Chapter 16 Chapter Sixteen

When Natasha and her husband were together, they talked as husband and wife usually do, that is, they exchanged ideas frankly and clearly, without following any laws of logic, without formulas of judgments, reasonings, and conclusions, but entirely in a kind of Unique way to do it.Natasha had long been used to talking to her husband in this way, so that whenever Pierre spoke logically, it was unmistakable that there was some discord between husband and wife.As soon as Pierre began to talk calmly and speculatively, and Natasha responded in this way, she knew that the next step was a quarrel. When the two of them were left alone, Natasha would suddenly, with wide-open happy eyes, go quietly up to her husband, throw her arms round his head, and leaning against her bosom, would say: "Now you are all yours." I'm mine, it's all mine! You can't get away!" Then they began to talk, against all laws of logic, on all sorts of topics, and they discussed many issues at once, which not only did not affect mutual understanding, Instead it shows more clearly that they fully understand each other.

Just like a dream, everything in the dream is illusory, meaningless, and inconsistent, only the emotions that dominate the dream are real.As in a dream, their presence and intercourse with each other defies common sense, their conversations are vague and incoherent, and their conversation is governed only by emotion. Natasha told Pierre about her brother's life, about how miserable and empty she felt when Pierre was away, about how she liked Maria more than ever, and how Maria was superior to her in every way.When Natasha said these words, she was specifically referring to the philosophical school evolved from New Realism in the United States in the 1930s and 1940s. She sincerely admitted that Maria was better than herself, but at the same time asked Pierre to like her more than Marie. Or other women, especially after Pierre had seen many women in Petersburg, and she explained it to him again.

Pierre replied to Natasha that he had attended many parties and dinners in Petersburg, and had seen many ladies, but they were too much to bear. "I've forgotten how I'm not used to dealing with these ladies," he said. "It's just tedious. Besides, I've got enough of my own business." Natasha looked at him intently, and went on: "Maria is wonderful!" she said. "She understands children very well. She seems to read their hearts. For example, Mitya was naughty yesterday..." "Oh, he looks so much like his father," interrupted Pierre.

Natasha understood in her heart why Pierre said that Mitya was like Nicholas, and he was unhappy at the thought of the quarrel with his brother-in-law, and he wanted to know Natasha's opinion on the matter. "Nicholas has this weakness. He will never agree to anything that is not approved by everyone. However, I know that you attach great importance to breaking new ground." She repeated what Pierre had said before. "No, the main thing," said Pierre, "is that Nicholas considers thinking and reasoning to be a mere pastime, or even to pass the time. For example, in his collection of books he made a rule not to bring the books he bought (Western Smondi, Rousseau, Montesquieu) and never buy new books again," added Pierre with a smile. "You know, I want to make him..." He began to soften his tone, and Natasha interrupted him to make him feel that he didn't have to.

-------- ① Sismondi (1773-1842), Swiss political economist and historian. ②Rousseau and Montesquieu were famous French philosophers in the eighteenth century. "You say he thinks thinking is a pastime..." "Yes, all the rest is entertainment to me. When I'm in Petersburg, I meet all the people as if in a dream. Once I'm lost in thought, all the rest seems to me to be entertainment." "Oh, it's a pity I wasn't there when you went to see the children and said hello to them just now," Natasha said. "Which child do you think you like the most? It's probably Lisa!"

"Yes," said Pierre, going on with what was on his mind. "Nikolai said we shouldn't think. But I couldn't. Not to mention how I felt in Petersburg. I felt (I can say this to you) that in that situation, without me, everything Things couldn't get done. At that time everyone insisted on their own way. But I can bring everyone together, and my ideas are simple and easy to accept. You know, I don't say that we should oppose this opposition That. That may make things go wrong, and things will go wrong, I said, all those who like to do good things join hands, our only banner is-actively doing good. Prince Sergei is a good man, and he is very smart. "

Natasha had no doubt that Pierre's ideas were great, but one thing puzzled her.That is, he is her husband. "Can such an important person, a person who is useful to society, be my husband at the same time?! How did this happen?" She wanted to tell him the doubts in her heart. "Who can be sure that he is smarter than other people?" she asked herself, going over in her mind all the people Pierre admired.Judging by his words, the person he respected most was Platon Karatayev. "You know what I'm thinking?" she said. "I'm thinking of this man, Platon Karatayev. How is he? If he were here, would he approve of what you're doing?"

Pierre was not at all surprised by this question.He understood his wife's thinking. "Platon Karatayev?" he said, pausing for a moment, evidently considering Karatayev's views on the matter. "He probably doesn't quite get it yet, but I think he'll agree." "I love you so much!" said Natasha suddenly, "very, very much!" "No, he won't approve," said Pierre after a moment's thought, "he will approve of our family life. He wants to see everything graceful, happy, peaceful, and I will show him with pride." Us. Oh, you spoke of parting just now, and what a special feeling I felt for you when we parted..."

