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Page 939 of 3800

Author: Leo Tolstoy

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The old count rose once more, glanced at a note lying beside his
plate, and proposed a toast, "To the health of the hero of our
last campaign, Prince Peter Ivanovich Bagration!" and again his
blue eyes grew moist. "Hurrah!" cried the three hundred voices
again, but instead of the band a choir began singing a cantata
composed by Paul Ivanovich Kutuzov:
Russians! O'er all barriers on! Courage conquest guarantees; Have
we not Bagration? He brings foemen to their knees,... etc.
As soon as the singing was over, another and another toast was
proposed and Count Ilya Rostov became more and more moved, more
glass was smashed, and the shouting grew louder. They drank to
Bekleshev, Narýshkin, Uvarov, Dolgorukov, Apraksin, Valuev, to
the committee, to all the club members and to all the club
guests, and finally to Count Ilya Rostov separately, as the
organizer of the banquet. At that toast, the count took out his
handkerchief and, covering his face, wept outright.
CHAPTER IV

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