War and Peace by graf Leo Tolstoy (latest ebook reader .TXT) π
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- Author: graf Leo Tolstoy
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βBut what is war? What is needed for success in warfare? What are the habits of the military? The aim of war is murder; the methods of war are spying, treachery, and their encouragement, the ruin of a countryβs inhabitants, robbing them or stealing to provision the army, and fraud and falsehood termed military craft. The habits of the military class are the absence of freedom, that is, discipline, idleness, ignorance, cruelty, debauchery, and drunkenness. And in spite of all this it is the highest class, respected by everyone. All the kings, except the Chinese, wear military uniforms, and he who kills most people receives the highest rewards.
βThey meet, as we shall meet tomorrow, to murder one another; they kill and maim tens of thousands, and then have thanksgiving services for having killed so many people (they even exaggerate the number), and they announce a victory, supposing that the more people they have killed the greater their achievement. How does God above look at them and hear them?β exclaimed Prince Andrew in a shrill, piercing voice. βAh, my friend, it has of late become hard for me to live. I see that I have begun to understand too much. And it doesnβt do for man to taste of the tree of knowledge of good and evil.... Ah, well, itβs not for long!β he added.
βHowever, youβre sleepy, and itβs time for me to sleep. Go back to GΓ³rki!β said Prince Andrew suddenly.
βOh no!β Pierre replied, looking at Prince Andrew with frightened, compassionate eyes.
βGo, go! Before a battle one must have oneβs sleep out,β repeated Prince Andrew.
He came quickly up to Pierre and embraced and kissed him. βGood-by, be off!β he shouted. βWhether we meet again or not...β and turning away hurriedly he entered the shed.
It was already dark, and Pierre could not make out whether the expression of Prince Andrewβs face was angry or tender.
For some time he stood in silence considering whether he should follow him or go away. βNo, he does not want it!β Pierre concluded. βAnd I know that this is our last meeting!β He sighed deeply and rode back to GΓ³rki.
On re-entering the shed Prince Andrew lay down on a rug, but he could not sleep.
He closed his eyes. One picture succeeded another in his imagination. On one of them he dwelt long and joyfully. He vividly recalled an evening in Petersburg. NatΓ‘sha with animated and excited face was telling him how she had gone to look for mushrooms the previous summer and had lost her way in the big forest. She incoherently described the depths of the forest, her feelings, and a talk with a beekeeper she met, and constantly interrupted her story to say: βNo, I canβt! Iβm not telling it right; no, you donβt understand,β though he encouraged her by saying that he did understand, and he really had understood all she wanted to say. But NatΓ‘sha was not satisfied with her own words: she felt that they did not convey the passionately poetic feeling she had experienced that day and wished to convey. βHe was such a delightful old man, and it was so dark in the forest... and he had such kind... No, I canβt describe it,β she had said, flushed and excited. Prince Andrew smiled now the same happy smile as then when he had looked into her eyes. βI understood her,β he thought. βI not only understood her, but it was just that inner, spiritual force, that sincerity, that frankness of soulβthat very soul of hers which seemed to be fettered by her bodyβit was that soul I loved in her... loved so strongly and happily...β and suddenly he remembered how his love had ended. βHe did not need anything of that kind. He neither saw nor understood anything of the sort. He only saw in her a pretty and fresh young girl, with whom he did not deign to unite his fate. And I?... and he is still alive and gay!β
Prince Andrew jumped up as if someone had burned him, and again began pacing up and down in front of the shed.
On August 25, the eve of the battle of BorodinΓ³, M. de Beausset, prefect of the French Emperorβs palace, arrived at Napoleonβs quarters at ValΓΊevo with Colonel Fabvier, the former from Paris and the latter from Madrid.
Donning his court uniform, M. de Beausset ordered a box he had brought for the Emperor to be carried before him and entered the first compartment of Napoleonβs tent, where he began opening the box while conversing with Napoleonβs aides-de-camp who surrounded him.
Fabvier, not entering the tent, remained at the entrance talking to some generals of his acquaintance.
The Emperor Napoleon had not yet left his bedroom and was finishing his toilet. Slightly snorting and grunting, he presented now his back and now his plump hairy chest to the brush with which his valet was rubbing him down. Another valet, with his finger over the mouth of a bottle, was sprinkling Eau de Cologne on the Emperorβs pampered body with an expression which seemed to say that he alone knew where and how much Eau de Cologne should be sprinkled. Napoleonβs short hair was wet and matted on the forehead, but his face, though puffy and yellow, expressed physical satisfaction. βGo on, harder, go on!β he muttered to the valet who was rubbing him, slightly twitching and grunting. An aide-de-camp, who had entered the bedroom to report to the Emperor the number of prisoners taken in yesterdayβs action, was standing by the door after delivering his message, awaiting permission to withdraw. Napoleon, frowning, looked at him from under his brows.
βNo prisoners!β said he, repeating the aide-de-campβs words. βThey are forcing us to exterminate them. So much the worse for the Russian army.... Go on... harder, harder!β he muttered, hunching his back and presenting his fat shoulders.
βAll right. Let Monsieur de Beausset enter, and Fabvier too,β he said, nodding to the aide-de-camp.
βYes, sire,β and the aide-de-camp disappeared through the door of the tent.
Two valets rapidly dressed His Majesty, and wearing the blue uniform of the Guards he went with firm quick steps to the reception room.
De Beaussetβs hands meanwhile were busily engaged arranging the present he had brought from the Empress, on two chairs directly in front of the entrance. But Napoleon had dressed and come out with such unexpected rapidity that he had not time to finish arranging the surprise.
Napoleon noticed at once what they were about and guessed that they were not ready. He did not wish to deprive them of the pleasure of giving him a surprise, so he pretended not to see de Beausset and called Fabvier to him, listening silently and with a stern frown to what Fabvier told him of the heroism and devotion of his troops fighting at Salamanca, at the other end of Europe, with but one thoughtβto be worthy of their Emperorβand but one fearβto fail to please him. The result of that battle had been deplorable. Napoleon made ironic remarks during Fabvierβs account, as if he had not expected that matters could go otherwise in his absence.
βI must make up for that in Moscow,β said Napoleon.
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