Maximum-assistance view: every word above everyday vocabulary is explained at every appearance; each name is introduced at its first appearance in the chapter.

CHAPTER I

“Well, Prince (a title of the Russian high nobility, not a king’s son), so Genoa and Lucca (two Italian states Napoleon has just handed to his relatives, as if they were private property) are now just family estates (large properties of land) of the Buonapartes (Napoleon’s family; she uses the Italian spelling as an insult, denying that he is French at all). But I warn you, if you don’t tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated (the shameful and terrible acts committed) by that Antichrist (in Christian belief, the great enemy of God who comes before the end of the world)—I really believe he is Antichrist—I will have nothing more to do with you (never speak to you again) and you are no longer my friend, no longer my ‘faithful slave,’ (the very polite name he gives himself when he speaks to her, the kind of talk used at court) as you call yourself! But how do you do? (but how are you?) I see I have frightened (scared) you—sit down and tell me all the news.”

It was in July, 1805, and the speaker was the well-known Anna Pávlovna Schérer (the lady giving this evening’s party), maid of honor (a young unmarried woman of a noble family, one of the Empress’s helpers in the ruler’s household) and favorite of the Empress Márya Fëdorovna (the widow of the dead ruler and mother of the present one). With these words she greeted (said hello to) Prince Vasíli Kurágin (a great man at court, her first guest), a man of high rank and importance (someone with a big title and real power), who was the first to arrive at her reception (evening party). Anna Pávlovna had had a cough for some days. She was, as she said, suffering from la grippe (French: influenza, the flu); grippe being then a new word in St. Petersburg (the capital of Russia at that time), used only by the elite (the highest circle of society).

All her invitations (cards asking guests to come) without exception (every single one, none left out), written in French, and delivered by a scarlet-liveried footman (a servant in the household’s bright red uniform) that morning, ran as follows (said this):

“If you have nothing better to do, Count (or Prince) (Count and Prince are both noble titles; the card left a gap so each guest’s own title could be written in), and if the prospect (the thought of what is coming) of spending an evening with a poor invalid (a sick person: she means herself, half joking) is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed (I shall be delighted) to see you tonight between 7 and 10—Annette Schérer (Anna Pávlovna signing her own name; Annette is the short, friendly French version of Anna).”

“Heavens (said in surprise)! what a virulent attack! (how angrily you speak against him!)” replied the prince, not in the least (not at all) disconcerted (upset) by this reception (the way she greeted him). He had just entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee breeches, and shoes (the formal dress the court required: a decorated uniform, trousers to the knee, and low shoes), and had stars on his breast (wore star-shaped badges of honour on his chest) and a serene expression (a calm, peaceful look) on his flat face. He spoke in that refined French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but thought (the careful, high French that rich, educated people spoke; the Russian nobility of that time used French among themselves rather than Russian), and with the gentle, patronizing intonation (the gentle tone of a man who thinks he is better than the person he speaks to) natural to a man of importance who had grown old in society and at court (spent his whole life among rich titled people and at the ruler’s palace). He went up to (walked over to) Anna Pávlovna, kissed her hand, presenting to her his bald (with no hair on top), scented (sweet-smelling), and shining (bright) head, and complacently (with quiet self-satisfaction) seated himself (sat down) on the sofa (long soft seat).

“First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your friend’s mind at rest (stop your friend worrying),” said he without altering (changing) his tone, beneath the politeness (good manners) and affected (pretended) sympathy of which indifference and even irony (a lack of interest, and even mockery) could be discerned (noticed).

“Can one be well while suffering morally (in one’s soul)? Can one be calm in times like these if one has any feeling?” said Anna Pávlovna. “You are staying the whole evening, I hope?”

“And the fete (the party) at the English ambassador’s (the man who speaks for his country abroad)? Today is Wednesday. I must put in an appearance (I must show myself there, at least briefly) there,” said the prince. “My daughter is coming for me (coming to collect me) to take me there.”

“I thought today’s fete (party) had been canceled. I confess (admit) all these festivities (celebrations) and fireworks (coloured lights shot into the night sky) are becoming wearisome (tiring and dull).”

“If they had known that you wished it, the entertainment would have been put off (the party would have been postponed),” said the prince, who, like a wound-up clock (like a toy with a spring inside: once started it keeps going by itself, and he means none of it), by force of habit (purely out of habit) said things he did not even wish to be believed.

