War and Peace by graf Leo Tolstoy (latest ebook reader .TXT) π
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βI think it is delightful,β he said, referring to a diplomatic note that had been sent to Vienna with some Austrian banners captured from the French by Wittgenstein, βthe hero of Petropolβ as he was then called in Petersburg.
βWhat? Whatβs that?β asked Anna PΓ‘vlovna, securing silence for the mot, which she had heard before.
And BilΓbin repeated the actual words of the diplomatic dispatch, which he had himself composed.
βThe Emperor returns these Austrian banners,β said BilΓbin, βfriendly banners gone astray and found on a wrong path,β and his brow became smooth again.
βCharming, charming!β observed Prince VasΓli.
βThe path to Warsaw, perhaps,β Prince Hippolyte remarked loudly and unexpectedly. Everybody looked at him, understanding what he meant. Prince Hippolyte himself glanced around with amused surprise. He knew no more than the others what his words meant. During his diplomatic career he had more than once noticed that such utterances were received as very witty, and at every opportunity he uttered in that way the first words that entered his head. βIt may turn out very well,β he thought, βbut if not, theyβll know how to arrange matters.β And really, during the awkward silence that ensued, that insufficiently patriotic person entered whom Anna PΓ‘vlovna had been waiting for and wished to convert, and she, smiling and shaking a finger at Hippolyte, invited Prince VasΓli to the table and bringing him two candles and the manuscript begged him to begin. Everyone became silent.
βMost Gracious Sovereign and Emperor!β Prince VasΓli sternly declaimed, looking round at his audience as if to inquire whether anyone had anything to say to the contrary. But no one said anything. βMoscow, our ancient capital, the New Jerusalem, receives her Christββhe placed a sudden emphasis on the word herββas a mother receives her zealous sons into her arms, and through the gathering mists, foreseeing the brilliant glory of thy rule, sings in exultation, βHosanna, blessed is he that cometh!ββ
Prince VasΓli pronounced these last words in a tearful voice.
BilΓbin attentively examined his nails, and many of those present appeared intimidated, as if asking in what they were to blame. Anna PΓ‘vlovna whispered the next words in advance, like an old woman muttering the prayer at Communion: βLet the bold and insolent Goliath...β she whispered.
Prince VasΓli continued.
βLet the bold and insolent Goliath from the borders of France encompass the realms of Russia with death-bearing terrors; humble Faith, the sling of the Russian David, shall suddenly smite his head in his bloodthirsty pride. This icon of the Venerable Sergius, the servant of God and zealous champion of old of our countryβs weal, is offered to Your Imperial Majesty. I grieve that my waning strength prevents rejoicing in the sight of your most gracious presence. I raise fervent prayers to Heaven that the Almighty may exalt the race of the just, and mercifully fulfill the desires of Your Majesty.β
βWhat force! What a style!β was uttered in approval both of reader and of author.
Animated by that address Anna PΓ‘vlovnaβs guests talked for a long time of the state of the fatherland and offered various conjectures as to the result of the battle to be fought in a few days.
βYou will see,β said Anna PΓ‘vlovna, βthat tomorrow, on the Emperorβs birthday, we shall receive news. I have a favorable presentiment!β
Anna PΓ‘vlovnaβs presentiment was in fact fulfilled. Next day during the service at the palace church in honor of the Emperorβs birthday, Prince VolkΓ³nski was called out of the church and received a dispatch from Prince KutΓΊzov. It was KutΓΊzovβs report, written from TatΓ‘rinova on the day of the battle. KutΓΊzov wrote that the Russians had not retreated a step, that the French losses were much heavier than ours, and that he was writing in haste from the field of battle before collecting full information. It followed that there must have been a victory. And at once, without leaving the church, thanks were rendered to the Creator for His help and for the victory.
Anna PΓ‘vlovnaβs presentiment was justified, and all that morning a joyously festive mood reigned in the city. Everyone believed the victory to have been complete, and some even spoke of Napoleonβs having been captured, of his deposition, and of the choice of a new ruler for France.
It is very difficult for events to be reflected in their real strength and completeness amid the conditions of court life and far from the scene of action. General events involuntarily group themselves around some particular incident. So now the courtiersβ pleasure was based as much on the fact that the news had arrived on the Emperorβs birthday as on the fact of the victory itself. It was like a successfully arranged surprise. Mention was made in KutΓΊzovβs report of the Russian losses, among which figured the names of TΓΊchkov, BagratiΓ³n, and KutΓ‘ysov. In the Petersburg world this sad side of the affair again involuntarily centered round a single incident: KutΓ‘ysovβs death. Everybody knew him, the Emperor liked him, and he was young and interesting. That day everyone met with the words:
βWhat a wonderful coincidence! Just during the service. But what a loss KutΓ‘ysov is! How sorry I am!β
βWhat did I tell about KutΓΊzov?β Prince VasΓli now said with a prophetβs pride. βI always said he was the only man capable of defeating Napoleon.β
But next day no news arrived from the army and the public mood grew anxious. The courtiers suffered because of the suffering the suspense occasioned the Emperor.
βFancy the Emperorβs position!β said they, and instead of extolling KutΓΊzov as they had done the day before, they condemned him as the cause of the Emperorβs anxiety. That day Prince VasΓli no longer boasted of his protΓ©gΓ© KutΓΊzov, but remained silent when the commander in chief was mentioned. Moreover, toward evening, as if everything conspired to make Petersburg society anxious and uneasy, a terrible piece of news was added. Countess HΓ©lΓ¨ne BezΓΊkhova had suddenly died of that terrible malady it had been so agreeable to mention. Officially, at large gatherings, everyone said that Countess BezΓΊkhova had died of a terrible attack of angina pectoris, but in intimate circles details were mentioned of how the private physician of the Queen of Spain had prescribed small doses of a certain drug to produce a certain effect; but HΓ©lΓ¨ne, tortured by the fact that the old count suspected her and that her husband to whom she had written (that wretched, profligate Pierre) had not replied, had suddenly taken a very large dose of the drug, and had died in agony before assistance could be rendered her. It was said that Prince VasΓli and the old count had turned upon the Italian, but the latter had produced such letters from the unfortunate deceased that they had immediately let the matter drop.
Talk in general centered round three melancholy facts: the Emperorβs lack of news, the loss of KutΓ‘ysov, and the death of HΓ©lΓ¨ne.
On the third day after KutΓΊzovβs report a country gentleman arrived from Moscow, and news of the surrender of Moscow to the French spread through the whole town. This was terrible! What a position for the Emperor
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