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Chapter 8 - Prince Nikolai Bolkonsky is taken ill
Princess Marya was not in Moscow and out of danger as Prince Andrey supposed.
After the return of Alpatych from Smolensk the old prince suddenly seemed to awake as from a dream. He ordered the militiamen to be called up from the villages and armed, and wrote a letter to the commander in chief informing him that he had resolved to remain at Bald Hills to the last extremity1 and to defend it, leaving to the commander in chief’s discretion2 to take measures or not for the defense3 of Bald Hills, where one of Russia’s oldest generals would be captured or killed, and he announced to his household that he would remain at Bald Hills.
But while himself remaining, he gave instructions for the departure of the princess and Dessalles with the little prince to Bogucharovo and thence to Moscow. Princess Marya, alarmed by her father’s feverish4 and sleepless5 activity after his previous apathy6, could not bring herself to leave him alone and for the first time in her life ventured to disobey him. She refused to go away and her father’s fury broke over her in a terrible storm. He repeated every injustice8 he had ever inflicted9 on her. Trying to convict her, he told her she had worn him out, had caused his quarrel with his son, had harbored nasty suspicions of him, making it the object of her life to poison his existence, and he drove her from his study telling her that if she did not go away it was all the same to him. He declared that he did not wish to remember her existence and warned her not to dare to let him see her. The fact that he did not, as she had feared, order her to be carried away by force but only told her not to let him see her cheered Princess Marya. She knew it was a proof that in the depth of his soul he was glad she was remaining at home and had not gone away.
The morning after little Nikolai had left, the old prince donned his full uniform and prepared to visit the commander in chief. His caleche was already at the door. Princess Marya saw him walk out of the house in his uniform wearing all his orders and go down the garden to review his armed peasants and domestic serfs. She sat by the window listening to his voice which reached her from the garden. Suddenly several men came running up the avenue with frightened faces.
Princess Marya ran out to the porch, down the flower-bordered path, and into the avenue. A large crowd of militiamen and domestics were moving toward her, and in their midst several men were supporting by the armpits and dragging along a little old man in a uniform and decorations. She ran up to him and, in the play of the sunlight that fell in small round spots through the shade of the lime-tree avenue, could not be sure what change there was in his face. All she could see was that his former stern and determined10 expression had altered to one of timidity and submission11. On seeing his daughter he moved his helpless lips and made a hoarse12 sound. It was impossible to make out what he wanted. He was lifted up, carried to his study, and laid on the very couch he had so feared of late.
The doctor, who was fetched that same night, bled him and said that the prince had had a seizure13 paralyzing his right side.
It was becoming more and more dangerous to remain at Bald Hills, and next day they moved the prince to Bogucharovo, the doctor accompanying him.
By the time they reached Bogucharovo, Dessalles and the little prince had already left for Moscow.
For three weeks the old prince lay stricken by paralysis14 in the new house Prince Andrey had built at Bogucharovo, ever in the same state, getting neither better nor worse. He was unconscious and lay like a distorted corpse15. He muttered unceasingly, his eyebrows16 and lips twitching17, and it was impossible to tell whether he understood what was going on around him or not. One thing was certain — that he was suffering and wished to say something. But what it was, no one could tell: it might be some caprice of a sick and half-crazy man, or it might relate to public affairs, or possibly to family concerns.
The doctor said this restlessness did not mean anything and was due to physical causes; but Princess Marya thought he wished to tell her something, and the fact that her presence always increased his restlessness confirmed her opinion.
He was evidently suffering both physically18 and mentally. There was no hope of recovery. It was impossible for him to travel, it would not do to let him die on the road. “Would it not be better if the end did come, the very end?” Princess Marya sometimes thought. Night and day, hardly sleeping at all, she watched him and, terrible to say, often watched him not with hope of finding signs of improvement but wishing to find symptoms of the approach of the end.
