Emma Watson Pussy
War And Peace
war are spying, treachery, and their encouragement, the ruin of a
countrys inhabitants, robbing them or stealing to provision the army,
and fraud and falsehood termed military craft. The habits of the
military class are the absence of freedom, that is, discipline,
idleness, ignorance, cruelty, debauchery, and drunkenness. And in
spite of all this it is the highest class, respected by everyone.
All the kings, except the Chinese, wear military uniforms, and he
who kills most people receives the highest rewards.
"They meet, as we shall meet tomorrow, to murder one another; they
kill and maim tens of thousands, and then have thanksgiving services
for having killed so many people (they even exaggerate the number),
and they announce a victory, supposing that the more people they
have killed the greater their achievement. How does God above look
at them and hear them?" exclaimed Prince Andrew in a shrill,
piercing voice. "Ah, my friend, it has of late become hard for me to
live. I see that I have begun to understand too much. And it doesnt
do for man to taste of the tree of knowledge of good and evil....
Ah, well, its not for long!" he added.
"However, youre sleepy, and its time for me to sleep. Go back to
Gorki!" said Prince Andrew suddenly.
"Oh no!" Pierre replied, looking at Prince Andrew with frightened,
"Go, go! Before a battle one must have ones sleep out," repeated
He came quickly up to Pierre and embraced and kissed him.
"Good-by, be off!" he shouted. "Whether we meet again or not..."
and turning away hurriedly he entered the shed.
It was already dark, and Pierre could not make out whether the
expression of Prince Andrews face was angry or tender.
For some time he stood in silence considering whether he should
follow him or go away. "No, he does not want it!" Pierre concluded.
"And I know that this is our last meeting!" He sighed deeply and
rode back to Gorki.
On re-entering the shed Prince Andrew lay down on a rug, but he
could not sleep.
He closed his eyes. One picture succeeded another in his
imagination. On one of them he dwelt long and joyfully. He vividly
recalled an evening in Petersburg. Natasha with animated and excited
face was telling him how she had gone to look for mushrooms the
previous summer and had lost her way in the big forest. She
incoherently described the depths of the forest, her feelings, and a
talk with a beekeeper she met, and constantly interrupted her story to
say: "No, I cant! Im not telling it right; no, you dont
understand," though he encouraged her by saying that he did
understand, and he really had understood all she wanted to say. But
Natasha was not satisfied with her own words: she felt that they did
not convey the passionately poetic feeling she had experienced that
day and wished to convey. "He was such a delightful old man, and it
was so dark in the forest... and he had such kind... No, I cant
describe it," she had said, flushed and excited. Prince Andrew
smiled now the same happy smile as then when he had looked into her
eyes. "I understood her," he thought. "I not only understood her,
but it was just that inner, spiritual force, that sincerity, that
frankness of soul--that very soul of hers which seemed to be
fettered by her body--it was that soul I loved in her... loved so
strongly and happily..." and suddenly he remembered how his love had
ended. "He did not need anything of that kind. He neither saw nor
understood anything of the sort. He only saw in her a pretty and fresh
young girl, with whom he did not deign to unite his fate. And I?...
and he is still alive and gay!"
Prince Andrew jumped up as if someone had burned him, and again
began pacing up and down in front of the shed.
On August 25, the eve of the battle of Borodino, M. de Beausset,
prefect of the French Emperors palace, arrived at Napoleons quarters
at Valuevo with Colonel Fabvier, the former from Paris and the
latter from Madrid.
Donning his court uniform, M. de Beausset ordered a box he had
brought for the Emperor to be carried before him and entered the first
compartment of Napoleons tent, where he began opening the box while
conversing with Napoleons aides-de-camp who surrounded him.
Fabvier, not entering the tent, remained at the entrance talking
to some generals of his acquaintance.
The Emperor Napoleon had not yet left his
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