Book 8 Chapter 13

COUNT ILYA ANDREITCH took his two girls to the Countess Bezuhov's. There were a good many people assembled there. But Natasha hardly knew any of the persons present. Count Ilya Andreitch observed with dissatisfaction that almost all the company consisted of men or of ladies notorious for the freedom of their behaviour. Mademoiselle George was standing in one corner of the room, surrounded by young men. There were several Frenchmen present, and among them Metivier, who had been a constant visitor at Countess Bezuhov's ever since her arrival in Moscow. Count Ilya Andreitch made up his mind not to take a hand at cards, not to leave his daughter's side, and to get away as soon as Mademoiselle George's performance was over.

Anatole was at the door, unmistakably on the look-out for the Rostovs. At once greeting the count, he went up to Natasha and followed her in. As soon as Natasha saw him, the same feeling came upon her as at the theatre—the feeling of gratified vanity at his admiration of her, and terror at the absence of any moral barrier between them.

Ellen gave Natasha a delighted welcome, and was loud in her admiration of her loveliness and her dress. Soon after their arrival, Mademoiselle George went out of the room to change her dress. In the drawing-room chairs were being set in rows and people began to sit down. Anatole moved a chair for Natasha, and would have sat down by her, but the count, who was keeping his eye on Natasha, took the seat beside her. Anatole sat down behind.

Mademoiselle George, with bare, fat, dimpled arms, and a red scarf flung over one shoulder, came into the empty space left for her between the chairs and threw herself into an unnatural pose. An enthusiastic whisper was audible.

Mademoiselle George scanned her audience with stern and gloomy eyes, and began reciting French verses, describing her guilty love for her son. In places she raised her voice, in places she dropped to a whisper solemnly lifting her head; in places she broke off and hissed with rolling eyes.

“Exquisite, divine, marvellous!” was heard on all sides. Natasha gazed at the fat actress; but she heard nothing, saw nothing and understood nothing of what was passing before her. She felt nothing, but that she was borne away again irrevocably into that strange and senseless world so remote from her old world, a world in which there was no knowing what was good and what was bad, what was sensible and what was senseless. Behind her was sitting Anatole; and conscious of his nearness, she was in frightened expectation of something.

After the first monologue all the company rose and surrounded Mademoiselle George, expressing their admiration.

“How handsome she is!” said Natasha to her father, as he got up with the rest and moved through the crowd to the actress.

“I don't think so, looking at you,” said Anatole, following Natasha. He said this at a moment when no one but she could hear him. “You are charming…from the moment I first saw you, I have not ceased…”

“Come along, come along, Natasha!” said the count, turning back for his daughter. “How pretty she is!”

Natasha saying nothing went up to her father, and gazed at him with eyes of inquiring wonder.

After several recitations in different styles, Mademoiselle George went away, and Countess Bezuhov invited all the company to the great hall.

The count would have taken leave, but Ellen besought him not to spoil her improvised ball. The Rostovs stayed on. Anatole asked Natasha for a waltz, and during the waltz, squeezing her waist and her hand, he told her she was bewitching and that he loved her. During the écossaise, which she danced again with Kuragin, when they were left alone Anatole said nothing to her, he simply looked at her. Natasha was in doubt whether she had not dreamed what he said to her during the waltz. At the end of the first figure he pressed her hand again. Natasha lifted her frightened eyes to his face, but there was an expression of such assurance and warmth in his fond look and smile that she could not as she looked at him say what she had to say to him. She dropped her eyes.

“Don't say such things to me. I am betrothed, and I love another man …” she articulated rapidly. She glanced at him. Anatole was neither disconcerted nor mortified at what she had said.

“Don't talk to me of that. What is that to me,” he said; “I tell you I am mad, mad with love of you. Is it my fault that you are fascinating?…It's for us to begin.”

Natasha, eager and agitated, looked about her with wide-open, frightened eyes, and seemed to be enjoying herself more than usual. She scarcely grasped anything that happened that evening. They danced the écossaise and “Grandfather.” Her father suggested their going, and she begged to stay longer. Wherever she was, and with whomsoever she was speaking, she felt his eyes upon her. Then she remembered that she had asked her father's permission to go into a dressing-room to rearrange her dress, that Ellen had followed her, had talked to her, laughing, of her brother's passion, and that in the little divan-room she had been met again by Anatole; that Ellen had somehow vanished, they were left alone, and Anatole taking her by the hand, had said in a tender voice:

“I can't come to see you, but is it possible that I shall never see you? I love you madly. Can I never …?” and barring her way he brought his face close to hers.

