Book Eight: 1811-12 - Chapter VIII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　That evening the Rostovs went to the Opera, for which MaryaDmitrievna had taken a box.

　　Natasha did not want to go, but could not refuse MaryaDmitrievna's kind offer which was intended expressly for her. When shecame ready dressed into the ballroom to await her father, andlooking in the large mirror there saw that she was pretty, verypretty, she felt even more sad, but it was a sweet, tender sadness.

　　"O God, if he were here now I would not behave as I did then, butdifferently. I would not be silly and afraid of things, I would simplyembrace him, cling to him, and make him look at me with thosesearching inquiring eyes with which he has so often looked at me,and then I would make him laugh as he used to laugh. And his eyes- howI see those eyes!" thought Natasha. "And what do his father and sistermatter to me? I love him alone, him, him, with that face and thoseeyes, with his smile, manly and yet childlike.... No, I had better notthink of him; not think of him but forget him, quite forget him forthe present. I can't bear this waiting and I shall cry in a minute!"and she turned away from the glass, making an effort not to cry."And how can Sonya love Nicholas so calmly and quietly and wait solong and so patiently?" thought she, looking at Sonya, who also camein quite ready, with a fan in her hand. "No, she's altogetherdifferent. I can't!"

　　Natasha at that moment felt so softened and tender that it was notenough for her to love and know she was beloved, she wanted now, atonce, to embrace the man she loved, to speak and hear from him wordsof love such as filled her heart. While she sat in the carriage besideher father, pensively watching the lights of the street lampsflickering on the frozen window, she felt still sadder and more inlove, and forgot where she was going and with whom. Having fallen intothe line of carriages, the Rostovs' carriage drove up to thetheater, its wheels squeaking over the snow. Natasha and Sonya,holding up their dresses, jumped out quickly. The count got out helpedby the footmen, and, passing among men and women who were entering andthe program sellers, they all three went along the corridor to thefirst row of boxes. Through the closed doors the music was alreadyaudible.

　　"Natasha, your hair!..." whispered Sonya.

　　An attendant deferentially and quickly slipped before the ladies andopened the door of their box. The music sounded louder and through thedoor rows of brightly lit boxes in which ladies sat with bare arms andshoulders, and noisy stalls brilliant with uniforms, glitteredbefore their eyes. A lady entering the next box shot a glance offeminine envy at Natasha. The curtain had not yet risen and theoverture was being played. Natasha, smoothing her gown, went in withSonya and sat down, scanning the brilliant tiers of boxes opposite.A sensation she had not experienced for a long time- that ofhundreds of eyes looking at her bare arms and neck- suddenlyaffected her both agreeably and disagreeably and called up a wholecrowd of memories, desires and emotions associated with that feeling.

　　The two remarkably pretty girls, Natasha and Sonya, with CountRostov who had not been seen in Moscow for a long time, attractedgeneral attention. Moreover, everybody knew vaguely of Natasha'sengagement to Prince Andrew, and knew that the Rostovs had lived inthe country ever since, and all looked with curiosity at a fiancee whowas making one of the best matches in Russia.

　　Natasha's looks, as everyone told her, had improved in thecountry, and that evening thanks to her agitation she was particularlypretty. She struck those who saw her by her fullness of life andbeauty, combined with her indifference to everything about her. Herblack eyes looked at the crowd without seeking anyone, and herdelicate arm, bare to above the elbow, lay on the velvet edge of thebox, while, evidently unconsciously, she opened and closed her hand intime to the music, crumpling her program. "Look, there's Alenina,"said Sonya, "with her mother, isn't it?"

　　"Dear me, Michael Kirilovich has grown still stouter!" remarkedthe count.

　　"Look at our Anna Mikhaylovna- what a headdress she has on!"

　　"The Karagins, Julie- and Boris with them. One can see at oncethat they're engaged...."

　　"Drubetskoy has proposed?"

　　"Oh yes, I heard it today," said Shinshin, coming into theRostovs' box.

　　Natasha looked in the direction in which her father's eyes wereturned and saw Julie sitting beside her mother with a happy look onher face and a string of pearls round her thick red neck- whichNatasha knew was covered with powder. Behind them, wearing a smile andleaning over with an ear to Julie's mouth, was Boris' handsomesmoothly brushed head. He looked the Rostovs from under his browsand said something, smiling, to his betrothed.

　　"They are talking about us, about me and him!" thought Natasha. "Andhe no doubt is calming her jealousy of me. They needn't troublethemselves! If only they knew how little I am concerned about any ofthem."

　　Behind them sat Anna Mikhaylovna wearing a green headdress andwith a happy look of resignation to the will of God on her face. Theirbox was pervaded by that atmosphere of an affianced couple whichNatasha knew so well and liked so much. She turned away and suddenlyremembered all that had been so humiliating in her morning's visit.

　　"What right has he not to wish to receive me into his family? Oh,better not think of it- not till he comes back!" she told herself, andbegan looking at the faces, some strange and some familiar, in thestalls. In the front, in the very center, leaning back against theorchestra rail, stood Dolokhov in a Persian dress, his curly hairbrushed up into a huge shock. He stood in full view of the audience,well aware that he was attracting everyone's attention, yet as much atease as though he were in his own room. Around him thronged Moscow'smost brilliant young men, whom he evidently dominated.

　　The count, laughing, nudged the blushing Sonya and pointed to herformer adorer.

　　"Do you recognize him?" said he. "And where has he sprung from?"he asked, turning to Shinshin. "Didn't he vanish somewhere?"

　　"He did," replied Shinshin. "He was in the Caucasus and ran awayfrom there. They say he has been acting as minister to some rulingprince in Persia, where he killed the Shah's brother. Now all theMoscow ladies are mad about him! It's 'Dolokhov the Persian' that doesit! We never hear a word but Dolokhov is mentioned. They swear by him,they offer him to you as they would a dish of choice sterlet. Dolokhovand Anatole Kuragin have turned all our ladies' heads."

　　A tall, beautiful woman with a mass of plaited hair and much exposedplump white shoulders and neck, round which she wore a double stringof large pearls, entered the adjoining box rustling her heavy silkdress and took a long time settling into her place.

　　Natasha involuntarily gazed at that neck, those shoulders, andpearls and coiffure, and admired the beauty of the shoulders and thepearls. While Natasha was fixing her gaze on her for the second timethe lady looked round and, meeting the count's eyes, nodded to him andsmiled. She was the Countess Bezukhova, Pierre's wife, and thecount, who knew everyone in society, leaned over and spoke to her.

　　"Have you been here long, Countess?" he inquired. "I'll call, I'llcall to kiss your hand. I'm here on business and have brought my girlswith me. They say Semenova acts marvelously. Count Pierre never usedto forget us. Is he here?"

　　"Yes, he meant to look in," answered Helene, and glanced attentivelyat Natasha.

　　Count Rostov resumed his seat.

　　"Handsome, isn't she?" he whispered to Natasha.

　　"Wonderful!" answered Natasha. "She's a woman one could easilyfall in love with."

　　Just then the last chords of the overture were heard and theconductor tapped with his stick. Some latecomers took their seats inthe stalls, and the curtain rose.

　　As soon as it rose everyone in the boxes and stalls became silent,and all the men, old and young, in uniform and evening dress, andall the women with gems on their bare flesh, turned their wholeattention with eager curiosity to the stage. Natasha too began to lookat it.