Book Six: 1808-10 - Chapter XXIII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Prince Andrew needed his father's consent to his marriage, and toobtain this he started for the country next day.

　　His father received his son's communication with external composure,but inward wrath. He could not comprehend how anyone could wish toalter his life or introduce anything new into it, when his own lifewas already ending. "If only they would let me end my days as I wantto," thought the old man, "then they might do as they please." Withhis son, however, he employed the diplomacy he reserved forimportant occasions and, adopting a quiet tone, discussed the wholematter.

　　In the first place the marriage was not a brilliant one as regardsbirth, wealth, or rank. Secondly, Prince Andrew was no longer as youngas he had been and his health was poor (the old man laid specialstress on this), while she was very young. Thirdly, he had a sonwhom it would be a pity to entrust to a chit of a girl. "Fourthlyand finally," the father said, looking ironically at his son, "I begyou to put it off for a year: go abroad, take a cure, look out asyou wanted to for a German tutor for Prince Nicholas. Then if yourlove or passion or obstinacy- as you please- is still as great, marry!And that's my last word on it. Mind, the last..." concluded theprince, in a tone which showed that nothing would make him alter hisdecision.

　　Prince Andrew saw clearly that the old man hoped that hisfeelings, or his fiancee's, would not stand a year's test, or thathe (the old prince himself) would die before then, and he decided toconform to his father's wish- to propose, and postpone the wedding fora year.

　　Three weeks after the last evening he had spent with the Rostovs,Prince Andrew returned to Petersburg.

　　Next day after her talk with her mother Natasha expected Bolkonskiall day, but he did not come. On the second and third day it was thesame. Pierre did not come either and Natasha, not knowing thatPrince Andrew had gone to see his father, could not explain hisabsence to herself.

　　Three weeks passed in this way. Natasha had no desire to go outanywhere and wandered from room to room like a shadow, idle andlistless; she wept secretly at night and did not go to her mother inthe evenings. She blushed continually and was irritable. It seemedto her that everybody knew about her disappointment and was laughingat her and pitying her. Strong as was her inward grief, this woundto her vanity intensified her misery.

　　Once she came to her mother, tried to say something, and suddenlybegan to cry. Her tears were those of an offended child who does notknow why it is being punished.

　　The countess began to soothe Natasha, who after first listening toher mother's words, suddenly interrupted her:

　　"Leave off, Mamma! I don't think, and don't want to think aboutit! He just came and then left off, left off..."

　　Her voice trembled, and she again nearly cried, but recovered andwent on quietly:

　　"And I don't at all want to get married. And I am afraid of him; Ihave now become quite calm, quite calm."

　　The day after this conversation Natasha put on the old dress whichshe knew had the peculiar property of conducing to cheerfulness in themornings, and that day she returned to the old way of life which shehad abandoned since the ball. Having finished her morning tea she wentto the ballroom, which she particularly liked for its loudresonance, and began singing her solfeggio. When she had finishedher first exercise she stood still in the middle of the room andsang a musical phrase that particularly pleased her. She listenedjoyfully (as though she had not expected it) to the charm of the notesreverberating, filling the whole empty ballroom, and slowly dyingaway; and all at once she felt cheerful. "What's the good of making somuch of it? Things are nice as it is," she said to herself, and shebegan walking up and down the room, not stepping simply on theresounding parquet but treading with each step from the heel to thetoe (she had on a new and favorite pair of shoes) and listening to theregular tap of the heel and creak of the toe as gladly as she had tothe sounds of her own voice. Passing a mirror she glanced into it."There, that's me!" the expression of her face seemed to say as shecaught sight of herself. "Well, and very nice too! I need nobody."

　　A footman wanted to come in to clear away something in the roombut she would not let him, and having closed the door behind himcontinued her walk. That morning she had returned to her favoritemood- love of, and delight in, herself. "How charming that Natashais!" she said again, speaking as some third, collective, maleperson. "Pretty, a good voice, young, and in nobody's way if only theyleave her in peace." But however much they left her in peace she couldnot now be at peace, and immediately felt this.

　　In the hall the porch door opened, and someone asked, "At home?" andthen footsteps were heard. Natasha was looking at the mirror, butdid not see herself. She listened to the sounds in the hall. Whenshe saw herself, her face was pale. It was he. She knew this forcertain, though she hardly heard his voice through the closed doors.

　　Pale and agitated, Natasha ran into the drawing room.

　　"Mamma! Bolkonski has come!" she said. "Mamma, it is awful, it isunbearable! I don't want... to be tormented? What am I to do?..."

　　Before the countess could answer, Prince Andrew entered the roomwith an agitated and serious face. As soon as he saw Natasha hisface brightened. He kissed the countess' hand and Natasha's, and satdown beside the sofa.

　　"It is long since we had the pleasure..." began the countess, butPrince Andrew interrupted her by answering her intended question,obviously in haste to say what he had to.

　　"I have not been to see all this time because I have been at myfather's. I had to talk over a very important matter with him. Ionly got back last night," he said glancing at Natasha; "I want tohave a talk with you, Countess," he added after a moment's pause.

　　The countess lowered her eyes, sighing deeply.

　　"I am at your disposal," she murmured.

　　Natasha knew that she ought to go away, but was unable to do so:something gripped her throat, and regardless of manners she staredstraight at Prince Andrew with wide-open eyes.