His large, shining, masculine eyes were so close to her eyes, that she could see nothing but those eyes.

“Natalie?” his voice whispered interrogatively, and her hands were squeezed till it hurt. “Natalie?”

“I don't understand; I have nothing to say,” was the answer in her eyes.

Burning lips were pressed to her lips, and at the same instant she felt herself set free again, and caught the sound of Ellen's steps and rustling gown in the room again. Natasha looked round towards Ellen; then, red and trembling, she glanced at him with alarmed inquiry, and moved towards the door.

“One word, just one word, for God's sake,” Anatole was saying. She stopped. She so wanted him to say that word, that would have explained to her what had happened and to which she could have found an answer.

“Natalie, one word … one …” he kept repeating, plainly not knowing what to say, and he repeated it till Ellen reached them.

Ellen went back with Natasha to the drawing-room. The Rostovs went away without staying to supper.

When she got home, Natasha did not sleep all night. She was tortured by the insoluble question, Which did she love, Anatole or Prince Andrey? Prince Andrey, she did love—she remembered clearly how great her love was for him. But she loved Anatole too, of that there was no doubt. “Else could all that have happened?” she thought. “If after that I could answer with a smile to his smile at parting, if I could sink to that, it means that I fell in love with him from the first minute. So he must be kind, noble, and good, and I could not help loving him. What am I to do, if I love him and the other too?” she said to herself, and was unable to find an answer to those terrible questions.

伊利亚·安德烈伊奇伯爵把他两个姑娘送到伯爵夫人别祖霍娃那里去了。相当多的人出席了晚会。然而娜塔莎几乎不认识所有到会的人。伊利亚·安德烈伊奇伯爵不满地发觉，所有这些出席晚会的人多半是以自由散漫而出名的男人和女士。一群青年人把乔治小姐围在中间，她站在客厅的角落里。几个法国人也出席晚会，其中一人自从海伦抵达此地后成为海伦的家里人。伊利亚·安德烈伊奇伯爵决定不打纸牌，不离开女儿们身边，一当乔治表演完毕就回家去。

阿纳托利显然是在门旁等罗斯托夫家里人进来。伯爵一走来，他立刻向伯爵问好，然后走到娜塔莎面前，跟在她后面。就像在戏院中那样，娜塔莎刚刚望见他，她就被那种徒慕虚荣的快感——因为他喜欢她而产生的一种虚荣心——控制住了，又因为她与他之间没有道德上的隔阂，所以她心中产生了一种恐惧感。

海伦愉快地接待娜塔莎，大声地夸奖她的美丽的容貌和装束。他们抵达后不久乔治小姐就从房里走出来，穿上衣裳。他们在客厅里摆好椅子，坐下来了。阿纳托利把椅子向娜塔莎那边挪一挪，想坐在旁边，但是伯爵目不转睛地望着娜塔莎，在她身旁坐下来。阿纳托利坐在他们后面。

乔治小姐裸露着两只粗大的有小窝窝的胳膊，一边肩膀上披着一条红色的披巾，走到安乐椅之间给她腾出来的地方，她停下来，姿势不自然。可以听见兴高采烈的低语声。

乔治小姐严肃而阴郁地环视了一下观众，她开始用法语朗诵一首诗，这首诗中讲的是她对她儿子的非法的爱情。朗诵到某个地方她提高嗓音，朗诵到某个地方她庄重地昂起头来，低声细语，在某个地方停顿一下，瞪大着眼睛发出嘶哑的声音。

“Adorable，divin，délicieux！”①可以听见四面八方的喊声。娜塔莎瞧着胖乎乎的乔治，可是什么也听不见，看不见，面前发生的事她全不明白，她只觉得她自己无可挽回地远离过去的世界，完全沉浸在令人可怕的疯狂的世界，在这个世界她没法知道什么是善，什么是丑，什么是理性，什么是狂妄。阿纳托利坐在她后面，她觉得他离她太近，因此惊惶失措地等待着什么。

①法语：令人陶醉神妙，美不胜言！

在初次独白之后，所有的人都站起来，围住了乔治小姐，向她表示自己喜悦的心情。

“她多么漂亮！”娜塔莎对父亲说，她和其他人一同站起来，穿过一群人向女伶身边走去。

“当我望您时，我不认为她更美丽。”阿纳多利跟在娜塔莎后面说。当她一个人能够听见话音的时候，他才说了这句话。“您非常可爱……自从我看见您，我始终……”

