Bennigsen and his suite, Pierre among them, inspect and criticize the disposition of men. Glad to correct an obvious blunder of Kutuzov's, Bennigsen orders the left flank to another position without bothering to inform the commander-in-chief. Bennigsen did not realize these troops were originally placed as an ambush for the enemy.
Prince Andrey feels excited and nervous about the coming battle. With his death perhaps imminent, he recalls the vanity of his past life.
Glory, good society, woman's love, fatherland seem meaningless phrases now. Pierre's arrival interrupts his meditations. Regarding his friend coldly, even hostilely, Andrey seems unwilling to talk privately with Pierre. As they take tea with other officers, Bolkonsky speaks animatedly about the grimness of war. Its sole object is murder, he says, and ideas like magnanimity to prisoners and battling for one's allies makes a polite recreation out of these horrors. Vile as slaughter and mutilation may be, glorifying victory, offering thanksgiving to the dead belies the intensity of the sacrifice. War is not a game of chess; in the heat of battle a pawn is often more powerful than a knight. The outcome of the battle, he says, depends on what each fighting man feels inside himself. Pierre feels this is his last meeting with Prince Andrey and he departs sadly. Unable to sleep that night, Bolkonsky recalls his best moments with Natasha. Where others saw only a fresh young girl, he understood her very soul. The idea of Anatole, alive and happy, angers him anew and he paces up and down.
