Chapter 7 Chapter VII

On November 12, Kutuzov's combat units, stationed near Olmitz, prepared to be inspected the next day by the two emperors, the Russian and the Austrian.The Guards, which had just arrived from Russia, rested at a place fifteen versts away from Olmitz, and went to the Olmitz parade ground for inspection before ten o'clock the next morning. On that day Nikolai Rostov received a letter from Boris informing him that the Izmailov regiment was sleeping fifteen versts from Olmitz and that Boris was waiting for him in order to transfer the money and the letter forwarded to him.Rostov was especially in need of money just as the troops were camping near Olmitz on their return from the expedition.Some army merchants and Austrian Jewish merchants fully supplied all kinds of attractive commodities and crowded the camp.The officers and soldiers of the Paulograd Corps held banquets one after another to celebrate their meritorious service and awards. They rode to Olmitz to visit the new Hungarian woman Karolina, who opened a wine shop with a cook there.Not long ago Rostov celebrated his promotion to second lieutenant of the cavalry. He bought a war horse called "Bedouin" from Denisov, owed money to his companions and merchants, and was full of debts.Rostov received a note from Boris and rode with a companion to Olmitz, where he had lunch and a bottle of wine, and then rode alone to the Guards barracks to find his childhood friend. partner.Rostov had not had time to prepare his military uniform, and he wore a tattered cadet coat with crossed epaulets, a pair of equally tattered breeches with a frayed leather lining, and a knife decorated with tassels hanging from his waist saber.He rode a Don horse which he had bought from a Cossack on the march, and he wore a crumpled hussar cap tilted back pompously.He thought, as he rode near the camp of Izmailov's regiment, that Boris and his companions would be amazed by his appearance as a battle-tested hussar.

Throughout the march, the Guards flaunted their neatness and discipline like a garden.Every day and night the journey is very short, they carry their bags in carts; the head of the Austrian country prepares very delicious food for the officers during the march.Various regiments entered and exited the city amidst military music.The soldiers followed the Grand Duke's order and marched all the way (the pride of the guards) from beginning to end, and the officers of the various posts marched on foot.During the march, Boris was by Berg's side, now the company commander.Berg, who had taken over a company during the march, had won the confidence of his chiefs by his adept execution of orders and his prudence, and he was also in a good position to manage economic affairs.During the march Boris was very sociable and made the acquaintance of people who could help him. By virtue of Pierre's letter of introduction, he made the acquaintance of Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, who he hoped to use at the General Headquarters. Get a job.Berg and Boris, well rested after the last day of the march, were neatly dressed, and sat at a round table in the lodgings allotted to them, playing chess.Berg held a lighted pipe between his knees.Boris, with all his characteristic delicacy, arranged the pieces in a small pyramid with his thin white hands, and waited for his opponent to make a move, looking into Berg's face, evidently thinking about the game. game, he's always just thinking about what he's doing.

"Hey, how did you get out?" he said. "Do the best you can," replied Berg, moving the pawn with his hand and letting it go again. At this moment, the door opened. "He's here after all!" cried Rostov. "Berg is here too! Oh, what a man you are, nemuzahcpah, anenyweqorwnup!" he cried, repeating what he and Boris had said to the nurse he used to make fun of. -------- ①The nanny speaks French that doesn't make sense: Children, go to bed. "My God! You have become very powerful!" Boris stood up and went forward to meet Rostov, but while he was standing, he did not forget to pick up the fallen chess pieces and put them back in their place. ;He wanted to hug his friend, but Nikolay avoided him.Nikolay had the special feeling of youthful fear of the conventional way of life.He is unwilling to imitate others, but wants to express emotions in a new way, in his own way, just not to express emotions hypocritically like the elders.So Nikolai wanted to do something special when he met his friends.He wanted to squeeze Boris and push Boris, but he couldn't kiss like when everyone met.Boris, on the other hand, embraced Rostov peacefully and kindly, and kissed him three times.

