AFTER THE TSAR had left Moscow, the life of that city flowed on in its old accustomed channel, and the current of that life ran so much as usual that it was difficult to remember the days of patriotic fervour and enthusiasm, and hard to believe that Russia actually was in danger, and that the members of the English club were also her devoted sons, ready to make any sacrifice for her sake. The one thing that recalled the general patriotic fervour of the days of the Tsar's presence in Moscow was the call for contributions of men and money, and these demands were presented at once in a legal, official form, so that they seemed inevitable. As the enemy drew nearer to Moscow the attitude taken by its inhabitants in regard to their position did not become more serious, but, on the contrary, more frivolous, as is always the case with people who see a great danger approaching. At the approach of danger there are always two voices that speak with equal force in the heart of man: one very reasonably tells the man to consider the nature of the danger and the means of avoiding it; the other even more reasonably says that it is too painful and harassing to think of the danger, since it is not in a man's power to provide for everything and escape from the general march of events; and that it is therefore better to turn aside from the painful subject till it has come, and to think of what is pleasant. In solitude a man generally yields to the first voice; in society to the second. So it was now with the inhabitants of Moscow. It was long since there had been so much gaiety in Moscow as that year.
Rastoptchin's posters, with a print at the top of a gin-shop, a potman, and the Moscow artisan, Karpushka Tchigirin, “who, having gone into the militia, heard that Bonaparte meant to come to Moscow, was mightily wroth thereat, used very bad language about all the French, came out of the gin-shop and began to address the people assembled under the eagles,” were as much read and discussed as the last bouts rimés of Vassily Lvovitch Pushkin.
In the corner room of the club the members gathered together to read these posters; and some liked the way Karpushka was made to jeer at the French, saying that “they would be blown out with Russian cabbage, that Russian porridge would rip their guts open, and cabbage soup would finish them off; that they were all dwarfs, and a village lass could toss three of them on her pitchfork single-handed!”
Some people did not approve of this tone, and said it was vulgar and stupid. People said that Rastoptchin had sent all Frenchmen, and even foreigners, out of Moscow, and that there had been spies and agents of Napoleon among them. But they talked of this principally in order to repeat the witticisms uttered by Rastoptchin on the occasion. The foreigners had been put on a barque sailing to Nizhny, and Rastoptchin had said to them: “Keep yourselves to yourselves, get into the barque, and take care it does not become the barque of Charon to you.” People talked too of all the government offices having been removed from Moscow, and added Shinshin's joke, that for that alone Moscow ought to be grateful to Napoleon. People said that Mamonov's regiment was costing him eight hundred thousand; that Bezuhov was spending even more on his; but that the noblest proof of Bezuhov's patriotism was that he was going to put on the uniform himself and ride at the head of his regiment, without any charge for seats to spectators.
“You have no mercy on any one,” said Julie Drubetskoy, gathering up a pinch of scraped lint in her slender fingers covered with rings.
Julie was intending to leave Moscow next day, and was giving a farewell soirée.
“Bezuhov est ridicule, but he is so good-natured, so nice; how can you take pleasure in being so caustique?”
“Forfeit!” said a young man in a volunteer's uniform, whom Julie called “mon chevalier,” and was taking with her to Nizhny.
In Julie's circle, as in many circles in Moscow, it was a principle now to speak nothing but Russian, and those who made a mistake by speaking French had to pay a forfeit for the benefit of the committee of voluntary subscriptions.
“Another forfeit for a Gallicism,” said a Russian writer who happened to be present. “ ‘Take pleasure!' is not Russian.”
“You have no mercy on any one,” Julie went on to the volunteer, paying no attention to the remark of the author.
“Caustique, I admit,” she said, “and I'll pay for the pleasure of telling you the truth. I am ready to pay even more; but I am not responsible for Gallicisms,” she said to the writer. “I have neither the time nor the money to engage a teacher and learn Russian like Prince Galitzin. Ah, here he is!” added Julie. “Quand on … No, no,” she protested to the volunteer, “you're not going to catch me. When one speaks of the sun, one sees its rays. We were just talking of you,” she said, smiling affably to Pierre, and adding, with the easy lying characteristic of society women, “We were saying your regiment was certain to be a finer one than Mamonov's.”
“Oh, don't talk to me about my regiment,” answered Pierre, kissing his hostess's hand, and sitting down beside her. “I am so heartily sick of it!”
“You will take the command of it yourself, of course?” said Julie with a sly and sarcastic look towards the volunteer.
