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News archives 21.09.2019 (1)

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Ege, here you are! - really surprised at last Rogozhin. “Ugh, hell, he really knows.”
- He knows everything! Lebedev knows everything! I, your Grace, have traveled with Likhachev Aleksashka for two months, and also after the death of my parent, and everything, that is, I know all the corners and alleys, and without Lebedev, has come to the point. Now he is present in the debt department, and then Armans, and Coralia, and Princess Patskaya, and Nastasya Filippovna had a chance to learn, and a lot of things had a chance to learn.
- Nastasya Filippovna? But is she with Likhachev .

.. ”Rogozhin looked at him viciously, even his lips turned pale and trembled.

News archives 21.09.2019 (1)
- N-nothing! N-N-Nothing! As there is nothing! - the official came to his senses and hurried up quickly, - Likhachev couldn’t get by any means, that is, money! No, it's not like Armans. There is only Totsky. Yes, in the evening at the Big Ali in the French Theater in his own bed sits. The officers there say little between themselves, and even they can’t prove anything: “well, they say, this is the same Nastasya Filippovna,” and that’s all; and as for the future - nothing! Because there is nothing.
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There was a morning mess in her room: on the table were secret dishes, an unfinished roll, eggshell; strong, asphyxiating smell of perfume. The bed was not made up, and it was obvious that two were sleeping on it. Ariadne herself recently got out of bed and was now in a flannel blouse, not combed.
I greeted, then sat silently for a minute while she tried to put her hair in order, and asked, trembling with her whole body:
- Why ... why did you write me here abroad?
Apparently, she guessed what I was thinking; she took my hand and said:
“I want you to be here.” You are so clean!
I was ashamed of my excitement, my trembling. And suddenly I still sob! I went out without saying a word, and an hour later I was already sitting in the carriage. For some reason I imagined Ariadne pregnant all the way, and she was disgusting to me, and all the women whom I saw in the cars and at the stations seemed somehow pregnant to me and were also disgusting and miserable. I was in the position of that greedy, passionate greedy man who would suddenly discover that all his gold coins are false. The pure, graceful images that my imagination, fueled by love, my plans, hopes, my memories, my views on love and woman, cherished for so long, now all this was laughing at me and showing me the language. Ariadne, I asked in horror, this young, remarkably beautiful, intelligent girl, the daughter of a senator, in connection with such an ordinary, uninteresting vulgarity? But why should she not love Lubkov? I answered myself. Why is he worse than me? Oh, let her love whom she pleases, but why lie? But why on earth should she be frank with me? And so on, everything like that, to the point of stupefaction. And the car was cold. I drove in the first class, but there are three in one on the couch, there are no double frames, the outer door opens directly in the compartment, and I felt as if in pads, squeezed, abandoned, miserable, and my legs were terribly chilly, and, in at the same time and now it came to mind how seductive she was today in her blouse and with her hair loose, and such intense jealousy suddenly seized me that I jumped up from heartache, and my neighbors looked at me with surprise and even fear .
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This is all true, - Rogozhin confirmed gloomily and stupidly, - then Zalezhev also told me. I then, the prince, in my father’s third-year-old father-in-law, passed across Nevsky, and she left the store, got into the carriage. So I burned here. I meet Zalezhev, he is not my couple, he walks like a clerk from a hairdresser, and lorgnit in the eye, and we at the parent in oiled boots and on lean soup were different. She says that she’s not your couple, she’s said, the princess, and her name is Nastasya Filippovna, the last name of Barashkov, and lives with Totsky, and Totsky now does not know how to get rid of her, that is why he has reached the present, fifty-five, and he wants to marry the first beautiful woman in all of St. Petersburg. Then he suggested to me that today you can see Nastasya Filippovna at the Bolshoi Theater, in ballet, in her box, in the benoir, she will sit. With us, at the parent, try to go to the ballet - one reprisal will kill! However, I, however, secretly escaped for an hour and saw Nastasya Filippovna again; I didn’t sleep all that night. The next morning, the dead man gives me two five-percent tickets, five thousand each, get off, say, yes, sell, yes, seven thousand and five hundred to the Andreevs at the office, demolish, pay, and imagine the rest change from ten thousand without going anywhere; I will wait for you. I sold the tickets, I took the money, but I didn’t go to the Andreev’s office, but went without looking anywhere, to the English store and bought a pair of pendants, one diamond in each, almost like a nut, four hundred rubles should stayed, the name said, believed. With pendants I am to Zalezhev: so and so, let's go, brother, to Nastasya Filippovna. Set off. What’s under my feet then, what’s before me, what’s on my sides — I don’t know anything and don’t remember. They went right into her room, she herself came to us. That is, then I did not say that I myself am; and “from Parfen, they say, Rogozhin,” says Zalezhev
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When Anna Mikhailovna left with her son to Count Kirill Vladimirovich Bezukhov, Countess Rostov sat alone for a long time, putting a handkerchief to her eyes. Finally she called.
