Book Seven: 1810-11 - Chapter X

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Does it ever happen to you," said Natasha to her brother, whenthey settled down in the sitting room, "does it ever happen to youto feel as if there were nothing more to come- nothing; thateverything good is past? And to feel not exactly dull, but sad?"

　　"I should think so!" he replied. "I have felt like that wheneverything was all right and everyone was cheerful. The thought hascome into my mind that I was already tired of it all, and that we mustall die. Once in the regiment I had not gone to some merrymaking wherethere was music... and suddenly I felt so depressed..."

　　"Oh yes, I know, I know, I know!" Natasha interrupted him. "When Iwas quite little that used to be so with me. Do you remember when Iwas punished once about some plums? You were all dancing, and I satsobbing in the schoolroom? I shall never forget it: I felt sad andsorry for everyone, for myself, and for everyone. And I wasinnocent- that was the chief thing," said Natasha. "Do you remember?"

　　"I remember," answered Nicholas. "I remember that I came to youafterwards and wanted to comfort you, but do you know, I feltashamed to. We were terribly absurd. I had a funny doll then andwanted to give it to you. Do you remember?"

　　"And do you remember," Natasha asked with a pensive smile, "howonce, long, long ago, when we were quite little, Uncle called usinto the study- that was in the old house- and it was dark- we went inand suddenly there stood..."

　　"A Negro," chimed in Nicholas with a smile of delight. "Of courseI remember. Even now I don't know whether there really was a Negro, orif we only dreamed it or were told about him."

　　"He was gray, you remember, and had white teeth, and stood andlooked at us..."

　　"Sonya, do you remember?" asked Nicholas.

　　"Yes, yes, I do remember something too," Sonya answered timidly.

　　"You know I have asked Papa and Mamma about that Negro," saidNatasha, "and they say there was no Negro at all. But you see, youremember!"

　　"Of course I do, I remember his teeth as if I had just seen them."

　　"How strange it is! It's as if it were a dream! I like that."

　　"And do you remember how we rolled hard-boiled eggs in the ballroom,and suddenly two old women began spinning round on the carpet? Wasthat real or not? Do you remember what fun it was?"

　　"Yes, and you remember how Papa in his blue overcoat fired a gunin the porch?"

　　So they went through their memories, smiling with pleasure: notthe sad memories of old age, but poetic, youthful ones- thoseimpressions of one's most distant past in which dreams and realitiesblend- and they laughed with quiet enjoyment.

　　Sonya, as always, did not quite keep pace with them, though theyshared the same reminiscences.

　　Much that they remembered had slipped from her mind, and what sherecalled did not arouse the same poetic feeling as they experienced.She simply enjoyed their pleasure and tried to fit in with it.

　　She only really took part when they recalled Sonya's firstarrival. She told them how afraid she had been of Nicholas becausehe had on a corded jacket and her nurse had told her that she, too,would be sewn up with cords.

　　"And I remember their telling me that you had been born under acabbage," said Natasha, and I remember that I dared not disbelieveit then, but knew that it was not true, and I felt so uncomfortable."

　　While they were talking a maid thrust her head in at the otherdoor of the sitting room.

　　"They have brought the cock, Miss," she said in a whisper.

　　"It isn't wanted, Petya. Tell them to take it away," repliedNatasha.

　　In the middle of their talk in the sitting room, Dimmler came in andwent up to the harp that stood there in a corner. He took off itscloth covering, and the harp gave out a jarring sound.

　　"Mr. Dimmler, please play my favorite nocturne by Field," came theold countess' voice from the drawing room.

　　Dimmler struck a chord and, turning to Natasha, Nicholas, and Sonya,remarked: "How quiet you young people are!"

　　"Yes, we're philosophizing," said Natasha, glancing round for amoment and then continuing the conversation. They were nowdiscussing dreams.

