Chapter 47 Chapter Twenty-Four
On the evening of the twenty-fifth, when the weather was fine, Prince Andrew was lying on his elbows in a barn in the village of Knyazkovo.The village was on the edge of his regiment's camp.Through the gap in the broken wall he looked out at a row of thirty-year-old birches beside the wall with their lower branches cut off, at the fields with bunches of oats spread out, and at the bushes where the campfires were smoking--soldiers were Cook there.
Although Prince Andrei felt that his circle of life was small, that he was miserable, that he was not understood, he was as excited and excited as he was seven years ago on the eve of the battle at Austerlitz.
The order for tomorrow's battle has been issued, and he has received it.He had nothing to do at the moment.But some of the simplest, clearest, and therefore most terrifying thoughts disturbed him.He knew that tomorrow's battle would be the scariest battle he had ever fought in.For the first time in his life he thought concretely, clearly, simply and fearfully of his possible death, and he did not think of its relation to anyone else but his personal relation, the effect on his soul.Starting from this height of thought, everything that had troubled and anxious him before was illuminated by a cold white light, without shadows, prospects, or differences in outlines.He felt that life was like a magic lantern, and he watched it through the glass for a long time under the illumination of artificial light.Today, without that pane of glass, he sees those poorly drawn pictures in broad daylight. "Yes, yes, these are visions that excite me, enchant me, and pain me!" he said to himself, flipping through the main pictures of the life slide in his head, and now he was in the cold white light-death. Observe these images under white light illumination. "Look, these poorly drawn pictures, once seemed so beautiful and mysterious. Honor, social position, love for women, fatherland - how important and profound these pictures I used to think! But all this How simple, pale, and rough, in the cold white light of the morning that came for me!" The three great misfortunes of his life made him especially sad: his love for a girl, his father's death, and the possession of The French army invaded half of Russia. "Love! . . . How much I love that girl whom I feel so full of mysterious charm! I have poetic plans for sharing love and happiness with her. Oh, what a naive child I am!" Said in a loud voice, "No! I believe in ideal love. I thought that she would be faithful to me after a year away from home! Just like the gentle little dove in the fable, she would be so lovesick. It's actually much simpler... . . . it's all so simple and detestable!"
"Father built a lot of land in Bald Hills, thinking it was his place, his land, his air, his serfs, but when Napoleon came, he didn't see him at all, and swept him away like a piece of wood on the road. His Bald Mountain and all his life were destroyed. Princess Marya said, this is a test from heaven. Others are gone, so why test him? He is dead! He will never be resurrected again! So who is this test for? O fatherland, Moscow is destroyed! Tomorrow I will be killed, not even by the French, but by my own people, just as yesterday a soldier shot me in the ear. And the French come , just grabbed my feet and head and threw them into the pit, lest I stink under their noses. There will be a new order of life in the future, and others will adapt to it, but I won't know, then I am no longer alive."
He looked at a row of birch trees whose leaves were yellow and green and whose bark was whitish in the sun. "Death, I will be beaten to death tomorrow, and I will no longer exist... Everything remains the same, except that I am not here." He vividly imagined the world without him.These bright and dark birches, these unpredictable white clouds, these cooking smoke—he felt that everything around him had changed, becoming eerie and menacing.A chill ran down his spine.He got up quickly, walked out of the barn, and went for a walk outside.
There were voices from behind the barn.
"Who is it?" asked Prince Andrew aloud.
The red-nosed Captain Kimoshen, who had been Dolokhov's company commander and was now promoted to battalion commander due to lack of officers, walked timidly into the barn.An adjutant and the regimental quartermaster followed him in.
Prince Andrei stood up hastily, and while the officers reported to him, he gave them a few more instructions and was about to let them go, when a familiar murmur came from behind the barn.
"Damn it!" said a man, tripping over something.
Prince Andrew looked out of the barn, saw Pierre coming towards him, tripped over a stick on the ground, and almost fell.Prince Andrew generally did not want to see people in his circle, especially Pierre, because he reminded him of the painful moments of his last visit to Moscow.
"Oh, it's you!" he said. "What brought you here? I never expected it."
When Prince Andrew said this, his eyes and his whole face expressed more hostility than indifference.Pierre saw this at once.He was in good spirits when he approached the barn, but at the sight of Prince Andrew's face he felt at once embarrassed.
"I'm coming... just... you know... I'm coming... I'm interested..." said Pierre, saying the word "interested" inexplicably several times that day, "I want to see fight."
"Oh, oh, so what do the Freemasons think of war? How can it be prevented?" said Prince Andrew mockingly. "How about Moscow? How about my family? Did they go to Moscow at all?" Ask seriously.
"Yes. Julie told me. I have been to see them, but I have not met them. They have gone to the Moscow country."