“Well, and you, young man,” said he. “How do you feel, mon brave ?”

Though five minutes before, Prince Andréy had been able to say a few words to the soldiers who were carrying him, now with his eyes fixed straight on Napoleon, he was silent.⁠ ⁠… So insignificant at that moment seemed to him all the interests that engrossed Napoleon, so mean did his hero himself with his paltry vanity and joy in victory appear, compared to the lofty, equitable, and kindly sky which he had seen and understood, that he could not answer him.

Everything seemed so futile and insignificant in comparison with the stern and solemn train of thought that weakness from loss of blood, suffering, and the nearness of death aroused in him. Looking into Napoleon’s eyes Prince Andréy thought of the insignificance of greatness, the unimportance of life which no one could understand, and the still greater unimportance of death, the meaning of which no one alive could understand or explain.