Chapter Summaries:
Briggs: Insulted by Dolokhov, Pierre challenges him to a duel.
Maude: Pierre challenges Dolokhov
Pevear and Volkhonsky: Pierre challenges Dolokhov to a duel.
Translation:
IV.
Pierre sat against Dolohov and Nikolay Rostov. He ate and drank much and greedily, as always. Yet those that knew him saw that in him had occurred a big turn on the current day. He kept silent all while eating and, squinting and grimacing, looked around himself or stopped his eyes, with a look of perfect distraction, rubbing his nose with a finger. His face was depressed and gloomy. He, it seemed, saw nothing and heard nothing happening around him, and thought about something alone, heavy and unresolved.
This unauthorized, tormenting him question, were the hints of the princesses in Moscow at the closeness of Dolohov to his wife and on the current morning he received an anonymous letter, on which was said with that mean playfulness which is peculiar to all anonymous letters, how he badly saw through his glasses, and that recognizing his wife with Dolohov is a secret only to him alone. Pierre resolutely did not believe the hints of the princesses, or the letter, but he was now fearfully looking at Dolohov, sitting before him. Anytime as he accidentally looked at him and met with the beautiful, arrogant eyes of Dolohov, Pierre felt how something terrible and ugly lifted in his soul, and he would rather turn away. Unwittingly remembering all was verified in his wife and her relationship with Dolohov, Pierre saw clearly that what was said in the letter, could really be, could at least seem to be the truth, should this not touch his wife. Pierre remembered unwittingly how Dolohov, to which was returned everything after the campaign, returned in Petersburg and arrived to him. Taking advantage of his own revelry relationship and friendship with Pierre, Dolohov had arrived with all to him in his house, and Pierre placed him and gave him loan money. Pierre remembered how Elen smiling expressed her displeasure for how Dolohov lived in their house, and how Dolohov cynically praised the beauty of his wife, and how he from this time to the arrival in Moscow for a moment had not parted with them.
"Yes, he is extremely handsome, thought Pierre, I know him. For him this would be a special beauty, to so disgrace my name and laugh at his need for me because of how I fussed for him and looked him up, and helped him. I know, I understand, what salt this must give his eyes to deceive, should this really be. Yes, should this really be; but I do not believe it, I do not have the right and cannot believe." He remembered that expression, which took the face of Dolohov, when in him was found a minute of cruelty, as those in which he tied the policeman with the bear and let him into the water, or when he called without any cause into the duel of a man, or killed from his pistol the horse of a coachmen. This expression was often on the face of Dolohov, when he looked at him. "Yes, he is a duelist, thought Pierre, to him it means nothing to kill a human, to him it must seem that all fear him, to him this must be nice. He should think that I am afraid of him. And really I am afraid of him," thought Pierre, and again at these thoughts he felt that something scary and ugly lifted in his soul. Dolohov, Denisov and Rostov were sitting now against Pierre and seemed very happy. Rostov was talking funnily with his own two buddies, of one which was a dashing hussar, the other a known duelist and rake, and occasionally mockingly glanced at Pierre, whom at this dinner hit with his focused, absent-minded, massive figure. Rostov unkindly watched Pierre, at first, because of how Pierre in his hussar eyes was a civilian rich man, a husband of a beautiful woman; secondly, because of how Pierre in the concentration and distraction of his mood did not find Rostov and did not reply to his bow. When it came to drink for the health of the sovereign, Pierre, thinking, did not get up and did not take his glass.
— What are you? — shouted Rostov to him, with enthusiastically embittered eyes looking at him. — Don't you hear: the health of the sovereign emperor! — Pierre, sighing, dutifully got up, drank his glass and, waiting for when all sat down, with his good smile turned to Rostov.
— Ah I did not find you, — he said. — but Rostov was not to this, he shouted hoorah!
— What are you not renewing acquaintances, — said Dolohov to Rostov.
— God with him, fool, — said Rostov.
— Need to cherish husbands of pretty women, — said Denisov.
Pierre did not hear what they said, yet knew that they spoke about him. He turned red and turned away.
