blue-arson [2004-06-29 06:43:16 +0000 UTC]

Vampyre

by

Glen Eric Reed



(Copyright ©1998)



Comment on
This Script






Based on the short story by John Polidori
written by Glen Eric Reed



FADE IN:

EXT. MERCER BUILDING - EVENING

Dusk approaching on a dreary, foggy day. A FULL MOON is barely
visible through the mist. A soft rain falls outside the
building - the private residence of Lord and Lady Mercer - as
a small coach led by a single horse approaches.

TITLE CARD: "London, February 1819"

As the coach comes to a stop, its door has already been opened
from the inside by WILLIAM AUBREY, a tall, conservatively
dressed man in his early twenties. William exits the coach and
reaches back to assist his sister, MARY, a strong-willed and
beautiful 17-year-old.

INT. FOYER - EVENING

Inside, o.s., GUESTS are CHATTERING and LAUGHING and a STRING
QUARTET plays Baroque MUSIC. A SERVANT takes the coats and
other accouterments from William and his sister as they
continue an argument:

WILLIAM (to Mary)
And I should be back home, planning
my trip. I tell you, the only
reason I came here is -

MARY
The only reason you came here was
because I dragged you here!

WILLIAM
I only came here to see Christian.
And I might say the same for you.
The two of you shouldn't be
carrying on as you do, you know ...
you really should have a proper
presentation.

MARY
Yes, yes, after your trip, when I'm
18 years of age. Just because I
haven't been presented does not
mean Christian and I can't enjoy
each other's company, my dear
brother.

William and Mary walk toward the entrance of the drawing room,
but are stopped before they can enter by William's friend
CHRISTIAN.

CHRISTIAN
Master Aubrey! And the charming
Mary! Excellent to see you again,
my friends. I'm sure Lady Mercer
will be thrilled to see you at her
drawing-room.

William smiles broadly.

WILLIAM
Oh, she might ... if she knew me!

CHRISTIAN
Well, I'd introduce you myself if I
could only find her. But who needs
Lady Mercer when we are graced with
the presence of such beauty in your
sister?

WILLIAM
Christian....

MARY
Brother, if you stop him now, I
swear that I'll never forgive you.

The three join in LAUGHTER at Mary's comment. Christian leads
the group into the drawing room.

CHRISTIAN
Honestly, the two of you....
(pause)
Come, let's join the crowd.

INT. DRAWING ROOM - EVENING

The drawing room is packed. A few guests are dancing, some are
TALKING, some are drinking, and some simply enjoy the MUSIC of
the quartet.

LADY MERCER chats with a MYSTERIOUS MAN. The man sits in a
plush velvet chair; his hair is long, dark brown, and streaked
with grey, although he still appears youthful. His eyes show
no emotion.

LADY MERCER
So, milord, do you plan to stay
with us through the whole evening
tonight, or sneak off per usual?

The mysterious man smiles, though his eyes do not seem to
share the gesture.

MYSTERIOUS MAN
We'll just have to see how things
progress, Lady Mercer.

LADY MERCER
Well, I'm sure you can find
something to suit your fancy. We
seem to have quite an interesting
crowd tonight.

MYSTERIOUS MAN
Aye, that you do. But then, when
have your drawing-rooms not
produced a most interesting crowd?

LADY MERCER
Ah, but you flatter me, you
scoundrel. I'd swear it was you
they all came to see.

MYSTERIOUS MAN
Oh, surely I can't be quite so
interesting.

A chair opens up next to the mysterious man. Lady Mercer
daintily lowers herself into it and leans close to him.

LADY MERCER
To me, you're the most interesting
man here.

INT. DRAWING ROOM - LATER THAT EVENING

In another area of the drawing room, William, Mary, and
Christian are smiling and LAUGHING, apparently at William's
expense.

CHRISTIAN
Oh, old reliable "Oxford Aubrey." I
tell you, Mary, you brother's a
great friend, but not the best at
conversation.

WILLIAM
Well, you still must admit, it
is quite warm for this time
of year.

CHRISTIAN
Maybe so, Aubrey, but I haven't
seen you for eight months, and
that's the best you could do for
conversation?

WILLIAM
You may not be seeing much of me,
but you're certainly seeing more
than enough of my sister.

CHRISTIAN
Enough, William. You know very well
that this isn't the place to
discuss my involvement with Mary. I
mean, if you'd only have taken an
appropriate moment to talk with me.

MARY
(overlapping)
Oh, you mustn't treat him so
harshly, Christian. My brother has
been so busy lately, he hardly even
has time to talk with me.

WILLIAM
I will always have time for you,
Dearheart. After all, you're the
only family I have.

Christian SMILES.

CHRISTIAN
All right, all right, enough of
this blathering sentimental
nonsense. What exactly has made you
so busy you haven't had time for a
visit to Birmingham? These days, I
do see Mary more than I see you.
Not that I don't enjoy every minute
of that, of course. But she's not
one to speak of her pig-headed
brother often.

MARY
He hasn't told you his plans?

CHRISTIAN
He hasn't spoken to me!

WILLIAM
As Mary said, I've been busy,
Chris. I'm planning a trip abroad.

CHRISTIAN
All right, now that would certainly
explain it. Where are you planning
to go?

WILLIAM
Well, that remains undecided.

MARY
I think he's just waiting for
someone to whisk him off and
tell him where to go.

CHRISTIAN
Oh, come on now, Aubrey, don't you
know it's you that's supposed to do
the whisking? At this rate, you'll
never find yourself a companion for
your old age!

MARY
Why do you think I keep forcing him
to go to these drawing-rooms?

WILLIAM
I don't really think women make the
best travel companions anyway.

CHRISTIAN
Oh? And why is that, my friend?

MARY
Yes, William, my dear brother - why
is that?

The crowd has begun to thin out; people are moving to the
dining area, o.s. The atmosphere has become more relaxed and
the music is down to one VIOLIN.

Lady Mercer and the mysterious man are now visible from the
vantage of Christian and Mary, but not from that of William,
as his back is turned. Lady Mercer is practically in the
mysterious man's lap - he, however, seems quite uninterested.

WILLIAM
Oh, I don't want to get into this
discussion again, Mary. Women are
simply less well fit for travel.

Mary notices Lady Mercer.

MARY
Well that one certainly is!

William starts to turn around, but Christian grabs his arm.

CHRISTIAN
Careful, Aubrey, wouldn't want to
be rude, now. It seems Mary has
found our gracious hostess.

MARY
That is Lady Mercer? She
doesn't seem like much of a lady to
me.

WILLIAM
Why? What is she doing?

MARY
Nearly everything but removing all
her clothing and straddling that
man!

WILLIAM
Mary!

Christian can't help but burst into UPROARIOUS LAUGHTER at
Mary's comment. Hearing the laughter, and sensing an
opportunity for escape, the mysterious man looks up.

Lady Mercer, caught being less than ladylike, stands and
rushes out of the drawing room.

MARY
Who is that man? People have been
flocking to him since we arrived.

William turns around, no longer able to suppress his
curiosity. The mysterious man stands and begins to walk to the
trio.

CHRISTIAN
Well, he's on his way over. It will
be my pleasure to introduce you.

The mysterious man arrives, with an expression on his face
almost approaching jovial. William is completely transfixed by
the man's appearance, unable to divert his eyes or remove the
inquisitive look from them.

MYSTERIOUS MAN
Good Christian, how does this
evening find you?

CHRISTIAN
Quite well, Vincent, as always.
Please, let me introduce a friend
from my days at university, William
Aubrey, and his enchanting sister
Mary. Aubrey, Mary ... this
incredibly handsome man is Lord
Vincent Ruthven.

Mary suppresses a GIGGLE. Ruthven LAUGHS outright, but his
eyes continue to show nothing.

RUTHVEN
Oh, you make me out to be more than
I am, sir. Don't rely on his words
as a measure of my attractiveness.

CHRISTIAN
Of course not.
(pause)
Rely on the ladies that seem to
fall at his feet at every drawing
-room.

William finally seems to break out of his trance.

WILLIAM
Well, regardless of your relative
attractiveness, it is a pleasure to
make your acquaintance, milord.

RUTHVEN
Oh, please ... call me "Ruthven" or
"Vincent." I do so hate being
called "lord"; it implies an
undeserved superiority.

MARY
And what makes you think you do not
deserve it?

RUTHVEN
Well, aren't you quite the little
inquisitive one?

WILLIAM
You'll have to excuse my sister,
Ruthven. She has had the benefit of
little supervision other than my
own, and I'm afraid I haven't done
a very good job of it.

RUTHVEN
Oh? I'm not so sure of that.

MARY
I'm not so sure he ever supervised
me.

CHRISTIAN
I'm not so sure you can be
supervised, Mary. But I know I
wouldn't mind being the one to try!

William shoots Christian a glance. The four guests are now the
only ones to remain in the drawing room. Everyone else has
entered the dining room, and SERVANTS have begun to clean the
area.

RUTHVEN
There are some people who were
never meant to be supervised.
Though my sympathy goes with those
who still attempt to control.

CHRISTIAN
And who can help but succumb to
your control, Ruthven? Come, my
friends, to the dining room. I must
tell you how I came to meet this
most intriguing fellow.

INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT

This room is enormous, even more grand than the drawing room.
The string quartet is here, playing SOFT MUSIC in the
background.

A large, rectangular table around which many guests are seated
dominates the center of the room. LORD MERCER sits at the head
of this table, but Lady Mercer is nowhere to be found. Several
smaller round tables encircle the larger table.

CHRISTIAN
Come, there is an open table yet.

WILLIAM (to Mary)
Do you see Lady Mercer anywhere?

MARY (to William)
Would you be seen in public if you
had behaved as she just did?

The foursome work their way to an open table. Mary begins to
take a chair with its back to the center of the room, but
Ruthven grabs her arm.

RUTHVEN
Please. The visage of one so fair
should not be denied this good
company. Allow me.

Ruthven pulls a chair out for Mary, one that provides its
occupant with a better view of the other guests (or vice
versa), and sits in the chair in which she had originally
planned to sit. Christian sits down next to Ruthven and
William takes the remaining seat.

A light meal has already been placed at each setting, but no
one starts to eat. A carafe of red wine is in the center of
the table; everyone's glasses are empty.

CHRISTIAN
So I was saying -

Christian takes the carafe and fills everyone's glasses.

CHRISTIAN (Cont.)
Ruthven and I met in that casino in
town. The one where -

RUTHVEN
Really, Christian, must you relate
this tale again?

WILLIAM
No, I'd like to hear it.

RUTHVEN
Oh, very well then. Continue.

CHRISTIAN
(laughing)
Oh, as if you could stop me if you
tried! Anyway, this is really a
most intriguing story. So I was at
that casino, playing baccarat. And
you know baccarat is simply not my
game. I may be an expert at whist -

WILLIAM
I'm always smart enough to have you
on my team, am I not?

CHRISTIAN
Right. So I'm actually winning for
once, surprising as that may sound.
The poor fellow next to me,
however, was not having quite as
much luck....

FADE TO:

INT. CASINO - EVENING

Flashback. Posh, crowded, overdecorated atmosphere. Christian
and three other PLAYERS are seated at a baccarat table. The
two players to Christian's left are extravagantly dressed and
dripping with jewelry; Player 1, to his right, is dressed
plainly and looks a bit unkempt (more like he has lost sleep
than he can't afford to look better). Christian provides the
perfect balance.

CHRISTIAN V.O.
It was only a few weeks ago; I had
just gotten into town and felt like
getting out for a night.

The DEALER makes casual CONVERSATION with the bejeweled
players as he tosses out cards. Player 1 talks to his hands.

PLAYER 1
Last round for me. Out after this
is what I am.

Christian feels obligated to answer.

CHRISTIAN
Bad luck tonight, sir?

No reply.

CHRISTIAN (Cont.)
I say, not winning much tonight?

PLAYER 1
Winning, you bloody fool? Down to
my last pence, I am.

CHRISTIAN
Hard luck, hard luck. Look, if you
need to borrow -

PLAYER
Borrow? Sir, you mistake me for the
indigent man. I can assure you, I
have wealth enough at home. Only
trying to recoup my losses for
tonight, I am.

Ruthven walks over from another area of the casino and stands
behind the two bejeweled players. The dealer finishes passing
out cards.

CHRISTIAN V.O.
I certainly didn't mean to insult
the man, of course. There was no
need for his haughtiness.
(pause)
Anyway, Vincent walks over then,
and has the nerve to stop
the hand just as we're placing our
bets.

The players begin to move chips around on the table. Ruthven
leans forward between the two bejeweled players and raises a
hand.

RUTHVEN
Excuse me. Dealer? Would it be
possible to join the game for this
hand?

DEALER
I'm sorry, sir. Once the cards have
hit the table, that's not allowed.

RUTHVEN
Oh, but surely these fine gentlemen
won't mind if you deal this hand
again.

Ruthven clasps a hand on the shoulder of one of the bejeweled
players. A LIGHT briefly glows behind Ruthven's normally dull
eyes, as if they were the eyes of a cat. The light dies as
quickly as it appears.

There is a long, uncomfortable pause.

BEJEWELED PLAYER
Oh, we may as well let the man in.
Yes, let's deal this hand again and
allow him to play.

No one else reacts, but the bejeweled player places his cards
in front of the dealer, face up, then reaches for Christian's
cards and does the same. Ruthven grins.

RUTHVEN
Misdeal.

INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT

Ruthven stares blankly at Christian.

RUTHVEN
I did not say that.

Christian looks highly amused at his own story, William seems
to be hanging on his every word, and Mary just looks
embarrassed.

CHRISTIAN
Oh, the devil you didn't! It didn't
matter anyway, that was probably my
worst hand of the night.

WILLIAM
So did they deal you in?

RUTHVEN
Of course.

MARY
It doesn't seem like you gave them
much of a choice.

CHRISTIAN
Anyway, no matter. He sat there for
a few more hands. That one poor
fellow won a few, so he stayed in
the game for a while. But his luck
started to turn in a frightening
way.

INT. CASINO - EVENING

A hand is in progress. Player 1 is obviously trying to hold
back a smile; Ruthven has a poker face any card shark would
envy.

Christian lifts a corner of his cards to peek at them, then
throws a chip in front of him.

CHRISTIAN V.O.
The take had grown quite large on
this one hand. My cards were fair
at best, but I figured I'd stay in
a while longer.

Player 1 doesn't even look at his cards. He takes a small
stack of chips and slides them into the growing pot.

PLAYER 1
To you, Lord Ruthven!

Ruthven matches Player 1's bet.

RUTHVEN
I call, sir.

CHRISTIAN V.O.
I had thought the man would have
left the game on the last hand,
which he broke even on, but he just
wanted Vincent's money, I suppose.

Player 1, his face BEAMING like the cat that swallowed the
canary, turns his cards over - a five and a three. Christian,
an obvious loser, tosses his cards in face-down.

Ruthven does not move.

PLAYER 1
Then I've won? Yes! The last hand
equaled my losses; this will
certainly turn tonight into a big
winning!

He reaches for the chips.

RUTHVEN
Sir, I have not yet shown my cards.

PLAYER 1
Yes, but surely -

Ruthven reveals his cards - the three remaining threes. Player
1 picks up his cards and THROWS them at the dealer in
frustration.

PLAYER 1
Bah! My luck was turning! Never
should've let you in the game.

RUTHVEN
If you recall, sir, your luck
turned after I joined.

BEJEWELED PLAYER
'Tis true, 'tis true.

PLAYER 1
Dealer, kindly extend some credit
to me that I might continue ... in
the amount of -

DEALER
I'm sorry, sir, but we extend
credit only to a few of our most -

PLAYER 1
What, most rich? Master Dealer, I
am more than capable of covering
any debt you may advance, I can
assure you.

DEALER
That may be so, but our policy -

PLAYER 1
To Hell and Damnation with your
policy! Extend the credit, or I
shall be forced to speak with the
proprietor of this establishment!

Ruthven holds up a hand in front of the dealer before he has a
chance to retort.

RUTHVEN (to Player 1)
Now then. I don't think that will
be necessary, my friend.

Ruthven and the dealer begin a CONVERSATION, with occasional
PROTESTATIONS by Player 1, but it is the voices of Christian
and the others that we hear:

CHRISTIAN V.O.
I thought Ruthven was about to
reach into his coat pocket and hand
the man a roll of 100-pound notes!

MARY V.O.
So what did he do?

CHRISTIAN V.O.
Nothing short of convince the
dealer to extend credit from the
casino.

WILLIAM V.O.
But I thought they would never do
that without an established,
prepaid account.

CHRISTIAN V.O.
As did I. It's all in the
persuasive art, I tell you, and
this man is a master. A lord.

RUTHVEN V.O.
Oh, you give me far too much
credit.

MARY V.O.
I should say.

The loan to Player 1 is transacted, Player 1 signs a paper,
and the dealer begins to pass out cards. Player 1's hands
tremble when he picks up his cards.

INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT

Servants clear the dinner plates from the tables; some guests
start to leave. The quantity of food on Ruthven's plate
remains the same, though its contents have been moved around.

WILLIAM
Phenomenal bit of charity.

CHRISTIAN
That's not the end of it.

WILLIAM
Oh?

CHRISTIAN
Not quite. Turned out that the man
had wagered his lands to cover that
loan. He won a hand or two, but his
bad-luck streak returned and he
lost the entire loan by the time he
was through.

MARY
The casino allowed him a loan
against his own home?

Ruthven responds matter-of-factly, as if the answer were
patently obvious.

RUTHVEN
That's what I could arrange.

MARY
Horrid. Simply horrid.

CHRISTIAN
Maybe so, but at least the man was
happy for a time. He was given the
opportunity to live like a lord.

WILLIAM
Quite intriguing.

A pause ensues during which William and Mary absorb
Christian's story. Ruthven stands.

RUTHVEN
Sorry as I am not to offer an ...
alternate representation of my
character, I'm afraid I must
proceed into the night.

CHRISTIAN
Sounds like a fine idea for us all,
in fact.

RUTHVEN
Until next time, then, my friends.

Ruthven hastens away from the table.

CHRISTIAN
Say, Ruthven, wait just one moment!

RUTHVEN
Yes?

CHRISTIAN
You've done quite a bit of
traveling, have you not?

Ruthven turns and walks back to the table. William senses that
Christian is about to mention his ill-planned trip.

WILLIAM
Christian, please....

CHRISTIAN
Nonsense.

RUTHVEN
Actually, I seem to travel more
often than I stay in one place.

CHRISTIAN
Well then, I'd say you're in a
unique position to assist our
friend William here. He's planning
a trip of his own shortly.

RUTHVEN
Oh?

WILLIAM
Well ... yes, I am. A "coming-of
-age" trip, you might say.

RUTHVEN
Where do you plan to go?

MARY
That's the problem, he can't
decide!

CHRISTIAN
You must understand, Ruthven, my
friend William has never been the
best at convincing himself of
anything.

WILLIAM
Thank you, but I believe I'm
capable of speaking for myself.

Ruthven seems to be getting impatient.

RUTHVEN
Very well, very well. I must take
my leave for tonight, but send a
man for me tomorrow evening,
William. I shall be honored to
assist you in planning your trip.
Now ... good evening to you all.

He briskly EXITS.

CHRISTIAN
There. Now was that so horrible?

WILLIAM
Well no. At least not for me, at
least not yet. We'll have to see
how tomorrow goes.
(pause)
Interesting as I found him and your
story, I fear he isn't overly fond
of me.

Christian LAUGHS.

CHRISTIAN
Oh, William. You're putting too
much thought into this - that's
just his manner. He's more than
happy to offer his assistance, I'm
sure.

MARY
Still, there is something odd about
that man.

EXT. MERCER BUILDING - NIGHT

The weather has improved, developing into a clear night.
Ruthven comes outside and walks to a SERVANT who stands by the
door. He QUESTIONS the servant, but we hear:

CHRISTIAN V.O.
How so?

MARY V.O.
Oh, I don't know. He seems somehow
falsely charming. As if he were
trying too hard.

Ruthven begins to walk down the street.

INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT

Mary, Christian, and William continue their conversation.
Servants clear the dining room.

CHRISTIAN
Not everyone can be as genuinely
charming as I, my dear.

Mary GIGGLES demurely.

WILLIAM
He certainly charmed Lady Mercer
into making a royal fool of
herself, at any rate.

INSERT (EXT. LONDON - NIGHT): Lady Mercer makes her way down a
deserted London Street, dabbing at tears with a handkerchief.

CHRISTIAN
Oh, I don't see how you could blame
Ruthven for that.

WILLIAM
Who's blaming? I only wish I had
that sort of persuasive power over
all the women I come into contact
with!

Christian and William LAUGH at the idea. Mary just SMILES.

MARY
Still, you'd think she'd have the
decency to make an appearance for
the meal after her own drawing
room. I mean, does anyone even know
where she disappeared to?

INSERT (EXT. LONDON - NIGHT): Lady Mercer rounds a corner into
a dark alleyway.

CHRISTIAN
Not if she has anything to say of
it, I have no doubt.

WILLIAM
One would think she had returned by
this time of night, anyway. Most
likely she simply retired without
having to make excuses to anyone.

MARY
I haven't any doubt this will all
be explained away tomorrow. But for
now, my brother, I am tired. And
sleep awaits.

The three walk out of the room, continuing with idle
CONVERSATION as they exit.

EXT. LONDON - NIGHT

Lady Mercer walks in an alley lit only by the moon. As she
approaches a well-lit main street, a SHADOWY FIGURE grabs her
from behind, back into the alley.

Lights from the main street glint off a dagger, as the shadowy
figure plunges it into Lady Mercer's neck. The silent night is
pierced by her SCREAM, though it is quickly muffled.

INT. AUBREY HOME (LIBRARY) - NIGHT

Ruthven and William sit in large, leather-backed chairs, which
are set at an angle on opposite sides of a small mahogany end
table. Several books are piled on the table, obviously removed
from the myriad of shelves in the room.

WILLIAM
I really am sorry to have asked you
here so late, Ruthven. I tried
again to decide on my own where to
travel, but -

RUTHVEN
Really, do not even give it a
second thought. I am happy to
assist you, and I prefer the night,
anyway.

WILLIAM
Well. Good. I really am quite
anxious to get your opinions on the
trip. From the way Christian was
talking, I got the impression that
you were quite well traveled.

RUTHVEN
I certainly have seen my share of
the world, I suppose. But there are
always places one desires to see
again.

WILLIAM
Right, right. Exactly. Which is why
I wished to consult with you. Books
can only say so much about
someplace, whereas you can give me
more of a first-hand account.

RUTHVEN
(overlapping)
Ah, but I am only one man, with one
opinion. And these books -

Ruthven lifts a book off the mahogany table and begins leafing
through it.

RUTHVEN (Cont.)
- are but another.

WILLIAM
I suppose what I want from you is
to find out what makes one want to
return to a place. What do we see
that embeds good places in our
minds and makes us want to return?

RUTHVEN
'Tis not mere sight, my friend, that
draws us to return, but more of a
combination of the senses. The sight
in conjunction with the smell, the
sounds, the feel of a place ... the
taste.
(pause)
And it is not always a sense of good
that brings us back time and time
again. Both good and horrific
experiences play equally on the mind;
one type of experience holds just as
dear a place as the other, whether we
wish it to or not. Strong memories
can be both sweet and sad. It is the
strength of the final effect that such
a memory has on our mind - and not its
type - that brings the memory to the
fore and makes us long to relive it.
(pause)
Or some memories, we cannot help but
relive ... though we may constantly
try to forget them, striving to
release the tormenting grasp that they
maintain on us, to force them out of
our heads, the thoughts continue to
come to the fore of our minds, of our
dreams, occasionally peeping through
and troubling our waking thoughts.
Think back to the first memory of your
youth, my friend. For most people, it
is some traumatic moment, a moment
that they would prefer not to remember
yet it still lingers in their thoughts.

A pause ensues, during which William seems to be deep in
thought, entranced by Ruthven's speech. Finally, he regains
the power of speech.

WILLIAM
What of your first memory?

RUTHVEN
I remember very little of my youth.

Ruthven shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He closes the book
he was holding and places it back on the table.

WILLIAM
Very little, sure, but your first
memory, what was it of? Was it a
traumatic one?

RUTHVEN
I just told you, I remember almost
nothing.

Ruthven begins to grow agitated.

WILLIAM
Your first memory, though,
Ruthven. I mean, surely you have a
first memory.

An uncomfortable pause, then nothing. A LIGHT appears behind
Ruthven's eyes, then quickly fades away. William speaks
hesitantly.

WILLIAM (Cont.)
I apologize, Lord Ruthven. It is
obviously not something you wish to
speak of.

RUTHVEN
Ah, no, it is I who should
apologize to you. I suppose I am
the one who started talking about
first memories to begin with.

WILLIAM
But it was me who would not let the
subject go.

RUTHVEN
Enough, I will hear no more. Your
trip, William, is what I am here to
discuss.

WILLIAM
Yes, well.
(pause)
I believe I have a general plan in
mind, and I would very much
appreciate your opinions on it.

Ruthven nods.

WILLIAM (Cont.)
I was considering beginning in
France, Paris most likely. I have
heard such wonderful -

RUTHVEN
Excuse me, William.

WILLIAM
Yes?

RUTHVEN
Are you a child?

WILLIAM
What?

RUTHVEN
A child, William. Do you consider
yourself to still be a child? Or do
you wish to take this trip as an
adult?

WILLIAM
Well, an adult, of course. What
exactly are you getting at?

RUTHVEN
Paris is a place for children, my
friend. Drunkards and bad poets.
Nothing more than children playing
the roles of adults: le théatre des
bouffons. It is not a place to
which I would ever return.

William throws up his hands in disgust.

WILLIAM
It took me three months to
determine this much, and you
dismiss it so quickly. At this rate
I'll be lucky to leave London
before my death.

RUTHVEN
Relax, my friend. I can just as
quickly plan an entire trip for us.

WILLIAM
Us?

RUTHVEN
Well, I have been meaning to begin
traveling again for a few days. As
I have said, I do not usually
remain in one place for very long.

WILLIAM
I am more than flattered, Lord
Ruthven. It would be an honor to
have you accompany me.

RUTHVEN
Yes, yes. On with the task at hand.

WILLIAM
Right.

RUTHVEN
Interests, my friend. What is it
that interests you?

William pauses and looks around at the books in the room as if
they might give him the answer.

WILLIAM
Well ... in my studies at
university, I did a lot of research
on architecture - ruins and such,
you know. I found that quite
interesting.

RUTHVEN
Splendid! Problem solved. We leave
two days from now.

Ruthven stands and walks to the door.

WILLIAM
What? But where? Wait a moment!

RUTHVEN
Italy, and perhaps on to Greece.
There you will find all you desire
and memories to relive for
centuries!

WILLIAM
Amazing ... you certainly do know
what you want. And, it would seem,
what I want.

RUTHVEN
Indeed ... indeed. I can find my
own way out.

He exits.

INT. AUBREY HOME - AFTERNOON

Sunlight streams through an open window of a bedroom in the
house. Two trunks sit in a corner of the room: One is closed,
and the other is half packed. Mary follows William around the
room as he adds items to the second trunk.

MARY
So where exactly are you going,
anyway? You still haven't told me.

WILLIAM
That's because I hardly know
myself. We start in Rome; I know
that much. From there, I believe
it's somewhere in Greece.... Beyond
that, Mary, I really don't know.

MARY
Didn't you have any say at all in
planning your own trip?

WILLIAM
It's not really my own trip anymore
now, is it? I mean, it's mine and
Ruthven's together.

Two SERVANTS come by to carry the first trunk away. Mary
patiently waits for them to exit.

MARY
Don't you think he seems to be in
an awful hurry to leave?

WILLIAM
What is that supposed to mean?

MARY
Oh, nothing. Never mind.

William stops, with a few items in his hands, and turns to
face Mary.

WILLIAM
Stop this nonsense, Mary, and tell
me what's wrong. Since I told you
I'd be taking this trip with
Ruthven, you've been refusing to
discuss the gentleman at all.

MARY
I find Lord Vincent Ruthven to be
far less than a gentleman, brother.

WILLIAM
Mary!

MARY
Well I'm sorry, but I do! I can't
explain how or why, but I just know
that there is something he's trying
to hide. Something in his past,
something in his present.
(pause)
I don't know, maybe something in
his future.

William returns to packing. He crams a few last items into the
trunk, then SLAMS it closed.

WILLIAM
Now you're just talking nonsense.

MARY
Am I?

No response.

MARY (Cont.)
Fine, William. Maybe I am.

(pause)
Just promise me you'll be careful.

WILLIAM
Of course. Though I don't see how
it's a younger sister's place to
tell this to an older brother.

The servants reenter and carry the final trunk away. William
turns to lock his sister's gaze.

WILLIAM
Now, about this matter with you and
Christian.

MARY
Brother -

WILLIAM
Stop and let me speak a moment. You
know there is nothing I'd rather
see than the two of you together,
but ... Mary ... I'm not asking you
to wait long.

MARY
You know I've never been one to
follow convention, William.

WILLIAM
Yes, I know. But I also know that
you know I only have your
best interests at heart. Mary, it's
just not proper, and for
once, I'd like you to do something
the proper way.

MARY
Fine.
(pause)
It's a long ride, brother; you're
going to miss the ship.

William slings a small bag over his shoulder and starts
walking out of the room.

MARY (Cont.)
You will remember to write me,
won't you?

WILLIAM
Of course, Dearheart.

Mary runs over and HUGS William.

MARY
A safe and fruitful voyage,
brother.

WILLIAM
I know of no other kind.

MARY
And be sure to write!

He exits.

WILLIAM (O.S.)
Yes, yes.

Mary walks to the window.

P.O.V. Mary:

William exits the house and meets a waiting carriage. Servants
lift the trunk into the back. William walks to the DRIVER and
SPEAKS to him, but it is too far for Mary to hear.

EXT. AUBREY HOME - AFTERNOON

William and the carriage driver conclude their conversation,
and William climbs into the carriage. From the window of the
home, we see Mary wave good-bye. Over this scene, we hear
William's voice reading his first letter to Mary:

WILLIAM V.O.
"Dear Mary ... It has been only a
week since my arrival in Rome, but
I fear your hasty judgment of Lord
Ruthven may have been more accurate
than I had imagined. His conduct,
it seems, has been far less than
exemplary, particularly for a man
of his standing in society."

P.O.V. Mary:

The driver CRACKS a whip, and the carriage drives away.

INT. AUBREY HOME - AFTERNOON

Mary slowly turns from the window. She walks around the room
and examines its emptiness.

WILLIAM V.O. (Cont.)
"It seems strangeness follows the
man wherever he goes. He did not
even appear on our ship until the
night after it had set sail!
I still have no idea how or when he
got on board, and he was entirely
unwilling to share such
information, so I cannot relate any
more of that story as I have not
been made privy to any more of it."

FADE TO:

INT. AUBREY HOME - WEEKS LATER - NIGHT

Mary stands, reading from William's letter, which she holds in
her hands. Christian reads over her shoulder.

WILLIAM V.O. (Cont.)
"I can, however, relate what has
happened since we arrived in Rome.
After Ruthven's numerous encounters
with females en route (I think he's
left a ruined woman at every stop
we have made!), I finally feel
forced to confront him here, as I
know we plan to stay at least a
month. It seems he has gained the
favor of another young innocent
whose reputation I am now certain
he intends to tarnish. This time,
however, the girl is the daughter
of the very family who has been
kind enough to take us in."

INT. BERCOVICCI HOME (WILLIAM'S ROOM) - DUSK

TITLE CARD: "Rome, March 1819"

William sits at a writing desk in the home of the Bercoviccis,
the family with whom he and Ruthven are staying. A single
candle lights the sparsely-furnished room.

WILLIAM V.O. (Cont.)
"I will of course attempt to put an
end to his scheming, assuming I can
even track the man down. He has
become rather difficult to even
locate since we arrived in Rome."

William replenishes the ink in his pen, then returns to his
letter.

WILLIAM V.O. (Cont.)
I will be sure to write again when
the issue is resolved. Please take
care to behave, Dearheart. As
always, William."

He finishes the letter, folds it in thirds, and seals it with
a few drops of wax from the candle. As a final touch, he marks
the wax with a signet ring.

Ruthven walks past the open door to the room just as William
looks up from sealing his letter.

WILLIAM
Ruthven!

RUTHVEN (O.S.)
What?

WILLIAM
Please, Vincent. A moment of your
time.

RUTHVEN (O.S.)
Can't this wait until later? I have
an encounter at which I am
expected, William.

WILLIAM
With Anna Bercovicci, no doubt?
Must you choose to pursue and ...
demean the daughter of our hosts?

A moment passes, then Ruthven reappears in the doorway. The
amount of grey in his hair has increased, and he looks pale
and haggard. Only his eyes seem more animated than previously,
afire with a red glow.

RUTHVEN
So now you feel the need to meddle
in my personal affairs? Of all the
impudence! Demean...! Was it not I
who...?
(pause)
You would never have even taken
this trip if not for me!

WILLIAM
I only meant to -

RUTHVEN
To what? Harass me? Am I not
entitled to a moment's peace?

WILLIAM
Peace? What is "peace" to you,
Ruthven? Playing with the lives of
the affluent until they end up
festering in a dungeon when you
abandon them? Or worse, cast out
from the society in which they once
held the highest stature?

RUTHVEN
What?!

William stands from behind the writing desk.

WILLIAM
Oh, you can't tell me you have no
idea what I'm talking about! In
every stop we've made en route to
Rome, the noble are turned ignoble
at your hand.

RUTHVEN
My dear William, that is nothing
short of an ignoratio elenchi.

WILLIAM
Pardon? A what?

RUTHVEN
Indeed ... Latin scholarship is not
what it once was.
(pause)
An ignoratio elenchi. A simple
error in logic. Because the
virtuous become infamous, does that
mean it must be due to my actions?

WILLIAM
Well, no, but you still must
admit.... That is, I mean to say,
why must it always be those with
whom you have had the most intimate
contact?

RUTHVEN
Coincidence.

William SLAPS his hand against the writing desk in frustration
and turns his back to Ruthven.

WILLIAM
You can't reasonably expect me to
believe that this has all been mere
coincidence?

RUTHVEN
Yes, I can.

A LIGHT glows behind Ruthven's eyes as William turns back
around to face him.

RUTHVEN (Cont.)
And can you honestly say that such
occurrences were not
coincidental?

William straightens the items remaining on the writing desk,
takes his letter to Mary in hand, and walks toward the door of
the room.

WILLIAM
I suppose perhaps I cannot.

(pause)
But this does not change things. Do
you deny that you intend to see
Anna this evening?

RUTHVEN
I do not.

WILLIAM
Very well. Then I leave your
company immediately. This evening.
For I am certain of two things:
that your intentions with Anna are
less than honorable and that our
host will take such intentions
harshly.

RUTHVEN
You may do as you choose, my
friend. Though I still say I do not
aim to sully the virtue of Anna or
of any other. But "honor," William
... "honor" is an outdated concept.

WILLIAM
Maybe to you.

William exits. Ruthven takes one step into the room and looks
in the direction of the candle. The candle, seemingly
assaulted by a breeze from Ruthven's direction, is
extinguished.

INT. DRAWING ROOM - NIGHT

TITLE CARD: "London, May 1819"

GUESTS interact in a reception room more lush than Lady
Mercer's. The room is aglow with candlelight from a huge
chandelier and several candelabra that sit on tables
throughout the room.

Christian and Mary sit at one of these tables and stare at
each other for a few moments without speaking.

CHRISTIAN
Do you suppose we should write your
brother and tell him?

MARY
Tell him what?

CHRISTIAN
About us, Mary.

Christian picks up a glass of white wine from the table and
drinks from it.

MARY
Oh come now, Christian. Really,
what is there to tell?

CHRISTIAN
Mary....

MARY

👍: 0 ⏩: 1

undi3s [2004-02-12 16:03:40 +0000 UTC]

WAR AND PEACE
by Leo Tolstoy

BOOK III: 1805

CHAPTER I

---------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------


Prince Vasili was not a man who deliberately thought out his plans. Still less did he think of injuring anyone for his own advantage. He was merely a man of the world who had got on and to whom getting on had become a habit. Schemes and devices for which he never rightly accounted to himself, but which formed the whole interest of his life, were constantly shaping themselves in his mind, arising from the circumstances and persons he met. Of these plans he had not merely one or two in his head but dozens, some only beginning to form themselves, some approaching achievement, and some in course of disintegration. He did not, for instance, say to himself: "This man now has influence, I must gain his confidence and friendship and through him obtain a special grant." Nor did he say to himself: "Pierre is a rich man, I must entice him to marry my daughter and lend me the forty thousand rubles I need." But when he came across came across a man of position his instinct immediately told him that this man could be useful, and without any premeditation Prince Vasili took the first opportunity to gain his confidence, flatter him, become intimate with him, and finally make his request.

He had Pierre at hand in Moscow and procured for him an appointment as Gentleman of the Bedchamber, which at that time conferred the status of Councilor of State, and insisted on the young man accompanying him to Petersburg and staying at his house. With apparent absent-mindedness, yet with unhesitating assurance that he was doing the right thing, Prince Vasili did everything to get Pierre to marry his daughter. Had he thought out his plans beforehand he could not have been so natural and shown such unaffected familiarity in intercourse with everybody both above and below him in social standing. Something always drew him toward those richer and more powerful than himself and he had rare skill in seizing the most opportune moment for making use of people.

