Maude: Pierre at the Rostovs'. Natasha again takes up her singing. Sonya reads Alexander's manifesto. Petya declares that he will enter the army. Natasha realizes that Pierre loves her. He decides to cease going to the Rostovs'
Briggs: Petya is keen on the army. Pierre decides to stop visiting Natasha.
Pevear and Volokhonsky: Pierre brings the Rostovs the emperor's manifesto. Petya wants to enlist but the old count says no. Pierre decides to stop visiting the Rostovs.
Translation:
XX.
At the Rostovs, as always by Sundays, dined some with loved ones and acquaintances.
Pierre had arrived earlier, so that to catch them alone.
Pierre behind this year became so fat that he would be ugly, if he was not so great by height, with big members and was not so strong that he obviously easily carried his thickness.
He, panting and muttering something about himself, entered onto the stairs. His coachman now did not ask whether to wait. He knew that when the count was at the Rostovs, that was until the 12th hour. The lackeys of the Rostovs happily threw to take off his cloak from him and took his stick and hat. Pierre, by habit of the club, had his stick and hat left in the front.
The first face, which he saw at the Rostovs, was Natasha. Still before that he saw her, he, taking off his cloak at the front, heard her. She sang a solfege in the hall. He knew that she had not sang with the time of her disease, and because of it the sound of her voice amazed and gladdened him. He quietly opened the door and saw Natasha in her purple dress, in which she was in at mass, strolling by the room and singing. She went backwards to him, when he opened the door, but when she coolly turned and saw his thick, surprised face, she blushed and quickly came up to him.
— I want to taste again singing, — she said. — All the same this occupation, — she added, as if in excuse.
— And perfectly.
— How I am happy that you have arrived! I now am so happy! — she said with that same revival, which now for a long time Pierre had not seen in her. — You know, Nicolas received the George cross. I am so proud for him.
— As the same, I sent the order. Well, I do not want to interfere with you, — he added, and wanted to take into the living room.
Natasha stopped him.
— Count! What, this is bad, that I sing? — she said, blushing, but, not lowering her eyes, interrogatively looking at Pierre.
— No... from what the same? The opposite... but from what do you ask me?
— I myself do not know, — quickly answered Natasha, — but I would not want to do anything that you do not like. I believe you in all. You do not know, how you for me are important and how much you have done for me!... — she said quickly and did not notice how Pierre was red at these words. — I see in the same order he, Bolkonsky (quickly whisperingly she spoke this word), — he is in Russia and again serves. So do you think, — she said quickly, apparently in a hurry speaking because of how she was afraid for her forces, — he forgives at sometime? Will not he have against me an evil feeling? So do you think? So do you think?
— I think... — said Pierre. — There is nothing for him to forgive... if I was in his location... — by the communication of memories, Pierre instantly carried over his imagination to that time, when he, consoling her, said to her that if he was not he, but the best person in the world and free, that he on a knee would request her hand, and that same feeling of pity, tenderness, and love overcame him, and those same words were in his mouth. Yet she did not give him time to say them.
— Yes you — you, — she said, with delight pronouncing this word you, — are another business. Kinder, more generous, better than you man I do not know, and there may not be. If you were not so, yes now, I do not know what would be with me, because of how... — tears suddenly poured in her eyes; she turned, raised the notes to her eyes, sang and went again walking by the hall.
At this same time from the living room ran out Petya.
Petya was now a nice, rosy, fifteen-year-old boy with thick, red lips, similar to Natasha. He prepared for university, but in the latter time, with his friend Obolensky, secretly decided that they will go to the hussars.
Petya jumped out to his namesake, so that to talk about the case.
He requested him to know whether he was accepted in the hussars.
Pierre was walking by the living room, not listening to Petya.
Petya yanked him behind the arm, so to turn in himself his attention.
— Well what is my business, Petr Kirilych, for God! The only hope is in you, — spoke Petya.
— Ah yes, your business. In the hussars? Say, say. Now say all.