— Well, now for the health of beautiful women, — said Dolohov, and with a severe expression, but with a smile in the corner of his mouth, with a glass turned to Pierre.
— For the health of beautiful women, Petrusha, and their lovers, — he said.
Pierre, lowering his eyes, drank from his glass, not looking at Dolohov and not answering him. A lackey handed out the cantata of Kutuzov, placed the sheet at Pierre, as the more honorary guest. He wanted to take it, but Dolohov bent over, snapped the sheet out of his hand and began to read. Pierre looked at Dolohov, his pupils lowered: something scary and ugly, mutilating him in all the time of the dinner, lifted and controlled him. He bent down all of his fat body across the table.
— Don’t dare take it! — he shouted.
Upon hearing this shout and seeing to whom it was related, Nesvitsky and the neighboring from the right parties scaredly and hastily turned to Bezuhov.
— Completely and fully, what are you? — was whispered in a frightened voice. Dolohov looked at Pierre with bright, fun, cruel eyes, with that same smile, as if he spoke: "Ah, here this I love."
— I will not give, — he spoke clearly.
Pale, with a shaking lip, Pierre pulled the sheet.
— You... you... are a scoundrel!.. I call you, — he spoke, and moved the chair, getting up from behind the table. At that very second as Pierre did this and uttered these words, he felt that the question about the guilt of his wife, tormenting him this last day, was finally and undoubtedly settled affirmatively. He hated her and was forever torn from her. Despite the requests of Denisov, so that Rostov would not intervene in this business, Rostov agreed to be the second of Dolohov, and after the table spoke with Nesvitsky, the second of Bezuhov, about the condition of the duel. Pierre left for home, but Rostov with Dolohov and Denisov until late in the evening sat in the club, listening to the Gyspy singers.
— So until tomorrow, at Sokolniki, — said Dolohov, saying goodbye with Rostov on the porch of the club.
— And you are calm? — asked Rostov.
Dolohov stopped.
— Here if you will see, to you in two words open a secret to all duels. Should you go into a duel and write wills and gentle letters to your parents, should you think about how you may be killed, you — are a fool and maybe gone; but go with a solid intention to kill him, as soon as you can and true, then all is in good order. As used to say to me our Kostroma bear hunter: that’s a bear, they say, how could you not be afraid? And as you see him, the fear is passed, as would it only not be gone! Well, so that is I. Tomorrow, my dear!396
On the next day, at 8 in the morning, Pierre with Nesvitsky arrived in the Sokolniki forest and found there already Dolohov, Denisov and Rostov. Pierre had the view of a human, busy considering something quite not concerning the lying ahead affairs. His haggard face was yellow. He apparently did not sleep that night. He absent-mindedly looked around himself and frowned, as if from the bright sun. Two considerations exclusively occupied him: the guilt of his wife, of which after a sleepless night now stayed not the slightest doubt, and the innocence of Dolohov, not having any cause to guard the honor of another human for him. "Maybe, I would do that very same if I was in his location, thought Pierre. even for sure I would do that very same; why again this duel, this murder? I will kill him, or he will hit me in the head, in the elbow, in the knee. Leave from here, run, bury oneself somewhere," came into his head. Yet it was in those minutes, when came to him such a thought, he with an especially calm and scattered look, inspired respect in the watching him, asking: "Whether it is soon, and whether it is ready?"
When all was ready, sabers were stuck in the snow, meaning a barrier to whom should converge, and the pistols were charged, Nesvitsky came up to Pierre.
— I would have not carried out my responsibility, count, — he said in a timid voice, — and would not justify the trust and honor which you have done to me, choosing me as a second, should I at this important moment, extremely important moment, have not said to you the thorough truth. I suppose that this business has not enough reasons, and that it has not cost you so that for him to spill blood... you were wrong, you got excited...
— Ah, yes, terribly stupid... — said Pierre.
— So let me deliver your regret, and I am sure that our opponents will agree to accept your apology, — said Nesvitsky (so the same as other participants in affairs and as all to similar deeds, still not believing that the business had reached to a valid duel). — You know, count, it is much nobler to realize your mistake than to lead business until it is irreparable. Grudges from one party there was not. Let me talk...