“What are you, dear,” she said angrily to the girl, who kept herself waiting for several minutes. - Do not want to serve, or what? So I will find you a place.
The countess was upset by the grief and the humiliating poverty of her friend and therefore was not in the spirit, which was always expressed in her by the name of the maid “dear” and “you”.
“Guilty, sir,” the maid said.
“Ask the count for me.”
The count, waddling over, approached his wife with a somewhat guilty look, as always.
“Well, countess!” what a sauté au madère 1 of the grouse will be, ma chère! I tried; not without reason I gave a thousand rubles for Tarascu. Worth it!
He sat beside his wife, elbowing his young hands on his knees and ruffling gray hair.
“What do you want, Countess?”
- Here's what, my friend, - what is it that you have gotten soiled here? She said, pointing to the vest. “It's a saute, right,” she added, smiling. “That's what, Count: I need money.”
Her face became sad.
“Ah, countess! ..” And the count fussed, taking out his wallet.
“I need a lot, Count, I need five hundred rubles.” - And she, taking out a cambric shawl, rubbed her husband’s vest with them.
- Now. Hey who is there He shouted in a voice that only people shout, convinced that those whom they cry would headlong rush to their call. - Send me to Mitenka!
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Mitenka, that noble son, brought up by the count, who now was in charge of all his affairs, quietly walked into the room.
“That's what, my dear,” said the count to the respectful young man who had entered. “Bring me ...” He thought. - Yes, seven hundred rubles, yes. Yes, look, torn and dirty, like that time, do not bring, but good ones, for the countess.
“Yes, Mitya, please, so that they are clean,” said the countess, sighing sadly.
“Your Excellency, when do you order to deliver? - said Mitenka. “Please know that ... However, do not be so kind as to worry,” he added, noticing how the count had already begun to breathe heavily and often, which was always a sign of anger beginning. - I was and forgot ... Will you order this minute to deliver?
- Yes, yes, bring it. Here give the countess.
“What kind of gold do I have this Mitenka,” the count added, smiling when the young man came out. - Not that it is impossible. I can’t stand it. Everything is possible.
- Ah, money, count, money, how much grief they have in the world! Said the countess. - And I really need this money.
“You, countess, are a well-known winder,” said the count, and kissing his wife's hand, he went back to his office.
When Anna Mikhailovna returned again from Bezukhov, the countess already had money, all in brand new pieces of paper, under a scarf on a table, and Anna Mikhailovna noticed that the countess was disturbed by something.
“Well then, my friend?” The countess asked.
“Ah, what a terrible situation he is in!” You can’t recognize him, he’s so bad, so bad: I stayed a minute and did not say two words ...
“Annette, for God's sake, do not refuse me,” the countess said suddenly, blushing, what was so strange with her middle-aged, thin and important face, taking money from her scarf.
Anna Mikhailovna instantly understood what was happening, and she bent down so that she could deftly hug the countess in due time.
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- Here is Boris from me, for sewing a uniform ...
Anna Mikhailovna already hugged her and cried. The countess cried too. They cried that they were friendly; and that they are kind; and that they, girlfriends of youth, are occupied with such a low subject - money; and that their youth had passed ... But the tears of both were pleasant.

