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Pagina 894 de 3800

Autor: Leo Tolstoy

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The stretchers moved on. At every jolt he again felt unendurable
pain; his feverishness increased and he grew delirious. Visions
of his father, wife, sister, and future son, and the tenderness
he had felt the night before the battle, the figure of the
insignificant little Napoleon, and above all this the lofty sky,
formed the chief subjects of his delirious fancies.
The quiet home life and peaceful happiness of Bald Hills
presented itself to him. He was already enjoying that happiness
when that little Napoleon had suddenly appeared with his
unsympathizing look of shortsighted delight at the misery of
others, and doubts and torments had followed, and only the
heavens promised peace. Toward morning all these dreams melted
and merged into the chaos and darkness of unconciousness and
oblivion which in the opinion of Napoleon's doctor, Larrey, was
much more likely to end in death than in convalescence.
"He is a nervous, bilious subject," said Larrey, "and will not
recover."

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