Briggs: Departure of the French. Pierre's group is marched away.
Pevear and Volokhonsky (chapters 13-14): The French depart with their prisoners. They pass through burnt Moscow. Looters' carts clog the streets. Rough treatment of prisoners. Pierre's laughter.
Translation:
XIII.
In the night from the 6th to the 7th of October started to move the speaking French: breaking kitchens, booths, fitting wagons, and moving troops and wagons.
At seven in the morning the convoy of the French, in campaign form, in shakos, with guns, knapsacks and huge bags, stood before the booths, and the French, in a lively dialect, interspersed with curses, rolled by throughout the lines.
In the booth all were ready, dressed, belted, shod and were waiting only for orders to exit. The sick soldier Sokolov, pale, lean, with blue circles around his eyes, alone, not shod and not dressed, sat in his location, and rolling out from the thinness of his eyes interrogatively watched the not converting to his attention friends and did not loudly and evenly moan. Apparently not so much the misery — he was ill from bloody diarrhea— as much as the fear and grief of staying alone, forced him to moan.
Pierre, shod in shoes sewn for him by Karataev from boxes, which the French brought for binding their soles, belted by a rope, came up to the sick and sat down before him in a squat.
— What the same, Sokolov, they are not really going away! In them here are state hospitals. Maybe, you will still be better, — said Pierre.
— Oh Lord! Oh my death! Oh Lord! — louder groaned the soldier.
— Yes I now will ask them again, — said Pierre and, lifting, went to the door of the booth. In that time as Pierre approached to the door, outside approaching with two soldiers was that сorporal, which yesterday treated Pierre to a pipe. The сorporal and the soldiers were in campaign form, in satchels and shakos with buttoned scales, changing their acquaintances’ faces.
The сorporal was walking to the door with that, so that by the order of the superiors to close it. Before the issue the need was to recalculate the captives.
— Corporal, what to do with the sick?..961 — started Pierre; but in that moment, as he spoke this, he doubted whether this was the familiar to him сorporal or another unknown person: so not looking like himself was the сorporal in this moment. Besides that moment, as Pierre spoke this, from two parties suddenly was heard the crackle of drums. The сorporal frowned at the words of Pierre and, having spoken a senseless swear word, slammed shut the door. In the booth it had become half dark; from two parties abruptly cracked drums, drowning out the moans of the sick.
"Here it is!.. Again it is!" said Pierre to himself, and an involuntary cold ran by his back. In the changed face of the сorporal, in the sound of his voice, in the exciting and drowning out crash of drums Pierre found out that mysterious, indifferent force, which forced people against their commitment to mortify themselves similar, that force of action which he saw in the time of execution. To be afraid, to try to avoid this force, to handle with the requests or admonitions to people that served as weapons of it, was useless. This knew now Pierre. It was needed to wait and stand. Pierre did not come up more to the sick and did not turn back to him. He, silently, frowning, stood at the door of the booth.
When the door of the booth opened, and the captives, as a flock of rams, crushing each other, crowded at the output, Pierre broke through forward of them and came up to that very captain, whom, by the assurance of the сorporal, was ready to do all for Pierre. The captain also was in campaign form, and from his cold face also looked the "it", which Pierre found out in the words of the сorporal and in the crash of the drums.
— Come through, come through.962 — sentenced the captain, strictly frowning and looking at the crowded past him captives. Pierre knew that he will try in vain, but came up to him.
— Well, what again?— coldly looking back, as would not upon learning, said the officer. Pierre talked about the sick.
— He will go, damn take it! — said the captain. — Come through, come through,— he continued to sentence, not looking at Pierre.
— And not the same, he dies...— was starting Pierre.
— You go to...963 — viciously frowning, shouted the captain.
Dram yes yes give, give, give, cracked the drums. And Pierre got that the mysterious power now quite controlled these people and that to speak more now something was useless.
The captive officers were separated from the soldiers, and ordered them to go ahead. The officers, in the number of which was Pierre, was 30 people, the soldiers 300 people.