— No, about the same speak! — said Pierre, —I don’t care... so ready? — he added. — You to me say only as where to walk, and where to fire? — he said, unnaturally and meekly smiling. — He took in his hand the pistol, began to question about the way of release, as he had still not held in his hands a pistol before, in which he did not want to confess. — Ah, yes, here is so, I know, I only forgot, — he spoke.
— No apologies, nothing resolutely, — spoke Dolohov to Denisov, which with his parties also made an attempt of reconciliation, and also came up to the designated place.
The place for the duel was 80 selected steps from the road at which stayed the sleigh, in a small clearing of a pine forest, covered with melted from standing in the last day of thaws snow. The opponents were standing at forty steps from each other, at the edge of the glades. The seconds, measuring the steps, paving and imprinted in the wet, deep snow the traces of these places where they were standing, to the sabers of Nesvitsky and Denisov, meaning a barrier and stuck ten steps from each other. The thaw and fog continued; for forty steps nothing was seen. For three minutes all was already ready, and all the same delayed to begin. All was silent.
396. A demain, mon cher! (See you tomorrow, my dear!)
Time: see previous chapter. The following day, at eight o'clock.
Locations: see previous chapter. the club in Moscow. Sokolniki forest ("woods at...." in Briggs. "...woods" in Pevear and Volkhonsky. "Sokolniky copse" in Garnett. "Sokolniky forest" in Dunnigan.
Mentioned: St. Petersburg, Kostroma
Pevear and Volkhonsky: While we stay at the dinner, we have switched our attention to Pierre.
Briggs: Insulted by Dolokhov, Pierre challenges him to a duel.
Maude: Pierre challenges Dolokhov
Pevear and Volkhonsky: Pierre challenges Dolokhov to a duel.
Translation:
IV.
Pierre sat against Dolohov and Nikolay Rostov. He ate and drank much and greedily, as always. Yet those that knew him saw that in him had occurred a big turn on the current day. He kept silent all while eating and, squinting and grimacing, looked around himself or stopped his eyes, with a look of perfect distraction, rubbing his nose with a finger. His face was depressed and gloomy. He, it seemed, saw nothing and heard nothing happening around him, and thought about something alone, heavy and unresolved.
This unauthorized, tormenting him question, were the hints of the princesses in Moscow at the closeness of Dolohov to his wife and on the current morning he received an anonymous letter, on which was said with that mean playfulness which is peculiar to all anonymous letters, how he badly saw through his glasses, and that recognizing his wife with Dolohov is a secret only to him alone. Pierre resolutely did not believe the hints of the princesses, or the letter, but he was now fearfully looking at Dolohov, sitting before him. Anytime as he accidentally looked at him and met with the beautiful, arrogant eyes of Dolohov, Pierre felt how something terrible and ugly lifted in his soul, and he would rather turn away. Unwittingly remembering all was verified in his wife and her relationship with Dolohov, Pierre saw clearly that what was said in the letter, could really be, could at least seem to be the truth, should this not touch his wife. Pierre remembered unwittingly how Dolohov, to which was returned everything after the campaign, returned in Petersburg and arrived to him. Taking advantage of his own revelry relationship and friendship with Pierre, Dolohov had arrived with all to him in his house, and Pierre placed him and gave him loan money. Pierre remembered how Elen smiling expressed her displeasure for how Dolohov lived in their house, and how Dolohov cynically praised the beauty of his wife, and how he from this time to the arrival in Moscow for a moment had not parted with them.
