 Dead Souls Part 1 Chapter 5 Section 2 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Dead Souls by Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol Translated by DJ Hogarth Part 1 Chapter 5 Section 2 Read by Ewan Bailis This is my wife, Theodulia Ivanovna, said Sabakovic. Chichikov approached and took her hand. The fact that she raised it nearly to the level of his lips, apprised him of the circumstances that it had just been rinsed in cucumber oil. My dear, allow me to introduce Paul Ivanovich Chichikov, added Sabakovic. He has the honour of being acquainted with both our governor and with our postmaster. Upon this, Theodulia Ivanovna requested her guest to be seated and accompanied the invitation with the kind of bow usually employed only by actresses who are playing the role of queens. Next, she took a seat upon the sofa, drew around her, her marino gown, and sat thereafter without moving an eyelid or an eyebrow. As for Chichikov, he glanced upwards and once more caught sight of Canaris with his fat thighs, an interminable moustache, a obelina and the blackbird. For fully five minutes all present preserved the complete silence, the only sound audible being that of the blackbird's beak against the wooden floor of the cage as the creature fished for grains of corn. Meanwhile, Chichikov again surveyed the room and saw that everything in it was massive and clumsy in the highest degree, as also that everything was curiously in keeping with the master of the house. For example, in one corner of the apartment there stood a hazlewood bureau with a bulging body on four grotesque legs, the perfect image of a bear. Also the tables and the chairs were of the same ponderous unrestful order and every single article in the room appeared to be saying either I too am a Sbachovic or I am exactly like Sbachovic. I heard speak of you one day when I was visiting the president of the council, said Chichikov, on perceiving that no one else had a mind to begin a conversation. That was on Thursday last, we had a very pleasant evening. Yes, on that occasion I was not there, replied Sbachovic. What a nice man he is. Who is, inquired Sbachovic, gazing into the corner by the stove. The president of the local council. Did he seem so to you? True, he is a mason, but he is also the greatest fool that the world ever saw. Chichikov started a little at this modern criticism, but soon pulled himself together again and continued. Of course every man has his weakness, yet the president seems to be an excellent fellow. And do you think the same of the governor? Yes, why not? Because there exists no greater rogue than he. What, the governor a rogue, ejaculated Chichikov, had a loss to understand how the official in question could come to be numbered with thieves. Let me say that I should never have guessed it. Permit me also to remark that his conduct would hardly seem to bear out your opinion. He seems so gentle a man. And in proof of this, Chichikov cited the purses which the governor knitted, and also expiated on the mildness of his features. He has the face of a robber, said Sabakowicz. Were you to give him a knife and to turn him loose on a turnpike, he would cut your throat for two copex. And the same with the vice governor. The pair are just Gog and Magog. Evidently he is not on good terms with them, thought Chichikov to himself. I had better pass on to the chief of police, with whom he does seem to be friendly. Accordingly, he added aloud, for my own part, I should give the preference to the head of the John Darmory. What a frank outspoken nature he has, and what an element of simplicity does his expression contain. He is mean to the core, remarked Sabakowicz coldly. He will sell you and cheat you, and then dine at your table. Yes, I know them all, and every one of them is a swindler, and the town and nest of rascals engaged in robbing one another. Not a man of the lot is there, but would sell Christ. Yet stay, one decent fellow there is, the public prosecutor, though even he, if the truth be told, is little better than a pig. After these eulogia, Chichikov saw that it would be useless to continue running through the list of officials. More especially since suddenly he had remembered that Sabakowicz was not at any time given to commending his fellow man. Let us go to lunch and my dear, put in Theodulia Ivanovna to her spouse. Yes, pray come to table, said Sabakowicz to his guest, whereupon they consumed the customary glass of vodka, accompanied by sundry snacks of salted cucumber and other dainties, with which Russians, both in town and country, preface a meal. Then they filed into the dining room, in the wake of the hostess, who sailed on ahead like a goose swimming across a pond. The small dining table was found to be laid for four persons, the fourth place being occupied by a lady or a young girl. It would have been difficult to say which exactly. Who might have been either a relative, the housekeeper or a casual visitor. Certain persons in the world exist, not as personalities in themselves, but as spots or specs on the personalities of others. Always they are to be seen sitting in the same place and holding their heads at exactly the same angle, so that one comes within an ace of mistaking them for furniture and thinks to oneself that never since the day of their birth can they have spoken a single word. My dear, said Sobekowicz, the cabbage soup is excellent. With that, he finished his portion and helped himself