　　"At once? This instant!... No, it can't be!" she thought.

　　Again he glanced at her, and that glance convinced her that shewas not mistaken. Yes, at once, that very instant, her fate would bedecided.

　　"Go, Natasha! I will call you," said the countess in a whisper.

　　Natasha glanced with frightened imploring eyes at Prince Andrewand at her mother and went out.

　　"I have come, Countess, to ask for your daughter's hand," saidPrince Andrew.

　　The countess' face flushed hotly, but she said nothing.

　　"Your offer..." she began at last sedately. He remained silent,looking into her eyes. "Your offer..." (she grew confused) "isagreeable to us, and I accept your offer. I am glad. And my husband...I hope... but it will depend on her...."

　　"I will speak to her when I have your consent.... Do you give itto me?" said Prince Andrew.

　　"Yes," replied the countess. She held out her hand to him, andwith a mixed feeling of estrangement and tenderness pressed her lipsto his forehead as he stooped to kiss her hand. She wished to love himas a son, but felt that to her he was a stranger and a terrifying man."I am sure my husband will consent," said the countess, "but yourfather..."

　　"My father, to whom I have told my plans, has made it an expresscondition of his consent that the wedding is not to take place for ayear. And I wished to tell you of that," said Prince Andrew.

　　"It is true that Natasha is still young, but- so long as that?..."

　　"It is unavoidable," said Prince Andrew with a sigh.

　　"I will send her to you," said the countess, and left the room.

　　"Lord have mercy upon us!" she repeated while seeking her daughter.

　　Sonya said that Natasha was in her bedroom. Natasha was sitting onthe bed, pale and dry eyed, and was gazing at the icons and whisperingsomething as she rapidly crossed herself. Seeing her mother she jumpedup and flew to her.

　　"Well, Mamma?... Well?..."

　　"Go, go to him. He is asking for your hand," said the countess,coldly it seemed to Natasha. "Go... go," said the mother, sadly andreproachfully, with a deep sigh, as her daughter ran away.

　　Natasha never remembered how she entered the drawing room. Whenshe came in and saw him she paused. "Is it possible that this strangerhas now become everything to me?" she asked herself, and immediatelyanswered, "Yes, everything! He alone is now dearer to me thaneverything in the world." Prince Andrew came up to her with downcasteyes.

　　"I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you. May I hope?"

　　He looked at her and was struck by the serious impassionedexpression of her face. Her face said: "Why ask? Why doubt what youcannot but know? Why speak, when words cannot express what one feels?"

　　She drew near to him and stopped. He took her hand and kissed it.

　　"Do you love me?"

　　"Yes, yes!" Natasha murmured as if in vexation. Then she sighedloudly and, catching her breath more and more quickly, began to sob.

　　"What is it? What's the matter?"

　　"Oh, I am so happy!" she replied, smiled through her tears, bentover closer to him, paused for an instant as if asking herself whethershe might, and then kissed him.

　　Prince Andrew held her hands, looked into her eyes, and did not findin his heart his former love for her. Something in him had suddenlychanged; there was no longer the former poetic and mystic charm ofdesire, but there was pity for her feminine and childish weakness,fear at her devotion and trustfulness, and an oppressive yet joyfulsense of the duty that now bound him to her forever. The presentfeeling, though not so bright and poetic as the former, was strongerand more serious.

　　"Did your mother tell you that it cannot be for a year?" askedPrince Andrew, still looking into her eyes.

　　"Is it possible that I- the 'chit of a girl,' as everybody calledme," thought Natasha- "is it possible that I am now to be the wife andthe equal of this strange, dear, clever man whom even my fatherlooks up to? Can it be true? Can it be true that there can be nomore playing with life, that now I am grown up, that on me now liesa responsibility for my every word and deed? Yes, but what did heask me?"

　　"No," she replied, but she had not understood his question.

　　"Forgive me!" he said. "But you are so young, and I have alreadybeen through so much in life. I am afraid for you, you do not yet knowyourself."

　　Natasha listened with concentrated attention, trying but failingto take in the meaning of his words.

　　"Hard as this year which delays my happiness will be," continuedPrince Andrew, "it will give you time to be sure of yourself. I askyou to make me happy in a year, but you are free: our engagement shallremain a secret, and should you find that you do not love me, orshould you come to love..." said Prince Andrew with an unnaturalsmile.

　　"Why do you say that?" Natasha interrupted him. "You know thatfrom the very day you first came to Otradnoe I have loved you," shecried, quite convinced that she spoke the truth.

　　"In a year you will learn to know yourself...."

　　"A whole year!" Natasha repeated suddenly, only now realizing thatthe marriage was to be postponed for a year. "But why a year? Why ayear?..."

　　Prince Andrew began to explain to her the reasons for this delay.Natasha did not hear him.

　　"And can't it be helped?" she asked. Prince Andrew did not reply,but his face expressed the impossibility of altering that decision.

　　"It's awful! Oh, it's awful! awful!" Natasha suddenly cried, andagain burst into sobs. "I shall die, waiting a year: it'simpossible, it's awful!" She looked into her lover's face and saw init a look of commiseration and perplexity.

　　"No, no! I'll do anything!" she said, suddenly checking her tears."I am so happy."

　　The father and mother came into the room and gave the betrothedcouple their blessing.

　　From that day Prince Andrew began to frequent the Rostovs' asNatasha's affianced lover.