War And Peace

Pierre nodded, and went on with the conversation that had been interrupted by the children. Countess Marya had some canvas embroidery to work on, Natasha sat there with her eyes on her husband, and Nikolay and Denisov put question after question to Pierre while getting to their feet, asking for a pipe, having a smoke and accepting cups of tea from a gloomy Sonya, doggedly manning the samovar. The delicate curlyheaded boy sat unnoticed in a corner, his eyes gleaming and his curly head on its slender neck protruding from a turned-down collar never moved except to follow Pierre round the room. Now and then he shivered, and mumbled something under his breath, evidently thrilled by some powerful new sensation.

The conversation turned on the latest scandals at the top of the government, most people’s favourite topic in the politics of their country. Denisov, who was disappointed in the government because of his own setbacks in the service, was delighted to hear about what he saw as a series of ridiculous new developments in Petersburg, and his harsh comments on Pierre’s words came out in a few trenchant phrases.

‘In the old days you had to be a German to be anybody – nowadays you have to dance with that Tatawinov woman and Madame Kwüdner,¹⁵ and wead . . . Eckartshausen, and all the west of them. Huh! Might as well let good old Bonaparte loose again! He’d bang a few heads together. What on earth are they doing giving the Semyonovsky wegiment to that man Schwartz?’ he shouted.

Nikolay did not have Denisov’s predisposition to find fault with everything, but he did think it was right and proper to criticize the government, and he believed that the latest developments – A being appointed minister of this department, and B governor of that province, the Tsar saying one thing, and the minister saying another – were all very important. And he thought it behoved him to show an interest and ask questions. With contributors like Nikolay and Denisov interrogating Pierre the conversation never looked like straying from the usual lines of gossip about the top government people.

But Natasha was familiar with her husband’s every idea and mannerism, and she could see that Pierre had long been wanting to steer the conversation in another direction and speak out passionately on his own subject, the subject that had taken him to Petersburg for consultations with his new friend, Prince Fyodor, but so far he had been unable to do so. She helped him out by asking how things had gone with Prince Fyodor.

‘What was that?’ asked Nikolay.

‘It’s the same thing again and again,’ said Pierre, looking round the room. ‘Everybody can see that things have come to such a pass something has to be done. All honest men have a duty to resist as far as they can.’

‘Yes, but what can honest men do?’ said Nikolay with a slight frown. ‘What can they actually do?’

‘I’ll tell you what . . .’

‘Let’s go into the study,’ said Nikolay.

Natasha, who had long been expecting a call to go and feed the baby, now heard the nurse and went off to the nursery. Countess Marya went with her. The men went to the study, and little Nikolay crept in unnoticed and sat down at a desk in the shadows near the window.

‘Come on, then. What are you going to do?’ said Denisov.

‘Castles in the air again,’ said Nikolay.

‘I’ll tell you,’ Pierre began. Instead of sitting down he paced the room, stopping now and then, lisping as he spoke and making wild gestures. ‘I’ll tell you. Do you know how things stand in Petersburg? The Tsar has lost his grip. He’s so absorbed in his mysticism.’ (For the new Pierre mysticism was unforgivable.) ‘All he asks is to be left in peace, and he can only get peace through men with no faith or conscience, people who are strangling and destroying everything – Magnitsky,¹⁶ Arakcheyev and tutti quanti . . . You must admit: if you didn’t look after your own property because all you wanted was peace and quiet, your bailiff would get the quickest results by being as vicious as he could,’ he said, turning to Nikolay.

‘Yes, but what are you getting at?’ asked Nikolay.

‘Well, everything’s going downhill. Thieving in the law-courts. Brutality, round-the-clock drill and forced labour in the army. People are being tortured, and ideas are being suppressed. Anything youthful and honourable has had it! Everybody knows it can’t go on like this. The strain is too great. Something’s got to give,’ exclaimed Pierre (speaking about the government as men have spoken about governments from time immemorial). ‘I did tell them one thing in Petersburg.’

‘Who?’ asked Denisov.

‘Oh, you know who,’ said Pierre, with a shifty, meaningful look, ‘Prince Fyodor and the rest of them. It’s all right pushing education and charitable work. Of course it is. It’s all very well intentioned, but as things stand we need more than that.’

Suddenly Nikolay became aware of his nephew’s presence. His face darkened, and he went over to him.

‘What are you doing in here?’