They have hardly seen each other for half a year. At their age, young people are taking the first step on the road of life. The two of them found that each other has changed a lot. It is a reflection of the face of the new society that is advancing.Both of them had changed a lot since the last time they met, so they both wanted to confide in each other as quickly as possible. "Well, you are all damned idlers! Dress brightly and cleanly, as if from a garden party, not to say that we are all guilty officers." said the baritone voice, which sounded unfamiliar, pointing to the tight-legged breeches he was wearing with a soldier's air.

The German landlady poked her head out of the half-open door when she heard Rostov's loud voice. "How about it, is it pretty?" He said with a wink. "Why are you yelling like that! You'll frighten them," said Boris. "I didn't expect you to come today," he added. "I just sent you a note yesterday through a familiar Kutuzov's adjutant, Bolkonsky. I didn't expect that he would send ... to you so soon. Ah, what are you doing?" Like? Have you been trained in combat?" Boris asked. Rostov made no answer, shook the Soldier's Cross of St. George from the tape of his uniform, pointed to his bandaged arm, and looked at Berg, smiling.

"You can see it," he said. "So that's the case, yes, yes!" Boris said with a smile, "We also enjoy honor in this expedition. You already know that the crown prince often travels with our regiment, so we get various benefits and conveniences .What a welcome we received in Poland, what a splendid luncheon and ball we attended—I cannot tell you all. The Dauphin was very kind to our officers." The two friends then struck up a conversation, one of the feasting and fighting life of the hussars, the other of the joys and benefits of serving under a man of high rank.etc.

"Ah! Guards!" said Rostov. "Listen to me, send someone to hit the bar." Boris frowned. "If you must drink," he said. So he went to the bed, took out his wallet from under the clean pillow, and ordered his men to bring the wine. "Yes, I will give you the money and the letter." He added. Rostov picked up a letter, threw the money on the sofa, propped his arms on the table, and began to read the letter.He read a few lines, then cast a savage glance at Berg.Rostov, meeting his eyes, covered his face with the letter. "Sent you so much money," said Berg, looking at the heavy purse sunk in the sofa, "Count, we were already barely getting by on our salary.

I am telling you about my own case..." "Berg, my dear, listen to me," said Rostov, "when you receive a letter from home about an interview with one of your own people, and you want to ask him for details, then if I would Here, I'll go away at once, so as not to disturb you. Listen to me, go wherever you want... to hell!" he cried, grabbing him by the shoulder and looking affectionately at him. His face, apparently trying to make the rudeness of his words less jarring, added: "My dear, you know, don't be offended, I speak from the heart of our old friend."

"Oh, come on, Count, I quite understand," said Berg in a shrill voice, rising to his feet. "Go to the masters, they invite you," added Boris. Berg, in a fairly clean frock coat, free from stains and dust, fluffed up his sideburns in front of the mirror, so that they curled up like those of Alexander I, and he was convinced by Rostov's gaze. Seeing that his frock coat was conspicuous, he came out of the room with a pleasant smile. "Oh, what a beast I am!" said Rostov, reading the letter. "how?" "Why, I'm a pig. I haven't written a single letter, and I've terrified them. Well, I'm a pig!" he repeated, suddenly flushing. "Hey, you send Gavrilo to the bar! Well, we'll have a good drink! . . . " he said.

The parents' letter contained a letter of introduction addressed to Prince Bagration, which the old countess, on Anna Mikhaylovna's advice, obtained through acquaintances, and sent it to her son, asking He made good use of the letters by delivering them to their intended recipients. "What stupidity! I don't need it," said Rostov, throwing the letter under the table. "Why did you throw it away?" asked Boris. "What a letter of introduction, what use do I need it for!" "How can this letter be useless?" said Boris, picking up the letter and reading the signature. "This letter will be very useful to you."