“Don’t tease! (Stop making fun of me!) Well, (anyway, back to what I was asking) and what has been decided about Novosíltsev’s (the Russian diplomat in France, dealing with Napoleon) dispatch (an official report sent home from abroad)? You know everything.”

“What can one say about it?” replied the prince in a cold, listless (with no energy) tone. “What has been decided? They have decided that Buonaparte (Napoleon; she uses the Italian spelling as an insult) has burnt his boats (has destroyed his own way back: he cannot retreat now), and I believe that we are ready to burn ours.”

Prince Vasíli always spoke languidly (slowly, without energy), like an actor repeating a stale part (like an actor bored with a role he has played too often). Anna Pávlovna Schérer on the contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with animation and impulsiveness (was full of life and sudden feeling). To be an enthusiast had become her social vocation (being eager and excited had become her role in society) and, sometimes even when she did not feel like it (want to), she became enthusiastic (full of excitement) in order not to disappoint the expectations (what people who knew her wanted from her) of those who knew her. The subdued (soft, not showing much) smile which, though it did not suit her faded features (her ageing face), always played round her lips (was always there at the corners of her mouth) expressed, as in a spoiled (too used to getting its way) child, a continual consciousness (a constant awareness) of her charming defect (her attractive fault), which she neither wished, nor could, nor considered it necessary, to correct (a fault she did not want to change, could not change, and thought there was no need to change).

In the midst of (In the middle of) a conversation on political matters Anna Pávlovna burst out (said suddenly and loudly):

“Oh, don’t speak to me of (do not even talk to me about) Austria (then a great empire of central Europe). Perhaps I don’t understand things, but Austria never has wished, and does not wish, for war (has never wanted war and does not want it now). She (Austria) is betraying (secretly helping our enemy while pretending to be our friend) us! Russia alone must save Europe. Our gracious sovereign (our kind ruler, the Tsar) recognizes (knows and accepts) his high vocation (the great task God has given him) and will be true to it (will stay faithful to it). That is the one thing I have faith (trust) in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to perform the noblest role on earth (has the finest part on earth to play), and he is so virtuous (morally good) and noble (good and fine in spirit) that God will not forsake (abandon) him. He will fulfill (do what he was meant to do) his vocation and crush the hydra of revolution (crush the revolution, which grows back like the many-headed monster of Greek story), which has become more terrible than ever in the person of this murderer and villain (in the shape of this killer and criminal)! We alone must avenge the blood of the just one (take revenge for the killing of an innocent man).... Whom, I ask you (tell me honestly), can we rely on (trust)?... England with her commercial spirit (the English care most about trade and money) will not and cannot understand the Emperor Alexander’s (the ruler of Russia) loftiness of soul (his greatness of heart: he thinks of others and not of himself). She (England) has refused to evacuate (march its soldiers out of) Malta (an island in the sea between Europe and Africa, ruled by England, with English soldiers on it). She wanted to find, and still seeks, some secret motive (reason) in our actions. What answer did Novosíltsev (a Russian official sent abroad to discuss peace with Napoleon) get? None. The English have not understood and cannot understand the self-abnegation of our Emperor (our Emperor’s putting aside of all thought for himself) who wants nothing for himself, but only desires the good of mankind (all people). And what have they promised? Nothing! And what little they have promised (even the small amount they have promised) they will not perform! Prussia (the leading German kingdom of the day) has always declared that Buonaparte is invincible (Napoleon cannot be beaten), and that all Europe is powerless (able to do nothing) before him.... And I don’t believe a word that Hardenburg (the Prussian foreign minister) says, or Haugwitz (another Prussian minister, his rival) either. This famous Prussian neutrality (Prussia’s well-known refusal to take either side) is just a trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny of our adored monarch (the great thing our much-loved ruler was born to do). He will save Europe!”

She suddenly paused (stopped for a moment), smiling at her own impetuosity (rush of feeling).

“I think,” said the prince with a smile, “that if you had been sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode (the Russian envoy sent to negotiate with Prussia) you would have captured the King of Prussia’s consent by assault (won the King of Prussia’s agreement by storm, the way an army takes a fortress). You are so eloquent (good with words). Will you give me a cup of tea?”

