War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [192]
The first words he heard when he came to were the words of the French convoy officer, who was saying hurriedly:
“We must stop here. The emperor will ride by now; it will give him pleasure to see all these gentlemen prisoners.”
“There are so many prisoners today, almost the whole Russian army, that he must be bored with it,” said another officer.
“Well, really! This, they say, is the commander of all the emperor Alexander’s guards,” said the first, pointing to a wounded Russian officer in the white uniform of the horse guards.
Bolkonsky recognized Prince Repnin, whom he used to meet in Petersburg society. Next to him stood another wounded officer of the horse guards, a nineteen-year-old boy.
Bonaparte, riding up at a gallop, stopped his horse.
“Who’s the senior man?”
They named the colonel, Prince Repnin.
“Are you the commander of the emperor Alexander’s regiment of horse guards?” asked Napoleon.
“I commanded a squadron,” replied Repnin.
“Your regiment fulfilled its duty honorably,” said Napoleon.
“The praise of a great general is a soldier’s best reward,” said Repnin.
“I bestow it on you with pleasure,” said Napoleon. “Who is this young man next to you?”
Prince Repnin named Lieutenant Sukhtelen.
Napoleon looked at him and said, smiling:
“Il est venu bien jeune se frotter à nous.”*275
“Youth is no impediment to bravery,” Sukhtelen said in a halting voice.
“A fine answer,” said Napoleon. “You’ll go far, young man!”
Prince Andrei, who, to complete the trophy of prisoners, was also brought out before the eyes of the emperor, could not fail to attract his attention. Napoleon evidently remembered seeing him on the battlefield, and, turning to him, used the same appellation of young man, jeune homme, under which Bolkonsky had been imprinted on his memory the first time.
“Et vous, jeune homme? And you, young man?” he addressed him. “How do you feel, mon brave?”
Though five minutes earlier Prince Andrei had been able to say a few words to the soldiers transporting him, now, with his eyes fixed directly on Napoleon, he was silent…To him at that moment all the interests that occupied Napoleon seemed so insignificant, his hero himself seemed so petty to him, with his petty vanity and joy in victory, compared with that lofty, just, and kindly sky, which he had seen and understood, that he was unable to answer him.
Then, too, everything seemed so useless and insignificant compared with that stern and majestic way of thinking called up in him by weakness from loss of blood, suffering, and the expectation of imminent death. Looking into Napoleon’s eyes, Prince Andrei thought about the insignficance of grandeur, about the insignificance of life, the meaning of which no one could understand, and about the still greater insignificance of death, the meaning of which no one among the living could understand or explain.
The emperor, receiving no answer, turned away and, as he rode off, addressed one of the officers:
“Have these gentlemen looked after and taken to my bivouac; have my doctor Larrey examine their wounds. Good-bye, Prince Repnin.” And, touching up his horse, he galloped on.
On his face was the radiance of self-satisfaction and happiness.
The soldiers who had carried Prince Andrei and had taken from him the little golden icon hung on her brother by Princess Marya, seeing the kindness with which the emperor treated the prisoners, hastened to return the icon.
Prince Andrei did not see how or by whom it was put back on him, but suddenly, on his chest over the uniform, a little icon on a fine gold chain turned up.
“It would be good,” thought Prince Andrei, looking at this icon which his sister had hung on him with such feeling and reverence, “it would be good if everything was as clear and simple as it