On guardianship business connected with the Ryazan estate, Prince Andrei needed to see the district marshal of the nobility. The marshal was Count Ilya Andreich Rostov, and in the middle of May Prince Andrei set out to visit him.

It was already the hot season of spring. The forest had fully clothed itself, there was dust, and it was so hot that, driving past water, one longed to bathe.

Prince Andrei, low-spirited and preoccupied with considerations of what and how he must ask the marshal about his affairs, was driving up the avenue of the garden toward the Rostovs' house at Otradnoe. To the right, from behind the trees, he heard a gay feminine cry, and saw a crowd of girls running to cut across the path of his carriage. Ahead of the others, nearer, running up to the carriage, came a black-haired, very slender, strangely slender, black-eyed girl in a yellow cotton dress, with a white kerchief tied over her head from under which strands of combed-out hair escaped. The girl was shouting something, but, recognizing a stranger, she ran back laughing without glancing at him.

Prince Andrei suddenly felt a pang, he knew not why. The day was so fine, the sun so bright, everything around so gay; and this slender, pretty girl did not know and did not wish to know of his existence, and was content and happy in some separate — surely foolish — but merry and happy life of her own. "What is she so glad about? What is she thinking of? Not of the military regulations, not of the arrangement of the Ryazan quitrents. What is she thinking of? And what makes her happy?" Prince Andrei involuntarily asked himself with curiosity.

In 1809 Count Ilya Andreich was living at Otradnoe just as he had before, that is, entertaining almost the whole province, with hunts, theatricals, dinners, and musicians. Like every new guest, he was glad of Prince Andrei, and almost by force made him stay the night.

In the course of the tedious day, during which Prince Andrei was kept occupied by his elderly hosts and the most honored of the guests — of whom, on the occasion of the approaching name-day, the old count's house was full — Bolkonsky, glancing several times at Natasha, who was laughing and making merry among the other, younger half of the company, kept asking himself: "What is she thinking of? What is she so glad about?"

In the evening, left alone in the new place, he could not fall asleep for a long time. He read, then put out the candle, then lit it again. It was hot in the room, with the shutters closed from within. He was annoyed with that foolish old man (so he called Rostov) who had detained him, assuring him that the necessary papers were in the town and had not yet been brought, and he was annoyed with himself for having stayed.

Prince Andrei got up and went to the window to open it. As soon as he opened the shutters, the moonlight, as though it had long been waiting on the watch at the window for this, burst into the room. He opened the window. The night was fresh and motionlessly bright. Right before the window was a row of clipped trees, black on one side and silvery-lit on the other. Beneath the trees was some kind of lush, moist, curly vegetation with silvery leaves and stems here and there. Farther off, beyond the black trees, was a roof glistening with dew; to the right a great curly tree with a brilliant white trunk and boughs, and above it the nearly full moon in a bright, almost starless spring sky. Prince Andrei leaned his elbows on the window, and his eyes rested on that sky.

Prince Andrei's room was on the middle floor; in the rooms above him people were also living and were not asleep. He heard women's voices overhead.

— Only once more, — said a woman's voice from above, which Prince Andrei recognized at once.

— But when are you going to sleep? — answered another voice.

— I won't, I can't sleep, what am I to do! Well, for the last time...

The two women's voices sang some musical phrase that formed the end of something.

— Ah, how lovely! Now, to sleep, and that's the end of it.

— You sleep, but I can't, — answered the first voice, which had come nearer to the window. She had evidently leaned right out of the window, for the rustle of her dress and even her breathing could be heard. Everything had grown still and turned to stone, like the moon and its light and the shadows. Prince Andrei, too, was afraid to stir, lest he betray his involuntary presence.

— Sonya! Sonya! — the first voice was heard again. — Well, how can one sleep! Just look, what loveliness! Ah, what loveliness! Do wake up, Sonya, — she said almost with tears in her voice. — Why, there has never, never been such an exquisite night.

Sonya answered something reluctantly.

— No, do look, what a moon!... Ah, how lovely! Come here. Darling, dearest, come here. Well, do you see? I feel I could just squat down like this, take myself under the knees — tighter, as tight as possible — one must strain — and I'd fly away. Like this!

— Stop it, you'll fall.

A scuffle was heard, and Sonya's displeased voice:

— It's past one o'clock, you know.

— Ah, you only spoil everything for me. Well, go, go.

Again all was silent, but Prince Andrei knew that she was still sitting there; now and then he heard a soft stirring, now and then a sigh.

— Ah, my God! My God! What is this! — she suddenly cried out. — To sleep, then, if we must! — and she slammed the window shut.

"And my existence is nothing to her!" thought Prince Andrei while he listened to her talk, for some reason expecting and fearing that she would say something about him. "And there she is again! And as if on purpose!" he thought. There suddenly arose in his soul such an unexpected tangle of youthful thoughts and hopes, contradicting his whole life, that, feeling himself unable to make sense of his own state, he fell asleep at once.