Pierre, on unexpectedly becoming Count Bezukhov and a rich man, felt himself after his recent loneliness and freedom from cares so beset and preoccupied that only in bed was he able to be by himself. He had to sign papers, to present himself at government offices, the purpose of which was not clear to him, to question his chief steward, to visit his estate near Moscow, and to receive many people who formerly did not even wish to know of his existence but would now have been offended and grieved had he chosen not to see them. These different people- businessmen, relations, and acquaintances alike- were all disposed to treat the young heir in the most friendly and flattering manner: they were all evidently firmly convinced of Pierre's noble qualities. He was always hearing such words as: "With your remarkable kindness," or, "With your excellent heart," "You are yourself so honorable Count," or, "Were he as clever as you," and so on, till he began sincerely to believe in his own exceptional kindness and extraordinary intelligence, the more so as in the depth of his heart it had always seemed to him that he really was very kind and intelligent. Even people who had formerly been spiteful toward him and evidently unfriendly now became gentle and affectionate. The angry eldest princess, with the long waist and hair plastered down like a doll's, had come into Pierre's room after the funeral. With drooping eyes and frequent blushes she told him she was very sorry about their past misunderstandings and did not now feel she had a right to ask him for anything, except only for permission, after the blow she had received, to remain for a few weeks longer in the house she so loved and where she had sacrificed so much. She could not refrain from weeping at these words. Touched that this statuesque princess could so change, Pierre took her hand and begged her forgiveness, without knowing what for. From that day the eldest princess quite changed toward Pierre and began knitting a striped scarf for him.

"Do this for my sake, mon cher; after all, she had to put up with a great deal from the deceased," said Prince Vasili to him, handing him a deed to sign for the princess' benefit.

Prince Vasili had come to the conclusion that it was necessary to throw this bone- a bill for thirty thousand rubles- to the poor princess that it might not occur to her to speak of his share in the affair of the inlaid portfolio. Pierre signed the deed and after that the princess grew still kinder. The younger sisters also became affectionate to him, especially the youngest, the pretty one with the mole, who often made him feel confused by her smiles and her own confusion when meeting him.

It seemed so natural to Pierre that everyone should like him, and it would have seemed so unnatural had anyone disliked him, that he could not but believe in the sincerity of those around him. Besides, he had no time to ask himself whether these people were sincere or not. He was always busy and always felt in a state of mild and cheerful intoxication. He felt as though he were the center of some important and general movement; that something was constantly expected of him, that if he did not do it he would grieve and disappoint many people, but if he did this and that, all would be well; and he did what was demanded of him, but still that happy result always remained in the future.

More than anyone else, Prince Vasili took possession of Pierre's affairs and of Pierre himself in those early days. From the death of Count Bezukhov he did not let go his hold of the lad. He had the air of a man oppressed by business, weary and suffering, who yet would not, for pity's sake, leave this helpless youth who, after all, was the son of his old friend and the possessor of such enormous wealth, to the caprice of fate and the designs of rogues. During the few days he spent in Moscow after the death of Count Bezukhov, he would call Pierre, or go to him himself, and tell him what ought to be done in a tone of weariness and assurance, as if he were adding every time: "You know I am overwhelmed with business and it is purely out of charity that I trouble myself about you, and you also know quite well that what I propose is the only thing possible."

"Well, my dear fellow, tomorrow we are off at last," said Prince Vasili one day, closing his eyes and fingering Pierre's elbow, speaking as if he were saying something which had long since been agreed upon and could not now be altered. "We start tomorrow and I'm giving you a place in my carriage. I am very glad. All our important business here is now settled, and I ought to have been off long ago. Here is something I have received from the chancellor. I asked him for you, and you have been entered in the diplomatic corps and made a Gentleman of the Bedchamber. The diplomatic career now lies open before you."

Notwithstanding the tone of wearied assurance with which these words were pronounced, Pierre, who had so long been considering his career, wished to make some suggestion. But Prince Vasili interrupted him in the special deep cooing tone, precluding the possibility of interrupting his speech, which he used in extreme cases when special persuasion was needed.

"Mais, mon cher, I did this for my own sake, to satisfy my conscience, and there is nothing to thank me for. No one has ever complained yet of being too much loved; and besides, you are free, you could throw it up tomorrow. But you will see everything for yourself when you get to Petersburg. It is high time for you to get away from these terrible recollections." Prince Vasili sighed. "Yes, yes, my boy. And my valet can go in your carriage. Ah! I was nearly forgetting," he added. "You know, mon cher, your father and I had some accounts to settle, so I have received what was due from the Ryazan estate and will keep it; you won't require it. We'll go into the accounts later."

By "what was due from the Ryazan estate" Prince Vasili meant several thousand rubles quitrent received from Pierre's peasants, which the prince had retained for himself.

In Petersburg, as in Moscow, Pierre found the same atmosphere of gentleness and affection. He could not refuse the post, or rather the rank (for he did nothing), that Prince Vasili had procured for him, and acquaintances, invitations, and social occupations were so numerous that, even more than in Moscow, he felt a sense of bewilderment, bustle, and continual expectation of some good, always in front of him but never attained.

Of his former bachelor acquaintances many were no longer in Petersburg. The Guards had gone to the front; Dolokhov had been reduced to the ranks; Anatole was in the army somewhere in the provinces; Prince Andrew was abroad; so Pierre had not the opportunity to spend his nights as he used to like to spend them, or to open his mind by intimate talks with a friend older than himself and whom he respected. His whole time was taken up with dinners and balls and was spent chiefly at Prince Vasili's house in the company of the stout princess, his wife, and his beautiful daughter Helene.

Like the others, Anna Pavlovna Scherer showed Pierre the change of attitude toward him that had taken place in society.

Formerly in Anna Pavlovna's presence, Pierre had always felt that what he was saying was out of place, tactless and unsuitable, that remarks which seemed to him clever while they formed in his mind became foolish as soon as he uttered them, while on the contrary Hippolyte's stupidest remarks came out clever and apt. Now everything Pierre said was charmant. Even if Anna Pavlovna did not say so, he could see that she wished to and only refrained out of regard for his modesty.

In the beginning of the winter of 1805-6 Pierre received one of Anna Pavlovna's usual pink notes with an invitation to which was added: "You will find the beautiful Helene here, whom it is always delightful to see."

When he read that sentence, Pierre felt for the first time that some link which other people recognized had grown up between himself and Helene, and that thought both alarmed him, as if some obligation were being imposed on him which he could not fulfill, and pleased him as an entertaining supposition.

Anna Pavlovna's "At Home" was like the former one, only the novelty she offered her guests this time was not Mortemart, but a diplomatist fresh from Berlin with the very latest details of the Emperor Alexander's visit to Potsdam, and of how the two august friends had pledged themselves in an indissoluble alliance to uphold the cause of justice against the enemy of the human race. Anna Pavlovna received Pierre with a shade of melancholy, evidently relating to the young man's recent loss by the death of Count Bezukhov (everyone constantly considered it a duty to assure Pierre that he was greatly afflicted by the death of the father he had hardly known), and her melancholy was just like the august melancholy she showed at the mention of her most august Majesty the Empress Marya Fedorovna. Pierre felt flattered by this. Anna Pavlovna arranged the different groups in her drawing room with her habitual skill. The large group, in which were Prince Vasili and the generals, had the benefit of the diplomat. Another group was at the tea table. Pierre wished to join the former, but Anna Pavlovna- who was in the excited condition of a commander on a battlefield to whom thousands of new and brilliant ideas occur which there is hardly time to put in action- seeing Pierre, touched his sleeve with her finger, saying:

"Wait a bit, I have something in view for you this evening." (She glanced at Helene and smiled at her.) "My dear Helene, be charitable to my poor aunt who adores you. Go and keep her company for ten minutes. And that it will not be too dull, here is the dear count who will not refuse to accompany you."

The beauty went to the aunt, but Anna Pavlovna detained Pierre, looking as if she had to give some final necessary instructions.

"Isn't she exquisite?" she said to Pierre, pointing to the stately beauty as she glided away. "And how she carries herself! For so young a girl, such tact, such masterly perfection of manner! It comes from her heart. Happy the man who wins her! With her the least worldly of men would occupy a most brilliant position in society. Don't you think so? I only wanted to know your opinion," and Anna Pavlovna let Pierre go.

Pierre, in reply, sincerely agreed with her as to Helene's perfection of manner. If he ever thought of Helene, it was just of her beauty and her remarkable skill in appearing silently dignified in society.

The old aunt received the two young people in her corner, but seemed desirous of hiding her adoration for Helene and inclined rather to show her fear of Anna Pavlovna. She looked at her niece, as if inquiring what she was to do with these people. On leaving them, Anna Pavlovna again touched Pierre's sleeve, saying: "I hope you won't say that it is dull in my house again," and she glanced at Helene.

Helene smiled, with a look implying that she did not admit the possibility of anyone seeing her without being enchanted. The aunt coughed, swallowed, and said in French that she was very pleased to see Helene, then she turned to Pierre with the same words of welcome and the same look. In the middle of a dull and halting conversation, Helene turned to Pierre with the beautiful bright smile that she gave to everyone. Pierre was so used to that smile, and it had so little meaning for him, that he paid no attention to it. The aunt was just speaking of a collection of snuffboxes that had belonged to Pierre's father, Count Bezukhov, and showed them her own box. Princess Helene asked to see the portrait of the aunt's husband on the box lid.

"That is probably the work of Vinesse," said Pierre, mentioning a celebrated miniaturist, and he leaned over the table to take the snuffbox while trying to hear what was being said at the other table.

He half rose, meaning to go round, but the aunt handed him the snuffbox, passing it across Helene's back. Helene stooped forward to make room, and looked round with a smile. She was, as always at evening parties, wearing a dress such as was then fashionable, cut very low at front and back. Her bust, which had always seemed like marble to Pierre, was so close to him that his shortsighted eyes could not but perceive the living charm of her neck and shoulders, so near to his lips that he need only have bent his head a little to have touched them. He was conscious of the warmth of her body, the scent of perfume, and the creaking of her corset as she moved. He did not see her marble beauty forming a complete whole with her dress, but all the charm of her body only covered by her garments. And having once seen this he could not help being aware it, just as we cannot renew an illusion we have once seen through.

"So you have never noticed before how beautiful I am?" Helene seemed to say. " You had not noticed that I am a woman? Yes, I am a woman who may belong to anyone- to you too," said her glance. And at that moment Pierre felt that Helene not only could, but must, be his wife, and that it could not be otherwise.

He knew this at that moment as surely as if he had been standing at the altar with her. How and when this would be he did not know, he did not even know if it would be a good thing (he even felt, he knew not why, that it would be a bad thing), but he knew it would happen.

Pierre dropped his eyes, lifted them again, and wished once more to see her as a distant beauty far removed from him, as he had seen her every day until then, but he could no longer do it. He could not, any more than a man who has been looking at a tuft of steppe grass through the mist and taking it for a tree can again take it for a tree after he has once recognized it to be a tuft of grass. She was terribly close to him. She already had power over him, and between them there was no longer any barrier except the barrier of his own will.

"Well, I will leave you in your little corner," came Anna Pavlovna's voice, "I see you are all right there."

And Pierre, anxiously trying to remember whether he had done anything reprehensible, looked round with a blush. It seemed to him that everyone knew what had happened to him as he knew it himself.

A little later when he went up to the large circle, Anna Pavlovna said to him: "I hear you are refitting your Petersburg house?"

This was true. The architect had told him that it was necessary, and Pierre, without knowing why, was having his enormous Petersburg house done up.

"That's a good thing, but don't move from Prince Vasili's. It is good to have a friend like the prince," she said, smiling at Prince Vasili. "I know something about that. Don't I? And you are still so young. You need advice. Don't be angry with me for exercising an old woman's privilege."

She paused, as women always do, expecting something after they have mentioned their age. "If you marry it will be a different thing," she continued, uniting them both in one glance. Pierre did not look at Helene nor she at him. But she was just as terribly close to him. He muttered something and colored.

When he got home he could not sleep for a long time for thinking of what had happened. What had happened? Nothing. He had merely understood that the woman he had known as a child, of whom when her beauty was mentioned he had said absent-mindedly: "Yes, she's good looking," he had understood that this woman might belong to him.

"But she's stupid. I have myself said she is stupid," he thought. "There is something nasty, something wrong, in the feeling she excites in me. I have been told that her brother Anatole was in love with her and she with him, that there was quite a scandal and that that's why he was sent away. Hippolyte is her brother... Prince Vasili is her father... It's bad...." he reflected, but while he was thinking this (the reflection was still incomplete), he caught himself smiling and was conscious that another line of thought had sprung up, and while thinking of her worthlessness he was also dreaming of how she would be his wife, how she would love him become quite different, and how all he had thought and heard of her might be false. And he again saw her not as the daughter of Prince Vasili, but visualized her whole body only veiled by its gray dress. "But no! Why did this thought never occur to me before?" and again he told himself that it was impossible, that there would be something unnatural, and as it seemed to him dishonorable, in this marriage. He recalled her former words and looks and the words and looks of those who had seen them together. He recalled Anna Pavlovna's words and looks when she spoke to him about his house, recalled thousands of such hints from Prince Vasili and others, and was seized by terror lest he had already, in some way, bound himself to do something that was evidently wrong and that he ought not to do. But at the very time he was expressing this conviction to himself, in another part of his mind her image rose in all its womanly beauty.


CHAPTER II

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In November, 1805, Prince Vasili had to go on a tour of inspection in four different provinces. He had arranged this for himself so as to visit his neglected estates at the same time and pick up his son Anatole where his regiment was stationed, and take him to visit Prince Nicholas Bolkonski in order to arrange a match for him with the daughter of that rich old man. But before leaving home and undertaking these new affairs, Prince Vasili had to settle matters with Pierre, who, it is true, had latterly spent whole days at home, that is, in Prince Vasili's house where he was staying, and had been absurd, excited, and foolish in Helene's presence (as a lover should be), but had not yet proposed to her.

"This is all very fine, but things must be settled," said Prince Vasili to himself, with a sorrowful sigh, one morning, feeling that Pierre who was under such obligations to him ("But never mind that" was not behaving very well in this matter. "Youth, frivolity... well, God be with him," thought he, relishing his own goodness of heart, "but it must be brought to a head. The day after tomorrow will be Lelya's name day. I will invite two or three people, and if he does not understand what he ought to do then it will be my affair- yes, my affair. I am her father."

Six weeks after Anna Pavlovna's "At Home" and after the sleepless night when he had decided that to marry Helene would be a calamity and that he ought to avoid her and go away, Pierre, despite that decision, had not left Prince Vasili's and felt with terror that in people's eyes he was every day more and more connected with her, that it was impossible for him to return to his former conception of her, that he could not break away from her, and that though it would be a terrible thing he would have to unite his fate with hers. He might perhaps have been able to free himself but that Prince Vasili (who had rarely before given receptions) now hardly let a day go by without having an evening party at which Pierre had to be present unless he wished to spoil the general pleasure and disappoint everyone's expectation. Prince Vasili, in the rare moments when he was at home, would take Pierre's hand in passing and draw it downwards, or absent-mindedly hold out his wrinkled, clean-shaven cheek for Pierre to kiss and would say: "Till tomorrow," or, "Be in to dinner or I shall not see you," or, "I am staying in for your sake," and so on. And though Prince Vasili, when he stayed in (as he said) for Pierre's sake, hardly exchanged a couple of words with him, Pierre felt unable to disappoint him. Every day he said to himself one and the same thing: "It is time I understood her and made up my mind what she really is. Was I mistaken before, or am I mistaken now? No, she is not stupid, she is an excellent girl," he sometimes said to himself "she never makes a mistake, never says anything stupid. She says little, but what she does say is always clear and simple, so she is not stupid. She never was abashed and is not abashed now, so she cannot be a bad woman!" He had often begun to make reflections or think aloud in her company, and she had always answered him either by a brief but appropriate remark- showing that it did not interest her- or by a silent look and smile which more palpably than anything else showed Pierre her superiority. She was right in regarding all arguments as nonsense in comparison with that smile.

She always addressed him with a radiantly confiding smile meant for him alone, in which there was something more significant than in the general smile that usually brightened her face. Pierre knew that everyone was waiting for him to say a word and cross a certain line, and he knew that sooner or later he would step across it, but an incomprehensible terror seized him at the thought of that dreadful step. A thousand times during that month and a half while he felt himself drawn nearer and nearer to that dreadful abyss, Pierre said to himself: "What am I doing? I need resolution. Can it be that I have none?"

He wished to take a decision, but felt with dismay that in this matter he lacked that strength of will which he had known in himself and really possessed. Pierre was one of those who are only strong when they feel themselves quite innocent, and since that day when he was overpowered by a feeling of desire while stooping over the snuffbox at Anna Pavlovna's, an unacknowledged sense of the guilt of that desire paralyzed his will.

On Helene's name day, a small party of just their own people- as his wife said- met for supper at Prince Vasili's. All these friends and relations had been given to understand that the fate of the young girl would be decided that evening. The visitors were seated at supper. Princess Kuragina, a portly imposing woman who had once been handsome, was sitting at the head of the table. On either side of her sat the more important guests- an old general and his wife, and Anna Pavlovna Scherer. At the other end sat the younger and less important guests, and there too sat the members of the family, and Pierre and Helene, side by side. Prince Vasili was not having any supper: he went round the table in a merry mood, sitting down now by one, now by another, of the guests. To each of them he made some careless and agreeable remark except to Pierre and Helene, whose presence he seemed not to notice. He enlivened the whole party. The wax candles burned brightly, the silver and crystal gleamed, so did the ladies' toilets and the gold and silver of the men's epaulets; servants in scarlet liveries moved round the table, the clatter of plates, knives, and glasses mingled with the animated hum of several conversations. At one end of the table, the old chamberlain was heard assuring an old baroness that he loved her passionately, at which she laughed; at the other could be heard the story of the misfortunes of some Mary Viktorovna or other. At the center of the table, Prince Vasili attracted everybody's attention. With a facetious smile on his face, he was telling the ladies about last Wednesday's meeting of the Imperial Council, at which Sergey Kuzmich Vyazmitinov, the new military governor general of Petersburg, had received and read the then famous rescript of the Emperor Alexander from the army to Sergey Kuzmich, in which the Emperor said that he was receiving from all sides declarations of the people's loyalty, that the declaration from Petersburg gave him particular pleasure, and that he was proud to be at the head of such a nation and would endeavor to be worthy of it. This rescript began with the words: "Sergey Kuzmich, From all sides reports reach me," etc.

"Well, and so he never got farther than: 'Sergey Kuzmich'?" asked one of the ladies.

"Exactly, not a hair's breadth farther," answered Prince Vasili, laughing, " 'Sergey Kuzmich... From all sides... From all sides... Sergey Kuzmich...' Poor Vyazmitinov could not get any farther! He began the rescript again and again, but as soon as he uttered 'Sergey' he sobbed, 'Kuz-mi-ch,' tears, and 'From all sides' was smothered in sobs and he could get no farther. And again his handkerchief, and again: 'Sergey Kuzmich, From all sides,'... and tears, till at last somebody else was asked to read it."

"Kuzmich... From all sides... and then tears," someone repeated laughing.

"Don't be unkind," cried Anna Pavlovna from her end of the table holding up a threatening finger. "He is such a worthy and excellent man, our dear Vyazmitinov...."

Everybody laughed a great deal. At the head of the table, where the honored guests sat, everyone seemed to be in high spirits and under the influence of a variety of exciting sensations. Only Pierre and Helene sat silently side by side almost at the bottom of the table, a suppressed smile brightening both their faces, a smile that had nothing to do with Sergey Kuzmich- a smile of bashfulness at their own feelings. But much as all the rest laughed, talked, and joked, much as they enjoyed their Rhine wine, saute, and ices, and however they avoided looking at the young couple, and heedless and unobservant as they seemed of them, one could feel by the occasional glances they gave that the story about Sergey Kuzmich, the laughter, and the food were all a pretense, and that the whole attention of that company was directed to- Pierre and Helene. Prince Vasili mimicked the sobbing of Sergey Kuzmich and at the same time his eyes glanced toward his daughter, and while he laughed the expression on his face clearly said: "Yes... it's getting on, it will all be settled today." Anna Pavlovna threatened him on behalf of " our dear Vyazmitinov," and in her eyes, which, for an instant, glanced at Pierre, Prince Vasili read a congratulation on his future son-in-law and on his daughter's happiness. The old princess sighed sadly as she offered some wine to the old lady next to her and glanced angrily at her daughter, and her sigh seemed to say: " Yes, there's nothing left for you and me but to sip sweet wine, my dear, now that the time has come for these young ones to be thus boldly, provocatively happy." "And what nonsense all this is that I am saying!" thought a diplomatist, glancing at the happy faces of the lovers. "That's happiness!"

Into the insignificant, trifling, and artificial interests uniting that society had entered the simple feeling of the attraction of a healthy and handsome young man and woman for one another. And this human feeling dominated everything else and soared above all their affected chatter. Jests fell flat, news was not interesting, and the animation was evidently forced. Not only the guests but even the footmen waiting at table seemed to feel this, and they forgot their duties as they looked at the beautiful Helene with her radiant face and at the red, broad, and happy though uneasy face of Pierre. It seemed as if the very light of the candles was focused on those two happy faces alone.

Pierre felt that he the center of it all, and this both pleased and embarrassed him. He was like a man entirely absorbed in some occupation. He did not see, hear, or understand anything clearly. Only now and then detached ideas and impressions from the world of reality shot unexpectedly through his mind.

"So it is all finished!" he thought. "And how has it all happened? How quickly! Now I know that not because of her alone, nor of myself alone, but because of everyone, it must inevitably come about. They are all expecting it, they are so sure that it will happen that I cannot, I cannot, disappoint them. But how will it be? I do not know, but it will certainly happen!" thought Pierre, glancing at those dazzling shoulders close to his eyes.

Or he would suddenly feel ashamed of he knew not what. He felt it awkward to attract everyone's attention and to be considered a lucky man and, with his plain face, to be looked on as a sort of Paris possessed of a Helen. "But no doubt it always is and must be so!" he consoled himself. "And besides, what have I done to bring it about? How did it begin? I traveled from Moscow with Prince Vasili. Then there was nothing. So why should I not stay at his house? Then I played cards with her and picked up her reticule and drove out with her. How did it begin, when did it all come about?" And here he was sitting by her side as her betrothed, seeing, hearing, feeling her nearness, her breathing, her movements, her beauty. Then it would suddenly seem to him that it was not she but he was so unusually beautiful, and that that was why they all looked so at him, and flattered by this general admiration he would expand his chest, raise his head, and rejoice at his good fortune. Suddenly he heard a familiar voice repeating something to him a second time. But Pierre was so absorbed that he did not understand what was said.

"I am asking you when you last heard from Bolkonski," repeated Prince Vasili a third time. "How absent-minded you are, my dear fellow."

Prince Vasili smiled, and Pierre noticed that everyone was smiling at him and Helene. "Well, what of it, if you all know it?" thought Pierre. "What of it? It's the truth!" and he himself smiled his gentle childlike smile, and Helene smiled too.

"When did you get the letter? Was it from Olmutz?" repeated Prince Vasili, who pretended to want to know this in order to settle a dispute.

"How can one talk or think of such trifles?" thought Pierre.

"Yes, from Olmutz," he answered, with a sigh.

After supper Pierre with his partner followed the others into the drawing room. The guests began to disperse, some without taking leave of Helene. Some, as if unwilling to distract her from an important occupation, came up to her for a moment and made haste to go away, refusing to let her see them off. The diplomatist preserved a mournful silence as he left the drawing room. He pictured the vanity of his diplomatic career in comparison with Pierre's happiness. The old general grumbled at his wife when she asked how his leg was. "Oh, the old fool," he thought. "That Princess Helene will be beautiful still when she's fifty."

"I think I may congratulate you," whispered Anna Pavlovna to the old princess, kissing her soundly. "If I hadn't this headache I'd have stayed longer."

The old princess did not reply, she was tormented by jealousy of her daughter's happiness.

While the guests were taking their leave Pierre remained for a long time alone with Helene in the little drawing room where they were sitting. He had often before, during the last six weeks, remained alone with her, but had never spoken to her of love. Now he felt that it was inevitable, but he could not make up his mind to take the final step. He felt ashamed; he felt that he was occupying someone else's place here beside Helene. "This happiness is not for you," some inner voice whispered to him. "This happiness is for those who have not in them what there is in you."

But, as he had to say something, he began by asking her whether she was satisfied with the party. She replied in her usual simple manner that this name day of hers had been one of the pleasantest she had ever had.

Some of the nearest relatives had not yet left. They were sitting in the large drawing room. Prince Vasili came up to Pierre with languid footsteps. Pierre rose and said it was getting late. Prince Vasili gave him a look of stern inquiry, as though what Pierre had just said was so strange that one could not take it in. But then the expression of severity changed, and he drew Pierre's hand downwards, made him sit down, and smiled affectionately.

"Well, Lelya?" he asked, turning instantly to his daughter and addressing her with the careless tone of habitual tenderness natural to parents who have petted their children from babyhood, but which Prince Vasili had only acquired by imitating other parents.

And he again turned to Pierre.

"Sergey Kuzmich- From all sides-" he said, unbuttoning the top button of his waistcoat.

Pierre smiled, but his smile showed that he knew it was not the story about Sergey Kuzmich that interested Prince Vasili just then, and Prince Vasili saw that Pierre knew this. He suddenly muttered something and went away. It seemed to Pierre that even the prince was disconcerted. The sight of the discomposure of that old man of the world touched Pierre: he looked at Helene and she too seemed disconcerted, and her look seemed to say: "Well, it is your own fault."

"The step must be taken but I cannot, I cannot!" thought Pierre, and he again began speaking about indifferent matters, about Sergey Kuzmich, asking what the point of the story was as he had not heard it properly. Helene answered with a smile that she too had missed it.

When Prince Vasili returned to the drawing room, the princess, his wife, was talking in low tones to the elderly lady about Pierre.

"Of course, it is a very brilliant match, but happiness, my dear..."

"Marriages are made in heaven," replied the elderly lady.

Prince Vasili passed by, seeming not to hear the ladies, and sat down on a sofa in a far corner of the room. He closed his eyes and seemed to be dozing. His head sank forward and then he roused himself.

"Aline," he said to his wife, "go and see what they are about."

The princess went up to the door, passed by it with a dignified and indifferent air, and glanced into the little drawing room. Pierre and Helene still sat talking just as before.

"Still the same," she said to her husband.

Prince Vasili frowned, twisting his mouth, his cheeks quivered and his face assumed the coarse, unpleasant expression peculiar to him. Shaking himself, he rose, threw back his head, and with resolute steps went past the ladies into the little drawing room. With quick steps he went joyfully up to Pierre. His face was so unusually triumphant that Pierre rose in alarm on seeing it.

"Thank God!" said Prince Vasili. "My wife has told me everything!- (He put one arm around Pierre and the other around his daughter.)- "My dear boy... Lelya... I am very pleased." (His voice trembled.) "I loved your father... and she will make you a good wife... God bless you!..."

He embraced his daughter, and then again Pierre, and kissed him with his malodorous mouth. Tears actually moistened his cheeks.

"Princess, come here!" he shouted.

The old princess came in and also wept. The elderly lady was using her handkerchief too. Pierre was kissed, and he kissed the beautiful Helene's hand several times. After a while they were left alone again.

"All this had to be and could not be otherwise," thought Pierre, "so it is useless to ask whether it is good or bad. It is good because it's definite and one is rid of the old tormenting doubt." Pierre held the hand of his betrothed in silence, looking at her beautiful bosom as it rose and fell.

"Helene!" he said aloud and paused.

"Something special is always said in such cases," he thought, but could not remember what it was that people say. He looked at her face. She drew nearer to him. Her face flushed.

"Oh, take those off... those..." she said, pointing to his spectacles.

Pierre took them off, and his eyes, besides the strange look eyes have from which spectacles have just been removed, had also a frightened and inquiring look. He was about to stoop over her hand and kiss it, but with a rapid, almost brutal movement of her head, she intercepted his lips and met them with her own. Her face struck Pierre, by its altered, unpleasantly excited expression.

"It is too late now, it's done; besides I love her," thought Pierre.

"Je vous aime!"* he said, remembering what has to be said at such moments: but his words sounded so weak that he felt ashamed of himself.

* "I love you."

Six weeks later he was married, and settled in Count Bezukhov's large, newly furnished Petersburg house, the happy possessor, as people said, of a wife who was a celebrated beauty and of millions of money.


CHAPTER III

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Old Prince Nicholas Bolkonski received a letter from Prince Vasili in November, 1805, announcing that he and his son would be paying him a visit. "I am starting on a journey of inspection, and of course I shall think nothing of an extra seventy miles to come and see you at the same time, my honored benefactor," wrote Prince Vasili. "My son Anatole is accompanying me on his way to the army, so I hope you will allow him personally to express the deep respect that, emulating his father, he feels for you."

"It seems that there will be no need to bring Mary out, suitors are coming to us of their own accord," incautiously remarked the little princess on hearing the news.

Prince Nicholas frowned, but said nothing.

A fortnight after the letter Prince Vasili's servants came one evening in advance of him, and he and his son arrived next day.

Old Bolkonski had always had a poor opinion of Prince Vasili's character, but more so recently, since in the new reigns of Paul and Alexander Prince Vasili had risen to high position and honors. And now, from the hints contained in his letter and given by the little princess, he saw which way the wind was blowing, and his low opinion changed into a feeling of contemptuous ill will. He snorted whenever he mentioned him. On the day of Prince Vasili's arrival, Prince Bolkonski was particularly discontented and out of temper. Whether he was in a bad temper because Prince Vasili was coming, or whether his being in a bad temper made him specially annoyed at Prince Vasili's visit, he was in a bad temper, and in the morning Tikhon had already advised the architect not to go the prince with his report.

"Do you hear how he's walking?" said Tikhon, drawing the architect's attention to the sound of the prince's footsteps. "Stepping flat on his heels- we know what that means...."

However, at nine o'clock the prince, in his velvet coat with a sable collar and cap, went out for his usual walk. It had snowed the day before and the path to the hothouse, along which the prince was in the habit of walking, had been swept: the marks of the broom were still visible in the snow and a shovel had been left sticking in one of the soft snowbanks that bordered both sides of the path. The prince went through the conservatories, the serfs' quarters, and the outbuildings, frowning and silent.

"Can a sleigh pass?" he asked his overseer, a venerable man, resembling his master in manners and looks, who was accompanying him back to the house.

"The snow is deep. I am having the avenue swept, your honor."

The prince bowed his head and went up to the porch. "God be thanked," thought the overseer, "the storm has blown over!"

"It would have been hard to drive up, your honor," he added. "I heard, your honor, that a minister is coming to visit your honor."

The prince turned round to the overseer and fixed his eyes on him, frowning.

"What? A minister? What minister? Who gave orders?" he said in his shrill, harsh voice. "The road is not swept for the princess my daughter, but for a minister! For me, there are no ministers!"

"Your honor, I thought..."

"You thought!" shouted the prince, his words coming more and more rapidly and indistinctly. "You thought!... Rascals! Blackgaurds!... I'll teach you to think!" and lifting his stick he swung it and would have hit Alpatych, the overseer, had not the latter instinctively avoided the blow. "Thought... Blackguards..." shouted the prince rapidly.

But although Alpatych, frightened at his own temerity in avoiding the stroke, came up to the prince, bowing his bald head resignedly before him, or perhaps for that very reason, the prince, though he continued to shout: " Blackgaurds!... Throw the snow back on the road!" did not lift his stick again but hurried into the house.

Before dinner, Princess Mary and Mademoiselle Bourienne, who knew that the prince was in a bad humor, stood awaiting him; Mademoiselle Bourienne with a radiant face that said: "I know nothing, I am the same as usual," and Princess Mary pale, frightened, and with downcast eyes. What she found hardest to bear was to know that on such occasions she ought to behave like Mademoiselle Bourienne, but could not. She thought: "If I seem not to notice he will think that I do not sympathize with him; if I seem sad and out of spirits myself, he will say (as he has done before) that I'm in the dumps."

The prince looked at his daughter's frightened face and snorted.

"Fool... or dummy!" he muttered.

"And the other one is not here. They've been telling tales," he thought- referring to the little princess who was not in the dining room.

"Where is the princess?" he asked. "Hiding?"

"She is not very well," answered Mademoiselle Bourienne with a bright smile, "so she won't come down. It is natural in her state."

"Hm! Hm!" muttered the prince, sitting down.

His plate seemed to him not quite clean, and pointing to a spot he flung it away. Tikhon caught it and handed it to a footman. The little princess was not unwell, but had such an overpowering fear of the prince that, hearing he was in a bad humor, she had decided not to appear.

"I am afraid for the baby," she said to Mademoiselle Bourienne: "Heaven knows what a fright might do."

In general at Bald Hills the little princess lived in constant fear, and with a sense of antipathy to the old prince which she did not realize because the fear was so much the stronger feeling. The prince reciprocated this antipathy, but it was overpowered by his contempt for her. When the little princess had grown accustomed to life at Bald Hills, she took a special fancy to Mademoiselle Bourienne, spent whole days with her, asked her to sleep in her room, and often talked with her about the old prince and criticized him.

"So we are to have visitors, mon prince?" remarked Mademoiselle Bourienne, unfolding her white napkin with her rosy fingers. "His Excellency Prince Vasili Kuragin and his son, I understand?" she said inquiringly.

"Hm!- his excellency is a puppy.... I got him his appointment in the service," said the prince disdainfully. "Why his son is coming I don't understand. Perhaps Princess Elizabeth and Princess Mary know. I don't want him." (He looked at his blushing daughter.) "Are you unwell today? Eh? Afraid of the 'minister' as that idiot Alpatych called him this morning?"

"No, mon pere."

Though Mademoiselle Bourienne had been so unsuccessful in her choice of a subject, she did not stop talking, but chattered about the conservatories and the beauty of a flower that had just opened, and after the soup the prince became more genial.

After dinner, he went to see his daughter-in-law. The little princess was sitting at a small table, chattering with Masha, her maid. She grew pale on seeing her father-in-law.

She was much altered. She was now plain rather than pretty. Her cheeks had sunk, her lip was drawn up, and her eyes drawn down.

"Yes, I feel a kind of oppression," she said in reply to the prince's question as to how she felt.

"Do you want anything?"

"No, merci, mon pere."

"Well, all right, all right."

He left the room and went to the waiting room where Alpatych stood with bowed head.

"Has the snow been shoveled back?"

"Yes, your excellency. Forgive me for heaven's sake... It was only my stupidity."

"All right, all right," interrupted the prince, and laughing his unnatural way, he stretched out his hand for Alpatych to kiss, and then proceeded to his study.

Prince Vasili arrived that evening. He was met in the avenue by coachmen and footmen, who, with loud shouts, dragged his sleighs up to one of the lodges over the road purposely laden with snow.

Prince Vasili and Anatole had separate rooms assigned to them.

Anatole, having taken off his overcoat, sat with arms akimbo before a table on a corner of which he smilingly and absent-mindedly fixed his large and handsome eyes. He regarded his whole life as a continual round of amusement which someone for some reason had to provide for him. And he looked on this visit to a churlish old man and a rich and ugly heiress in the same way. All this might, he thought, turn out very well and amusingly. "And why not marry her if she really has so much money? That never does any harm," thought Anatole.

He shaved and scented himself with the care and elegance which had become habitual to him and, his handsome head held high, entered his father's room with the good-humored and victorious air natural to him. Prince Vasili's two valets were busy dressing him, and he looked round with much animation and cheerfully nodded to his son as the latter entered, as if to say: "Yes, that's how I want you to look."

"I say, Father, joking apart, is she very hideous?" Anatole asked, as if continuing a conversation the subject of which had often been mentioned during the journey.

"Enough! What nonsense! Above all, try to be respectful and cautious with the old prince."

"If he starts a row I'll go away," said Prince Anatole. "I can't bear those old men! Eh?"

"Remember, for you everything depends on this."

In the meantime, not only was it known in the maidservants' rooms that the minister and his son had arrived, but the appearance of both had been minutely described. Princess Mary was sitting alone in her room, vainly trying to master her agitation.

"Why did they write, why did Lise tell me about it? It can never happen!" she said, looking at herself in the glass. " How shall I enter the drawing room? Even if I like him I can't now be myself with him." The mere thought of her father's look filled her with terror. The little princess and Mademoiselle Bourienne had already received from Masha, the lady's maid, the necessary report of how handsome the minister's son was, with his rosy cheeks and dark eyebrows, and with what difficulty the father had dragged his legs upstairs while the son had followed him like an eagle, three steps at a time. Having received this information, the little princess and Mademoiselle Bourienne, whose chattering voices had reached her from the corridor, went into Princess Mary's room.

"You know they've come, Marie?" said the little princess, waddling in, and sinking heavily into an armchair.

She was no longer in the loose gown she generally wore in the morning, but had on one of her best dresses. Her hair was carefully done and her face was animated, which, however, did not conceal its sunken and faded outlines. Dressed as she used to be in Petersburg society, it was still more noticeable how much plainer she had become. Some unobtrusive touch had been added to Mademoiselle Bourienne's toilet which rendered her fresh and prettyface yet more attractive.

"What! Are you going to remain as you are, dear princess?" she began. "They'll be announcing that the gentlemen are in the drawing room and we shall have to go down, and you have not smartened yourself up at all!"

The little princess got up, rang for the maid, and hurriedly and merrily began to devise and carry out a plan of how Princess Mary should be dressed. Princess Mary's self-esteem was wounded by the fact that the arrival of a suitor agitated her, and still more so by both her companions' not having the least conception that it could be otherwise. To tell them that she felt ashamed for herself and for them would be to betray her agitation, while to decline their offers to dress her would prolong their banter and insistence. She flushed, her beautiful eyes grew dim, red blotches came on her face, and it took on the unattractive martyrlike expression it so often wore, as she submitted herself to Mademoiselle Bourienne and Lise. Both these women quite sincerely tried to make her look pretty. She was so plain that neither of them could think of her as a rival, so they began dressing her with perfect sincerity, and with the naive and firm conviction women have that dress can make a face pretty.

