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Chapter 9 - Pierre at Anatole Kuragin’s. Dolokhov’s bet
It was past one o’clock when Pierre left his friend. It was a cloudless, northern, summer night. Pierre took an open cab intending to drive straight home. But the nearer he drew to the house the more he felt the impossibility of going to sleep on such a night. It was light enough to see a long way in the deserted1 street and it seemed more like morning or evening than night. On the way Pierre remembered that Anatole Kuragin was expecting the usual set for cards that evening, after which there was generally a drinking bout2, finishing with visits of a kind Pierre was very fond of.
“I should like to go to Kuragin’s,” thought he.
But he immediately recalled his promise to Prince Andrey not to go there. Then, as happens to people of weak character, he desired so passionately3 once more to enjoy that dissipation he was so accustomed to that he decided4 to go. The thought immediately occurred to him that his promise to Prince Andrey was of no account, because before he gave it he had already promised Prince Anatole to come to his gathering5; “besides,” thought he, “all such ‘words of honor’ are conventional things with no definite meaning, especially if one considers that by tomorrow one may be dead, or something so extraordinary may happen to one that honor and dishonor will be all the same!” Pierre often indulged in reflections of this sort, nullifying all his decisions and intentions. He went to Kuragin’s.
Reaching the large house near the Horse Guards’ barracks, in which Anatole lived, Pierre entered the lighted porch, ascended6 the stairs, and went in at the open door. There was no one in the anteroom; empty bottles, cloaks, and overshoes were lying about; there was a smell of alcohol, and sounds of voices and shouting in the distance.
Cards and supper were over, but the visitors had not yet dispersed7. Pierre threw off his cloak and entered the first room, in which were the remains8 of supper. A footman, thinking no one saw him, was drinking on the sly what was left in the glasses. From the third room came sounds of laughter, the shouting of familiar voices, the growling9 of a bear, and general commotion10. Some eight or nine young men were crowding anxiously round an open window. Three others were romping11 with a young bear, one pulling him by the chain and trying to set him at the others.
“I bet a hundred on Stevens!” shouted one.
“Mind, no holding on!” cried another.
“I bet on Dolokhov!” cried a third. “Kuragin, you part our hands.”
“There, leave Bruin alone; here’s a bet on.”
“Jacob, bring a bottle!” shouted the host, a tall, handsome fellow who stood in the midst of the group, without a coat, and with his fine linen13 shirt unfastened in front. “Wait a bit, you fellows. . . . Here is Petya! Good man!” cried he, addressing Pierre.
Another voice, from a man of medium height with clear blue eyes, particularly striking among all these drunken voices by its sober ring, cried from the window: “Come here; part the bets!” This was Dolokhov, an officer of the Semenov regiment14, a notorious gambler and duelist, who was living with Anatole. Pierre smiled, looking about him merrily.
“I don’t understand. What’s it all about?”
“Wait a bit, he is not drunk yet! A bottle here,” said Anatole, taking a glass from the table he went up to Pierre.
“First of all you must drink!”
Pierre drank one glass after another, looking from under his brows at the tipsy guests who were again crowding round the window, and listening to their chatter15. Anatole kept on refilling Pierre’s glass while explaining that Dolokhov was betting with Stevens, an English naval16 officer, that he would drink a bottle of rum sitting on the outer ledge17 of the third floor window with his legs hanging out.
“Go on, you must drink it all,” said Anatole, giving Pierre the last glass, “or I won’t let you go!”
“No, I won’t,” said Pierre, pushing Anatole aside, and he went up to the window.
Dolokhov was holding the Englishman’s hand and clearly and distinctly repeating the terms of the bet, addressing himself particularly to Anatole and Pierre.
Dolokhov was of medium height, with curly hair and light-blue eyes. He was about twenty-five. Like all infantry18 officers he wore no mustache, so that his mouth, the most striking feature of his face, was clearly seen. The lines of that mouth were remarkably19 finely curved. The middle of the upper lip formed a sharp wedge and closed firmly on the firm lower one, and something like two distinct smiles played continually round the two corners of the mouth; this, together with the resolute20, insolent21 intelligence of his eyes, produced an effect which made it impossible not to notice his face. Dolokhov was a man of small means and no connections. Yet, though Anatole spent tens of thousands of rubles, Dolokhov lived with him and had placed himself on such a footing that all who knew them, including Anatole himself, respected him more than they did Anatole. Dolokhov could play all games and nearly always won. However much he drank, he never lost his clearheadedness. Both Kuragin and Dolokhov were at that time notorious among the rakes and scapegraces of Petersburg.
The bottle of rum was brought. The window frame which prevented anyone from sitting on the outer sill was being forced out by two footmen, who were evidently flurried and intimidated22 by the directions and shouts of the gentlemen around.
Anatole with his swaggering air strode up to the window. He wanted to smash something. Pushing away the footmen he tugged23 at the frame, but could not move it. He smashed a pane24.
“You have a try, Hercules,” said he, turning to Pierre.
“Take it right out, or they’ll think I’m holding on,” said Dolokhov.
“First-rate,” said Pierre, looking at Dolokhov, who with a bottle of rum in his hand was approaching the window, from which the light of the sky, the dawn merging27 with the afterglow of sunset, was visible.
Dolokhov, the bottle of rum still in his hand, jumped onto the window sill. “Listen!” cried he, standing28 there and addressing those in the room. All were silent.
“I bet fifty imperials”— he spoke29 French that the Englishman might understand him, but he did, not speak it very well — “I bet fifty imperials . . . or do you wish to make it a hundred?” added he, addressing the Englishman.