　　Dimmler began to play; Natasha went on tiptoe noiselessly to thetable, took up a candle, carried it out, and returned, seating herselfquietly in her former place. It was dark in the room especiallywhere they were sitting on the sofa, but through the big windows thesilvery light of the full moon fell on the floor. Dimmler had finishedthe piece but still sat softly running his fingers over the strings,evidently uncertain whether to stop or to play something else.

　　"Do you know," said Natasha in a whisper, moving closer toNicholas and Sonya, "that when one goes on and on recallingmemories, one at last begins to remember what happened before onewas in the world..."

　　"That is metempsychosis," said Sonya, who had always learned well,and remembered everything. "The Egyptians believed that our souls havelived in animals, and will go back into animals again."

　　"No, I don't believe we ever were in animals," said Natasha, stillin a whisper though the music had ceased. "But I am certain that wewere angels somewhere there, and have been here, and that is why weremember...."

　　"May I join you?" said Dimmler who had come up quietly, and he satdown by them.

　　"If we have been angels, why have we fallen lower?" said Nicholas."No, that can't be!"

　　"Not lower, who said we were lower?... How do I know what I wasbefore?" Natasha rejoined with conviction. "The soul is immortal- wellthen, if I shall always live I must have lived before, lived for awhole eternity."

　　"Yes, but it is hard for us to imagine eternity," remarkedDimmler, who had joined the young folk with a mildly condescendingsmile but now spoke as quietly and seriously as they.

　　"Why is it hard to imagine eternity?" said Natasha. "It is nowtoday, and it will be tomorrow, and always; and there was yesterday,and the day before..."

　　"Natasha! Now it's your turn. Sing me something," they heard thecountess say. "Why are you sitting there like conspirators?"

　　"Mamma, I don't at all want to," replied Natasha, but all the sameshe rose.

　　None of them, not even the middle-aged Dimmler, wanted to breakoff their conversation and quit that corner in the sitting room, butNatasha got up and Nicholas sat down at the clavichord. Standing asusual in the middle of the hall and choosing the place where theresonance was best, Natasha began to sing her mother's favorite song.

　　She had said she did not want to sing, but it was long since she hadsung, and long before she again sang, as she did that evening. Thecount, from his study where he was talking to Mitenka, heard herand, like a schoolboy in a hurry to run out to play, blundered inhis talk while giving orders to the steward, and at last stopped,while Mitenka stood in front of him also listening and smiling.Nicholas did not take his eyes off his sister and drew breath intime with her. Sonya, as she listened, thought of the immensedifference there was between herself and her friend, and howimpossible it was for her to be anything like as bewitching as hercousin. The old countess sat with a blissful yet sad smile and withtears in her eyes, occasionally shaking her head. She thought ofNatasha and of her own youth, and of how there was something unnaturaland dreadful in this impending marriage of Natasha and Prince Andrew.

　　Dimmler, who had seated himself beside the countess, listened withclosed eyes.

　　"Ah, Countess," he said at last, "that's a European talent, shehas nothing to learn- what softness, tenderness, and strength...."

　　"Ah, how afraid I am for her, how afraid I am!" said the countess,not realizing to whom she was speaking. Her maternal instinct told herthat Natasha had too much of something, and that because of this shewould not be happy. Before Natasha had finished singing,fourteen-year-old Petya rushed in delightedly, to say that somemummers had arrived.

　　Natasha stopped abruptly.

　　"Idiot!" she screamed at her brother and, running to a chair,threw herself on it, sobbing so violently that she could not stopfor a long time.

　　"It's nothing, Mamma, really it's nothing; only Petya startledme," she said, trying to smile, but her tears still flowed and sobsstill choked her.

　　The mummers (some of the house serfs) dressed up as bears, Turks,innkeepers, and ladies- frightening and funny- bringing in with themthe cold from outside and a feeling of gaiety, crowded, at firsttimidly, into the anteroom, then hiding behind one another they pushedinto the ballroom where, shyly at first and then more and more merrilyand heartily, they started singing, dancing, and playing Christmasgames. The countess, when she had identified them and laughed at theircostumes, went into the drawing room. The count sat in the ballroom,smiling radiantly and applauding the players. The young people haddisappeared.

