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“To…morrow then you will speak to the Emperor？”
“Certainly； but about Kutuzov I can’t promise。”
“Yes； do promise； promise； Basile；” Anna Mihalovna said； pursuing him with the smile of a coquettish girl； once perhaps characteristic； but now utterly incongruous with her careworn face。 Evidently she had forgotten her age and from habit was bringing out every feminine resource。 But as soon as he had gone out her face assumed once more the frigid； artificial expression it had worn all the evening。 She went back to the group in which the vicomte was still talking； and again affected to be listening； waiting for the suitable moment to get away； now that her object had been attained。
“And what do you think of this latest farce of the coronation at Milan？” said Anna Pavlovna。 “And the new comedy of the people of Lucca and Genoa coming to present their petitions to Monsieur Buonaparte。 Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions of nations！ Adorable！ Why； it is enough to drive one out of one’s senses！ It seems as though the whole world had lost its head。”
Prince Andrey smiled sarcastically； looking straight into Anna Pavlovna’s face。
“God gives it me； let man beware of touching it；” he said （Bonaparte’s words uttered at the coronation）。 “They say that he was very fine as he spoke those words；” he added； and he repeated the same words in Italian： “Dio me l’ha data； e quai a chi la tocca。”
“I hope that at last；” pursued Anna Pavlovna； “this has been the drop of water that will make the glass run over。 The sovereigns cannot continue to endure this man who is a threat to everything。”
“The sovereigns！ I am not speaking of Russia；” said the vicomte deferentially and hopelessly。 “The sovereigns！ … Madame！ What did they do for Louis the Sixteenth； for the queen； for Madame Elisabeth？ Nothing；” he went on with more animation； “and believe me； they are undergoing the punishment of their treason to the Bourbon cause。 The sovereigns！ … They are sending ambassadors to congratulate the usurper。”
And with a scornful sigh he shifted his attitude again。 Prince Ippolit； who had for a long time been staring through his eyeglass at the vicomte； at these words suddenly turned completely round； and bending over the little princess asked her for a needle； and began showing her the coat…of…arms of the Condé family； scratching it with the needle on the table。 He explained the coat…of…arms with an air of gravity； as though the princess had asked him about it。 “Staff； gules； engrailed with gules of azure—house of Condé；” he said。 The princess listened smiling。
“If Bonaparte remains another year on the throne of France；” resumed the vicomte； with the air of a man who； being better acquainted with the subject than any one else； pursues his own train of thought without listening to other people； “things will have gone too far。 By intrigue and violence； by exiles and executions； French society—I mean good society—will have been destroyed for ever； and then…”
He shrugged his shoulders； and made a despairing gesture with his hand。 Pierre wanted to say something—the conversation interested him —but Anna Pavlovna； who was keeping her eye on him； interposed。
“And the Emperor Alexander；” she said with the pathetic note that always accompanied all her references to the imperial family； “has declared his intention of leaving it to the French themselves to choose their own form of government。 And I imagine there is no doubt that the whole nation； delivered from the usurper； would fling itself into the arms of its lawful king；” said Anna Pavlovna； trying to be agreeable to an émigré and loyalist。
“That’s not certain；” said Prince Andrey。 “M。 le vicomte is quite right in supposing that things have gone too far by now。 I imagine it would not be easy to return to the old régime。”
“As far as I could hear；” Pierre； blushing； again interposed in the conversation； “almost all the nobility have gone over to Bonaparte。”
“That’s what the Bonapartists assert；” said the vicomte without looking at Pierre。 “It’s a difficult matter now to find out what public opinion is in France。”
“Bonaparte said so；” observed Prince Andrey with a sarcastic smile。 It was evident that he did not like the vicomte； and that though he was not looking at him； he was directing his remarks against him。
“ ‘I showed them the path of glory； they would not take it；’ ” he said after a brief pause； again quoting Napoleon’s words。 “ ‘I opened my anterooms to them； they crowded in。’ … I do not know in what degree he had a right to say so。”
“None！” retorted the vicomte。 “Since the duc’s murder even his warmest partisans have ceased to regard him as a hero。 If indeed some people made a hero of him；” said the vicomte addressing Anna Pavlovna； “since the duke’s assassination there has been a martyr more in heaven； and a hero less on earth。”
Anna Pavlovna and the rest of the company hardly had time to smile their appreciation of the vicomte’s words； when Pierre again broke into the conversation； and though Anna Pavlovna had a foreboding he would say something inappropriate； this time she was unable to stop him。
“The execution of the duc d’Enghien；” said Monsieur Pierre； “was a political necessity； and I consider it a proof of greatness of soul that Napoleon did not hesitate to take the whole responsibility of it upon himself。”
“Dieu！ mon Dieu！” moaned Anna Pavlovna； in a terrified whisper。
“What； Monsieur Pierre！ you think assassination is greatness of soul？” said the little princess； smiling and moving her work nearer to her。
“Ah！ oh！” cried different voices。
“Capital！” Prince Ippolit said in English； and he began slapping his knee。 The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders。
Pierre looked solemnly over his spectacles at his audience。
“I say so；” he pursued desperately； “because the Bourbons ran away from the Revolution； leaving the people to anarchy； and Napoleon alone was capable of understanding the Revolution； of overcoming it； and so for the public good he could not stop short at the life of one man。”
“Won’t you come over to this table？” said Anna Pavlovna。 But Pierre went on without answering her。
“Yes；” he said； getting more and more eager； “Napoleon is great because he has towered above the Revolution； and subdued its evil tendencies； preserving all that was good—the equality of all citizens； and freedom of speech and of the press； and only to that end has he possessed himself of supreme power。”
“Yes； if on obtaining power he had surrendered it to the lawful king； instead of making use of it to commit murder；” said the vicomte； “then I might have called him a great man。”
“He could not have done that。 The people gave him power simply for him to rid them of the Bourbons； and that was just why the people believed him to be a great man。 The Revolution was a grand fact；” pursued Monsieur Pierre； betraying by this desperate and irrelevantly provocative statement his extreme youth and desire to give full expression to everything。
“Revolution and regicide a grand fact？…What next？…but won’t you come to this table？” repeated Anna Pavlovna。
“Contrat social