IN THE HIGHER CIRCLES in Petersburg the intricate conflict between the parties of Rumyantsev, of the French, of Marya Fyodorovna, of the Tsarevitch, and the rest was going on all this time with more heat than ever, drowned, as always, by the buzzing of the court drones. But the easy, luxurious life of Petersburg, troubled only about phantasms, the reflection of life, went on its old way; and the course of that life made it a difficult task to believe in the danger and the difficult position of the Russian people. There were the same levees and balls, the same French theatre, the same court interests, the same interests and intrigues in the government service. It was only in the very highest circles that efforts were made to recollect the difficulty of the real position. There was whispered gossip of how the two Empresses had acted in opposition to one another in these difficult circumstances. The Empress Marya Fyodorovna, anxious for the welfare of the benevolent and educational institutions under her patronage, had arrangements made for the removal of all the institutes to Kazan, and all the belongings of these establishments were already packed. The Empress Elizaveta Alexyevna on being asked what commands she was graciously pleased to give, had been pleased to reply that in regard to state matters she could give no commands, since that was all in the Tsar's hands; as far as she personally was concerned, she had graciously declared, with her characteristic Russian patriotism, that she would be the last to leave Petersburg.
On the 26th of August, the very day of the battle of Borodino, there was a soirée at Anna Pavlovna's, the chief attraction of which was to be the reading of the Metropolitan's letter, written on the occasion of his sending to the Tsar the holy picture of Saint Sergey. This letter was looked upon as a model of patriotic ecclesiastical eloquence. It was to be read by Prince Vassily himself, who was famed for his fine elocution. (He used even to read aloud in the Empress's drawing-room.) The beauty of his elocution was supposed to lie in the loud, resonant voice, varying between a despairing howl and a tender whine, in which he rolled off the words quite independently of the sense, so that a howl fell on one word and a whine on others quite at random. This reading, as was always the case with Anna Pavlovna's entertainments, had a political significance. She was expecting at this soirée several important personages who were to be made to feel ashamed of patronising the French theatre, and to be roused to patriotic fervour. A good many people had already arrived, but Anna Pavlovna did not yet see those persons whose presence in her drawing-room was necessary, and she was therefore starting general topics of conversation before proceeding to the reading.
The news of the day in Petersburg was the illness of Countess Bezuhov. The countess had been taken ill a few days previously; she had missed several entertainments, of which she was usually the ornament, and it was said that she was seeing no one, and that instead of the celebrated Petersburg physicians, who usually attended her, she had put herself into the hands of some Italian doctor, who was treating her on some new and extraordinary method.
Everybody was very well aware that the charming countess's illness was due to inconveniences arising from marrying two husbands at once, and that the Italian doctor's treatment consisted in the removal of such inconvenience. But in the presence of Anna Pavlovna no one ventured to think about that view of the question, or even, as it were, to know what they did know about it.
“They say the poor countess is very ill. The doctor says it is angina pectoris.”
“Angine? Oh, that's a terrible illness.”
“They say the rivals are reconciled, thanks to the angine…” The word angine was repeated with great relish.
“I am told the old count is touching. He cried like a child when the doctor told him there was danger.”
“Oh, it would be a terrible loss. She is a fascinating woman.”
“You speak of the poor countess,” said Anna Pavlovna, coming up. “I sent to inquire after her. I was told she was getting better. Oh, no doubt of it, she is the most charming woman in the world,” said Anna Pavlovna, with a smile at her own enthusiasm. “We belong to different camps, but that does not prevent me from appreciating her as she deserves. She is very unhappy,” added Anna Pavlovna.
Supposing that by these last words Anna Pavlovna had slightly lifted the veil of mystery that hung over the countess's illness, one unwary young man permitted himself to express surprise that no well-known doctor had been called in, and that the countess should be treated by a charlatan, who might make use of dangerous remedies.
“Your information may be better than mine,” cried Anna Pavlovna, falling upon the inexperienced youth with sudden viciousness, “but I have it on good authority that this doctor is a very learned and skilful man. He is the private physician of the Queen of Spain.”
And having thus annihilated the young man, Anna Pavlovna turned to Bilibin, who was talking in another group about the Austrians, and had his forehead puckered up in wrinkles in readiness to utter un mot.
“I think it is charming!” he was saying of the diplomatic note which had been sent to Vienna with the Austrian flags taken by Wittgenstein, “le héros de Pétropol,” as he was called at Petersburg.
