第 11 节
作者:人生几何      更新:2022-11-23 12:11      字数:9322
  reasons to rejoice or grieve over that occurrence independently of the
  others。
  For instance; Pierre's return was a joyful and important event and
  they all felt it to be so。
  The servants… the most reliable judges of their masters because they
  judge not by their conversation or expressions of feeling but by their
  acts and way of life… were glad of Pierre's return because they knew
  that when he was there Count Nicholas would cease going every day
  attend to the estate; and would would be in better spirits and temper;
  and also because they would all receive handsome presents for the
  holidays。
  The children and their governesses were glad of Pierre's return
  because no one else drew them into the social life of the household as
  he did。 He alone could play on the clavichord that ecossaise (his only
  piece) to which; as he said; all possible dances could be danced;
  and they felt sure he had brought presents for them all。
  Young Nicholas; now a slim lad of fifteen; delicate and intelligent;
  with curly light…brown hair and beautiful eyes; was delighted
  because Uncle Pierre as he called him was the object of his
  rapturous and passionate affection。 No one had instilled into him this
  love for Pierre whom he saw only occasionally。 Countess Mary who had
  brought him up had done her utmost to make him love her husband as she
  loved him; and little Nicholas did love his uncle; but loved him
  with just a shade of contempt。 Pierre; however; he adored。 He did
  not want to be an hussar or a Knight of St。 George like his uncle
  Nicholas; he wanted to be learned; wise; and kind like Pierre。 In
  Pierre's presence his face always shone with pleasure and he flushed
  and was breathless when Pierre spoke to him。 He did not miss a
  single word he uttered; and would afterwards; with Dessalles or by
  himself; recall and reconsider the meaning of everything Pierre had
  said。 Pierre's past life and his unhappiness prior to 1812 (of which
  young Nicholas had formed a vague poetic picture from some words he
  had overheard); his adventures in Moscow; his captivity; Platon
  Karataev (of whom he had heard from Pierre); his love for Natasha
  (of whom the lad was also particularly fond); and especially
  Pierre's friendship with the father whom Nicholas could not
  remember… all this made Pierre in his eyes a hero and a saint。
  From broken remarks about Natasha and his father; from the emotion
  with which Pierre spoke of that dead father; and from the careful;
  reverent tenderness with which Natasha spoke of him; the boy; who
  was only just beginning to guess what love is; derived the notion that
  his father had loved Natasha and when dying had left her to his
  friend。 But the father whom the boy did not remember appeared to him a
  divinity who could not be pictured; and of whom he never thought
  without a swelling heart and tears of sadness and rapture。 So the
  boy also was happy that Pierre had arrived。
  The guests welcomed Pierre because he always helped to enliven and
  unite any company he was in。
  The grown…up members of the family; not to mention his wife; were
  pleased to have back a friend whose presence made life run more
  smoothly and peacefully。
  The old ladies were pleased with the presents he brought them; and
  especially that Natasha would now be herself again。
  Pierre felt the different outlooks of these various worlds and
  made haste to satisfy all their expectations。
  Though the most absent…minded and forgetful of men; Pierre; with the
  aid of a list his wife drew up; had now bought everything; not
  forgetting his mother… and brother…in…law's commissions; nor the dress
  material for a present to Belova; nor toys for his wife's nephews。
  In the early days of his marriage it had seemed strange to him that
  his wife should expect him not to forget to procure all the things
  he undertook to buy; and he had been taken aback by her serious
  annoyance when on his first trip he forgot everything。 But in time
  he grew used to this demand。 Knowing that Natasha asked nothing for
  herself; and gave him commissions for others only when he himself
  had offered to undertake them; he now found an unexpected and
  childlike pleasure in this purchase of presents for everyone in the
  house; and never forgot anything。 If he now incurred Natasha's censure
  it was only for buying too many and too expensive things。 To her other
  defects (as most people thought them; but which to Pierre were
