Maximum-assistance view: every word above everyday vocabulary is explained at every appearance; each name is introduced at its first appearance in the chapter.
CHAPTER XVI
Pierre, after all, had not managed to choose a career for himself in Petersburg, and had been expelled (to drive out) from there for riotous (wild and unruly) conduct and sent to Moscow. The story told about him at Count Rostóv (the family name of Nicholas, Natásha, and Pétya)’s was true. Pierre had taken part in tying a policeman (an officer of the law) to a bear. He had now been for some days in Moscow and was staying as usual at his father’s house. Though he expected that the story of his escapade (a wild prank) would be already known in Moscow and that the ladies about his father—who were never favorably (with favor) disposed (to arrange; to incline) toward him—would have used (use: habit; custom — the old sense here) it to turn the count against him, he nevertheless (even so) on the day of his arrival (a coming) went to his father’s part of the house. Entering the drawing room, where the princesses spent most of their time, he greeted (to welcome) the ladies, two of whom were sitting at embroidery (ornamental needlework) frames while a third read aloud (out loud). It was the eldest (the eldest) who was reading—the one who had met Anna (a woman's name — Anna Pávlovna Schérer and others) Mikháylovna (a patronymic — daughter of Michael). The two younger ones were embroidering (decorated with needlework): both were rosy (pink as a rose) and pretty and they differed (to be unlike) only in that one had a little mole (the small burrowing animal; a dark skin spot) on her lip (the mouth's edge) which made her much prettier. Pierre was received as if he were a corpse (a dead body) or a leper (an outcast no one will touch). The eldest (the eldest) princess paused (a brief stop) in her reading and silently (without sound) stared at him with frightened (afraid) eyes; the second assumed precisely (exactly) the same expression; while the youngest, the one with the mole (the small burrowing animal; a dark skin spot), who was of a cheerful (full of cheer) and lively (full of life) disposition (temper of mind; battle arrangement), bent (curved; determined on) over her frame to hide a smile probably evoked (to call up) by the amusing (entertaining) scene she foresaw (to see beforehand). She drew her wool (the sheep's soft coat) down through the canvas (coarse strong cloth) and, scarcely (hardly) able to refrain (to hold back from) from laughing, stooped (to bend down) as if trying to make out the pattern.
“How do you do, cousin (an uncle's or aunt's child)?” said Pierre. “You don’t recognize me?”
“I recognize you only too well, too well.”
“How is the count? Can I see him?” asked Pierre, awkwardly (clumsily) as usual, but unabashed (not ashamed or put off).
“The count is suffering physically (in the body) and mentally (in the mind), and apparently you have done your best to increase his mental sufferings.”
“Can I see the count?” Pierre again asked.
“Hm.... If you wish to kill him, to kill him outright (complete and open), you can see him... Olga (a woman's name), go and see whether Uncle’s beef (ox meat) tea is ready—it is almost time,” she added, giving Pierre to understand that they were busy, and busy making his father comfortable, while evidently (as plainly appears) he, Pierre, was only busy causing him annoyance (irritation).
Olga (a woman's name) went out. Pierre stood looking at the sisters; then he bowed (to bend in respect; a ribbon knot) and said: “Then I will go to my rooms. You will let me know when I can see him.”
And he left the room, followed by the low but ringing (sounding like a bell) laughter (laughing) of the sister with the mole (the small burrowing animal; a dark skin spot).
Next day Prince Vasíli (Prince Vasíli Kurágin, the smooth court intriguer) had arrived and settled (to fix in place; to bring to rest) in the count’s house. He sent for Pierre and said to him: “My dear fellow, if you are going to behave (to conduct oneself) here as you did in Petersburg, you will end very badly (in a bad way); that is all I have to say to you. The count is very, very ill, and you must not see him at all.”
Since then Pierre had not been disturbed (to break the quiet of) and had spent the whole time in his rooms upstairs (on the floor above).
When Borís (Borís Drubetskóy, the ambitious young officer) appeared at his door Pierre was pacing (a step's length; speed) up and down his room, stopping occasionally (now and then) at a corner to make menacing (threatening) gestures (a meaning movement) at the wall, as if running a sword (the long blade weapon) through an invisible (unable to be seen) foe (an enemy), and glaring (a hard bright light; an angry stare) savagely (with fierce cruelty) over his spectacles (a grand sight; glasses for the eyes), and then again resuming (to take up again) his walk, muttering (to speak low in the throat) indistinct (not clear) words, shrugging (to lift the shoulders) his shoulders and gesticulating (to wave the hands while speaking).