"Yes, he is extremely handsome, thought Pierre, I know him. For him this would be a special beauty, to so disgrace my name and laugh at his need for me because of how I fussed for him and looked him up, and helped him. I know, I understand, what salt this must give his eyes to deceive, should this really be. Yes, should this really be; but I do not believe it, I do not have the right and cannot believe." He remembered that expression, which took the face of Dolohov, when in him was found a minute of cruelty, as those in which he tied the policeman with the bear and let him into the water, or when he called without any cause into the duel of a man, or killed from his pistol the horse of a coachmen. This expression was often on the face of Dolohov, when he looked at him. "Yes, he is a duelist, thought Pierre, to him it means nothing to kill a human, to him it must seem that all fear him, to him this must be nice. He should think that I am afraid of him. And really I am afraid of him," thought Pierre, and again at these thoughts he felt that something scary and ugly lifted in his soul. Dolohov, Denisov and Rostov were sitting now against Pierre and seemed very happy. Rostov was talking funnily with his own two buddies, of one which was a dashing hussar, the other a known duelist and rake, and occasionally mockingly glanced at Pierre, whom at this dinner hit with his focused, absent-minded, massive figure. Rostov unkindly watched Pierre, at first, because of how Pierre in his hussar eyes was a civilian rich man, a husband of a beautiful woman; secondly, because of how Pierre in the concentration and distraction of his mood did not find Rostov and did not reply to his bow. When it came to drink for the health of the sovereign, Pierre, thinking, did not get up and did not take his glass.
— What are you? — shouted Rostov to him, with enthusiastically embittered eyes looking at him. — Don't you hear: the health of the sovereign emperor! — Pierre, sighing, dutifully got up, drank his glass and, waiting for when all sat down, with his good smile turned to Rostov.
— Ah I did not find you, — he said. — but Rostov was not to this, he shouted hoorah!
— What are you not renewing acquaintances, — said Dolohov to Rostov.
— God with him, fool, — said Rostov.
— Need to cherish husbands of pretty women, — said Denisov.
Pierre did not hear what they said, yet knew that they spoke about him. He turned red and turned away.
— Well, now for the health of beautiful women, — said Dolohov, and with a severe expression, but with a smile in the corner of his mouth, with a glass turned to Pierre.
— For the health of beautiful women, Petrusha, and their lovers, — he said.
Pierre, lowering his eyes, drank from his glass, not looking at Dolohov and not answering him. A lackey handed out the cantata of Kutuzov, placed the sheet at Pierre, as the more honorary guest. He wanted to take it, but Dolohov bent over, snapped the sheet out of his hand and began to read. Pierre looked at Dolohov, his pupils lowered: something scary and ugly, mutilating him in all the time of the dinner, lifted and controlled him. He bent down all of his fat body across the table.
— Don’t dare take it! — he shouted.
Upon hearing this shout and seeing to whom it was related, Nesvitsky and the neighboring from the right parties scaredly and hastily turned to Bezuhov.
— Completely and fully, what are you? — was whispered in a frightened voice. Dolohov looked at Pierre with bright, fun, cruel eyes, with that same smile, as if he spoke: "Ah, here this I love."
— I will not give, — he spoke clearly.
Pale, with a shaking lip, Pierre pulled the sheet.
— You... you... are a scoundrel!.. I call you, — he spoke, and moved the chair, getting up from behind the table. At that very second as Pierre did this and uttered these words, he felt that the question about the guilt of his wife, tormenting him this last day, was finally and undoubtedly settled affirmatively. He hated her and was forever torn from her. Despite the requests of Denisov, so that Rostov would not intervene in this business, Rostov agreed to be the second of Dolohov, and after the table spoke with Nesvitsky, the second of Bezuhov, about the condition of the duel. Pierre left for home, but Rostov with Dolohov and Denisov until late in the evening sat in the club, listening to the Gyspy singers.
— So until tomorrow, at Sokolniki, — said Dolohov, saying goodbye with Rostov on the porch of the club.
— And you are calm? — asked Rostov.
Dolohov stopped.