The captive officers, issued from other booths, were all strangers, were much better dressed than Pierre, and looked at him, at his shoes, with incredulity and alienation. Near from Pierre, was walking to apparently employ the common respect of his friends a thick major captive in a Kazan smock, belted with a towel, with a plump, yellow, angry face. He with one hand held behind his bosom a pouch, the other relied on the shank. The major, panting and puffing, grumbled and angered in all behind that to him it seemed that his push and that all were in a hurry, when making haste nowhere, all for some reason amazed, when in nothing in that is surprising. Another little, lean officer with all began talking, making assumptions about where they are led now, and as long away they had time to take the current day. The civil servant, in knitted boots and commissariat form, ran in from different parties and looked out at the burnt out Moscow, loudly informing his security about what burned and how was that or this visible part of Moscow. The third officer, of Polish origin by accent, argued with the commissariat officer, proving to him that he was mistaken in the defining quarters of Moscow.
— About what do you argue? — angrily spoke the major. — Whether it is Nikolay, whether it is Vlas, all is another; see, all is burned, well and the end...that pushing, aren’t the roads little, — he turned angrily to the going back and was quite not pushing him.
— Oh, oh, oh, what have they done! — however was heard from that with other parties the voice of the captives, looking around the fires. Zamoskvoretsky, Zubova, and at the Kremlin... See, half is not. Yes I spoke to you that all Zamoskvoretsky, out so and is.
— Well, know that the burned, well about that same interpret! — spoke the major.
Passing through Hamovnika (one of the few, unburned quarters of Moscow) by the churches, all the crowd of captives suddenly shook to one side, and was heard an exclamation of horror and disgust.
— See the bastards! That is unchristian! Yes dead, dead and is... smeared with something.
Pierre also moved to the churches, at which was that what called the exclamations, and vaguely saw something lean to the fence of the church. From the words of his friends, who saw better than him, he found out that this something was the body of a man, posed upright at the walls and smeared with soot on his face.
— Go! Go! Hell! Devils!..964 — was heard the swear words of the convoy, and the French soldiers with a new bitterness dispersed with knives the crowd of captives, watching the dead man.
961 Caporal, que fera-t-on du malade?... (Corporal, what will be done with the sick?...)
962 Filеz, filez, (Go, go,)
963 Eh bien, qu’est ce qu’il y a? —Il pourra marcher, que diable! —Filez, filez, — Mais non, il est à l’agonie...— Voulez vous bien!?.. (Well, what is it? "He will be able to walk, what the devil!" —Go, go, -But no, he is in agony ... - Will you please!? ..)
964 Marchez, sacré nom... Filez... trente mille diables... (Walk, sacred name...go...thirty thousand devils...)
Locations: see previous chapter, Moscow, Khamovniki
Mentioned: French, Kazan, Polish, St. Nicholas, St. Blasius (St. Vlas in Briggs, Garnett, and Pevear and Volokhonsky.), Transmoskva, Zubovo (Zubova in Mandelker. Cut in Bell.), Kremlin
Pevear and Volokhonsky Notes: The French now begin to leave. Pierre asks a corporal what will happen to the sick soldier and he "recognized that mysterious, indifferent force that made people kill their own kind against their will, that force the effect of which he had seen during the execution." Pierre realizes that it is useless to fight against this force and try to talk to the soldiers. They start to march and the soldiers break up a crowd that gathers around a dead man.
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 *):
Sokolof (also the "sick soldier")
Pierre
Karatayef
Abridged Versions: Start of Chapter 8 in Bell. No break at the end of the chapter.
Gibian: line break instead of chapter break.
Fuller: The discussion of the sick soldier is cut, moving directly from the soldiers beginning to retreat to the argument over whether it is worth talking about what has burned. The killed person who becomes the victim of gawking is removed. No break.
Komroff: Other than an occasional detail or shortened description, the chapter is preserved.
Kropotkin: Chapter 4: The chapter ends early, without a line break, after Pierre realized that the force was in full possession and fighting against it is impossible. This removes a lot of the fighting as things get clogged up.
Simmons: The chapter cuts off a little early, with a line break, before the discussion of what all had burned and the smeared dead man.
Edmundson: Act 4 Scene 16: Pierre, Platon, and a prisoner discuss the French retreat and how they will be shot if left behind. Platon is nearly too weak to go on and Pierre fails in trying to convince a soldier to let him stay.
Additional Notes:
Additional Notes:
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