As is generally the case, Pierre only felt the full strain of the physical hardships and privations he had suffered as a prisoner, when they were over. After he had been rescued, he went to Orel, and two days after getting there, as he was preparing to start for Kiev, he fell ill and spent three months laid up at Orel. He was suffering, so the doctors said, from a bilious1 fever. Although they treated him by letting blood and giving him drugs, he recovered.
Everything that had happened to Pierre from the time of his rescue up to his illness had left hardly any impression on his mind. He had only a memory of dark grey weather, sometimes rainy and sometimes sunshiny, of internal physical aches, of pain in his feet and his side. He remembered a general impression of the misery2 and suffering of men, remembered the worrying curiosity of officers and generals, who questioned him about his imprisonment3, the trouble he had to get horses and a conveyance4; and more than all he remembered his own dullness of thought and of feeling all that time.
On the day of his rescue he saw the dead body of Petya Rostov. The same day he learned that Prince Andrey had lived for more than a month after the battle of Borodino, and had only a short time before died at Yaroslavl in the Rostovs' house. The same day Denisov, who had told Pierre this piece of news, happened to allude5 in conversation to the death of Ellen, supposing Pierre to have been long aware of it. All this had at the time seemed to Pierre only strange. He felt that he could not take in all the bearings of these facts. He was at the time simply in haste to get away from these places where men were slaughtering6 each other to some quiet refuge where he might rest and recover his faculties7, and think over all the new strange things he had learned.
But as soon as he reached Orel, he fell ill. On coming to himself after his illness, Pierre saw waiting on him two of his servants, Terenty and Vaska, who had come from Moscow, and the eldest8 of his cousins, who was staying at Pierre's estate in Elets, and hearing of his rescue and his illness had come to nurse him.
During his convalescence9 Pierre could only gradually recover from the impressions of the last few months, which had become habitual10. Only by degrees could he become accustomed to the idea that there was no one to drive him on to-morrow, that no one would take his warm bed from him, and that he was quite sure of getting his dinner, and tea, and supper. But for a long while afterwards he was always in his dreams surrounded by his conditions as a prisoner.
And only in the same gradual way did Pierre grasp the meaning of the news he had heard since his escape: of the death of Prince Andrey, of the death of his wife, and of the overthrow11 of the French.
The joyful12 sense of freedom—that full, inalienable freedom inherent in man, of which he had first had a consciousness at the first halting-place outside Moscow—filled Pierre's soul during his convalescence. He was surprised that this inner freedom, independent as it was of all external circumstances, was now as it were decked out in a luxury, a superfluity of external freedom. He was alone in a strange town without acquaintances. No one made any demands on him; no one sent him anywhere. He had all he wanted; the thought of his wife, that had in old days been a continual torture to him, was no more, since she herself was no more.
“Ah, how happy I am! how splendid it is!” he said to himself, when a cleanly covered table was moved up to him, with savoury-smelling broth13, or when he got into his soft, clean bed at night, or when the thought struck him that his wife and the French were no more. “Ah, how good it is! how splendid!” And from old habit he asked himself the question, “Well, and what then? what am I going to do?” And at once he answered himself: “I am going to live. Ah, how splendid it is!”
What had worried him in old days, what he had always been seeking to solve, the question of the object of life, did not exist for him now. That seeking for an object in life was over for him now; and it was not fortuitously or temporarily that it was over. He felt that there was no such object, and could not be. And it was just the absence of an object that gave him that complete and joyful sense of freedom that at this time made his happiness.
He could seek no object in life now, because now he had faith—not faith in any sort of principles, or words, or ideas, but faith in a living, ever-palpable God. In old days he had sought Him in the aims he set before himself. That search for an object in life had been only a seeking after God; and all at once in his captivity14 he had come to know, not through words or arguments, but by his own immediate15 feeling, what his old nurse had told him long before; that God is here, and everywhere. In his captivity he had come to see that the God in Karataev was grander, more infinite, and more unfathomable than the Architect of the Universe recognised by the masons. He felt like a man who finds what he has sought at his feet, when he has been straining his eyes to seek it in the distance. All his life he had been looking far away over the heads of all around him, while he need not have strained his eyes, but had only to look in front of him.