Strange as it was to her to acknowledge this feeling in herself, yet there it was. And what seemed still more terrible to her was that since her father’s illness began (perhaps even sooner, when she stayed with him expecting something to happen), all the personal desires and hopes that had been forgotten or sleeping within her had awakened19. Thoughts that had not entered her mind for years — thoughts of a life free from the fear of her father, and even the possibility of love and of family happiness — floated continually in her imagination like temptations of the devil. Thrust them aside as she would, questions continually recurred20 to her as to how she would order her life now, after that. These were temptations of the devil and Princess Marya knew it. She knew that the sole weapon against him was prayer, and she tried to pray. She assumed an attitude of prayer, looked at the icons21, repeated the words of a prayer, but she could not pray. She felt that a different world had now taken possession of her — the life of a world of strenuous22 and free activity, quite opposed to the spiritual world in which till now she had been confined and in which her greatest comfort had been prayer. She could not pray, could not weep, and worldly cares took possession of her.
It was becoming dangerous to remain in Bogucharovo. News of the approach of the French came from all sides, and in one village, ten miles from Bogucharovo, a homestead had been looted by French marauders.
The doctor insisted on the necessity of moving the prince; the provincial23 Marshal of the Nobility sent an official to Princess Marya to persuade her to get away as quickly as possible, and the head of the rural police having come to Bogucharovo urged the same thing, saying that the French were only some twenty-five miles away, that French proclamations were circulating in the villages, and that if the princess did not take her father away before the fifteenth, he could not answer for the consequences.
The princess decided24 to leave on the fifteenth. The cares of preparation and giving orders, for which everyone came to her, occupied her all day. She spent the night of the fourteenth as usual, without undressing, in the room next to the one where the prince lay. Several times, waking up, she heard his groans26 and muttering, the creak of his bed, and the steps of Tikhon and the doctor when they turned him over. Several times she listened at the door, and it seemed to her that his mutterings were louder than usual and that they turned him over oftener. She could not sleep and several times went to the door and listened, wishing to enter but not deciding to do so. Though he did not speak, Princess Marya saw and knew how unpleasant every sign of anxiety on his account was to him. She had noticed with what dissatisfaction he turned from the look she sometimes involuntarily fixed27 on him. She knew that her going in during the night at an unusual hour would irritate him.
But never had she felt so grieved for him or so much afraid of losing him. She recalled all her life with him and in every word and act of his found an expression of his love of her. Occasionally amid these memories temptations of the devil would surge into her imagination: thoughts of how things would be after his death, and how her new, liberated28 life would be ordered. But she drove these thoughts away with disgust. Toward morning he became quiet and she fell asleep.
She woke late. That sincerity29 which often comes with waking showed her clearly what chiefly concerned her about her father’s illness. On waking she listened to what was going on behind the door and, hearing him groan25, said to herself with a sigh that things were still the same.
“But what could have happened? What did I want? I want his death!” she cried with a feeling of loathing30 for herself.
She washed, dressed, said her prayers, and went out to the porch. In front of it stood carriages without horses and things were being packed into the vehicles.
It was a warm, gray morning. Princess Marya stopped at the porch, still horrified31 by her spiritual baseness and trying to arrange her thoughts before going to her father. The doctor came downstairs and went out to her.
“He is a little better today,” said he. “I was looking for you. One can make out something of what he is saying. His head is clearer. Come in, he is asking for you . . . ”
Princess Marya’s heart beat so violently at this news that she grew pale and leaned against the wall to keep from falling. To see him, talk to him, feel his eyes on her now that her whole soul was overflowing32 with those dreadful, wicked temptations, was a torment33 of joy and terror.
“Come,” said the doctor.
Princess Marya entered her father’s room and went up to his bed. He was lying on his back propped34 up high, and his small bony hands with their knotted purple veins35 were lying on the quilt; his left eye gazed straight before him, his right eye was awry36, and his brows and lips motionless. He seemed altogether so thin, small, and pathetic. His face seemed to have shriveled or melted; his features had grown smaller. Princess Marya went up and kissed his hand. His left hand pressed hers so that she understood that he had long been waiting for her to come. He twitched37 her hand, and his brows and lips quivered angrily.
