Book 2 Part 5 Chapter 16 (Chapter 158 overall)

Chapter Summaries: Dole: Anatol at Dolokhof's. The proposed abduction. The witnesses, Khvosti-kof and Makarin (Makarin). Dolokhof remonstrates. Anatol's arguments. The troika driver, Balaga. Reminiscenes.
Briggs: Anatole rejects Dolokhov's dissuasion as he prepares to abduct Natasha.
Maude: Anatole at Dolokhov's. Balaga
Pevear and Volokhonsky: Anatole at Dolokhov's. Preparations for the elopement.

Translations:

XVI.

Anatole in the latter time moved to Dolohov’s. The plan of the abduction of Rostova was already a few days thought out and prepared by Dolohov, and on that day when Sonya, overhearing at the door of Natasha, decided to protect her, this plan was to be brought to the entrusted. Natasha at nine hours in the evening promised to exit to Kuragin at the rear porch. Kuragin was to put her in a prepared carriage and to carry for 60 versts from Moscow to the village of Kamenka, where there was a prepared stripped pope, who was to marry them. In Kamenka was a ready setup, which was to take them out to the Warsaw road and there on a postal horse they were to gallop for abroad.

In Anatole was a passport for the road, and nine thousand rubles, taken at his sisters, and nine thousand, employed through the mediation of Dolohov.

Two witnesses — Hvostikov, a former instructor, who was used for the game of Dolohov and Makarin, a retired hussar, a good natured and weak person, supplying boundless love to Kuragin — were sitting in the first room for tea.

In the big office of Dolohov, decorated from wall to ceiling with Persian rugs, bear skins and weapons, sat Dolohov in road outerwear and boots before the uncovered bureau, in which lied calculated and bundled money. Anatole in an unfastened uniform went from that room, where were sitting the witnesses, through the office to the back room, where his French lackey with others laid the last things. Dolohov counted money and wrote it down.

— Well, — he said, — to Hvostikov you need to give two thousand.

— Well and give, — said Anatole.

— Makarka (they so called Markarina), this is selfless for you in fire and in water. Well here and over calculated, — said Dolohov, showing him a note. — So?

— Yes, of course, so, — said Anatole, apparently not listening to Dolohov and with a smile, not coming off of his face, watched forward of himself.

Dolohov slammed shut the bureau and turned to Anatole with a mocking smile.

— But you know what — throw all this: there is still time! — he said.

— Fool! — said Anatole. — Stop speaking nonsense. If you would know... damn you know what!

— Right to throw it, — said Dolohov. — I speak business to you. This is not a joke, what have you started?

— Well, again, again teasing? Go to hell! Ah?... — frowningly said Anatole. — It is not right your stupid jokes. — and he went from the room.

Dolohov contemptuously and indulgently smiled when Anatole got out.

— You wait, — he said following Anatole, — I am not kidding, I speak business, go, go here.

Anatole again entered into the room and, trying to focus attention, watched Dolohov, obviously unwittingly submitting to him.

— You listen to me, I for the last time speak to you. For what do you joke with me? Don’t I contradict you? Who all arranged you, who found booty, who took the passport, who took out money? All was I.

— Well and thank you. You think I am not grateful to you? — Anatole sighed and hugged Dolohov.

— I aided you, but all the same to you I should say the truth: the business is dangerous and, if made out, stupid. Well, you take her away, okay. Isn’t this so left? Recognize the business that you are married. Because you under criminal court are let down...

— Ah! Nonsense, nonsense! — again frowning, Anatole began talking. — Because I interpreted to you. Ah? — and Anatole with that special addiction (which are in dull people) to an inference which reached his mind, repeated that reasoning which he one hundred times repeated to Dolohov. — Because I interpreted to you, I decided: should this marriage be invalid, — he said, bending his finger, — it means I do not answer; well but if it is valid, I don’t care: for abroad nothing of this will be known, well so what? And do not say, do not say, do not say!

— Right to throw! You only bind yourself...

— Get out to hell, — said Anatole and, taking behind the hair, getting out to another room and immediately again returning and with feet sat down on the chair close before Dolohov. — This is devil knows what! Ah? You look, how it beats! — he took the hand of Dolohov and attached it to his heart. — Ah! What a leg, kind friend, what a look! Goddess!!556 Ah?

Dolohov, coldly smiling and glistening his own beautiful, arrogant eyes, watched him, apparently wishing still to have some fun above him.

— Well the money comes, then what?