The latter was by no means so ready to be caustic in Pierre's presence, and his countenance betokened perplexity as to what Julie's smile could signify. In spite of his absent-mindedness and good nature, Pierre's presence never failed to cut short any attempt at ridicule at his expense.
“No,” answered Pierre, laughing and looking at his huge, bulky figure; “I should make too good a target for the French, and indeed I'm afraid I could hardly scramble on to a horse's back.”
Among the people picked out as subjects for gossip, Julie's friends happened to pitch on the Rostovs. “Their pecuniary position is very serious, I am told,” said Julie. “And the count is so unreasonable. The Razumovskys wanted to buy his house and his estate in the environs, and the matter is still dragging on. He will ask too much.”
“No, I fancy purchase will be concluded in a few days,” said some one. “Though it's madness to buy anything in Moscow just now.”
“Why so?” said Julie. “Surely you don't suppose that Moscow is in any danger.”
“Why are you leaving it then?”
“I? That's a strange question. I am going because … well, because everybody's going, and I am not a Jeanne d'Arc nor an Amazon.”
“Oh, oh! Give me another strip of linen to scrape.”
“He ought to be able to pay off all his debts, if he sets about it properly,” the volunteer observed of Count Rostov.
“He's a good-hearted old fellow, but very foolish.”
“And why are they staying on here so long? They were meaning to leave for the country long ago. Natalie is quite well again now, I suppose?” Julie asked Pierre, with a sly smile.
“They are waiting for their younger son,” said Pierre. “He went into Obolensky's Cossacks, and was sent off to Byela Tserkov. The regiment is being formed there. But now they have transferred him to my regiment, and he is expected every day. The count wanted to get away long ago, but nothing would induce the countess to leave Moscow till her son's return.”
“I saw them the day before yesterday at the Arharovs'. Natalie has quite recovered her looks and her spirits. She sang a song. How easily some people get over everything!”
“Get over what?” Pierre asked, looking displeased.
Julie smiled.
“O count, you know, such chivalrous knights as you are only to be found in Madame Suza's novels.”
“Knights! What do you mean?” Pierre asked blushing.
“Come now, my dear count. C'est la fable de tout Moscou. Je vous admire, ma parole d'honneur.”
“Forfeit! forfeit!” said the volunteer.
“Oh, very well. One cannot talk, what a bore it is!”
“What is the talk of all Moscow?” said Pierre angrily, rising to his feet.
“Nonsense, count, you know!”
“I know nothing about it,” said Pierre.
“I know what great friends you have always been with Natalie, and so … But, I was always more friendly with Vera. That darling Vera.”
“No, madam,” Pierre persisted in a tone of annoyance. “I have by no means taken upon myself the r?le of Countess Rostov's knight; indeed, it's almost a month since I have been near them. But I cannot understand the cruelty …”
“Qui s'excuse s'accuse,” cried Julie, smiling, and waving the lint triumphantly, and that she might have the last word, she promptly changed the subject. “By the way, I have heard poor Marie Bolkonsky arrived in Moscow yesterday. Have you heard she has lost her father?”
“Really? Where is she? I should like to see her,” said Pierre.
“I spent the evening with her yesterday. She is going on to-day or to-morrow morning to their estate in the province with her nephew.”
“Well, how is she? Tell me,” said Pierre.
“Oh, she is well, but very sad. But do you know who rescued her? It is quite a romance. Nikolay Rostov. She was surrounded; they tried to kill her and wounded her servants. He rushed in and saved her.…”
“Another romance,” said the volunteer. “This general flight is evidently intended to marry off all the old maids. Katish is one, Princess Bolkonsky another.”
“You know, I really do believe she's un petit peu amoureuse du jeune bomme.”
“Forfeit! forfeit! forfeit!”
“But how is one to say that in Russian?”