She looked at him in dismay trying to guess what he wanted of her. When she changed her position so that his left eye could see her face he calmed down, not taking his eyes off her for some seconds. Then his lips and tongue moved, sounds came, and he began to speak, gazing timidly and imploringly38 at her, evidently afraid that she might not understand.
Straining all her faculties39 Princess Marya looked at him. The comic efforts with which he moved his tongue made her drop her eyes and with difficulty repress the sobs40 that rose to her throat. He said something, repeating the same words several times. She could not understand them, but tried to guess what he was saying and inquiringly repeated the words he uttered.
“Mmm . . . ar . . . ate . . . ate . . . ” he repeated several times.
It was quite impossible to understand these sounds. The doctor thought he had guessed them, and inquiringly repeated: “Marya, are you afraid?” The prince shook his head, again repeated the same sounds.
“My mind, my mind aches?” questioned Princess Marya.
He made a mumbling41 sound in confirmation42 of this, took her hand, and began pressing it to different parts of his breast as if trying to find the right place for it.
“Always thoughts . . . about you . . . thoughts . . . ” he then uttered much more clearly than he had done before, now that he was sure of being understood.
Princess Marya pressed her head against his hand, trying to hide her sobs and tears.
He moved his hand over her hair.
“I have been calling you all night . . . ” he brought out.
“If only I had known . . . ” she said through her tears. “I was afraid to come in.”
He pressed her hand.
“Weren’t you asleep?”
“No, I did not sleep,” said Princess Marya, shaking her head.
Unconsciously imitating her father, she now tried to express herself as he did, as much as possible by signs, and her tongue too seemed to move with difficulty.
“Dear one . . . Dearest . . . ” Princess Marya could not quite make out what he had said, but from his look it was clear that he had uttered a tender caressing43 word such as he had never used to her before. “Why didn’t you come in?”
“And I was wishing for his death!” thought Princess Marya.
He was silent awhile.
“Thank you . . . daughter dear! . . . for all, for all . . . forgive! . . . thank you! . . . forgive! . . . thank you! . . . ” and tears began to flow from his eyes. “Call Andrey!” he said suddenly, and a childish, timid expression of doubt showed itself on his face as he spoke44.
He himself seemed aware that his demand was meaningless. So at least it seemed to Princess Marya.
“I have a letter from him,” she replied.
He glanced at her with timid surprise.
“Where is he?”
“He’s with the army, Father, at Smolensk.”
He closed his eyes and remained silent a long time. Then as if in answer to his doubts and to confirm the fact that now he understood and remembered everything, he nodded his head and reopened his eyes.
“Yes,” he said, softly and distinctly. “Russia has perished. They’ve destroyed her.”
And he began to sob7, and again tears flowed from his eyes. Princess Marya could no longer restrain herself and wept while she gazed at his face.
Again he closed his eyes. His sobs ceased, he pointed45 to his eyes, and Tikhon, understanding him, wiped away the tears.
Then he again opened his eyes and said something none of them could understand for a long time, till at last Tikhon understood and repeated it. Princess Marya had sought the meaning of his words in the mood in which he had just been speaking. She thought he was speaking of Russia, or Prince Andrey, of herself, of his grandson, or of his own death, and so she could not guess his words.
“Put on your white dress. I like it,” was what he said.
Having understood this Princess Marya sobbed46 still louder, and the doctor taking her arm led her out to the veranda47, soothing48 her and trying to persuade her to prepare for her journey. When she had left the room the prince again began speaking about his son, about the war, and about the Emperor, angrily twitching his brows and raising his hoarse voice, and then he had a second and final stroke.
Princess Marya stayed on the veranda. The day had cleared, it was hot and sunny. She could understand nothing, think of nothing and feel nothing, except passionate49 love for her father, love such as she thought she had never felt till that moment. She ran out sobbing50 into the garden and as far as the pond, along the avenues of young lime trees Prince Andrey had planted.