to a generous measure of niania, footnote, literally nurse made, end of footnote. The dish which follows chi and consists of a sheep's stomach stuffed with black porridge, brains and other things. What niania this is, he added to Chichikof, never would you get such stuff in a town where one is given a devil knows what. Nevertheless, the governor keeps a fair table, said Chichikof. Yes, but do you know what all the stuff is made of, retorted Sobekowicz? If you did know, you would never touch it. Of course, I am not in a position to say how it is prepared, but at least the pork cutlass and the boiled fish seemed excellent. Ah, it might have been thought so, yet I know the way in which such things are bought in the marketplace. They are bought by some rascal of a cook whom a Frenchman has taught how to skin a tomcat and then serve it up as hair. Er, what horrible things you say, but in madame. Well my dear, that is how things are done, and it is no fault of mine that it is so. Moreover, everything that is left over, everything that we, pardon me for mentioning it, cast into the slot pail, is used by such folk for making soup. Always at table, you begin talking like this, objected his help meet. And why not? said Zabakovich. I tell you straight, that I would not eat such nastiness, even had I made it myself. Sugar a frog as much as you like, but never shall it pass my lips. Nor would I swallow a noyster, for I know only too well what a noyster may resemble. But have some mutton, friend Chichikov. It is a shoulder of mutton and very different stuff from the mutton which they cook in noble kitchens, mutton which has been kicking about the marketplace four days or more. All that sort of cookery has been invented by French and German doctors, and I should like to hang them for having done so. They go on prescribed diets and a hunger cure, as though what suits their flaccid German systems will agree with a Russian stomach. Such devices are no good at all. Zabakovich shook his head roughly. Fellows like those are forever talking of civilisation, as if that sort of thing was civilisation. Phew! Perhaps the speaker's concluding exclamation would have been even stronger had he not been seated at table. For myself, I will have none of it when I eat pork at a meal, give me the whole pig, when mutton, the whole sheep, when goose, the whole of the bird. Two dishes are better than a thousand, provided that one can eat of them as much as one wants. And he proceeded to put precept into practice by taking half the shoulder of mutton onto his plate and then devouring it down to the last morsel of gristle and bone. My word, reflected Chichikov, the fellow has a pretty good holding capacity. None of it for me, repeated Zabakovich, as he wiped his hands on his napkin. I don't intend to be a fellow named Plushkin, who owns eight hundred souls, yet dines worse than does my shepherd. Who is Plushkin? asked Chichikov. A miser, replied Zabakovich. Such a miser as never you could imagine. Even convicts in prison live better than he does. And he starves his servants as well. Really, ejaculated Chichikov, greatly interested. Should you then say that he has lost many peasants by death? Certainly, they keep dying like flies. Then, how far from here does he reside? About five verse. Only five verse? Let's claim Chichikov, feeling his heart beating joyously. Ort one when leaving your gates to turn to the right or to the left. I should be sorry to tell you the way to the house of such a cur, said Zabakovich, and man had far better to go to hell than to Plushkin's. Quite so, responded Chichikov, my only reason for asking you is that it interests me to become acquainted with any and every sort of locality. To the shoulder of mutton, there succeeded in turn cutlets, each one larger than a plate, a turkey of about the size of a calf, eggs, rice, pastry, and every conceivable thing which could possibly be put into a stomach. There the meal ended. When he rose from table, Chichikov felt as though a prude's weight were inside him. In the drawing room, the company found dessert awaiting them, in the shape of pears, plums and apples, but since neither host nor guest could tackle these particular dainties, the hostess removed them to another room. Taking advantage of her absence, Chichikov turned to Zabakovich, who, prone in an armchair, seemed after his ponderous meal to be capable of doing little beyond belching and grunting. Each such grunt or belch necessitated a subsequent signing of the cross over the mouth, and intimated to him a desire to have a little private conversation concerning a certain matter. At this moment the hostess returned. Here is more dessert, she said. Pray have a few reddishes stewed in honey. Later, later, replied Zabakovich, do you go to your room, and Paul Ivanovich and I will take off our coats and have a nap. Upon this the good lady expressed her readiness to send for feather beds and cushions, but her husband expressed the preference for slumbering in an armchair, and she therefore departed. When she had gone, Zabakovich inclined his head in an attitude of willingness to listen to Chichikov's business. Our hero began in a sort of detached manner, touching lightly upon the subject of the Russian Empire, and expatiating upon the immensity of the same, and saying that even the empire of ancient Rome had been of considerably smaller dimensions. Meanwhile, Zabakovich sat with his head drooping. From that, Chichikov went