国王离开莫斯科之后，莫斯科的生活仍旧回到以往的平淡之中，这样的生活是如此平凡，以致令人难以想起前些日子高涨的爱国热情，难以相信俄国的处境真的岌岌可危，难以相信英国俱乐部的会员就是不惜任何牺牲的祖国儿女，唯一能令人记起国王在莫斯科期间那种普遍的爱国热忱的事情，就是关于有人出人，有钱出钱的号召。这事儿一做起来，就附以法律和正式官方的文件，成为非做不可的了。
随着敌人逐渐的逼近，莫斯科人对自己处境的态度，正像那些眼见大祸临头的人们常有的情形一样，不但没有变得更严肃，反而更轻率了。在危险迫近时，人的灵魂里常有两种同样有力的声音：一种声音很理智地叫人考虑危险的性质和摆脱危险的办法，另一种声音更理智地说，既然预见一切和躲避事件的必然发展是人力所不能做到的，又何必自寻烦恼去考虑危险呢？最好在苦难未到之前不去想它，只想些愉快的事。一个人独处时，多半是听从第一种声音的，但在大众生活中就相反地听从第二种声音了。现在莫斯科居民正是这样。莫斯科很久以来都没有像这一年这样快乐了。
拉斯托普钦散发了一种传单，上面画着一家酒馆、一个酒保、一个莫斯科小市民卡尔普什卡·奇吉林（这个奇吉林曾当过后备兵，他多喝了几杯；听说波拿巴要攻打莫斯科，就火冒三丈，用脏话痛骂所有的法国佬。他走出酒馆，在鹰形招牌下面，对聚在那儿的民众讲起话来，），这张传单如同瓦西里·利沃维奇·普希金①的限韵诗被人们诵读与讨论。
在俱乐部拐角的一幢屋子里，人们聚在一起读传单，有些人喜欢卡尔普什卡对法国人的讥笑，他们说：法国佬被大白菜催肥了，被菜汤撑死了，肚子也被稀饭撑破了，他们全是一些小矮人，有个农妇用干草叉一下子叉起三个扔了出去。有些人不喜欢这种调子，说这未免太庸俗、太愚蠢了。他们说，拉斯托普钦把所有法国人甚至其他外国人都从莫斯科赶出去，他们之中有拿破仑的特务和间谍；不过，讲这些话的目的，主要是想趁机转述拉斯托普钦在遣返那批外国人时所说的俏皮话。用帆船把外国人解送到尼日尼时，拉斯托普钦对他们说：“Rentrez en vous－même，entrez dans la
①瓦西里·科沃维奇·普希金（1767～1830），俄国诗人，伟大诗人普希金的叔父。
barque et n'en faites pas une barque de Charon．”①人们讲起所有的机关都迁出了莫斯科时，立刻提起串串的玩笑，说是因为这一点莫斯科应当感谢拿破仑。人们谈到马莫诺夫要为他的兵团准备八十万卢布的花销，别祖霍夫为他的士兵破费得更多。但是，别祖霍夫最出色的表演是：他自己穿上军服，骑马走在团队的前面，对前来观看的人一律免费，不收一分钱。
“您对谁都不施恩。”朱莉·德鲁别茨卡娅说，她正用她那戴满戒指的纤细手指，把撕碎的棉线收在一起捏成团儿。
朱莉打算第二天离开莫斯科，现在举行告别晚会。
“别祖霍夫这个人est ridicule②，但是他是那么和善，那么可爱。caustique③算什么取乐啊？”
“罚款！”一个身穿后备军制服的年轻人说。朱莉称他为“mon chevalier”④，他将要陪伴朱莉去尼日尼。
①法语：回老家吧，请上船，当心别让它变成哈伦的船。（希腊神话中哈伦是渡亡魂去冥府的神。）
②法语：很可爱。
③法语：爱造谣中伤。
④法语：我的骑士。
在朱莉的社交团体里，也和莫斯科许多社交团体一样，规定只许说俄语，说法语要受罚，罚金交给捐献委员会。
“这是从法国借用的，要再罚一次。”客厅里一位俄国作家说，“‘算什么取乐'不是俄国话。”
“您谁也不宽恕，”朱莉不理睬作家的话，继续对那个后备军人说，“caustique，我说了法语，我认罚，”她说，“对您直说吧，因为‘算什么取乐'，这一句话，我准备再付一次款，但至于它是不是从法语借用的，我不能负责。”她对作家说，“我没有戈利岑公爵那样有钱有时间请教师，向他学俄语。啊，他来了，”朱莉说。“Quand on①……不，不，”她转身对那个后备军人说，“您不要尽抓我的错，说到太阳，就见到了阳光。”女主人对皮埃尔亲切地微笑着，说，“我们正说你呢，”
①法语：当着。
朱莉用她那上流社会妇女所特有的能把谎言说得自然流利的本领，说，“我们说您的兵团准比马莫诺夫的好。”
