。她受到这个可爱的伯爵夫人别祖霍娃的夸奖，觉得自己很幸福，简直是心花怒放，娜塔莎从前觉得她是个难以接近的骄傲的太太，她如今对她却很和善了。娜塔莎非常快活，她觉得自己几乎爱上了这位如此美丽、如此善心的女人。海伦也真诚地赞扬娜塔莎，想让她快活一阵。阿纳托利求她领他去和娜塔莎结识，她正是为了这件事才到罗斯托夫家里来。介绍哥哥和娜塔莎结识的念头使她感到可笑。

虽然她从前埋怨娜塔莎，因为她在彼得堡夺走了她的鲍里斯，现在她不去想这件事了，她根据自己的看法，全心全意地祝愿娜塔莎幸福。她在离开罗斯托夫之家时，把她的被保护人叫到一边去。

“昨天我哥哥在我那儿吃午饭，我们都笑得要命——他食不下咽，想到您时就长吁短叹，我的惹人爱的姑娘。il　est　fou，mais　fou　amoureux　de　vous，ma　chére①。”

娜塔莎听了这些话，涨红了脸。

“脸太红了，脸太红了，ma　délicieuse！②”海伦说。“您一定要来。Si　vous　aimez　quelqu'un，ma　délicieuse，ce　n'est　pas　une　raison　pour　se　cloeBtrer．Si　même　vous　êtes　promise，je　suis　suBre　que　votre　promis　aurait　désiré　que　vous　alliez　dans　le　monde　en　son　absence　plutoBt　que　dedépérir　denAnui③．”

①法语：他神经错乱，他的确爱您爱得神经错乱了。

②法语：我的惹人爱的姑娘。

③法语：如果您爱了什么人，我的惹人爱的姑娘，这也不是您足不出户的理由。甚至您是个未婚妻，我相信，您的未婚夫与其任凭您苦闷到要死，他莫如让您跻身于上流社会。

“这么说来，她知道我是一个未婚妻，这么说来，她和她丈夫，和皮埃尔，和这个公平的皮埃尔谈论过并且嘲笑过这桩事了。这么说来，这不算什么。”娜塔莎想道。在海伦的影响下，娜塔莎觉得，原先好像很可怕的事情，现在看来又很平常，又很自然了。“她是个grande　dame①，这样可爱，很明显，她是全心全意地疼爱我的，”娜塔莎想道：“为什么不开开心呢？”娜塔莎想道，她瞪大眼睛，惊讶地谛视海伦。

①法语：有权有势的夫人。

午饭前，玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜回来了，她默默不语，那样子十他严肃，显然她在老公爵那儿遭到失败。她因为发生了一场冲突，显得非常激动，以致不能心平气和地述说这件事。她对伯爵提出的问题这样回答：一切都很顺利，明天再讲给他听。玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜打听到伯爵夫人别祖霍娃来访并且邀请她出席晚会的消息后便这样说：

“我不喜欢和别祖霍娃交往，也劝你们不要和她交朋友，唔，既然已经答应了，就去消遣消遣。”她向娜塔莎转过脸来，补充说。