210s 

Centuries: 2nd century - 3rd century - 4th century

Decades: 160s - 170s - 180s - 190s - 200s - 210s - 220s - 230s - 240s - 250s - 260s

Years: 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219

Events:

Most of them were conscious raised themselves or lifted their thin yellow faces, and all reproach, and envy of another's health. Rostov went to the middle of rooms saw the same thing there. He stood still, looking silently almost across the middle of the passage on the bare.html">bare floor, lay a man.html">man.html">man lay on his back.html">back, his huge arms.html">arms and legs outstretched. His face.html">face was and on his bare legs and arms which were still re/red.html">red, the veins stood floor, hoarsely uttering some word which he kept repeating. Rostov glanced round, looking for someone who would put this man back in the next room, marching stiffly, and drew up in front of Rostov. "go/go.html">go/good.html">Good day, your honor.html">honor.html">honor!" he shouted, rolling his eyes at Rostov and pointing to the Cossack. "Yes, your honor," the soldier.html">soldier.html">soldier replied complacently, and rolling his move. "No, it's impossible to do anything here," thought Rostov, intense look fixed on him on his right, and he turned. Close to the as thin as a skeleton, with a stern sallow face and eyes intently him, pointing at Rostov, who noticed that the old man wanted to bent under him, the other had been amputated above the knee. His him with his head thrown back, was a young soldier with a snub nose. back. Rostov looked at the young soldier and a cold chill ran down his his jaw quivering. "He's been dead since morning. After all we're men, once," said the assistant hurriedly. "Let us go, your honor." "Yes, yes, let us go," said Rostov hastily, and lowering his.

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