One of the doctors came out of the tent in a bloodstained apron, holding _igar between the thumb and little finger of one of his small bloodstaine_ands, so as not to smear it. He raised his head and looked about him, bu_bove the level of the wounded men. He evidently wanted a little respite.
After turning his head from right to left for some time, he sighed and looke_own.
"All right, immediately," he replied to a dresser who pointed Prince Andre_ut to him, and he told them to carry him into the tent.
Murmurs arose among the wounded who were waiting.
"It seems that even in the next world only the gentry are to have a chance!"
Prince Andrew was carried in and laid on a table that had only just bee_leared and which a dresser was washing down. Prince Andrew could not make ou_istinctly what was in that tent. The pitiful groans from all sides and th_orturing pain in his thigh, stomach, and back distracted him. All he sa_bout him merged into a general impression of naked, bleeding human bodie_hat seemed to fill the whole of the low tent, as a few weeks previously, o_hat hot August day, such bodies had filled the dirty pond beside the Smolens_oad. Yes, it was the same flesh, the same chair a canon, the sight of whic_ad even then filled him with horror, as by a presentiment.
There were three operating tables in the tent. Two were occupied, and on th_hird they placed Prince Andrew. For a little while he was left alone an_nvoluntarily witnessed what was taking place on the other two tables. On th_earest one sat a Tartar, probably a Cossack, judging by the uniform throw_own beside him. Four soldiers were holding him, and a spectacled doctor wa_utting into his muscular brown back.
"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" grunted the Tartar, and suddenly lifting up his swarthy snub-
nosed face with its high cheekbones, and baring his white teeth, he began t_riggle and twitch his body and utter piercing, ringing, and prolonged yells.
On the other table, round which many people were crowding, a tall well-fed ma_ay on his back with his head thrown back. His curly hair, its color, and th_hape of his head seemed strangely familiar to Prince Andrew. Several dresser_ere pressing on his chest to hold him down. One large, white, plump le_witched rapidly all the time with a feverish tremor. The man was sobbing an_hoking convulsively. Two doctors—one of whom was pale and trembling—wer_ilently doing something to this man's other, gory leg. When he had finishe_ith the Tartar, whom they covered with an overcoat, the spectacled docto_ame up to Prince Andrew, wiping his hands.
He glanced at Prince Andrew's face and quickly turned away.
"Undress him! What are you waiting for?" he cried angrily to the dressers.
His very first, remotest recollections of childhood came back to Princ_ndrew's mind when the dresser with sleeves rolled up began hastily to und_he buttons of his clothes and undressed him. The doctor bent down over th_ound, felt it, and sighed deeply. Then he made a sign to someone, and th_orturing pain in his abdomen caused Prince Andrew to lose consciousness. Whe_e came to himself the splintered portions of his thighbone had bee_xtracted, the torn flesh cut away, and the wound bandaged. Water was bein_prinkled on his face. As soon as Prince Andrew opened his eyes, the docto_ent over, kissed him silently on the lips, and hurried away.
After the sufferings he had been enduring, Prince Andrew enjoyed a blissfu_eeling such as he had not experienced for a long time. All the best an_appiest moments of his life—especially his earliest childhood, when he use_o be undressed and put to bed, and when leaning over him his nurse sang hi_o sleep and he, burying his head in the pillow, felt happy in the mer_onsciousness of life- returned to his memory, not merely as something pas_ut as something present.
The doctors were busily engaged with the wounded man the shape of whose hea_eemed familiar to Prince Andrew: they were lifting him up and trying to quie_im.
"Show it to me… . Oh, ooh… Oh! Oh, ooh!" his frightened moans could be heard,
subdued by suffering and broken by sobs.
Hearing those moans Prince Andrew wanted to weep. Whether because he was dyin_ithout glory, or because he was sorry to part with life, or because of thos_emories of a childhood that could not return, or because he was suffering an_thers were suffering and that man near him was groaning so piteously—he fel_ike weeping childlike, kindly, and almost happy tears.
The wounded man was shown his amputated leg stained with clotted blood an_ith the boot still on.
"Oh! Oh, ooh!" he sobbed, like a woman.
The doctor who had been standing beside him, preventing Prince Andrew fro_eeing his face, moved away.
"My God! What is this? Why is he here?" said Prince Andrew to himself.
In the miserable, sobbing, enfeebled man whose leg had just been amputated, h_ecognized Anatole Kuragin. Men were supporting him in their arms and offerin_im a glass of water, but his trembling, swollen lips could not grasp its rim.
Anatole was sobbing painfully. "Yes, it is he! Yes, that man is someho_losely and painfully connected with me," thought Prince Andrew, not ye_learly grasping what he saw before him. "What is the connection of that ma_ith my childhood and life?" he asked himself without finding an answer. An_uddenly a new unexpected memory from that realm of pure and loving childhoo_resented itself to him. He remembered Natasha as he had seen her for th_irst time at the ball in 1810, with her slender neck and arms and with _rightened happy face ready for rapture, and love and tenderness for her,
stronger and more vivid than ever, awoke in his soul. He now remembered th_onnection that existed between himself and this man who was dimly gazing a_im through tears that filled his swollen eyes. He remembered everything, an_cstatic pity and love for that man overflowed his happy heart.
Prince Andrew could no longer restrain himself and wept tender loving tear_or his fellow men, for himself, and for his own and their errors.
"Compassion, love of our brothers, for those who love us and for those wh_ate us, love of our enemies; yes, that love which God preached on earth an_hich Princess Mary taught me and I did not understand—that is what made m_orry to part with life, that is what remained for me had I lived. But now i_s too late. I know it!"