  qualities) of untidiness and neglect of herself; she now added
  stinginess。
  From the time that Pierre began life as a family man on a footing
  entailing heavy expenditure; he had noticed to his surprise that he
  spent only half as much as before; and that his affairs… which had
  been in disorder of late; chiefly because of his first wife's debts…
  had begun to improve。
  Life was cheaper because it was circumscribed: that most expensive
  luxury; the kind of life that can be changed at any moment; was no
  longer his nor did he wish for it。 He felt that his way of life had
  now been settled once for all till death and that to change it was not
  in his power; and so that way of life proved economical。
  With a merry; smiling face Pierre was sorting his purchases。
  〃What do you think of this?〃 said he; unrolling a piece of stuff
  like a shopman。
  Natasha; who was sitting opposite to him with her eldest daughter on
  her lap; turned her sparkling eyes swiftly from her husband to the
  things he showed her。
  〃That's for Belova? Excellent!〃 She felt the quality of the
  material。 〃It was a ruble an arshin; I suppose?〃
  Pierre told her the price。
  〃Too dear!〃 Natasha remarked。 〃How pleased the children will be
  and Mamma too! Only you need not have bought me this;〃 she added;
  unable to suppress a smile as she gazed admiringly at a gold comb
  set with pearls; of a kind then just coming into fashion。
  〃Adele tempted me: she kept on telling me to buy it;〃 returned
  Pierre。
  〃When am I to wear it?〃 and Natasha stuck it in her coil of hair。
  〃When I take little Masha into society? Perhaps they will be
  fashionable again by then。 Well; let's go now。〃
  And collecting the presents they went first to the nursery and
  then to the old countess' rooms。
  The countess was sitting with her companion Belova; playing
  grand…patience as usual; when Pierre and Natasha came into the drawing
  room with parcels under their arms。
  The countess was now over sixty; was quite gray; and wore a cap with
  a frill that surrounded her face。 Her face had shriveled; her upper
  lip had sunk in; and her eyes were dim。
  After the deaths of her son and husband in such rapid succession;
  she felt herself a being accidentally forgotten in this world and left
  without aim or object for her existence。 She ate; drank; slept; or
  kept awake; but did not live。 Life gave her no new impressions。 She
  wanted nothing from life but tranquillity; and that tranquillity
  only death could give her。 But until death came she had to go on
  living; that is; to use her vital forces。 A peculiarity one sees in
  very young children and very old people was particularly evident in
  her。 Her life had no external aims… only a need to exercise her
  various functions and inclinations was apparent。 She had to eat;
  sleep; think; speak; weep; work; give vent to her anger; and so on;
  merely because she had a stomach; a brain; muscles; nerves; and a
  liver。 She did these things not under any external impulse as people
  in the full vigor of life do; when behind the purpose for which they
  strive that of exercising their functions remains unnoticed。 She
  talked only because she physically needed to exercise her tongue and
  lungs。 She cried as a child does; because her nose had to be
  cleared; and so on。 What for people in their full vigor is an aim
  was for her evidently merely a pretext。
  Thus in the morning… especially if she had eaten anything rich the
  day before… she felt a need of being angry and would choose as the
  handiest pretext Belova's deafness。
  She would begin to say something to her in a low tone from the other
  end of the room。
  〃It seems a little warmer today; my dear;〃 she would murmur。
  And when Belova replied: 〃Oh yes; they've come;〃 she would mutter
  angrily: 〃O Lord! How stupid and deaf she is!〃
  Another pretext would be her snuff; which would seem too dry or
  too damp or not rubbed fine enough。 After these fits of irritability
  her face would grow yellow; and her maids knew by infallible
  symptoms when Belova would again be deaf; the snuff damp; and the
  countess' face yellow。 Just as she needed to work off her spleen so
  she had sometimes to exercise her still…existing faculty of
  thinking… and the pretext for that was a game of patience。 When she
  needed to cry; the deceased count would be the pretext。 When she
  wanted to be agitated; Nicholas and his health would be the pretext;
  and when she felt a need to speak spitefully; the pretext would be
  Countess Mary。 When her vocal organs needed exerc