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 VI

Having thanked Anna Pávlovna (the Petersburg hostess) for her charming (delightfully attractive) soiree (an evening party — French), the guests began to take their leave.

Pierre was ungainly (awkward in shape and motion). Stout (fat and solid; brave), about the average height, broad, with huge red hands; he did not know, as the saying is, how to enter a drawing room and still less how to leave one; that is, how to say something particularly agreeable (pleasant) before going away. Besides this he was absent-minded (with the mind elsewhere). When he rose to go, he took up instead of his own, the general’s three-cornered (with three corners) hat, and held it, pulling at the plume (a large ornamental feather), till the general asked him to restore (to bring back) it. All his absent-mindedness (forgetful inattention) and inability (being unable) to enter a room and converse (to talk together) in it was, however, redeemed (to buy back; to save) by his kindly (kind; gently), simple, and modest (humble; not boastful) expression. Anna Pávlovna turned toward him and, with a Christian mildness (gentle mildness) that expressed forgiveness (pardon) of his indiscretion (an unwise loose step), nodded (to bow the head slightly) and said: “I hope to see you again, but I also hope you will change your opinions, my dear Monsieur (sir; mister — French) Pierre.”

When she said this, he did not reply and only bowed (to bend in respect; a ribbon knot), but again everybody saw his smile, which said nothing, unless perhaps, “Opinions are opinions, but you see what a capital, good-natured (kindly by nature) fellow I am.” And everyone, including Anna Pávlovna, felt this.

Prince Andrew had gone out into the hall, and, turning his shoulders to the footman (a liveried man servant) who was helping him on with his cloak (a loose outer wrap), listened indifferently (without care or interest) to his wife’s chatter (quick idle talk) with Prince Hippolyte (Prince Vasíli's dull elder son) who had also come into the hall. Prince Hippolyte stood close to the pretty, pregnant princess, and stared fixedly (with a fixed stare) at her through his eyeglass (a single lens for one eye).

“Go in, Annette (a pet form of Anna), or you will catch cold,” said the little princess, taking leave of Anna Pávlovna. “It is settled (to fix in place; to bring to rest),” she added in a low voice.

Anna Pávlovna had already managed to speak to Lise (the little princess, Prince Andrew's wife) about the match she contemplated (to gaze at in thought) between Anatole (Anatole Kurágin, Prince Vasíli's handsome, dissolute son) and the little princess’ sister-in-law (a husband's or wife's sister).

“I rely (to depend on) on you, my dear,” said Anna Pávlovna, also in a low tone (a sound's quality; a manner). “Write to her and let me know how her father looks at the matter. Au revoir! ”—and she left the hall.

Prince Hippolyte approached the little princess and, bending (to curve; to bow) his face close to her, began to whisper (a soft hushed voice) something.

Two footmen (a liveried man servant), the princess’ and his own, stood holding a shawl (a cloth wrap for the shoulders) and a cloak (a loose outer wrap), waiting for the conversation to finish. They listened to the French sentences which to them were meaningless (without meaning), with an air of understanding but not wishing to appear to do so. The princess as usual spoke smilingly (with a smile) and listened with a laugh.

“I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador (a state's chief envoy)’s,” said Prince Hippolyte “—so dull (not sharp; not bright)—. It has been a delightful (giving delight) evening, has it not? Delightful (giving delight)!”

“They say the ball will be very good,” replied the princess, drawing up her downy (soft as young feathers) little lip (the mouth's edge). “All the pretty women in society will be there.”

“Not all, for you will not be there; not all,” said Prince Hippolyte smiling joyfully (with joy); and snatching (to grab quickly) the shawl (a cloth wrap for the shoulders) from the footman (a liveried man servant), whom he even pushed aside, he began wrapping (to fold a covering around) it round the princess. Either from awkwardness (clumsy unease) or intentionally (on purpose) (no one could have said which) after the shawl (a cloth wrap for the shoulders) had been adjusted (to set right) he kept his arm around her for a long time, as though embracing (to hold in the arms) her.

Still smiling, she gracefully (with easy grace) moved away, turning and glancing (a quick look) at her husband. Prince Andrew’s eyes were closed, so weary (tired out) and sleepy (heavy with sleep) did he seem.

“Are you ready?” he asked his wife, looking past her.

Prince Hippolyte hurriedly (in a rush) put on his cloak (a loose outer wrap), which in the latest fashion reached to his very heels (the foot's back), and, stumbling (to trip in walking) in it, ran out into the porch (a covered entrance) following the princess, whom a footman (a liveried man servant) was helping into the carriage (a wheeled passenger vehicle; bearing).

“Princesse (princess — French), au revoir,” cried he, stumbling (to trip in walking) with his tongue (the mouth's organ; a language) as well as with his feet.