“In a moment. À propos (French: by the way),” she added, becoming calm again, “I am expecting two very interesting men tonight, le Vicomte de Mortemart (the Viscount of Mortemart, a French nobleman of high rank; a viscount ranks just below a count), who is connected with the Montmorencys through the Rohans (the Montmorencys and the Rohans were two of the oldest noble families of France, so the connection is a very grand one), one of the best French families. He is one of the genuine (real) émigrés (French nobles who fled the country during the Revolution), the good ones. And also the Abbé Morio (a French priest and thinker; Abbé is a priest’s title). Do you know that profound (deep) thinker (man of ideas)? He has been received by the Emperor (the Emperor, the ruler of Russia, let him come and meet him in person). Had you heard?”

“I shall be delighted to meet them,” said the prince. “But tell me,” he added with studied carelessness (with an easy manner he had carefully prepared) as if it had only just occurred to him, though the question he was about to ask was the chief motive (reason) of his visit, “is it true that the Dowager Empress (the widow of the dead Emperor) wants Baron Funke (a baron is a nobleman of the lowest rank; Funke is a court official, not present here) to be appointed first secretary at Vienna (a top job at Russia’s office in Vienna, a city in Austria)? The baron by all accounts is a poor creature (everyone says he is weak and no good at anything).”

Prince Vasíli wished to obtain this post (this job) for his son, but others were trying through the Dowager Empress Márya Fëdorovna (the widow of the emperor who died, still called Empress) to secure (get) it for the baron (Baron Funke, the man just named).

Anna Pávlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that neither she nor anyone else (not she, and not any other person) had a right to criticize what the Empress desired or was pleased with.

“Baron (a nobleman of the lowest rank) Funke has been recommended to the Dowager Empress by her sister (the widow of the dead Emperor was told by her own sister that the baron would be good for the job),” was all she said, in a dry and mournful tone (in a flat, sad voice).

As she named the Empress, Anna Pávlovna’s face suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere devotion (showed a look of deep and true loyalty) and respect mingled (mixed) with sadness, and this occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious patroness (her famous and powerful protector). She added that Her Majesty had deigned to show (the Empress had been kind enough to show) Baron (a nobleman of the lowest rank) Funke beaucoup d’estime (French: a lot of respect), and again her face clouded over with sadness (her face turned sad again).

The prince was silent and looked indifferent (as if he did not care). But, with the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual to her (quickly and smoothly, the way a woman who has spent years among rulers and their people knows how to), Anna Pávlovna wished both to rebuke (speak sharply to) him (for daring (not being afraid to) to speak as he had done of a man recommended to the Empress) and at the same time to console (comfort) him, so she said:

“Now about your family. Do you know that since your daughter came out (since your daughter was formally presented to society as a grown woman ready to marry) everyone has been enraptured (delighted) by her? They say she is amazingly (very, very) beautiful.”

The prince bowed (bent forward in respect) to signify (show) his respect and gratitude (thanks).

“I often think,” she continued after a short pause, drawing nearer (closer) to the prince and smiling amiably (pleasantly) at him as if to show that political and social topics were ended and the time had come for intimate conversation (it was time to speak personally and privately)—“I often think how unfairly sometimes the joys (good things) of life are distributed (given to people). Why has fate (the power that decides what happens to people) given you two such splendid (fine) children? I don’t speak of Anatole (Prince Vasíli’s younger son), your youngest. I don’t like him,” she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder (in a tone that allowed no reply) and raising her eyebrows (done to show she would say no more about it). “Two such charming (lovely, easy to like) children. And really you appreciate (value) them less than anyone, and so you don’t deserve to have them.”

And she smiled her ecstatic (wildly delighted) smile.

“I can’t help it (there is nothing I can do about it),” said the prince. “Lavater (a Swiss writer who claimed a person’s character could be read from the shape of the face and skull) would have said I lack the bump of paternity (a joke from that theory: he has no bump on his skull for a father’s love).”

“Don’t joke; I mean to (plan to) have a serious talk with you. Do you know I am dissatisfied (not happy) with your younger son (Anatole again)? Between ourselves (do not tell anyone else what I am about to say)” (and her face assumed (showed) its melancholy (sad) expression), “he was mentioned at Her Majesty’s (people talked about him at the Empress’s home) and you were pitied (felt sorry for)....”

The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him significantly (with meaning in her look), awaiting (waiting for) a reply. He frowned (made an unhappy face).

