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Chapter 15 - Sónya finds Anatole’s letter
On returning late in the evening Sonya went to Natasha’s room, and to her surprise found her still dressed and asleep on the sofa. Open on the table, beside her lay Anatole’s letter. Sonya picked it up and read it.
As she read she glanced at the sleeping Natasha, trying to find in her face an explanation of what she was reading, but did not find it. Her face was calm, gentle, and happy. Clutching her breast to keep herself from choking, Sonya, pale and trembling with fear and agitation1, sat down in an armchair and burst into tears.
“How was it I noticed nothing? How could it go so far? Can she have left off loving Prince Andrey? And how could she let Kuragin go to such lengths? He is a deceiver and a villain2, that’s plain! What will Nikolai, dear noble Nikolai, do when he hears of it? So this is the meaning of her excited, resolute3, unnatural4 look the day before yesterday, yesterday, and today,” thought Sonya. “But it can’t be that she loves him! She probably opened the letter without knowing who it was from. Probably she is offended by it. She could not do such a thing!”
Sonya wiped away her tears and went up to Natasha, again scanning her face.
“Natasha!” she said, just audibly.
Natasha awoke and saw Sonya.
“Ah, you’re back?”
And with the decision and tenderness that often come at the moment of awakening5, she embraced her friend, but noticing Sonya’s look of embarrassment6, her own face expressed confusion and suspicion.
“Sonya, you’ve read that letter?” she demanded.
“Yes,” answered Sonya softly.
Natasha smiled rapturously.
“No, Sonya, I can’t any longer!” she said. “I can’t hide it from you any longer. You know, we love one another! Sonya, darling, he writes . . . Sonya . . . ”
Sonya stared open-eyed at Natasha, unable to believe her ears.
“And Bolkonsky?” she asked.
“Ah, Sonya, if you only knew how happy I am!” cried Natasha. “You don’t know what love is. . . . ”
“But, Natasha, can that be all over?”
Natasha looked at Sonya with wide-open eyes as if she could not grasp the question.
“Well, then, are you refusing Prince Andrey?” said Sonya.
“Oh, you don’t understand anything! Don’t talk nonsense, just listen!” said Natasha, with momentary7 vexation.
“But I can’t believe it,” insisted Sonya. “I don’t understand. How is it you have loved a man for a whole year and suddenly . . . Why, you have only seen him three times! Natasha, I don’t believe you, you’re joking! In three days to forget everything and so . . . ”
“Three days?” said Natasha. “It seems to me I’ve loved him a hundred years. It seems to me that I have never loved anyone before. You can’t understand it. . . . Sonya, wait a bit, sit here,” and Natasha embraced and kissed her.
“I had heard that it happens like this, and you must have heard it too, but it’s only now that I feel such love. It’s not the same as before. As soon as I saw him I felt he was my master and I his slave, and that I could not help loving him. Yes, his slave! Whatever he orders I shall do. You don’t understand that. What can I do? What can I do, Sonya?” cried Natasha with a happy yet frightened expression.
“But think what you are doing,” cried Sonya. “I can’t leave it like this. This secret correspondence . . . How could you let him go so far?” she went on, with a horror and disgust she could hardly conceal8.
“I told you that I have no will,” Natasha replied. “Why can’t you understand? I love him!”
“Then I won’t let it come to that . . . I shall tell!” cried Sonya, bursting into tears.
“What do you mean? For God’s sake . . . If you tell, you are my enemy!” declared Natasha. “You want me to be miserable9, you want us to be separated. . . . ”
When she saw Natasha’s fright, Sonya shed tears of shame and pity for her friend.
“But what has happened between you?” she asked. “What has he said to you? Why doesn’t he come to the house?”
Natasha did not answer her questions.
“For God’s sake, Sonya, don’t tell anyone, don’t torture me,” Natasha entreated10. “Remember no one ought to interfere11 in such matters! I have confided12 in you. . . . ”
“But why this secrecy13? Why doesn’t he come to the house?” asked Sonya. “Why doesn’t he openly ask for your hand? You know Prince Andrey gave you complete freedom — if it is really so; but I don’t believe it! Natasha, have you considered what these secret reasons can be?”
Natasha looked at Sonya with astonishment14. Evidently this question presented itself to her mind for the first time and she did not know how to answer it.
“I don’t know what the reasons are. But there must be reasons!”
Sonya sighed and shook her head incredulously.
“If there were reasons . . . ” she began.
But Natasha, guessing her doubts, interrupted her in alarm.
“Sonya, one can’t doubt him! One can’t, one can’t! Don’t you understand?” she cried.
“Does he love you?”
“Does he love me?” Natasha repeated with a smile of pity at her friend’s lack of comprehension. “Why, you have read his letter and you have seen him.”
“But if he is dishonorable?”
“He! dishonorable? If you only knew!” exclaimed Natasha.
“If he is an honorable man he should either declare his intentions or cease seeing you; and if you won’t do this, I will. I will write to him, and I will tell Papa!” said Sonya resolutely15.
“But I can’t live without him!” cried Natasha.
“Natasha, I don’t understand you. And what are you saying! Think of your father and of Nikolai.”