In old days he had been unable to see the great, the unfathomable, and the infinite in anything. He had only felt that it must be somewhere, and had been seeking it. In everything near and comprehensible, he had seen only what was limited, petty, everyday, and meaningless. He had armed himself with the telescope of intellect, and gazed far away into the distance, where that petty, everyday world, hidden in the mists of distance, had seemed to him great and infinite, simply because it was not clearly seen. Such had been European life, politics, freemasonry, philosophy, and philanthropy in his eyes. But even then, in moments which he had looked on as times of weakness, his thought had penetrated16 even to these remote objects, and then he had seen in them the same pettiness, the same ordinariness and meaninglessness.
Now he had learnt to see the great, the eternal, and the infinite in everything; and naturally therefore, in order to see it, to revel17 in its contemplation, he flung aside the telescope through which he had hitherto been gazing over men's heads, and looked joyfully18 at the ever-changing, ever grand, unfathomable, and infinite life around him. And the closer he looked at it, the calmer and happier he was. The terrible question that had shattered all his intellectual edifices19 in old days, the question: What for? had no existence for him now. To that question, What for? he had now always ready in his soul the simple answer: Because there is a God, that God without whom not one hair of a man's head falls.
皮埃尔和大多数人一样，在他作俘虏时，身体饱受痛苦和紧张，只有当这种痛苦和紧张过去之后，才尤其觉得是那样沉重。在从俘虏营中被释放出来之后，他来到奥廖尔，第三天他打算去基辅，可是生了病，在奥廖尔躺了三个月；据医生说，他的病是胆热引起的，他凭医生给他治疗、放血、服药，他终于恢复了健康。
皮埃尔自从获救一直到生病，在此期间所经历的一切事情，差不多没有一点印象，他依稀记得灰色的、阴沉的、时而下雨、时而下雪的天气，内心的苦恼，腿部和腰部的疼痛；对于人民的不幸和痛苦还有一个大概的印象；他还记得军官和将军们审问他时的好奇心使他十分忧虑，他为寻找马车和马匹而东奔西走，主要是，他还记得在当时他已经没有思索和感觉的能力了。他在获救的那一天看见了彼佳·罗斯托夫的尸体。也就在那一天，他获悉安德烈公爵在波罗底诺战役后只活了一个多月，不久前在雅罗斯拉夫尔的罗斯托夫家中去世。也就在那一天，杰尼索夫把这一消息告诉了皮埃尔，他们在谈话中又提到海伦的死，他以为皮埃尔早就知道了。这一切，当时皮埃尔只觉得奇怪。他感到，他无法了解所有这一切消息的意义。他在当时只急于要快一点离开这些人们互相残杀的地方，去到一个安静的避难所，在那儿使自己的心情平静下来，休息一下，思索一下在这段时间里他所知道的所有的一切新奇的事情。但是，他刚一抵达奥廖尔，就生病了。皮埃尔病中清醒过来时，他看见他跟前有两个从莫斯科来的仆人——捷连季和瓦西卡，还有大公爵小姐，她一向居住在叶利茨的皮埃尔庄园。听说皮埃尔获救并且生了病，特地前来照顾他的。
皮埃尔在健康恢复期间，才逐渐地摆脱掉他在过去几个月中已经习惯了的印象，又重新习惯于：明天再没有任何人强迫他到什么地方去，没有人会夺走他那张温暖的床铺，他一定能够得到午餐、茶和晚餐。但是，有一段很长时间，他在睡梦中看见自己在俘虏营中的生活。皮埃尔也逐渐地明白了他从俘虏营中出来之后所听到的那些消息：安德烈公爵去世，妻子的死，以及法国人的溃败。