“Yes . . . I . . . I . . . I wished for his death! Yes, I wanted it to end quicker. . . . I wished to be at peace. . . . And what will become of me? What use will peace be when he is no longer here?” Princess Marya murmured, pacing the garden with hurried steps and pressing her hands to her bosom51 which heaved with convulsive sobs.
When she had completed the tour of the garden, which brought her again to the house, she saw Mademoiselle Bourienne — who had remained at Bogucharovo and did not wish to leave it — coming toward her with a stranger. This was the Marshal of the Nobility of the district, who had come personally to point out to the princess the necessity for her prompt departure. Princess Marya listened without understanding him; she led him to the house, offered him lunch, and sat down with him. Then, excusing herself, she went to the door of the old prince’s room. The doctor came out with an agitated52 face and said she could not enter.
“Go away, Princess! Go away . . . go away!”
She returned to the garden and sat down on the grass at the foot of the slope by the pond, where no one could see her. She did not know how long she had been there when she was aroused by the sound of a woman’s footsteps running along the path. She rose and saw Dunyasha her maid, who was evidently looking for her, and who stopped suddenly as if in alarm on seeing her mistress.
“Please come, Princess . . . The Prince,” said Dunyasha in a breaking voice.
“Immediately, I’m coming, I’m coming!” replied the princess hurriedly, not giving Dunyasha time to finish what she was saying, and trying to avoid seeing the girl she ran toward the house.
“Princess, it’s God’s will! You must be prepared for everything,” said the Marshal, meeting her at the house door.
“Let me alone; it’s not true!” she cried angrily to him.
The doctor tried to stop her. She pushed him aside and ran to her father’s door. “Why are these people with frightened faces stopping me? I don’t want any of them! And what are they doing here?” she thought. She opened the door and the bright daylight in that previously53 darkened room startled her. In the room were her nurse and other women. They all drew back from the bed, making way for her. He was still lying on the bed as before, but the stern expression of his quiet face made Princess Marya stop short on the threshold.
“No, he’s not dead — it’s impossible!” she told herself and approached him, and repressing the terror that seized her, she pressed her lips to his cheek. But she stepped back immediately. All the force of the tenderness she had been feeling for him vanished instantly and was replaced by a feeling of horror at what lay there before her. “No, he is no more! He is not, but here where he was is something unfamiliar54 and hostile, some dreadful, terrifying, and repellent mystery!” And hiding her face in her hands, Princess Marya sank into the arms of the doctor, who held her up.
In the presence of Tikhon and the doctor the women washed what had been the prince, tied his head up with a handkerchief that the mouth should not stiffen55 while open, and with another handkerchief tied together the legs that were already spreading apart. Then they dressed him in uniform with his decorations and placed his shriveled little body on a table. Heaven only knows who arranged all this and when, but it all got done as if of its own accord. Toward night candles were burning round his coffin56, a pall57 was spread over it, the floor was strewn with sprays of juniper, a printed band was tucked in under his shriveled head, and in a corner of the room sat a chanter reading the psalms58.
Just as horses shy and snort and gather about a dead horse, so the inmates59 of the house and strangers crowded into the drawing room round the coffin — the Marshal, the village Elder, peasant women — and all with fixed and frightened eyes, crossing themselves, bowed and kissed the old prince’s cold and stiffened60 hand.
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1
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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6
apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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7
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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8
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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9
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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12
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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13
seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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14
paralysis
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| n.麻痹(症)；瘫痪(症) | |
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15
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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16
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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17
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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18
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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19
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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20
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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21
icons
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| n.偶像( icon的名词复数 )；（计算机屏幕上表示命令、程序的）符号，图像 | |
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22
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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23
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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24
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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25
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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26
groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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27
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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28
liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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29
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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30
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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31
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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32
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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33
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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34
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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36
awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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37
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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38
imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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39
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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40
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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41
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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42
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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43
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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44
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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45
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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46
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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47
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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48
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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49
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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50
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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51
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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52
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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53
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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54
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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55
stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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56
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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57
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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58
psalms
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| n.赞美诗( psalm的名词复数 )；圣诗；圣歌；(中的) | |
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59
inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
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60
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
参考例句： |
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