“England is done for,” said he, scowling (to frown darkly) and pointing his finger (a digit of the hand) at someone unseen (not seen). “Mr. Pitt (England's war minister against Napoleon), as a traitor (one who betrays) to the nation and to the rights of man, is sentenced to...” But before Pierre—who at that moment imagined himself to be Napoleon (Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of the French) in person and to have just effected the dangerous crossing (a passing over) of the Straits of Dover and captured (to take prisoner) London—could pronounce (to speak a word; declare) Pitt’s sentence, he saw a well-built (strongly built) and handsome (fine-looking) young officer entering his room. Pierre paused (a brief stop). He had left Moscow when Borís was a boy of fourteen (fourteen), and had quite forgotten him, but in his usual impulsive (acting on sudden pushes of feeling) and hearty (warm and vigorous) way he took Borís by the hand with a friendly smile.
“Do you remember me?” asked Borís quietly (without noise) with a pleasant (pleasing) smile. “I have come with my mother to see the count, but it seems he is not well.”
“Yes, it seems he is ill. People are always disturbing (to break the quiet of) him,” answered Pierre, trying to remember who this young man was.
Borís felt that Pierre did not recognize him but did not consider it necessary to introduce (to make known; bring in) himself, and without experiencing the least embarrassment (awkward shame) looked Pierre straight in the face.
“Count Rostóv asks you to come to dinner today,” said he, after a considerable (fairly large) pause (a brief stop) which made Pierre feel uncomfortable (without comfort).
“Ah, Count Rostóv!” exclaimed (to cry out) Pierre joyfully (with joy). “Then you are his son, Ilyá (Count Ilyá Rostóv, the open-handed old count)? Only fancy (the imagination; a liking), I didn (did — didn't: did not)’t know you at first. Do you remember how we went to the Sparrow (from the Sparrow Hills overlooking Moscow) Hills with Madame (my lady — French) Jacquot (a Frenchman's name)?... It’s such an age...”
“You are mistaken (in error),” said Borís deliberately (deliberately: slowly and carefully — the old sense here), with a bold (daring) and slightly sarcastic (cuttingly mocking) smile. “I am Borís, son of Princess Anna Mikháylovna Drubetskáya (Princess Anna Mikháylovna Drubetskáya, Borís' scheming mother). Rostóv, the father, is Ilyá, and his son is Nicholas (Nicholas Rostóv, the eldest Rostóv son). I never knew any Madame Jacquot.”
Pierre shook (to move quickly to and fro) his head and arms as if attacked by mosquitoes (the biting whining insect) or bees (the honey-making insect).
“Oh dear, what am I thinking about? I’ve mixed everything up. One has so many relatives (a family member; compared) in Moscow! So you are Borís? Of course. Well, now we know where we are. And what do you think of the Boulogne (the French port where Napoleon massed against England) expedition (a journey with a purpose)? The English will come off badly (in a bad way), you know, if Napoleon gets across the Channel. I think the expedition (a journey with a purpose) is quite feasible (able to be done). If only Villeneuve (the French admiral of Trafalgar) doesn (does — doesn't: does not)’t make a mess of things!”
Borís knew nothing about the Boulogne expedition (a journey with a purpose); he did not read the papers and it was the first time he had heard Villeneuve’s name.
“We here in Moscow are more occupied (to hold; to fill) with dinner parties and scandal (shameful public talk) than with politics,” said he in his quiet ironical (mocking by saying the opposite) tone (a sound's quality; a manner). “I know nothing about it and have not thought about it. Moscow is chiefly (mainly) busy with gossip (idle talk of others),” he continued. “Just now they are talking about you and your father.”
Pierre smiled in his good-natured (kindly by nature) way as if afraid for his companion (one who keeps company)’s sake (for the good of) that the latter might say something he would afterwards (later) regret (sorrow over what is done). But Borís spoke distinctly (clearly), clearly, and dryly (coldly and shortly), looking straight into Pierre’s eyes.
“Moscow has nothing else to do but gossip (idle talk of others),” Borís went on. “Everybody is wondering to whom the count will leave his fortune (wealth; luck), though he may perhaps outlive (to live longer than) us all, as I sincerely (with true heart) hope he will...”
“Yes, it is all very horrid (horrible),” interrupted (to break in upon) Pierre, “very horrid (horrible).”
Pierre was still afraid that this officer might inadvertently (without meaning to) say something disconcerting (thrown off balance; unsettled) to himself.
“And it must seem to you,” said Borís flushing (a rush of blood to the face) slightly, but not changing his tone (a sound's quality; a manner) or attitude, “it must seem to you that everyone is trying to get something out of the rich man?”
