WHEN ANNA MIHALOVNA had driven off with her son to Count Kirill Vladimirovitch Bezuhov's, Countess Rostov sat a long while alone, putting her handkerchief to her eyes. At last she rang the bell.
“What does it mean?” she said angrily to the maid, who had kept her waiting a few minutes; “don't you care for my service, eh? I'll find you another place, if so.”
The countess was distressed1 at the troubles and degrading poverty of her friend, and so out of humour, which always found expression in such remarks to her servants.
“I'm very sorry,” said the maid.
“Ask the count to come to me.”
The count came waddling2 in to see his wife, looking, as usual, rather guilty.
“Well, little countess! What a sauté of woodcocks and Madeira we're to have, ma chère! I've tried it; I did well to give a thousand roubles for Taras. He's worth it!”
He sat down by his wife, setting his elbow jauntily3 on his knee, and ruffling4 up his grey hair. “What are your commands, little countess?”
“It's this, my dear—why, what is this mess on you here?” she said, pointing to his waistcoat. “It's the sauté, most likely,” she added, smiling. “It's this, my dear, I want some money.” Her face became gloomy.
“Ah, little countess! …” And the count fidgeted about, pulling out his pocket-book.
“I want a great deal, count. I want five hundred roubles.” And taking out her cambric handkerchief she wiped her husband's waistcoat.
“This minute, this minute. Hey, who's there?” he shouted, as men only shout who are certain that those they call will run headlong at their summons. “Send Mitenka to me!”
Mitenka, the young man of noble family who had been brought up in the count's house, and now had charge of all his money affairs, walked softly into the room.
“Here, my dear boy,” said the count to the young man, who came up respectfully. “Bring me,” he thought a moment, “yes, seven hundred roubles, yes. And mind, don't bring me such torn and dirty notes as last time; nice ones now, for the countess.”
“Yes, Mitenka, clean ones, please,” said the countess with a depressed5 sigh.
“Your excellency, when do you desire me to get the money?” said Mitenka. “Your honour ought to know … But don't trouble,” he added, noticing that the count was beginning to breathe rapidly and heavily, which was always the sign of approaching anger. “I was forgetting … This minute do you desire me to bring them?”
“Yes, yes, just so, bring them. Give them to the countess. What a treasure that Mitenka is,” added the count, smiling, when the young man had gone out. “He doesn't know the meaning of impossible. That's a thing I can't bear. Everything's possible.”
“Ah, money, count, money, what a lot of sorrow it causes in the world!” said the countess. “This money I am in great need of.”
“You are a terrible spendthrift, little countess, we all know,” said the count, and kissing his wife's hand he went away again to his own room.
When Anna Mihalovna came back from the Bezuhovs', the money was already on the countess's little table, all in new notes, under her pocket-handkerchief. Anna Mihalovna noticed that the countess was fluttered about something.
“Well, my dear?” queried6 the countess.
“Ah, he is in a terrible condition! One would not recognise him, he is so ill, so ill; I was there only a minute, and did not say two words.”
“Annette, for God's sake don't refuse me,” the countess said suddenly with a blush, which was strangely incongruous with her elderly, thin, and dignified7 face, taking the money from under her handkerchief. Anna Mihalovna instantly grasped the situation, and was already bending over to embrace the countess at the appropriate moment.
