Briggs: Marya stays on with Natasha, then they leave for Moscow.
Pevear and Volokhonsky: Friendship of Natasha and Princess Marya. They go to Moscow together.
Translation:
III.
Princess Marya postponed her departure. Sonya and the count tried to replace Natasha, but could not. They saw that she alone could hold her mother from insane despair. For three weeks Natasha hopelessly lived at her mother’s, slept in the armchair in her room, watered, fed her and, not ceasing, talked with her, talking because of how only the gentle, caressing voice of hers calmed the countess.
The mental wound of her mother could not heal. The death of Petya ripped off half of her life. In the month after the news about the death of Petya, catching her as a fresh and cheerful fifty-year old woman, she exited from her room half-dead and did not host participation in life — an old woman. Yet that same wound, which half murdered the countess, this new wound called Natasha to life.
The mental wound, going on from the break of spiritual creatures, as weird as this seems, little by little closed, exactly so the same as a physical wound. And after this so deep wound healed and it seemed to converge on their own edges, the mental wound, as the physical, heals only inside the protruding force of life.
So the same healed the wound of Natasha. She thought that her life was over. Yet suddenly the love to her mother showed her that the essence of her life — love — still was alive in her. Woke up love, and woke up life.
The last days of Prince Andrey tied up Natasha with Princess Marya. The new misfortune got them closer. Princess Marya postponed her departure and the last three weeks, as behind a sick kid, nursed behind Natasha. The last weeks, carried out by Natasha in the room of her mother, tore her physical forces.
Once in the middle of the day Princess Marya, noticing that Natasha trembled in feverish chills, took her away to herself and laid her down on her bed. Natasha lied down, but when Princess Marya, lowered by her side, wanted to exit, Natasha beckoned her to herself.
— I do not want to sleep. Marie, sit with me.
— You are tired — try to fall asleep.
— No, no. What for did you take me away? — She asked.
— She is much better. She said now is okay, — said Princess Marya.
Natasha lied on the bed and in the half-lit room examined the face of Princess Marya.
"Is she similar to him?" — thought Natasha. "Yes, she is similar and not similar. Yet she is special, alien, really new, unknown. And she loves me. What is in her soul? All good. Yet how? How does she think? How is she watching me? Yes, she is beautiful."
— Masha, — she said, timidly pulling to herself her hand. — Masha, you do not think that I am bad. No? Masha, darling. How I love you. Will we really, really be friends?
And Natasha, embracing her, began to kiss the hand and face of Princess Marya. Princess Marya was ashamed and gladdened by this expression of feeling by Natasha.
From this day between Princess Marya and Natasha installed that passionate and tender friendship, which is only between women. They incessantly kissed, said to each other gentle words and a big part of the time was accompanied together. If one exited, then another anxiously and hurried to join her. They together felt more consent between themselves, than apart, each with themselves. Between them installed the feeling stronger than friendship: this was the exceptional feeling of the opportunity of life only in the presence of each other.
Sometimes they were silent a whole hour; sometimes, now lying on beds, they began to speak and talk until morning. They talked for the most part about the long ago past. Princess Marya told about her childhood, about her mother, about her father, about her daydreaming; and Natasha, before with calm incomprehension turning away from this life of devotion, submissiveness, from the poetry of Christian selflessness, now, feeling herself connected in love with Princess Marya, fell in love and verified Princess Marya and understood the incomprehensible to her before side of life. She did not think to apply to her life humility and selflessness, because of how she used to search for other joys, but she understood and fell in love with this other before incomprehensible to her virtue. For Princess Marya, listening to the stories about childhood and the first youth of Natasha, also opened the before incomprehensible to her side of life, faith in life, in the enjoyment of life.
They all exactly so the same did not talk about him with that, so that to not violate the words, as to them it seemed, that height of feeling which was in them, but this silence about him was done that, little by little, not believing this, they forgot him.
Natasha lost weight, became pale and physically had become so weak that all constantly talked about her health, and this was nice to her. Yet sometimes in her suddenly was found not only the fear of death, but the fear of disease, weakness, loss of beauty, and unwittingly she sometimes carefully looked at her naked arm, wondering at the thinness, or dropped in by the mornings in the mirror at her pulled out, miserable, as to her it seemed, face. To her it seemed that this so must be and together with that became fearful and sad.
One time she soon rose upstairs and was heavily out of breath. Immediately again unwittingly she thought up to herself business downstairs and from there ran in again up, trying her forces and watching for herself.
Another time she called to Dunyasha and her voice rattled. She another time cried out to her, despite that she heard her steps, — crying out by that voice of her breast, which she sang, and listened to it.
She did not know this, would not have believed it, but under her appeared an impenetrable layer of silt, frozen in her soul, now breaking through in subtle, gentle young needles of grass, which must take root and so cover their own vital shoots crushing her grief, that it soon will not be seen and not be noticeable. The wound healed inside.
At the end of January Princess Marya left for Moscow and the count insisted that Natasha rode with her, with that so that to consult with doctors.
Mentioned: a month, the last days of Prince Andrey
Locations: see previous chapter
Mentioned: Moscow
Pevear and Volokhonsky Notes: Marya puts off leaving for Moscow and Natasha stays with her mother in her room for three weeks, with her mother rejecting anyone else. By the time a month passes, the countess is described as "half-dead and taking no part in life." Natasha however, has her own spiritual wound healed and "Love woke, and life awoke."
Marya and Natasha grow closer and begin to understand her much more clearly. Natasha goes with Marya to Moscow because of her declining physical health.
Characters (characters who do not appear, but are mentioned are placed in italics. First appearances are in Bold. First mentions are underlined. Final appearance denoted by *):
Princess Marya (also "Marie" and "Masha")
Sonya
Count Rostof ("Count" and "father")
Natasha
Countess Rostova ("mother" and "countess")
Petya
Prince Andrei
Dunyasha
(also doctors are mentioned)
Abridged Versions: End of Chapter 15 in Bell.
Gibian: End of chapter 1.
Fuller: Entire chapter is cut.
Komroff: The part of the chapter that focuses on the countess's decaying nature is removed. Her conversation and moments with Marya are also removed. Followed by a line break.
Kropotkin: The episode Maria and Natasha share is removed, though we get the information about their friendship. End of Chapter 2.
Simmons: The discussion about the spiritual wound is removed. The time frame is also removed. Mary and Natasha's new close friendship is shortened and shorn of a lot of detail. The specific examples of her illness (the running out of breath and voice is removed). End of Chapter 1.
Additional Notes:
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