— Here if you will see, to you in two words open a secret to all duels. Should you go into a duel and write wills and gentle letters to your parents, should you think about how you may be killed, you — are a fool and maybe gone; but go with a solid intention to kill him, as soon as you can and true, then all is in good order. As used to say to me our Kostroma bear hunter: that’s a bear, they say, how could you not be afraid? And as you see him, the fear is passed, as would it only not be gone! Well, so that is I. Tomorrow, my dear!396
On the next day, at 8 in the morning, Pierre with Nesvitsky arrived in the Sokolniki forest and found there already Dolohov, Denisov and Rostov. Pierre had the view of a human, busy considering something quite not concerning the lying ahead affairs. His haggard face was yellow. He apparently did not sleep that night. He absent-mindedly looked around himself and frowned, as if from the bright sun. Two considerations exclusively occupied him: the guilt of his wife, of which after a sleepless night now stayed not the slightest doubt, and the innocence of Dolohov, not having any cause to guard the honor of another human for him. "Maybe, I would do that very same if I was in his location, thought Pierre. even for sure I would do that very same; why again this duel, this murder? I will kill him, or he will hit me in the head, in the elbow, in the knee. Leave from here, run, bury oneself somewhere," came into his head. Yet it was in those minutes, when came to him such a thought, he with an especially calm and scattered look, inspired respect in the watching him, asking: "Whether it is soon, and whether it is ready?"
When all was ready, sabers were stuck in the snow, meaning a barrier to whom should converge, and the pistols were charged, Nesvitsky came up to Pierre.
— I would have not carried out my responsibility, count, — he said in a timid voice, — and would not justify the trust and honor which you have done to me, choosing me as a second, should I at this important moment, extremely important moment, have not said to you the thorough truth. I suppose that this business has not enough reasons, and that it has not cost you so that for him to spill blood... you were wrong, you got excited...
— Ah, yes, terribly stupid... — said Pierre.
— So let me deliver your regret, and I am sure that our opponents will agree to accept your apology, — said Nesvitsky (so the same as other participants in affairs and as all to similar deeds, still not believing that the business had reached to a valid duel). — You know, count, it is much nobler to realize your mistake than to lead business until it is irreparable. Grudges from one party there was not. Let me talk...
— No, about the same speak! — said Pierre, —I don’t care... so ready? — he added. — You to me say only as where to walk, and where to fire? — he said, unnaturally and meekly smiling. — He took in his hand the pistol, began to question about the way of release, as he had still not held in his hands a pistol before, in which he did not want to confess. — Ah, yes, here is so, I know, I only forgot, — he spoke.
— No apologies, nothing resolutely, — spoke Dolohov to Denisov, which with his parties also made an attempt of reconciliation, and also came up to the designated place.
The place for the duel was 80 selected steps from the road at which stayed the sleigh, in a small clearing of a pine forest, covered with melted from standing in the last day of thaws snow. The opponents were standing at forty steps from each other, at the edge of the glades. The seconds, measuring the steps, paving and imprinted in the wet, deep snow the traces of these places where they were standing, to the sabers of Nesvitsky and Denisov, meaning a barrier and stuck ten steps from each other. The thaw and fog continued; for forty steps nothing was seen. For three minutes all was already ready, and all the same delayed to begin. All was silent.
396. A demain, mon cher! (See you tomorrow, my dear!)
Locations: see previous chapter. the club in Moscow. Sokolniki forest ("woods at...." in Briggs. "...woods" in Pevear and Volkhonsky. "Sokolniky copse" in Garnett. "Sokolniky forest" in Dunnigan.
Mentioned: St. Petersburg, Kostroma
Pevear and Volkhonsky: While we stay at the dinner, we have switched our attention to Pierre.
The “poorly through his spectacles” anonymous letter, he not enjoying the party, but stewing while looking at Dolokhov.
Pierre’s inner monologue that has him really sizing up and defining Dolokhov and then sizing up himself. He is afraid.
What actually develops first is the conflict between Pierre and Nikolai. This, and of course Dolokhov’s rudeness and boldness, is what triggers the challenge. This boldness of Pierre, to challenge him, removes his doubts about his wife.
Even though one thing shouldn’t follow another like this, action is tied to certainty.
Even though one thing shouldn’t follow another like this, action is tied to certainty.
That certainty is reflected in Dolokhov as well when the scene shifts. If you think you might die, you will die. If you do not think you will die, you won’t die.
Pierre, right before the duel is to begin, strangely believes that his wife is guilty, but Dolokhov is innocent since Pierre would have done the exact same thing.
Pierre has the opportunity to stop the duel, is encouraged to do so, but doesn’t. Dolokhov also doesn’t want to stop the duel. Denisov didn’t want Rostov involved in the duel, tries to stop it, and kind of takes over as the second in the
duel.
duel.