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Countess Rostova with her daughters and already with a large number of guests was sitting in the living room. The Earl led the male guests into the study, offering them his hunting collection of Turkish pipes. Occasionally he would go out and ask: didn’t he come? They were waiting for Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, nicknamed in the society le terrible dragon 1, a lady famous not for wealth, not for honors, but for her direct mind and frank simplicity of appeal. Marya Dmitrievna knew the royal family, knew all of Moscow and all of Petersburg, and both cities, surprised at her, secretly laughed at her rudeness, told jokes about her; Nevertheless, without exception, everyone respected and feared her.
In the office, full of smoke, there was talk of war, which was declared a manifesto, of recruitment. No one has read the manifesto yet, but everyone knew about its appearance. The count sat on an ottoman between two smokers and talking neighbors. The count himself did not smoke and did not speak, but, tilting his head now on one side, then on the other, with apparent pleasure looked at the smokers and listened to the conversation of his two neighbors, whom he pitted among themselves.
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One of the speakers was a civilian, with a wrinkled, gall and shaved, thin face, a man who was already approaching old age, although he was dressed as the most fashionable young man; he sat with his legs on the ottoman with the appearance of a domestic man, and, sideways, throwing amber into his mouth, pulled in a gust of smoke and squinted. It was an old bachelor Shinshin, a cousin of the countess, an evil tongue, as they said about him in Moscow living rooms. He seemed to be condescending to his interlocutor. Another fresh, pink guard officer, spotlessly washed, buttoned and combed, held amber in the middle of his mouth and gently pulled the haze with his pink lips, releasing it from the beautiful mouth with ringlets. It was that lieutenant Berg, an officer of the Semenovsky regiment, with whom Boris was traveling together in the regiment and with whom Natasha teased Vera, the senior countess, calling Berg her fiancé. The count sat between them and listened attentively. The earliest enjoyment for the count, with the exception of the Boston game, which he loved very much, was the listening position, especially when he managed to pit two talkative interlocutors.
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La balance y est ... 4 A German threshes a loaf of bread on a butt, comme dit le proverbe 5, - shifting amber to the other side of his mouth, Shinshin said and winked at the count.
The count burst out laughing. Other guests, seeing that Chinshin was talking, came to listen. Berg, not noticing neither ridicule nor indifference, continued to talk about how, by transferring to the guard, he had already won the rank before his comrades in the corps, how they could kill a company commander in wartime and, remaining senior in the company, it could very easily be a company and how everyone in the regiment loves him, and how his daddy is pleased with him. Berg, apparently, enjoyed telling all this, and, it seemed, did not suspect that other people could have their own interests too. But everything he told was so sweet, sedate, the naivety of his young egoism was so obvious that he disarmed his listeners.
- Well, father, you are in the infantry and cavalry, everywhere you go to move; I predict this for you, ”said Shinshin, patting him on the shoulder and lowering his legs from the ottoman.
Berg smiled happily. Earl, and after him the guests went into the living room.
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There was a time before the dinner party when the guests gathered did not start a long conversation in anticipation of a call for a snack, but at the same time considered it necessary to move and not be silent in order to show that they were not at all impatient to sit down at the table. The owners glance at the door and occasionally glance at each other. The guests from these views try to guess who or what else they are waiting for: an important late relative or a meal that has not yet ripened.
Pierre arrived just before dinner and sat awkwardly in the middle of the living room on the first armchair that came across, blocking the way for everyone. The countess wanted to make him speak, but he naively looked into the glasses around him, as if looking for someone, and answered monosyllabically all the questions of the countess. He was shy and alone did not notice it. Most of the guests, who knew his story with the bear, looked curiously at this large, fat and meek man, wondering how such a laziness and a modest man could do such a thing with a quarter.
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Oui, madame 6, he answered, looking around.
“Have you seen my husband?”
“Non, madame 7,” he smiled quite inappropriately.
“You seem to have been to Paris recently?” I think it’s very interesting.
- Very interesting.
The countess exchanged a glance with Anna Mikhailovna. Anna Mikhailovna realized that she was being asked to take this young man, and, having sat down to him, began to talk about her father; but just like the countess, he answered her only in monosyllables. The guests were all busy among themselves.