“This is for Boris, from me, for his equipment …”
Anna Mihalovna was already embracing her and weeping. The countess wept too. They wept because they were friends, and because they were soft-hearted, and that they, who had been friends in youth, should have to think of anything so base as money, and that their youth was over.… But the tears of both were sweet to them.…
当安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜偕同儿子乘车去基里尔·弗拉基米罗维奇·别祖霍夫伯爵家时，叫做罗斯托娃的伯爵夫人用手巾捂着自己的眼睛，她独自端坐良久，而后按了一下铃。
“亲爱的，您怎么啦，”伯爵夫人对强迫自己等候片刻的婢女气忿地说道，“您不愿意服务，是不是？那我就替您另找活儿做。”
伯爵夫人的女友极为痛苦，一贫如洗，忍屈受辱，伯爵夫人感到伤心，因此情绪不佳，每逢这种情形，她总是借用“亲爱的”和“您”称呼婢女，以示心境。
“我有过错，夫人。”婢女说道。
“请伯爵到我这里来。”
伯爵踉踉跄跄地向妻子跟前走来，像平时一样，脸上露出一点愧悔的样子。
“啊，伯爵夫人！sautéaumadère①炒花尾榛鸡，非常可口，machene！我尝了一下。买塔拉斯卡没有白花一千卢布，值得！”
①法语：调味汁加马德拉葡萄酒。
他坐在妻子身旁，豪放地把胳膊肘撑在膝盖上，斑白的头发给弄得蓬乱。
“我的伯爵夫人，有什么吩咐？”
“我的亲人，原来是这么回事，你这里怎么弄脏了？”她用手指着他的西装背心说道，“这是调味汁，说真的，”她面露微笑，补充了一句，“听我说，伯爵，我要钱用。”
她的脸上露出愁容。
“啊，我的伯爵夫人！……”伯爵忙乱起来了，取出钱夹子。
“伯爵，我要很多钱，我需要五百卢布。”她掏出细亚麻手绢，揩丈夫的西装背心。
“马上，马上。喂，谁在那里呀？”他吼道，只有在他深信被呼唤的人会迅速应声而来的情况下，才用这样的嗓门呼喊，“喊米坚卡到我这儿来！”
米坚卡是在伯爵家受过教育的贵族的儿子，现在主管伯爵家里的事务，这时他脚步轻盈地走进房里来。
“亲爱的，听着，”伯爵对那走进来的恭恭敬敬的年轻人说道，“你把……给我拿来，”他沉思起来，“对，七百卢布，对。你要小心，像上次那样破破烂烂的肮肮脏脏的不要拿来，给伯爵夫人拿些好的纸币来。”
“米坚卡，对，请你拿干净的纸币，”伯爵夫人忧郁地呼气，说道。
“大人，您吩咐什么时候拿来？”米坚卡说道，“您知道，是这么回事……但是请您放心，”他发现伯爵开始急促地、困难地呼吸，向来这是他开始发怒的征候，于是补充了一句，“我几乎置之脑后了……您吩咐我马上送来吗？”
“对，对，就是这样，送来吧。要交给伯爵夫人。”
“这个米坚卡是我的金不换，”当年轻人走出门去，伯爵微笑着，补充一句话，“没有什么‘行不通'的事。‘行不通'这样的说法我可忍受不了啊。什么事都行得通。”
“唉，伯爵，重钱，贪钱。金钱引起了人世间的多少悲伤！”
伯爵夫人说道，“我可很需要这笔钱。”
“我的伯爵夫人，您是个出了名的爱挥霍的女人。”伯爵说道，吻吻妻子的手，又走回书斋去了。
当安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜离开别祖霍夫又回到家里时，那笔钱用手绢盖着，搁在伯爵夫人身边的茶几上，全是崭新的钞票。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜发现，伯爵夫人不知为何事扫兴起来。
“喂，我的朋友，怎么样了？”伯爵夫人问道。
“唉，他的病势十分恶劣！真没法认出他是谁了，他的病情太严重，太严重。我呆了一下子，竟没有说出两句话……”
“安内特，看在上帝份上，不要拒绝我吧，”伯爵夫人忽然说，面红耳赤，这在她那瘦削、庄重、中年人的面孔上显得十分古怪。这时候，她从手帕下面掏出钱来。
安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜霎时明白了是怎么回事，于是弯下腰去，好在适当的瞬间巧妙地拥抱伯爵夫人。
“这是我给鲍里斯缝制军装的钱……”
安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜一面拥抱她，一面哭泣起来。伯爵夫人也哭起来了。她们之所以哭泣，是因为她们和睦相处，她们待人都很仁慈，她们是青春时代的朋友，她们现在关心的竟是卑鄙的东西——金钱；她们之所以哭泣，还因为她们的青春已经逝去了……可是从这两人的眼里流下的倒是愉快的眼泪……
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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waddling
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的现在分词 ) | |
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jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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ruffling
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| 弄皱( ruffle的现在分词 )； 弄乱； 激怒； 扰乱 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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