"I don't need anything. I'm not going to be anyone's adjutant." "Why exactly?" asked Boris. "Slave-like errand!" "I think you're still such a visionary," said Boris, shaking his head. "You're still such a diplomat. But that's not the point... What about you?" asked Rostov. "Yes, as you can see. So far so good, but, to be honest, I'd rather be an adjutant than be at the front." "why?" "Since you are serving in the military, you must strive for a bright future as much as possible, so that you can make a fortune. This is the purpose." "Yes, so it is!" said Rostov, who seemed to be thinking of something else. He gazed at his friend in a perplexed mood, evidently searching in vain for an answer to some question. Old Gavrilo brought the wine. "Shall we send for Alphonse Karleich now?" said Boris. "He's drinking with you, and I can't." -------- ① Alphonse Karleich is Berg's first name and paternal title. "Send for him, send for him. How about the German?" said Rostov, smiling contemptuously. "He's a nice, nice guy, decent and likeable," said Boris. Once again Rostov looked intently at Boris and sighed.Berg returned, and the three officers chatted animatedly over a bottle of wine.The two Guardsmen told Rostov about their expedition, about the hospitality they received in Russia, Poland and abroad, about the words and deeds of their commander, the Grand Duke, about his kindness. And impatient anecdote.When the subject did not involve Berg himself, he was as silent as usual, but when the anecdote of the Grand Duke's anger came up, he related with joy that he had a conversation with the Grand Duke in Galicia, when the Grand Duke When he inspected the regiments, he became furious when he saw the soldiers behaving badly.He said with a pleasant smile that the Grand Duke, in a fit of rage, rode up to him and shouted: "Arnauts!" (a favorite expression of the Dauphin when he was angry), and summoned the company commander. -------- ① The Turks call the Albanians the Arnauts. "Count, I am not afraid of anything, believe it or not, because I know I am right. Count, you know, I can say without boasting that I know the orders of the regiment by heart, and I know the drills by heart, It's like reciting 'Our Father in Heaven'. Therefore, Count, I have done nothing wrong in the whole company. I feel that I have a clear conscience. I'm here to report, (Berg rises up and moves his hands vividly) Yes. It's hard to be more respectful and smug.) As the saying goes, he's yelling at me, yelling, yelling, as the saying goes, yelling bloody, and saying 'Arnaut people', said 'ghost guy', and said 'exiled to Siberia'." Berg said with a sincere smile. "I know, I'm right, so I'm silent, Count, isn't that so? It wasn't mentioned in the order the next day, and that's the essence of composure! Count, that's it." Berg said, lighting his pipe and exhaling smoke rings. "Yes, it's wonderful," said Rostov, smiling slightly. But Boris noticed that Rostov was about to laugh at Berg, and deftly diverted the conversation away.He asked Rostov to tell where and how he had been wounded, which pleased Rostov, and he began to talk, his spirits growing brighter as he spoke.He told them of the battle of Schöngraben exactly as those who took part in it usually tell of battles, that is, they told of events they wished to happen, and of events they had learned from other narrators. The events heard there are all eloquently told events that are not true at all.Rostov was an honest young man, he would never deliberately tell a lie.When he began to speak, he tried to be right, but involuntarily, unconsciously, and inevitably, he began to tell lies.These audiences have heard the story of the charge as many times as he himself, and have formed a certain concept of what the charge is. They are waiting to hear such a story. If the truth is told to these audiences, they will not believe him. , or worse, they will think that Rostov's fault is that he did not encounter the usual situation for those who describe cavalry charges.He couldn't tell them simply that all the horsemen were galloping, and he fell off his horse, sprained his arm, and ran as hard as he could into the forest to avoid the French.Moreover, if he wanted to tell all that happened, he would have to restrain himself and give only the outlines of what happened at that time.It is very difficult to tell the truth, and very few young people really have this ability.They expected to hear stories of how he went through fire and water, burning like a fire, like a storm on the enemy's phalanx; Taste, he was exhausted, fell off his horse, and so on.He told them all this. In the middle of the speech, just when he said, "You can't imagine what a strange