on to remark that according to the statutes of the said Russian Empire, which yielded to none in glory, so much so that foreigners marveled at it. Peasants on the census lists who had ended their earthly careers were nevertheless on the rendering of new lists returned equally with the living, to the end that the courts might be relieved of a multitude of trifling useless emendations which might complicate the already sufficiently complex mechanism of the state. Nevertheless, said Chichikov, the general equity of this measure did not obviate a certain amount of annoyance to landowners, since it forced them to pay upon a non-living article, the tax due upon a living. Hence, our hero concluded that, he, Chichikov, was prepared o into the personal respect which he felt for Zabakovich to relieve him in part of the irksome obligation referred to. In passing, it may be said that Chichikov referred to his principal point only guardedly, for he called the souls which he was seeking not dead, but nonexistent. Meanwhile, Zabakovich listened with bent head, though something like a trace of expression dawned in his face as he did so. Ordinarily, his body lacked a soul, or, if he did possess a soul, he seemed to keep it elsewhere from where it ought to have been, so that, buried beneath mountains as it were, or enclosed within a massive shell, its movements were not as it was, on the surface. Well, said Chichikov, though not without a certain tremor of diffidence as to the possible response. You are after dead souls, were Zabakovich's perfectly simple words. He spoke without the least surprise in his tone, and much as though the conversation had been turning on grain, yes, replied Chichikov, and then, as before, softened down the expression dead souls. They are to be found, said Zabakovich. Why should they not be? Then, of course, you will be glad to get rid of any that you may have chance to have. Yes, I shall have no objection to selling them. At this point, the speaker raised his head a little, for it ought to be struck him that surely the would-be buyer must have some advantage in you. The devil thought Chichikov to himself. Here is he selling the goods before I have even had time to utter a word. And what about the price? He added aloud. Of course, the articles are not of a kind very easy to appraise. I should be sorry to ask too much, said Zabakovich. How would a hundred rubles per head suit you? What, a hundred rubles per head? Chichikov stared open mouth at his host, doubting whether he had heard a right, or whether his host's slow moving tongue might not have inadvertently substituted one word for another. Yes. Is that too much for you? said Zabakovich. Then he added, What is your own price? My own price? I think that we cannot properly have understood one another. That you must have forgotten of what the goods consist. With my hand on my heart do I submit that eight griffney per soul would be a handsome, a very handsome offer. What, eight griffney? In my opinion a higher offer would be impossible. But I am not a seller of boots. No. Yet you, for your part, will agree that these souls are not life human beings. I suppose you hope to find fools ready to sell you souls on the census list for a couple of grotes a piece. Pardon me, but why do you use the term on the census list? The souls themselves have long since passed away and have left behind them only their names. Not to trouble you with any further discussion of the subject, I can offer you a ruble and a half per head, but no more. You should be ashamed even to mention such a sum. Since you deal in articles of this kind, quote me a genuine price. I cannot, Michael Semenovic, believe me, I cannot what a man cannot do that he cannot do. The speaker ended by advancing another half ruble per head. But why hang back with your money? Said Savakavic, of a truth I am not asking much of you. Any other rascal than myself would have cheated you by selling you old rubbish instead of good genuine souls, whereas I should be ready to give you of my best. Even were you buying only nut kernels. For instance, look at Wheelwright Michieff. Never was there such a one to build spring carts and his handiwork was not like your Moscow handiwork good only for an hour. No, he did it all himself even down to the varnishing. Chichikov opened his mouth to remark that nevertheless the said Michieff had long since departed this world but Savakavic's eloquence had got too thoroughly into its stride to admit of any interruption and looked to at Probka Steppen, the carpenter his toast went on. I will wager my head that nowhere else would you find such a workman what a strong fellow he was. He had served in the guards and the Lord only knows what they had given for him seeing that he was over three arshins in height. Again Chichikov tried to remark that Probka was dead but Savakavic's tongue was born on the torrent of its own verbiage and the only thing to be done was to listen. And Milushkin the bricklayer. He could build a stove in any house you liked and Maxine Telyapnikov the bootmaker anything that he drove his all into became a pair of boots and boots for which you would be thankful. Although he was a bit foul of the mouth and Aramey Solakaplechyn too he was the best of the lot and used to work at his trade in Moscow where he paid a tax of 500 rubles. Well there's an assortment of serfs for you a very different assortment from what Plushkin would sell you. But permit me at length