- Les Razoumovsky ... Ça a été charmant ... Vous êtes bien bonne ... La comtesse Apraksine ... 8 - was heard from all sides. The countess got up and went into the hall.
- Marya Dmitrievna? - heard her voice from the hall.
“She herself,” a gruff female voice was heard in reply, and after that Marya Dmitrievna entered the room.
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Well, what, my Cossack? (Marya Dmitrievna called Natasha a Cossack), she said, caressing Natasha, who approached her hand without fear and cheerfully. - I know that the potion is a girl, but I love.
She took the yachting earrings from the huge reticule into pears and, giving them to Natasha's name-shining and reddened, she immediately turned away from her and turned to Pierre.
- Uh, uh! kind! come here, ”she said in a mockingly quiet and subtle voice. - Come on, my dear ...
And she menacingly rolled up her sleeves even higher.
Pierre came up, looking naively at her through the glasses.
- Come, come, my dear! I told your father alone the truth when he was in the case, and God tells you something.
She was silent for a moment. Everyone was silent, waiting for what would happen, and feeling that there was only a preface.
“Good, nothing to say!” a good boy! .. Father is lying on his bed, and he is amusing himself, he is riding a quarter on a bear. I am ashamed, father, ashamed! It would be better to go to war.
She turned away and offered her hand to the count, who could hardly resist laughing.
- Well, well, to the table, I'm tea, it's time? Said Marya Dmitrievna.
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Ahead went the count with Marya Dmitrievna; then the countess, led by a hussar colonel, the right person, with whom Nikolai had to catch up with the regiment. Anna Mikhailovna - with Shinshin. Berg gave Vera a hand. Smiling Julie Karagin went with Nikolai to the table. They were followed by other couples, stretching across the hall, and behind each one, children, tutors and governesses. The waiters began to stir, the chairs thundered, music played in the choirs, and the guests were accommodated. The sounds of the Count's home music were replaced by the sounds of knives and forks, the guests' talk, the quiet steps of the waiters. At one end of the table at the head was the countess. On the right is Marya Dmitrievna, on the left is Anna Mikhailovna and other guests. On the other end sat a count, a hussar colonel on the left, Shinshin on the right and other male guests. On one side of the long table, older youth are: Vera next to Berg, Pierre next to Boris; on the other hand, children, tutors, and governesses. The count, from behind crystal glass, bottles and a vase of fruit, glanced at his wife and her tall cap with blue ribbons and diligently poured wine to his neighbors, not forgetting himself. The countess also, because of pineapples, not forgetting the duties of the hostess, threw significant glances at her husband, whose bald head and face, it seemed to her, were sharper in their redness than gray hair. On the ladies end there was a uniform babble; voices were heard louder and louder on the man’s
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Berg spoke with Faith with a tender smile that love is not heavenly, but heavenly. Boris called his new friend Pierre the former guests at the table and exchanged glances with Natasha, who was sitting against him. Pierre spoke little, looked around for new faces and ate a lot. Starting from two soups, from which he chose à la tortue 9, and coulibiacs to grouse, he did not miss a single dish or a single wine, which the butler mysteriously protruded from a neighbor’s shoulder over a neighbor’s shoulder, saying: or “dreimadera” ”, Or“ Hungarian, ”or“ rainwine. ” He substituted the first one of the four crystal, with the monogram of the count, glasses that stood in front of each device, and drank with pleasure, looking more and more pleasantly at the guests. Natasha, who was sitting against him, was looking at Boris, as the girls of thirteen years were looking at the boy with whom they had just kissed for the first time and with whom they were in love. This very look of her sometimes turned to Pierre, and under the look of this funny, lively girl he wanted to laugh himself, not knowing what.
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Nikolai sat far from Sonya, beside Julie Karagina, and again with the same involuntary smile, spoke to her. Sonya smiled smartly, but apparently was tormented by jealousy: now she turned pale, now blushed and listened with all her might to what Nikolai and Julie were saying to each other. The governess looked around uneasily, as if preparing for a rebuff, if anyone had the intention to offend the children. The German teller tried to remember all kinds of dishes, desserts and wines in order to describe everything in detail in letters to his family in Germany, and was very offended by the fact that the butler wrapped it in a bottle wrapped in a napkin. The German frowned, tried to show the appearance that he did not want to get this wine, but was offended because no one wanted to understand that he did not need the wine in order to quench his thirst, not out of greed, but out of bona fide curiosity.