"No really, my dear, this dress is not pretty," said Lise, looking sideways at Princess Mary from a little distance. " You have a maroon dress, have it fetched. Really! You know the fate of your whole life may be at stake. But this one is too light, it's not becoming!"

It was not the dress, but the face and whole figure of Princess Mary that was not pretty, but neither Mademoiselle Bourienne nor the little princess felt this; they still thought that if a blue ribbon were placed in the hair, the hair combed up, and the blue scarf arranged lower on the best maroon dress, and so on, all would be well. They forgot that the frightened face and the figure could not be altered, and that however they might change the setting and adornment of that face, it would still remain piteous and plain. After two or three changes to which Princess Mary meekly submitted, just as her hair had been arranged on the top of her head (a style that quite altered and spoiled her looks) and she had put on a maroon dress with a pale-blue scarf, the little princess walked twice round her, now adjusting a fold of the dress with her little hand, now arranging the scarf and looking at her with her head bent first on one side and then on the other.

"No, it will not do," she said decidedly, clasping her hands. "No, Mary, really this dress does not suit you. I prefer you in your little gray everyday dress. Now please, do it for my sake. Katie," she said to the maid, "bring the princess her gray dress, and you'll see, Mademoiselle Bourienne, how I shall arrange it," she added, smiling with a foretaste of artistic pleasure.

But when Katie brought the required dress, Princess Mary remained sitting motionless before the glass, looking at her face, and saw in the mirror her eyes full of tears and her mouth quivering, ready to burst into sobs.

"Come, dear princess," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, "just one more little effort."

The little princess, taking the dress from the maid, came up to Princess Mary.

"Well, now we'll arrange something quite simple and becoming," she said.

The three voices, hers, Mademoiselle Bourienne's, and Katie's, who was laughing at something, mingled in a merry sound, like the chirping of birds.

"No, leave me alone," said Princess Mary.

Her voice sounded so serious and so sad that the chirping of the birds was silenced at once. They looked at the beautiful, large, thoughtful eyes full of tears and of thoughts, gazing shiningly and imploringly at them, and understood that it was useless and even cruel to insist.

"At least, change your coiffure," said the little princess. "Didn't I tell you," she went on, turning reproachfully to Mademoiselle Bourienne, "Mary's is a face which such a coiffure does not suit in the least. Not in the least! Please change it."

"Leave me alone, please leave me alone! It is all quite the same to me," answered a voice struggling with tears.

Mademoiselle Bourienne and the little princess had to own to themselves that Princess Mary in this guise looked very plain, worse than usual, but it was too late. She was looking at them with an expression they both knew, an expression thoughtful and sad. This expression in Princess Mary did not frighten them (she never inspired fear in anyone), but they knew that when it appeared on her face, she became mute and was not to be shaken in her determination.

"You will change it, won't you?" said Lise. And as Princess Mary gave no answer, she left the room.

Princess Mary was left alone. She did not comply with Lise's request, she not only left her hair as it was, but did not even look in her glass. Letting her arms fall helplessly, she sat with downcast eyes and pondered. A husband, a man, a strong dominant and strangely attractive being rose in her imagination, and carried her into a totally different happy world of his own. She fancied a child, her own- such as she had seen the day before in the arms of her nurse's daughter- at her own breast, the husband standing by and gazing tenderly at her and the child. " But no, it is impossible, I am too ugly," she thought.

"Please come to tea. The prince will be out in a moment," came the maid's voice at the door.

She roused herself, and felt appalled at what she had been thinking, and before going down she went into the room where the icons hung and, her eyes fixed on the dark face of a large icon of the Saviour lit by a lamp, she stood before it with folded hands for a few moments. A painful doubt filled her soul. Could the joy of love, of earthly love for a man, be for her? In her thoughts of marriage Princess Mary dreamed of happiness and of children, but her strongest, most deeply hidden longing was for earthly love. The more she tried to hide this feeling from others and even from herself, the stronger it grew. "O God," she said, "how am I to stifle in my heart these temptations of the devil? How am I to renounce forever these vile fancies, so as peacefully to fulfill Thy will?" And scarcely had she put that question than God gave her the answer in her own heart. "Desire nothing for thyself, seek nothing, be not anxious or envious. Man's future and thy own fate must remain hidden from thee, but live so that thou mayest be ready for anything. If it be God's will to prove thee in the duties of marriage, be ready to fulfill His will." With this consoling thought (but yet with a hope for the fulfillment of her forbidden earthly longing) Princess Mary sighed, and having crossed herself went down, thinking neither of her gown and coiffure nor of how she would go in nor of what she would say. What could all that matter in comparison with the will of God, without Whose care not a hair of man's head can fall?


CHAPTER IV

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When Princess Mary came down, Prince Vasili and his son were already in the drawing room, talking to the little princess and Mademoiselle Bourienne. When she entered with her heavy step, treading on her heels, the gentlemen and Mademoiselle Bourienne rose and the little princess, indicating her to the gentlemen, said: "Voila Marie!" Princess Mary saw them all and saw them in detail. She saw Prince Vasili's face, serious for an instant at the sight of her, but immediately smiling again, and the little princess curiously noting the impression "Marie" produced on the visitors. And she saw Mademoiselle Bourienne, with her ribbon and pretty face, and her unusually animated look which was fixed on him, but him she could not see, she only saw something large, brilliant, and handsome moving toward her as she entered the room. Prince Vasili approached first, and she kissed the bold forehead that bent over her hand and answered his question by saying that, on the contrary, she remembered him quite well. Then Anatole came up to her. She still could not see him. She only felt a soft hand taking hers firmly, and she touched with her lips a white forehead, over which was beautiful light-brown hair smelling of pomade. When she looked up at him she was struck by his beauty. Anatole stood with his right thumb under a button of his uniform, his chest expanded and his back drawn in, slightly swinging one foot, and, with his head a little bent, looked with beaming face at the princess without speaking and evidently not thinking about her at all. Anatole was not quick-witted, nor ready or eloquent in conversation, but he had the faculty, so invaluable in society, of composure and imperturbable self-possession. If a man lacking in self-confidence remains dumb on a first introduction and betrays a consciousness of the impropriety of such silence and an anxiety to find something to say, the effect is bad. But Anatole was dumb, swung his foot, and smilingly examined the princess' hair. It was evident that he could be silent in this way for a very long time. "If anyone finds this silence inconvenient, let him talk, but I don't want to"' he seemed to say. Besides this, in his behavior to women Anatole had a manner which particularly inspires in them curiosity, awe, and even love- a supercilious consciousness of his own superiority. It was was as if he said to them: "I know you, I know you, but why should I bother about you? You'd be only too glad, of course." Perhaps he did not really think this when he met women- even probably he did not, for in general he thought very little- but his looks and manner gave that impression. The princess felt this, and as if wishing to show him that she did not even dare expect to interest him, she turned to his father. The conversation was general and animated, thanks to Princess Lise's voice and little downy lip that lifted over her white teeth. She met Prince Vasili with that playful manner often employed by lively chatty people, and consisting in the assumption that between the person they so address and themselves there are some semi-private, long-established jokes and amusing reminiscences, though no such reminiscences really exist- just as none existed in this case. Prince Vasili readily adopted her tone and the little princess also drew Anatole, whom she hardly knew, into these amusing recollections of things that had never occurred. Mademoiselle Bourienne also shared them and even Princess Mary felt herself pleasantly made to share in these merry reminiscences.

"Here at least we shall have the benefit of your company all to ourselves, dear prince," said the little princess (of course, in French) to Prince Vasili. " It's not as at Annette's* receptions where you always ran away; you remember cette chere Annette!"

* Pavlovna.

"Ah, but you won't talk politics to me like Annette!"

"And our little tea table?"

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

undi3s [2004-02-12 15:58:55 +0000 UTC]

WAR AND PEACE
by Leo Tolstoy

BOOK 2: 1805

CHAPTER I

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In October, 1805, a Russian army was occupying the villages and towns of the Archduchy of Austria, and yet other regiments freshly arriving from Russia were settling near the fortress of Braunau and burdening the inhabitants on whom they were quartered. Braunau was the headquarters of the commander-in-chief, Kutuzov.

On October 11, 1805, one of the infantry regiments that had just reached Braunau had halted half a mile from the town, waiting to be inspected by the commander in chief. Despite the un-Russian appearance of the locality and surroundings- fruit gardens, stone fences, tiled roofs, and hills in the distance- and despite the fact that the inhabitants (who gazed with curiosity at the soldiers) were not Russians, the regiment had just the appearance of any Russian regiment preparing for an inspection anywhere in the heart of Russia.

On the evening of the last day's march an order had been received that the commander in chief would inspect the regiment on the march. Though the words of the order were not clear to the regimental commander, and the question arose whether the troops were to be in marching order or not, it was decided at a consultation between the battalion commanders to present the regiment in parade order, on the principle that it is always better to "bow too low than not bow low enough." So the soldiers, after a twenty-mile march, were kept mending and cleaning all night long without closing their eyes, while the adjutants and company commanders calculated and reckoned, and by morning the regiment- instead of the straggling, disorderly crowd it had been on its last march the day before- presented a well-ordered array of two thousand men each of whom knew his place and his duty, had every button and every strap in place, and shone with cleanliness. And not only externally was all in order, but had it pleased the commander in chief to look under the uniforms he would have found on every man a clean shirt, and in every knapsack the appointed number of articles, "awl, soap, and all," as the soldiers say. There was only one circumstance concerning which no one could be at ease. It was the state of the soldiers' boots. More than half the men's boots were in holes. But this defect was not due to any fault of the regimental commander, for in spite of repeated demands boots had not been issued by the Austrian commissariat, and the regiment had marched some seven hundred miles.

The commander of the regiment was an elderly, choleric, stout, and thick-set general with grizzled eyebrows and whiskers, and wider from chest to back than across the shoulders. He had on a brand-new uniform showing the creases where it had been folded and thick gold epaulettes which seemed to stand rather than lie down on his massive shoulders. He had the air of a man happily performing one of the most solemn duties of his life. He walked about in front of the line and at every step pulled himself up, slightly arching his back. It was plain that the commander admired his regiment, rejoiced in it, and that his whole mind was engrossed by it, yet his strut seemed to indicate that, besides military matters, social interests and the fair sex occupied no small part of his thoughts.

"Well, Michael Mitrich, sir?" he said, addressing one of the battalion commanders who smilingly pressed forward (it was plain that they both felt happy). "We had our hands full last night. However, I think the regiment is not a bad one, eh?"

The battalion commander perceived the jovial irony and laughed.

"It would not be turned off the field even on the Tsaritsin Meadow."

"What?" asked the commander.

At that moment, on the road from the town on which signalers had been posted, two men appeared on horse back. They were an aide-decamp followed by a Cossack.

The aide-de-camp was sent to confirm the order which had not been clearly worded the day before, namely, that the commander in chief wished to see the regiment just in the state in which it had been on the march: in their greatcoats, and packs, and without any preparation whatever.

A member of the Hofkriegsrath from Vienna had come to Kutuzov the day before with proposals and demands for him to join up with the army of the Archduke Ferdinand and Mack, and Kutuzov, not considering this junction advisable, meant, among other arguments in support of his view, to show the Austrian general the wretched state in which the troops arrived from Russia. With this object he intended to meet the regiment; so the worse the condition it was in, the better pleased the commander in chief would be. Though the aide-de-camp did not know these circumstances, he nevertheless delivered the definite order that the men should be in their greatcoats and in marching order, and that the commander in chief would otherwise be dissatisfied. On hearing this the regimental commander hung his head, silently shrugged his shoulders, and spread out his arms with a choleric gesture.

"A fine mess we've made of it!" he remarked.

"There now! Didn't I tell you, Michael Mitrich, that if it was said 'on the march' it meant in greatcoats?" said he reproachfully to the battalion commander. "Oh, my God!" he added, stepping resolutely forward. "Company commanders!" he shouted in a voice accustomed to command. "Sergeants major!... How soon will he be here?" he asked the aide-de-camp with a respectful politeness evidently relating to the personage he was referring to.

"In an hour's time, I should say."

"Shall we have time to change clothes?"

"I don't know, General...."

The regimental commander, going up to the line himself, ordered the soldiers to change into their greatcoats. The company commanders ran off to their companies, the sergeants major began bustling (the greatcoats were not in very good condition), and instantly the squares that had up to then been in regular order and silent began to sway and stretch and hum with voices. On all sides soldiers were running to and fro, throwing up their knapsacks with a jerk of their shoulders and pulling the straps over their heads, unstrapping their overcoats and drawing the sleeves on with upraised arms.

In half an hour all was again in order, only the squares had become gray instead of black. The regimental commander walked with his jerky steps to the front of the regiment and examined it from a distance.

"Whatever is this? This!" he shouted and stood still. "Commander of the third company!"

"Commander of the third company wanted by the general!... commander to the general... third company to the commander." The words passed along the lines and an adjutant ran to look for the missing officer.

When the eager but misrepeated words had reached their destination in a cry of: "The general to the third company," the missing officer appeared from behind his company and, though he was a middle-aged man and not in the habit of running, trotted awkwardly stumbling on his toes toward the general. The captain's face showed the uneasiness of a schoolboy who is told to repeat a lesson he has not learned. Spots appeared on his nose, the redness of which was evidently due to intemperance, and his mouth twitched nervously. The general looked the captain up and down as he came up panting, slackening his pace as he approached.

"You will soon be dressing your men in petticoats! What is this?" shouted the regimental commander, thrusting forward his jaw and pointing at a soldier in the ranks of the third company in a greatcoat of bluish cloth, which contrasted with the others. "What have you been after? The commander in chief is expected and you leave your place? Eh? I'll teach you to dress the men in fancy coats for a parade.... Eh...?"

The commander of the company, with his eyes fixed on his superior, pressed two fingers more and more rigidly to his cap, as if in this pressure lay his only hope of salvation.

"Well, why don't you speak? Whom have you got there dressed up as a Hungarian?" said the commander with an austere gibe.

"Your excellency..."

"Well, your excellency, what? Your excellency! But what about your excellency?... nobody knows."

"Your excellency, it's the officer Dolokhov, who has been reduced to the ranks," said the captain softly.

"Well? Has he been degraded into a field marshal, or into a soldier? If a soldier, he should be dressed in regulation uniform like the others."

"Your excellency, you gave him leave yourself, on the march."

"Gave him leave? Leave? That's just like you young men," said the regimental commander cooling down a little. "Leave indeed.... One says a word to you and you... What?" he added with renewed irritation, "I beg you to dress your men decently."

And the commander, turning to look at the adjutant, directed his jerky steps down the line. He was evidently pleased at his own display of anger and walking up to the regiment wished to find a further excuse for wrath. Having snapped at an officer for an unpolished badge, at another because his line was not straight, he reached the third company.

"H-o-o-w are you standing? Where's your leg? Your leg?" shouted the commander with a tone of suffering in his voice, while there were still five men between him and Dolokhov with his bluish-gray uniform.

Dolokhov slowly straightened his bent knee, looking straight with his clear, insolent eyes in the general's face.

"Why a blue coat? Off with it... Sergeant major! Change his coat... the ras..." he did not finish.

"General, I must obey orders, but I am not bound to endure..." Dolokhov hurriedly interrupted.

"No talking in the ranks!... No talking, no talking!"

"Not bound to endure insults," Dolokhov concluded in loud, ringing tones.

The eyes of the general and the soldier met. The general became silent, angrily pulling down his tight scarf.

"I request you to have the goodness to change your coat," he said as he turned away.

CHAPTER II

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"He's coming!" shouted the signaler at that moment.

The regimental commander, flushing, ran to his horse, seized the stirrup with trembling hands, threw his body across the saddle, righted himself, drew his saber, and with a happy and resolute countenance, opening his mouth awry, prepared to shout. The regiment fluttered like a bird preening its plumage and became motionless.

"Att-ention!" shouted the regimental commander in a soul-shaking voice which expressed joy for himself, severity for the regiment, and welcome for the approaching chief.

Along the broad country road, edged on both sides by trees, came a high, light blue Viennese caleche, slightly creaking on its springs and drawn by six horses at a smart trot. Behind the caleche galloped the suite and a convoy of Croats. Beside Kutuzov sat an Austrian general, in a white uniform that looked strange among the Russian black ones. The caleche stopped in front of the regiment. Kutuzov and the Austrian general were talking in low voices and Kutuzov smiled slightly as treading heavily he stepped down from the carriage just as if those two thousand men breathlessly gazing at him and the regimental commander did not exist.

The word of command rang out, and again the regiment quivered, as with a jingling sound it presented arms. Then amidst a dead silence the feeble voice of the commander in chief was heard. The regiment roared, "Health to your ex... len... len... lency!" and again all became silent. At first Kutuzov stood still while the regiment moved; then he and the general in white, accompanied by the suite, walked between the ranks.

From the way the regimental commander saluted the commander in chief and devoured him with his eyes, drawing himself up obsequiously, and from the way he walked through the ranks behind the generals, bending forward and hardly able to restrain his jerky movements, and from the way he darted forward at every word or gesture of the commander in chief, it was evident that he performed his duty as a subordinate with even greater zeal than his duty as a commander. Thanks to the strictness and assiduity of its commander the regiment, in comparison with others that had reached Braunau at the same time, was in splendid condition. There were only 217 sick and stragglers. Everything was in good order except the boots.

Kutuzov walked through the ranks, sometimes stopping to say a few friendly words to officers he had known in the Turkish war, sometimes also to the soldiers. Looking at their boots he several times shook his head sadly, pointing them out to the Austrian general with an expression which seemed to say that he was not blaming anyone, but could not help noticing what a bad state of things it was. The regimental commander ran forward on each such occasion, fearing to miss a single word of the commander in chief's regarding the regiment. Behind Kutuzov, at a distance that allowed every softly spoken word to be heard, followed some twenty men of his suite. These gentlemen talked among themselves and sometimes laughed. Nearest of all to the commander in chief walked a handsome adjutant. This was Prince Bolkonski. Beside him was his comrade Nesvitski, a tall staff officer, extremely stout, with a kindly, smiling, handsome face and moist eyes. Nesvitski could hardly keep from laughter provoked by a swarthy hussar officer who walked beside him. This hussar, with a grave face and without a smile or a change in the expression of his fixed eyes, watched the regimental commander's back and mimicked his every movement. Each time the commander started and bent forward, the hussar started and bent forward in exactly the same manner. Nesvitski laughed and nudged the others to make them look at the wag.

Kutuzov walked slowly and languidly past thousands of eyes which were starting from their sockets to watch their chief. On reaching the third company he suddenly stopped. His suite, not having expected this, involuntarily came closer to him.

"Ah, Timokhin!" said he, recognizing the red-nosed captain who had been reprimanded on account of the blue greatcoat.

One would have thought it impossible for a man to stretch himself more than Timokhin had done when he was reprimanded by the regimental commander, but now that the commander in chief addressed him he drew himself up to such an extent that it seemed he could not have sustained it had the commander in chief continued to look at him, and so Kutuzov, who evidently understood his case and wished him nothing but good, quickly turned away, a scarcely perceptible smile flitting over his scarred and puffy face.

"Another Ismail comrade," said he. "A brave officer! Are you satisfied with him?" he asked the regimental commander.

And the latter- unconscious that he was being reflected in the hussar officer as in a looking glass- started, moved forward, and answered: "Highly satisfied, your excellency!"

"We all have our weaknesses," said Kutuzov smiling and walking away from him. "He used to have a predilection for Bacchus."

The regimental commander was afraid he might be blamed for this and did not answer. The hussar at that moment noticed the face of the red-nosed captain and his drawn-in stomach, and mimicked his expression and pose with such exactitude that Nesvitski could not help laughing. Kutuzov turned round. The officer evidently had complete control of his face, and while Kutuzov was turning managed to make a grimace and then assume a most serious, deferential, and innocent expression.

The third company was the last, and Kutuzov pondered, apparently trying to recollect something. Prince Andrew stepped forward from among the suite and said in French:

"You told me to remind you of the officer Dolokhov, reduced to the ranks in this regiment."

"Where is Dolokhov?" asked Kutuzov.

Dolokhov, who had already changed into a soldier's gray greatcoat, did not wait to be called. The shapely figure of the fair-haired soldier, with his clear blue eyes, stepped forward from the ranks, went up to the commander in chief, and presented arms.

"Have you a complaint to make?" Kutuzov asked with a slight frown.

"This is Dolokhov," said Prince Andrew.

"Ah!" said Kutuzov. "I hope this will be a lesson to you. Do your duty. The Emperor is gracious, and I shan't forget you if you deserve well."

The clear blue eyes looked at the commander in chief just as boldly as they had looked at the regimental commander, seeming by their expression to tear open the veil of convention that separates a commander in chief so widely from a private.

"One thing I ask of your excellency," Dolokhov said in his firm, ringing, deliberate voice. "I ask an opportunity to atone for my fault and prove my devotion to His Majesty the Emperor and to Russia!"

Kutuzov turned away. The same smile of the eyes with which he had turned from Captain Timokhin again flitted over his face. He turned away with a grimace as if to say that everything Dolokhov had said to him and everything he could say had long been known to him, that he was weary of it and it was not at all what he wanted. He turned away and went to the carriage.

The regiment broke up into companies, which went to their appointed quarters near Braunau, where they hoped to receive boots and clothes and to rest after their hard marches.

"You won't bear me a grudge, Prokhor Ignatych?" said the regimental commander, overtaking the third company on its way to its quarters and riding up to Captain Timokhin who was walking in front. (The regimental commander's face now that the inspection was happily over beamed with irrepressible delight.) "It's in the Emperor's service... it can't be helped... one is sometimes a bit hasty on parade... I am the first to apologize, you know me!... He was very pleased!" And he held out his hand to the captain.

"Don't mention it, General, as if I'd be so bold!" replied the captain, his nose growing redder as he gave a smile which showed where two front teeth were missing that had been knocked out by the butt end of a gun at Ismail.

"And tell Mr. Dolokhov that I won't forget him- he may be quite easy. And tell me, please- I've been meaning to ask- how is to ask- how is he behaving himself, and in general..."

"As far as the service goes he is quite punctilious, your excellency; but his character..." said Timokhin.

"And what about his character?" asked the regimental commander.

"It's different on different days," answered the captain. "One day he is sensible, well educated, and good-natured, and the next he's a wild beast.... In Poland, if you please, he nearly killed a Jew."

"Oh, well, well!" remarked the regimental commander. "Still, one must have pity on a young man in misfortune. You know he has important connections... Well, then, you just..."

"I will, your excellency," said Timokhin, showing by his smile that he understood his commander's wish.

"Well, of course, of course!"

The regimental commander sought out Dolokhov in the ranks and, reining in his horse, said to him:

"After the next affair... epaulettes."

Dolokhov looked round but did not say anything, nor did the mocking smile on his lips change.

"Well, that's all right," continued the regimental commander. "A cup of vodka for the men from me," he added so that the soldiers could hear. "I thank you all! God be praised!" and he rode past that company and overtook the next one.

"Well, he's really a good fellow, one can serve under him," said Timokhin to the subaltern beside him.

"In a word, a hearty one..." said the subaltern, laughing (the regimental commander was nicknamed King of Hearts).

The cheerful mood of their officers after the inspection infected the soldiers. The company marched on gaily. The soldiers' voices could be heard on every side.

"And they said Kutuzov was blind of one eye?"

"And so he is! Quite blind!"

"No, friend, he is sharper-eyed than you are. Boots and leg bands... he noticed everything..."

"When he looked at my feet, friend... well, thinks I..."

"And that other one with him, the Austrian, looked as if he were smeared with chalk- as white as flour! I suppose they polish him up as they do the guns."

"I say, Fedeshon!... Did he say when the battles are to begin? You were near him. Everybody said that Buonaparte himself was at Braunau."

"Buonaparte himself!... Just listen to the fool, what he doesn't know! The Prussians are up in arms now. The Austrians, you see, are putting them down. When they've been put down, the war with Buonaparte will begin. And he says Buonaparte is in Braunau! Shows you're a fool. You'd better listen more carefully!"

"What devils these quartermasters are! See, the fifth company is turning into the village already... they will have their buckwheat cooked before we reach our quarters."

"Give me a biscuit, you devil!"

"And did you give me tobacco yesterday? That's just it, friend! Ah, well, never mind, here you are."

"They might call a halt here or we'll have to do another four miles without eating."

"Wasn't it fine when those Germans gave us lifts! You just sit still and are drawn along."

"And here, friend, the people are quite beggarly. There they all seemed to be Poles- all under the Russian crown- but here they're all regular Germans."

"Singers to the front " came the captain's order.

And from the different ranks some twenty men ran to the front. A drummer, their leader, turned round facing the singers, and flourishing his arm, began a long-drawn-out soldiers' song, commencing with the words: "Morning dawned, the sun was rising," and concluding: "On then, brothers, on to glory, led by Father Kamenski." This song had been composed in the Turkish campaign and now being sung in Austria, the only change being that the words " Father Kamenski" were replaced by "Father Kutuzov."

Having jerked out these last words as soldiers do and waved his arms as if flinging something to the ground, the drummer- a lean, handsome soldier of forty- looked sternly at the singers and screwed up his eyes. Then having satisfied himself that all eyes were fixed on him, he raised both arms as if carefully lifting some invisible but precious object above his head and, holding it there for some seconds, suddenly flung it down and began:

"Oh, my bower, oh, my bower...!"

"Oh, my bower new...!" chimed in twenty voices, and the castanet player, in spite of the burden of his equipment, rushed out to the front and, walking backwards before the company, jerked his shoulders and flourished his castanets as if threatening someone. The soldiers, swinging their arms and keeping time spontaneously, marched with long steps. Behind the company the sound of wheels, the creaking of springs, and the tramp of horses' hoofs were heard. Kutuzov and his suite were returning to the town. The commander in chief made a sign that the men should continue to march at ease, and he and all his suite showed pleasure at the sound of the singing and the sight of the dancing soldier and the gay and smartly marching men. In the second file from the right flank, beside which the carriage passed the company, a blue-eyed soldier involuntarily attracted notice. It was Dolokhov marching with particular grace and boldness in time to the song and looking at those driving past as if he pitied all who were not at that moment marching with the company. The hussar cornet of Kutuzov's suite who had mimicked the regimental commander, fell back from the carriage and rode up to Dolokhov.

Hussar cornet Zherkov had at one time, in Petersburg, belonged to the wild set led by Dolokhov. Zherkov had met Dolokhov abroad as a private and had not seen fit to recognize him. But now that Kutuzov had spoken to the gentleman ranker, he addressed him with the cordiality of an old friend.

"My dear fellow, how are you?" said he through the singing, making his horse keep pace with the company.

"How am I?" Dolokhov answered coldly. "I am as you see."

The lively song gave a special flavor to the tone of free and easy gaiety with which Zherkov spoke, and to the intentional coldness of Dolokhov's reply.

"And how do you get on with the officers?" inquired Zherkov.

"All right. They are good fellows. And how have you wriggled onto the staff?"

"I was attached; I'm on duty."

Both were silent.

"She let the hawk fly upward from her wide right sleeve," went the song, arousing an involuntary sensation of courage and cheerfulness. Their conversation would probably have been different but for the effect of that song.

"Is it true that Austrians have been beaten?" asked Dolokhov.

"The devil only knows! They say so."

"I'm glad," answered Dolokhov briefly and clearly, as the song demanded.

"I say, come round some evening and we'll have a game of faro!" said Zherkov.

"Why, have you too much money?"

"Do come."

"I can't. I've sworn not to. I won't drink and won't play till I get reinstated."

"Well, that's only till the first engagement."

"We shall see."

They were again silent.

"Come if you need anything. One can at least be of use on the staff..."

Dolokhov smiled. "Don't trouble. If I want anything, I won't beg- I'll take it!"

"Well, never mind; I only..."

"And I only..."

"Good-by."

"Good health..."

"It's a long, long way.

To my native land..."

Zherkov touched his horse with the spurs; it pranced excitedly from foot to foot uncertain with which to start, then settled down, galloped past the company, and overtook the carriage, still keeping time to the song.

CHAPTER III

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On returning from the review, Kutuzov took the Austrian general into his private room and, calling his adjutant, asked for some papers relating to the condition of the troops on their arrival, and the letters that had come from the Archduke Ferdinand, who was in command of the advanced army. Prince Andrew Bolkonski came into the room with the required papers. Kutuzov and the Austrian member of the Hofkriegsrath were sitting at the table on which a plan was spread out.

"Ah!..." said Kutuzov glancing at Bolkonski as if by this exclamation he was asking the adjutant to wait, and he went on with the conversation in French.

"All I can say, General," said he with a pleasant elegance of expression and intonation that obliged one to listen to each deliberately spoken word. It was evident that Kutuzov himself listened with pleasure to his own voice. "All I can say, General, is that if the matter depended on my personal wishes, the will of His Majesty the Emperor Francis would have been fulfilled long ago. I should long ago have joined the archduke. And believe me on my honour that to me personally it would be a pleasure to hand over the supreme command of the army into the hands of a better informed and more skillful general- of whom Austria has so many- and to lay down all this heavy responsibility. But circumstances are sometimes too strong for us, General."

And Kutuzov smiled in a way that seemed to say, "You are quite at liberty not to believe me and I don't even care whether you do or not, but you have no grounds for telling me so. And that is the whole point."

The Austrian general looked dissatisfied, but had no option but to reply in the same tone.

"On the contrary," he said, in a querulous and angry tone that contrasted with his flattering words, " on the contrary, your excellency's participation in the common action is highly valued by His Majesty; but we think the present delay is depriving the splendid Russian troops and their commander of the laurels they have been accustomed to win in their battles," he concluded his evidently prearranged sentence.

Kutuzov bowed with the same smile.

"But that is my conviction, and judging by the last letter with which His Highness the Archduke Ferdinand has honored me, I imagine that the Austrian troops, under the direction of so skillful a leader as General Mack, have by now already gained a decisive victory and no longer need our aid," said Kutuzov.

The general frowned. Though there was no definite news of an Austrian defeat, there were many circumstances confirming the unfavorable rumors that were afloat, and so Kutuzov's suggestion of an Austrian victory sounded much like irony. But Kutuzov went on blandly smiling with the same expression, which seemed to say that he had a right to suppose so. And, in fact, the last letter he had received from Mack's army informed him of a victory and stated strategically the position of the army was very favorable.

"Give me that letter," said Kutuzov turning to Prince Andrew. "Please have a look at it"- and Kutuzov with an ironical smile about the corners of his mouth read to the Austrian general the following passage, in German, from the Archduke Ferdinand's letter:


We have fully concentrated forces of nearly seventy thousand men
with which to attack and defeat the enemy should he cross the Lech.
Also, as we are masters of Ulm, we cannot be deprived of the advantage
of commanding both sides of the Danube, so that should the enemy not
cross the Lech, we can cross the Danube, throw ourselves on his line
of communications, recross the river lower down, and frustrate his
intention should he try to direct his whole force against our faithful
ally. We shall therefore confidently await the moment when the
Imperial Russian army will be fully equipped, and shall then, in
conjunction with it, easily find a way to prepare for the enemy the
fate he deserves.

Kutuzov sighed deeply on finishing this paragraph and looked at the member of the Hofkriegsrath mildly and attentively.

"But you know the wise maxim your excellency, advising one to expect the worst," said the Austrian general, evidently wishing to have done with jests and to come to business. He involuntarily looked round at the aide-de-camp.

"Excuse me, General," interrupted Kutuzov, also turning to Prince Andrew. " Look here, my dear fellow, get from Kozlovski all the reports from our scouts. Here are two letters from Count Nostitz and here is one from His Highness the Archduke Ferdinand and here are these," he said, handing him several papers, "make a neat memorandum in French out of all this, showing all the news we have had of the movements of the Austrian army, and then give it to his excellency."

Prince Andrew bowed his head in token of having understood from the first not only what had been said but also what Kutuzov would have liked to tell him. He gathered up the papers and with a bow to both, stepped softly over the carpet and went out into the waiting room.

Though not much time had passed since Prince Andrew had left Russia, he had changed greatly during that period. In the expression of his face, in his movements, in his walk, scarcely a trace was left of his former affected languor and indolence. He now looked like a man who has time to think of the impression he makes on others, but is occupied with agreeable and interesting work. His face expressed more satisfaction with himself and those around him, his smile and glance were brighter and more attractive.

Kutuzov, whom he had overtaken in Poland, had received him very kindly, promised not to forget him, distinguished him above the other adjutants, and had taken him to Vienna and given him the more serious commissions. From Vienna Kutuzov wrote to his old comrade, Prince Andrew's father.

Your son bids fair to become an officer distinguished by his industry, firmness, and expedition. I consider myself fortunate to have such a subordinate by me.

On Kutuzov's staff, among his fellow officers and in the army generally, Prince Andrew had, as he had had in Petersburg society, two quite opposite reputations. Some, a minority, acknowledged him to be different from themselves and from everyone else, expected great things of him, listened to him, admired, and imitated him, and with them Prince Andrew was natural and pleasant. Others, the majority, disliked him and considered him conceited, cold, and disagreeable. But among these people Prince Andrew knew how to take his stand so that they respected and even feared him.

Coming out of Kutuzov's room into the waiting room with the papers in his hand Prince Andrew came up to his comrade, the aide-de-camp on duty, Kozlovski, who was sitting at the window with a book.

"Well, Prince?" asked Kozlovski.

"I am ordered to write a memorandum explaining why we are not advancing."

"And why is it?"

Prince Andrew shrugged his shoulders.

"Any news from Mack?"

"No."

"If it were true that he has been beaten, news would have come."

"Probably," said Prince Andrew moving toward the outer door.

But at that instant a tall Austrian general in a greatcoat, with the order of Maria Theresa on his neck and a black bandage round his head, who had evidently just arrived, entered quickly, slamming the door. Prince Andrew stopped short.

"Commander in Chief Kutuzov?" said the newly arrived general speaking quickly with a harsh German accent, looking to both sides and advancing straight toward the inner door.

"The commander in chief is engaged," said Kozlovski, going hurriedly up to the unknown general and blocking his way to the door. "Whom shall I announce?"

The unknown general looked disdainfully down at Kozlovski, who was rather short, as if surprised that anyone should not know him.

"The commander in chief is engaged," repeated Kozlovski calmly.

The general's face clouded, his lips quivered and trembled. He took out a notebook, hurriedly scribbled something in pencil, tore out the leaf, gave it to Kozlovski, stepped quickly to the window, and threw himself into a chair, gazing at those in the room as if asking, "Why do they look at me?" Then he lifted his head, stretched his neck as if he intended to say something, but immediately, with affected indifference, began to hum to himself, producing a queer sound which immediately broke off. The door of the private room opened and Kutuzov appeared in the doorway. The general with the bandaged head bent forward as though running away from some danger, and, making long, quick strides with his thin legs, went up to Kutuzov.

"Vous voyez le malheureux Mack," he uttered in a broken voice.

Kutuzov's face as he stood in the open doorway remained perfectly immobile for a few moments. Then wrinkles ran over his face like a wave and his forehead became smooth again, he bowed his head respectfully, closed his eyes, silently let Mack enter his room before him, and closed the door himself behind him.

The report which had been circulated that the Austrians had been beaten and that the whole army had surrendered at Ulm proved to be correct. Within half an hour adjutants had been sent in various directions with orders which showed that the Russian troops, who had hitherto been inactive, would also soon have to meet the enemy.

Prince Andrew was one of those rare staff officers whose chief interest lay in the general progress of the war. When he saw Mack and heard the details of his disaster he understood that half the campaign was lost, understood all the difficulties of the Russian army's position, and vividly imagined what awaited it and the part he would have to play. Involuntarily he felt a joyful agitation at the thought of the humiliation of arrogant Austria and that in a week's time he might, perhaps, see and take part in the first Russian encounter with the French since Suvorov met them. He feared that Bonaparte's genius might outweigh all the courage of the Russian troops, and at the same time could not admit the idea of his hero being disgraced.

Excited and irritated by these thoughts Prince Andrew went toward his room to write to his father, to whom he wrote every day. In the corridor he met Nesvitski, with whom he shared a room, and the wag Zherkov; they were as usual laughing.

"Why are you so glum?" asked Nesvitski noticing Prince Andrew's pale face and glittering eyes.

"There's nothing to be gay about," answered Bolkonski.

Just as Prince Andrew met Nesvitski and Zherkov, there came toward them from the other end of the corridor, Strauch, an Austrian general who on Kutuzov's staff in charge of the provisioning of the Russian army, and the member of the Hofkriegsrath who had arrived the previous evening. There was room enough in the wide corridor for the generals to pass the three officers quite easily, but Zherkov, pushing Nesvitski aside with his arm, said in a breathless voice,

"They're coming!... they're coming!... Stand aside, make way, please make way!"

The generals were passing by, looking as if they wished to avoid embarrassing attentions. On the face of the wag Zherkov there suddenly appeared a stupid smile of glee which he seemed unable to suppress.

"Your excellency," said he in German, stepping forward and addressing the Austrian general, "I have the honor to congratulate you."

He bowed his head and scraped first with one foot and then with the other, awkwardly, like a child at a dancing lesson.

The member of the Hofkriegsrath looked at him severely but, seeing the seriousness of his stupid smile, could not but give him a moment's attention. He screwed up his eyes showing that he was listening.

"I have the honor to congratulate you. General Mack has arrived, quite well, only a little bruised just here," he added, pointing with a beaming smile to his head.

The general frowned, turned away, and went on.

"Gott, wie naiv!"* said he angrily, after he had gone a few steps.