feeling of madness you experience when charging into battle," Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, whom Boris was waiting for, walked in. The room came.Prince Andrei liked to protect young people, and he was honored to be asked for mercy.He had a good impression of Boris, who was good at pleasing him yesterday, and wanted to fulfill the young man's wish.Kutuzov had sent him to the crown prince with the papers, and he stopped by to see the young man, hoping to see him alone.He entered the room and saw a hussar of the army group (Prince Andrei could not tolerate such people) who was describing the marvels of the battle. He smiled kindly at Boris, frowned and closed his eyes. , looked at Rostov, bowed slightly, and sat down on the sofa wearily and slowly.He was not happy to meet a bunch of disgusting people.Rostov realized this, and blushed.But he didn't care, because it was a stranger, but he glanced at Boris, who seemed ashamed of himself as a hussar of the Army Group.In spite of Prince Andrei's sardonic and repulsive tone, in spite of Rostov's point of view of the combat troops and his contempt for the aide-de-camp at the headquarters (the man who came in was obviously of that class), Rostov was Embarrassed, flushed, silent.Boris asked if there was any news in the headquarters, and whether he could inquire about the military plan we had drawn up. "They're supposed to push forward," Bolkonski replied, clearly reluctant to say much in front of others. Berg took this opportunity to ask very respectfully whether they were going to double the feed to the company commanders, as the rumors said?Prince Andrew answered the question with a smile, saying that he could not comment on such an important state decree, and Berg laughed happily. "The matter about you," said Prince Andrew, turning again to Boris, "we will talk about it later," and looking back at Rostov. "Come to me after the inspection, and we will do everything we can." He glanced into the room, turned his face to Rostov, and Rostov's insurmountable childish embarrassment turned into anger, which he could hardly care about, and said: "You seem to have talked about the Battle of Schonglaben, have you not? Have you been there?" "I've been there," said Rostov angrily, as if insulting the adjutant by his words. Bolkonski found the hussar's embarrassment ridiculous.He smiled slightly with a slightly contemptuous look. "Yes, many stories are now being made up about the campaign." "Yes, there are many stories!" exclaimed Rostov, looking suddenly now at Boris and now at Bolkonsky with wild eyes, "yes, there are many stories, but Our stories are all those of men who marched under the fire of the enemy, and our stories carry weight, not the tales of command dandies who do nothing and are rewarded." "You think I'm one of those people, don't you?" said Prince Andrei, smiling calmly and with great pleasure. At this moment a strange feeling of anger merged in Rostov's soul with his calm respect for the man. "I'm not talking about you," he said. "I don't know you, and, frankly, I don't want to know you. I'm talking about the staff, after all." "But I must tell you," interrupted Prince Andrei in a calm and dignified voice. "You want to insult me, and I agree. It is easy to insult me ​​if you have little respect for yourself. But you must admit that the time and place are inappropriate in this matter. In the last few days we have had to hold a more serious duel, and besides, said Drubetskoy (surname Boris), he is an old acquaintance of yours, but my face disgusts you, It was not his fault at all. But," he said, standing up, "you know my name, and you know where to find me. But don't you forget," he added, "I don't think any Neither you nor I have been bullied, I am older than you, so I advise you to give up the matter. Well, I will wait for you after the review on Friday. Drubetskoy, Good-bye." Prince Andrey finished with a word, bowed to both of them, and went out. It was only after he had gone out that Rostov thought of what he had to say to him.Because he forgot to say this, he was even more annoyed.Rostov at once ordered his servants to prepare the horses, and after taking Boris good-bye indifferently, went back to his house.Will he go to the base camp tomorrow to challenge this foolish adjutant, or will he really give up on this matter?The question tormented him along the way.Sometimes he thought with resentment how glad he would be to see this small, weak and proud man terrified under his pistol, and sometimes he felt with astonishment that, among the people he knew, there was no Who would make him wish so much to be his acquaintance like this little lieutenant whom he hated so much.