Dead Souls
bad example to the countryside, he and Chichikov agreed to carry through
the transaction PRIVATELY, lest, otherwise, a scandal should arise.
“In return,” said Chichikov, “would you mind doing me the following
favour? I desire to mediate in the matter of your difference with the
Brothers Platonov. I believe that you wish to acquire some additional
land? Is not that so?”
[Here there occurs a hiatus in the original.]
Everything in life fulfils its function, and Chichikov’s tour in search
of a fortune was carried out so successfully that not a little money
passed into his pockets. The system employed was a good one: he did not
steal, he merely used. And every one of us at times does the same: one
man with regard to Government timber, and another with regard to a sum
belonging to his employer, while a third defrauds his children for the
sake of an actress, and a fourth robs his peasantry for the sake of
smart furniture or a carriage. What can one do when one is surrounded
on every side with roguery, and everywhere there are insanely expensive
restaurants, masked balls, and dances to the music of gipsy bands? To
abstain when every one else is indulging in these things, and fashion
commands, is difficult indeed!
Chichikov was for setting forth again, but the roads had now got into a
bad state, and, in addition, there was in preparation a second fair--one
for the dvoriane only. The former fair had been held for the sale of
horses, cattle, cheese, and other peasant produce, and the buyers had
been merely cattle-jobbers and kulaks; but this time the function was
to be one for the sale of manorial produce which had been bought up by
wholesale dealers at Nizhni Novgorod, and then transferred hither. To
the fair, of course, came those ravishers of the Russian purse who, in
the shape of Frenchmen with pomades and Frenchwomen with hats, make away
with money earned by blood and hard work, and, like the locusts of Egypt
(to use Kostanzhoglo’s term) not only devour their prey, but also dig
holes in the ground and leave behind their eggs.
Although, unfortunately, the occurrence of a bad harvest retained many
landowners at their country houses, the local tchinovniks (whom the
failure of the harvest did NOT touch) proceeded to let themselves go--as
also, to their undoing, did their wives. The reading of books of the
type diffused, in these modern days, for the inoculation of humanity
with a craving for new and superior amenities of life had caused every
one to conceive a passion for experimenting with the latest luxury; and
to meet this want the French wine merchant opened a new establishment
in the shape of a restaurant as had never before been heard of in the
province--a restaurant where supper could be procured on credit as
regarded one-half, and for an unprecedentedly low sum as regarded the
other. This exactly suited both heads of boards and clerks who were
living in hope of being able some day to resume their bribes-taking from
suitors. There also developed a tendency to compete in the matter of
horses and liveried flunkeys; with the result that despite the damp and
snowy weather exceedingly elegant turnouts took to parading backwards
and forwards. Whence these equipages had come God only knows, but at
least they would not have disgraced St. Petersburg. From within them
merchants and attorneys doffed their caps to ladies, and inquired after
their health, and likewise it became a rare sight to see a bearded man
in a rough fur cap, since every one now went about clean-shaven and with
dirty teeth, after the European fashion.
“Sir, I beg of you to inspect my goods,” said a tradesman as Chichikov
was passing his establishment. “Within my doors you will find a large
variety of clothing.”
“Have you a cloth of bilberry-coloured check?” inquired the person
addressed.
“I have cloths of the finest kind,” replied the tradesman, raising his
cap with one hand, and pointing to his shop with the other. Chichikov
entered, and in a trice the proprietor had dived beneath the counter,
and appeared on the other side of it, with his back to his wares and his
face towards the customer. Leaning forward on the tips of his fingers,
and indicating his merchandise with just the suspicion of a nod, he
requested the gentleman to specify exactly the species of cloth which he
required.
“A cloth with an olive-coloured or a bottle-tinted spot in its
pattern--anything in the nature of bilberry,” explained Chichikov.
“That being so, sir, I may say that I am about to show you clothes of a
quality which even our illustrious capitals could not surpass. Hi, boy!
Reach down that roll up there--number 34. No, NOT that one, fool! Such
fellows as you are always too good for your job. There--hand it to me.
This is indeed a nice pattern!”
Unfolding the garment, the tradesman thrust it close to Chichikov’s nose
in order that he might not only handle, but also smell it.
“Excellent, but not what I want,” pronounced Chichikov. “Formerly I was
in the Custom’s Department, and therefore wear none but cloth of the
latest make. What I want is of a ruddier pattern than this--not exactly
a bottle-tinted pattern, but something approaching bilberry.”
“I understand, sir. Of course you require only the very newest thing. A
cloth of that kind I DO possess, sir, and though excessive in price, it
is of a quality to match.”
Carrying the roll of stuff to the light--even stepping into the street
for the purpose--the shopman unfolded his prize with the words, “A truly
beautiful shade! A cloth of smoked grey, shot with flame colour!”
The material met with the customer’s approval, a price was agreed upon,
and with incredible celerity the vendor made up the purchase into a
brown-paper parcel, and stowed it away in Chichikov’s koliaska.
At this moment a voice asked to be shown a black frockcoat.
“The devil take me if it isn’t Khlobuev!” muttered our hero, turning his
back upon the newcomer. Unfortunately the other had seen him.