* "Good God, what simplicity!"

Nesvitski with a laugh threw his arms round Prince Andrew, but Bolkonski, turning still paler, pushed him away with an angry look and turned to Zherkov. The nervous irritation aroused by the appearance of Mack, the news of his defeat, and the thought of what lay before the Russian army found vent in anger at Zherkov's untimely jest.

"If you, sir, choose to make a buffoon of yourself," he said sharply, with a slight trembling of the lower jaw, "I can't prevent your doing so; but I warn you that if you dare to play the fool in my presence, I will teach you to behave yourself."

Nesvitski and Zherkov were so surprised by this outburst that they gazed at Bolkonski silently with wide-open eyes.

"What's the matter? I only congratulated them," said Zherkov.

"I am not jesting with you; please be silent!" cried Bolkonski, and taking Nesvitski's arm he left Zherkov, who did not know what to say.

"Come, what's the matter, old fellow?" said Nesvitski trying to soothe him.

"What's the matter?" exclaimed Prince Andrew standing still in his excitement. "Don't you understand that either we are officers serving our Tsar and our country, rejoicing in the successes and grieving at the misfortunes of our common cause, or we are merely lackeys who care nothing for their master's business. Quarante mille hommes massacres et l'armee de nos allies detruite, et vous trouvez la le mot pour rire,"* he said, as if strengthening his views by this French sentence. "C' est bien pour un garcon de rein comme cet individu dont vous avez fait un ami, mais pas pour vous, pas pour vous.*[2] Only a hobbledehoy could amuse himself in this way," he added in Russian- but pronouncing the word with a French accent- having noticed that Zherkov could still hear him.

* "Forty thousand men massacred and the army of our allies destroyed, and you find that a cause for jesting!"

*[2] "It is all very well for that good-for-nothing fellow of whom you have made a friend, but not for you, not for you."

He waited a moment to see whether the cornet would answer, but he turned and went out of the corridor.

CHAPTER IV

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The Pavlograd Hussars were stationed two miles from Braunau. The squadron in which Nicholas Rostov served as a cadet was quartered in the German village of Salzeneck. The best quarters in the village were assigned to cavalry-captain Denisov, the squadron commander, known throughout the whole cavalry division as Vaska Denisov. Cadet Rostov, ever since he had overtaken the regiment in Poland, had lived with the squadron commander.

On October 11, the day when all was astir at headquarters over the news of Mack's defeat, the camp life of the officers of this squadron was proceeding as usual. Denisov, who had been losing at cards all night, had not yet come home when Rostov rode back early in the morning from a foraging expedition. Rostov in his cadet uniform, with a jerk to his horse, rode up to the porch, swung his leg over the saddle with a supple youthful movement, stood for a moment in the stirrup as if loathe to part from his horse, and at last sprang down and called to his orderly.

"Ah, Bondarenko, dear friend!" said he to the hussar who rushed up headlong to the horse. "Walk him up and down, my dear fellow," he continued, with that gay brotherly cordiality which goodhearted young people show to everyone when they are happy.

"Yes, your excellency," answered the Ukrainian gaily, tossing his head.

"Mind, walk him up and down well!"

Another hussar also rushed toward the horse, but Bondarenko had already thrown the reins of the snaffle bridle over the horse's head. It was evident that the cadet was liberal with his tips and that it paid to serve him. Rostov patted the horse's neck and then his flank, and lingered for a moment.

"Splendid! What a horse he will be!" he thought with a smile, and holding up his saber, his spurs jingling, he ran up the steps of the porch. His landlord, who in a waistcoat and a pointed cap, pitchfork in hand, was clearing manure from the cowhouse, looked out, and his face immediately brightened on seeing Rostov. "Schon gut Morgen! Schon gut Morgen!"* he said winking with a merry smile, evidently pleased to greet the young man.

* "A very good morning! A very good morning!"

"Schon fleissig?"* said Rostov with the same gay brotherly smile which did not leave his eager face. "Hoch Oestreicher! Hoch Russen! Kaiser Alexander hoch!"*[2] said he, quoting words often repeated by the German landlord.

* "Busy already?"

*[2] "Hurrah for the Austrians! Hurrah for the Russians! Hurrah for Emperor Alexander!"

The German laughed, came out of the cowshed, pulled off his cap, and waving it above his head cried:

"Und die ganze Welt hoch!"*

* "And hurrah for the whole world!"

Rostov waved his cap above his head like the German and ctied laughing, "Und vivat die ganze Welt!" Though neither the German cleaning his cowshed nor Rostov back with his platoon from foraging for hay had any reason for rejoicing, they looked at each other with joyful delight and brotherly love, wagged their heads in token of their mutual affection, and parted smiling, the German returning to his cowshed and Rostov going to the cottage he occupied with Denisov.

"What about your master?" he asked Lavrushka, Denisov's orderly, whom all the regiment knew for a rogue.

"Hasn't been in since the evening. Must have been losing," answered Lavrushka. "I know by now, if he wins he comes back early to brag about it, but if he stays out till morning it means he's lost and will come back in a rage. Will you have coffee?"

"Yes, bring some."

Ten minutes later Lavrushka brought the coffee. "He's coming!" said he. "Now for trouble!" Rostov looked out of the window and saw Denisov coming home. Denisov was a small man with a red face, sparkling black eyes, and black tousled mustache and hair. He wore an unfastened cloak, wide breeches hanging down in creases, and a crumpled shako on the back of his head. He came up to the porch gloomily, hanging his head.

"Lavwuska!" he shouted loudly and angrily, "take it off, blockhead!"

"Well, I am taking it off," replied Lavrushka's voice.

"Ah, you're up already," said Denisov, entering the room.

"Long ago," answered Rostov, "I have already been for the hay, and have seen Fraulein Mathilde."

"Weally! And I've been losing, bwother. I lost yesterday like a damned fool!" cried Denisov, not pronouncing his r's. " Such ill luck! Such ill luck. As soon as you left, it began and went on. Hullo there! Tea!"

Puckering up his face though smiling, and showing his short strong teeth, he began with stubby fingers of both hands to ruffle up his thick tangled black hair.

"And what devil made me go to that wat?" (an officer nicknamed "the rat" he said, rubbing his forehead and whole face with both hands. "Just fancy, he didn't let me win a single cahd, not one cahd."

He took the lighted pipe that was offered to him, gripped it in his fist, and tapped it on the floor, making the sparks fly, while he continued to shout.

"He lets one win the singles and collahs it as soon as one doubles it; gives the singles and snatches the doubles!"

He scattered the burning tobacco, smashed the pipe, and threw it away. Then he remained silent for a while, and all at once looked cheerfully with his glittering, black eyes at Rostov.

"If at least we had some women here; but there's nothing foh one to do but dwink. If we could only get to fighting soon. Hullo, who's there?" he said, turning to the door as he heard a tread of heavy boots and the clinking of spurs that came to a stop, and a respectful cough.

"The squadron quartermaster!" said Lavrushka.

Denisov's face puckered still more.

"Wetched!" he muttered, throwing down a purse with some gold in it. "Wostov, deah fellow, just see how much there is left and shove the purse undah the pillow," he said, and went out to the quartermaster.

Rostov took the money and, mechanically arranging the old and new coins in separate piles, began counting them.

"Ah! Telyanin! How d'ye do? They plucked me last night," came Denisov's voice from the next room.

"Where? At Bykov's, at the rat's... I knew it," replied a piping voice, and Lieutenant Telyanin, a small officer of the same squadron, entered the room.

Rostov thrust the purse under the pillow and shook the damp little hand which was offered him. Telyanin for some reason had been transferred from the Guards just before this campaign. He behaved very well in the regiment but was not liked; Rostov especially detested him and was unable to overcome or conceal his groundless antipathy to the man.

"Well, young cavalryman, how is my Rook behaving?" he asked. (Rook was a young horse Telyanin had sold to Rostov.)

The lieutenant never looked the man he was speaking to straight in the face; his eyes continually wandered from one object to another.

"I saw you riding this morning..." he added.

"Oh, he's all right, a good horse," answered Rostov, though the horse for which he had paid seven hundred rubbles was not worth half that sum. "He's begun to go a little lame on the left foreleg," he added.

"The hoof's cracked! That's nothing. I'll teach you what to do and show you what kind of rivet to use."

"Yes, please do," said Rostov.

"I'll show you, I'll show you! It's not a secret. And it's a horse you'll thank me for."

"Then I'll have it brought round," said Rostov wishing to avoid Telyanin, and he went out to give the order.

In the passage Denisov, with a pipe, was squatting on the threshold facing the quartermaster who was reporting to him. On seeing Rostov, Denisov screwed up his face and pointing over his shoulder with his thumb to the room where Telyanin was sitting, he frowned and gave a shudder of disgust.

"Ugh! I don't like that fellow"' he said, regardless of the quartermaster's presence.

Rostov shrugged his shoulders as much as to say: "Nor do I, but what's one to do?" and, having given his order, he returned to Telyanin.

Telyanin was sitting in the same indolent pose in which Rostov had left him, rubbing his small white hands.

"Well there certainly are disgusting people," thought Rostov as he entered.

"Have you told them to bring the horse?" asked Telyanin, getting up and looking carelessly about him.

"I have."

"Let us go ourselves. I only came round to ask Denisov about yesterday's order. Have you got it, Denisov?"

"Not yet. But where are you off to?"

"I want to teach this young man how to shoe a horse," said Telyanin.

They went through the porch and into the stable. The lieutenant explained how to rivet the hoof and went away to his own quarters.

When Rostov went back there was a bottle of vodka and a sausage on the table. Denisov was sitting there scratching with his pen on a sheet of paper. He looked gloomily in Rostov's face and said: "I am witing to her."

He leaned his elbows on the table with his pen in his hand and, evidently glad of a chance to say quicker in words what he wanted to write, told Rostov the contents of his letter.

"You see, my fwiend," he said, "we sleep when we don't love. We are childwen of the dust... but one falls in love and one is a God, one is pua' as on the first day of cweation... Who's that now? Send him to the devil, I'm busy!" he shouted to Lavrushka, who went up to him not in the least abashed.

"Who should it be? You yourself told him to come. It's the quartermaster for the money."

Denisov frowned and was about to shout some reply but stopped.

"Wetched business," he muttered to himself. "How much is left in the puhse?" he asked, turning to Rostov.

"Seven new and three old imperials."

"Oh, it's wetched! Well, what are you standing there for, you sca'cwow? Call the quahtehmasteh," he shouted to Lavrushka.

"Please, Denisov, let me lend you some: I have some, you know," said Rostov, blushing.

"Don't like bowwowing from my own fellows, I don't," growled Denisov.

"But if you won't accept money from me like a comrade, you will offend me. Really I have some," Rostov repeated.

"No, I tell you."

And Denisov went to the bed to get the purse from under the pillow.

"Where have you put it, Wostov?"

"Under the lower pillow."

"It's not there."

Denisov threw both pillows on the floor. The purse was not there.

"That's a miwacle."

"Wait, haven't you dropped it?" said Rostov, picking up the pillows one at a time and shaking them.

He pulled off the quilt and shook it. The purse was not there.

"Dear me, can I have forgotten? No, I remember thinking that you kept it under your head like a treasure," said Rostov. "I put it just here. Where is it?" he asked, turning to Lavrushka.

"I haven't been in the room. It must be where you put it."

"But it isn't?..."

"You're always like that; you thwow a thing down anywhere and forget it. Feel in your pockets."

"No, if I hadn't thought of it being a treasure," said Rostov, "but I remember putting it there."

Lavrushka turned all the bedding over, looked under the bed and under the table, searched everywhere, and stood still in the middle of the room. Denisov silently watched Lavrushka's movements, and when the latter threw up his arms in surprise saying it was nowhere to be found Denisov glanced at Rostov.

"Wostov, you've not been playing schoolboy twicks..."

Rostov felt Denisov's gaze fixed on him, raised his eyes, and instantly dropped them again. All the blood which had seemed congested somewhere below his throat rushed to his face and eyes. He could not draw breath.

"And there hasn't been anyone in the room except the lieutenant and yourselves. It must be here somewhere," said Lavrushka.

"Now then, you devil's puppet, look alive and hunt for it!" shouted Denisov, suddenly, turning purple and rushing at the man with a threatening gesture. "If the purse isn't found I'll flog you, I'll flog you all."

Rostov, his eyes avoiding Denisov, began buttoning his coat, buckled on his saber, and put on his cap.

"I must have that purse, I tell you," shouted Denisov, shaking his orderly by the shoulders and knocking him against the wall.

"Denisov, let him alone, I know who has taken it," said Rostov, going toward the door without raising his eyes. Denisov paused, thought a moment, and, evidently understanding what Rostov hinted at, seized his arm.

"Nonsense!" he cried, and the veins on his forehead and neck stood out like cords. "You are mad, I tell you. I won't allow it. The purse is here! I'll flay this scoundwel alive, and it will be found."

"I know who has taken it," repeated Rostov in an unsteady voice, and went to the door.

"And I tell you, don't you dahe to do it!" shouted Denisov, rushing at the cadet to restrain him.

But Rostov pulled away his arm and, with as much anger as though Denisov were his worst enemy, firmly fixed his eyes directly on his face.

"Do you understand what you're saying?" he said in a trembling voice. "There was no one else in the room except myself. So that if it is not so, then..."

He could not finish, and ran out of the room.

"Ah, may the devil take you and evewybody," were the last words Rostov heard.

Rostov went to Telyanin's quarters.

"The master is not in, he's gone to headquarters," said Telyanin's orderly. " Has something happened?" he added, surprised at the cadet's troubled face.

"No, nothing."

"You've only just missed him," said the orderly.

The headquarters were situated two miles away from Salzeneck, and Rostov, without returning home, took a horse and rode there. There was an inn in the village which the officers frequented. Rostov rode up to it and saw Telyanin's horse at the porch.

In the second room of the inn the lieutenant was sitting over a dish of sausages and a bottle of wine.

"Ah, you've come here too, young man!" he said, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

"Yes," said Rostov as if it cost him a great deal to utter the word; and he sat down at the nearest table.

Both were silent. There were two Germans and a Russian officer in the room. No one spoke and the only sounds heard were the clatter of knives and the munching of the lieutenant.

When Telyanin had finished his lunch he took out of his pocket a double purse and, drawing its rings aside with his small, white, turned-up fingers, drew out a gold imperial, and lifting his eyebrows gave it to the waiter.

"Please be quick," he said.

The coin was a new one. Rostov rose and went up to Telyanin.

"Allow me to look at your purse," he said in a low, almost inaudible, voice.

With shifting eyes but eyebrows still raised, Telyanin handed him the purse.

"Yes, it's a nice purse. Yes, yes," he said, growing suddenly pale, and added, " Look at it, young man."

Rostov took the purse in his hand, examined it and the money in it, and looked at Telyanin. The lieutenant was looking about in his usual way and suddenly seemed to grow very merry.

"If we get to Vienna I'll get rid of it there but in these wretched little towns there's nowhere to spend it," said he. "Well, let me have it, young man, I'm going."

Rostov did not speak.

"And you? Are you going to have lunch too? They feed you quite decently here," continued Telyanin. "Now then, let me have it."

He stretched out his hand to take hold of the purse. Rostov let go of it. Telyanin took the purse and began carelessly slipping it into the pocket of his riding breeches, with his eyebrows lifted and his mouth slightly open, as if to say, "Yes, yes, I am putting my purse in my pocket and that's quite simple and is no else's business."

"Well, young man?" he said with a sigh, and from under his lifted brows he glanced into Rostov's eyes.

Some flash as of an electric spark shot from Telyanin's eyes to Rostov's and back, and back again and again in an instant.

"Come here," said Rostov, catching hold of Telyanin's arm and almost dragging him to the window. "That money is Denisov's; you took it..." he whispered just above Telyanin's ear.

"What? What? How dare you? What?" said Telyanin.

But these words came like a piteous, despairing cry and an entreaty for pardon. As soon as Rostov heard them, an enormous load of doubt fell from him. He was glad, and at the same instant began to pity the miserable man who stood before him, but the task he had begun had to be completed.

"Heaven only knows what the people here may imagine," muttered Telyanin, taking up his cap and moving toward a small empty room. "We must have an explanation..."

"I know it and shall prove it," said Rostov.

"I..."

Every muscle of Telyanin's pale, terrified face began to quiver, his eyes still shifted from side to side but with a downward look not rising to Rostov's face, and his sobs were audible.

"Count!... Don't ruin a young fellow... here is this wretched money, take it..." He threw it on the table. "I have an old father and mother!..."

Rostov took the money, avoiding Telyanin's eyes, and went out of the room without a word. But at the door he stopped and then retraced his steps. "O God," he said with tears in his eyes, " how could you do it?"

"Count..." said Telyanin drawing nearer to him.

"Don't touch me," said Rostov, drawing back. "If you need it, take the money," and he threw the purse to him and ran out of the inn.

CHAPTER V

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That same evening there was an animated discussion among the s

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undi3s [2004-02-12 15:54:10 +0000 UTC]

WAR AND PEACE
by Leo Tolstoy

BOOK 1: 1805

CHAPTER I

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"Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes. 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 by that Antichrist- I really believe he is Antichrist- I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my 'faithful slave,' as you call yourself! But how do you do? I see I have frightened you- sit down and tell me all the news."

It was in July, 1805, and the speaker was the well-known Anna Pavlovna Scherer, maid of honor and favorite of the Empress Marya Fedorovna. With these words she greeted Prince Vasili Kuragin, a man of high rank and importance, who was the first to arrive at her reception. Anna Pavlovna had had a cough for some days. She was, as she said, suffering from la grippe; grippe being then a new word in St. Petersburg, used only by the elite.

All her invitations without exception, written in French, and delivered by a scarlet-liveried footman that morning, ran as follows:

"If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince], and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see you tonight between 7 and 10- Annette Scherer."

"Heavens! what a virulent attack!" replied the prince, not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation natural to a man of importance who had grown old in society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.

"First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your friend's mind at rest," said he without altering his tone, beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which indifference and even irony could be discerned.

"Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be calm in times like these if one has any feeling?" said Anna Pavlovna. "You are staying the whole evening, I hope?"

"And the fete at the English ambassador's? Today is Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there," said the prince. "My daughter is coming for me to take me there."

"I thought today's fete had been canceled. I confess all these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome."

"If they had known that you wished it, the entertainment would have been put off," said the prince, who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things he did not even wish to be believed.

"Don't tease! Well, and what has been decided about Novosiltsev's dispatch? You know everything."

"What can one say about it?" replied the prince in a cold, listless tone. "What has been decided? They have decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe that we are ready to burn ours."

Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating a stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with animation and impulsiveness. To be an enthusiast had become her social vocation and, sometimes even when she did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her. The subdued smile which, though it did not suit her faded features, always played round her lips expressed, as in a spoiled child, a continual consciousness of her charming defect, which she neither wished, nor could, nor considered it necessary, to correct.

In the midst of a conversation on political matters Anna Pavlovna burst out:

"Oh, don't speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don't understand things, but Austria never has wished, and does not wish, for war. She is betraying us! Russia alone must save Europe. Our gracious sovereign recognizes his high vocation and will be true to it. That is the one thing I have faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous and noble that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his vocation and crush the hydra of revolution, which has become more terrible than ever in the person of this murderer and villain! We alone must avenge the blood of the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely on?... England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot understand the Emperor Alexander's loftiness of soul. She has refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and still seeks, some secret motive in our actions. What answer did Novosiltsev get? None. The English have not understood and cannot understand the self-abnegation of our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only desires the good of mankind. And what have they promised? Nothing! And what little they have promised they will not perform! Prussia has always declared that Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe is powerless before him.... And I don't believe a word that Hardenburg says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality is just a trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny of our adored monarch. He will save Europe!"

She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity.

"I think," said the prince with a smile, " that if you had been sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would have captured the King of Prussia's consent by assault. You are so eloquent. Will you give me a cup of tea?"

"In a moment. A propos," she added, becoming calm again, "I am expecting two very interesting men tonight, le Vicomte de Mortemart, who is connected with the Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of the best French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the good ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that profound thinker? He has been received by the Emperor. Had you heard?"

"I shall be delighted to meet them," said the prince. "But tell me," he added with studied carelessness as if it had only just occurred to him, though the question he was about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, "is it true that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all accounts is a poor creature."

Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.

Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what the Empress desired or was pleased with.

"Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager Empress by her sister," was all she said, in a dry and mournful tone.

As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna's face suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to show Baron Funke beaucoup d'estime, and again her face clouded over with sadness.

The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she said:

"Now about your family. Do you know that since your daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her? They say she is amazingly beautiful."

The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.

"I often think," she continued after a short pause, drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him as if to show that political and social topics were ended and the time had come for intimate conversation- "I often think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid children? I don't speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don't like him," she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder and raising her eyebrows. "Two such charming children. And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so you don't deserve to have them."

And she smiled her ecstatic smile.

"I can't help it," said the prince. " Lavater would have said I lack the bump of paternity."

"Don't joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son? Between ourselves" (and her face assumed its melancholy expression), "he was mentioned at Her Majesty's and you were pitied...."

The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.

"What would you have me do?" he said at last. "You know I did all a father could for their education, and they have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only difference between them." He said this smiling in a way more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles round his mouth very clearly revealed something unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.

"And why are children born to such men as you? If you were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach you with," said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.

"I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can't be helped!"

He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.

"Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatole?" she asked. "They say old maids have a mania for matchmaking, and though I don't feel that weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours, Princess Mary Bolkonskaya."

Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness of memory and perception befitting a man of the world, he indicated by a movement of the head that he was considering this information.

"Do you know," he said at last, evidently unable to check the sad current of his thoughts, "that Anatole is costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And," he went on after a pause, "what will it be in five years, if he goes on like this?" Presently he added: "That's what we fathers have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?"

"Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was nicknamed 'the King of Prussia.' He is very clever but eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov's and will be here tonight."

"Listen, dear Annette," said the prince, suddenly taking Anna Pavlovna's hand and for some reason drawing it downwards. "Arrange that affair for me and I shall always be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good family and that's all I want."

And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to him, he raised the maid of honor's hand to his lips, kissed it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair, looking in another direction.

"Attendez," said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, "I'll speak to Lise, young Bolkonski's wife, this very evening, and perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your family's behalf that I'll start my apprenticeship as old maid."

CHAPTER II

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Anna Pavlovna's drawing room was gradually filling. The highest Petersburg society was assembled there: people differing widely in age and character but alike in the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili's daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to the ambassador's entertainment; she wore a ball dress and her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions. Prince Vasili's son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart, whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others had also come.

* The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.

To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, " You have not yet seen my aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady, wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one's name and then left them.

Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious duty and did not return to her the whole evening.

The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth, thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that day.

The little princess went round the table with quick, short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her. "I have brought my work," said she in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present. " Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked trick on me," she added, turning to her hostess. "You wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see how badly I am dressed." And she spread out her arms to show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress, girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.

"Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier than anyone else," replied Anna Pavlovna.

"You know," said the princess in the same tone of voice and still in French, turning to a general, "my husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?" she added, addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful Helene.

"What a delightful woman this little princess is!" said Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.

One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the light-colored breeches fashionable at that time, a very high ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known grandee of Catherine's time who now lay dying in Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the military or civil service, as he had only just returned from abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her drawing room. But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting, a look of anxiety and fear, as at the sight of something too large and unsuited to the place, came over her face when she saw Pierre enter. Though he was certainly rather bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety could only have reference to the clever though shy, but observant and natural, expression which distinguished him from everyone else in that drawing room.

"It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and visit a poor invalid," said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an alarmed glance with her aunt as she conducted him to her.

Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and continued to look round as if in search of something. On his way to the aunt he bowed to the little princess with a pleased smile, as to an intimate acquaintance.

Anna Pavlovna's alarm was justified, for Pierre turned away from the aunt without waiting to hear her speech about Her Majesty's health. Anna Pavlovna in dismay detained him with the words: "Do you know the Abbe Morio? He is a most interesting man."

"Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace, and it is very interesting but hardly feasible."

"You think so?" rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say something and get away to attend to her duties as hostess. But Pierre now committed a reverse act of impoliteness. First he had left a lady before she had finished speaking to him, and now he continued to speak to another who wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big feet spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking the abbe's plan chimerical.

"We will talk of it later," said Anna Pavlovna with a smile.

And having got rid of this young man who did not know how to behave, she resumed her duties as hostess and continued to listen and watch, ready to help at any point where the conversation might happen to flag. As the foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands to work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has stopped or there one that creaks or makes more noise than it should, and hastens to check the machine or set it in proper motion, so Anna Pavlovna moved about her drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a too-noisy group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular motion. But amid these cares her anxiety about Pierre was evident. She kept an anxious watch on him when he approached the group round Mortemart to listen to what was being said there, and again when he passed to another group whose center was the abbe.

Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at Anna Pavlovna's was the first he had attended in Russia. He knew that all the intellectual lights of Petersburg were gathered there and, like a child in a toyshop, did not know which way to look, afraid of missing any clever conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the self-confident and refined expression on the faces of those present he was always expecting to hear something very profound. At last he came up to Morio. Here the conversation seemed interesting and he stood waiting for an opportunity to express his own views, as young people are fond of doing.

CHAPTER III

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Anna Pavlovna's reception was in full swing. The spindles hummed steadily and ceaselessly on all sides. With the exception of the aunt, beside whom sat only one elderly lady, who with her thin careworn face was rather out of place in this brilliant society, the whole company had settled into three groups. One, chiefly masculine, had formed round the abbe. Another, of young people, was grouped round the beautiful Princess Helene, Prince Vasili's daughter, and the little Princess Bolkonskaya, very pretty and rosy, though rather too plump for her age. The third group was gathered round Mortemart and Anna Pavlovna.

The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft features and polished manners, who evidently considered himself a celebrity but out of politeness modestly placed himself at the disposal of the circle in which he found himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him up as a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d'hotel serves up as a specially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one who had seen it in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so Anna Pavlovna served up to her guests, first the vicomte and then the abbe, as peculiarly choice morsels. The group about Mortemart immediately began discussing the murder of the Duc d'Enghien. The vicomte said that the Duc d'Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity, and that there were particular reasons for Buonaparte's hatred of him.

"Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte," said Anna Pavlovna, with a pleasant feeling that there was something a la Louis XV in the sound of that sentence: "Contez nous cela, Vicomte."

The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of his willingness to comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a group round him, inviting everyone to listen to his tale.

"The vicomte knew the duc personally," whispered Anna Pavlovna to of the guests. "The vicomte is a wonderful raconteur," said she to another. "How evidently he belongs to the best society," said she to a third; and the vicomte was served up to the company in the choicest and most advantageous style, like a well-garnished joint of roast beef on a hot dish.

The vicomte wished to begin his story and gave a subtle smile.

"Come over here, Helene, dear," said Anna Pavlovna to the beautiful young princess who was sitting some way off, the center of another group.

The princess smiled. She rose with the same unchanging smile with which she had first entered the room- the smile of a perfectly beautiful woman. With a slight rustle of her white dress trimmed with moss and ivy, with a gleam of white shoulders, glossy hair, and sparkling diamonds, she passed between the men who made way for her, not looking at any of them but smiling on all, as if graciously allowing each the privilege of admiring her beautiful figure and shapely shoulders, back, and bosom- which in the fashion of those days were very much exposed- and she seemed to bring the glamour of a ballroom with her as she moved toward Anna Pavlovna. Helene was so lovely that not only did she not show any trace of coquetry, but on the contrary she even appeared shy of her unquestionable and all too victorious beauty. She seemed to wish, but to be unable, to diminish its effect.

"How lovely!" said everyone who saw her; and the vicomte lifted his shoulders and dropped his eyes as if startled by something extraordinary when she took her seat opposite and beamed upon him also with her unchanging smile.

"Madame, I doubt my ability before such an audience," said he, smilingly inclining his head.

The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table and considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited. All the time the story was being told she sat upright, glancing now at her beautiful round arm, altered in shape by its pressure on the table, now at her still more beautiful bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond necklace. From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress, and whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at Anna Pavlovna, at once adopted just the expression she saw on the maid of honor's face, and again relapsed into her radiant smile.

The little princess had also left the tea table and followed Helene.

"Wait a moment, I'll get my work.... Now then, what are you thinking of?" she went on, turning to Prince Hippolyte. " Fetch me my workbag."

There was a general movement as the princess, smiling and talking merrily to everyone at once, sat down and gaily arranged herself in her seat.

"Now I am all right," she said, and asking the vicomte to begin, she took up her work.

Prince Hippolyte, having brought the workbag, joined the circle and moving a chair close to hers seated himself beside her.

Le charmant Hippolyte was surprising by his extraordinary resemblance to his beautiful sister, but yet more by the fact that in spite of this resemblance he was exceedingly ugly. His features were like his sister's, but while in her case everything was lit up by a joyous, self-satisfied, youthful, and constant smile of animation, and by the wonderful classic beauty of her figure, his face on the contrary was dulled by imbecility and a constant expression of sullen self-confidence, while his body was thin and weak. His eyes, nose, and mouth all seemed puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, and his arms and legs always fell into unnatural positions.

"It's not going to be a ghost story?" said he, sitting down beside the princess and hastily adjusting his lorgnette, as if without this instrument he could not begin to speak.

"Why no, my dear fellow," said the astonished narrator, shrugging his shoulders.

"Because I hate ghost stories," said Prince Hippolyte in a tone which showed that he only understood the meaning of his words after he had uttered them.

He spoke with such self-confidence that his hearers could not be sure whether what he said was very witty or very stupid. He was dressed in a dark-green dress coat, knee breeches of the color of cuisse de nymphe effrayee, as he called it, shoes, and silk stockings.

The vicomte told his tale very neatly. It was an anecdote, then current, to the effect that the Duc d'Enghien had gone secretly to Paris to visit Mademoiselle George; that at her house he came upon Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the famous actress' favors, and that in his presence Napoleon happened to fall into one of the fainting fits to which he was subject, and was thus at the duc's mercy. The latter spared him, and this magnanimity Bonaparte subsequently repaid by death.

The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at the point where the rivals suddenly recognized one another; and the ladies looked agitated.

"Charming!" said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring glance at the little princess.

"Charming!" whispered the little princess, sticking the needle into her work as if to testify that the interest and fascination of the story prevented her from going on with it.

The vicomte appreciated this silent praise and smiling gratefully prepared to continue, but just then Anna Pavlovna, who had kept a watchful eye on the young man who so alarmed her, noticed that he was talking too loudly and vehemently with the abbe, so she hurried to the rescue. Pierre had managed to start a conversation with the abbe about the balance of power, and the latter, evidently interested by the young man's simple-minded eagerness, was explaining his pet theory. Both were talking and listening too eagerly and too naturally, which was why Anna Pavlovna disapproved.

"The means are... the balance of power in Europe and the rights of the people," the abbe was saying. "It is only necessary for one powerful nation like Russia- barbaric as she is said to be- to place herself disinterestedly at the head of an alliance having for its object the maintenance of the balance of power of Europe, and it would save the world!"

"But how are you to get that balance?" Pierre was beginning.

At that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, looking severely at Pierre, asked the Italian how he stood Russian climate. The Italian's face instantly changed and assumed an offensively affected, sugary expression, evidently habitual to him when conversing with women.

"I am so enchanted by the brilliancy of the wit and culture of the society, more especially of the feminine society, in which I have had the honor of being received, that I have not yet had time to think of the climate," said he.

Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna, the more conveniently to keep them under observation, brought them into the larger circle.

CHAPTER IV

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Just them another visitor entered the drawing room: Prince Andrew Bolkonski, the little princess' husband. He was a very handsome young man, of medium height, with firm, clearcut features. Everything about him, from his weary, bored expression to his quiet, measured step, offered a most striking contrast to his quiet, little wife. It was evident that he not only knew everyone in the drawing room, but had found them to be so tiresome that it wearied him to look at or listen to them. And among all these faces that he found so tedious, none seemed to bore him so much as that of his pretty wife. He turned away from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome face, kissed Anna Pavlovna's hand, and screwing up his eyes scanned the whole company.

"You are off to the war, Prince?" said Anna Pavlovna.

"General Kutuzov," said Bolkonski, speaking French and stressing the last syllable of the general's name like a Frenchman, "has been pleased to take me as an aide-de-camp...."

"And Lise, your wife?"

"She will go to the country."

"Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming wife?"

"Andre," said his wife, addressing her husband in the same coquettish manner in which she spoke to other men, "the vicomte has been telling us such a tale about Mademoiselle George and Buonaparte!"

Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away. Pierre, who from the moment Prince Andrew entered the room had watched him with glad, affectionate eyes, now came up and took his arm. Before he looked round Prince Andrew frowned again, expressing his annoyance with whoever was touching his arm, but when he saw Pierre's beaming face he gave him an unexpectedly kind and pleasant smile.

"There now!... So you, too, are in the great world?" said he to Pierre.

"I knew you would be here," replied Pierre. "I will come to supper with you. May I?" he added in a low voice so as not to disturb the vicomte who was continuing his story.

"No, impossible!" said Prince Andrew, laughing and pressing Pierre's hand to show that there was no need to ask the question. He wished to say something more, but at that moment Prince Vasili and his daughter got up to go and the two young men rose to let them pass.

"You must excuse me, dear Vicomte," said Prince Vasili to the Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve in a friendly way to prevent his rising. "This unfortunate fete at the ambassador's deprives me of a pleasure, and obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to leave your enchanting party," said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna.

His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the chairs, lightly holding up the folds of her dress, and the smile shone still more radiantly on her beautiful face. Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, almost frightened, eyes as she passed him.

"Very lovely," said Prince Andrew.

"Very," said Pierre.

In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre's hand and said to Anna Pavlovna: "Educate this bear for me! He has been staying with me a whole month and this is the first time I have seen him in society. Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the society of clever women."

Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in hand. She knew his father to be a connection of Prince Vasili's. The elderly lady who had been sitting with the old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook Prince Vasili in the anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had assumed had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now expressed only anxiety and fear.

"How about my son Boris, Prince?" said she, hurrying after him into the anteroom. "I can't remain any longer in Petersburg. Tell me what news I may take back to my poor boy."

Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not very politely to the elderly lady, even betraying some impatience, she gave him an ingratiating and appealing smile, and took his hand that he might not go away.

"What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor, and then he would be transferred to the Guards at once?" said she.

"Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can," answered Prince Vasili, "but it is difficult for me to ask the Emperor. I should advise you to appeal to Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. That would be the best way."

The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya, belonging to one of the best families in Russia, but she was poor, and having long been out of society had lost her former influential connections. She had now come to Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for her only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili that she had obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna's reception and had sat listening to the vicomte's story. Prince Vasili's words frightened her, an embittered look clouded her once handsome face, but only for a moment; then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili's arm more tightly.

"Listen to me, Prince," said she. "I have never yet asked you for anything and I never will again, nor have I ever reminded you of my father's friendship for you; but now I entreat you for God's sake to do this for my son- and I shall always regard you as a benefactor," she added hurriedly. "No, don't be angry, but promise! I have asked Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you always were," she said, trying to smile though tears were in her eyes.

"Papa, we shall be late," said Princess Helene, turning her beautiful head and looking over her classically molded shoulder as she stood waiting by the door.

Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to be economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and having once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who begged of him, he would soon be unable to ask for himself, he became chary of using his influence. But in Princess Drubetskaya's case he felt, after her second appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had reminded him of what was quite true; he had been indebted to her father for the first steps in his career. Moreover, he could see by her manners that she was one of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their end, and are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day after day and hour after hour, and even to make scenes. This last consideration moved him.

"My dear Anna Mikhaylovna," said he with his usual familiarity and weariness of tone, "it is almost impossible for me to do what you ask; but to prove my devotion to you and how I respect your father's memory, I will do the impossible- your son shall be transferred to the Guards. Here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?"

"My dear benefactor! This is what I expected from you- I knew your kindness!" He turned to go.

"Wait- just a word! When he has been transferred to the Guards..." she faltered. "You are on good terms with Michael Ilarionovich Kutuzov... recommend Boris to him as adjutant! Then I shall be at rest, and then..."

Prince Vasili smiled.

"No, I won't promise that. You don't know how Kutuzov is pestered since his appointment as Commander in Chief. He told me himself that all the Moscow ladies have conspired to give him all their sons as adjutants."

"No, but do promise! I won't let you go! My dear benefactor..."

"Papa," said his beautiful daughter in the same tone as before, "we shall be late."

"Well, au revoir! Good-by! You hear her?"

"Then tomorrow you will speak to the Emperor?"

"Certainly; but about Kutuzov, I don't promise."

"Do promise, do promise, Vasili!" cried Anna Mikhaylovna as he went, with the smile of a coquettish girl, which at one time probably came naturally to her, but was now very ill-suited to her careworn face.

Apparently she had forgotten her age and by force of habit employed all the old feminine arts. But as soon as the prince had gone her face resumed its former cold, artificial expression. She returned to the group where the vicomte was still talking, and again pretended to listen, while waiting till it would be time to leave. Her task was accomplished.

CHAPTER V

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"And what do you think of this latest comedy, the coronation at Milan?" asked Anna Pavlovna, "and of the comedy of the people of Genoa and Lucca laying their petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one's head whirl! It is as if the whole world had gone crazy."

Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the face with a sarcastic smile.

"'Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!'* They say he was very fine when he said that," he remarked, repeating the words in Italian: "'Dio mi l'ha dato. Guai a chi la tocchi!'"

* God has given it to me, let him who touches it beware!

"I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the glass run over," Anna Pavlovna continued. "The sovereigns will not be able to endure this man who is a menace to everything."

