War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [16]
“Papá, we’ll be late,” said Princess Hélène, who was waiting at the door, turning her beautiful head on her classical shoulders.
But influence in society is a capital that must be used sparingly, lest it disappear. Prince Vassily knew that and, having once realized that if he were to solicit for everyone who solicited from him, it would soon become impossible for him to solicit for himself, he rarely used his influence. In Princess Drubetskoy’s case, however, after her new appeal, he felt something like a pang of conscience. She had reminded him of the truth: he owed his first steps in the service to her father. Besides, he could see from the way she behaved that she was one of those women, especially mothers, who, once they take something into their heads, will not leave off until their desire is fulfilled, and are otherwise prepared to pester you every day and every minute, and even to make scenes. This last consideration gave him pause.
“Chère Anna Mikhailovna,” he said, with his usual tone of familiarity and boredom, “it is almost impossible for me to do what you want; but to prove to you how much I love you and honor the memory of your late father, I will do the impossible: your son will be transferred to the guards, here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?”
“My dear, you are our benefactor! I expected nothing else from you; I knew how kind you are.”
He was about to leave.
“Wait, two more words. Une fois passé aux gardes…”*48 She faltered. “You’re on good terms with Mikhail Ilarionovich Kutuzov, recommend Boris as his adjutant. Then I’ll be at peace and…”
Prince Vassily smiled.
“That I will not promise you. You know how besieged Kutuzov has been since he was appointed commander in chief.13 He told me himself that all the Moscow ladies are conspiring to send their children to be his adjutants.”
“No, you must promise, I won’t let you go, my dear benefactor.”
“Papá,” the beauty repeated in the same tone, “we’ll be late.”
“Well, au revoir, good-bye, you see…”
“So you’ll speak to the sovereign tomorrow?”
“Without fail, but to Kutuzov I don’t promise.”
“No, do promise, do promise, Basile,” Anna Mikhailovna said behind him, with the smile of a young coquette, which must have suited her very well once, but now did not go with her emaciated face.
She evidently forgot her age and employed, out of habit, all her old feminine resources. But as soon as he left, her face again acquired the same cold, sham expression it had had before. She went back to the circle, where the viscount was going on with his story, and again pretended to listen, waiting for the moment to leave, since her business was done.
“But how do you find all this latest comedy du sacre de Milan,”14 asked Anna Pavlovna. “Et la nouvelle comédie des peuples de Gênes et de Lucques, qui viennent présenter leurs voeux à M. Buonaparte. M. Buonaparte assis sur un trône, et exauçant les voeux des nations! Adorable! Non, mais c’est à en devenir folle! On dirait, que le monde entier a perdu la tête.”†49
Prince Andrei grinned, looking straight into Anna Pavlovna’s face.
“‘Dieu me la donne, gare à qui la touche,’” he said (Bonaparte’s words, spoken as the crown was placed on him). “On dit qu’il a été très beau en prononçant ces paroles,”‡50 he added, and repeated the words once more in Italian: “‘Dio mi la dona, guai a chi la tocca.’”
“J’espère enfin,” Anna Pavlovna continued, “que ça a été la goutte d’eau qui fera déborder le verre. Les souverains ne peuvent plus supporter cet homme, qui menace tout.”*51
“Les souverains? Je ne parle pas de la Russie,” the viscount said courteously and hopelessly. “Les souverains, madame? Qu’ont-ils fait pour Louis XVI, pour la reine, pour madame Elisabeth?15 Rien,” he continued, growing animated. “Et croyez-moi, ils subissent la punition pour leur trahison de la cause des Bourbons.