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 *):
Pierre Bezukhoi (also “Petrusha”)
Dolokhof
Nikolai Rostof
Ellen (also “wife” and “princess”)
The Policeman
The bear
Kutuzof (Pavel, not the commander in chief)
Nesvitsky
Denisof
(a “post driver”, which Dole footnotes as “Yamshcik, driver or postillion” is referenced, as is his horse which was shot by Dolokhof. There is a lackey that passes out the sheets of poems. Dolokhof also references a “bear-driver” or
“bear hunter”)
“bear hunter”)
Abridged Versions: No break for Bell.
Gibian: Chapter 4.
Gibian: Chapter 4.
Fuller: Chapter is preserved. No line break follows.
Komroff: Rostov’s disgust at Pierre not toasting to the emperor is the rare detail removed. Dolohov’s reasonings for being confident before the duel are removed. The end of the chapter is removed and ends when Pierre says
“aren’t we ready”, followed by a line break.
“aren’t we ready”, followed by a line break.
Kropotkin: Chapter is preserved, but no chapter or line break.
Bromfield. As we didn’t get the Pierre/Dolokhov set up early, we don’t see him stewing over the anonymous letter or monologuing about Dolokhov. Instead, he challenges him just over the cantana sheet. In this version, Pierre
had been arguing about the battle and how it was conducted. Dolokhov’s reasoning after the duel is agreed upon is different and is followed by a chapter break.
Simmons: Chapter 4: The speech by Dolokhov is gone, as is the very ending of the chapter, where they hesitate to begin.
had been arguing about the battle and how it was conducted. Dolokhov’s reasoning after the duel is agreed upon is different and is followed by a chapter break.
Simmons: Chapter 4: The speech by Dolokhov is gone, as is the very ending of the chapter, where they hesitate to begin.
Edmundson: Act Two Scene Three: Pierre is at his house reading the anonymous note and has a short terse conversation with his wife. He tells her that he is going to the banquet and Hellene makes an out of
character statement about how strange the banquet for the losers is. Pierre then has a conversation with Napoleon about whether the affair with Dolohov is true and he decides to take action.
Act Two Scene Four: The Count and Pierre at the English club talks about Natasha, Nikolai, and then Andrei. Anatole is here and participates in the toasts. He even tries to intervene before Pierre challenges Dolokhov.
Additional Notes:
Two Hussars (Maude) Page 65: “Early in the nineteenth century, when there were as yet no railways or macadamized roads, no gaslight, no stearine candles, no low couches with sprung cushions, no unvarnished furniture, no
disillusioned youths with eye-glasses, no liberalizing women philosophers, nor any charming dames aux camelias of whom there are so many of our times, in those naive days, when leaving Moscow for Petersburg in a coach
or carriage provided when a kitchenful of homemade provisions one travelled for eight days along a soft, dusty, or muddy road and believed in chopped cutlets, sledge-bells, and plain rolls; when ball-rooms were illuminated by
candelabra with wax or spermaceti candles, when furniture was arranged symmetrically, when our fathers were still young and proved it not only by the absence of wrinkles and grey hair but by fighting duels for the sake of a
woman and rushing from the opposite corner of the room to pick up a bit of a handkerchief purposely or accidentally dropped; when our mothers wore short-waisted dresses and enormous sleeves and decided family affairs by
drawing lots, when the charming dames aux camelias hid from the light of day - in those naive days of Masonic lodges, Martinists, and Tugendbunds, the days of Miloradoviches and Davydov and Pushkins”
Nabokov Page 174: "Vronski's motives in shooting himself may be understood. The chief one was injured pride, since in the moral sense Anna's husband had shown himself, and had seemed to be, the better man. Anna
herself had called her husband a saint. Vronski shoots himself much for the same reason as that for which an insulted gentleman of his day would have challenged the insulter to a duel, not to kill his man, but on the contrary
to force him to fire at him, the insulted one. Exposing himself to the other man's forced fire would have wiped away the insult. If killed, Vronski would have been revenged by the other's remorse. If still alive, Vronski would have
discharged his pistol in the air, sparing the other man's life and thus humiliating him. This is the basic idea of honor behind deuls, although of course there have been cases when both men were out to kill each other.
