Texts
Book 8 References
The prince had aged very much that year. He showed marked signs of senility by a tendency to fall asleep, forgetfulness of quite recent events, remembrance of remote ones, and the childish vanity with which he accepted the role of head of the Moscow opposition. In spite of this the old man inspired in all his visitors alike a feeling of respectful veneration—especially of an evening when he came in to tea in his old-fashioned coat and powdered wig and, aroused by anyone, told his abrupt stories of the past, or uttered yet more abrupt and scathing criticisms of the present. For them all, that old-fashioned house with its gigantic mirrors, pre-Revolution furniture, powdered footmen, and the stern shrewd old man (himself a relic of the past century) with his gentle daughter and the pretty Frenchwoman who were reverently devoted to him presented a majestic and agreeable spectacle.
But the visitors did not reflect that besides the couple of hours during which they saw their host, there were also twenty-two hours in the day during which the private and intimate life of the house continued.
She did not go out into society; everyone knew that her father would not let her go anywhere without him, and his failing health prevented his going out himself, so that she was not invited to dinners and evening parties. She had quite abandoned the hope of getting married.
She saw the coldness and malevolence with which the old prince received and dismissed the young men, possible suitors, who sometimes appeared at their house. She had no friends
The idea that at the first moment of receiving the news of his son’s intentions had occurred to him in jest—that if Andrew got married he himself would marry Bourienne—had evidently pleased him
One day in Moscow in Princess Mary’s presence (she thought her father did it purposely when she was there) the old prince kissed Mademoiselle Bourienne’s hand and, drawing her to him, embraced her affectionately. Princess Mary flushed and ran out of the room.
It’s horrible, vile, inhuman, to take advantage of the weakness...
At such moments something like a pride of sacrifice gathered in her soul. And suddenly that father whom she had judged would look for his spectacles in her presence, fumbling near them and not seeing them, or would forget something that had just occurred, or take a false step with his failing legs and turn to see if anyone had noticed his feebleness, or, worst of all, at dinner when there were no visitors to excite him would suddenly fall asleep, letting his napkin drop and his shaking head sink over his plate. He is old and feeble, and I dare to condemn him! she thought at such moments, with a feeling of revulsion against herself.
They can’t help liking me, she thought. Everybody always has liked me, and I am so willing to do anything they wish, so ready to be fond of him—for being his father—and of her—for being his sister—that there is no reason for them not to like me....
The Private and Intimate Life of the House
Featured Characters: BOLKONSKY, MARY, NATASHA
[BOLKONSKY]
I’ve aged
I’ve aged so very much
I fall asleep at the table
My napkin drops to the
floor
[BOLKONSKY]
I’m full of childish vanities
I forget things
And I live in the past
I’ve aged so very much
People enjoy me
though
I come in for tea in my old-fashioned coat and powdered wig
And I tell stories
And utter scathing critiques
This stern, shrewd old man
A relic of the past
century
With his gentle daughter
Such a majestic and agreeable spectacle
[MARY]
But besides the couple of hours during which we have
guests
There are also twenty-two hours in the day
During which the
private and intimate life of the house continues
[BOLKONSKY]
Bring my me slippers
[MARY]
Yes father, yes father
[BOLKONSKY]
Bring me my wine
[MARY]
Yes father, yes father
[BOLKONSKY]
If you’re not too busy
Fiddling with
your incense and icons?
[MARY]
No father, no father
And I have no friends
No, never go anywhere
Never invited
For who
would take care of him
[BOLKONSKY]
I can hurt you
[MARY, BOLKONSKY]
I can hurt you
[MARY]
But I never ever ever ever would
No
father
I love you father
[MARY]
And time moves on
And my fate slips
past
And nothing ever happens to me
And Countess Natalya Rostova is
coming for tea
[NATASHA]
I know they’ll like me
Everyone has always liked
me
[BOLKONSKY]
Natasha is young
And worthless and dumb
[MARY]
And time moves on
And my fate slips
past
Is this all I’ll make of my life?
Will I never be happy?
Will I never be anyone’s wife?
[BOLKONSKY]
Ah, what’s this? A young suitor?
Ah, come in, come
in
But don’t sit down, don’t sit down
I’m cold to you
Yes I’m
mean to you
Now be gone, be gone be gone!
And don’t come
back!
Oh, maybe I’ll marry someone myself
Some cheap
French thing
Oh that offends you does it?
Ah, come in my dear
Come in my
dear, come in
[MARY]
And he draws her to him
And he kisses her hand
Embraces her affectionately
And I flush and run out of the room
[BOLKONSKY]
Come back here
Let an old man have his fun
[MARY]
But she’s just using you papa
Wants your
money papa!
To take advantage of your weakness like that
It’s
disgusting
My voice breaks
[BOLKONSKY]
It’s my money and I’ll throw it where I
want
Not at you!
And not at Andrey’s harlot!
Insolent
girl!
Insolent girl!
Where—
Where—
Where are my
glasses?
Where are they?
Where are my glasses?
Oh God—
Oh
God I’m frightened
Oh God I’ve aged so very much
Where are my
glasses?
Where are my glasses?
[MARY]
They are there upon his head
The pride of sacrifice
Gathers in my soul
And he forgets things
He falls asleep at the table
His napkin drops to the
floor
His shaking head
Sinks over his plate
He is old and feeble
And I dare to judge him
I disgust
myself
I disgust myself