　　Half an hour later there appeared among the other mummers in theballroom an old lady in a hooped skirt- this was Nicholas. A Turkishgirl was Petya. A clown was Dimmler. An hussar was Natasha, and aCircassian was Sonya with burnt-cork mustache and eyebrows.

　　After the condescending surprise, nonrecognition, and praise, fromthose who were not themselves dressed up, the young people decidedthat their costumes were so good that they ought to be shownelsewhere.

　　Nicholas, who, as the roads were in splendid condition, wanted totake them all for a drive in his troyka, proposed to take with themabout a dozen of the serf mummers and drive to "Uncle's."

　　"No, why disturb the old fellow?" said the countess. "Besides, youwouldn't have room to turn round there. If you must go, go to theMelyukovs'"

　　Melyukova was a widow, who, with her family and their tutors andgovernesses, lived three miles from the Rostovs.

　　"That's right, my dear," chimed in the old count, thoroughlyaroused. "I'll dress up at once and go with them. I'll make Pashetteopen her eyes."

　　But the countess would not agree to his going; he had had a badleg all these last days. It was decided that the count must not go,but that if Louisa Ivanovna (Madame Schoss) would go with them, theyoung ladies might go to the Melyukovs', Sonya, generally so timid andshy, more urgently than anyone begging Louisa Ivanovna not to refuse.

　　Sonya's costume was the best of all. Her mustache and eyebrowswere extraordinarily becoming. Everyone told her she looked veryhandsome, and she was in a spirited and energetic mood unusual withher. Some inner voice told her that now or never her fate would bedecided, and in her male attire she seemed quite a different person.Louisa Ivanovna consented to go, and in half an hour four troykasleighs with large and small bells, their runners squeaking andwhistling over the frozen snow, drove up to the porch.

　　Natasha was foremost in setting a merry holiday tone, which, passingfrom one to another, grew stronger and stronger and reached its climaxwhen they all came out into the frost and got into the sleighs,talking, calling to one another, laughing, and shouting.

　　Two of the troykas were the usual household sleighs, the third wasthe old count's with a trotter from the Orlov stud as shaft horse, thefourth was Nicholas' own with a short shaggy black shaft horse.Nicholas, in his old lady's dress over which he had belted hishussar overcoat, stood in the middle of the sleigh, reins in hand.

　　It was so light that he could see the moonlight reflected from themetal harness disks and from the eyes of the horses, who lookedround in alarm at the noisy party under the shadow of the porch roof.

　　Natasha, Sonya, Madame Schoss, and two maids got into Nicholas'sleigh; Dimmler, his wife, and Petya, into the old count's, and therest of the mummers seated themselves in the other two sleighs.

　　"You go ahead, Zakhar!" shouted Nicholas to his father's coachman,wishing for a chance to race past him.

　　The old count's troyka, with Dimmler and his party, started forward,squeaking on its runners as though freezing to the snow, itsdeep-toned bell clanging. The side horses, pressing against the shaftsof the middle horse, sank in the snow, which was dry and glitteredlike sugar, and threw it up.

　　Nicholas set off, following the first sleigh; behind him theothers moved noisily, their runners squeaking. At first they droveat a steady trot along the narrow road. While they drove past thegarden the shadows of the bare trees often fell across the road andhid the brilliant moonlight, but as soon as they were past thefence, the snowy plain bathed in moonlight and motionless spread outbefore them glittering like diamonds and dappled with bluishshadows. Bang, bang! went the first sleigh over a cradle hole in thesnow of the road, and each of the other sleighs jolted in the sameway, and rudely breaking the frost-bound stillness, the troykasbegan to speed along the road, one after the other.

　　"A hare's track, a lot of tracks!" rang out Natasha's voicethrough the frost-bound air.

　　"How light it is, Nicholas!" came Sonya's voice.

　　Nicholas glanced round at Sonya, and bent down to see her facecloser. Quite a new, sweet face with black eyebrows and mustachespeeped up at him from her sable furs- so close and yet so distant-in the moonlight.

