THE 5TH of November was the first day of the so-called battle of Krasnoe.
Many had been the blunders and disputes among the generals, who had not reached their proper places, many the contradictory1 orders carried to them by adjutants, but towards evening it was clear that the enemy were everywhere in flight, and that there would not and could not be a battle. In the evening Kutuzov set out from Krasnoe towards Dobroe, to which place the headquarters had that day been removed.
It had been a clear, frosty day. Kutuzov, mounted on his fat, white little horse, was riding towards Dobroe, followed by an immense suite2 of generals, whispering their dissatisfaction behind his back. Seven thousand French prisoners had been taken that day, and all along the road they met parties of them, crowding to warm themselves round the camp-fires. Not far from Dobroe they heard a loud hum of talk from an immense crowd of tattered3 prisoners, bandaged and wrapped up in rags of all sorts, standing5 in the road near a long row of unharnessed French cannons6. At the approach of the commander-in-chief the buzz of talk died away, and all eyes were fixed7 upon Kutuzov, who moved slowly along the road, wearing a white cap with a red band, and a wadded overcoat, that set in a hunch8 on his round shoulders. One of the generals began explaining to Kutuzov where the prisoners and the guns had been taken.
Kutuzov seemed absorbed in anxious thought, and did not hear the general's words. He screwed up his eyes with an air of displeasure, and gazed intently at the figures of the prisoners, who presented a particularly pitiable appearance. The majority of the French soldiers were disfigured by frost-bitten cheeks and noses, and almost all of them had red, swollen9, and streaming eyes.
One group of Frenchmen was standing close by the road, and two soldiers, one with his face covered with sores, were tearing at a piece of raw meat with their hands. There was something bestial10 and horrible in the cursory11 glance they cast on the approaching generals, and the frenzied12 expression with which the soldier with the sore face, after a glance at Kutuzov, turned away and went on with what he was doing.
Kutuzov looked a long while intently at these two soldiers; frowning more than before, he half-closed his eyelids13, and shook his head thoughtfully. Further on, he noticed a Russian soldier, who was saying something friendly to a French prisoner, laughing and clapping him on the shoulder. Kutuzov shook his head again with the same expression.
“What do you say?” he asked the general, who was trying to draw the commander-in-chief's attention to the French flags, that were set up in front of the Preobrazhensky regiment14.
“Ah, the flags!” said Kutuzov, rousing himself with evident difficulty from the subject absorbing his thoughts. He looked about him absently. Thousands of eyes were gazing at him from all sides, waiting for his words.
He came to a standstill before the Preobrazhensky regiment, sighed heavily and closed his eyes. One of the suite beckoned15 to the soldiers holding the flags to come up and set up the flagstaffs around the commander-in-chief. Kutuzov was silent for a few seconds. Then with obvious reluctance16, yielding to the obligations of his position, he raised his head and began to speak. Crowds of officers gathered round him. He scanned the circle of officers with an attentive17 eye, recognising some of them.
“I thank you all!” he said, addressing the soldiers, and then again turning to the officers. In the deep stillness that prevailed all round him, his slowly articulated words were distinctly audible: “I thank you all for your hard and faithful service. The victory is complete, and Russia will not forget you. Your glory will be for ever!” He paused, looking about him.
“Lower; bow his head lower,” he said to the soldier, who was holding the French eagle, and had accidentally lowered it before the Preobrazhensky standard.
“Lower, lower, that's it. Hurrah18, lads!” he said, his chin moving quickly as he turned to the soldiers.
“Hurrah-rah-rah!” thousands of voices roared.
While the soldiers were shouting, Kutuzov, bending forward in his saddle, bowed his head, and his eyes gleamed with a mild and, as it were, ironical19 light.
“And now, brothers …” he said, when the shouts had died away.
And all at once his face and expression changed: it was not the commander-in-chief speaking now, but a simple, aged4 man, who plainly wanted to say something most important now to his comrades.