— Well what, dear,616 well what, got the manifesto? — asked the old count. — But the countess was at mass at Razumovsky’s, a new prayer was heard. Very nice, they say.
— Took out, — was the response of Pierre. — Tomorrow the sovereign will... gather the extraordinary nobleman and, they say, by ten thousand set. And, congratulations to you.
— Yes, yes, thank God. Well, but what from the army?
— Ours again retreated. Below Smolensk now, they say, — was the response of Pierre.
— My God, my God! — said the count. — Where again is the manifesto?
— The appeal! Ah, yes! — Pierre had begun in his pockets to search for papers and could not find them. Must slapping his pockets, he kissed the hand of the entering Countess and anxiously looked around, obviously expecting Natasha, who did not sing more, but did not come into the living room.
— By God, I do not know where I cased it, — he said.
— Well really forever will lose all, — said the countess. Natasha entered with a softened, thrilled face and sat, silently looking at Pierre. Only as she entered into the room, the face of Pierre, before this cloudy, came out, and he, must looking for the paperwork, a few times looked at her.
— By God, I will go, I at home forgot it. Indispensable...
— Well, to dinner it's late.
— Ah, and the coachman left. — but Sonya, going into the hall to search for the paperwork, found it in the hat of Pierre, where he carefully laid them behind the lining. Pierre was wanted to read.
— No, after dinner, — said the old count, apparently in this reading foreseeing great pleasure.
Behind dinner, behind which champagne was drank for the health of the new George cavalier, Shinshin talked of the urban news about the disease of old Georgian princesses, about how Metivier disappeared from Moscow, and about how to Rastopchin was brought some German and declared to him that this champignon (so talked Count Rastopchin himself), and as Count Rastopchin told champignon to let go, said to people that this is not a champignon, but simply an old mushroom German.
— Seize, seize, — said the count, — I to the countess told to slightly less speak by French. Now is not the time.
— But have you heard? — said Shinshin. — Prince Golitsyn takes a Russian teacher, — to teach Russian — it becomes dangerous to speak French on the street.617
— Well what the same, Count Petr Kirilych, as you collect that militia, will you work on a horse? — said the old count, turning to Pierre.
Pierre was silent and thoughtful in all the time of this dinner. He, as would not understanding, looked at the count at this outstanding.
— Yes, yes, to war, — he said, — No! What a warrior I am! — But however all is so weird, so weird! Yes and I myself do not understand. I do not know, I am so far away from military flavors, but in the current time nothing for myself I may respond.
After lunch the count sat down quietly in his chair and with a severe face asked Sonya, famous for mastery in reading, to read.
"The throne of our capital Moscow.
"The enemy entered with great forces in the limits of Russia. He is going to ravage our kind fatherland," carefully read Sonya with her thin voice. The count, closing his eyes, listened, impulsively sighing in some places.
Natasha sat, stretched out, probingly all looking at her father, then at Pierre.
Pierre felt in himself her look and tried to not look back. The countess disapprovingly and angrily rocked her head against each solemn expression of the manifesto. She in all these words saw only that danger, threatening her son, still did not soon stop. Shinshin, folding his mouth in a mocking smile, obviously prepared to mock above that, what first presented for ridicule: above by the reading Sonya, above that what will say the count, even above the very proclamation, should it not present better pretext.
Reading about the dangers threatening Russia, about the hopes, assigned to the sovereign in Moscow, and in particular to the famous nobility, Sonya with a trembling voice, happening predominantly from the attention with which she was listened to, read the last words: "We do not slow down themselves to become in the middle of the people in this capital and in other states of our places for the meetings and guides by all our militias, as now obstructing the way of the enemy, so and again arranged in defeat of it everywhere, where they only appear. Yes turn death, in which he imagines to throw us down, in his head, and release from the slavery of Europe and exalt the name of Russia!"
— Here this is so! — cried out the count, opening a wet eye and a few times interrupting from sniffles, as if to his nose he brought a glass with strong vinegar salt. — Only say the sovereign, we to all donate and pity nothing.
Shinshin still did not have time to say his prepared thing to the patriotism of the count, as Natasha jumped up from her place and ran up to her father.