一种快乐的自由感觉——他在离开莫斯科之后的第一个宿营地第一次尝受到那种为一个人生来就有的、完全的、不可被剥夺的自由感觉，在皮埃尔整个恢复健康期间充满了他的灵魂。使他感到惊夺的是，这种不受外界环境影响的内心自由，而现在仿佛外界的自由也已经过多地、慷慨地出现在他的周围。他独自一人住在一个完全陌生的城市里，一个人也不认识。没有任何一个人向他提出任何一点要求；也没有任何一个人派他到任何一个地方去。他所想要的东西都有了；从前对于亡妻的思虑一直折磨着他，现在没有了，因为她已经不在人世了。
“啊，多么好啊！多么妙啊！”当人们把一张摆上芳香扑鼻的清炖肉汤的桌子安放在他面前的时候，或者当他在夜晚躺在柔软、清洁的床上的时候，或者当他回想起他的妻子和法国人都已经没有了的时候，他就自言自语地说：“啊，多么好啊，多么美妙啊！”
于是，他按照老习惯，向自己提出了这样一个问题：“那么往后又怎么样呢？我又怎么办呢？”他立刻自己回答了自己，“没有关系，我要活下去。啊，多么美妙啊！”
先前一直使他苦恼的，他经常寻代的东西——人生的目的，现在对于他来说，已经不复存在了。这个被寻找的人生的目的，在他并非现在才偶然地不存在的，也并非在此时此刻陡然间消失的。但是，他觉得这个人生的目的现在没有，将来也不可能有。正是因为这个目的的不存在，才给了他完全的、可喜的、自由的感觉，在这个时候他的这种自由的感觉就是他的幸福。
他不能有目的，因为他现在有了信仰，——不是信仰某种规章制度，或者是某种言论，或者是某种思想，而是信仰一个活生生的可以感知到的上帝。他在以前是抱着他给自己提出来的一些目的去寻求它的。这种有目的的寻求只不过是去寻求上帝罢了；可是，他在被俘期间突然认识到，既不是靠语言，也不是靠推理，而是靠直观感觉认识到了保姆老早就已经给他讲过的那个道理：上帝就在你的眼前，就在这里，它无所不在。他在当俘虏时认识到，在卡拉塔耶夫心目中的上帝比共济会会员们所承认的造物主更伟大、更无限、更高深莫测。他觉得像一个人极目远眺，结果却在自己的脚跟前面找到了他所要寻找的东西，他觉得他就是这样的人。他一生都在迈过周围人们的头顶向远方望过去，其实用不着睁大眼睛向远方望过去，只要看看自己跟前就行了。
他先前无论怎样都没有本领看到那个伟大的、不可思议的、无限的东西。他仅仅感觉到，他应当存在于某一个地点，于是他便去寻找它，在一切靠近的、可以理解的东西中，他只看见有限的、渺小的、世俗的、没有意义的东西。他曾经用一具幻想的望远镜装备自己，并用它去瞭望遥远的空间，他觉得隐藏在远方云雾中的渺小的，世俗的东西之所以显得伟大和无限，只不过是由于看不真切罢了。他过去就曾觉得欧洲的生活、政治、共济会、哲学、慈善事业，就是这样的。但是，就是在他认为自己软弱的那一段短暂的时刻里，他的智慧也曾深入到那个远方，他在那里看见的仍然是渺小的、世俗的、没有意义的东西。而现在他已经学会在一切东西中看见伟大的、永恒的和无限的了，因此，为了看见它，为了享受一下这种观察，他自然而然地抛弃那具他一直用来从人们头顶上看东西的望远镜。欢欢喜喜地看他周围那永远变化着的、永远伟大的、不可思议的、无限的人生。他看得越近，他就变得越平和，越快活。原先曾毁掉他的全部精神支柱的那个可怕的问题：“为什么？”现在对于他已经不存在了。现在对“为什么？”这个问题，在他心中常常准备了一个简单的答案：“为什么？若是你们的父不许，一个也不能掉在地上，就是你们的头发，也都被数过了。”①
①见《圣经·新约·马太福音》第十章第三十节。
收听单词发音 |
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bilious
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| adj.胆汁过多的；易怒的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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slaughtering
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的现在分词 ) | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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convalescence
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| n.病后康复期 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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overthrow
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| v.推翻，打倒，颠覆；n.推翻，瓦解，颠覆 | |
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joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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edifices
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| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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