“Come, come, Paul Ivanovitch!” he expostulated. “Surely you do not
intend to overlook me? I have been searching for you everywhere, for I
have something important to say to you.”
“My dear sir, my very dear sir,” said Chichikov as he pressed Khlobuev’s
hand, “I can assure you that, had I the necessary leisure, I should
at all times be charmed to converse with you.” And mentally he added:
“Would that the Evil One would fly away with you!”
Almost at the same time Murazov, the great landowner, entered the
shop. As he did so our hero hastened to exclaim: “Why, it is Athanasi
Vassilievitch! How ARE you, my very dear sir?”
“Well enough,” replied Murazov, removing his cap (Khlobuev and the
shopman had already done the same). “How, may I ask, are YOU?”
“But poorly,” replied Chichikov, “for of late I have been troubled with
indigestion, and my sleep is bad. I do not get sufficient exercise.”
However, instead of probing deeper into the subject of Chichikov’s
ailments, Murazov turned to Khlobuev.
“I saw you enter the shop,” he said, “and therefore followed you, for
I have something important for your ear. Could you spare me a minute or
two?”
“Certainly, certainly,” said Khlobuev, and the pair left the shop
together.
“I wonder what is afoot between them,” said Chichikov to himself.
“A wise and noble gentleman, Athanasi Vassilievitch!” remarked the
tradesman. Chichikov made no reply save a gesture.
“Paul Ivanovitch, I have been looking for you everywhere,” Lienitsin’s
voice said from behind him, while again the tradesman hastened to remove
his cap. “Pray come home with me, for I have something to say to you.”
Chichikov scanned the speaker’s face, but could make nothing of it.
Paying the tradesman for the cloth, he left the shop.
Meanwhile Murazov had conveyed Khlobuev to his rooms.
“Tell me,” he said to his guest, “exactly how your affairs stand. I take
it that, after all, your aunt left you something?”
“It would be difficult to say whether or not my affairs are improved,”
replied Khlobuev. “True, fifty souls and thirty thousand roubles came
to me from Madame Khanasarova, but I had to pay them away to satisfy my
debts. Consequently I am once more destitute. But the important point is
that there was trickery connected with the legacy, and shameful trickery
at that. Yes, though it may surprise you, it is a fact that that fellow
Chichikov--”
“Yes, Semen Semenovitch, but, before you go on to speak of Chichikov,
pray tell me something about yourself, and how much, in your opinion,
would be sufficient to clear you of your difficulties?”
“My difficulties are grievous,” replied Khlobuev. “To rid myself of
them, and also to have enough to go on with, I should need to acquire
at least a hundred thousand roubles, if not more. In short, things are
becoming impossible for me.”
“And, had you the money, what should you do with it?”
“I should rent a tenement, and devote myself to the education of my
children. Not a thought should I give to myself, for my career is over,
seeing that it is impossible for me to re-enter the Civil Service and I
am good for nothing else.”
“Nevertheless, when a man is leading an idle life he is apt to incur
temptations which shun his better-employed brother.”
“Yes, but beyond question I am good for nothing, so broken is my health,
and such a martyr I am to dyspepsia.”
“But how do you propose to live without working? How can a man like you
exist without a post or a position of any kind? Look around you at the
works of God. Everything has its proper function, and pursues its proper
course. Even a stone can be used for one purpose or another. How, then,
can it be right for a man who is a thinking being to remain a drone?”
“But I should not be a drone, for I should employ myself with the
education of my children.”
“No, Semen Semenovitch--no: THAT you would find the hardest task of
all. For how can a man educate his children who has never even educated
himself? Instruction can be imparted to children only through the medium
of example; and would a life like yours furnish them with a profitable
example--a life which has been spent in idleness and the playing of
cards? No, Semen Semenovitch. You had far better hand your children over
to me. Otherwise they will be ruined. Do not think that I am jesting.
Idleness has wrecked your life, and you must flee from it. Can a man
live with nothing to keep him in place? Even a journeyman labourer who
earns the barest pittance may take an interest in his occupation.”
“Athanasi Vassilievitch, I have tried to overcome myself, but what
further resource lies open to me? Can I who am old and incapable
re-enter the Civil Service and spend year after year at a desk with
youths who are just starting their careers? Moreover, I have lost the
trick of taking bribes; I should only hinder both myself and others;
while, as you know, it is a department which has an established caste
of its own. Therefore, though I have considered, and even attempted to
obtain, every conceivable post, I find myself incompetent for them all.
Only in a monastery should I--”
“Nay, nay. Monasteries, again, are only for those who have worked. To
those who have spent their youth in dissipation such havens say what
the ant said to the dragonfly--namely, ‘Go you away, and return to your
dancing.’ Yes, even in a monastery do folk toil and toil--they do
not sit playing whist.” Murazov looked at Khlobuev, and added: “Semen
Semenovitch, you are deceiving both yourself and me.”
Poor Khlobuev could not utter a word in reply, and Murazov began to feel
sorry for him.
“Listen, Semen Semenovitch,” he went on. “I know that you say your
prayers, and that you go to church, and that you observe both Matins and