"The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia," said the vicomte, polite but hopeless: "The sovereigns, madame... What have they done for Louis XVII, for the Queen, or for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!" and he became more animated. " And believe me, they are reaping the reward of their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! Why, they are sending ambassadors to compliment the usurper."

And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his position.

Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte for some time through his lorgnette, suddenly turned completely round toward the little princess, and having asked for a needle began tracing the Conde coat of arms on the table. He explained this to her with as much gravity as if she had asked him to do it.

"Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d' azur- maison Conde," said he.

The princess listened, smiling.

"If Buonaparte remains on the throne of France a year longer," the vicomte continued, with the air of a man who, in a matter with which he is better acquainted than anyone else, does not listen to others but follows the current of his own thoughts, "things will have gone too far. By intrigues, violence, exile, and executions, French society- I mean good French society- will have been forever destroyed, and then..."

He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands. Pierre wished to make a remark, for the conversation interested him, but Anna Pavlovna, who had him under observation, interrupted:

"The Emperor Alexander," said she, with the melancholy which always accompanied any reference of hers to the Imperial family, "has declared that he will leave it to the French people themselves to choose their own form of government; and I believe that once free from the usurper, the whole nation will certainly throw itself into the arms of its rightful king," she concluded, trying to be amiable to the royalist emigrant.

"That is doubtful," said Prince Andrew. " Monsieur le Vicomte quite rightly supposes that matters have already gone too far. I think it will be difficult to return to the old regime."

"From what I have heard," said Pierre, blushing and breaking into the conversation, "almost all the aristocracy has already gone over to Bonaparte's side."

"It is the Buonapartists who say that," replied the vicomte without looking at Pierre. "At the present time it is difficult to know the real state of French public opinion.

"Bonaparte has said so," remarked Prince Andrew with a sarcastic smile.

It was evident that he did not like the vicomte and was aiming his remarks at him, though without looking at him.

"'I showed them the path to glory, but they did not follow it,'" Prince Andrew continued after a short silence, again quoting Napoleon's words. "'I opened my antechambers and they crowded in.' I do not know how far he was justified in saying so."

"Not in the least," replied the vicomte. " After the murder of the duc even the most partial ceased to regard him as a hero. If to some people," he went on, turning to Anna Pavlovna, "he ever was a hero, after the murder of the duc there was one martyr more in heaven and one hero less on earth."

Before Anna Pavlovna and the others had time to smile their appreciation of the vicomte's epigram, Pierre again broke into the conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna felt sure he would say something inappropriate, she was unable to stop him.

"The execution of the Duc d'Enghien," declared Monsieur Pierre, "was a political necessity, and it seems to me that Napoleon showed greatness of soul by not fearing to take on himself the whole responsibility of that deed."

"Dieu! Mon Dieu!" muttered Anna Pavlovna in a terrified whisper.

"What, Monsieur Pierre... Do you consider that assassination shows greatness of soul?" said the little princess, smiling and drawing her work nearer to her.

"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed several voices.

"Capital!" said Prince Hippolyte in English, and began slapping his knee with the palm of his hand.

The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre looked solemnly at his audience over his spectacles and continued.

"I say so," he continued desperately, " because the Bourbons fled from the Revolution leaving the people to anarchy, and Napoleon alone understood the Revolution and quelled it, and so for the general good, he could not stop short for the sake of one man's life."

"Won't you come over to the other table?" suggested Anna Pavlovna.

But Pierre continued his speech without heeding her.

"No," cried he, becoming more and more eager, "Napoleon is great because he rose superior to the Revolution, suppressed its abuses, preserved all that was good in it- equality of citizenship and freedom of speech and of the press- and only for that reason did he obtain power."

"Yes, if having obtained power, without availing himself of it to commit murder he had restored it to the rightful king, I should have called him a great man," remarked the vicomte.

"He could not do that. The people only gave him power that he might rid them of the Bourbons and because they saw that he was a great man. The Revolution was a grand thing!" continued Monsieur Pierre, betraying by this desperate and provocative proposition his extreme youth and his wish to express all that was in his mind.

"What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well, after that... But won't you come to this other table?" repeated Anna Pavlovna.

"Rousseau's Contrat social," said the vicomte with a tolerant smile.

"I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about ideas."

"Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide," again interjected an ironical voice.

"Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what is most important. What is important are the rights of man, emancipation from prejudices, and equality of citizenship, and all these ideas Napoleon has retained in full force."

"Liberty and equality," said the vicomte contemptuously, as if at last deciding seriously to prove to this youth how foolish his words were, "high-sounding words which have long been discredited. Who does not love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution become happier? On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but Buonaparte has destroyed it."

Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile from Pierre to the vicomte and from the vicomte to their hostess. In the first moment of Pierre's outburst Anna Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was horror-struck. But when she saw that Pierre's sacrilegious words had not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced herself that it was impossible to stop him, she rallied her forces and joined the vicomte in a vigorous attack on the orator.

"But, my dear Monsieur Pierre," said she, " how do you explain the fact of a great man executing a duc- or even an ordinary man who- is innocent and untried?"

"I should like," said the vicomte, "to ask how monsieur explains the 18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It was a swindle, and not at all like the conduct of a great man!"

"And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was horrible!" said the little princess, shrugging her shoulders.

"He's a low fellow, say what you will," remarked Prince Hippolyte.

Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them all and smiled. His smile was unlike the half-smile of other people. When he smiled, his grave, even rather gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by another- a childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed to ask forgiveness.

The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time saw clearly that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as his words suggested. All were silent.

"How do you expect him to answer you all at once?" said Prince Andrew. "Besides, in the actions of a statesman one has to distinguish between his acts as a private person, as a general, and as an emperor. So it seems to me."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Pierre chimed in, pleased at the arrival of this reinforcement.

"One must admit," continued Prince Andrew, "that Napoleon as a man was great on the bridge of Arcola, and in the hospital at Jaffa where he gave his hand to the plague-stricken; but... but there are other acts which it is difficult to justify."

Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone down the awkwardness of Pierre's remarks, rose and made a sign to his wife that it was time to go.

Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to everyone to attend, and asking them all to be seated began:

"I was told a charming Moscow story today and must treat you to it. Excuse me, Vicomte- I must tell it in Russian or the point will be lost...." And Prince Hippolyte began to tell his story in such Russian as a Frenchman would speak after spending about a year in Russia. Everyone waited, so emphatically and eagerly did he demand their attention to his story.

"There is in Moscow a lady, une dame, and she is very stingy. She must have two footmen behind her carriage, and very big ones. That was her taste. And she had a lady's maid, also big. She said..."

Here Prince Hippolyte paused, evidently collecting his ideas with difficulty.

"She said... Oh yes! She said, 'Girl,' to the maid, 'put on a livery, get up behind the carriage, and come with me while I make some calls.'"

Here Prince Hippolyte spluttered and burst out laughing long before his audience, which produced an effect unfavorable to the narrator. Several persons, among them the elderly lady and Anna Pavlovna, did however smile.

"She went. Suddenly there was a great wind. The girl lost her hat and her long hair came down...." Here he could contain himself no longer and went on, between gasps of laughter: "And the whole world knew...."

And so the anecdote ended. Though it was unintelligible why he had told it, or why it had to be told in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna and the others appreciated Prince Hippolyte's social tact in so agreeably ending Pierre's unpleasant and unamiable outburst. After the anecdote the conversation broke up into insignificant small talk about the last and next balls, about theatricals, and who would meet whom, and when and where.


CHAPTER VI

---------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------


Having thanked Anna Pavlovna for her charming soiree, the guests began to take their leave.

Pierre was ungainly. Stout, about the average height, broad, with huge red hands; he did not know, as the saying is, to enter a drawing room and still less how to leave one; that is, how to say something particularly agreeable before going away. Besides this he was absent-minded. When he rose to go, he took up instead of his own, the general's three-cornered hat, and held it, pulling at the plume, till the general asked him to restore it. All his absent-mindedness and inability to enter a room and converse in it was, however, redeemed by his kindly, simple, and modest expression. Anna Pavlovna turned toward him and, with a Christian mildness that expressed forgiveness of his indiscretion, nodded and said: "I hope to see you again, but I also hope you will change your opinions, my dear Monsieur Pierre."

When she said this, he did not reply and only bowed, but again everybody saw his smile, which said nothing, unless perhaps, "Opinions are opinions, but you see what a capital, good-natured fellow I am." And everyone, including Anna Pavlovna, felt this.

Prince Andrew had gone out into the hall, and, turning his shoulders to the footman who was helping him on with his cloak, listened indifferently to his wife's chatter with Prince Hippolyte who had also come into the hall. Prince Hippolyte stood close to the pretty, pregnant princess, and stared fixedly at her through his eyeglass.

"Go in, Annette, or you will catch cold," said the little princess, taking leave of Anna Pavlovna. "It is settled," she added in a low voice.

Anna Pavlovna had already managed to speak to Lise about the match she contemplated between Anatole and the little princess' sister-in-law.

"I rely on you, my dear," said Anna Pavlovna, also in a low tone. "Write to her and let me know how her father looks at the matter. Au revoir!"- and she left the hall.

Prince Hippolyte approached the little princess and, bending his face close to her, began to whisper something.

Two footmen, the princess' and his own, stood holding a shawl and a cloak, waiting for the conversation to finish. They listened to the French sentences which to them were meaningless, with an air of understanding but not wishing to appear to do so. The princess as usual spoke smilingly and listened with a laugh.

"I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador's," said Prince Hippolyte "-so dull-. It has been a delightful evening, has it not? Delightful!"

"They say the ball will be very good," replied the princess, drawing up her downy little lip. "All the pretty women in society will be there."

"Not all, for you will not be there; not all," said Prince Hippolyte smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from the footman, whom he even pushed aside, he began wrapping it round the princess. Either from awkwardness or intentionally (no one could have said which) after the shawl had been adjusted he kept his arm around her for a long time, as though embracing her.

Still smiling, she gracefully moved away, turning and glancing at her husband. Prince Andrew's eyes were closed, so weary and sleepy did he seem.

"Are you ready?" he asked his wife, looking past her.

Prince Hippolyte hurriedly put on his cloak, which in the latest fashion reached to his very heels, and, stumbling in it, ran out into the porch following the princess, whom a footman was helping into the carriage.

"Princesse, au revoir," cried he, stumbling with his tongue as well as with his feet.

The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat in the dark carriage, her husband was adjusting his saber; Prince Hippolyte, under pretense of helping, was in everyone's way.

"Allow me, sir," said Prince Andrew in Russian in a cold, disagreeable tone to Prince Hippolyte who was blocking his path.

"I am expecting you, Pierre," said the same voice, but gently and affectionately.

The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled. Prince Hippolyte laughed spasmodically as he stood in the porch waiting for the vicomte whom he had promised to take home.

"Well, mon cher," said the vicomte, having seated himself beside Hippolyte in the carriage, "your little princess is very nice, very nice indeed, quite French," and he kissed the tips of his fingers. Hippolyte burst out laughing.

"Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your innocent airs," continued the vicomte. "I pity the poor husband, that little officer who gives himself the airs of a monarch."

Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said, "And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French? One has to know how to deal with them."

Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew's study like one quite at home, and from habit immediately lay down on the sofa, took from the shelf the first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar's Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it in the middle.

"What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be quite ill now," said Prince Andrew, as he entered the study, rubbing his small white hands.

Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak. He lifted his eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and waved his hand.

"That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the thing in the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is possible but- I do not know how to express it... not by a balance of political power...."

It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in such abstract conversation.

"One can't everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher. Well, have you at last decided on anything? Are you going to be a guardsman or a diplomatist?" asked Prince Andrew after a momentary silence.

Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under him.

"Really, I don't yet know. I don't like either the one or the other."

"But you must decide on something! Your father expects it."

Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an abbe as tutor, and had remained away till he was twenty. When he returned to Moscow his father dismissed the abbe and said to the young man, "Now go to Petersburg, look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is money. Write to me all about it, and I will help you in everything." Pierre had already been choosing a career for three months, and had not decided on anything. It was about this choice that Prince Andrew was speaking. Pierre rubbed his forehead.

"But he must be a Freemason," said he, referring to the abbe whom he had met that evening.

"That is all nonsense." Prince Andrew again interrupted him, "let us talk business. Have you been to the Horse Guards?"

"No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking and wanted to tell you. There is a war now against Napoleon. If it were a war for freedom I could understand it and should be the first to enter the army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in the world is not right."

Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre's childish words. He put on the air of one who finds it impossible to reply to such nonsense, but it would in fact have been difficult to give any other answer than the one Prince Andrew gave to this naive question.

"If no one fought except on his own conviction, there would be no wars," he said.

"And that would be splendid," said Pierre.

Prince Andrew smiled ironically.

"Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never come about..."

"Well, why are you going to the war?" asked Pierre.

"What for? I don't know. I must. Besides that I am going..." He paused. "I am going because the life I am leading here does not suit me!"


CHAPTER VII

---------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------


The only young people remaining in the drawing room, not counting the young lady visitor and the countess' eldest daughter (who was four years older than her sister and behaved already like a grown-up person), were Nicholas and Sonya, the niece. Sonya was a slender little brunette with a tender look in her eyes which were veiled by long lashes, thick black plaits coiling twice round her head, and a tawny tint in her complexion and especially in the color of her slender but graceful and muscular arms and neck. By the grace of her movements, by the softness and flexibility of her small limbs, and by a certain coyness and reserve of manner, she reminded one of a pretty, half-grown kitten which promises to become a beautiful little cat. She evidently considered it proper to show an interest in the general conversation by smiling, but in spite of herself her eyes under their thick long lashes watched her cousin who was going to join the army, with such passionate girlish adoration that her smile could not for a single instant impose upon anyone, and it was clear that the kitten had settled down only to spring up with more energy and again play with her cousin as soon as they too could, like Natasha and Boris, escape from the drawing room.

"Ah yes, my dear," said the count, addressing the visitor and pointing to Nicholas, "his friend Boris has become an officer, and so for friendship's sake he is leaving the university and me, his old father, and entering the military service, my dear. And there was a place and everything waiting for him in the Archives Department! Isn't that friendship?" remarked the count in an inquiring tone.

"But they say that war has been declared," replied the visitor.

"They've been saying so a long while," said the count, "and they'll say so again and again, and that will be the end of it. My dear, there's friendship for you," he repeated. "He's joining the hussars."

The visitor, not knowing what to say, shook her head.

"It's not at all from friendship," declared Nicholas, flaring up and turning away as if from a shameful aspersion. "It is not from friendship at all; I simply feel that the army is my vocation."

He glanced at his cousin and the young lady visitor; and they were both regarding him with a smile of approbation.

"Schubert, the colonel of the Pavlograd Hussars, is dining with us today. He has been here on leave and is taking Nicholas back with him. It can't be helped!" said the count, shrugging his shoulders and speaking playfully of a matter that evidently distressed him.

"I have already told you, Papa," said his son, "that if you don't wish to let me go, I'll stay. But I know I am no use anywhere except in the army; I am not a diplomat or a government clerk.- I don't know how to hide what I feel." As he spoke he kept glancing with the flirtatiousness of a handsome youth at Sonya and the young lady visitor.

The little kitten, feasting her eyes on him, seemed ready at any moment to start her gambols again and display her kittenish nature.

"All right, all right!" said the old count. "He always flares up! This Buonaparte has turned all their heads; they all think of how he rose from an ensign and became Emperor. Well, well, God grant it," he added, not noticing his visit

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

q-cup [2004-01-16 05:33:44 +0000 UTC]

The Cable Guy

by Judd Apatow
Based on a Screenplay by
Lou Holtz Jr.

Shooting Script October 31, 1995 (White)
Revised Pages November 13, 1995 (Blue)
Revised Pages November 14, 1995 (Pink)

1 FULL FRAME - WHITE NOISE

Credits begin. The entire frame is filled with white noise within which one can make out thefaint
image of a television program. Every few moments the channel changes, revealing a new ghostly
image.

The camera pulls back very slowly. We reveal that this image is coming from a twenty seven inch
television.

The camera pulls back some more and we see a man's hand enter frame holding a remote
control. The hand changes channels frantically.

The camera pulls back into its final position and we see STEVEN BARTOWSKY, thirty
years old, sitting on his couch. He is trying to find a channel with viewable reception.
Unfortunately for him – his cable is not hooked up.

STEVE
(looks at watch)
Jesus, where's the cable guy already?

END OF CREDIT SEQUENCE

1A INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

It is a stylish old apartment. There are half unpacked boxes strewn about the floor. Steven has just
moved in. The phone rings.

STEVEN
(into the phone)
Hello.

2 NEWSROOM - CONTINUOUS

We see Steven's best friend RICK standing in the middle of a busy newsroom. He is a rough
looking, cynical local news cameraman. In the background, hanging from the ceiling is a television
set.

ON THE TV - An anchorman sits at his desk fixing his hair as he waits to go on the air. A graphic
on the screen says "Sam Sweet Trial Update."

RICK
How's the move going?

3 INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

Steven unpacks as they speak. The phone call intercuts between the two locations.

STEVEN
Horrible. The cable guy is missing in
action. Apparently he's going to be here
sometime between eight AM and my death.

RICK
You haven't called Robin have you?
Please tell me you didn't call her.

STEVEN
(sarcastically)
No, I'm giving her space.
(beat)
I can't believe she's doing this.

RICK
You never should have asked her to marry
you. You're the mad smotherer.

STEVEN
All she had to do was say no. She didn't
have to kick me out. I feel like Felix
Unger.

RICK
You forced her to evaluate the
relationship. If you didn't propose she
would never have realized how unhappy she
was.

STEVE
I don't want to talk about it.
So what time are you going to come by?

RICK
I can't. I'm working double shifts the
rest of the week.

STEVEN
It's my first night here. Don't do this
to me.

RICK
The other camera guy pulled out his back.
Besides, I spent the last two weeks with
you on my couch. Isn't that enough?

STEVEN
Fine, fine.

RICK
One piece of advice. Slip the cable guy
fifty bucks, he'll give you all the movie
channels for free. Even the dirty ones.

STEVEN
I couldn't. I'm not good at that stuff.
What if he says no? I'll feel like an
idiot.

RICK
None of them say no, believe me. I'll
talk to you later.

Steven hangs up, and waits.

DISSOLVE TO:

4 INT. STEVEN'S LIVING ROOM - LATER

Steven continues unpacking. He is very neat. He opens a box and finds a pictures of him with his
ex-girlfriend. He looks at one sadly, considering whether or not to put it on display. He puts it
back in the box.

4A EXT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Establishing shot of a renovated apartment building built in the nineteen twenties. A moving truck
pulls into a gated side garage.

5 INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - LATER

Movers deliver a small breakfast table and chairs. Steven directs them as to where to put them.

CLOSE UP OF CLOCK - 3:52 P.M.

6 INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - LATER

Steven puts a few feet of tin foil on his antenna to help the reception. He changes channels. Still
nothing. He pulls it off frustrated.

7 INT. STEVEN'S LIVING ROOM - LATER

Many of the boxes are gone. Steven lies on the couch, staring at the ceiling, fidgeting. He is unable

to fill his day without cable.

STEVEN
Where the hell is he?

8 INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - LATER

Steven paces back and forth across the room. He stares at his watch frequently.

CLOSE UP OF CLOCK - 5:12 P.M.

9 INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - LATER

Steven slowly eats a sandwich in his empty kitchen. He looks at the clock. It says five-thirty. He
picks up the phone and dials. A machine picks up.

ROBIN (VO)
Hi, this is Robin. Leave a message. If
you are trying to reach Steven he can now
be reached at 555-3837.

Steven hangs up.

10 INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - SUNSET

Steven does sit ups. He looks at the clock.

CLOSE UP OF THE CLOCK - 6:48 P.M.

STEVEN
(to himself)
Forget it. Idiots.

He gets up, and walks into the bathroom.

11 INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Steven gets undressed. He turns on the shower, adjusts the heat, then gets in. He tries to lose his
tension by letting the hot water engulf him. He takes some shampoo, and lathers up his hair.

THE DOORBELL RINGS
STEVEN
(annoyed)
Oh great.

THE DOORBELL RINGS SEVERAL TIMES

Steven jumps out of the shower, soaking wet, throws on a bathrobe and runs to the door.

STEVEN
Don't leave! I'm here! I'm here!

12 INT. STEVEN'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Steven runs to the door.

CABLE GUY (OS)
Hello! Cable Guy!

Steven reaches the door, and looks through the peep-hole.

P.O.V. THROUGH THE PEEPHOLE

The CABLE GUY is walking away.

INT. STEVEN'S LIVING ROOM/HALLWAY - DAY

Steven opens the door and yells to the Cable Guy.

(Revised 11/14/95 - Pink)

STEVEN
Hey, wait!

The Cable Guy turns back.

CABLE GUY
Well, look who decided to show up. I was
just gonna go collect my retirement
pension.

The Cable Guy wears a clean white jump suit, and is extremely confident despite the fact that he
speaks with a slight lisp. This lisp gives him a child-like quality.

STEVEN
You were supposed to be here four hours
ago.

CABLE GUY
Was I? So I'm the tardy one. Good to
know.

STEVEN
Yes. I had to go to the Bed 'n Bath
place, but now it's closed.
CABLE GUY

(turns to leave)
Maybe I shouldn't have come at all – jerk
off!
(turns back smiling)
I'm just joking. Let's do this.
(looks around)
Oh, the old McNair place. I never thought
they'd get the floors clean after what
happened here.

STEVEN
What happened?

CABLE GUY
(long beat)
They had a lot of cats.

They walk into Steven's living room.

CABLE GUY
Hey, this could be a cool pad. Here is a
comment card.

He pulls out a card, and hands it to Steven without turning back to look at him.

CABLE GUY
Please mail it in when I am done.

STEVEN
These go to your boss?

CABLE GUY
No, they go to me. I'm a
perfectioniss… perfectioniss…
(he strains to lose his lisp)
perfectioniss…t.
Now let's take a look at what we're
dealing with.

The Cable Guy walks around the room with his hands out, sensing the space.

CABLE GUY
Come on baby. Come on baby. Talk to me
baby. Tell me where you like it. That's
it baby.

He zones in on one wall. He fells the wall in a sensuous manner.

CABLE GUY
Here's your sweet spot.

He pulls out his drill, and begins drilling.

CABLE GUY
So your lady kicked you out.

STEVEN
What?

CABLE GUY
In preparing your service I noticed you
were previously wired across town at 1268
and a half Chestnut. Last week the
billing was transferred to one Robin
Harris. Smells like heartbreak to me.

STEVEN
I really don't want to talk about it with
you. Could you please just install my
cable? I'm going to get dressed.

CABLE GUY
No sweat.

Steven walks away, into the hallway. A moment later the Cable Guy runs to him.

CABLE GUY
Hey, I'm going to go to the hallway so I
can access the floorboards. Don't be
spooked if you hear someone crawling
underneath you.

STEVEN
Okay, whatever.

Steven walks toward his bedroom.

CABLE GUY
Put on your bathing suit 'cause you'll be
channel surfing in no time.

The Cable Guy pulls the trigger on his drill twice to punctuate his joke.

13 INT. - STEVEN'S LIVING ROOM - LATER

CLOSE UP - THE TELEVISION

RIKKI KLIEMAN from COURT TV broadcasts from their studio.

RIKKI KLIEMAN
(to camera)
So ends day fifty-four of the trial of
former child star Sam Sweet who has been
accused of shooting his twin brother,
Stan, in cold blood. The twins were
stars of the hit sitcom "Double Trouble"
which aired from nineteen seventy-seven
till nineteen eighty-four.

A video package rolls in - We see several photographs of Sam Sweet and his twin brother at
various ages. Included is the cast photo of "Double Trouble." Pictured in the photo are eight-year-
old Stan and Sam and Conrad Janis as their single dad.

We see a brief clip from "Double Trouble," starring the two eight-year-old boys, then a shot of
Sam Sweet being taken out of a police car in handcuffs.

RIKKI KLIEMAN
(to camera)
Life wasn't so sweet after the cancellation
of their program. Hollywood chewed them
up and spit them out. A frustrated Sam
turned to petty larceny, while his more
impressionable brother, Stan, fell in
with a fringe cult called "The
Brotherhood of Friends." Reduced to
tabloid fodder a fury was growing inside
of Sam. A burning need to be recognized
as an individual, not a person famous for
having an identical twin. A need that
took the form of four shotgun blasts on
the night of November fourteenth. And so
today his attorneys continue the unusual
defense of "Twin Envy."

ANGLE ON

Steven re-enters the room. The Cable Guy is watching television.

STEVEN
How's it going?

The Cable Guy holds up one finger as if to say "quiet." His eyes never leave the TV.

CABLE GUY
Guilty, guilty, guilt-freakin-tee. I
hope they fry this bastard.

Steven sees that the Cable Guy has completely redecorated the room in a fashion which makes the
room impractical for anything other than watching television. The TV is now on the stairs
blocking the entrance into the living room. All furniture faces the TV, making conversation
impossible.

STEVEN
(looks around)
What happened?

CABLE GUY
(jumps to his feet)
The arrangement of your major appliances
and your furniture was causing some noisy
pics and hum bars in your reception. I
moved a few things. Cleared it right up.
Is that cool?

STEVEN
(non-confrontational)
I… guess so.

CABLE GUY
You programmed?
(off of Steven's look)
Then let me slave your remotes.

He picks up Steven's remotes, punches in a complicated series of commands, then points them at
each other. As he holds them together he makes a face as if their power is surging through him.

CABLE GUY
Ooh, maybe we should leave these two
alone.

STEVEN
So after this I'll only need one remote
for everything?

CABLE GUY
You know you're pretty good at this. You
could be a cable guy yourself.
(he finishes)
Now let me check your levels.

With amazing alacrity he adjusts color setting, sound controls, closed captioned, etc. Then he
clicks through the channels. A music video, documentary on Hitler, Oprah Winfrey Show, starving
kids, Barney, court TV. The Cable Guy watches emotionless.

CABLE GUY
All right. That about does it. I just
have some paperwork for you to fill out.
Sign here.

Steven does.

CABLE GUY
That gave me power of attorney over you.
(beat)
Joking.

Steven laughs. The Cable Guy joins him, but then continues to laugh way too hard for way too
long. As the laugh ends it quickly turns into an awkward moment. The Cable Guy does not want
to leave.

CABLE GUY
I'm about finished here.
(beat)
Okay. I feel good about this.

Cable Guy walks to the door.

STEVEN
One thing.

CABLE GUY
(turns back immediately)
Yeah!

STEVEN
I… uh… I have this friend and he said
he gave his cable guy fifty bucks and he
got free movie channels. Have you ever
heard of anything like that?

CABLE GUY
(deadly serious)
You mean illegal cable?

STEVEN
Uh… yes.

CABLE GUY
Who told you that? I want his name.

STEVEN
Forget it.

CABLE GUY
You're offering me a bribe? What you
have just done is illegal, and in this
state if convicted, you could be fined
five-thousand dollars or spend six months
in a correctional facility.

STEVEN
Please… that was dumb. I was just
making conversation –

CABLE GUY
(laughs)
I'm just jerking your chain. Wake up
little snoozy. I'll juice you up. All
it is is a push of a button.

He puts his arm around Steven and walks him toward the front door.

STEVEN
Oh, great. How much?

CABLE GUY
Don't worry about it. I couldn't charge
you. Your girl just booted you.
Consider it one guy doing another guy a
solid.

STEVEN
That is so nice.

CABLE GUY
Hey, you're a 'nice' guy. You'd be
surprised how many customers treat you
like shit, like I'm a god damn plumber or
something.
(hands him a card)
Here is my personal beeper number. It's
just for my preferred customers. Never
call the company, they'll just put you on
hold.

STEVEN
Thanks. Really.
(holds up comment card - jokes)
You're gonna get some good marks here.

CABLE GUY
Maybe some day I'll take you out to the
satellite and show you how all this stuff
works. It's really incredible.

STEVEN
Sure. We should do that one day.

CABLE GUY
How 'bout tomorrow?

STEVEN
Tomorrow? Tomorrow's not good.

CABLE GUY
What are you going to do, sit home and
stew about your ex?

STEVEN
No.

CABLE GUY
(insulted)
Oh, okay. I guess I crossed the line.
Sorry.

STEVEN
(guilty)
You didn't cross the line.

CABLE GUY
No? Cool. I'll pick you up at six-thirty.
On the flip side.

The Cable Guy leaves before Steven can reconsider. Steven cannot believe he just got roped into
that.

(End Revision - Pink)

14 INT. CITYWIDE LAND DEVELOPERS - CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Steven is in the middle of a presentation to his co-workers. His boss, HAL DANIELS, looks
impressed.

Steven pulls a sheet off of an architect's model of a condominium complex.

STEVEN
…There are twenty-four classrooms; each
can be converted into a 1400 square foot
home. The facility has two tennis courts,
an Olympic size pool and full gym, with a
stage if the residents decide they want
to perform "Oklahoma."

Everyone laughs. Steven is very good at his job.

STEVEN
The kitsch appeal of living in an old
schoolhouse should be very attractive to
young, upwardly mobile home buyers. And
most important, the structure is
available in foreclosure. If we put down
a cash bid, we're going to steal this
thing.

There is a pause, then everyone applauds. Mr. Daniels walks over to Steven and puts a proud arm
around him. They speak as the meeting breaks up.

MR. DANIELS
Great work Steve-o. So you're feeling
good?

STEVE
Yeah.

MR. DANIELS
Did I hear something about you having
some troubles at home?

STEVE
Robin and I have been having a difficult
time. I moved out, but I really think
it's only temporary.

MR. DANIELS
Gotcha. I love this project, but it's a
big mother. Know what I mean? If it
fails, corporate's going to have my ass.
I've got confidence in you, but you hear
where I'm coming from, bro?

STEVEN
Absolutely. Now I've got more time than
ever. It's a good thing.
(laughs)
I know I can pull this thing off.

MR. DANIELS
(playfully)
Then what are you doing talking to me?
You've got a lot of work to do. Get to
it!

STEVEN
Thank you. I will.

Hal goes down the stairs to his office. Steven watches him disappear, then turns to his secretary,
JOAN.

STEVEN
I'll be right back.

14A INT. SASSY MAGAZINE OFFICES - DAY

Steven walks through the halls looking for Robin's office.

15 OMITTED

16 INT. ROBIN'S OFFICE AT SASSY MAGAZINE - DAY

ROBIN HARRIS, an attractive woman in her late twenties, sits at her desk at " Sassy Magazine."
Her office is fairly nice, but she is definitely not at the upper level of the company yet. There are
papers spread all over her desk. On her walls are pictures from the magazine, and articles she has
written.

Steven peeks his head in her door.

STEVEN
Hello.

Robin's face drops.

ROBIN
Steven, what are you doing here?

STEVEN
I was just in the area. Thought I'd pop
by. How's work? How'd the big teen crush
article come out?

(Revised 11/13/95 - Blue)

ROBIN
They liked it.
(beat)
I thought we agreed we weren't going to
see each other for a month.

STEVEN
I know, it's just Daniels accepted my
proposal to renovate the old schoolhouse.

ROBIN
That's wonderful, congratulations.

STEVEN
I know I'm breaking the rules, but come
have dinner with me tonight to celebrate.

ROBIN
I don't think we should.

STEVEN
Come on, this is the biggest day of my
career.

ROBIN
Don't put me in this position.

STEVEN
What position? I want to share this with
you.

ROBIN
(feeling pressured)
I love you, but I need to take some time
on my own to see how I feel. You agreed
to this. I mean… this is exactly why we
broke up, because you never listen to me.

STEVE
What? Now we're broken up? What
happened to 'trial separation?'

ROBIN
I can't get into this now. If you haven't
noticed, I'm at work.

STEVE
Sorry to disturb you.

He turns to leave.

(Revised 11/14/95 - Pink)

ROBIN
(sincerely)
Steven. Congratulations. I know how
much this means to you. You deserve it.

STEVEN
Thanks.

He leaves.

17 OMITTED

17A INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - SIX-THIRTY P.M.

Steven is watching television. He looks lonely and depressed. He clicks around in a daze, never
stopping for more than a second.

He hears a horn honking outside.

CABLE GUY (OS)
Steven!!!! Stev-ey!!!! Let's go!!!!

ON THE TV - A commercial for Medieval Times Restaurant.

Steven walks over to the window and sees The Cable Guy standing in front of his van, leaning in
his window honking the horn.

CABLE GUY
Steven!!!!
(waves)
Hey buddy!!! Come on down!!!

Steven waves and then steps back from the window. He doesn't know what to do. He looks at the
television.

ON THE TV - The local news.

REPORTER
Coming up next a special report,
"Loneliness, America's Silent Killer."

Steven looks back out the window and sees the Cable Guy smiling and waving for him to come
down.

STEVEN
(begins walking to the door)
What the hell.

18 EXT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT BUILDING - DUSK

Steven walks from his apartment to the customized van. On the side of the white van it says, "The
Cable Company - Get Wired Today."

STEVEN
How's it going?

CABLE GUY
Howdy partner. Climb aboard.

Steven gets in.

19 INT. VAN - CONTINUOUS

The van drives onto the main boulevard.

CABLE GUY
Thanks for coming out. You know most
people think cable is just a simple co-ax
that comes out of the wall. They never
take the time to understand how it works.

STEVEN
Where exactly are we goin?

CABLE GUY
We're going to take a ride on the
information superhighway.

20 EXT. CITY - DUSK

Birds eye P.O.V., shot follows the Cable Guy's van as it drives through the city.

CABLE GUY
…It all started in Lansford,
Pennsylvania where Panther Valley
Television, with the assistance of Jerrod
Electronics, created the first cable
television system.

The van drives up into the hills, finally revealing a huge satellite dish on top of a small mountain,
overlooking the entire city.

CABLE GUY
I went to Lansford once. It's the Cable
Guy's Mecca. It was very emotional.

21 EXT. WOODED AREA - DUSK

Steven and the Cable Guy get out of the van, and walk down a trail.

CABLE GUY
I come here to think sometimes. To clear
my head.

They turn a corner and the satellite dish is right in front of them. It is enormous. Next to it is a
one-hundred and fifty foot antenna. Next to that is a small fenced-in shack where the satellite's
controls are located.

CABLE GUY
There she is. Right now she's sending
entertainment and information to millions
of satisfied citizens.

STEVEN
That's pretty impressive.

CABLE GUY
See, I knew the moment I met you that
you would appreciate this.

The Cable Guy runs to the dish. A few seconds later he appears inside of it.

CABLE GUY
(with wonder)
The future is now. Soon every American
home will integrate their television,
phone, and computer. You'll be able to
visit the Louvre on one channel, and
watch female mud wrestling on
another. You can do your shopping at
home, or play Mortal Kombat with a friend
in Vietnam. There's no end to the
possibilities.
(waves to Steven)
Come on up! What are you waiting for?!

22 INT. SATELLITE DISH - NIGHT

The Cable Guy and Steven are lying in the middle of the dish, looking up at the night sky.

CABLE GUY
Sometimes I'll sit here and imagine that
there are billions of bits of information
surging through me.

STEVEN
I've watched a lot of TV in my life. I
guess I've always taken it for granted.

CABLE GUY
When I was a kid my mom worked nights.
Never met dad. But the old TV was always
there for me.

STEVEN
I know what you mean. My dad was there,
but he might as well have been gone. My
mom is a stewardess. She was always out
of town.

CABLE GUY
(moved)
That's tough. You must have a lot of
abandonment issues. Reality isn't " Father
Knows Best," it's a kick in the face on
Saturday night. But what doesn't kill us
makes us stronger, right?

STEVEN
(tentative)
You know my brother's a speech therapist.

The Cable Guy sits up. He looks angry.

CABLE GUY
So?

There is a long silence. Steven doesn't know how to react.

STEVEN
Never mind.

The Cable Guy sits back down and pretends Steven never mentioned it.

CABLE GUY
(beat)
So, you're pretty love struck about your
lady, huh?

STEVEN
I miss her. I asked her to marry me, and
she asked me to move out.

CABLE GUY
I hate that.

STEVEN
She said she felt pressured. Can you
believe that?

CABLE GUY
Women are a labyrinth. Can I be frank? I
don't think you listen to her. I think
you try to tell her what she wants to
hear. She wants you to thirst for
knowledge about who she is. All the
complicated splendor that is woman. When
your love is truly giving, it will come
back to you ten-fold.

STEVEN
You're right. That is remarkably
insightful.

CABLE GUY
Yeah, it was Jerry Springer's final
thought on Friday's show.

23 EXT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT BUILDING - LATER

The van pulls up in front of Steven's apartment building.

CABLE GUY
You know what? Women are suckers for
"Sleepless in Seattle." It's on HBO this
month. That's your bait right there.

STEVEN
Robin loves that movie.

CABLE GUY
They all do. Next time you talk to her
tell her you're cooking yourself dinner,
and watching it by yourself. Sound like
you're happier than a pig in shit.
She'll come running. Betcha. Then just
play it cool.

STEVEN
Maybe I will.

Steven gets out of the car.

STEVEN
Thanks a lot. I'm embarrassed to say
this, but I don't know your name. What
is it?

CABLE GUY
(touched)
You really want to know my name? You do?
Really? It's Ernie Douglas. But my
friends call me Chip.

STEVEN
I'll see ya' Chip.

Before he can exit the van, the Cable Guy is staring him in the eyes.

CABLE GUY
Let's just remember right now. You know
some people walk through their entire
lives and never find a true friend.
(long pause)
I guess we're the lucky ones.

(End Revised - Pink)

STEVEN'S P.O.V. - The Cable Guy is in slow motion. He blinks once.

STEVEN
Uh… good-bye.

CABLE GUY
Later buddy. I'll catch ya' on the
flip side.

Steven exits the van feeling a little uncomfortable.