“What? what was it?” Anna Pavlovna inquired, creating a silence for the mot to be heard, though she had in fact heard it before.
And Bilibin repeated the precise words of the diplomatic despatch he had composed.
“The Emperor sends back the Austrian flags,” said Bilibin; “drapeaux amis et égarés qu'il a trouvés hors de la route,” Bilibin concluded, letting the wrinkles run off his forehead.
“Charming, charming!” said Prince Vassily.
“The road to Warsaw, perhaps,” Prince Ippolit said loudly, to the general surprise. Everybody looked at him, at a loss to guess what he meant. Prince Ippolit, too, looked about him with light-hearted wonder. He had no more notion than other people what was meant by his words. In the course of his diplomatic career he had more than once noticed that words suddenly uttered in that way were accepted as highly diverting, and on every occasion he uttered in that way the first words that chanced to come to his tongue. “May be, it will come out all right,” he thought, “and if it doesn't, they will know how to give some turn to it.” And the awkward silence that reigned was in fact broken by the entrance of the personage of defective patriotism whom Anna Pavlovna was waiting for to convert to a better mind; and smiling, and shaking her finger at Prince Ippolit, she summoned Prince Vassily to the table, and setting two candles and a manuscript before him, she begged him to begin. There was a general hush.
“Most high and gracious Emperor and Tsar!” Prince Vassily boomed out sternly, and he looked round at his audience as though to inquire whether any one had anything to say against that. But nobody said anything. “The chief capital city, Moscow, the New Jerusalem, receives her Messiah”—he threw a sudden emphasis on the “her”—“even as a mother in the embraces of her zealous sons, and through the gathering darkness, foreseeing the dazzling glory of thy dominion, sings aloud in triumph: ‘Hosanna! Blessed be He that cometh!”'
Prince Vassily uttered these last words in a tearful voice.
Bilibin scrutinised his nails attentively, and many of the audience were visibly cowed, as though wondering what they had done wrong. Anna Pavlovna murmured the words over beforehand, as old women whisper the prayer to come at communion: “Let the base and insolent Goliath…” she whispered.
Prince Vassily continued:
“Let the base and insolent Goliath from the borders of France encompass the realm of Russia with the horrors of death; lowly faith, the sling of the Russian David, shall smite a swift blow at the head of his pride that thirsteth for blood. This holy image of the most venerable Saint Sergey, of old a zealous champion of our country's welfare, is borne to your imperial majesty. I grieve that my failing strength hinders me from the joy of your most gracious presence. Fervent prayers I am offering up to Heaven, and the Almighty will exalt the faithful and fulfil in His mercy the hopes of your majesty.”