"Yes, there will be more..." said Natasha. "No, that's not what it means. I've always loved you, I can't love you any more, especially...yeah..." He didn't finish his sentence, because their eyes met, and the eyes of each other wanted to Everything said was fully expressed. "These are all nonsense. What a happy honeymoon, what the sweetest beginnings of love," said Natasha suddenly. "On the contrary, this is the golden autumn of our love. As long as you don't go out and leave me. Do you remember when we quarreled? Every time I was wrong, always my fault. But why we quarreled, I don’t remember.”

"It's all for one thing," said Pierre, smiling, "envy..." "Stop it, I don't want to hear it," cried Natasha, with a look of stern anger in her eyes. "Did you see her?" she asked again after a pause. "No, even if I saw it, I wouldn't recognize it." They were silent for a while. "Ah, you know? I was watching you all the time you were talking in the study," said Natasha, evidently trying to dispel the cloud that had come over them. "You look so much like our boy that you were poured out of the same mold. (She means their youngest son). Ah! It's time to go to the youngest son. . . . Here comes the milk . . . Hate to leave you."

They were silent for another moment.Then the two turned around at the same time to face each other, and spoke together.Pierre was full of self-satisfaction and high spirits, and Natasha smiled calmly and happily.They both spoke at the same time, and then stopped at the same time, letting the other speak first. "No, what did you say? Say it, say it!" "No, go ahead, I'm talking nonsense," said Natasha. Pierre then resumed the subject he had begun.He spoke triumphantly of his achievements in Petersburg.Talking about his pride, he seemed to feel that he had a heavy responsibility on his shoulders - to point out a new direction for all Russia and the world. "I just want to say that the ideas that have great influence are always simple. My whole idea is that if the bad guys can get together and form a power, then the good guys should too. You know, it's that simple .” "yes." "What do you want to say?" "I was just saying silly things." "It's nothing, let's talk." "It's nothing, just a little thing," said Natasha, smiling even brighter. "I just wanted to talk about Peggy, who smiled and narrowed his eyes today when the nurse was about to take him from me. Hugs me so tightly, he probably thinks he can hide from the babysitter that way. He looks so cute. Look, he's crying again now. Well, bye!" she said, and went away. out. Meanwhile, downstairs in the bedroom of Nikolai Bolkonsky Jr., a small lamp was burning as usual (the boy was afraid of the dark, which could not be cured).Des fell asleep propped up on four pillows, snoring evenly from his high-bridged nose.Little Nicholas had just woken up, covered in cold sweat, sitting on the bed with wide-open eyes looking in front of him.He was awakened by a nightmare.In the dream both he and Pierre were wearing helmets of the kind shown in the illustrations of Plutarch's works.He and Uncle Pierre lead a large army.This army consists of white slashes, much like the waving spider webs that fill the air in autumn.And Desel called this kind of filament a hairspring ②.In front of it is the word "Glorious", which is also like an erratic silk thread, but thicker.He and Pierre walked forward lightly and cheerfully, getting closer and closer to their goal.Suddenly, the thread guiding them became slack and tangled, and the pull could no longer be pulled. At this moment, Uncle Nicholas suddenly stood before them with a majestic and terrifying look. -------- ① Plutarch is an ancient Greek historian, author of "Greek and Roman Biographies". ②French: Notre Dame Line. (i.e. a hairspring floating in the air.) "You all did this, didn't you?" he said, pointing to the broken wax and quill. "I loved you, but now Arakcheyev orders me to kill whoever goes forward first." Little Nicholas turned to look at Pierre, who was no longer there.Pierre became his father, Prince Andrei, who, though invisible, was there.Little Nicholas saw his father and felt that he liked his father very much, but felt that his whole body was weak and his bones were falling apart, as if he wanted to love but couldn't.Father caresses him and takes pity on him.But at this moment Uncle Nikolai Ilyitch was getting closer and closer to them.Little Nicholas was so frightened that he woke up in an instant. "Father," he thought. "Father (although there are two lifelike portraits of Prince Andrei in the house, the image of Prince Andrei has never been in the mind of little Nicholas), "Father is with me, he caresses me .He praised me and Uncle Pierre.Whatever he says, I will try my best to do it.Muzi Sefula burned his own hand, why doesn't it happen in my life?I know they want me to study.I want to learn.By the day my studies are over, I will make a difference.I only ask God to do one thing for me—let me encounter what happened to Plutarch's heroes, and I will follow their example.I have to do better than them.At that time, everyone will know me, love me and praise me. "Little Nicholas suddenly felt chest tightness and tightness of breath, and couldn't help crying bitterly. -------- ①Mucci Sevella is a hero in ancient Roman legend. According to legend, in order to save Rome from subjugation, he burned his right hand to show his determination. "Are you feeling well?" He heard Desel ask him. "Nothing," answered little Nicholas, lying down on the pillow again. "What a nice person he is, kind and kind, I like him." Little Nicholas thought of Desel in this way. "Oh, and Uncle Pierre! He's such a nice fellow! And father? Father!Father!I must make a difference and do something that he is deeply satisfied with..." -------- ①French. ②French: No.