24 INT. COFFEEHOUSE - NEXT DAY

Steven and Robin are talking. Robin does not look happy to see him.

STEVEN
I don't listen to you. I pretend to
understand but I'm really just saying
what I think you want to hear. So from
now on I'm going to try my best to listen
more because I do love you and am
interested in learning about every detail
about the complicated splendor that is
you.

Robin looks at him, somewhat shocked.

ROBIN
Oh.

STEVEN
I want us to get back together, but I can
see why taking this time might be good
for us. So, I'm not mad.

After a long beat, Robin smiles.

ROBIN
Sometimes time apart is healthy.

STEVEN
You're right. Well, that's what I came
here to say. Look, I've got to get back
to the office.

He starts getting up.

ROBIN
So, are you doing anything tomorrow?

STEVEN
I'm just going to cook myself dinner and
watch a movie. "Sleepless in Seattle" is
on cable.

ROBIN
Really?

STEVEN
If you're around you should drop by and
check out the new apartment.

ROBIN
Okay, maybe I will.

He exits the room. As he does we see a television broadcasting the Sweet case.

ON MTV - Sam Sweet sits behind the defendant's table. TABITHA SOREN is giving the news
update.

TABITHA SOREN
Today in the Sam Sweet case the
prosecution played the 911 call that Sam
Sweet made the night he murdered his
brother. Keep in mind, he confessed one
month later.

The courtroom listens to a 911 phone call. The transcription is seen on the screen.

SAM SWEET V ON THE TAPE
(crying and babbling)
Hello, please send help. My twin brother
has been shot.

911 OPERATOR
Slow down sir. What happened?

SAM SWEET
Oh my god, they shot him with a shot gun
four times. I mean I think it was a
shotgun. Who would do such a thing?! I
think it was an Asian gang or something.
They were speaking some other language.

Sam leans over and whispers something in his lawyer's ear.

TABITHA SOREN
Hmm. Who indeed? Coming up next, a rare
interview with Michael Jackson's zoo-
keeper.

25 INT. HIGH SCHOOL GYM - DAY

Steven is playing a pick-up, full court basketball game with some of his friends. It is a competitive,
but friendly game. Steven is on skins, Rick is on shirts.

STEVEN
Here, here, here.

A player passes to Steven. Rick is covering him. Steven drives to the basket and puts in a lay up.

RICK
(to himself)
Shit! My fault! My fault!

STEVEN
Not your fault. I'm in the zone. There
is no stopping me today.

Play begins again. A player named JEFF takes the ball out, then passes to a heavy-set player who
catches the ball, then drives to the basket. When he does he twists his ankle, dropping the ball. The
ball rolls out of bounds into a dark corner of the gym. We follow it as it rolls on the ground until it
hits a man's sneaker. A pair of hands pick up the ball. The camera tilts up the man's body. It is the
Cable Guy. He is holding another ball. He starts dribbling the two balls in a circular pattern.

CABLE GUY
Hey, you guys play here, too? Cool. I
was just in the neighborhood. Thought I'd
run the court for a couple of innings.

RICK
(gestures to injured player)
Great. We need another man.

STEVEN
This is… Chip Douglas… my cable guy.

Rick smiles in recognition.

CABLE GUY
We met about a week ago during a routine
installation, but I feel like I've known
him my whole life.

Steven can't believe this is happening.

RICK
Oh really. That's sweet. All right Chip
Douglas, you're on shirts. Let's play.

CABLE GUY
No, I want to be on Steven's team. I'm
skins.

The Cable Guy quickly takes off his shirt. Steven looks shocked because underneath his clothes he
is rippled with muscles. The dichotomy between his nerdy face, and his awesome physique is
scary.

JEFF
I don't care, I'll be shirts. Let's just
play.

CABLE GUY
Wait a sec'. I've got to warm up.

The Cable Guy starts running wind sprints across the court, touching all the main lines. Everyone
stares at him until he finishes.

CABLE GUY
Let's get it on!

STEVEN
Are you any good?

CABLE GUY
Feed me under the boards and you'll find
out.

Play begins. The shirts inbound to Jeff. The Cable Guy is all over him, covering him as tightly as
humanly possible. He keeps his hands near Jeff's face, whacks him in the back as he dribbles, etc.
He couldn't be more annoying. Jeff passes to Rick who drives to the basket and puts up a shot
which goes in. Rick and Jeff slap hands.

CABLE GUY
(doing the traveling hand signal)
Traveling! That's traveling!

RICK
Yeah, whatever you say Chip.

Everyone runs down the court, ignoring him.

CABLE GUY
All right, so we're playing that type of
game. Prison rules. I get it.

Steven takes the ball out. The cable Guy runs around the court, attempting to get open. He criss
crosses all over the court.

CABLE GUY
Feed me the rock! Feed me the rock! I'm
open!

Steven passes to the Cable Guy, who drives to the basket, pushing Jeff out of the way in the
process. The ball goes in.

CABLE GUY
(does the foul hand signal)
And one! That's definitely a foul!
(to Jeff)
You want to mug me, my wallet is in my
other pants.

STEVEN
(to Cable Guy)
What are you doing?

CABLE GUY
Don't play from fear Steven. We can take
these guys.

MUSIC UP - SLOW MOTION - STEVEN'S P.O.V.

a. The shirts put a shot which doesn't go in. The Cable Guy swings his elbows wildly as he pulls it
down.
b. The Cable Guy drives to the basket in slow motion violently taking down two men, including
Rick.
c. Rick drives to the basket. On his way he fakes out Steven who falls to the floor. Rick scores.
The Cable guy helps Steven up. As the Cable Guy walks across the court he bangs shoulders
with Rick.
d. The cable Guy passes the ball to Steven, then sets a nasty pick against Rick, who goes down
hard.

CABLE GUY
Take it to the hole!

Steven is so un-nerved by the Cable Guy's behavior that he misses a simple lay up. Steven grabs
his own rebound. When he puts up a second shot, Rick gently fouls him. Steven stumbles to the
ground. The ball does not go in.

CABLE GUY
Hey, are you okay?

He pulls Steven up.

STEVEN
Yeah. I'm fine.

CABLE GUY
Let's switch. I'll cover Rick.

The cable Guy gets in Rick's face and gives him a death stare.

Steven takes out the ball. He passes to a teammate who passes it to the Cable Guy who drives to
the basket, then literally steps on Rick's back and leaps into the air and dunks the ball.

RICK
(enraged)
What the hell was that? That's it. I've
had enough.

Everyone begins to exit the court.

JEFF
Thanks for bringing your "friend".

The Cable Guy runs up to Rick.

CABLE GUY
Good game.
(slaps Rick on the butt)
You were tough out there. Your play
brought me up to a higher level. I mean
that.

RICK
(dismissive)
Yeah.

He shakes his head and exits with the rest of the players.

STEVEN
What are you doing?

CABLE GUY
It was payback time. I was protecting
you.

(Revised 11/14/95 - Pink)

STEVEN
You ruined the game.

CABLE GUY
I don't appreciate your tone Steven.
That's not the way friends speak to each
other.

STEVEN
What are you talking about? I don't even
know you!

CABLE GUY
Well let's fix that. Let me buy you a
Heineken?

STEVEN
No, I'm going home.

Steven turns to leave.

CABLE GUY
Well, uh, I guess we'll talk later. I've
got to go shower up and do some stuff.
I'll call you if I get a chance. Or you
call me… or something.

The Cable guy puts his hand up for Steven to high five. Steven slaps it halfheartedly. Then the
cable guy extends his palm out low by his knee.

CABLE GUY
And down low.

Steven stares at it for a beat. The cable Guy waits. He'll wait as long as it takes. Finally Steven
gives him a low five just so he can leave.

CABLE GUY
(pulls his hand away so Steven misses it)
Too slow. Have a good one.

STEVEN
(as he walks away)
Yeah, have a good one.

26 INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - NEXT NIGHT

Steven runs in with a small bag of groceries. He is dressed for a date. He pulls out a bottle of
wine. He opens the oven, and checks on dinner. It is almost ready. Then he checks his message
machine as he prepares the meal. He begins chopping an onion.

(Revised 11/13/95 - Blue)

MESSAGE VOICE
You have eleven messages.

STEVEN'S MOTHER
(ON THE MACHINE)
Steven, it's mom. Give me a call. I'm
still your mother.

STEVEN'S FATHER
(ON THE MACHINE)
I'm getting on. Steven call your mother.

CABLE GUY
(ON THE MACHINE)
Hey Steven. Just checking in. Give me a
ring. I'm at 555-4329.
(beep)
What's up Steven? I'm at a pay phone. If
you're there pick up. Pick up. Pick up.
Okay, I'll be home later. I'll talk to
you then.

Steven stops chopping.

CABLE GUY
(ON THE MACHINE)
(beep)
Okay I'm home now. Give me a buzz when
you get in. I'll be here pretty much all
night. Bye.
(beep tone)
Hey Steven. Quick question, give me a
call when you get a chance.
(beep tone)
I was just taking a whiz, thought you
might have called. Okay later.
(beep tone)
Sorry, I had call waiting, didn't get to
it, thought it might have been you. All
right, bye.

Steven is beginning to get a little wigged out by this. He fast forwards through a sampling of the
rest of the calls.

CABLE GUY
(fast forwards)
…We're having ourselves quite a little
game of phone tag here. You're it!
(fast forwards)
…I was just blow drying my hair and I
thought I heard the phone ringing.
(fast forwards)
…you're a tough man to reach.
(fast forwards)
I guess you're too busy to call your
friends.

(Revision Ends - Blue)

Steven fast forwards the machine. All he hears is sighing. Then –

CABLE GUY
(ON THE MACHINE)
(long beat - then quiet and distant)
Shit.

The doorbell rings. Steven takes a deep breath then opens the door. It is Robin. She is dressed
casually, but looks beautiful.

STEVEN
Hey, good to see you.

There is an awkward moment where Steven intentionally doesn't kiss her hello.

STEVEN
Come on in. What do you think of the
place?

She looks at the odd placement of furniture.

ROBIN
You made some interesting choices laying
out the room.

STEVEN
(embarrassed)
That's actually where the movers put the
furniture. I'm gonna change it, very
soon.

ROBIN
No, I like it.

27 INT. STEVEN'S LIVING ROOM - LATER

The food is all eaten. Steven and Robin are sitting on the couch having an awkward conversation.

ROBIN
So how's work?

STEVEN
Work's good.

ROBIN
How's Hal?

STEVEN
Don't get me started. That guy has no
vision. It's like working for Mr. MaGoo.
He's just worthless.

ROBIN
It's just great that you're getting to do
it. It's a real step up.

STEVEN
I know. Now if only someone at corporate
smartened up enough to dump Hal, then I
could really get some stuff done.

ROBIN
It's nice to see you doing so well.

STEVEN
Well, it's nice just to see you.
(looks at his watch)
Hey, it should be starting.

They sit on the couch. Robin moves to sit in closer to Steven. Steven turns on the television. The
screen is filled with white noise. The sound is loud static. He changes channels looking for the
signal. Then fumbles with the remote control as he attempts to lower the volume.

STEVEN
Damn cable is out. Son of a bitch.

ROBIN
It's alright. We can watch it another
night.

STEVEN
No, no. We really should see it now.
Now's a good time.

He plays with the remote, hoping it will magically come back. It doesn't.

STEVEN
Wait, wait. I know what to do.

He walks over to the phone, then pulls the Cable Guy's beeper number out of his wallet. He dials
it, then presses the number in.

STEVEN
The Cable Guy's a friend of mine. I'll
just page him. We'll have this fixed in
no time.

(Revised 11/14/95 - Pink)

Steven dials the Cable Guy's beeper number into the phone. The moment he is finished dialing –

THERE IS A KNOCK - THE CAMERA WHIP PANS TO THE DOOR

Steven walks to the door and opens it. Standing there is the Cable Guy looking dark and
disturbed, different than we've ever seen him before. Steven is startled.

STEVEN
That was… fast.

CABLE GUY
Is there a problem with your service?

STEVEN
Yeah… my cable went out.

Steven pushes him out into the hall.

CABLE GUY
Really?

The Cable Guy holds up a cut cable cord.

CABLE GUY
So you called me. Interesting how you
call when you need something. Is that how
you treat people?

STEVEN
I've been really busy. You've got to get
my cable going, Robin is here. This is
really important.

He peeks in to get a look at Robin. They make momentary eye contact. Steven pushes him back
out.

CABLE GUY
But calling me back isn't?

STEVEN
I'm sorry. Please, you've got to help me.

CABLE GUY
Why should I help you? I gave you free
cable. What have you ever done for me?

STEVEN
Anything you want. Name it – quickly.

CABLE GUY
Tomorrow night, we hang out.

STEVEN
Fine, whatever you want.

CABLE GUY
God bless you. You're too good to me.

The Cable Guy walks over to a fuse type box, turns one knob, then walks back to Steven.

CABLE GUY
(loud-normally)
All set.

STEVEN
So what's with the cut cord?

CABLE GUY
(nonchalantly)
That's for effect. See ya' tomorrow
Steven.
(conspiratorially)
She's pretty. And don't kiss her. Don't
even touch her. Fight the urge at all
costs. It will pay off later with…

He makes a motion which implies sex.

CABLE GUY
Enjoy the flick.

The Cable Guy walks away. Steven walks back inside.

ROBIN
Who was that?

STEVEN
Nobody.

Steven sits down next to Robin. Robin moves next to him. Steven looks very happy.

28 ON THE TV

A scene from the film "Sleepless in Seattle."

The camera pulls out and reveals the Cable Guy watching the film in the back of his van – alone.
We cannot see much of the inside of the van because the only light is that of the television, but we
can tell that he lives there.

29 (SCENE 29 OMITTED)

30 EXT. PARKING LOT - DUSK

The Cable Guy and Steven walk across a parking lot. Steven has his eyes closed.

CABLE GUY
Sorry about yesterday. I was in kind of
a weird mood. How'd things go with you?
Keep 'em closed.

STEVEN
Pretty well. We'll see. Look, about the
other night. I didn't appreciate you --

CABLE GUY
Don't peek. I want this to be a
surprise.

STEVEN
I really don't need to be surprised.
Where are we going?

CABLE GUY
Only the best restaurant in town.

They walk around a corner.

CABLE GUY
Okay, here we are. Open sesame.

Steven opens his eyes.

The camera moves behind then and reveals an enormous faux castle with a big sign on it which
says "MEDIEVAL TIMES RESTAURANT."

STEVEN
Medieval Times?

CABLE GUY
I know what you're thinking. Don't
worry, I'm buying.

31 INT. MEDIEVAL TIMES - LATER

The Cable Guy and Steven are walking to their table. All the seating overlooks a large, circular
arena, the kind a rodeo is held in. The entire restaurant/arena is designed in Medieval themed
decor. All of the staff are dressed as knights, sorcerers, royalty, etc.

(Revision Ends - Pink)

STEVEN
Funny. I never thought I would ever
come here.

CABLE GUY
I love this place. I come here twice a
week.

A Hispanic woman with a large butt walks by. The Cable Guy is transfixed.

CABLE GUY
Oh man, that's my look. I love big
butts. Ow, that hurts.

He grabs his crotch and squeezes, as if it's the only way he can control himself.

CABLE GUY
There oughta be a law. Man she is hot.
It's just not fair.

STEVEN
(gestures to him squeezing his crotch)
Please don't.

CABLE GUY
You know what I need right now? Pooooon
tang. And I'm not talking about the
place in Vietnam.

STEVEN
Good to know.

They sit down. The WAITRESS walks over. She is dressed in peroid clothes, but is not
enthusiastic about her job.

WAITRESS
(flatly)
Welcome to Medieval Times. My name is
Melinda. I'll be your serving wench.
May I get you something from the bar
keep?

CABLE GUY
(too into it)
Dost thou have a mug of ale for me
and me mate? He has been pitched in
battle for a fortnight an has a King's
thirst for the beer thust thou might have
for thust.

WAITRESS
(uninspired)
I'll be right back my lord.

The Cable Guy puts something together.

CABLE GUY
There you go.

He hands Steven a paper crown. They both put theirs on.

STEVEN
Thanks for the help.

The Cable Guy sees something. His eyes widen.

CABLE GUY
Steven, don't turn around, but there is a
woman eyeing you like you are a piece of
meat and she hasn't eaten in a week.

Steven acts like he isn't interested, but he is.

STEVEN
Really? What does she look like?

CABLE GUY
Shoe's a hottie. I wish she was checking
me out. Man -- she is on fire! Total
robo-babe.

STEVEN
Are you serious?

CABLE GUY
Don't look.

STEVEN
I've got to look.

CABLE GUY
Okay, but play it cool. Just turn like
you are looking for the waitress.

Steven puts up his hand, and turns as if he's going to call for the waitress. He sees the woman. She
is in her sixties, and probably wasn't attractive at any stage of her life. Steven turns back to the
cable Guy, annoyed.

CABLE GUY
Ha-ha. I'm just messing with your mind.
But you fell for it man. You are one
horny Indian Chief.

STEVEN
(not laughing)
You got me.

CABLE GUY
So what did you want to rap about?

The trumpets go off, the lights go down and the show begins.

CABLE GUY
Hold that thought. Show's on.

The Cable Guy turns and looks at a stage that stands at one end above the arena.

32 ON THE STAGE - A MAN WHO LOOKS LIKE ALAN RICKMAN IN "ROBIN
HOOD" SPEAKS TO THE CROWD

HOST
Welcome to a magnificent journey into the
past. This is Medieval Times!

The entire crowd, filled completely with white trash tourists, applauds.

HOST
Are you prepapred for a night of feasting
and sport the likes of which ye will
never forget?!

The audience applauds.

HOST
I charge you to stand up on your feet and
cheer for your section's knight!

ON THE STANDS - Each section of the crowd is painted a color that corresponds with a knight.
The Cable Guy stands up and cheers like he is at a wrestling match. Steven remains seated.

CABLE GUY
Let the games begin! The Red Knight
rules! Blue Knight! You're going down!
Going down!

An embarrassed Steven applauds politely. The Cable Guy sits down.

33 INT. MEDIEVAL TIMES - LATER

ON THE FLOOR - In the center of the room two Knights are fighting with swords while on
horseback.

ON STEVEN AND THE CABLE GUY - They are eating whole chickens with their bare hands
while watching the show.

STEVEN
(to the Watiress)
Could I get a knife and fork?

WAITRESS
There were no utensils in Medieval Times,
so there are no utensils at 'Medieval
Times.' Do you want a refill on that
Pepsi?

STEVEN
There were no utensils, but there was
Pepsi?

WAITRESS
Look, I have a lot of tables to get to.

The waitress exits.

CABLE GUY
(stands up - yells to the competitors)
Spill his blood! Take his kead! Show no
mercy!

The two knights fight with swords. After a few moments of battle the Red Knight wins.

The crowd erupts. The Cable Guy goes crazy.

CABLE GUY
(to Steven)
Come on, get into it, we won!

Releuctantly, Steven stands up and applauds.

STEVEN
(halfheartedly)
Way to go Red Knight. Good job of
killing. Good work.

Steven and the Cable Guy sit down.

CABLE GUY
So, what were you saying before?

STEVEN
(tentatively)
How do I put this? I've really enjoyed
hanging out with you, but...

CABLE GUY
That's why I became a cable guy. To make
friends like you. Every time I walk up to
a new door, that door is a possibility
for friendship. When I walked in your
apartment I knew there was something
there. I just knew it.

STEVEN
(sotto)
Oh lord.
(tries to get back on track)
I want you to know --

The lights change. Trumpets play a fanfare. The host walks out onto the stage, interrupting
Steven.

HOST
We have reached the climax of our
competition good people! Now, two noble
men from our audience will battle to the
death to resolve a grievance. Will a
Master...
(looks at his clipboard)
Steven M. Bartowsky and Lord Ernie
Douglas make you way to the fighting
pit!

A spotlight shines on them. Steven is shocked.

STEVEN
What's going on?

CABLE GUY
We're going to do battle. It'll be fun.

STEVEN
Is this a normal part of the show?

CABLE GUY
No, but I give all the Knights free
cable. They said it would be cool if we
just went at it for a little while.

Two PIMPLY FACED SERFS from the show come and lead them away.

STEVEN
Is this safe?

CABLE GUY
That's what the armor's for.

34 INT. FIGHTING PIT - LATER

Steven and the Cable Guy are being dressed in armor by the two serfs. The Cable Guy could not
be happier. Steven is freaked out.

STEVEN
What are we supposed to do? We've got to
be careful we don't hurt each other.

The Cable Guy doesn't answer him. He has his game face on.

CABLE GUY
I cannot listen to any of your
instructions for you are my sworn enemy,
and are about to meet your demise.

Before Steven can answer him the trumpets blare.

HOST
Let the battle begin. Come now people,
let me hear your voices!

The crowd cheers. Music plays. The serfs hand them each a sword and shield, then walk them to
the center of the pit.

The Cable Guy crouches in a war-like position. He begins to circle Steven like a cat. Steven
mirrors him, not sure of what to do.

STEVEN
Just take it easy.

The Cable Guy runs at Steven, and swings his sword. In fear, Steven puts his shield over his head.
The sword smashes into it sending sparks into the air. The Cable Guy darts toward Steven and
pokes him several times with his sword. Each time Steven blocks it with either his sword or his
shield.

STEVEN
(enraged)
What are you doing?!

CABLE GUY
(matter of fact)
I'm trying to kill you.

The Cable Guy grabs a mace (a stick with a chain and ball attached to it) off of a weapon filled
wall and runs at Steven, swinging with abandon. Steven blocks the deadly mace with his shield.

STEVEN
Hey, watch it!

The Cable Guy leaps onto Steven. Then he speaks into his ear as he pushes him down onto the
ground.

CABLE GUY
This is just like when Spock had to fight
Kirk on 'Star Trek.' Best friends forced
to do battle.

Steven gets angry and pushes the Cable Guy off of him. He swings at the Cable Guy with his
sword, just missing him. The Cable Guy rolls on the ground and pops back up in the air.

CABLE GUY
That's the spirit. Let's give 'em a good
show.

Steven charges at the Cable Guy, swinging wildly. It is a real battle now. He bangs away at the
Cable Guy's mace until he knocks it out of his hands. The Cable Guy runs backwards, then falls on
the ground.

By the look in his eyes we can tell that the Cable Guy's feelings are hurt.

CABLE GUY
So that's how it's gonna be, huh? All
right. If you want to play rought, Daddy
can play rough.

The Cable Guy charges at Steven with his shield. He upper cuts the shield to Steven's face,
sending him to the ground.

The Cable Guy runs to the wall and grabs a huge battle ax, a four foot long stick with a fancy
silver blade on the end of it. He swings it in circles like a Japanese master. Steven grabs a similar
weapon, and then begin to circle each other.

STEVEN
Chip, this isn't funny! Will you stop
it!

CABLE GUY
The name is Spock. If we don't battle to
the death, they'll kill us both. Good-bye
Jim.

He swings his sword, and they battle 'Star Trek' style. The Cable Guy begins to sing the "Star Trek
Battle Music" as they fight.

STEVEN
This isn't 'Star Trek!'

MUSIC UP: STAR TREK BATTLE MUSIC

They bang the handles of their battle axes together, jockeying for position. The Cable Guy pushes
Steven away from him, then takes a huge swing, but Steven leaps in the air over the blade. The
Cable Guy swings over his head, and Steven blocks it with his ax handle. They continue to swing
and roll in a vicious battle.

Then the Cable Guy takes a swing which Steven is unable to block. The battle ax cuts through part
of Steven's protection.
STEVEN
(looking down)
Jesus.

The Cable Guy runs to a horses' entrance. There is a long pause, and then we hear the sound of
pounding horse hooves. A moment later the Cable Guy rides out on a horse holding a jousting
stick.

The show's host runs up to Steven.

HOST
Quickly, muster a top your steed.
(Steven doesn't move - the host drops character)
Get on the god damn horse! I don't think
he's kidding!

Left with no choice, Steven jumps on a horse and grabs a joust. The host smacks Steven's horse
sending it straight toward the charging Cable Guy.
STEVEN
Don't do this!
CABLE GUY
Jim, we have no choice!
STEVEN
Oh my god.

They run toward each other. A horrible game of chicken. Neither gives in. When they reach one
another Steven knocks the Cable Guy off his horse with his jousting stick.
The Cable Guy flies through the air, lands on his back. Steven rides to him. Jumps off his horse,
throws off his helmet.
STEVEN
(concerned)
Are you okay?

The Cable Guy sits up and smile at him.
CABLE GUY
Well done good sir. You are the victor,
but we shall meet again.

The two serfs put Steven on a chair connected to two poles. They carry him to the center of the
arena in victory. The crowd cheers wildly. Steven feels the adrenaline rush. He holds up his arms
in triumph, and smiles.
DISSOLVE TO LATER:
35 INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT
They are walking up the stairs.
CABLE GUY
You've got a real warrior's instinct.
STEVEN
I've got to admit there's a real feeling
of power holding that jousting stick.
CABLE GUY
If Robin saw you tonight, she would be
begging you to take her back. I'm
telling you these knights get laid all
the time.
STEVEN
We should go again next week.
CABLE GUY
Easy there Lancelot.

Steven opens the door to his apartment.
36 INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS
Steven pops into the kitchen and hits a button on his answering machine.
MACHINE
You have zero messages.
CABLE GUY
Nobody loves ya.
(grabs a beer from the fridge)
Hey, I think I left my staple gun in the
living room the other day. Could you be
a pal?

Steven walks to the living room.
36AA INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Steven turns on the lights.
CABLE GUY
What do you think?

Steven's entire stereo system and TV have been replaced with a sixty-five inch television, laser disc
player, karaoke machine and a brand new stereo system. All top of the line.
STEVEN
What is this?
CABLE GUY
I took the liberty of updating your in
home entertainment system. I got you the
big screen, plus THX quality sound that
would make George Lucas cream in his
pants.
STEVEN
You went in my house when I wasn't home?
CABLE GUY
How else was I supposed to get the stuff
in here? Magic?
STEVEN
How much did this cost?
CABLE GUY
Practically nothing. I have a connection.
Preferred customer. I hook him up, he
hooks me up.
STEVEN
Look, I can't accept this. I wouldn't
feel right.
CABLE GUY
Yes but you give me something so much
more valuable… friendship.
STEVEN
And you've given me friendship, so we're
even.
(beat)
Really, don't take it personally, but
you've got to take it back.
CABLE GUY
(sadly)
Well, my buddy with the pick-up truck
works all week. Is it all right if I
leave it here till Saturday?
STEVEN
(guilty)
Sure, no problem. And don't get me
wrong. I really appreciate the gesture.
CABLE GUY
Mm-hmm.
(beat)
Staple gun?
STEVEN
Oh, right.

Steven picks up the staple gun. The Cable Guy pulls out a leather pouch. Steven drops the staple
gun in the pouch. The Cable Guy never touches it.
36A INT. STEVEN'S OFFICE - NEXT DAY
Steven dials the phone. On his computer screen a graphic reads "HELLO STEVEN - HAVE A
WONDERFUL DAY."
STEVEN
(into the phone)
Robin, it's Steven again. I'm still
trying to reach you. Okay, I'm at work.
Call me.

He hangs up. He is getting frustrated. The door opens. Hal Daniels sticks his head in, but does not
enter.
MR. DANIELS
How's it going?
STEVEN
Good.
MR. DANIELS
(long beat)
Good good?
STEVEN
Great.
MR. DANIELS
Good. Keep it up.

He leaves. The phone rings.
SECRETARY
(through the intercom)
Robin on line two.

Steven lights up. He takes a deep breath, then answers the phone.
STEVEN
Hey, I had the best time the other night.
When am I going to get you on my couch
again?

36B INT. VAN - DAY
The Cable Guy is driving around. He speaks on a cellular phone.
CABLE GUY
Well tonight's not looking too good. How
about tomorrow?
STEVEN
Chip?
CABLE GUY
I knew I'd get you on the phone that way.
Listen, that equipment will be history
the day after tomorrow. It sure would be
a pity to leave that karaoke machine a
virgin.
STEVEN
What do you mean?
CABLE GUY
Tomorrow night, you are having a karaoke
jam. No ifs ands or buts. Well maybe a
few butts. Later gator.

37 INT. STEVEN'S APARTMENT - SATURDAY NIGHT
CLOSE UP - AN OLD MAN'S FACE INTENSELY SINGING "AMERICAN WOMAN."
We pull out to reveal we are in Steven's living room. It is populated with about twenty odd
looking misfits mingling and dancing to the music. Among them we see Rick looking very
uncomfortable.
37AA INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
Steven is on the phone. He is dressed up. Occasionally a misfit enters and grabs a drink from the
fridge.
STEVEN
Hey Robin. What's up? Did you get my
message?

37A INT. - ROBIN'S APARTMENT - INTERCUT
The scene intercuts between the two locations. Robin is dressed up, and on her way out.
ROBIN
Yes. You left me five messag

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

blue-arson [2004-01-16 04:11:27 +0000 UTC]

In Congress, July 4, 1776

The Unanimous Declaration of the Thirteen United States of America

When, in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the Powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers form the consent of the governed. That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. --Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their Public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative Powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the meantime exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavored to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our People, and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislature.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to Civil Power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their acts of pretended legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by mock Trial, from Punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the inhabitants of these States:

For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing taxes on us without our Consent:

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:

For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offenses:

For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighboring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule in these Colonies:

For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments.

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with Power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burned our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries to complete the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun

with circumstances of Cruelty and perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free People.

Nor have We been wanting in attention to our Brittish brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by the Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the Protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.

John Hancock

Georgia
Button Gwinnett
Lyman Hall
Geo. Walton

North Carolina
Wm. Hooper
Joseph Hewes
John Penn

South Carolina
Edward Rutledge
Thos. Heyward, Junr.
Thomas Lynch, Junr.
Arthur Middleton

Maryland
Samuel Chase
Wm. Paca
Thos. Stone
Charles Carroll of Carrollton

Virginia
George Wythe
Richard Henry Lee
Th. Jefferson
Benja. Harrison
Ths. Nelson, Jr.
Francis Lightfoot Lee
Carter Braxton

Pennsylvania
Robt. Morris
Benjamin Rush
Benja. Franklin
John Morton
Geo. Clymer
Jas. Smith
Geo. Taylor
James Wilson
Geo. Ross

Delaware
Caesar Rodney
Geo. Read
Tho. M'Kean

New York
Wm. Floyd
Phil. Livingston
Frans. Lewis
Lewis Morris

New Jersey
Richd. Stockton
Jno. Witherspoon
Fras. Hopkinson
John Hart
Abra. Clark

New Hampshire
Josiah Bartlett
Wm. Whipple
Matthew Thornton

Massachusetts-Bay
Saml. Adams
John Adams
Robt. Treat Paine
Elbridge Gerry

Rhode Island
Step. Hopkins
William Ellery

Connecticutt
Roger Sherman
Sam'el Huntington
Wm. Williams
Oliver Wolcott

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

r-coonfield [2004-01-16 02:18:52 +0000 UTC]

hi does ne1 no how 2 work this i cant find how 2 add u 2 my list LOL
bestwishs

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

fried-wind [2004-01-16 01:58:35 +0000 UTC]

TRAVELS INTO SEVERAL REMOTE NATIONS OF THE WORLD

BY LEMUEL GULLIVER, FIRST A SURGEON,
THEN A CAPTAIN OF SEVERAL SHIPS.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR BENJ. MOTTE,
AT THE MIDDLE TEMPLE-GATE IN FLEET-STREET.
M,DCC,XXVI.

A LETTER from Capt. Gulliver, to his Cousin Sympson

I HOPE you will be ready to own publickly, whenever you shall be called
to it, that by your great and frequent Urgency you prevailed on me to
publish a very loose and uncorrect Account of my Travels; with Direction
to hire some young Gentlemen of either University to put them in Order,
and correct the Style, as my Cousin Dampier did by my Advice, in his
Book calledA Voyage round the World. But I do not remember I gave you
Power to consent that any thing should be omitted, and much less that any
thing should be inserted: therefore, as to the latter, I do here renounce
every thing of that Kind; particularly a Paragraph about her Majesty the
late Queen Anne, of most pious and glorious Memory; although I did
reverence and esteem her more than any of human Species. But you, or
your Interpolator, ought to have considered, that as it was not my
Inclination, so was it not decent to praise any Animal of our Composition
before my Master Houyhnhnm: And besides the Fact was altogether false;
for to my Knowledge, being in England during some Part of her Majesty's
Reign, she did govern by a chief Minister; nay, even by two successively;
the first whereof was the Lord of Godolphin, and the second the Lord of
Oxford; so that you have made me say the thing that was not. Likewise, in
the Account of the Academy of Projectors, and several Passages of my
Discourse to my Master Houyhnhnm, you have either omitted some
material Circumstances, or minced or changed them in such a Manner, that
I do hardly know mine own Work. When I formerly hinted to you
something of this in a Letter, you were pleased to answer that you were
afraid of giving Offense; that People in Power were very watchful over the
Press, and apt not only to interpret, but to punish every thing which looked
like an Innuendo (as I think you called it.) But pray, how could that which
I spoke so many Years ago, and at about five Thousand leagues distance, in
another Reign, be applied to any of the Yahoos who now are said to govern
the Herd; especially at a time when I little thought on or feared the
Unhappiness of living under them. Have not I the most reason to complain,
when I see these very Yahoos carried by Houyhnhnms in a Vehicle, as if
these were Brutes, and those the rational Creatures? And indeed, to avoid
so monstrous and detestable a Sight was one principal Motive of my
Retirement hither.

Thus much I thought proper to tell you in Relation to yourself, and to the
Trust I reposed in you.

I do in the next Place complain of my own great Want of Judgement, in
being prevailed upon by the Intreaties and false Reasonings of you and
some others, very much against mine own Opinion, to suffer my Travels to
be published. Pray bring to your Mind how often I desired you to consider,
when you insisted on the Motive of publick good; that the Yahoos were a
species of Animals utterly incapable of Amendment by Precepts or
Examples: And so it hath proved; for instead of seeing a full Stop put to all
Abuses and Corruptions, at least in this little Island, as I had Reason to
expect: Behold, after above six Months Warning, I cannot learn that my
Book hath produced one single Effect according to mine Intentions: I
desired you would let me know by a Letter, when Party and Faction were
extinguished; Judges learned and upright; Pleaders honest and modest, with
some Tincture of common Sense; and Smithfield blazing with Pyramids of
Law-Books; the young Nobility's Education entirely changed; the
Physicians banished; the female Yahoos abounding in Virtue, Honour,
Truth and good Sense; Courts and Levees of great Ministers thoroughly
weeded and swept; Wit, Merit and Learning rewarded; all Disgracers of
the Press in Prose and Verse condemned to eat nothing but their own
Cotten, and quench their Thirst with their own Ink. These, and a Thousand
other Reformations, I firmly counted upon by your Encouragement; as
indeed they were plainly deducible from the Precepts delivered in my
Book. And, it must be owned that seven Months were a sufficient Time to
correct every Vice and Folly to which Yahoos are subject, if their Natures
had been capable of the least Disposition to Virtue or Wisdom: Yet so far
have you been from answering mine Expectation in any of your Letters;
that on the contrary you are loading our Carrier every Week with Libels,
and Keys, and Reflections, and Memoirs, and Second Parts; wherein I see
myself accused of reflecting upon great States-Folk, of degrading human
Nature (for so they have still the Confidence to stile it), and of abusing the
Female Sex. I find likewise that the Writers of those Bundles are not
agreed among themselves; for some of them will not allow me to be
Author of my own Travels; and others make me Author of Books to which
I am wholly a Stranger.

I find likewise that your Printer hath been so careless as to confound the
Times, and mistake the Dates of my several Voyages and Returns; neither
assigning the true Year, or the true Month, or Day of the Month: And I
hear the original Manuscript is all destroyed, since the Publication of my
Book. Neither have I any Copy left; however, I have sent you some
Corrections, which you may insert, if ever there should be a second
Edition: And yet I cannot stand to them, but shall leave that Matter to my
judicious and candid Readers, to adjust it as they please.

I hear some of our Sea-Yahoos find Fault with my Sea-Language, as not
proper in many Parts, nor now in use. I cannot help it. In my first
Voyages, while I was young, I was instructed by the oldest Mariners, and
learned to speak as they did. But I have since found that the Sea-Yahoos are
apt, like the Land ones, to become new fangled in their Words, which the
latter change every Year, insomuch as I remember upon each Return to
mine own Country their old Dialect was so altered that I could hardly
understand the new. And I observe, when any Yahoo comes from London
out of Curiosity visit me at mine own House, we neither of us are able to
deliver our Conceptions in a Manner intelligible to the other.

If the Censure of Yahoos could any Way affect me, I should have great
Reason to complain that some of them are so bold as to think my Book of
Travels a mere Fiction out of mine own brain; and have gone so far as to
drop Hints, that the Houyhnhnms and Yahoos have no more Existence than
the Inhabitants of Utopia.

Indeed I must confess, that as to the People of Lilliput, Brobdingrag (for so
the Word should have been spelt, and not erroneously Brobdingnag), and
Laputa; I have never yet heard of any Yahoo so presumptuous as to dispute
their being, or the Facts I have related concerning them; because the Truth
immediately strikes every Reader with Conviction. And is there less
Probability in my Account of the Houyhnhnms or Yahoos, when it is
manifest as to the latter, there are so many Thousands even in this City,
who only differ from their Brother Brutes in Houyhnhnmland, because
they use a Sort of a Jabber, and do not go naked? I wrote for their
Amendment, and not their Approbation. The united Praise of the whole
Race would be of less Consequence to me than the neighing of those two
degenerate Houyhnhnms I keep in my stable; because from these,
degenerate as they are, I still improve in some Virtues, without any
Mixture of Vice.