　　"That used to be Sonya," thought he, and looked at her closer andsmiled.

　　"What is it, Nicholas?"

　　"Nothing," said he and turned again to the horses.

　　When they came out onto the beaten highroad- polished by sleighrunners and cut up by rough-shod hoofs, the marks of which werevisible in the moonlight- the horses began to tug at the reins oftheir own accord and increased their pace. The near side horse,arching his head and breaking into a short canter, tugged at histraces. The shaft horse swayed from side to side, moving his ears asif asking: "Isn't it time to begin now?" In front, already far aheadthe deep bell of the sleigh ringing farther and farther off, the blackhorses driven by Zakhar could be clearly seen against the whitesnow. From that sleigh one could hear the shouts, laughter, and voicesof the mummers.

　　"Gee up, my darlings!" shouted Nicholas, pulling the reins to oneside and flourishing the whip.

　　It was only by the keener wind that met them and the jerks givenby the side horses who pulled harder- ever increasing their gallop-that one noticed how fast the troyka was flying. Nicholas looked back.With screams squeals, and waving of whips that caused even the shafthorses to gallop- the other sleighs followed. The shaft horse swungsteadily beneath the bow over its head, with no thought ofslackening pace and ready to put on speed when required.

　　Nicholas overtook the first sleigh. They were driving downhill andcoming out upon a broad trodden track across a meadow, near a river.

　　"Where are we?" thought he. "It's the Kosoy meadow, I suppose. Butno- this is something new I've never seen before. This isn't the Kosoymeadow nor the Demkin hill, and heaven only knows what it is! It issomething new and enchanted. Well, whatever it may be..." And shoutingto his horses, he began to pass the first sleigh.

　　Zakhar held back his horses and turned his face, which was alreadycovered with hoarfrost to his eyebrows.

　　Nicholas gave the horses the rein, and Zakhar, stretching out hisarms, clucked his tongue and let his horses go.

　　"Now, look out, master!" he cried.

　　Faster still the two troykas flew side by side, and faster moved thefeet of the galloping side horses. Nicholas began to draw ahead.Zakhar, while still keeping his arms extended, raised one hand withthe reins.

　　"No you won't, master!" he shouted.

　　Nicholas put all his horses to a gallop and passed Zakhar. Thehorses showered the fine dry snow on the faces of those in the sleigh-beside them sounded quick ringing bells and they caught confusedglimpses of swiftly moving legs and the shadows of the troyka theywere passing. The whistling sound of the runners on the snow and thevoices of girls shrieking were heard from different sides.

　　Again checking his horses, Nicholas looked around him. They werestill surrounded by the magic plain bathed in moonlight and spangledwith stars.

　　"Zakhar is shouting that I should turn to the left, but why to theleft?" thought Nicholas. "Are we getting to the Melyukovs'? Is thisMelyukovka? Heaven only knows where we are going, and heaven knowswhat is happening to us- but it is very strange and pleasantwhatever it is." And he looked round in the sleigh.

　　"Look, his mustache and eyelashes are all white!" said one of thestrange, pretty, unfamiliar people- the one with fine eyebrows andmustache.

　　"I think this used to be Natasha," thought Nicholas, "and that wasMadame Schoss, but perhaps it's not, and this Circassian with themustache I don't know, but I love her."

　　"Aren't you cold?" he asked.

　　They did not answer but began to laugh. Dimmler from the sleighbehind shouted something- probably something funny- but they could notmake out what he said.

　　"Yes, yes!" some voices answered, laughing.

　　"But here was a fairy forest with black moving shadows, and aglitter of diamonds and a flight of marble steps and the silverroofs of fairy buildings and the shrill yells of some animals. Andif this is really Melyukovka, it is still stranger that we droveheaven knows where and have come to Melyukovka," thought Nicholas.

　　It really was Melyukovka, and maids and footmen with merry facescame running, out to the porch carrying candles.

　　"Who is it?" asked someone in the porch.

　　"The mummers from the count's. I know by the horses," replied somevoices.