— So what? Ah? — repeated Anatole with sincere perplexity before the thought about the future. — So what? There I do not know what... Well what nonsense you speak! — he looked at his watch. — Time!

Anatole went into the back room.

— Well, whether you are soon? Digging here! — he shouted at the servant.

Dolohov removed money and shouting at a man, so that to command to give a bite and drink for the road, entered into that room where was sitting Hvostikov and Makarin.

Anatole in the office lied, leaning on his arm, on the couch, thoughtfully smiling and something tenderly about himself whispered.

— Go, eat something. Well drink! — Dolohov shouted at him from a different room.

— I do not want! — replied Anatole, all smiling.

— Go, Balaga has arrived.

Anatole got up and entered into the dining room. Balaga was a known carriage driver, already for six years knowing Dolohov and Anatole, and served them with his own carriages. He not a time, when the regiment of Anatole stood at Tver, from the evening took him away from Tver, to dawn delivered him to Moscow and took him away on the next day at night. Not a time he took away Dolohov for a drive, not a time he by the city rolled them with gypsies and ladies, as called Balaga. Not a time he with his work pressed by Moscow people and cabbies, and he always helped out his gentleman, as he called them. Not one horse he drove under them. Not a time he was beaten by them, not a time they soldered him champagne and madeira, which he loved, and not one piece he knew for everyone of them, which for an ordinary person a long time would have deserved Siberia. In their revelry they often called Balaga, forced him to drink and dance with a gyspy, and not a thousand of their money went over through his hand. Serving them, he twenty times in a year risked his life and his hide, and in their work overwhelmed more horses than their overpaid money. But he loved them, loved this insane riding, by eighteen versts a hour, loved to roll over the cabman and crush pedestrians by Moscow, and by all lopes flyed by Moscow streets. He loved to hear for himself these wild shouts of drunk voices: "Go! Go!" then as really it could not be to go faster; he loved to stretch out the hurt neck of the peasant, who alive or dead shunned from him. "Real gentleman!" he thought.

Anatole and Dolohov also loved Balaga for his skilled driving and for that he loved that same as they. With others Balaga dressed up, took twenty five rubles for a two-hour ride and with others only occasionally drove himself, but sent them very well done. But with his own gentlemen, as he called them, he always rode himself and never demanded anything for his work. Only upon learning through valets the time when there was money, he a time in a few months came in the morning, abstinent and, bowing low, requested to be bailed out. He always planted the gentlemen.

— Really you provoke me, father Fedor Ivanych or your excellency, — he spoke. — Quite dishorsed, to go to the fair really lend what you may.

Anatole and Dolohov, when they had money, gave him a thousand or two rubles.

Balaga was fair-haired, with a red face and in particular a red, thick neck, squat, pug peasant, twenty seven years old, with brilliant small eyes and a little beard. He was dressed in a thin blue caftan in silk lining put on a short fur coat.

He crossed himself in the front corner and came up to Dolohov, holding out his black, small hand.

— Fedor Ivanovich! — he said, bowing.

— Great, brother. — well here he is.

— Hello, your excellency, — he said to the incoming Anatole and also held out his hand.

— I to you speak, Balaga, — said Anatole, placing his hand on his shoulder, — do you love me or not? Ah? Now serve and co-serve... in what kind has arrived? Ah?

— As an ambassador ordered, in you are beasts, — said Balaga.

— Well, do you hear, Balaga! Cut all three, but so if in three hours come. Ah?

— As cut, what rides in? — said Balaga, winking.

— Well, I will break your face, do not joke! — suddenly, rolling out eyes, shouted Anatole.

— What is a joke, — chuckling said the driver. — Don't I for my gentlemen pity? What may gallop horses, that I will go.

— Ah! — said Anatole. — Well sit down.

— What, sit down! — said Dolohov.

— I will stand, Fedor Ivanovich.

— Sit down, lie, drink, — said Anatole and poured him a big glass of madeira. The eyes of the coachman lit up at the wine. Refused for decency, he drank and wiped off with a silk red handkerchief, which lied on his hat.

— What, and when to go, your excellency?

— Yes here... (Anatole looked at his watch) Now go. Look again, Balaga. Ah? Keep up?

— Yes as departure— whether you will be happy, but from what again not keep up? — said Balaga. — I delivered the same to Tver, in seven hours kept up. You remember I suppose, your excellency.

— Whether you know at Christmas from Tver I once rode, — said Anatole with a smile of memories, turning to Makarin, which with all his eyes tenderly watched Kuragin. — Whether you believe, Makarka, that the spirit seized as we flew. Entered into the wagon, through two carts jumped. Ah?

