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著者: Leo Tolstoy

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"I am not jesting," Bilibin went on. "Nothing is truer or sadder.
These gentlemen ride onto the bridge alone and wave white
handkerchiefs; they assure the officer on duty that they, the
marshals, are on their way to negotiate with Prince Auersperg. He
lets them enter the tete-de-pont. * They spin him a thousand
gasconades, saying that the war is over, that the Emperor Francis
is arranging a meeting with Bonaparte, that they desire to see
Prince Auersperg, and so on. The officer sends for Auersperg;
these gentlemen embrace the officers, crack jokes, sit on the
cannon, and meanwhile a French battalion gets to the bridge
unobserved, flings the bags of incendiary material into the
water, and approaches the tete-de-pont. At length appears the
lieutenant general, our dear Prince Auersperg von Mautern
himself. 'Dearest foe! Flower of the Austrian army, hero of the
Turkish wars! Hostilities are ended, we can shake one another's
hand....

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