putting Chichikov astounded at this flood of eloquence to which there appeared to be no end. Permit me I say to inquire why you enumerate the talents of the deceased seeing that they are all of them dead and that therefore there can be no sense in doing so. A dead body is only good to proper fence with says the proverb. Of course they are dead replied Sobacowicz but rather as though the idea had only just occurred to him. Of course they are dead replied Sobacowicz but rather as though the idea had only just occurred to him and was giving him food for thought. But tell me now what is the use of listing them are still alive they are flies not human beings. Well said Chichikov they exist though only an idea but no not only an idea I tell you that nowhere else would you find such a fellow for working heavy tools as was Michieff he had the strength of a horse in his shoulders and with the words Sobacowicz turned as though for corroboration was a way to begration as is frequently done by one of the parties in a dispute when he purports to appeal to an extraneous individual who is not only unknown to him but wholly unconnected with the subject in hand with the result that the individual is left in doubt whether to make a reply or whether to take himself elsewhere Nevertheless I cannot give you more than said said Chichikov Well as I don't want you to swear that I have asked too much of you and won't meet you halfway suppose for friendship's sake that you pay me 75 rubles in a syniac Good heavens thought Chichikov to himself does the man take me for a fool then he added aloud the situation seems to me a strange one for it is as though we were performing a stage comedy no other explanation would meet the case yet you appear to be a man of sense and possessed of some education the matter is a very simple one the question is what is a dead soul worth and is it of any use to anyone it is of use to you or you would not be buying such articles Chichikov bit his lip and stood at a loss for a retort he tried to saying something about family and domestic circumstances but Sabakovic cut him short with I don't want to know your private affairs for I never poke my nose into such things you need the souls and I am ready to sell them should you not buy them I think you will repent it two rubles is my price repeated Chichikov come come as you have named that sum I can understand you are not liking to go back upon it but quote me a bona fide figure the devil fly away with him mus Chichikov however I will add another half ruble and he did so indeed said Sabakovic well my last word upon it 50 rubles in a syniats that will mean a sheer loss to me for nowhere else in the world could you buy better souls than mine the old skinflint mutted Chichikov then he added aloud with irritation in his tone see here this is a serious matter anyone but you would be thankful to get rid of the souls only a fool would stick to them continue to pay the tax yes but remember and I say it wholly in a friendly way that transactions of this kind are not generally allowed and that anyone would say that a man who engages in them must have some rather doubtful advantage in view have it your own way said Chichikov with assumed indifference as a matter of fact I am not purchasing for profit as you suppose but to humour a certain whim of mine two and a half rubles is the most that I can offer bless your heart retorted the host at least give me 30 rubles in a syniats and take the lot no for I see that you are unwilling to sell I must say good day to you hold on hold on let's claim Sabakovic his guest's hand and at the same moment treading heavily upon his toes so heavily indeed that Chichikov gasped and danced with the pain I beg your pardon said Sabakovic hastily evidently I have hurt you pray sit down again no retorted Chichikov I am merely wasting my time and must be off oh sit down just for a moment I have something more agreeable to say and drawing closer to his guest Sabakovic whispered in his ear as though communicated to him a secret how about 25 rubles no no no exclaimed Chichikov I won't give you even a quarter of that I won't advance another co-peck for a while Sabakovic remain silent and Chichikov I won't give you even a quarter of that I won't advance another co-peck for a while Sabakovic remain silent and Chichikov did the same this lasted for a couple of minutes and meanwhile the aquiline knows ba ba ba ba ba for a while Sabakovic remain silent and Chichikov did the same this lasted for a couple of minutes and meanwhile the aquiline knows what is your outside price at length said Sabakovic two and a half rubles then you seem to rate a human soul at about the same value as a boiled turnip at least give me three rubles no I cannot pardon me but you are an impossible to man to deal with however even though it will mean a dead lost to me and you have not shown a very nice spirit about it I cannot well refuse to please a friend I suppose a purchased deed had better be made out in order to have everything in order of course then for that purpose let us repair to the town the affair ended in there deciding to do this on the morrow and to arrange for the signing of a deed of purchase next Chichikov requested a list of the peasants to which Sabakovic readily agreed indeed he went to his writing desk then and there and started to indict a list which gave not only the peasants names but also their late qualifications meanwhile Chichikov having nothing else