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At home I found snowdrifts and twenty-degree frost. I love winter, I love, because at this time at home, even in the bitter frosts, I felt especially warm. It's nice to put on a fur coat and boots, on a clear frosty day, to do something in the garden or in the yard, or to read in your own hotly heated room, to sit in your father’s office in front of the fireplace, to wash in your village bathhouse ... Only now, if not in the house of a mother, sister or children, it’s somehow creepy on winter evenings, and they seem unusually long and quiet. And the warmer and more comfortable, the stronger this absence is felt. That winter, when I returned from abroad, the evenings were long, long, I was very homesick and could not even read from longing; in the afternoon still back and forth, you will clean the snow in the garden, then you will feed the hens and calves, and in the evenings - even disappear.
Before, I didn’t like guests, now I’m glad to see them, because I knew that there would certainly be a conversation about Ariadne. Spirit Kotlovich often came to talk about his sister, and sometimes he brought with him his friend Prince Maktuev, who was in love with Ariadne no less than mine. Sitting in Ariadne’s room, fingering the keys of her piano, looking at her notes was already a necessity for the prince, he could not live without it, and the spirit of Grandfather Hilarion continued to predict that sooner or later she would be his wife. Usually the prince sat for a long time, from breakfast to midnight, and he was silent; silently drank bottles of two or three beers, and only occasionally to show that he was also participating in the conversation, laughing in a jerky, sad, silly laugh. Before leaving home, he always took me aside and said in an undertone:
- When was the last time you saw Ariadne Grigoryevna? Is she healthy? I think she’s not bored there?
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At the male end of the table, the conversation grew more and more lively. The colonel said that the manifesto on declaring war had already been issued in St. Petersburg and that the copy that he himself had seen had been delivered by courier to the commander in chief.
“And why is it not easy for us to fight with Bonaparte?” - said Shinshin. - Il a déjà rabattu le caquet à l'Autriche. Je crains que cette fois ce ne soit notre tour 1.
The colonel was a stout, tall and sanguine German, apparently a servant and patriot. He was offended by the words of Shinshin.
“And zatam, a soapy sovereign,” he said, pronouncing e instead of e and b instead of b. - Zatam, that the emperor knows. He in the manifesto said that ne mozhet looks indifferent at the dangers threatening Russia, that the security of the empire, its dignity and the sanctity of unions, ”he said, for some reason especially leaning on the word“ unions ”, as if that was the essence of the matter.
And with his characteristic infallible, official memory, he repeated the opening speech of the manifesto: “and the sovereign’s desire, the sole and indispensable goal of which is to establish peace in Europe on solid foundations — they now decided to move part of the army abroad and make new efforts to achieve this intention” .
“Here is the reason, the soapy sovereign,” he concluded edifyingly, drinking a glass of wine and looking back at the count for encouragement.
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to you in memory of yesterday’s meeting; deign to accept. " She opened, looked, grinned: “Thank, says, your friend Mr. Rogozhin for his kind attention,” she bowed and left. Well, that’s why I didn’t die here then! Yes, even if he went, because he thought: “Anyway, I won’t return alive!” And it seemed to me most offensive that this beast Zalezhev had taken over everything. I’m both small and dressed like a lackey, and I stand, silent, I stare at her, that’s embarrassing, and he is fashionable, in lipstick and curled, ruddy, checkered necktie - and it crumbles, and it’s opened up, and so probably she took him here instead of me! “Well, I say, how did we get out, now you don’t dare to think here, you understand!” Laughs: “But will you somehow give a report to Semyon Parfenych now?” I really wanted to go into the water at the same time, I’m not going home, but I think, “It’s all the same anyway,” and he cursed back home.
- Oh! Wow - the official was curving, and even a trembling made his way through it, - and the dead man wasn’t squeezing for ten thousand rubles, ”he nodded to the prince. The prince examined Rogozhin with curiosity; he seemed even paler at that moment.

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