Do these miserable Animals presume to think that I am so far degenerated
as to defend my veracity? Yahoo as I am, it is well known through all
Houyhnhnmland, that by the Instructions and Example of my illustrious
Master I was able in the Compass of two Years (although I confess with the
utmost Difficulty) to remove that infernal Habit of Lying, Shuffling,
Deceiving, and Equivocating, so deeply rooted in the very Souls of all my
Species, especially the Europeans.

I have other Complaints to make upon this vexatious Occasion; but I
forbear troubling myself or you any further. I must freely confess, that
since my last Return, some Corruptions of my Yahoo Nature have revived
in me by conversing with a few of your Species, and particularly those of
mine own Family, by an unavoidable Necessity; else I should never have
attempted so absurd a Project as that of reforming the Yahoo Race in this
Kingdom; but I have now done with all visionary Schemes for ever.

April 2, 1727.

THE PUBLISHER TO THE READER

THE AUTHOR of these Travels, Mr. Lemuel Gulliver, is my antient and
intimate Friend; there is likewise some Relation between us by the Mother's
Side. About three Years ago Mr. Gulliver, growing weary of the
Concourse of curious People coming to him at his House in Redriff, made a
small purchase of land, with a convenient house, near Newark in
Nottinghamshire, his native Country; where he now lives retired, yet in
good Esteem among his Neighbors.

Although Mr. Gulliver was born in Nottinghamshire, where his Father
dwelt, yet I have heard him say his Family came from Oxfordshire; to
confirm which, I have observed in the Church-Yard at Banbury, in that
County, several Tombs and Monuments of the Gullivers.

Before he quitted Redriff, he left the Custody of the following Papers in
my Hands, with the Liberty to dispose of them as I should think fit. I have
carefully perused them three Times. The style is very plain and simple; and
the only Fault I find is, that the Author, after the Manner of Travelers, is a
little too circumstantial. There is an Air of Truth apparent through the
whole; and indeed the Author was so distinguished for his Veracity, that it
became a Sort of Proverb among his Neighbors at Redriff, when any one
affirmed a Thing, to say it was as true as if Mr. Gulliver had spoke it.

By the Advice of several worthy Persons, to whom, with the Author's
Permission, I communicated these Papers, I now venture to send them into
the World, hoping they may be at least, for some time, a better
Entertainment to our young Noblemen than the common Scribbles of
Politicks and Party.

This Volume would have been at least twice as large, if I had not made
bold to strike out innumerable Passages relating to the Winds and Tides, as
well as to the Variations and Bearings in the several Voyages; together with
the minute Descriptions of the Management of the Ship in Storms, in the
Style of Sailors. Likewise the Account of the Longitudes and Latitudes;
wherein I have Reason to apprehend that Mr. Gulliver may be a little
dissatisfied. But I was resolved to fit the Work as much as possible to the
general Capacity of Readers. However, if my own Ignorance in Sea-Affairs
shall have led me to commit some Mistakes, I alone am answerable for
them. And if any Traveller hath a Curiosity to see the whole Work at
large, as it came from the Hand of the Author, I shall be ready to gratify
him.

As for any further Particulars relating to the Author, the Reader will
receive Satisfaction from the first Pages of the Book.

Richard Sympson.

PART I: A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT

[Plate 1: Lilliput]

CHAPTER I.

The Author gives some Account of himself and Family: His first
Inducements to travel. He is shipwreck'd, and swims for his Life: Gets
safe on shoar in the Country of Lilliput: Is made a Prisoner, and carry'd
up the Country.

MY FATHER had a small Estate in Nottinghamshire; I was the Third of
five Sons. He sent me to Emanuel-College in Cambridge, at Fourteen Years
old, where I resided three Years, and applyed my self close to my Studies:
But the Charge of maintaining me (although I had a very scanty
Allowance) being too great for a narrow Fortune; I was bound Apprentice
to Mr. James Bates, an eminent Surgeon in London, with whom I continued
four Years; and my Father now and then sending me small Sums of Money,
I laid them out in learning Navigation, and other parts of the
Mathematicks, useful to those who intend to travel, as I always believed it
would be some time or other my Fortune to do. When I left Mr. Bates, I
went down to my Father; where, by the Assistance of him and my Uncle
John, and some other Relations, I got Forty Pounds, and a Promise of
Thirty Pounds a Year to maintain me at Leyden: There I studied Physick
two Years and seven Months, knowing it would be useful in long Voyages.

Soon after my Return from Leyden, I was recommended, by my good
Master Mr. Bates, to be Surgeon to the Swallow, Captain Abraham Pannell
Commander; with whom I continued three Years and a half, making a
Voyage or two into the Levant, and some other Parts. When I came back, I
resolved to settle in London, to which Mr. Bates, my Master, encouraged
me, and by him I was recommended to several Patients. I took Part of a
small House in the Old Jury; and being advised to alter my Condition, I
married Mrs. Mary Burton, second Daughter to Mr. Edmund Burton,
Hosier, in Newgate-street, with whom I received four Hundred Pounds for
a Portion.

But, my good Master Bates dying in two Years after, and I having few
Friends, my Business began to fail; for my Conscience would not suffer me
to imitate the bad Practice of too many among my Brethren. Having
therefore consulted with my Wife, and some of my Acquaintance, I
determined to go again to Sea. I was Surgeon successively in two Ships, and
made several Voyages, for six Years, to the East and West-Indies, by which
I got some Addition to my Fortune. My Hours of Leisure I spent in reading
the best Authors, antient and modern, being always provided with a good
Number of Books ; and when I was ashore, in observing the Manners and
Dispositions of the People, well as learning their Language, wherein I had
a great Facility by the Strength of my Memory.

The last of these Voyages not proving very fortunate, I grew weary of the
Sea, and intended to stay at home with my Wife and Family. I removed
from the Old Jury to Fetter-Lane, and from thence to Wapping hoping to
get business among the sailors; but it would not turn to account. After three
Years Expectation that things would mend, I accepted an advantageous
Offer from Captain William Prichard, Master of the Antelope, who was
making a Voyage to the South-Sea. We set sail from Bristol May 4th, 1699
and our Voyage at first was very prosperous.

It would not be proper, for some Reasons, to trouble the Reader with the
Particulars of our Adventures in those Seas: Let it suffice to inform him,
that in our Passage from thence to the East-Indies, we were driven by a
violent Storm to the North-west of Van Diemen's Land. By an
Observation, we found ourselves in the Latitude of 30 Degrees 2 Minutes
South. Twelve of our Crew were dead by immoderate Labour and ill Food,
the rest were in a very weak Condition. On the fifth of November, which
was the beginning of Summer in those Parts, the Weather being very hazy,
the Seamen spied a Rock, within half a Cable's length of the Ship; but the
Wind was so strong, that we were driven directly upon it, and immediately
split. Six of the Crew, of whom I was one, having let down the Boat into
the Sea, made a Shift to get clear of the Ship, and the Rock. We rowed by
my Computation about three Leagues, till we were able to work no longer,
being already spent with Labour while we were in the Ship. We therefore
trusted ourselves to the Mercy of the Waves, and in about half an Hour the
Boat was overset by a sudden Flurry from the North. What became of my
Companions in the Boat, as well as of those who escaped on the Rock, or
were left in the Vessel, I cannot tell; but conclude they were all lost. For
my own Part, I swam as Fortune directed me, and was pushed forward by
Wind and Tide. I often let my Legs drop, and could feel no Bottom: but
when I was almost gone, and able to struggle no longer, I found myself
within my Depth; and by this Time the Storm was much abated. The
Declivity was so small, that I walked near a Mile before I got to the Shore,
which I conjectur'd was about eight a-clock in the Evening. I then advanced
forward near half a Mile, but could not discover any sign of Houses or
Inhabitants; at least I was in so weak a Condition, that I did not observe
them. I was extremely tired, and with that, and the Heat of the Weather,
and about half a Pint of Brandy that I drank as I left the Ship, I found
myself much inclined to sleep. I lay down on the Grass, which was very
short and soft, where I slept sounder than ever I remember to have done in
my Life, and, as I reckoned, above Nine Hours; for when I awakened, it
was just Day-light. I attempted to rise, but was not able to stir: For as I
happen'd to lye on my Back, I found my Arms and Legs were strongly
fastened on each Side to the Ground; and my Hair, which was long and
thick, tied down in the same Manner. I likewise felt several slender
Ligatures across my Body, from my Armpits to my Thighs. I could only
look upwards; the Sun began to grow hot, and the Light offended my Eyes.
I heard a confused Noise about me, but in the Posture I lay, could see
nothing except the Sky. In a little time I felt something alive moving on my
left Leg, which advancing gently forward over my Breast, came almost up
to my Chin; when bending my Eyes downwards as much as I could, I
perceived it to be a human Creature not six Inches high, with a Bow and
Arrow in his hands, and a Quiver at his Back. In the meantime, I felt at
least Forty more of the same Kind (as I conjectured) following the first. I
was in the utmost Astonishment, and roared so loud, that they all ran back
in a Fright; and some of them, as I was afterwards told, were hurt with the
Falls they got by leaping from my Sides upon the Ground. However, they
soon returned, and one of them, who ventured so far as to get a full Sight
of my Face, lifting up his Hands and Eyes by way of Admiration, cried out
in a shrill but distinct Voice, Hekinah Degul: the others repeated the same
Words several times, but I then knew not what they meant. I lay all this
while, as the Reader may believe, in great Uneasiness; At length, struggling
to get loose, I had the Fortune to break the Strings, and wrench out the
Pegs that fastened my left Arm to the Ground; for, by lifting it up to my
Face, I discovered the Methods they had taken to bind me, and at the same
time, with a violent Pull, which gave me excessive Pain, I a little loosened
the Strings that tied down my Hair on the left Side, so that I was just able to
turn my Head about two Inches. But the creatures ran off a second time,
before I could seize them; Whereupon there was a great Shout in a very
shrill Accent, and after it ceased, I heard one of them cry aloud, Tolgo
Phonac; when in an Instant I felt above a Hundred Arrows discharged on
my left Hand, which pricked me like so many Needles; and besides they
shot another Flight into the Air, as we do Bombs in Europe, whereof
many, I suppose, fell on my Body (though I felt them not) and some on my
Face, which I immediately covered with my left Hand. When this Shower
of Arrows was over, I fell a groaning with Grief and Pain, and then
striving again to get loose, they discharged another Volly larger than the
first, and some of them attempted with Spears to stick me in the Sides; but,
by good Luck, I had on me a Buff Jerkin, which they could not pierce. I
thought it the most prudent Method to lie still, and my Design was to
continue so till Night, when, my left Hand being already loose, I could
easily free myself: And as for the Inhabitants, I had Reason to believe I
might be a Match for the greatest Armies they could bring against me, if
they were all of the same Size with him that I saw. But Fortune disposed
otherwise of me. When the People observed I was quiet, they discharged no
more Arrows: But, by the Noise increasing, I knew their Numbers were
greater; and about four Yards from me, over against my right Ear, I heard
a Knocking for above an Hour, like People at work; when turning my Head
that Way, as well as the Pegs and Strings would permit me, I saw a Stage
erected about a Foot and a half from the Ground, capable of holding four
of the Inhabitants, with two or three Ladders to mount it: From whence
one of them, who seemed to be a Person of Quality, made me a long
Speech, whereof I understood not one Syllable. But I should have
mentioned, that before the principal Person began his Oration, he cryed out
three times, Langro Dehul san: (these Words and the former were
afterwards repeated and explained to me). Whereupon immediately about
fifty of the Inhabitants came, and cut the Strings that fastened the left side
of my Head, which gave me the Liberty of turning it to the right, and of
observing the Person and Gesture of him that was to speak. He appeared to
be of a middle age, and taller than any of the other three who attended him,
whereof one was a Page that held up his Train, and seemed to be somewhat
longer than my middle Finger; the other two stood one on each side to
support him. He acted every part of an Orator, and I could observe many
periods of Threatnings, and others of Promises, Pity and Kindness. I
answered in a few Words, but in the most submissive Manner, lifting up
my left Hand and both my eyes to the Sun, as calling him for a Witness;
and being almost famished with Hunger, having not eaten a Morsel for
some Hours before I left the Ship, I found the Demands of Nature so strong
upon me, that I could not forbear showing my Impatience (perhaps against
the strict Rules of Decency) by putting my Finger frequently on my Mouth,
to signify that I wanted Food. The Hurgo (for so they call a great Lord, as
I afterwards learned) understood me very well: He descended from the
Stage, and commanded that several Ladders should be applied to my Sides,
on which above a Hundred of the Inhabitants mounted, and walked towards
my Mouth, laden with Baskets full of Meat, which had been provided, and
sent thither by the King's Orders, upon the first Intelligence he received of
me. I observed there was the Flesh of several Animals, but could not
distinguish them by the Taste. There were Shoulders, Legs, and Loins,
shaped like those of Mutton, and very well dressed, but smaller than the
Wings of a Lark. I eat them by two or three at a Mouthful, and took three
Loaves at a time, about the bigness of Musket Bullets. They supplied me as
fast as they could, shewing a thousand Marks of Wonder and Astonishment
at my Bulk and Appetite. I then made another Sign that I wanted Drink.
They found by my eating that a small Quantity would not suffice me, and
being a most ingenious People, they slung up with great Dexterity one of
their largest Hogsheads, then rolled it toward my Hand, and beat out the
Top; I drank it off at a Draught, which I might well do, for it hardly held
half a Pint, and tasted like a small Wine of Burgundy, but much more
delicious. They brought me a second Hogshead, which I drank in the same
Manner, and made Signs for more, but they had none to give me. When I
had performed these Wonders, they shouted for Joy, and danced upon my
Breast, repeating several times as they did at first, Hekinah Degul. They
made me a Sign that I should throw down the two Hogsheads, but first
warning the People below to stand out of the Way, crying aloud, Borach
Mivola, and when they saw the Vessels in the Air, there was a universal
Shout of Hekinah Degul. I confess I was often tempted, while they were
passing backwards and forwards on my Body, to seize Forty or Fifty of the
first that came in my Reach, and dash them against the Ground. But the
Remembrance of what I had felt, which probably might not be the worst
they could do; and the Promise of Honour I made them, for so I
interpreted my submissive Behaviour, soon drove out these Imaginations.
Besides, I now considered myself as bound by the Laws of Hospitality to a
People who had treated me with so much Expense and Magnificence.
However, in my Thoughts I could not sufficiently wonder at the Intrepidity
of these diminutive Mortals, who dare venture to mount and walk upon my
Body, while one of my Hands was at Liberty, without trembling at the very
Sight of so prodigious a Creature as I must appear to them. After some
time, when they observed that I made no more Demands for Meat, there
appeared before me a Person of high Rank from his Imperial Majesty. His
Excellency having mounted on the small of my right Leg, advanced
forwards up to my Face, with about a Dozen of his Retinue; And producing
his Credentials under the Signet Royal, which he applied close to my Eyes,
spoke about ten Minutes, without any Signs of Anger, but with a kind of
determinate Resolution; often pointing forwards, which, as I afterwards
found, was towards the Capital City, about half a Mile distant, whither it
was agreed by his Majesty in Council that I must be conveyed. I answered
in few Words, but to no Purpose, and made a Sign with my Hand that was
loose, putting it to the other (but over his Excellency's Head, for fear of
hurting him or his Train) and then to my own Head and Body, to signify
that I desired my Liberty. It appeared that he understood me well enough,
for he shook his Head by way of Disapprobation , and held his Hand in a
Posture to show that I must be carried as a Prisoner. However, he made
other Signs to let me understand that I should have Meat and Drink enough,
and very good Treatment. Whereupon I once more thought of attempting
to break my Bonds, but again, when I felt the Smart of their Arrows upon
my Face and Hands, which were all in Blisters, and many of the Darts still
sticking in them, and observing likewise that the Number of my Enemies
encreased, I gave Tokens to let them know that they might do with me what
they pleased. Upon this the Hurgo and his Train withdrew with much
Civility and chearful Countenances. Soon after I heard a general Shout,
with frequent repetitions of the words, Peplom Selan, and I felt great
Numbers of the People on my Left Side relaxing the Cords to such a
Degree, that I was able to turn upon my Right, and to ease myself with
making Water; which I very plentifully did, to the great Astonishment of
the People, who conjecturing by my Motions what I was going to do,
immediately opened to the right and left on that Side, to avoid the Torrent
which fell with such Noise and Violence from me. But before this, they had
daubed my Face and both my Hands with a sort of Ointment very pleasant
to the Smell, which in a few Minutes removed all the Smart of their
Arrows. These Circumstances, added to the Refreshment I had received by
their Victuals and Drink, which were very nourishing , disposed me to
sleep. I slept about eight Hours, as I was afterwards assured; and it was no
Wonder, for the Physicians, by the Emperor's Order, had mingled a
sleeping Potion in the Hogsheads of Wine.

It seems that upon the first Moment I was discovered sleeping on the
Ground after my Landing, the Emperor had early Notice of it by an
Express, and determined in Council that I should be tyed in the Manner I
have related (which was done in the Night while I slept), that plenty of
Meat and Drink should be sent me, and a Machine prepared to carry me to
the Capital City.

This Resolution perhaps may appear very bold and dangerous, and I am
confident would not be imitated by any Prince in Europe on the like
Occasion; however, in my Opinion, it was extremely Prudent, as well as
Generous. For supposing these People had endeavored to kill me with their
Spears and Arrows while I was asleep, I should certainly have awakened
with the first Sense of Smart, which might so far have roused my Rage and
Strength, as to have enabled me to break the Strings wherewith I was tyed;
after which, as they were not able to make Resistance, so they could expect
no Mercy.

These People are most excellent Mathematicians, and arrived to great
perfection in Mechanicks by the Countenance and Encouragement of the
Emperor, who is a renowned Patron of Learning. This Prince has several
Machines fixed on Wheels for the Carriage of Trees and other great
Weights. He often builds his largest Men of War, whereof some are Nine
Foot long, in the Woods where the Timber grows, and has them carried on
these Engines three or four Hundred Yards to the sea. Five Hundred
Carpenters and Engineers were immediately set at work to prepare the
greatest Engine they had. It was a Frame of Wood raised three Inches from
the Ground, about seven Foot long and four wide, moving upon twenty-
two Wheels. The Shout I heard was upon the Arrival of this Engine, which
it seems set out in four Hours after my Landing. It was brought parallel to
me as I lay. But the principal Difficulty was to raise and place me in this
Vehicle. Eighty Poles, each of one Foot high, were erected for this
Purpose, and very strong Cords of the bigness of Pack thread were
fastened by Hooks to many Bandages, which the Workmen had girt round
my Neck, my Hands, my Body, and my Legs. Nine Hundred of the
strongest Men were employed to draw up these Cords by many Pulleys
fastned on the Poles, and thus, in less than three Hours, I was raised and
slung into the Engine, and there tyed fast. All this I was told, for while the
whole Operation was performing, I lay in a profound Sleep, by the Force
of that soporiferous Medicine infused into my Liquor. Fifteen Hundred of
the Emperor's largest Horses, each about four Inches and a half high, were
employed to draw me towards the Metropolis, which, as I said, was half a
Mile distant.

About four Hours after we began our Journey, I awaked by a very
ridiculous Accident; for the Carriage being stopt a while to adjust
something that was out of Order, two or three of the young Natives had the
Curiosity to see how I looked when I was asleep; they climbed up into the
Engine, and advancing very softly to my Face, one of them, an Officer in
the Guards, put the sharp End of his Half-Pike a good way up into my left
Nostril, which tickled my Nose like a Straw, and made me sneeze violently:
Whereupon they stole off unperceived, and it was three Weeks before I
knew the Cause of my awaking so suddenly. We made a long March the
remaining Part of that Day, and rested at Night with Five Hundred Guards
on each Side of me, half with Torches, and half with Bows and Arrows,
ready to shoot me if I should offer to stir. The next Morning at Sunrise we
continued our March, and arrived within two Hundred Yards of the City-
Gates about Noon. The Emperor, and all his Court, came out to meet us;
but his great Officers would by no means suffer his Majesty to endanger
his Person by mounting on my Body.

At the Place where the Carriage stopt, there stood an antient Temple,
esteemed to be the largest in the whole Kingdom, which having been
polluted some Years before by an unnatural Murder, was, according to the
Zeal of those People, looked on as prophane, and therefore had been
applied to common Use, and all the Ornaments and Furniture carried away.
In this Edifice it was determined I should lodge. The great Gate fronting to
the North was about four feet high, and almost two feet wide, through
which I could easily creep. On each Side of the Gate was a small Window
not above six Inches from the Ground: Into that on the Left Side, the
King's Smiths conveyed fourscore and eleven Chains, like those that hang
to a Lady's Watch in Europe, and almost as large, which were locked to
my Left Leg with six and thirty Padlocks. Over against this Temple, on the
other Side of the great highway, at twenty Foot Distance, there was a
Turret at least Five Foot high. Here the Emperor ascended with many
principal Lords of his Court, to have an opportunity of viewing me, as I
was told, for I could not see them. It was reckoned that above a hundred
thousand Inhabitants came out of the Town upon the same Errand; and in
spite of my Guards, I believe there could not be fewer than ten thousand, at
several Times, who mounted upon my Body by the Help of Ladders. But a
Proclamation was soon issued to forbid it upon Pain of Death. When the
Workmen found it was impossible for me to break loose, they cut all the
Strings that bound me; whereupon I rose up with as melancholy a
Disposition as ever I had in my Life. But the Noise and Astonishment of
the People at seeing me rise and walk, are not to be expressed. The Chains
that held my left Leg were about two Yards long, and gave me not only the
Liberty of walking backwards and forwards in a Semicircle; but, being
fixed within four Inches of the Gate, allowed me to creep in, and lie at my
full Length in the Temple.

CHAPTER II.

The Emperor of Lilliput, attended by several of the Nobility, comes to see
the Author in his Confinement. The Emperor's Person and Habit describ'd.
Learned Men appointed to teach the Author their Language. He gains
Favour by his mild Disposition. His Pockets Are searched, and his Sword
and Pistols taken from him.

WHEN I found myself on my Feet, I looked about me, and must confess I
never beheld a more entertaining Prospect. The Country round appeared
like a continued Garden, and the inclosed Fields, which were generally
Forty Foot square, resembled so many Beds of Flowers. These Fields were
intermingled with Woods of half a Stang, and the tallest Trees, as I could
judge, appeared to be seven Foot high. I viewed the Town on my left Hand,
which looked like the painted Scene of a City in a Theatre.

I had been for some Hours extremely pressed by the Necessities of Nature;
which was no Wonder, it being almost two Days since I had last
disburthened myself. I was under great Difficulties between Urgency and
Shame. The best Expedient I could think on, was to creep into my House,
which I accordingly did; and shutting the Gate after me, I went as far as the
Length of my Chain would suffer, and discharged my Body of that uneasy
Load. But this was the only Time I was ever guilty of so uncleanly an
Action; for which I cannot but hope the candid Reader will give some
Allowance, after he has maturely and impartially considered my Case, and
the Distress I was in. From this Time my constant Practice was, as soon as
I rose, to perform that Business in open Air, at the full Extent of my
Chain, and due Care was taken every Morning before Company came, that
the offensive Matter should be carried off in Wheel-barrows, by two
Servants appointed for that Purpose. I would not have dwelt so long upon a
Circumstance, that perhaps at first sight may appear not very momentous,
if I had not thought it necessary to justify my Character in point of
Cleanliness to the world; which I am told some of my Maligners have been
pleased, upon this and other Occasions, to call in question.

When this Adventure was at an end, I came back out of my House, having
occasion for fresh Air. The Emperor was already descended from the
Tower, and advancing on Horse-back towards me, which had like to have
cost him dear; for the Beast, though very well trained, yet wholly unused
to such a Sight, which appeared as if a Mountain moved before him, he
reared up on his hinder Feet: But that Prince, who is an excellent Horse-
man, kept his Seat, till his Attendants ran in, and held the Bridle, while his
Majesty had time to dismount. When he alighted, he surveyed me round
with great Admiration, but kept without the length of my Chain. He
ordered his Cooks and Butlers, who were already prepared, to give me
Victuals and Drink, which they pushed forward in a sort of Vehicles upon
Wheels till I could reach them. I took these Vehicles, and soon emptied
them all; twenty of them were filled with Meat, and ten with Liquor; each
of the former afforded me two or three good Mouthfuls, and I emptied the
Liquor of ten Vessels, which was contained in earthen Vials, into one
Vehicle, drinking it off at a Draught; and so I did with the rest. The
Empress, and young Princes of the Blood, of both Sexes, attended by many
Ladies, sat at some distance in their Chairs; but upon the Accident that
happened to the Emperor's Horse, they alighted, and came near his Person,
which I am now going to describe. He is taller by almost the breadth of my
Nail, than any of his Court, which alone is enough to strike an Awe into the
Beholders. His Features are strong and masculine, with an Austrian lip and
arched Nose, his Complexion olive, his Countenance erect, his Body and
Limbs well proportioned, all his motions graceful, and his Deportment
majestic. He was then past his Prime, being twenty-eight Years and three
Quarters old, of which he had reigned about seven, in great Felicity, and
generally victorious. For the better convenience of beholding him, I lay on
my Side, so that my Face was parallel to his, and he stood but three Yards
off: However, I have had him since many Times in my Hand, and therefore
cannot be deceived in the Description. His Dress was very plain and simple,
and the Fashion of it between the Asiatick and the European; but he had on
his Head a light Helmet of Gold, adorned with Jewels, and a Plume on the
Crest. He held his Sword drawn in his Hand, to defend himself, if I should
happen to break loose; it was almost three Inches long, the Hilt and
Scabbard were Gold, enriched with Diamonds. His Voice was shrill, but
very clear and articulate, and I could distinctly hear it when I stood up.
The Ladies and Courtiers were all most magnificently clad, so that the Spot
they stood upon seemed to resemble a Petticoat spread on the Ground,
embroidered with Figures of Gold and Silver. His Imperial Majesty spoke
often to me, and I returned Answers, but neither of us could understand a
Syllable. There were several of his Priests and Lawyers present (as I
conjectured by their Habits) who were commanded to address themselves to
me, and I spoke to them in as many Languages as I had the least smattering
of, which were High and Low Dutch, Latin, French, Spanish, Italian, and
Lingua Franca ; but all to no Purpose. After about two Hours the Court
retired, and I was left with a strong Guard, to prevent the Impertinence,
and probably the Malice of the Rabble, who were very impatient to croud
about me as near as they durst, and some of them had the impudence to
shoot their Arrows at me as I sate on the Ground by the Door of my
House, whereof one very narrowly missed my left Eye. But the Colonel
ordered six of the Ringleaders to be seized, and thought no Punishment so
proper as to deliver them bound into my Hands, which some of his Soldiers
accordingly did, pushing them forwards with the But-Ends of their Pikes
into my Reach; I took them all in my right Hand, put five of them into my
Coat-Pocket, and as to the sixth, I made a Countenance as if I would eat
him alive. The poor Man squalled terribly, and the Colonel and his
Officers were in much Pain, especially when they saw me take out my
Penknife: But I soon put them out of fear; for, looking mildly and
immediately cutting the Strings he was bound with, I set him gently on the
Ground, and away he ran; I treated the rest in the same manner, taking
them one by one out of my Pocket, and I observed both the Soldiers and
People were highly obliged at this Mark of my Clemency, which was
represented very much to my Advantage at Court.

Towards Night I with some Difficulty got into my House, where I lay on
the Ground, and continued to do so about a Fortnight; during which Time
the Emperor gave Orders to have a Bed prepared for me. Six hundred
Beds of the common Measure were brought in Carriages, and worked up in
my House; a hundred and fifty of their Beds sewn together made up the
Breadth and Length, and these were four double, which however kept me
but very indifferently from the Hardness of the Floor, that was of smooth
Stone. By the same Computation they provided me with Sheets, Blankets,
and Coverlets, tolerable enough for one who had been so long enured to
Hardships as I.

As the News of my Arrival spread through the Kingdom, it brought
prodigious Numbers of rich, idle, and curious People to see me; so that the
Villages were almost emptied, and great Neglect of Tillage and Household
Affairs must have ensued, if his Imperial Majesty had not provided, by
several Proclamations and Orders of State, against this Inconveniency. He
directed that those who had already beheld me should return Home, and not
presume to come within fifty Yards of my House without Licence from
Court; whereby the Secretarys of State got considerable Fees.

In the mean time, the Emperor held frequent Councils to debate what
Course should be taken with me; and I was afterwards assured by a
particular Friend, a Person of great Quality, who was looked upon to be as
much in the Secret as any, that the Court was under many Difficulties
concerning me. They apprehended my breaking loose, that my Diet would
be very expensive, and might cause a Famine. Sometimes they determined
to starve me, or at least to shoot me in the Face and Hands with poisoned
Arrows, which would soon dispatch me: But again they considered, that the
Stench of so large a Carcass might produce a Plague in the Metropolis, and
probably spread through the whole Kingdom. In the midst of these
Consultations, several Officers of the army went to the Door of the great
Council Chamber; and two of them being admitted, gave an account of my
Behavior to the six Criminals above-mentioned, which made so favorable
an Impression in the Breast of his Majesty and the whole Board in my
behalf, that an Imperial Commission was issued out, obliging all the
Villages nine hundred Yards round the City, to deliver in every Morning
six Beeves, forty Sheep, and other Victuals for my Sustenance; together
with a proportionable Quantity of Bread, and Wine, and other Liquors: for
the due Payment of which, his Majesty gave assignments upon his
Treasury. For this Prince lives chiefly upon his own Demesnes, seldom,
except upon great Occasions, raising any Subsidies upon his Subjects, who
are bound to attend him in his Wars at their own Expense. An
Establishment was also made of six hundred Persons to be my Domesticks,
who had Board-Wages allowed for their Maintenance, and Tents built for
them very conveniently on each side of my Door. It was likewise ordered,
that three hundred Taylors should make me a Suit of Cloaths after the
Fashion of the Country: That six of his Majesty's greatest Scholars should
be employ'd to instruct me in their Language: And, lastly, that the
Emperor's Horses, and those of the Nobility, and Troops of Guards, should
be frequently exercised in my sight, to accustom themselves to me. All
these Orders were duly put in Execution, and in about three Weeks I made
a great progress in learning their Language; during which time, the
Emperor frequently honored me with his Visits, and was pleased to assist
my Masters in teaching me. We began already to converse together in some
sort; and the first Words I learnt were to express my Desire that he would
please give me my Liberty, which I every day repeated on my Knees. His
Answer, as I could apprehend it, was, that this must be a Work of Time,
not to be thought on without the Advice of Council, and that first I must
Lumos Kelmin pesso desmar lon Emposo; that is, swear a Peace with him
and his Kingdom. However, that I should be used with all Kindness; and he
advised me to acquire, by my Patience and discreet Behaviour, the good
Opinion of himself and his Subjects. He desired I would not take it ill, if he
gave Orders to certain proper Officers to search me; for probably I might
carry about me several Weapons, which must needs be dangerous things, if
they answered the Bulk of so prodigious a Person. I said, his Majesty
should be satisfied, for I was ready to strip myself, and turn out my
Pockets before him. This I delivered part in Words, and part in Signs. He
replied, that by the Laws of the Kingdom I must be searched by two of his
Officers; that he knew this could not be done without my Consent and
Assistance; that he had so good an Opinion of my Generosity and Justice, as
to trust their Persons in my Hands: That whatever they took from me
should be returned when I left the Country, or paid for at the Rate which I
would set upon them. I took up the two Officers in my Hands, put them
first into my Coat-Pockets, and then into every other Pocket about me,
except my two Fobs, and another secret Pocket I had no mind should be
searched, wherein I had some little Necessaries that were of no
consequence to any but myself. In one of my Fobs there was a silver
Watch, and in the other a small Quantity of Gold in a Purse. These
Gentlemen, having Pen Ink, and Paper about them, made an exact
Inventory of everything they saw; and when they had done, desired I would
set them down, that they might deliver it to the Emperor. This Inventory I
afterwards translated into English, and is word for word as follows.

IMPRIMIS, In the right coat Pocket of the Great Man Mountain (for
so I interpret the Words quinbus Flestrin) after the strictest
search, we found only one great Piece of coarse Cloath, large
enough to be a Foot-Cloth for your Majesty's chief Room of State.
In the left Pocket we saw a huge Silver Chest, with a Cover of the
same Metal, which we the Searchers were not able to lift. We
desired it should be opened, and one of us stepping into it, found
himself up to the mid Leg in a sort of Dust, some part whereof
flying up to our Faces, set us both sneezing for several times
together. In his right Waistcoat-Pocket we found a prodigious
Bundle of white thin Substances, folded one over another, about
the Bigness of three Men, tied with a strong cable, and marked
with black Figures; which we humbly conceive to be Writings, every
Letter almost half as large as the Palm of our Hands. In the left
there was a sort of Engine, from the back of which were extended
twenty long poles, resembling the palisades before your Majesty's
Court; wherewith we conjecture the Man Mountain combs his Head,
for we did not always trouble him with Questions, because we found
it a great Difficulty to make him understand us. In the large
Pocket on the right side of his middle Cover (so I translate the
Word Ranfu-Lo, by which they meant my Breeches) we saw a hollow
Pillar of Iron, about the length of a Man, fastened to a strong
piece of Timber, larger than the Pillar; and upon one side of the
Pillar were huge Pieces of Iron sticking out, cut into strange
Figures, which we know not what to make of. In the left Pocket,
another Engine of the same kind. In the smaller Pocket on the
right side, were several round flat Pieces of white and red Metal,
of different Bulk; some of the white, which seemed to be silver,
were so large and heavy, that my Comrade and I could hardly lift
them. In the left Pocket were two black Pillars irregularly
shaped: we could not, without Difficulty, reach the Top of them as
we stood at the Bottom of his Pocket. One of them was covered, and
seemed all of a Piece: but at the upper End of the other, there
appeared a white round Substance, about twice the bigness of our
heads. Within each of these was inclosed a prodigious Plate of
Steel; which, by our Orders, we obliged him to shew us, because we
apprehended they might be dangerous Engines. He took them out of
their Cases, and told us, that in his own Country his Practice was
to shave his Beard with one of these, and to cut his Meat with the
other. There were two Pockets which we could not enter: These he
called his Fobs; they were two large Slits cut into the top of his
middle Cover, but squeez'd close by the pressure of his Belly. Out
of the right Fob hung a great silver Chain, with a wonderful kind
of Engine at the bottom. We directed him to draw out whatever was
fastened to that Chain; which appeared to be a Globe, half Silver,
and half of some transparent Metal: for on the transparent side we
saw certain strange Figures circularly drawn, and thought we could
touch them, till we found our Fingers stopped by that lucid
Substance. He put this Engine to our Ears, which made an incessant
Noise like that of a Water-Mill. And we conjecture it is either
some unknown Animal, or the God that he worships: But we are more
inclined to the latter Opinion, because he assured us (if we
understood him right, for he expressed himself very imperfectly)
that he seldom did anything without consulting it: he called it
his Oracle, and said it pointed out the Time for every Action of
his Life. From the left Fob he took out a Net almost large enough
for a Fisherman, but contrived to open and shut like a Purse, and
serve him for the same use: we found therein several massy Pieces
of yellow Metal, which, if they be real Gold, must be of immense
Value.

Having thus, in obedience to your Majesty's Commands, diligently
searched all his Pockets, we observed a Girdle about his Waist
made of the Hide of some prodigious Animal; from which, on the
left side, hung a Sword of the length of five Men; and on the
right, a Bag or Pouch divided into two Cells, each Cell capable of
holding three of your Majesty's Subjects. In one of these Cells
were several Globes or Balls of a most ponderous Metal, about the
bigness of our Heads, and requiring a strong Hand to lift them:
the other Cell contained a Heap of certain black Grains, but of no
great Bulk or Weight, for we could hold above fifty of them in the
Palms of our Hands.

This is an exact Inventory of what we found about the Body of the
Man-Mountain, who used us with great Civility, and due Respect to
your Majesty's Commission.

Signed and Sealed on the fourth Day of the eighty ninth Moon of
your Majesty's auspicious Reign.

Clefren Frelock, Marsi Frelock.

When this Inventory was read over to the Emperor, he directed me,
although in very gentle Terms, to deliver up the several Particulars. He
first called for my Scymiter, which I took out, Scabbard and all. In the
meantime he ordered three thousand of his choicest Troops (who then
attended him) to surround me at a distance, with their Bows and Arrows
just ready to discharge: but I did not observe it, for mine Eyes were wholly
fixed upon his Majesty. He then desired me to draw my Scymiter, which,
although it had got some Rust by the Sea-Water, was in most parts
exceeding bright. I did so, and immediately all the Troops gave a Shout
between Terror and Surprise; for the Sun shone clear, and the Reflection
dazzled their Eyes as I waved the Scymiter to and fro in my Hand. His
Majesty, who is a most magnanimous Prince, was less danted than I could
expect; he ordered me to return it into the Scabbard, and cast it on the
Ground as gently as I could, about six Foot from the end of my Chain. The
next thing he demanded was one of the hollow iron pillars, by which he
meant my Pocket-Pistols. I drew it out, and at his desire, as well as I could,
expressed to him the Use of it; and charging it only with Powder, which by
the closeness of my Pouch happened to escape wetting in the Sea (an
Inconvenience against which all prudent mariners take special Care to
provide) I first cautioned the Emperor not to be afraid, and then I let it off
in the Air. The Astonishment here was much greater than at the sight of
my Scymiter. Hundreds fell down as if they had been struck dead; and even
the Emperor, although he stood his ground, could not recover himself in
some time. I delivered up both my Pistols in the same Manner as I had
done my Scymiter, and then my Pouch of Powder and Bullets; begging him
that the former might be kept from the Fire, for it would kindle with the
smallest Spark, and blow up his Imperial Palace into the Air. I likewise
delivered up my Watch, which the Emperor was very curious to see, and
commanded two of his tallest Yeomen of the Guards to bear it on a Pole
upon their shoulders, as Draymen in England do a Barrel of Ale. He was
amazed at the continual Noise it made, and the Motion of the Minute-Hand,
which he could easily discern; for their Sight is much more acute than
ours; and asked the Opinions of his learned Men about him, which were
various and remote, as the Reader may well imagine without my repeating;
although indeed I could not very perfectly understand them. I then gave up
my Silver and Copper money, my Purse with nine large Pieces of Gold,
and some smaller ones; my Knife and Razor, my Comb and Silver Snuff-
Box, my Handkerchief and Journal Book. My Scymiter, Pistols, and Pouch,
were conveyed in Carriages to his Majesty's Stores; but the rest of my
Goods were returned me.