“So it does,” thought Pierre.
“But I just wish to say, to avoid misunderstandings (a wrong taking of meaning), that you are quite mistaken (in error) if you reckon (to count; to judge) me or my mother among such people. We are very poor, but for my own part at any rate, for the very reason that your father is rich, I don’t regard (to look upon; respect) myself as a relation (a connection; a relative) of his, and neither I nor my mother would ever ask or take anything from him.”
For a long time Pierre could not understand, but when he did, he jumped up from the sofa (a long padded seat), seized (to grab; take hold) Borís under the elbow (the arm's joint) in his quick, clumsy (awkward and heavy-handed) way, and, blushing (to redden with shame) far more than Borís, began to speak with a feeling of mingled (mixed together) shame and vexation (annoyance; distress).
“Well, this is strange! Do you suppose I... who could think?... I know very well...”
But Borís again interrupted (to break in upon) him.
“I am glad I have spoken out fully. Perhaps you did not like it? You must excuse me,” said he, putting Pierre at ease (comfort; freedom from effort) instead of being put at ease (comfort; freedom from effort) by him, “but I hope I have not offended (to hurt feelings; to sin against) you. I always make it a rule to speak out... Well, what answer am I to take? Will you come to dinner at the Rostóvs (the warm-hearted Moscow family at the novel's center)’?”
And Borís, having apparently relieved (to ease; to take another's place on duty) himself of an onerous (heavy and burdensome) duty and extricated (to work free from) himself from an awkward (clumsy; uneasy) situation and placed another in it, became quite pleasant (pleasing) again.
“No, but I say,” said Pierre, calming down, “you are a wonderful fellow! What you have just said is good, very good. Of course you don’t know me. We have not met for such a long time... not since we were children. You might think that I... I understand, quite understand. I could not have done it myself, I should not have had the courage (bravery), but it’s splendid (grand and shining). I am very glad to have made your acquaintance (a person one knows slightly). It’s queer (strange),” he added after a pause (a brief stop), “that you should have suspected me!” He began to laugh. “Well, what of it! I hope we’ll get better acquainted (to make known to),” and he pressed Borís’ hand. “Do you know, I have not once been in to see the count. He has not sent for me.... I am sorry for him as a man, but what can one do?”
“And so you think Napoleon will manage to get an army across?” asked Borís with a smile.
Pierre saw that Borís wished to change the subject, and being of the same mind he began explaining the advantages and disadvantages (an unfavorable position) of the Boulogne expedition (a journey with a purpose).
A footman (a liveried man servant) came in to summon (to call to come) Borís—the princess was going. Pierre, in order to make Borís’ better acquaintance (a person one knows slightly), promised to come to dinner, and warmly (with warmth) pressing his hand looked affectionately (with warm love) over his spectacles (a grand sight; glasses for the eyes) into Borís’ eyes. After he had gone Pierre continued pacing (a step's length; speed) up and down the room for a long time, no longer piercing (to stab through) an imaginary (existing only in the mind) foe (an enemy) with his imaginary (existing only in the mind) sword (the long blade weapon), but smiling at the remembrance (memory) of that pleasant (pleasing), intelligent (quick of mind), and resolute (firmly determined) young man.
As often happens in early youth, especially to one who leads a lonely (alone and sad) life, he felt an unaccountable (impossible to explain) tenderness (loving softness) for this young man and made up his mind that they would be friends.
Prince Vasíli saw the princess off. She held a handkerchief (a cloth for the nose or eyes) to her eyes and her face was tearful (full of tears).
“It is dreadful (filling with dread), dreadful (filling with dread)!” she was saying, “but cost me what it may I shall do my duty. I will come and spend the night. He must not be left like this. Every moment is precious (of great worth). I can’t think why his nieces (a brother's or sister's daughter) put it off. Perhaps God will help me to find a way to prepare him!... Adieu, Prince! May God support you...”
“Adieu, ma bonne,” answered Prince Vasíli turning away from her.
“Oh, he is in a dreadful (filling with dread) state (state: ceremony; pomp — the old sense here),” said the mother to her son when they were in the carriage (a wheeled passenger vehicle; bearing). “He hardly recognizes anybody.”
“I don’t understand, Mamma—what is his attitude to Pierre?” asked the son.
“The will will show that, my dear; our fate (the appointed lot) also depends on it.”
“But why do you expect that he will leave us anything?”
“Ah, my dear! He is so rich, and we are so poor!”
“Well, that is hardly a sufficient (enough) reason, Mamma...”
“Oh, Heaven! How ill he is!” exclaimed (to cry out) the mother.