to do stood looking at the spacious form of his host and as he gazed at his back as broad as that of a cart horse and at the legs as massive as the iron standards which adawn a street he could not help inwardly ejaculating truly God has endowed you with much though not adjusted with nicety at least you are strongly built I wonder whether you were born a bear or whether you have come to it through your rustic life with its tilling of crops and its trading with peasants yet no I believe that even if you had received a fashionable education and had mixed with society and had lived in Saint Petersburg you would still have been just the coulac footnote village of actor or usurer end of footnote that you are the only difference is that circumstances as they stand permitted your polishing off of a stuffed shoulder of mutton at a meal whereas in Saint Petersburg you would have been unable to do so also a circumstances stand you have under you a number of peasants whom you treat well for the reason that they are your property whereas otherwise you would have had under you Chinavix footnote subordinate government officials end of footnote whom you would have bullied because they were not your property also you would have robbed the treasury since a coulac always remains a money grubber the list is ready said Sobekowicz turning round indeed then please let me look at it Chichikov ran his eye over the document and could not but marvel at its neatness and accuracy not only were there set forth in it the trade, the age and the pedigree of every surf but on the margin of the sheet were jotted remarks concerning each surf's conduct and sobriety truly it was a pleasure to look at it and do you mind handing me the earnest money said Sobekowicz yes I do I need that be done you can receive the money in a lump sum as soon as we visit the town but it is always the custom you know asserted Sobekowicz then I cannot follow it for I have no money with me however here are 10 roubles 10 roubles indeed you might as well hand me 50 while you were about it once more Chichikov started to deny that he had any money upon him but Sobekowicz insisted so strongly that this was not so that at length the guest pulled out another 15 roubles and added them to the 10 already produced kindly give me a receipt for the money he added a receipt why should I give you a receipt because it is better to do so in order to guard against mistakes very well but first hand me over the money the money I have it here do you write out the receipt and then the money shall be yours pardon me but how am I to write out the receipt before I have seen the cash Chichikov placed the notes in Sobekowicz's hand whereupon the host moved nearer to the table and added to the list of serfs that he had received for the peasants therewith sold the sum of 25 roubles as earnest money this done he counted the notes once more this is a very old note holding one up to the light also it is a trifle torn however in a friendly transaction one must not be too particular what a culac thought Chichikov to himself and what a brute beast then you do not want any women's souls Querid Sobekowicz I thank you, no I could let you have some cheap say as between friends at a ruble ahead no, I should have no use for them then that being so there is no more to be said there is no accounting for tastes one man loves the priest and another the priest's wife says the proverb Chichikov roast to take his leave once more I would request of you he said that the bargain be left as it is of course, of course what is done between friends holds good because of their mutual friendship goodbye and thank you for your visit in advance I would beg that whenever you should have an hour or two to spare you will come and lunch with us again perhaps we might be able to do one another further service not if I know it reflected Chichikov as he mounted his bridge car not I seeing that I have had two and a half rubles per soul squeezed out of me by a brute of a culac altogether he felt dissatisfied with Sabakovic's behaviour in spite of the man being a friend of the governor and the chief of police he had acted like an outsider in taking money for what was worthless rubbish as the bridge car left the courtyard Chichikov glanced back and saw Sabakovic still standing on the veranda apparently for the purpose of watching to see which way the guests carriage would turn the old villain to be still standing there mother Chichikov through his teeth after which he ordered Telfan to proceed so that the vehicle's progress should be invisible from the mansion the truth being that he had a mind next to visit Plushkin who surfs to quote Sabakovic had a habit of dying like flies but not to let his late host learn of his intention accordingly on reaching the further end of the village he hailed the first peasant whom he saw a man who was in the act of hoisting a ponderous beam onto his shoulder before setting off with it and like to his hut hi! shouted Chichikov how can I reach landowner Plushkin's place without first going past the mansion here the peasants seen non-plust by the question don't you know queer Chichikov no Baron replied the peasants what? you don't know skinflint Plushkin who feats his people so badly of course I do exclaimed the fellow and added there to an uncomplimentary expression of a species not ordinarily employed in polite society we may guess that it was a pretty apt expression since long after the man had