“I don’t want anyone, I don’t love anyone but him. How dare you say he is dishonorable? Don’t you know that I love him?” screamed Natasha. “Go away, Sonya! I don’t want to quarrel with you, but go, for God’s sake go! You see how I am suffering!” Natasha cried angrily, in a voice of despair and repressed irritation16. Sonya burst into sobs17 and ran from the room.
Natasha went to the table and without a moment’s reflection wrote that answer to Princess Marya which she had been unable to write all the morning. In this letter she said briefly18 that all their misunderstandings were at an end; that availing herself of the magnanimity of Prince Andrey who when he went abroad had given her her she begged Princess Marya to forget everything and forgive her if she had been to blame toward her, but that she could not be his wife. At that moment this all seemed quite easy, simple, and clear to Natasha.
On Friday the Rostovs were to return to the country, but on Wednesday the count went with the prospective19 purchaser to his estate near Moscow.
On the day the count left, Sonya and Natasha were invited to a big dinner party at the Karagins’, and Marya Dmitrievna took them there. At that party Natasha again met Anatole, and Sonya noticed that she spoke20 to him, trying not to be overheard, and that all through dinner she was more agitated21 than ever. When they got home Natasha was the first to begin the explanation Sonya expected.
“There, Sonya, you were talking all sorts of nonsense about him,” Natasha began in a mild voice such as children use when they wish to be praised. “We have had an explanation today.”
“Well, what happened? What did he say? Natasha, how glad I am you’re not angry with me! Tell me everything — the whole truth. What did he say?”
Natasha became thoughtful.
“Oh, Sonya, if you knew him as I do! He said . . . He asked me what I had promised Bolkonsky. He was glad I was free to refuse him.”
Sonya sighed sorrowfully.
“But you haven’t refused Bolkonsky?” said she.
“Perhaps I have. Perhaps all is over between me and Bolkonsky. Why do you think so badly of me?”
“I don’t think anything, only I don’t understand this . . . ”
“Wait a bit, Sonya, you’ll understand everything. You’ll see what a man he is! Now don’t think badly of me or of him. I don’t think badly of anyone: I love and pity everybody. But what am I to do?”
Sonya did not succumb22 to the tender tone Natasha used toward her. The more emotional and ingratiating the expression of Natasha’s face became, the more serious and stern grew Sonya’s.
“Natasha,” said she, “you asked me not to speak to you, and I haven’t spoken, but now you yourself have begun. I don’t trust him, Natasha. Why this secrecy?”
“Again, again!” interrupted Natasha.
“Natasha, I am afraid for you!”
“Afraid of what?”
“I am afraid you’re going to your ruin,” said Sonya resolutely, and was herself horrified23 at what she had said.
Anger again showed in Natasha’s face.
“And I’ll go to my ruin, I will, as soon as possible! It’s not your business! It won’t be you, but I, who’ll suffer. Leave me alone, leave me alone! I hate you!”
Natasha!” moaned Sonya, aghast.
“I hate you, I hate you! You’re my enemy forever!” And Natasha ran out of the room.
Natasha did not speak to Sonya again and avoided her. With the same expression of agitated surprise and guilt24 she went about the house, taking up now one occupation, now another, and at once abandoning them.
Hard as it was for Sonya, she watched her friend and did not let her out of her sight.
The day before the count was to return, Sonya noticed that Natasha sat by the drawingroom window all the morning as if expecting something and that she made a sign to an officer who drove past, whom Sonya took to be Anatole.
Sonya began watching her friend still more attentively25 and noticed that at dinner and all that evening Natasha was in a strange and unnatural state. She answered questions at random26, began sentences she did not finish, and laughed at everything.
After tea Sonya noticed a housemaid at Natasha’s door timidly waiting to let her pass. She let the girl go in, and then listening at the door learned that another letter had been delivered.
Then suddenly it became clear to Sonya that Natasha had some dreadful plan for that evening. Sonya knocked at her door. Natasha did not let her in.
“She will run away with him!” thought Sonya. “She is capable of anything. There was something particularly pathetic and resolute in her face today. She cried as she said good-by to Uncle,” Sonya remembered. “Yes, that’s it, she means to elope with him, but what am I to do?” thought she, recalling all the signs that clearly indicated that Natasha had some terrible intention. “The count is away. What am I to do? Write to Kuragin demanding an explanation? But what is there to oblige him to reply? Write to Pierre, as Prince Andrey asked me to in case of some misfortune? . . . But perhaps she really has already refused Bolkonsky — she sent a letter to Princess Marya yesterday. And Uncle is away. . . . ” To tell Marya Dmitrievna who had such faith in Natasha seemed to Sonya terrible. “Well, anyway,” thought Sonya as she stood in the dark passage, “now or never I must prove that I remember the family’s goodness to me and that I love Nikolai. Yes! If I don’t sleep for three nights I’ll not leave this passage and will hold her back by force and will and not let the family be disgraced,” thought she.
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1
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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2
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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3
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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4
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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5
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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6
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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7
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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8
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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9
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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10
entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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12
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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13
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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14
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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15
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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16
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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17
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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18
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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19
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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20
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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21
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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22
succumb
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| v.屈服，屈从；死 | |
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23
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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24
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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25
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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26
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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