The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat in the dark carriage (a wheeled passenger vehicle; bearing), her husband was adjusting (to set right) his saber (a cavalry sword with a curved blade); Prince Hippolyte, under pretense (a false show) of helping, was in everyone’s way.

“Allow me, sir,” said Prince Andrew in Russian in a cold, disagreeable (unpleasant) tone (a sound's quality; a manner) to Prince Hippolyte who was blocking his path.

“I am expecting you, Pierre,” said the same voice, but gently (with mild softness) and affectionately (with warm love).

The postilion (a rider who guides carriage horses) started, the carriage (a wheeled passenger vehicle; bearing) wheels rattled (a quick knocking noise). Prince Hippolyte laughed spasmodically (in sudden jerky fits) as he stood in the porch (a covered entrance) waiting for the vicomte (a French noble rank below count) whom he had promised to take home.

“Well, mon cher (dear — French, as in mon cher),” said the vicomte (a French noble rank below count), having seated himself beside (at the side of) Hippolyte in the carriage (a wheeled passenger vehicle; bearing), “your little princess is very nice, very nice indeed, quite French,” and he kissed the tips of his fingers. Hippolyte burst (to break open suddenly) out laughing.

“Do you know, you are a terrible chap (a fellow) for all your innocent (free of guilt) airs,” continued the vicomte (a French noble rank below count). “I pity (sorrow for another's pain) the poor husband, that little officer who gives himself the airs of a monarch (a king or emperor).”

Hippolyte spluttered (to choke and spit with laughter) again, and amid (in the middle of) his laughter (laughing) said, “And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French? One has to know how to deal with them.”

Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew’s study like one quite at home, and from habit (a settled way of acting) immediately lay down on the sofa (a long padded seat), took from the shelf (a flat holding board) the first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar’s Commentaries), and resting on his elbow (the arm's joint), began reading it in the middle.

“What have you done to Mlle Schérer (Anna Pávlovna Schérer, the Petersburg hostess)? She will be quite ill now,” said Prince Andrew, as he entered the study, rubbing (to press and slide upon) his small white hands.

Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa (a long padded seat) creak (a thin squeaking sound). He lifted his eager (keenly desiring) face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and waved his hand.

“That abbé (a French priest or tutor — French) is very interesting but he does not see the thing in the right light.... In my opinion perpetual (never ending) peace is possible but—I do not know how to express it ... not by a balance of political power....”

It was evident (plain to see) that Prince Andrew was not interested in such abstract (apart from real things) conversation.

“One can’t everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher (dear — French, as in mon cher). Well, have you at last decided on anything? Are you going to be a guardsman (a soldier of the Guards) or a diplomatist (a diplomat)?” asked Prince Andrew after a momentary (lasting a moment) silence (absence of sound).

Pierre sat up on the sofa (a long padded seat), with his legs tucked (to fold warmly in) under him.

“Really, I don’t yet know. I don’t like either the one or the other.”

“But you must decide on something! Your father expects it.”

Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad (in foreign lands) with an abbé (a French priest or tutor — French) as tutor (a private teacher), and had remained away till he was twenty. When he returned to Moscow his father dismissed (to send away) the abbé (a French priest or tutor — French) and said to the young man, “Now go to Petersburg, look round, and choose your profession (one's declared calling). I will agree to anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasíli (Prince Vasíli Kurágin, the smooth court intriguer), and here is money. Write to me all about it, and I will help you in everything.” Pierre had already been choosing a career for three months, and had not decided on anything. It was about this choice that Prince Andrew was speaking. Pierre rubbed (to press and slide upon) his forehead (the brow).

“But he must be a Freemason,” said he, referring (to direct to; to relate to) to the abbé (a French priest or tutor — French) whom he had met that evening.

“That is all nonsense (senseless talk).” Prince Andrew again interrupted (to break in upon) him, “let us talk business. Have you been to the Horse Guards?”

“No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking and wanted to tell you. There is a war now against Napoleon (Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of the French). If it were a war for freedom I could understand it and should be the first to enter the army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in the world is not right.”

Prince Andrew only shrugged (to lift the shoulders) his shoulders at Pierre’s childish (like a child) words. He put on the air of one who finds it impossible to reply to such nonsense (senseless talk), but it would in fact have been difficult to give any other answer than the one Prince Andrew gave to this naïve (innocently simple) question.

“If no one fought except on his own conviction (settled belief; a finding of guilt), there would be no wars,” he said.

“And that would be splendid (grand and shining),” said Pierre.

Prince Andrew smiled ironically (in mocking opposite meaning).

“Very likely it would be splendid (grand and shining), but it will never come about....”

“Well, why are you going to the war?” asked Pierre.

“What for? I don’t know. I must. Besides that I am going....” He paused (a brief stop). “I am going because the life I am leading here does not suit me!”