“And now, brothers. I know it's hard for you, but there's no help for it! Have a little patience; it won't last much longer. We will see our visitors off, and then we will rest. The Tsar won't forget your services. It's hard for you, but still you are at home; while they—you see what they have come to,” he said, pointing to the prisoners. “Worse than the lowest beggars. While they were strong, we did not spare ourselves, but now we can even spare them. They too are men. Eh, lads?”
He looked about him. And in the unflinching, respectfully wondering eyes staring persistently20 at him, he read sympathy with his words. His face grew brighter and brighter with the gentle smile of old age, that brought clusters of wrinkles at the corners of his mouth and his eyes. He paused and dropped his head, as though in doubt.
“But after all is said and done, who asked them to come here? It serves them right, the b— b—” he said suddenly, lifting his head. And swinging his riding-whip, he rode off at a gallop21, accompanied for the first time during the whole campaign by gleeful guffaws22 and roars of hurrah from the men as they moved out of rank.
The words uttered by Kutuzov were hardly understood by the soldiers. No one could have repeated the field-marshal's speech at first of such solemnity, and towards the end of such homely23 simplicity24. But the meaning at the bottom of his words, they understood very well, and the same feeling of solemn triumph in their victory, together with pity for the enemy and the sense of the justice of their cause—expressed, too, with precisely25 the same homely coarseness—lay at the bottom of every soldier's heart, and found a vent26 in delighted shouts, that did not cease for a long while. When one of the generals addressed the commander-in-chief after this, asking whether he desired his carriage, Kutuzov broke into a sudden sob27 in replying. He was evidently deeply moved.
十一月五日是所谓的克拉斯诺耶战役的第一天。黄昏时分，在多次争吵和将军们没有准时率部到达指定地点的错误之后；在派出一批带着互相矛盾的命令的副官们之后，一切情况都已经十分清楚了，敌人已经四散奔逃，不可能有也不会再有战斗，于是库图佐夫离开了克拉斯诺耶前往多布罗耶，总司令部已在当天迁移到了那里。
晴空万里，严寒。库图佐夫骑着自己的膘肥体壮的小白马，带领一大群对他不满意，一路上窃窃私语的随从人员前往多布罗耶。一路上随处都可以见到一群一群聚拢在火堆旁边烤火的在当天俘获的法国人（在这一天俘虏了他们七千人）。在离多布罗耶不太远的地方，一大群衣衫褴褛的、用顺手捡来的破烂裹着身子的俘虏们，站在摆在路上的一长列卸下来的大炮旁边嘁嘁喳喳谈着话。当总司令走过来的时候，谈话声停了下来。所有的眼睛都盯住库图佐夫，他头戴一顶有一道红箍的白帽子、身穿从他那驼背上鼓凸起来的棉大衣，骑着小白马沿大路缓缓走来：一位将军正在向他报告那些大炮和俘虏是从什么地方俘获的。
看起来，好像是有一件什么事情使库图佐夫悬挂着，因而那位将军的报告他一句也没有听见。他不悦地眯着眼睛，专注地凝视那些法军俘虏，这些俘虏的样子特别可怜。大多数法国士兵的脸部成为畸形，鼻子和两颊都冻伤了，差不多所有的人的眼睛都红肿、糜烂。
靠近路边站着一堆法国人。有两个士兵（其中的一个脸上长满了疮）正在用手撕吃一块生肉。在他们盯着过往的人的目光中，隐露着某种可怕的兽性的东西，那个满脸生疮的士兵恶狠狠地向库图佐夫盯了一眼，立即转过身体，继续做自己的事。