“What would you have me do? (what do you expect me to do?)” he said at last. “You know I did all a father could for their education, and they have both turned out fools (they have both grown up stupid). Hippolyte (Prince Vasíli’s other son) is at least a quiet fool, but Anatole is an active one (a fool who does things). That is the only difference between them.” He said this smiling in a way more natural and animated (lively) than usual, so that the wrinkles (lines) round his mouth very clearly revealed something unexpectedly (in a way nobody expected) coarse (rough and low, without fine manners) and unpleasant (not nice).

“And why are children born to such men as you? If you were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach (blame) you with,” said Anna Pávlovna, looking up pensively (deep in thought).

“I am your faithful slave (a very polite phrase of the time: I will do anything you ask) and to you alone I can confess (admit) that my children are the bane of my life (my children make my life miserable). It is the cross I have to bear (the suffering I must carry, as Christ carried his cross). That is how I explain it to myself. It can’t be helped! (nothing can be done about it)”

He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel fate (showed that he accepted the hard life he had been given) by a gesture (movement of the hand). Anna Pávlovna meditated (thought it over).

“Have you never thought of marrying (finding a wife for) your prodigal son (your wasteful son, from the Bible story of the son who threw away his father’s money) Anatole?” she asked. “They say old maids have a mania for matchmaking (unmarried older women are said to be obsessed with arranging marriages), and though I don’t feel that weakness in myself as yet, I know a little person (a certain young woman) who is very unhappy with her father. She is a relation (relative) of yours, Princess Mary Bolkónskaya (an unhappy young woman, spoken of here as a possible wife for Anatole).”

Prince Vasíli did not reply, though, with the quickness of memory and perception befitting a man of the world (with the quick memory and understanding proper to a man experienced in society), he indicated by a movement of the head that he was considering this information.

“Do you know,” he said at last, evidently (clearly) unable to check the sad current of his thoughts (he could not stop himself thinking these sad things), “that Anatole is costing me (taking from me) forty thousand rubles a year (forty thousand a year in Russian money, the income of a wealthy estate)? And,” he went on after a pause, “what will it be in five years, if he goes on like this?” Presently (shortly after) he added: “That’s what we fathers have to put up with (accept without complaining).... Is this princess of yours rich?”

“Her father is very rich and stingy (mean with money). He lives in the country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkónski (Princess Mary’s father, an old and difficult man) who had to retire from the army under the late Emperor (under the previous Emperor, now dead), and was nicknamed (given the name) ‘the King of Prussia (Prussia was a German state known for its hard army training, so the name calls him a strict old soldier).’ He is very clever but eccentric (odd in his ways), and a bore (boring to be with). The poor girl is very unhappy. She has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise Meinen (the young wife of Princess Mary’s brother) lately (not long ago). He is an aide-de-camp (a senior officer’s personal assistant) of Kutúzov’s (the general Princess Mary’s brother serves under) and will be here tonight.”

“Listen, dear Annette (Annette is a friendly, informal form of the name Anna; he uses it because they are old friends),” said the prince, suddenly taking Anna Pávlovna’s hand and for some reason drawing it downwards (pulling it down). “Arrange that affair (matter) for me and I shall always be your most devoted (loyal) slave-slafe with an f (he jokes: 'your most devoted slave' was a polite way to end a letter, meaning 'I will do anything for you'; then he spells the word wrongly, the way one of his uneducated village chiefs does, laughing at his own grand words), as a village elder of mine (the chief of one of his villages) writes in his reports. She is rich and of good family (from a respected, upper-class family) and that’s all I want.”

And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to him (in the relaxed, over-friendly way he always had with people), he raised the maid of honor’s (Anna Pávlovna; she is an unmarried woman of a noble family who serves the Empress at court) hand to his lips, kissed it, and swung (moved) it to and fro (back and forth) as he lay back (leaned back) in his armchair (big soft chair), looking in another direction.

“Attendez (French: wait),” said Anna Pávlovna, reflecting (thinking), “I’ll speak to Lise, young Bolkónski’s (Princess Mary's brother; he serves as an officer) wife, this very evening (tonight), and perhaps the thing (the marriage they are arranging) can be arranged. It shall be on your family’s behalf (for your family) that I’ll start my apprenticeship as old maid (my first practice at arranging marriages; a joke at her own expense: she is unmarried and getting older, and arranging other people's marriages was thought to be the job of such women).”