— What is behind the beauty of this papa! — she spoke, kissing him, and she again looked at Pierre with that unconscious coquetry, which returned to her together with her revival.
— Here is such a patriot! — said Shinshin.
— Really not a patriot, but simply... — offendedly answered Natasha. — You all are funny, but this is really not a joke...
— What jokes! — repeated the count. — Only he says the word, we all go... we are not some Germans...
— But you noticed, — said Pierre, — that it said: "for meetings."
— Well really there for what would be...
At this time Petya, whom no one turned attention to, came up to his father and, all red, breaking that rude, thin voice, said:
— Well now, daddy, I resolutely say — and Mama too, how I want to — I resolutely say that you let me go in military service, because of how I cannot... here and all...
The countess with horror raised eye to sky, splashed her hands and angrily turned to the husband:
— Here and finished talking! — she said.
But the count in that same moment recovered from excitement.
— Well, well, — he said. — Here a warrior still! You need to learn to leave that nonsense.
— This is not nonsense, daddy. Obelensky Fedya is younger than me and also is going, but the main thing, all I care, I can not learn anything now, when... — Petya had stopped, red to sweat and spoke the same: — when the fatherland is in danger.
— Fully, fully, nonsense...
— And because you yourself have said that to all you will donate.
— Petya! I to you speak, silent, — shouted the count, looking back at his wife, who, becoming pale, watched with stopped eyes at the younger son.
— But I speak to you. Here and Petr Kirillovich will say...
— I to you speak — nonsense, still milk is not dried up, but in military service you want to! Well, well, I speak to you, — and the count, taking with himself the paperwork, probably so to another time read in the office before rest, went from the room.
— Petr Kirillovich, what but to go smoke...
Pierre was found in confusion and indecision. The unusually brilliant and lively eyes of Natasha incessantly, more than affectionately addressing him, brought him to this state.
— No, I, it seems, ride to home...
— How home, and you a night at ours would like... and that seldom comes to visit. But this my... — said the count good-naturedly, pointing at Natasha, — only in you has fun...
— Yes, I forgot... I indispensably need to go home... affairs... — hastily said Pierre.
— Well so goodbye, — said the count, really going away from the room.
— From what do you go away? From what are you disturbed? From what?... — Natasha asked Pierre, defiantly looking him in the eye.
"Because of how I love you!" he wanted to say, but he did not say this, to tears was red and lowered his eyes.
— Because of how I better rarely visit you... because... no, simply my affairs...
— From what? No, speak, — resolutely was beginning Natasha and suddenly fell silent. They both scaredly and embarrassedly looked at each other. He tried to chuckle, but could not: his smile expressed suffering, and he silently kissed her hand and got out.
Pierre decided to himself by himself not to visit more at the Rostovs.
616 mоn cher, (my dear)
617 il commence à devenir dangereux de parler français dans les rues. (it begins to become dangerous to speak French in the streets.)
Time: Sunday, dinner, after dinner
Mentioned: to-morrow
Locations: the Rostofs' house
Mentioned: Russia (also Russian), Razumovski chapel, Smolensk, German, Europe
Pevear and Volokhonsky Notes: Pierre visits the Rostovs again, with the detail that he has gotten fatter. Natasha has started to sing again and has a conversation with Pierre about whether it is wrong for her to sing. “I wouldn’t want to do anything that you wouldn’t like. I trust you in everything.”
with no regrets….We’re not some sort of Germans…”
longer appropriate to visit the Rostovs.
Kirillovitch”, as he has been called before.)
Gibian: Chapter 20.
about speaking French is removed. Other than the occasional detail like this, the chapter is otherwise is preserved.
Simmons: Chapter 20: The looking for the manifesto and the dinner before the reading is removed. Shinshin is removed and the discussion of the manifesto is shortened.
but simply an old German toadstool.” Wiener has footnote: “The Russian word for “spy” is shpion, which the common people mispronounced as “champignon”.” Bell removes the joke and only communicates that the
German was released.
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