Unfortunately, Karenin would not have accepted a duel, and Vronski has to fight his duel with his own self, has to expose himself to his own fire. In other words, Vronski's attempt at suicide is a question of honor"
Kathyrn Feuer (The Book That Became War and Peace): "The early manuscripts are far more sensational than the final version. In the very firt drafts and outlines, we find Old Prince Bolkonsky with a serf mistress and several
illegitimate children, whom he dispatches to the orphans’ home; we find Helene (Pierre’s wife) in a suggested incestuous relationship with her brother, Anatole, and the mistress of, among others, the Tsar. Here Natasha is really
seduced by Anatole (while in the final novel she only suffers all the consequences of seduction, remaining technically chaste). Here Pierre has many duels and many love affairs; he kills some of his opponents and one of his
mistresses dies in childbirth. And here Nicholas Rostov, the novel’s triumphant model of a virtuous nobleman, whose priggishness is as impregnable as his stupidity--Nicholas Rostov has a dancing-girl mistress, provided him by
his loving and solicitous parents"
Two Hussars (Maude) Page 65: “Early in the nineteenth century, when there were as yet no railways or macadamized roads, no gaslight, no stearine candles, no low couches with sprung cushions, no unvarnished furniture, no
disillusioned youths with eye-glasses, no liberalizing women philosophers, nor any charming dames aux camelias of whom there are so many of our times, in those naive days, when leaving Moscow for Petersburg in a coach
or carriage provided when a kitchenful of homemade provisions one travelled for eight days along a soft, dusty, or muddy road and believed in chopped cutlets, sledge-bells, and plain rolls; when ball-rooms were illuminated by
candelabra with wax or spermaceti candles, when furniture was arranged symmetrically, when our fathers were still young and proved it not only by the absence of wrinkles and grey hair but by fighting duels for the sake of a
woman and rushing from the opposite corner of the room to pick up a bit of a handkerchief purposely or accidentally dropped; when our mothers wore short-waisted dresses and enormous sleeves and decided family affairs by
drawing lots, when the charming dames aux camelias hid from the light of day - in those naive days of Masonic lodges, Martinists, and Tugendbunds, the days of Miloradoviches and Davydov and Pushkins”
Nabokov Page 174: "Vronski's motives in shooting himself may be understood. The chief one was injured pride, since in the moral sense Anna's husband had shown himself, and had seemed to be, the better man. Anna
herself had called her husband a saint. Vronski shoots himself much for the same reason as that for which an insulted gentleman of his day would have challenged the insulter to a duel, not to kill his man, but on the contrary
to force him to fire at him, the insulted one. Exposing himself to the other man's forced fire would have wiped away the insult. If killed, Vronski would have been revenged by the other's remorse. If still alive, Vronski would have
discharged his pistol in the air, sparing the other man's life and thus humiliating him. This is the basic idea of honor behind deuls, although of course there have been cases when both men were out to kill each other.
Unfortunately, Karenin would not have accepted a duel, and Vronski has to fight his duel with his own self, has to expose himself to his own fire. In other words, Vronski's attempt at suicide is a question of honor"
Kathyrn Feuer (The Book That Became War and Peace): "The early manuscripts are far more sensational than the final version. In the very firt drafts and outlines, we find Old Prince Bolkonsky with a serf mistress and several
illegitimate children, whom he dispatches to the orphans’ home; we find Helene (Pierre’s wife) in a suggested incestuous relationship with her brother, Anatole, and the mistress of, among others, the Tsar. Here Natasha is really
seduced by Anatole (while in the final novel she only suffers all the consequences of seduction, remaining technically chaste). Here Pierre has many duels and many love affairs; he kills some of his opponents and one of his
mistresses dies in childbirth. And here Nicholas Rostov, the novel’s triumphant model of a virtuous nobleman, whose priggishness is as impregnable as his stupidity--Nicholas Rostov has a dancing-girl mistress, provided him by
his loving and solicitous parents"
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