of our quarrels
and affronts matter? I love and forgive everybody now."

When the Emperor had passed nearly all the regiments, the troops began
a ceremonial march past him, and Rostov on Bedouin, recently purchased
from Denisov, rode past too, at the rear of his squadron--that is, alone
and in full view of the Emperor.

Before he reached him, Rostov, who was a splendid horseman, spurred
Bedouin twice and successfully put him to the showy trot in which the
animal went when excited. Bending his foaming muzzle to his chest, his
tail extended, Bedouin, as if also conscious of the Emperor's eye
upon him, passed splendidly, lifting his feet with a high and graceful
action, as if flying through the air without touching the ground.

Rostov himself, his legs well back and his stomach drawn in and feeling
himself one with his horse, rode past the Emperor with a frowning but
blissful face "like a vewy devil," as Denisov expressed it.

"Fine fellows, the Pavlograds!" remarked the Emperor.

"My God, how happy I should be if he ordered me to leap into the fire
this instant!" thought Rostov.

When the review was over, the newly arrived officers, and also
Kutuzov's, collected in groups and began to talk about the awards, about
the Austrians and their uniforms, about their lines, about Bonaparte,
and how badly the latter would fare now, especially if the Essen corps
arrived and Prussia took our side.

But the talk in every group was chiefly about the Emperor Alexander. His
every word and movement was described with ecstasy.

They all had but one wish: to advance as soon as possible against the
enemy under the Emperor's command. Commanded by the Emperor himself
they could not fail to vanquish anyone, be it whom it might: so thought
Rostov and most of the officers after the review.

All were then more confident of victory than the winning of two battles
would have made them.

CHAPTER IX

The day after the review, Boris, in his best uniform and with his
comrade Berg's best wishes for success, rode to Olmutz to see Bolkonski,
wishing to profit by his friendliness and obtain for himself the best
post he could--preferably that of adjutant to some important personage,
a position in the army which seemed to him most attractive. "It is all
very well for Rostov, whose father sends him ten thousand rubles at a
time, to talk about not wishing to cringe to anybody and not be anyone's
lackey, but I who have nothing but my brain