Emma Watson Pussy
War And Peace
at the end of it, in front of
the almshouse and the lunatic asylum, could be seen some people in
white and others like them walking singly across the field shouting
One of these was running to cross the path of Count Rostopchins
carriage, and the count himself, his coachman, and his dragoons looked
with vague horror and curiosity at these released lunatics and
especially at the one running toward them.
Swaying from side to side on his long, thin legs in his fluttering
dressing gown, this lunatic was running impetuously, his gaze fixed on
Rostopchin, shouting something in a hoarse voice and making signs to
him to stop. The lunatics solemn, gloomy face was thin and yellow,
with its beard growing in uneven tufts. His black, agate pupils with
saffron-yellow whites moved restlessly near the lower eyelids.
"Stop! Pull up, I tell you!" he cried in a piercing voice, and again
shouted something breathlessly with emphatic intonations and gestures.
Coming abreast of the caleche he ran beside it.
"Thrice have they slain me, thrice have I risen from the dead.
They stoned me, crucified me... I shall rise... shall rise... shall
rise. They have torn my body. The kingdom of God will be overthrown...
Thrice will I overthrow it and thrice re-establish it!" he cried,
raising his voice higher and higher.
Count Rostopchin suddenly grew pale as he had done when the crowd
closed in on Vereshchagin. He turned away. "Go fas... faster!" he
cried in a trembling voice to his coachman. The caleche flew over
the ground as fast as the horses could draw it, but for a long time
Count Rostopchin still heard the insane despairing screams growing
fainter in the distance, while his eyes saw nothing but the
astonished, frightened, bloodstained face of "the traitor" in the
Recent as that mental picture was, Rostopchin already felt that it
had cut deep into his heart and drawn blood. Even now he felt
clearly that the gory trace of that recollection would not pass with
time, but that the terrible memory would, on the contrary, dwell in
his heart ever more cruelly and painfully to the end of his life. He
seemed still to hear the sound of his own words: "Cut him down! I
"Why did I utter those words? It was by some accident I said
them.... I need not have said them," he thought. "And then nothing
would have happened." He saw the frightened and then infuriated face
of the dragoon who dealt the blow, the look of silent, timid
reproach that boy in the fur-lined coat had turned upon him. "But I
did not do it for my own sake. I was bound to act that way.... The
mob, the traitor... the public welfare," thought he.
Troops were still crowding at the Yauza bridge. It was hot. Kutuzov,
dejected and frowning, sat on a bench by the bridge toying with his
whip in the sand when a caleche dashed up noisily. A man in a
generals uniform with plumes in his hat went up to Kutuzov and said
something in French. It was Count Rostopchin. He told Kutuzov that
he had come because Moscow, the capital, was no more and only the army
"Things would have been different if your Serene Highness had not
told me that you would not abandon Moscow without another battle;
all this would not have happened," he said.
Kutuzov looked at Rostopchin as if, not grasping what was said to
him, he was trying to read something peculiar written at that moment
on the face of the man addressing him. Rostopchin grew confused and
became silent. Kutuzov slightly shook his head and not taking his
penetrating gaze from Rostopchins face muttered softly:
"No! I shall not give up Moscow without a battle!"
Whether Kutuzov was thinking of something entirely different when he
spoke those words, or uttered them purposely, knowing them to be
meaningless, at any rate Rostopchin made no reply and hastily left
him. And strange to say, the Governor of Moscow, the proud Count
Rostopchin, took up a Cossack whip and went to the bridge where he
began with shouts to drive on the carts that blocked the way.
Toward four oclock in the afternoon Murats troops were entering
Moscow. In front rode a detachment of Wurttemberg hussars and behind
them rode the King of Naples himself accompanied by a numerous suite.
About the middle of the Arbat Street, near the Church of the
Miraculous Icon of St. Nicholas, Murat halted to await news from the
advanced detachment as to
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