War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [356]
“They offered him other lands in place of the dukedom of Oldenburg,” said Prince Nikolai Andreich. “He moves dukes around the way I move peasants from Bald Hills to Bogucharovo and my Ryazan estates.”
“Le duc d’Oldenbourg supporte son malheur avec une force de charactère et une résignation admirables,”*361 said Boris, respectfully entering into the conversation. He said it because, on his way from Petersburg, he had had the honor of being introduced to the duke. Prince Nikolai Andreich looked at the young man as if he wanted to tell him something about that, but changed his mind, considering him too young for it.
“I read our protest about the Oldenburg affair and was astonished at the poor wording of this note,” Count Rastopchin said in the careless tone of a man judging a matter that was very familiar to him.
Pierre looked at Rastopchin with naïve astonishment, not understanding why he was disturbed by the poor wording of the note.
“Does it make any difference how the note is worded, Count,” he said, “if the content is strong?”
“Mon cher, avec nos cinq cent mille hommes de troupes, il serait facile d’avoir un beau style,”†362 said Count Rastopchin. Pierre understood why Count Rastopchin was disturbed by the wording of the note.
“It seems there are lots of scribblers around,” said the old prince. “There in Petersburg they’re writing all the time, not only notes but new laws. My Andryusha wrote a whole volume of laws for Russia there. Nowadays everybody writes!” And he laughed unnaturally.
The conversation ceased for a moment; the old general cleared his throat to draw attention to himself.
“Did you hear about the latest event at the review in Petersburg? What a show the new French ambassador made of himself!”
“What’s that? Yes, I heard something; he said something awkward in his majesty’s presence.”
“His majesty drew his attention to the grenadier division and the ceremonial march past,” the general went on, “and the ambassador supposedly paid no attention to it and supposedly allowed himself to say that ‘we in France pay no attention to such trifles.’ The sovereign did not deign to reply. At the next review, they say, the sovereign did not deign to address him even once.”
Everyone fell silent: about this fact, which referred personally to the sovereign, it was impossible to express any opinion.
“Insolent fellows!” said the prince. “Do you know Métivier? I threw him out today. He was here, he was let in to see me, though I had asked them not to let anybody in,” said the prince, looking angrily at his daughter. And he recounted the whole conversation with the French doctor and the reasons why he became convinced that Métivier was a spy. Though those reasons were quite insufficient and unclear, no one objected.
After the roast, champagne was served. The guests got up from their places to congratulate the old prince. Princess Marya also went up to him.
He gave her a cold, angry look and offered her his wrinkled, clean-shaven cheek. The whole expression of his face told her that he had not forgotten their morning conversation, that his decision remained in force, and that it was only owing to the presence of the guests that he did not tell her so now.
When they went out to the drawing room for coffee, the old men sat together.
Prince Nikolai Andreich became more animated and voiced his way of thinking about the impending war.
He said that our wars with Bonaparte would be unsuccessful so long as we sought alliance with the Germans and meddled in the affairs of Europe, which we had been drawn into by the peace of Tilsit. We had no need to fight either for or against Austria. Our politics all lie in the East, and in relation to Bonaparte there is one thing—armed borders and firm politics—and he will never dare cross Russian borders as in the year seven.
“And far be it from us to fight the French, Prince!” said Count Rastopchin. “How can we oppose our teachers