— Really the same horses were! — Balaga continued the story. — I then adhered the young to the brown harness, — he turned to Dolohov, — whether you believe, Fedor Ivanych, 60 versts the beasts flew; to keep it could not be, my hands were numb and there was frost. I threw the reins, held, as they say, your excellency, itself, so on the sleigh and fell down. So because that is not what to drive until the place it could not be. For three hours reported hell. Only the left had died.

556 quel pied, mon cher, quel regard! Une déesse!! (what a foot, my dear, what a look! A goddess!!)

Time: undefined, see previous chapter
Mentioned: several days before, at ten o'clock

Locations: Dolokhof's quarters (dropped in Briggs, Dunnigan, and Maude),
Mentioned: village of Kamenka (Kamienko in Dole), Warsaw highway (toward Warsaw in Dole. road to Warsaw in Bell. road to Warsaw in Pevear and Volokhonhsky), abroad, Moscow (added in Garnett and Bell early in the chapter.), Persian, Tver, Madeira (as in the wine. Uncapitalized in Garnett, Maude, and Mandelker), Siberia

Pevear and Volokhonsky Notes: The plan to "abduct" Natasha and Dolokhov attempt to stop Anatole from going through it.

A break in the narrative to introduce and describe Balaga the driver.

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 *):

Anatol Kuragin (also “your illustriousness”. also “another servant”)

His French Valet

Dolokhof (in the Balaga description, the names “Feodor Ivanuitch” (and later “Feodor Ivanovitch”, the rest of the translations not giving a variation) are given in Dole. These appear to be attached to Dolokhof. “Fiodr Ivanich”

in Edmonds. “Fyodr Ivanych” in Dunnigan.”Theodore Ivanych” in Maude. “Fyodor Ivanovitch” in Garnett. “Fyodor Ivanovich” in Briggs. “Fyodor Ivanych.” in Mandelker. “Fedor Ivanych” in Wiener. “Fedor Ivanovitch” in Bell.)

Sonya

Natasha

Khvostikof (“Hvostikov” in Edmonds and Garnett. “Khvostikov” in Dunnigan, Briggs, Wiener, and Maude. “Gvostikow” in Bell.)

Makarin (also “Makarka”. “Makarine” is the first name in Bell.)

Balaga

(also an “unfrocked pope”)

Abridged Versions: No break in Bell.
Gibian: Chapter 16.

Fuller: The two witnesses (Khvostikof and Makarin) are removed. The entirety of Anatole and Dolokhov’s argument about whether to go through with it is removed. A little bit of Bagala’s description is removed, but most of it is
kept. The ending of the chapter, where Bagala rants about the horses, is also removed, cutting off after Anatole saying he might “slaughter all three of them”. No break.

Komroff: Anatole and Dolohov’s argument is removed. The conversation Bagala and his rant about the horses is removed. Line break.

Kropotkin: Chapter 11: Chapter is preserved.

Bromfield: Chapter 15: We follow Pierre, get his ambivalent feelings and him confronting Anatole, who somehow brags and denies the whole thing. There is a short episode of Pierre paying the gypsy Ilyushka and then
meeting Sonya and the old count. He then speaks with Natasha and has a very similar conversation with her that he has after the failed abduction in the latter version. Pierre then goes to the club then back home to see
Anatole, who he has to wait for. He then confronts Anatole as he does in the latter version and makes him leave, meaning we get no attempted abduction, no breaking of the proposal from Natasha, nor her attempted
suicide (as well as Pierre’s comforting words and the seeing of the comet). This ends Part Five.
Simmons: Chapter 16: entire chapter is cut and replaced with "Dolokhov arranges a plan for Anatole to elope with Natasha, perform a mock marriage, and escape abroad with her."

Additional Notes:

Dead Souls (Meyer/Garnett): Xxii: “Nozdryov then calls Tchitchikov a spy and forger who’s planning to abduct the governor’s daughter. He’s also compared to the demonic Antichrist and to the demonized Napoleon.” Xxiii: In early-nineteenth-century Russia...people averaged 8 miles an hour in carriages and carts...In Dead Souls the rough logs of a bridge “hop up and down like the keys of a piano.” (p.112), causing the traveler to bump the back of his head and bruise his forehead. Tchitchikov is relieved when he passes from the hard cobblestones of the town to the soft earthen roads of the countryside. Despite all the hardships and accidents, Gogol exclaims that Russians love rapid driving.” Xxiv: “There are...two carriage accidents”