“Quel force! Quel style!” was murmured in applause of the reader and the author. Roused by this appeal, Anna Pavlovna's guests continued for a long while talking of the position of the country, and made various surmises as to the issue of the battle to be fought in a few days.
“You will see,” said Anna Pavlovna, “that to-morrow on the Emperor's birthday we shall get news. I have a presentiment of something good.”
①玛丽亚·费奥多罗夫娜是已故沙皇保罗的皇后，而伊丽莎白是在位沙皇亚历山大的皇后。
彼得堡每日新闻中当天的新闻是别祖霍娃伯爵夫人的病。伯爵夫人几天前意外的生病了，错过了几次因有她出席而生色的聚会，同时听说着，她不接待任何人，并且没有请经常给她诊病的彼得堡的几位知名医生，而是信任某个意大利医生用一种新的不寻常的方法给她诊治。
大家都十分清楚，迷人的伯爵夫人的病，起因于不便同时嫁给两个丈夫，而意大利人的治疗方法就在于消除这种不便；但当着安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的面，不仅谁都不敢这样想，而且好像谁都不知道似的。
“Onditquelapauvrecomtesseesttrèsmal．Lemédecinditquec'estl'anginepectorale．
“L'angine？Oh，c'estunemaladieterrible！
“Onditquelesrivauxsesontreconciliésgraceàl'angine…”①大家饶有兴味地重复着angine这个字。
“Levieuxcomteesttouchantàcequ'ondit．Ilapleurécommeunenfantquandlemédecinluiaditquelecasétaitdangereux．”
“Oh，ceseraituneperteterrible．C'estunefemmeravissante．”
“Vousparlezdelapauvrecomtesse，”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜走过来说，“J'aienvoyésavoirdesesnouvelles．Onm'aditqu'elleallaitunpeumieux．Oh，sansdoute，c'estlapluscharmantefemmedumonde．”②她对自己的兴奋莞尔一笑地说。“Nousappartenonsàdescampsdifférents，maiscelanem'empêchepasdel'éstimer，commeellelemérite．Elleestbienmalheureuse．”③安娜·帕夫洛夫娜又补了一句。
①听说，可怜的伯爵夫人病情严重。大夫说，这是心绞病。心绞痛？呵，好可怕的病！听说两个冤家对头和解了，因为心绞痛……
②听说老伯爵很悲痛。当大夫说病情危险时，他像孩子似地哭了。 呵，这将是一大损失。这么迷人的女人。 你们在谈可怜的伯爵夫人吗？我已派人去问候过了。他们说她好点了。呵， 毫无疑问，这是世界上最迷人的女人。
③我们属于不同的阵营，但这不妨碍我对她表示应有的的尊敬。她是多么不幸。
“Vosinformationspeuventêtremeilleuresqueles
mienues．”①安娜·帕夫洛夫娜突然恶狠狠地攻击那个不懂事的年轻人。“Maisjesaisdebonnesourcequecemédecinestunhommetrèssavantettrèshabile．C'estlemédecininBtimedelareined'Espagne．”②安娜·帕夫洛夫娜就这样击败了年轻人，转身朝比利宾走去。这人正在另一个圈子里谈论奥地利人，他皱起面部的皮肤，显然随时准备把它松开，说出unmot”（一句俏皮话）。
“Jetrouvequec'estcharmant！”③他在谈一份外交文件，该文件连同被维特根施泰因，lehérosdePétropol④（彼得堡的人们这样称呼他），缴获的奥国旗帜一道送往维也纳。
“怎么，怎么回事？”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜问他好使大家静听她已知道的mot。
于是，比利宾复述了一遍由他起草的那份外交文件的原文：
“L'empereurrenovielesdrapeauxAutrichiens，”比利宾说，“drapeauxamisetégarésqu'ilatrouvéhorsdelaroute．”⑤比利宾放松面部的皮肤，把话说完。
“Charmant，charmant．”⑥瓦西里公爵说。
①您的消息可能比我的准确。
②但我从可靠来源得知，这位医生博学多才。他是西班牙王后的御医呢。
③我发觉这太妙了！
④彼得堡的英雄。
⑤皇帝奉还奥国旗帜，这些友好的误入歧途的旗帜，他是在正路之外发现的。（意在讽刺奥与俄结盟不久，又与拿破仑一道进攻俄国。）
⑥妙极了，妙极了。
①这是华沙大道，有可能。
“最早成为国都的莫斯科城，新耶路撒冷，迎接自己的基督，”他突然把重音读在自己的字眼上，“像母亲张开的双臂接纳热忱的儿子，并透过迷雾，预见你邦国的光辉荣耀，他欢唱：‘和撒纳'，后代幸福啊！”瓦西里公爵用哭腔朗诵这段的最后这句话。
比利宾仔细观察自己的指甲，好多人都露出一付担惊受怕的样子，似乎在询问他们有何过错。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜像老太婆念祷词似地预见轻轻地重复：“让那胆大蛮横的歌利亚……”她低声地说完了这些话。
瓦西里公爵继续读下去：
“让那胆大蛮横的歌利亚从法国把死神的恐怖洒向全俄罗斯吧，忠顺的信仰，俄国大卫①的弹弓，即将突然击穿那嗜血狂妄者的脑袋。谨将这尊圣谢尔吉依——古代我国福祉的捍卫者的圣像，献给吾皇陛下。我痛心疾首，衰弱的体力使我不能面觐至为仁爱的圣颜。我向上天热忱祷告，求全能的主降福于正义的民族，仁慈地实现陛下的愿望。”
“Quelleforce！Quelstyle！”②朗读者和撰写者都受到了赞扬。
聆听完毕而受到鼓舞的安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的客人们，又谈了很久祖国的情势，并且对最近几天内战斗将要出现的结果作了各种推测。
“Vousverrez，”③安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说，“明天，在陛下的诞辰，我们会得到消息的。我有吉祥的预感。”
①迦特人歌利亚，非利士人的战士，被大卫用弹弓打死。见《旧约·撒母耳记》第十七章。
②多么有力！多好的文体！
③你们会看到。