“娜塔莎，咱们走吧，咱们走吧，”伯爵走回来叫女儿，“她非常漂亮！”

娜塔莎不说一句话，走到父亲跟前，用疑惑得出奇的目光望着他。

乔治小姐朗诵了几次后，便走了，伯爵夫人别祖霍娃请大伙儿到大厅里去。

伯爵想走了，但是海伦央求他不要搞垮她的即兴舞会。罗斯托夫家里的人留了下来。阿纳多利请娜塔莎跳华尔兹舞，在跳华尔兹舞的时候，他紧紧握着她的腰身和臂膀并且对她说，她ravissante①，他很爱她。当她又和库拉金同跳苏格兰民间舞时，当他们二人单独待在一起时，阿纳多利一言不发，只是眼巴巴地望着她。娜塔莎感到疑惑，她是否还在做梦，梦见在跳华尔兹舞时他对她说了什么话。在跳完第一轮时，他又握住她的手。娜塔莎向他抬起恐惧的眼睛，他的和蔼的眼神和微笑中含有如此自信和温柔的表情，以致在她凝视他时她不能说出她应该向他说的话。她垂下眼帘。

①法语：十分迷人。

“您不要向我说这种事情，我已经订婚，我爱着另外一个人。”她急促地说……她朝他瞥了一眼。阿纳托利没有腼腆起来，他对她所说的话不感到难过。

“您不要向我提到这件事。这与我何干？”他说。“我要说，我爱上您了，爱得发狂，发狂。您招人喜欢，难道归罪于我吗？……我们要开始跳了。”

娜塔莎兴奋起来，心里又忐忑不安，瞪大了惊恐的眼睛，环顾四周，她仿佛觉得比平日更加快活。她几乎一点也不了解这天夜里出了什么事。他们跳了苏格兰民间舞和格罗斯法特舞，父亲就请她离开舞厅，她请求父亲让她留下来。无论她在那里，无论她和谁说话，她都觉察到他投射在她身上的目光。然后她想到，她请她家父允许她去更衣室整理一下连衣裙，海伦跟在她身后，一边发笑，一边向她谈到他哥哥的爱情，之后在一间摆着沙发的休息室里又遇见阿纳托利，海伦溜到什么地方去了，于是他们俩个人留在那里，阿纳托利紧握她的手，用那温柔的嗓音说：

“我不能到您那儿去，但是我难道永远看不到您么？我爱您爱得发狂了，难道永远也不能？……”于是他拦住路口，把他的脸凑近她的脸。

他那闪闪发亮的男人的大眼睛离她的眼睛太近了，使她简直看不见什么，她所看见的只是这一对眼睛。

“娜塔莎？！”他疑惑地低声说，有个什么人把她的手握得很疼。“娜塔莎？！”

“我一点也不明白，我没有什么可说的。”她的目光仿佛这样说。

热乎乎的嘴唇紧紧地贴着她的嘴唇，这时分她又觉得自己太放任了，房间里可以听见海伦的步履声和连衣裙的窸窣的响声。娜塔莎回头望望海伦，她满面通红，战战兢兢，现出恐惧的疑问的眼神向他瞥视一下，往门口走去。

“Un　mot，un　seul，au　nom　de　Dieu．”①阿纳托利说。

她停步了。她希望他说这句话，如果这句话能够向她说明发生的事情，她就要回答他了。

“Nathalie，un　mot，un　seul．”②他老是重说这句话，显然他不知道该说什么好，他说了一遍又一遍，直至海伦走到他们跟前才住口。

①法语：有一句话，只有一句话，看在上帝面上。

②法语：娜塔莎，有一句话，一句话。

海伦和娜塔莎又一同走进客厅。罗斯托夫家里的人没有留在那里吃晚饭，便启行了。

娜塔莎回家之后，彻夜没有睡觉；她爱过谁——阿纳托利还是安德烈公爵——这个悬而未决的问题，使她心里很难受。她爱过安德烈公爵，她清楚地记得她坚定地爱过他。但是她也爱过阿纳托利，这是毫无疑义的。“否则这一切会不会发生？”她想道。“既然在此之后我能够，和他告别时能够用微笑回答他的微笑，既然我能够容许这样做，那就是说我起初就爱他了。那就是说，他慈善、高尚而且长得英俊，不能不爱他。既然我爱他，又爱别人，那怎么办呢？”她自言自语，对这些令人可怕的问题得不到解答。