第140章

第140章thetsarwasonalevelwithrostov,andhestoodstillthere.alexander’sfacewasevenhandsomerthanithadbeenatthereviewthreedaysbefore.itbeamedwithsuchgaietyandyouth,suchinnocentyouthfulness,thatestedtheplayfulnessofaboyoffourteen,andyetitwasstillthefaceofthemajesticemperor.glancingcasuallyalongthesquadron,thetsar’seyesmettheeyesofrostov,andfornotmorethantwosecondsrestedonthem.whetheritwasthatthetsarsawwhatwaspassinginrostov’ssoul（itseemedtorostovthathesaweverything）,anywayhelookedfortwosecondswithhisblueeyesintorostov’sface.（asoft,mildradiancebeamedfromthem.）thenallatonceheraisedhiseyebrows,struckhisleftfootsharplyagainsthishorse,andgallopedon.

theyoungemperorcouldnotrestrainhisdesiretobepresentatthebattle,andinspiteoftheexpostulationsofhiscourtiers,attwelveo’clock,escapingfromthethirdcolumnwhichhehadbeenfollowing,hegallopedtothevanguard.beforehereachedthehussars,severaladjutantsmethimwithnewsoftheessfulissueoftheengagement.

theaction,whichhadsimplyconsistedinthecaptureofasquadronofthefrench,wasmagnifiedintoabrilliantvictoryovertheenemy,andsothetsarandthewholearmybelieved,especiallywhilethesmokestillhungoverthefieldofbattle,thatthefrenchhadbeendefeated,andhadbeenforcedtoretreatagainsttheirwill.afewminutesafterthetsarhadgallopedon,thedivisionofthepavlogradhussarsreceivedorderstomoveforward.invishauitself,alittlegermantown,rostovsawthetsaroncemore.inthemarket-placeofthetownwheretherehadbeenratheraheavyfiringbeforethetsar’sarrival,layseveraldeadandwoundedsoldiers,whomtherehadnotbeentimetopickup.thetsar,surroundedbyhissuiteofofficersandcourtiers,wasmountedonadifferenthorsefromtheonehehadriddenatthereview,achestnutenglishthoroughbred.bendingononesidewithagracefulgesture,holdingagoldfield-glasstohiseyes,hewaslookingatasoldierlyingonhisfacewithablood-stainedanduncoveredhead.thewoundedsoldierwasanobjectsoimpure,sogrim,andsorevolting,thatrostovwasshockedathisbeingneartheemperor.rostovsawhowthetsar’sstoopingshouldersshuddered,asthoughacoldshiverhadpassedoverthem,howhisleftfootconvulsivelypressedthespurintothehorse’sside,andhowthetrainedhorselookedroundindifferentlyanddidnotstir.anadjutantdismountingliftedthesoldierupunderhisarms,andbeganlayinghimonastretcherthatcameup.thesoldiergroaned.

“gently,gently,can’tyoudoitmoregently？”saidthetsar,apparentlysufferingmorethanthedyingsoldier,andherodeaway.

rostovsawthetearsinthetsar’seyes,andheardhimsayinfrenchtotchartorizhsky,asherodeoff：“whatanawfulthingwaris,whatanawfulthing！”

theforcesofthevanguardwerepostedbeforevishauinsightoftheenemy’sline,whichhadbeenalldayretreatingbeforeusattheslightestexchangeofshots.thetsar’sthankswereconveyedtothevanguard,rewardswerepromised,andadoubleallowanceofvodkawasservedouttothemen.evenmoregailythanonthepreviousnightthebivouacfirescrackled,andthesoldierssangtheirsongs.denisovonthatnightcelebratedhispromotiontomajor,and,towardstheendofthecarousal,afteragooddealofdrinking,rostovproposedatoasttothehealthoftheemperor,but“notoursovereigntheemperor,astheysayatofficialdinners,”saidhe,“buttothehealthoftheemperor,thegood,enchanting,greatman,letusdrinktohishealth,andtoadecisivevictoryoverthefrench！”

“ifwefoughtbefore,”saidhe,“andwouldnotyieldaninchbeforethefrench,asatsch？ngraben,whatwillitbenowwhenheisatourhead？wewillalldie,wewillgladlydieforhim.eh,gentlemen？perhapsi’mnotsayingitright.i’vedrunkagooddeal,butthat’showifeel,andyoudotoo.tothehealthofalexanderthefirst！hurrah！”

“hurrah！”rangoutthecheeryvoicesoftheofficers.andtheoldcaptainkirstenshoutednolessheartilyandsincerelythanrostov,theboyoftwenty.

whentheofficershaddrunkthetoastandsmashedtheirglasses,kirstenfilledsomefreshones,andinhisshirt-sleevesandriding-breecheswentouttothesoldiers’camp-fires,glassinhand,andwavinghishandintheairstoodinamajesticpose,withhislonggreywhiskersandhiswhitechestvisiblethroughtheopenshirtinthelightofthecamp-fire.

“lads,tothehealthofoursovereigntheemperor,tovictoryoverourenemies,hurrah！”heroaredinhisstalwartoldsoldier’sbaritone.thehussarsthrongedabouthimandrespondedbyaloudshoutinunison.

lateatnight,whentheyhadallseparated,denisovclappedhisshorthandontheshoulderofhisfavouriterostov.“tobesurehe’dnoonetofallinlovewithinthefield,sohe’sfalleninlovewiththetsar,”hesaid.

“denisov,don’tjokeaboutthat,”criedrostov,“it’ssuchalofty,suchasublimefeeling,so…”

“ibelieveyou,ibelieveyou,mydear,andisharethefeelingandapprove…”

“no,youdon’tunderstand！”androstovgotupandwentouttowanderaboutamongthecamp-fires,dreamingofwhathappinessitwouldbetodie—notsavingtheemperor’slife—（ofthathedidnotevendaretodream）,butsimplytodiebeforetheemperor’seyes.hereallywasinlovewiththetsarandthegloryoftherussianarmsandthehopeofcomingvictory.andhewasnottheonlymanwhofeltthusinthosememorabledaysthatprecededthebattleofausterlitz：nine-tenthsofthemenintherussianarmywereatthatmomentinlove,thoughlessecstatically,withtheirtsarandthegloryoftherussianarms.