War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [514]
He interested himself in trifles, joked about Beausset’s love of travel, and chatted away casually, as a famous, self-assured surgeon, who knows his job, does as he rolls up his sleeves and puts on his apron, while the patient is being strapped to the cot: “The whole matter is in my hands and in my head, clearly and definitely. When I have to get down to it, I’ll do it like nobody else, but now I can joke, and the more calm and jocular I am, the more assured, calm, and astonished at my genius you should be.”
Having finished his second glass of punch, Napoleon went to rest before the serious business which, as it seemed to him, faced him the next day.
He was so concerned with the business facing him that he could not sleep and, despite his cold, aggravated by the evening dampness, at three o’clock that night, loudly blowing his nose, he went out to the large section of the tent. He asked if the Russians were still there. The reply was that the enemy’s fires were still in the same places. He nodded his head approvingly.
The adjutant on duty came into the tent.
“Eh bien, Rapp, croyez-vous que nous ferons de bonnes affaires aujourd’hui?”†483 he addressed him.
“Sans aucun doute, Sire,”‡484 answered Rapp.
Napoleon looked at him.
“Vous rappelez-vous, Sire, ce que vous m’avez fait l’honneur de dire à Smolensk,” said Rapp, “le vin est tiré, il faut le boire.”§485
Napoleon frowned and sat silently for a long time, his head on his hand.
“Cette pauvre armée,” he said, “elle a bien diminuée depuis Smolensk. La fortune est une franche courtisane, Rapp; je le disais toujours, et je commence à l’éprouver. Mais la garde, Rapp, la garde est intacte?”#486 he said questioningly.
“Oui, Sire,” answered Rapp.
Napoleon took a lozenge, put it in his mouth, and looked at his watch. He had no wish to sleep, morning was still far off; it was no longer possible to kill time by giving any sort of instructions, because they had all been given and were now being carried out.
“A-t-on distribué les biscuits et le riz aux régiments de la garde?”*487 Napoleon asked sternly.
“Oui, Sire.”
“Mais le riz?”†488
Rapp answered that he had conveyed the sovereign’s orders about the rice, but Napoleon shook his head in displeasure, as if he did not believe that his order had been carried out. A servant came in with punch. Napoleon called for another glass to be served to Rapp and silently sipped from his own.
“I have no taste or smell,” he said, sniffing the glass. “I’m tired of this cold. They talk about medicine. What good is medicine, if they can’t cure a cold? Corvisart gave me these lozenges, but they don’t help at all. What can they cure? It’s impossible to cure. Notre corps est une machine à vivre. Il est organisé pour cela, c’est sa nature; laissez-y faire la vie à son aise, qu’elle s’y défende elle-même: elle fera plus que si vous la paralysiez en l’encombrant de remèdes. Notre corps est comme une montre parfaite qui doit aller un certain temps; l’horloger n’a pas la faculté de l’ouvrir, il ne peut la manier qu’à tâtons et les yeux bandés. Notre corps est une machine à vivre, voilà tout.”‡489 And as if entering on the path of definitions, définitions, which Napoleon liked, he suddenly made a new definition. “Do you know, Rapp, what the art of war is?” he asked. “It’s the art of being stronger than the enemy at a certain moment. Voilà tout.”
Rapp said nothing.
“Demain nous allons avoir affaire à Koutouzoff!”§490 said Napoleon. “We’ll see! Remember, he was in command of the army in Braunau and in three weeks never once got on a horse to inspect the fortifications. We’ll see!”
He glanced at his watch. It was only four o’clock. He did not want to sleep, the punch was finished, and there was still nothing to do. He stood up, paced back and forth, put on a warm tunic and a hat, and left the tent. The night was dark and damp; a barely perceptible dampness fell from above. Low fires burned nearby, among the French