“No, fifty,” replied the latter.
“All right. Fifty imperials . . . that I will drink a whole bottle of rum without taking it from my mouth, sitting outside the window on this spot” (he stooped and pointed30 to the sloping ledge outside the window) “and without holding on to anything. Is that right?”
“Quite right,” said the Englishman.
Anatole turned to the Englishman and taking him by one of the buttons of his coat and looking down at him — the Englishman was short — began repeating the terms of the wager31 to him in English.
“Wait!” cried Dolokhov, hammering with the bottle on the window sill to attract attention. “Wait a bit, Kuragin. Listen! If anyone else does the same, I will pay him a hundred imperials. Do you understand?”
The Englishman nodded, but gave no indication whether he intended to accept this challenge or not. Anatole did not release him, and though he kept nodding to show that he understood, Anatole went on translating Dolokhov’s words into English. A thin young lad, an hussar of the Life Guards, who had been losing that evening, climbed on the window sill, leaned over, and looked down.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” he muttered, looking down from the window at the stones of the pavement.
“Shut up!” cried Dolokhov, pushing him away from the window. The lad jumped awkwardly back into the room, tripping over his spurs.
Placing the bottle on the window sill where he could reach it easily, Dolokhov climbed carefully and slowly through the window and lowered his legs. Pressing against both sides of the window, he adjusted himself on his seat, lowered his hands, moved a little to the right and then to the left, and took up the bottle. Anatole brought two candles and placed them on the window sill, though it was already quite light. Dolokhov’s back in his white shirt, and his curly head, were lit up from both sides. Everyone crowded to the window, the Englishman in front. Pierre stood smiling but silent. One man, older than the others present, suddenly pushed forward with a scared and angry look and wanted to seize hold of Dolokhov’s shirt.
Anatole stopped him.
“Don’t touch him! You’ll startle him and then he’ll be killed. Eh? . . . What then? . . . Eh?”
Dolokhov turned round and, again holding on with both hands, arranged himself on his seat.
“If anyone comes meddling33 again,” said he, emitting the words separately through his thin compressed lips, “I will throw him down there. Now then!”
Saying this he again turned round, dropped his hands, took the bottle and lifted it to his lips, threw back his head, and raised his free hand to balance himself. One of the footmen who had stooped to pick up some broken glass remained in that position without taking his eyes from the window and from Dolokhov’s back. Anatole stood erect34 with staring eyes. The Englishman looked on sideways, pursing up his lips. The man who had wished to stop the affair ran to a corner of the room and threw himself on a sofa with his face to the wall. Pierre hid his face, from which a faint smile forgot to fade though his features now expressed horror and fear. All were still. Pierre took his hands from his eyes. Dolokhov still sat in the same position, only his head was thrown further back till his curly hair touched his shirt collar, and the hand holding the bottle was lifted higher and higher and trembled with the effort. The bottle was emptying perceptibly and rising still higher and his head tilting35 yet further back. “Why is it so long?” thought Pierre. It seemed to him that more than half an hour had elapsed. Suddenly Dolokhov made a backward movement with his spine36, and his arm trembled nervously37; this was sufficient to cause his whole body to slip as he sat on the sloping ledge. As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered still more with the strain. One hand moved as if to clutch the window sill, but refrained from touching38 it. Pierre again covered his eyes and thought he would never never them again. Suddenly he was aware of a stir all around. He looked up: Dolokhov was standing on the window sill, with a pale but radiant face.
“It’s empty.”
He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who caught it neatly39. Dolokhov jumped down. He smelt40 strongly of rum.
“Well done! . . . Fine fellow! . . . There’s a bet for you! . . . Devil take you!” came from different sides.
The Englishman took out his purse and began counting out the money. Dolokhov stood frowning and did not speak. Pierre jumped upon the window sill.
“Gentlemen, who wishes to bet with me? I’ll do the same thing!” he suddenly cried. “Even without a bet, there! Tell them to bring me a bottle. I’ll do it. . . . Bring a bottle!”
“Let him do it, let him do it,” said Dolokhov, smiling.
“What next? Have you gone mad? . . . No one would let you! . . . Why, you go giddy even on a staircase,” exclaimed several voices.
“I’ll drink it! Let’s have a bottle of rum!” shouted Pierre, banging the table with a determined41 and drunken gesture and preparing to climb out of the window.
They seized him by his arms; but he was so strong that everyone who touched him was sent flying.
“No, you’ll never manage him that way,” said Anatole. “Wait a bit and I’ll get round him. . . . Listen! I’ll take your bet tomorrow, but now we are all going to —‘s.”
“Come on then,” cried Pierre. “Come on! . . . And we’ll take Bruin with us.”
And he caught the bear, took it in his arms, lifted it from the ground, and began dancing round the room with it.
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1
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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2
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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3
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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4
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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5
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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6
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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8
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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9
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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10
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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11
romping
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| adj.嬉戏喧闹的，乱蹦乱闹的v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的现在分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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12
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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13
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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14
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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15
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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16
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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17
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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18
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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19
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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20
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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21
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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22
intimidated
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| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
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23
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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25
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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26
bragging
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的现在分词 )；大话 | |
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27
merging
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| 合并（分类） | |
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28
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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29
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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30
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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31
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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32
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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33
meddling
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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34
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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35
tilting
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| 倾斜，倾卸 | |
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36
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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37
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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38
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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39
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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40
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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41
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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