Next day he woke late. Recalling his recent impressions, the first thought that came into his mind was that today he had to be presented to the Emperor Francis; he remembered the minister of war, the polite Austrian adjutant, Bilibin, and last night's conversation. Having dressed for his attendance at court in full parade uniform, which he had not worn for a long time, he went into Bilibin's study, fresh, animated, and handsome, with his hand in a sling. In the study were four gentlemen of the diplomatic corps. With Prince Ippolit Kuragin, who was a secretary to the embassy, Bolkonsky was already acquainted. Bilibin introduced him to the others.

The gentlemen frequenting Bilibin's house were young, wealthy, gay society men, who here, as in Vienna, formed a special set which Bilibin, their leader, called ours, les nôtres. This set, consisting almost exclusively of diplomats, evidently had its own high-society interests quite apart from war and politics, interests that centered round certain women and the clerical side of the service. These gentlemen evidently received Prince Andrei willingly, as one of themselves (an honor they did not do to everyone). From politeness and to start the conversation, they asked him a few questions about the army and the battle, and then the talk went off again into merry jests and gossip.

— But the best of it is, — said one, telling of the misfortune of a fellow diplomat, — the best of it is that the chancellor told him straight to his face that his appointment to London was a promotion and that he ought to look at it in that way. Can you see his face at that?...

— But the worst of it all, gentlemen, I must give Kuragin away: a man is in distress, and this Don Juan, this terrible man, is taking advantage of it!

Prince Ippolit was lying in a Voltaire chair with his legs over the arm. He laughed.

Parlez-moi de ça, [Tell me about it,] — he said.

— Oh, the Don Juan! Oh, the serpent! — voices were heard saying.

— You don't know, Bolkonsky, — Bilibin turned to Prince Andrei, — that all the atrocities of the French army (I nearly said of the Russian army) are nothing compared to what this man has done among the women.

La femme est la compagne de l'homme, [Woman is man's companion,] — announced Prince Ippolit, and began looking through his lorgnette at his elevated legs.

Bilibin and our men burst out laughing, looking straight into Ippolit's eyes. Prince Andrei saw that this Ippolit, of whom he had to admit he had been almost jealous on his wife's account, was the butt of this society.

— No, I must treat you to Kuragin, — Bilibin said softly to Bolkonsky. — He is charming when he discusses politics; you must see that gravity.

He sat down beside Ippolit and wrinkling his forehead began talking politics with him. Prince Andrei and the others gathered round the two.

— Le cabinet de Berlin ne peut pas exprimer un sentiment d'alliance, — began Ippolit, looking round with importance at the others, — sans exprimer... comme dans sa dernière note... vous comprenez... vous comprenez... et puis si sa Majesté l'Empereur ne déroge pas au principe de notre alliance... [The Berlin cabinet cannot express a feeling of alliance without expressing... as in its last note... you understand... you understand... and then if His Majesty the Emperor does not derogate from the principle of our alliance...]

— Attendez, je n'ai pas fini... — he said to Prince Andrei, seizing him by the arm. — Je suppose que l'intervention sera plus forte que la non-intervention. Et... — He paused. — On ne pourra pas imputer à la fin de non-recevoir notre dépêche du 28 novembre. Voilà comment tout cela finira. [Wait, I have not finished... I suppose that intervention will be stronger than non-intervention. And... It will be impossible to attribute the end of not receiving to our dispatch of November 28. That is how it will all end.]

And he let go of Bolkonsky's arm, signifying that now he had quite finished.

Démosthènes, je te reconnais au caillou que tu as caché dans ta bouche d'or! [Demosthenes, I recognize you by the pebble you have hidden in your golden mouth!] — said Bilibin, whose cap of hair had moved forward on his head from pleasure.

Everybody laughed, and Ippolit louder than anyone. He was evidently suffering, breathing heavily, but could not help giving way to a wild laugh that stretched his usually impassive face.

— Well now, gentlemen, — said Bilibin, — Bolkonsky is my guest in this house and here in Brünn, and I want to entertain him as far as I can with all the pleasures of life here. If we were in Vienna it would be easy; but here, dans ce vilain trou morave, [in this vile Moravian hole,] it is more difficult, and I beg you all to help me. Il faut lui faire les honneurs de Brünn. [We must do him the honors of Brünn.] You undertake the theaters, I will undertake society, and you, Ippolit, of course, the women.

— We must show him Amelie, she is charming! — said one of ours, kissing his fingertips.

— In general we must turn this bloodthirsty soldier, — said Bilibin, — to more humane views.

— I shall hardly be able to avail myself of your hospitality, gentlemen, and it is time for me to go now, — said Bolkonsky, looking at his watch.

— Where to?

— To the Emperor.

— Oh, oh! oh!

— Well, au revoir, Bolkonsky! — Good-bye, Prince; come back to dinner as early as you can, — voices were heard saying. — We are taking you in hand.

— Try to praise the order in supplying provisions and the routing as much as possible when you speak to the Emperor, — said Bilibin, accompanying Bolkonsky to the anteroom.

— I should like to praise them, but as far as I know I cannot, — answered Bolkonsky, smiling.

— Well, talk as much as you can anyway. He has a passion for giving audiences, but he does not like talking himself and can't do it, as you will see.