“唉呀，可别提我的兵团了，”皮埃尔边回答，边吻着女主人的手，在她身旁坐下。“兵团让我厌烦死了！”
“您大概要亲自指挥那个兵团吧？”朱莉说，她和那个后备军人互递了个狡黠的、嘲笑的眼神。
有皮埃尔在场，那个后备军人已经不那么caustique了，可是对朱莉微笑的涵意，他的脸上流露出莫名其妙的神情，皮埃尔虽然漫不经心，心地仁厚，可是任何想当着他的面嘲笑他的企图在他的人品面前都自动放弃了。
“不，”皮埃尔看了看自己肥胖、庞大的身体，笑着说，“我会成为法国人绝好的目标，再说，我怕我爬不上马去……”
朱莉在闲谈她的社交团体里的一些人时，提到了罗斯托夫之家。
“听说他们的家事很糟。”朱莉说，“他是那么糊涂——我是说伯爵这个人。拉祖莫夫斯基要买他的住房和莫斯科近郊的田庄，可是这件事老拖着。他索价太高了。”
“不，听说最近几天内即可成交，”一个客人说，“虽然眼下在莫斯科置办什么产业是极不明智的。”
“为什么？”朱莉说，“难道您认为莫斯科有危险吗？”
“那您为什么要走呢？”
“我？问的真奇怪。我走是因为……是因为大伙儿都走，还因为我不是贞德①，也不是亚马孙人。”
“对了，对了，再给我一些碎布。”
“如果他善于管理家务，他可以还清所有的债务。”那个后备军人继续谈罗斯托夫。
“倒是一个忠厚老头，就是太pauvre sire②。他们为什么在这儿住这么久？他们早就想回乡下了。娜塔莉现在似乎好了吧？”朱莉狡黠地笑着皮埃尔。
①贞德（约1412～1431），法国民族女英雄。
②法语：窝囊。
“他们在等小儿子呢，”皮埃尔说。“他加入了奥博连斯基的哥萨克部队，到白采尔科维去了。在那儿整编为团队。可现在他已经调到我的团队了，他们天天在盼着他，伯爵早就想走，可伯爵夫人在儿子没到之前，怎么也不肯离开莫斯科。”
“前天，我在阿尔哈罗夫家看见他们。娜塔莉又漂亮起来了，又活泼了。她唱了一支浪漫曲。有人那么轻易就把一切都忘掉了！”
“忘掉什么？”皮埃尔不高兴地问。朱莉微微一笑。
“伯爵，您可知道，像您这样的骑士，只有在苏扎夫人的小说中才找得到。”
“什么骑士？为什么？”皮埃尔涨红了脸问。
“亲爱的伯爵，得了，得了，c'est la fable de tout Moscou．Je vous admire，ma parole d'honneur．①”
“罚款！罚款！”那个后备军人说。
“好吧，好吧。不许说，真烦！”
“Qu'est ce qui est la fable de tout Moscou？②”皮埃尔站起来，生气地问。
“伯爵，得了，您知道！”
“我什么都不知道。”皮埃尔说。
“我知道您跟娜塔莉好，因此……不，我一向跟薇拉更好。
Cette chère Vèra！③”
“Non，madame，”④皮埃尔继续用不满的腔调说。“我根本没有担任罗斯托娃小姐的骑士这个角色。我差不多已经一个月没到他们那儿去了。但我不懂这种残忍……”
“Qui s'excuse——s'accuse．”⑤朱莉微笑着，挥动着棉线团说。为了不让对方辩解，随即改变了话题。“听我说，我知道什么来着！可怜的玛丽亚·博尔孔斯卡娅昨天到莫斯科了。你们听说了吗？她父亲去世了。”
①法语：全莫斯科都知道。真的，您真叫我惊讶。
②法语：全莫斯科都知道什么了？
③法语：这个可爱的薇拉。
④法语：不对，太太。
⑤法语：谁为自己辩护，谁就是揭发自己。
“真的呀！她在哪儿？我很想见到她。”皮埃尔说。
“昨晚我和她消磨了一个晚上。她就要和她侄儿一起到莫斯科近郊的田庄去，今天或者明儿一早。”
“她怎么样，还好吗？”皮埃尔问。
“还好，就是很忧愁。您可知道是谁救了她？这真是一个浪漫故事。是尼古拉·罗斯托夫。她被包围了，那些人要杀害她，伤了一些她的人。罗斯托夫冲进去把她救了出来……”
“又一个浪漫故事，”那个后备军人说。“一定是为全体老小姐都能出嫁，才来这次大逃难的。卡季什是一个，博尔孔斯卡娅又是一个。”
“您可知道，我真的相信，她un petit peu amoureuse du jeune homme．①”
①法语：有点爱上那个年轻人了。
“罚！罚！罚！”
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