Prince Vasily was not given to planning ahead. Still less would he think of doing any harm to other people in order to gain an advantage. He was a man of the world pure and simple, someone who had found success in society and turned success into a habit. Various plans and considerations were always forming in his mind, according to circumstances and individual encounters, but he was never fully conscious of them, even though they were his main interest in life. At any time he had on the go not just one or two such plans and considerations but dozens of them, some just emerging in his mind, some coming to fruition, and others coming to nothing. He never said to himself, for instance, ‘Here is a man with power. I must gain his friendship and confidence, and use him to obtain a grant from some special fund,’ nor did he say, ‘Now that Pierre is a wealthy man, I must hoodwink him into marrying my daughter and lending me the forty thousand I need.’ But whenever he came across a man of power he knew instinctively whether this man might be of some use, and Prince Vasily would ingratiate himself and take the first opportunity – again instinctively and without any forethought – to flatter him, get on familiar terms with him and then tell him what he wanted.
With Pierre at hand in Moscow, Prince Vasily secured him an appointment as gentleman of the bedchamber, a position which put him on the same footing as a state councillor,1 and he insisted that the young man travel with him to Petersburg and stay at his house. Quite inadvertently, it seemed, though with absolute certainty that he was doing the right thing, Prince Vasily did everything to ensure that Pierre would marry his daughter. Had Prince Vasily been given to thinking his plans out in advance, he could never have behaved so naturally or been so direct and familiar in his relations with everyone, whether higher or lower in rank. There was something that always drew him towards men richer or more powerful than himself, and he had the rare gift of knowing precisely when he could and should make use of such persons.
Pierre’s unexpected elevation to wealth and the title of Count Bezukhov, coming as it did after a life of solitude and easy-going pleasure, now made him feel so hemmed in and preoccupied that the only time he could be alone with his thoughts was in bed. He had to sign papers, put in official appearances with no clear idea of what he was doing, consult his chief steward, go out to his estate near Moscow and receive a host of people who had never wanted to know of his existence before but would have been hurt and offended now if he had refused to see them. These different people – businessmen, relatives, acquaintances – showed the same friendliness and affection to the young heir; every last one of them, ostentatiously and beyond all doubt, was convinced of Pierre’s noble qualities. He kept hearing people say, ‘With your remarkably kind disposition . . .’ or, ‘With a heart as good as yours. . .’ or, ‘Count, you are so pure-minded . . .’ or, ‘If only he was as clever as you . . .’ and so on, until he came to believe genuinely in his own exceptional kindness and his own exceptional intelligence, especially since at the bottom of his heart he had always thought of himself as both very kind-hearted and very intelligent. Even people who had once been nasty to him and sometimes openly hostile now showed him warmth and affection. The eldest princess, she of the long waist and doll-like plastered-down hair, so bad-tempered before, had gone to see Pierre in his room after the funeral. With eyes downcast and many a blush she told him how greatly she regretted the misunderstandings that had arisen between them; now she felt she had no right to ask for anything except only his permission, following the blow that had befallen her, to stay on for a few weeks in the house she had always been so fond of, and where she had sacrificed so much. At these words she lost control and lapsed into tears. Deeply moved by the change that had come over such a statue-like person, Pierre took the princess by the hand and apologized to her, though he had no idea for what. From that day on the princess began knitting a striped scarf for Pierre, and she adopted a completely different attitude towards him.
‘Do this for her sake, dear boy. She had a lot to put up with from the late count,’ Prince Vasily said to him, handing him a document to sign for the princess’s benefit. Prince Vasily had decided it might be worth throwing the poor princess a bone to chew on (a draft for thirty thousand) so that it wouldn’t occur to her to open her mouth about Prince Vasily’s part in the business of the inlaid portfolio. Pierre signed, and from then on the princess became even sweeter. Her younger sisters were also very nice to him, especially the youngest, the pretty one with the mole, who often embarrassed Pierre with her smiles and her own embarrassment at the sight of him.