I had, as I before observed, one private Pocket which escaped their Search,
wherein there was a pair of Spectacles (which I sometimes use for the
weakness of mine Eyes), a Pocket Perspective, and several other little
Conveniences; which, being of no consequence to the Emperor, I did not
think myself bound in Honour to discover, and I apprehended they might
be lost or spoiled if I ventured them out of my Possession.

CHAPTER III.

The Author diverts the Emperor and his Nobility of both Sexes in a very
uncommon Manner. The Diversions of the Court of Lilliput described. The
Author has his Liberty granted him upon certain Conditions.

MY GENTLENESS and good Behaviour had gained so far on the Emperor
and his Court, and indeed upon the Army and People in general, that I
began to conceive Hopes of getting my Liberty in a short time. I took all
possible Methods to cultivate this favorable Disposition. The Natives came
by degrees to be less apprehensive of any Danger from me. I would
sometimes lie down, and let five or six of them dance on my Hand. And
last the Boys and Girls would venture to come and play at Hide and Seek in
my Hair. I had now made good Progress in understanding and speaking
their Language. The Emperor had a mind one day to entertain me with
several of the Country Shows, wherein they exceeded all Nations I have
known, both for Dexterity and Magnificence. I was diverted with none so
much as that of the Rope-Dancers, performed upon a slender white Thread,
extended about two Foot and twelve Inches from the Ground. Upon which
I shall desire liberty, with the Reader's Patience, to enlarge a little.

This Diversion is only practiced by those Persons who are Candidates for
great Employments, and high Favour, at Court. They are trained in this
Art from their Youth, and are not always of noble Birth, or liberal
Education. When a great Office is vacant either by Death or disgrace
(which often happens) five or six of those Candidates petition the Emperor
to entertain his Majesty and the Court with a Dance on the Rope, and
whoever jumps the highest without falling, succeeds in the Office. Very
often the Chief Ministers themselves are commanded to show their Skill,
and to convince the Emperor that they have not lost their Faculty. Flimnap,
the Treasurer, is allowed to cut a Caper on the strait Rope, at least an Inch
higher than any other Lord in the whole Empire. I have seen him do the
Summerset several times together upon a Trencher fixed on the Rope,
which is no thicker than a common packthread in England. My friend
Reldresal, principal Secretary for private Affairs, is, in my Opinion, if I
am not partial, the second after the Treasurer; the rest of the great Officers
are much upon a par.

These Diversions are often attended with fatal Accidents, whereof great
Numbers are on Record. I my self have seen two or three Candidates break
a Limb. But the Danger is much greater when the Ministers themselves are
commanded to shew their Dexterity; for by contending to excel themselves
and their Fellows, they strain so far, that there is hardly one of them who
has not received a Fall, and some of them two or three. I was assured that a
Year or two before my Arrival, Flimnap would have infallibly broken his
Neck, if one of the King's Cushions, that accidentally lay on the Ground,
had not weakened the Force of his Fall.

There is likewise another Diversion, which is only shewn before the
Emperor and Empress, and first Minister, upon particular Occasions. The
Emperor lays on the Table three fine silken Threads of six Inches long.
One is Blue, the other Red, and the third Green. These Threads are
proposed as Prizes for those Persons whom the Emperor has a mind to
distinguish by a peculiar Mark of his Favor. The Ceremony is performed
in his Majesty's great Chamber of State, where the Candidates are to
undergo a Tryal of Dexterity very different from the former, and such as I
have not observed the least Resemblance of in any other Country of the old
or the new World. The Emperor holds a Stick in his Hands, both ends
parallel to the Horizon, while the Candidates, advancing one by one,
sometimes leap over the Stick, sometimes creep under it backwards and
forwards several times, according as the Stick is advanced or depressed.
Sometimes the Emperor holds one end of the Stick, and his first Minister
the other; sometimes the Minister has it entirely to himself. Whoever
performs his Part with most Agility, and holds out the longest in leaping
and creeping, is rewarded with the Blue-colored Silk; the Red is given to
the next, and the Green to the third, which they all wear girt twice round
about the middle; and you see few great Persons about this Court who are
not adorned with one of these Girdles.

The Horses of the Army, and those of the royal Stables, having been daily
led before me, were no longer shy, but would come up to my very Feet
without starting. The Riders would leap them over my Hand as I held it on
the Ground, and one of the Emperor's Huntsmen, upon a large Courser,
took my Foot, Shoe and all; which was indeed a prodigious Leap. I had the
good fortune to divert the Emperor one Day after a very extraordinary
manner. I desired he would order several Sticks of two Foot high, and the
thickness of an ordinary cane, to be brought me; whereupon his Majesty
commanded the Master of his Woods to give Directions accordingly; and
the next Morning six Wood-men arrived with as many Carriages, drawn by
eight Horses to each. I took nine of thes

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electricblanket [2004-01-05 21:58:29 +0000 UTC]

welcome to deviant art
i really like your photographs and descriptions
out of all of your pieces so far i think i've enjoyed "ornaments in a box" the very most - the title sounds so simple but when you view the actual picture it holds so much more than that
i'm adding you - keep posting more artwork
<3 kristin

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delphian-diatribe [2004-01-04 09:57:01 +0000 UTC]

[link]

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delphian-diatribe [2004-01-04 09:48:09 +0000 UTC]

In essence, "goulet" is simply a summation of art. all that has been, is, and will be. Ebb-flow has done something that the rest of us can only dream of achieving in his 12 years on this earth: a cornucopia of design to be admired for the ages. He is truly a diamond in the rough. I think, "where I grow through the roots" is just one powerful line in a poem which is so intense its understanding roars into the senses like a freight train. A freight train of pretentious crap.

Be sure to check out his gallery of the most god-awful smut ever to circulate the internet, right here on DA.

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blue-arson [2004-01-04 09:29:55 +0000 UTC]

It's unfortunate when a very funny movie is ruined by something else, deterring forces. There may have been two dozen times that I laughed during Bringing Down the House, but I can't say that I felt good about it afterwards. I wondered how Steve Martin and Queen Latifah felt while they were making this movie. It seemed like there were times they were really having a great time making it, and other times it seemed where they had that arbitrary feeling an actor gets when they don't believe in their own movie.

The story is about a busy-busy lawyer and recent divorcee (Martin) who unbeknownst to himself arranges an Internet date with a recent prison escapee (our homegirl Latifah). Before you know it, she's taking over his house and his life. She's chasing him around at his white collar country club and his high-rise office. Not surprising that at first he's reluctant to having this galvanic force of nature around him... until she shows him the other side of life. Martin's newfound lesson is that you can't have a romantic life if you're constantly allowing yourself to be interrupted by cell phone calls and business meetings.

Eugene Levy & Steve Martin
in "Bringing Down the House"

The problem with the movie is that the reinforced racial stereotypes are offensive and distracting from the real pleasures of the movie. The stereotypes on display tend to be stupid and outdated. Can any audience member in the 21st century really feel good at laughing when stuck-up white people constantly assume that if she's black, she must be the housemaid or nanny? Didn't that kind of race-card profiling in comedies get thrown out the window after its ancient topics were divided and conquered by 'Archie Bunker' on television a few decades ago? And how could you not be bothered by the arrival of a new black character when accompanied by sneering, ominous black fear music. As if something bad is going to happen because the character is black and the music tells us to be afraid.

What a reluctant shame, because there are many entertaining moments that feel like classic Steve Martin comedy. How very rare it is to see a scene where a 50-something actor milks laughs by getting fussy with his hair before a big date. And watch him break out on the dance floor in an attempt to groove like a hip black person. Priceless. And then the subsequent scene where Latifah attempts to teach Martin how to romance and talk dirty is as outrageous as anything Martin has done since he was a young, wild and crazy guy.

Steve Martin gets 'funky' in
"Bringing Down the House"

And then a supporting role with Eugene Levy as Martin's colleague (he's the best thing in the American Pie movies as the all-embracing and understanding dad) is also undeniably funny. Priceless. He gets the ghetto talk down quickly, and turns it into poetry. He never stops with the innuendos as he tries to move in on Latifah and get some honey. Levy is so naturally funny that you wonder if he writes his own lines. His stuff is too good to have come from a writer.

But it is easy to recognize the lousy stuff that came from the writers. Martin hustles through the entire movie in order to land an account for his company with a rich billionaire heiress (Joan Plowright), who demonstrates racist tendencies. A dinnertime scene at Martin's house is achingly unfunny and falls from embarrassment, as the Plowright character makes racist remarks within Latifah's earshot. The scene develops and develops and then loses its comic strategy. Martin eats off of a dinner plate that is spiked with laxatives that is intended for Plowright. He gets sick, experiences bowel movements and goes to the bathroom. Then he comes back. I'm still waiting for the punchline.

What becomes obvious is that the actors know how to be funny on their own, but are sabotaged by bad directing from Adam Shankman (The Wedding Planner). Characters make obvious timetable entrances and exits that play like a poorly choreographed sitcom. One extended fight scene between black girl and white girl -- they fight out their differences -- is not funny but is instead an ugly slugfest that goes on for way too long. And I wonder why it's necessary for gunplay to come into a comedy that has the intentions of being congenial. Yet there are so many laughs in the movie that are memorable. But is it worth it? How clean do you think you'll feel when you walk out of this tawdry mess? Maybe it will matter to you and maybe it won't. But you'll likely be counting the ways of how they could have made this movie better.

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

delphian-diatribe [2004-01-04 09:26:45 +0000 UTC]

MAMMA LYRICS
  


feat. Tony Sunshine

[Chorus: Tony Sunshine]
Mamma.. I don't understand
Why he had to fuck with me, now I gotta kill this man
I said mamma.. now I'm on the run
Dear ma-mmahhhhhhh.. what have I done?

[Big Pun]
Somebody save me, I think I just killed somebody baby
Shoulda chilled but money was really tryin to play me
Couldn't hold it no more so I showed him the four
Duke was dissin my girl like she was hoein on tour
And knowin I'm raw, money tried to play fly
'I said whassup to the bitch; why she couldn't say hi?'
That ain't right! I had to put him in his place
Remember them hollows I bought for three bottles?
I put 'em in his face
I didn't have to disgrace myself, hatin myself
'Ahora a tu!' BLAM BLAM, brace yo'self
That's the law - the streets are like basketball
but sometimes you shoot, sometimes you pass it off
Can't always take a shot, make one mistake you upstate for what?
Too much hate, time to break the lock
I hate the cops so I ain't tryin to see 'em
I love a brother doin triple life but I ain't tryin to be him
That's why I be on the low, and keep my feet in the row
Cause they're tellin me as far as felonies
you get life for three in a row
Then whadday'know? Last week at the flicks
I had to kill somebody, for steppin on my kicks (STUPID)

[Chorus]

[Big Pun]
I can murder half the world laugh while the other side hate me
but hurt one hair on my mamma head and I'ma, cry like a baby
She my heart and soul; what Jimi Hendrix was to rock'n'roll
Made me believe I could achieve the impossible

Now you know one of my weakness's, but Punisher keeps it glizz
So don't pull out cause when I pop oh what a relief it is
Send you where Jesus is - hold up, that's the gas chamber
Think before you put on that ski-mask and blast a stranger
Relax the anger, don't be so hard on yourself
That's how you'll end up twelve years old;
bein charged as an adult
Terror Squad is here to help so you can learn from our mistakes
Cause power just makes you reject destiny and devour your fate
How many hours I waste, tryin to figure the shit
Until I finally realized, we're just niggaz and spics
That's what they feel, what can I do but just stay real?
Keep somethin in the stash in case I gotta make bail
Cause ain't no brothers, runnin shit in the system
You goin straight to jail if you colored and fit the description
.. fuck you talkin about? I live here
This is my buildin nigga; fuck you nigga!
That's my daughter right there playin.. fuck off me!
Get the fuck off!

[Chorus]

[Big Pun]
I don't have much time so I'm only gonna ask you once
to please forgive me mamma; I love you and I'm sorry I broke your heart
But I ask you to do me a favor and take care of my daughters
and raise them to be good respectable woman, like their mother
God bless her soul
And raise my son to be a good man, a better man than me
And for this I give you my soul, I love you

[Chorus - whispered; a woman cries out in agony]

[Tony Sunshine]
Heyyyy ma-ma-ma-mma..
I just killed a man..
Ma-mmaaaa.. what am I to do?

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

delphian-diatribe [2004-01-04 09:24:21 +0000 UTC]

ebb-tide's cunning use of pastels exposes his intrinsic passion to pay homage to young Goodman Brown came forth at sunset into the street at Salem Village; but put his head back after crossing the threshold, to exchange a parting kiss with his young wife. And Faith, as the wife was aptly named, thrust her own pretty head into the street, letting the wind play with the pink ribbons of her cap while she called to Goodman Brown.



2
"Dearest heart," whispered she, softly and rather sadly, when her lips were close to his ear, "prithee put off your journey until sunrise and sleep in your own bed to-night. A lone woman is troubled with such dreams and such thoughts that she's afeard of herself sometimes. Pray tarry with me this night, dear husband, of all nights in the year."



3
"My love and my Faith," replied young Goodman Brown, "of all nights in the year, this one night must I tarry away from thee. My journey, as thou callest it, forth and back again, must needs be done 'twixt now and sunrise. What, my sweet, pretty wife, cost thou doubt me already, and we but three months married?"



4
"Then God bless you!" said Faith, with the pink ribbons; "and may you find all well when you come back."



5
"Amen!" cried Goodman Brown. "Say thy prayers, dear Faith, and go to bed at dusk, and no harm will come to thee."



6
So they parted; and the young man pursued his way until, being about to turn the corner by the meeting-hduse, he looked back and saw the head of Faith still peeping after him with a melancholy air, in spite of her pink ribbons.



7
"Poor little Faith!" thought he, for his heart smote him. "What a wretch am I to leave her on such an errand! She talks of dreams, too. Methought as she spoke there was trouble in her face, as if a dream had warned her what work is to be done to-night. But no, no; 't would kill her to think it. Well, she's a blessed angel on earth; and after this one night I'll cling to her skirts and follow her to heaven."



8
With this excellent resolve for the future, Goodman Brown felt himself justified in making more haste on his present evil purpose. He had taken a dreary road, darkened by all the gloomiest trees of the forest, which barely stood aside to let the narrow path creep through, and closed immediately behind. It was all as lonely as could be; and there is this peculiarity in such a solitude, that the traveller knows not who may be concealed by the innumerable trunks and the thick boughs overhead; so that with lonely footsteps he may yet be passing through an unseen multitude.



9
"There may be a devilish Indian behind every tree," said Goodman Brown to himself; and he glanced fearfully behind him as he added, "What if the devil himself should be at my very elbow!"



10
His head being turned back, he passed a crook of the road, and, looking forward again, beheld the figure of a man, in grave and decent attire, seated at the foot of an old tree. He arose at Goodman Brown's approach and walked onward side by side with him. "You are late, Goodman Brown," said he. "The clock of the Old South was striking as I came through Boston, and that is full fifteen minutes agone."



11
"Faith kept me back a while," replied the young man, with a tremor in his voice, caused by the sudden appearance of his companion, though not wholly unexpected.



12
It was now deep dusk in the forest, and deepest in that part of it where these two were journeying. As nearly as could be discerned, the second traveller was about fifty years old, apparently in the same rank of life as Goodman Brown, and bearing a considerable resemblance to him, though perhaps more in expression than features. Still they might have been taken for father and son. And yet, though the elder person was as simply clad as the younger, and as simple in manner too, he had an indescribable air of one who knew the world, and who would not have felt abashed at the governor's dinner table or in King William's court, were it possible that his affairs should call him thither. But the only thing about him that could be fixed upon as remarkable was his staff, which bore the likeness of a great black snake, so curiously wrought that it might almost be seen to twist and wriggle itself like a living serpent. This, of course, must have been an ocular deception, assisted by the uncertain light.



13
"Come, Goodman Brown," cried his fellow-traveller, "this is a dull pace for the beginning of a journey. Take my staff, if you are so soon weary."



14
"Friend," said the other, exchanging his slow pace for a full stop, "having kept covenant by meeting thee here, It IS my purpose now to return whence I came. I have scruples touching the matter thou wot'st of."



15
"Sayest thou so?" replied he of the serpent, smiling apart. "Let us walk on, nevertheless, reasoning as we go; and if I convince thee not thou shalt turn back. We are but a little way in the forest yet."



16
"Too far! too far!" exclaimed the goodman, unconsciously resuming his walk. "My father never went into the woods on such an errand, nor his father before him. We have been a race of honest men and good Christians since the days of the martyrs; and shall I be the first of the name of Brown that ever took this path and kept--"



17
"Such company, thou wouldst say," observed the elder person, interpreting his pause. "Well said, Goodman Brown! I have been as well acquainted with your family as with ever a one among the Puritans; and that's no trifle to say. I helped your grandfather, the constable, when he lashed the Quaker woman so smartly through the streets of Salem; and it was I that brought your father a pitch-pine knot, kindled at my own hearth, to set fire to an Indian village, in King Philip's war. They were my good friends, both; and many a pleasant walk have we had along this path, and returned merrily after midnight. I would fain be friends with you for their sake."



18
"If it be as thou gayest," replied Goodman Brown, "I marvel they never spoke of these matters; or, verily, I marvel not, seeing that the least rumor of the sort would have driven them from New England. We are a people of prayer, and good works to boot, and abide no such wickedness."



19
"Wickedness or not," said the traveller with the twisted staff, "I have a very general acquaintance here in New England. The deacons of many a church have drunk the communion wine with me; the selectmen of divers towns make me their chairman; and a majority of the Great and General Court are firm supporters of my interest. The governor and I, too--But these are state secrets."



20
"Can this be so?" cried Goodman Brown, with a stare of amazement at his undisturbed companion. "Howbeit, I have nothing to do with the governor and council; they have their own ways, and are no rule for a simple husbandman like me. But, were I to go on with thee, how should I meet the eye of that good old man, our minister, at Salem Village? Oh, his voice would make me tremble both Sabbath day and lecture day."



21
Thus far the elder traveller had listened with due gravity; but now burst into a fit of irrepressible mirth, shaking himself so violently that his snakelike staff actually seemed to wriggle in sympathy.



22
"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted he again and again; then composing himself, "Well, go on, Goodman Brown, go on; but, prithee, don't kill me with laughing."



23
"Well, then, to end the matter at once," said Goodman Brown, considerably nettled, "there is my wife, Faith. It would break her dear little heart; and I'd rather break my own."



24
"Nay, if that be the case," answered the other, "e'en go thy ways, Goodman Brown. I would not for twenty old women like the one hobbling before us that Faith should come to any harm."



25
As he spoke he pointed his staff at a female figure on the path, in whom Goodman Brown recognized a very pious and exemplary dame, who had taught him his catechism in youth, and was still his moral and spiritual adviser, jointly with the minister and Deacon Gookin. "A marvel, truly, that Goody Cloyse should be so far in the wilderness at nightfall," said he. "But with your leave, friend, I shall take a cut through the woods until we have left this Christian woman behind. Being a stranger to you, she might ask whom I was consorting with and whither I was going."



26
"Be it so," said his fellow-traveller. " Betake you the woods' and let me keep the path."



27
Accordingly the young man turned aside, but took care to watch his companion, who advanced softly along the road until he had come within a staff's length of the old dame. She, meanwhile, was making the best of her way, with singular speed for so aged a woman, and mumbling some indistinct words--a prayer, doubtless--as she went. The traveller put forth his staff and touched her withered neck with what seemed the serpent's tail.



28
"The devil!" screamed the pious old lady.



29
"Then Goody Cloyse knows her old friend?" observed the traveller, confronting her and leaning on his writhing stick.



30
"Ah, forsooth, and is it your worship indeed?" cried the good dame.



31
"Yea, truly is it, and in the very image of my old gossip, Goodman Brown, the grandfather of the silly fellow that now is. But--would your worship believe it?--my broomstick hath strangely disappeared, stolen, as I suspect, by that unhanged witch, Goody Cory, and that, too, when I was all anointed with the juice of smallage, and cinquefoil, and wolf's bane--"



32
"Mingled with fine wheat and the fat of a new-born babe," said the shape of old Goodman Brown.



33
"Ah, your worship knows the recipe," cried the old lady, cackling aloud. "So, as I was saying, being all ready for the meeting, and no horse to ride on, I made up my mind to foot it; for they tell me there is a nice young man to be taken into communion to-night. But now your good worship will lend me your arm, and we shall be there in a twinkling."



34
"That can hardly be," answered her friend. "I may not spare you my arm, Goody Cloyse; but here is my staff, if you will."



35
So saying, he threw it down at her feet, where, perhaps, it assumed life, being one of the rods which its owner had formerly lent to the Egyptian magi. Of this fact, however, Goodman Brown could not take cognizance. He had cast up his eyes in astonishment, and, looking down again, beheld neither Goody Cloyse nor the serpentine staff, but this fellow-traveller alone, who waited for him as calmly as if nothing had happened.



36
"That old woman taught me my catechism," said the young man; and there was a world of meaning in this simple comment.



37
They continued to walk onward, while the elder traveller exhorted his companion to make good speed and persevere in the path, discoursing so aptly that his arguments seemed rather to spring up in the bosom of his auditor than to be suggested by himself. As they went, he plucked: a branch of maple to serve for a walking stick, and began to strip it of the twigs and little boughs, which were wet with evening dew. The moment his fingers touched them they became strangely withered and dried up as with a week's sunshine. Thus the pair proceeded, at a good free pace, until suddenly, in a gloomy hollow of the road, Goodman Brown sat himself down on the stump of a tree and refused to go any farther.



38
"Friend," said he, stubbornly, "my mind is made up. Not another step will I budge on this errand. What if a wretched old woman do choose to go to the devil when I thought she was going to heaven: is that any reason why I should quit my dear Faith and go after her?"



39
"You will think better of this by and by," said his acquaintance, composedly. "Sit here and rest yourself a while; and when you feel like moving again, there is my staff to help you along."



40
Without more words, he threw his companion the maple stick, and was as speedily out of sight as if he had vanished into the deepening gloom. The young man sat a few moments by the roadside, applauding himself greatly, and thinking with how clear a conscience he should meet the minister in his morning walk, nor shrink from the eye of good old Deacon Gookin. And what calm sleep would be his that very night, which was to have been spent so wickedly, but so purely and sweetly now, in the arms of Faith! Amidst these pleasant and praiseworthy meditations, Goodman Brown heard the tramp of horses along the road, and deemed it advisable to conceal himself within the verge of the forest, conscious of the guilty purpose that had brought him thither, though now so happily turned from it.



41
On came the hoof tramps and the voices of the riders, two grave old voices, conversing soberly as they drew near. These mingled sounds appeared to pass along the road, within a few yards of the young man's hiding-place; but, owing doubtless to the depth of the gloom at that particular spot, neither the travellers nor their steeds were visible. Though their figures brushed the small boughs by the wayside, it could not be seen that they intercepted, even for a moment, the faint gleam from the strip of bright sky athwart which they must have passed. Goodman Brown alternately crouched and stood on tiptoe, pulling aside the branches and thrusting forth his head as far as he durst without discerning so much as a shadow. It vexed him the more, because he could have sworn, were such a thing possible, that he recognized the voices of the minister and Deacon Gookin, jogging along quietly, as they were wont to do, when bound to some ordination or ecclesiastical council. While yet within hearing, one of the riders stopped to pluck a switch.



42
"Of the two, reverend sir," said the voice like the deacon's, "I had rather miss an ordination dinner than to-night's meeting. They tell me that some of our community are to be here from Falmouth and beyond, and others from Connecticut and Rhode Island, besides several of the Indian powwows, who, after their fashion, know almost as much deviltry as the best of us. Moreover, there is a goodly young woman to be taken into communion."



43
"Mighty well, Deacon Gookin!" replied the solemn old tones of the minister. "Spur up, or we shall be late. Nothing can be done, you know, until I get on the ground."



44
The hoofs clattered again; and the voices, talking so strangely in the empty air, passed on through the forest, where no church had ever been gathered or solitary Christian prayed. Whither, then, could these holy men be journeying so deep into the heathen wilderness? Young Goodman Brown caught hold of a tree for support, being ready to sink down on the ground, faint and overburdened with the heavy sickness of his heart. He looked up to the sky, doubting whether there really was a heaven above him. Yet there was the blue arch, and the stars brightening in it.



45
"With heaven above and Faith below, I will yet stand firm against the devil!" cried Goodman Brown.



46
While he still gazed upward into the deep arch of the firmament and had lifted his hands to pray, a cloud, though no wind was stirring, hurried across the zenith and hid the brightening stars. The blue sky was still visible, except directly overhead, where this black mass of cloud was sweeping swiftly northward. Aloft in the air, as if from the depths of the cloud, came a confused and doubtful sound of voices. Once the listener fancied that he could distinguish the accents of towns-people of his own, men and women, both pious and ungodly, many of whom he had met at the communion table, and had seen others rioting at the tavern. The next moment, so indistinct were the sounds, he doubted whether he had heard aught but the murmur of the old forest, whispering without a wind. Then came a stronger swell of those familiar tones, heard daily in the sunshine at Salem Village, but never until now from a cloud of night. There was one voice, of a young woman, uttering lamentations, yet with an uncertain sorrow, and entreating for some favor, which, perhaps, it would grieve her to obtain; and all the unseen multitude, both saints and sinners, seemed to encourage her onward.



47
"Faith!" shouted Goodman Brown, in a voice of agony and desperation; and the echoes of the forest mocked him, crying, "Faith! Faith!" as if bewildered wretches were seeking her all through the wilderness.



48
The cry of grief, rage, and terror was yet piercing the night, when the unhappy husband held his breath for a response. There was a scream, drowned immediately in a louder murmur of voices, fading into far-off laughter, as the dark cloud swept away, leaving the clear and silent sky above Goodman Brown. But something fluttered lightly down through the air and caught on the branch of a tree. The young man seized it, and beheld a pink ribbon.



49
"My Faith is gone!" cried he, after one stupefied moment. "There is no good on earth; and sin is but a name. Come, devil; for to thee is this world given."



50
And, maddened with despair, so that he laughed loud and long, did Goodman Brown grasp his staff and set forth again, at such a rate that he seemed to fly along the forest path rather than to walk or run. The road grew wilder and drearier and more faintly traced, and vanished at length, leaving him in the heart of the dark wilderness, still rushing onward with the instinct that guides mortal man to evil. The whole forest was peopled with frightful sounds--the creaking of the trees, the howling of wild beasts, and the yell of Indians; while sometimes the wind tolled like a distant church bell, and sometimes gave a broad roar around the traveller, as if all Nature were laughing him to scorn. But he was himself the chief horror of the scene, and shrank not from its other horrors.



51
"Ha! ha! ha!" roared Goodman Brown when the wind laughed at him "Let us hear which will laugh loudest. Think not to frighten me with your deviltry. Come witch, come wizard, come Indian powwow, come devil himself, and here comes Goodman Brown. You may as well fear him as he fear you."



52
In truth, all through the haunted forest there could be nothing more frightful than the figure of Goodman Brown. On he flew among the black pines, brandishing his staff with frenzied gestures, now giving vent to an inspiration of horrid blasphemy, and now shouting forth such laughter as set all the echoes of the forest laughing like demons around him. The fiend in his own shape is less hideous than when he rages in the breast of man. Thus sped the demoniac on his course, until, quivering among the trees, he saw a red light before him, as when the felled trunks and branches of a clearing have been set on fire, and throw up their lurid blaze against the sky, at the hour of midnight. He paused, in a lull of the tempest that had driven him onward, and heard the swell of what seemed a hymn, rolling solemnly from a distance with the weight of many voices. He knew the tune; it was a familiar one in the choir of the village meetinghouse. The verse died heavily away, and was lengthened by a chorus, not of human voices, but of all the sounds of the benighted wilderness pealing in awful harmony together. Goodman Brown cried out, and his cry was lost to his own ear by its unison with the cry of the desert.



53
In the interval of silence he stole forward until the light glared full upon his eyes. At one extremity of an open space, hemmed in by the dark wall of the forest, arose a rock, bearing some rude, natural resemblance either to an altar or a pulpit, and surrounded by four blazing pines, their tops aflame, their stems untouched, like candles at an evening meeting. The mass of foliage that had overgrown the summit of the rock was all on fire, blazing high into the night and fitfully illuminating the whole field. Each pendent twig and leafy festoon was in a blaze. As the red light arose and fell' a numerous congregation alternately shone forth, then disappeared in shadow, and again grew, as it were, out of the darkness, peopling the heart of the solitary woods at once.



54
"A grave and dark-clad company," quoth Goodman Brown.



55
In truth they were such. Among them, quivering to and fro between gloom and splendor, appeared faces that would be seen next day at the council board of the province, and others which, Sabbath after Sabbath, looked devoutly heavenward, and benignantly over the crowded pews, from the holiest pulpits in the land. Some affirm that the lady of the governor was there. At least there were high dames well known to her, and wives of honored husbands, and widows, a great multitude, and ancient maidens, all of excellent repute, and fair young girls, who trembled lest their mothers should espy them. Either the sudden gleams of light flashing over the obscure field bedazzled Goodman Brown, or he recognized a score of the church members of Salem Village famous for their especial sanctity. Good old Deacon Gookin had arrived, and waited at the skirts of that venerable saint, his revered pastor. But, irreverently consorting with these grave, reputable, and pious people, these elders of the church, these chaste dames and dewy virgins, there were men of dissolute lives and women of spotted fame, wretches given over to all mean and filthy vice, and suspected even of horrid crimes. It was strange to see that the good shrank not from the wicked, nor were the sinners abashed by the saints. Scattered also among their pale-faced enemies were the Indian priests, or powwows, who had often scared their native forest with more hideous incantations than any known to English witchcraft.



56
"But where is Faith?" thought Goodman Brown; and, as hope came into his heart, he trembled.



57
Another verse of the hymn arose, a slow and mournful strain, such as the pious love, but joined to words which expressed all that our nature can conceive of sin, and darkly hinted at far more. Unfathomable to mere mortals is the lore of fiends. Verse after verse was sung, and still the chorus of the desert swelled between like the deepest tone of a mighty organ; and with the final peal of that dreadful anthem there came a sound, as if the roaring wind, the rushing streams, the howling beasts, and every other voice of the unconcerted wilderness were mingling and according with the voice of guilty man in homage to the prince of all. The four blazing pines threw up a loftier flame, and obscurely discovered shapes and visages of horror on the smoke wreaths above the impious assembly. At the same moment the fire on the rock shot redly forth and formed a glowing arch above its base, where now appeared a figure. With reverence be it spoken, the figure bore no slight similitude, both in garb and manner, to some grave divine of the New England churches.



58
"Bring forth the converts!" cried a voice that echoed through the field and rolled into the forest.



59
At the word, Goodman Brown stepped forth from the shadow of the trees and approached the congregation, with whom he felt a loathful brotherhood by the sympathy of all that was wicked in his heart. He could have well-nigh sworn that the shape of his own dead father beckoned him to advance, looking downward from a smoke wreath, while a woman, with dim features of despair, threw out her hand to warn him back. Was it his mother? But he had no power to retreat one step, nor to resist, even in thought, when the minister and good old Deacon Gookin seized his arms and led him to the blazing rock. Thither came also the slender form of a veiled female, led between Goody Cloyse, that pious teacher of the catechism, and Martha Carrier, who had received the devil's promise to be queen of hell. A rampant hag was she. And there stood the proselytes beneath the canopy of fire.



60
"Welcome, my children," said the dark figure, "to the communion of your race. Ye have found thus young your nature and your destiny. My children, look behind you!"



61
They turned; and flashing forth, as it were, in a sheet of flame, the fiend worshippers were seen; the smile of welcome gleamed darkly on every visage.



62
"There," resumed the sable form, "are all whom ye have reverenced from youth. Ye deemed them holier than yourselves, and shrank from your own sin, contrasting it with their lives of righteousness and prayerful aspirations heavenward. Yet here are they all in my worshipping assembly. This night it shall be granted you to know their secret deeds: how hoary-bearded elders of the church have whispered wanton words to the young maids of their households; how many a woman, eager for widows' weeds, has given her husband a drink at bedtime and let him sleep his last sleep in her bosom how beardless youths have made haste to inherit their fathers' wealth; and how fair damsels--blush not, sweet ones--have dug little graves in the carder, and bidden me, the sole guest, to an infant's funeral. By the sympathy of your human hearts for sin ye shall scent out all the places--whether in church, bed-chamber, street, field, or forest--where crime has been committed, and shall exult to behold the whole earth one stain of guilt, one mighty blood spot. Far more than this. It shall be yours to penetrate, in every bosom, the deep mystery of sin, the fountain of all wicked arts, and which inexhaustibly supplies more evil impulses than human power--than my power at its utmost--can make manifest in deeds. And now, my children, look upon each other."



63
They did so; and, by the blaze of the hell-kindled torches, the wretched man beheld his Faith, and the wife her husband, trembling before that unhallowed altar.



64
"Lo, there ye stand, my children," said the figure, in a deep and solemn tone, almost sad with its despairing awfulness, as if his once angelic nature could yet mourn for our miserable race. "Depending upon one another's hearts, ye had still hoped that virtue were not all a dream. Now are ye undeceived. Evil is the nature of mankind. Evil must be your only happiness. Welcome again, my children, to the communion of your race."



65
"Welcome," repeated the fiend worshippers, in one cry of despair and triumph.



66
And there they stood, the only pair, as it seemed, who were yet hesitating on the verge of wickedness in this dark world. A basin was hollowed, naturally, in the rock. Did it contain water, reddened by the lurid light? or was it blood? or, perchance, a liquid flame? Herein did the shape of evil dip his hand and prepare to lay the mark of baptism upon their foreheads, that they might be partakers of the mystery of sin, more conscious of the secret guilt of others, both in deed and thought, than they could now be of their own. The husband cast one look at his pale wife, and Faith at him. What polluted wretches would the next glance show them to each other, shuddering alike at what they disclosed and what they saw!



67
"Faith! Faith!" cried the husband, "look up to heaven, and resist the wicked one."



68
Whether Faith obeyed he knew not. Hardly had he spoken when he found himself amid calm night and solitude, listening to a roar of the wind which died heavily away through the forest. He staggered against the rock, and felt it chill and damp; while a hanging twig, that had been all on fire, besprinkled his cheek with the coldest dew.



69
The next morning young Goodman Brown came slowly into the street of Salem Village, staring around him like a bewildered man. The good old minister was taking a walk along the graveyard to get an appetite for breakfast and meditate his sermon, and bestowed a blessing, as he passed, on Goodman Brown. He shrank from the venerable saint as if to avoid an anathema. Old Deacon Gookin was at domestic worship, and the holy words of his prayer were heard through the open window. "What God cloth the wizard pray to?" quoth Goodman Brown. Goody Cloyse, that excellent old Christian, stood in the early sunshine at her own lattice, catechizing a little girl who had brought her a pint of morning's milk. Goodman Brown snatched away the child as from the grasp of the fiend himself. Turning the corner by the meetinghouse, he spied the head of Faith, with the pink ribbons, gazing anxiously forth, and bursting into such joy at sight of him that she skipped along the street and almost kissed her husband before the whole village. But Goodman Brown looked sternly and sadly into her face, and passed on without a greeting.



70
Had Goodman Brown fallen asleep in the forest and only dreamed a wild dream of a witch-meeting?



71
Be it so if you will; but, alas! it was a dream of evil omen for young Goodman Brown. A stern, a sad, a darkly meditative, a distrustful, if not a desperate man did he become from the night of that fearful dream. On the Sabbath day, when the congregation were singing a holy psalm, he could not listen because an anthem of sin rushed loudly upon his ear and drowned all the blessed strain. When the minister spoke from the pulpit with power and fervid eloquence, and, with his hand on the open Bible, of the sacred truths of our religion, and of saint-like lives and triumphant deaths, and of future bliss or misery unutterable, then did Goodman Brown turn pale, dreading lest the roof should thunder down upon the gray blasphemer and his hearers. Often, awaking suddenly at midnight, he shrank from the bosom of Faith; and at morning or eventide, when the family knelt down at prayer, he scowled and muttered to himself, and gazed sternly at his wife, and turned away. And when he had lived long, and was borne to his grave a hoary corpse, followed by Faith, an aged woman, and children and grandchildren, a goodly procession, besides neighbors not a few, they carved no hopeful verse upon his tombstone, for his dying hour was gloom.

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delphian-diatribe [2004-01-04 09:12:43 +0000 UTC]

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delphian-diatribe [2004-01-04 00:11:40 +0000 UTC]

My daddy's a good man.

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blue-arson [2004-01-03 20:08:32 +0000 UTC]

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deslumbrante [2004-01-03 19:52:07 +0000 UTC]

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