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Iogel's were the most enjoyable balls in Moscow. So said the
mothers as they watched their young people executing their newly
learned steps, and so said the youths and maidens themselves as
they danced till they were ready to drop, and so said the grown-up
young men and women who came to these balls with an air of condescension
and found them most enjoyable. That year two marriages had come
of these balls. The two pretty young Princesses Gorchakov met
suitors there and were married and so further increased the fame
of these dances. What distinguished them from others was the absence
of host or hostess and the presence of the good-natured Iogel,
flying about like a feather and bowing according to the rules
of his art, as he collected the tickets from all his visitors.
There was the fact that only those came who wished to dance and
amuse themselves as girls of thirteen and fourteen do who are
wearing long dresses for the first time. With scarcely any exceptions
they all were, or seemed to be, pretty- so rapturous were their
smiles and so sparkling their eyes. Sometimes the best of the
pupils, of whom Natasha, who was exceptionally graceful, was first,
even danced the pas de chale, but at this last ball only the ecossaise,
the anglaise, and the mazurka, which was just coming into fashion,
were danced. Iogel had taken a ballroom in Bezukhov's house, and
the ball, as everyone said, was a great success. There were many
pretty girls and the Rostov girls were among the prettiest. They
were both particularly happy and gay. That evening, proud of Dolokhov's
proposal, her refusal, and her explanation with Nicholas, Sonya
twirled about before she left home so that the maid could hardly
get her hair plaited, and she was transparently radiant with impulsive
joy.
Natasha no less proud of her first long dress and of being
at a real ball was even happier. They were both dressed in white
muslin with pink ribbons.
Natasha fell in love the very moment she entered the ballroom.
She was not in love with anyone in particular, but with everyone.
Whatever person she happened to look at she was in love with for
that moment.
"Oh, how delightful it is!" she kept saying, running
up to Sonya.
Nicholas and Denisov were walking up and down, looking with
kindly patronage at the dancers.
"How sweet she is- she will be a weal beauty!" said
Denisov.
"Who?"
"Countess Natasha," answered Denisov.
"And how she dances! What gwace!" he said again
after a pause.
"Who are you talking about?"
"About your sister," ejaculated Denisov testily.
Rostov smiled.
"My dear count, you were one of my best pupils- you must
dance," said little Iogel coming up to Nicholas. "Look
how many charming young ladies-" He turned with the same
request to Denisov who was also a former pupil of his.
"No, my dear fellow, I'll be a wallflower," said
Denisov. "Don't you wecollect what bad use I made of your
lessons?"
"Oh no!" said Iogel, hastening to reassure him.
"You were only inattentive, but you had talent- oh yes, you
had talent!"
The band struck up the newly introduced mazurka. Nicholas
could not refuse Iogel and asked Sonya to dance. Denisov sat down
by the old ladies and, leaning on his saber and beating time with
his foot, told them something funny and kept them amused, while
he watched the young people dancing, Iogel with Natasha, his pride
and his best pupil, were the first couple. Noiselessly, skillfully
stepping with his little feet in low shoes, Iogel flew first across
the hall with Natasha, who, though shy, went on carefully executing
her steps. Denisov did not take his eyes off her and beat time
with his saber in a way that clearly indicated that if he was
not dancing it was because he would not and not because he could
not. In the middle of a figure he beckoned to Rostov who was passing:
"This is not at all the thing," he said. "What
sort of Polish mazuwka is this? But she does dance splendidly."
Knowing that Denisov had a reputation even in Poland for the
masterly way in which he danced the mazurka, Nicholas ran up to
Natasha:
"Go and choose Denisov. He is a real dancer, a wonder!"
he said.
When it came to Natasha's turn to choose a partner, she rose
and, tripping rapidly across in her little shoes trimmed with
bows, ran timidly to the corner where Denisov sat. She saw that
everybody was looking at her and waiting. Nicholas saw that Denisov
was refusing though he smiled delightedly. He ran up to them.
"Please, Vasili Dmitrich," Natasha was saying, "do
come!"
"Oh no, let me off, Countess," Denisov replied.
"Now then, Vaska," said Nicholas.
"They coax me as if I were Vaska the cat!" said
Denisov jokingly.
"I'll sing for you a whole evening," said Natasha.
"Oh, the faiwy! She can do anything with me!" said
Denisov, and he unhooked his saber. He came out from behind the
chairs, clasped his partner's hand firmly, threw back his head,
and advanced his foot, waiting for the beat. Only on horse back
and in the mazurka was Denisov's short stature not noticeable
and he looked the fine fellow he felt himself to be. At the right
beat of the music he looked sideways at his partner with a merry
and triumphant air, suddenly stamped with one foot, bounded from
the floor like a ball, and flew round the room taking his partner
with him. He glided silently on one foot half across the room,
and seeming not to notice the chairs was dashing straight at them,
when suddenly, clinking his spurs and spreading out his legs,
he stopped short on his heels, stood so a second, stamped on the
spot clanking his spurs, whirled rapidly round, and, striking
his left heel against his right, flew round again in a circle.
Natasha guessed what he meant to do, and abandoning herself to
him followed his lead hardly knowing how. First he spun her round,
holding her now with his left, now with his right hand, then falling
on one knee he twirled her round him, and again jumping up, dashed
so impetuously forward that it seemed as if he would rush through
the whole suite of rooms without drawing breath, and then he suddenly
stopped and performed some new and unexpected steps. When at last,
smartly whirling his partner round in front of her chair, he drew
up with a click of his spurs and bowed to her, Natasha did not
even make him a curtsy. She fixed her eyes on him in amazement,
smiling as if she did not recognize him.
"What does this mean?" she brought out.
Although Iogel did not acknowledge this to be the real mazurka,
everyone was delighted with Denisov's skill, he was asked again
and again as a partner, and the old men began smilingly to talk
about Poland and the good old days. Denisov, flushed after the
mazurka and mopping himself with his handkerchief, sat down by
Natasha and did not leave her for the rest of the evening.
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