库图佐夫久久地凝视着这两个士兵，他更加皱紧了眉头，眯着眼睛，若有所思地摇了摇头。在另外一个地方他看见一个俄国士兵笑着拍一个法国人的肩膀，很和气地和他说着话，库图佐夫又一次以同样的神情摇了摇头。
“你说什么？”他问那位将军，将军一面继续报告，同时请总司令注意在普列奥布拉任斯基团的前线所缴获的法军军旗。
“啊，军旗！”库图佐夫说，他显然，他吃力地从沉思中回到了现实中来。他心不在焉地环顾四周，数千双眼睛从四面八方望着他，期待他讲话。
他在普列奥布拉任斯基团队前面停了下来，深深地吸了一口气，然后闭上了眼睛。他的一个随从人员向拿着法国军旗的士兵们招了招手，叫他们走过来把这些军旗摆放在总司令的周围。库图佐夫沉默了好几分钟，看起来他极不乐意，然而他又不得不服从由于他所处的地位所要求他必须要去做的事情，于是他抬起了头，开始讲话了。一大群军官围住了他。他以专注的目光环视了一圈周围的军官，还认出了其中几个人。
“感激大家！”他转身朝着士兵们，紧接着又转身朝着军官们，说。笼罩在他周围的是一片寂静，可以十分清晰地听见他那缓慢地说出来的话。“为了艰苦，为了忠诚的服务，感激你们大家。我们完全胜利了，俄罗斯不会忘记你们，光荣永远属于你们！”他稍稍停顿了片刻，环顾一下四周。
“把旗杆头放低点，放低点，”他对一个在无意之中把他手里拿着的法国鹰旗在普列奥布拉任斯基团队的军旗前面压低下去的士兵说。“再把它压低一点，再压低一点，好了，就这样。乌拉！弟兄们！”他的下巴朝着士兵们迅速地摆动着，说。
“乌拉——拉——拉！”响起了数千人的欢呼声。
在士兵们正在欢呼雀跃的时候，库图佐夫在坐骑上俯下身子，低下了头，他的眼睛里闪烁出一种温情的、又仿佛是一种讥讽的亮光来。
“是这样的，弟兄们，”当欢呼声一停下来时，他说……
突然之间，他脸上的表情和他的声音都变了：已经不再是一个总司令在讲话，而是一个普普通通的老人在讲话，很明显，他现在想对伙伴们说几句他想说的话。
在军官们中间和在士兵的队列中开始向前蠕动起来，以便能够更加清楚地听见他现在说的话。
“是这样的，弟兄们。我知道你们很艰苦，但是这有什么办法呢？要忍耐，不会久了。让我们把客人送走，那个时候就可以休息了。对你们的功绩，沙皇是不会忘记你们的。你们是艰苦，但是你们毕竟是在自己的国家里面；可是他们，你们看一下他们已经落到何等地步，”他指着俘虏们说道，“比最糟糕的叫化子还不如。当他们强大的时候，我们不可怜他们，可是现在可以可怜可怜他们了。他们也同样是人嘛。对不对，弟兄们？”
他环顾四周，从盯住他的那些倔强的、报其崇敬的、又是困惑不解的目光中，他看得出来都同情他所讲的话：他的眼角和嘴角皱起来，显露出一个普通的老年人的微笑，他愈来愈容光焕发，神采奕奕，他稍稍停顿了一下，似乎犹豫不决地低下头。
“不过，把话又说回来，到底是谁叫他们到我们这儿来的？活该，这些畜……畜……！他突然抬起头说。他把鞭子一挥，策马疾驰而去，这是他在整个战争期间第一次策马疾驰，他离开了已经乱了队列，高兴得纵声大笑、高喊着“乌拉”的士兵们。
部队未必能听懂库图佐夫所讲的话。谁也不能重述出元帅开头庄严、结尾朴实、就像一般的慈祥老人所说的话；然而，老人的由衷之言不仅已经被理解，而且正是在老人善良的咒骂中表现出对敌人的怜悯和对我们事业的正义性的认识的伟大庄严的感情，这种感情也深藏在每一个士兵心中，他们以兴高采烈、经久不息的欢呼声表达出来了。在此之后，有一个将军向总司令请示，是否要把他的车叫来，库图佐夫在回答时，出人意外地呜咽起来，显然他十分激动。
收听单词发音 |
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contradictory
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| adj.反驳的，反对的，抗辩的；n.正反对，矛盾对立 | |
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suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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cannons
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| n.加农炮，大炮，火炮( cannon的名词复数 ) | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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bestial
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| adj.残忍的；野蛮的 | |
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cursory
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| adj.粗略的；草率的；匆促的 | |
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frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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guffaws
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| n.大笑，狂笑( guffaw的名词复数 )v.大笑，狂笑( guffaw的第三人称单数 ) | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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