become lost to view Chichikov was still laughing in his bridge cut and indeed the language of the Russian populace is always forcible in its phraseology end of part one chapter five dot org dead souls by Nikolae Wysilywicz Gogol translated by DJ Hoggart part one chapter six read by Gergana Mitego Chichikov's amusement that the peasants outburst prevented him from noticing that he had reached the center of a large and populous village but presently a violent jolt aroused him to the fact that he was driving over wooden pavements of a kind compared with which the cobblestones of the town had been as nothing Dwi'r lleif yn y hayd, mae'r bwysig yn ddysgu a bwysig, ac yn ymgwrdd yllygoedd ar y ddweud yn yr oed oherwydd o'r bwysig ar y ddechrau, o'r brws ar y llwyddy o'r cyfryd o'r bwysig ar y cyfrwyr o'r rhan o'r iawn. Bydd yw'n ddal chi'n gweld o ddechrau o'r bufyniau'r gwylltio. Oedd o'r cyfrwys yma, mae'r cyfrwys ar y ddweud o'r holl, oedd yn ddweud o'r yn y llwyr i'r llwyr i'n dweud a hwnnw yn ei dweud yn y ddechrau'r gyda'r frwng yma. Mae'r ddweud beth sy'n mynd eu bod y cifftodd yn ymgrifes yma wedi'i ddweud y cifftodd yn ystod yn ychydig o'r gweithio'r peidio ar y rhan a'r hyfforddiol, sy'n byw'r rhan yn yr un o ffordd yma, mae rhan o'n pertych yn ei ddifrwng o'r ffordd yn ychydig yn ychydig, when all the time there was the tavern and the high road and other places to resort to. Suddenly a woman appeared from an out building, apparently the housekeeper of the mansion, but so roughly and dirtyly dressed as almost to seem indistinguishable from a man. Tudigof inquired for the master of the place. He's not at home. She replied almost before her interlocutor had time to finish. Then she added, what do you want with him? I have some business to do. Said Tudigof. Then pray walk into the house, the woman advised. Then she turned upon him a bag that was smeared with flour and had a long slit in the lower portion of its covering. Entering a large dark hole, which reeked like a thumb, he passed into an equally dark parlor that was slided only by such rays as contrived to filter through a track under the door. When Tudigof opened the door in question, the spectacle of the untidiness within struck him almost with amazement. It would seem that the floor was never washed and that the room was used as a receptacle for every conceivable kind of furniture. On a table stood a ragged chair with beside it a clock minus a pendulum and covered all over with cobwebs. Against the wall lent a cupboard full of old silver, glassware and china. On a writing table inlaid with mother of pearl, which in places had broken away and left behind it a number of yellow grooves stuffed with putty, leia pile of finely written manuscript, an overturned marble press turning green, an ancient book in a leather cover with red edges, a lemon dried and shrunk onto the dimensions of a hazelnut, the broken arm of a chair, a tumbler containing the dregs of some liquid and three flies, the hole covered over with a sheet of note paper, a pile of rags, two eking ink and crusted pens and a yellow toothpick with which the master of the house had picked his teeth, apparently, at least before the coming of the French to Moscow. As for the walls, they were hung with a medley of pictures. Among the latter was a long engraving of a battle scene wherein soldiers in three cornered hats were brandishing huge drums and slender lances. It lacked a glass and was set in a frame ornamented with bronze fretwork and bronze corner rings. Besiwn idd hung a huge grimly oil painting, representative of some flowers and fruit, half a watermelon, a boar's head and a pendant form of a dead wild duck. Attached to the ceiling there was a chandelier in a holland covering, the covering so dusty as closely to resemble a huge cocoon and closing a caterpillar. Lastly in one corner of the room lay a pile of articles which had evidently been unjudged unworthy of a place on the table. Yet what the pile consisted of, it would have been difficult to say, seeing that the dust on the same was so thick that any hand which touched it would have at once resembled a glove. Prominently protruding from the pile was the shaft of a wooden spade and the antiquated sole of a shoe. Never would one have supposed that the living creature had tenanted the room, were it not that the presence of such a creature was betrayed by the spectacle of an old nightcap resting on the table. Whilst Tytigof was gazing at this extraordinary mess, a side door opened and there entered the housekeeper who had met him near the outbuildings. But now Tytigof perceived this person to be a man rather than a woman, since a female housekeeper would have had no beard to shave, whereas the chin of the newcomer, with the lower portion of its cheeks, strongly resembled the curry comb which is used for grooming horses. Tytigof assumed the questioning air and waited to hear what the housekeeper might have to say. The housekeeper did the same. At length, surprised at the misunderstanding, Tytigof decided to ask the first question. Is the master at home? he inquired. Yes, replied the person addressed. Then where is he? continued Tytigof. Are you blind my good sir? retorted the other. I am the master. In voluntarily our heroes stared and stared. During his travels it had befallen him to meet various types of men. Some of them it may be types which you and I have never encountered, but even to Tytigof this particular species was new. In the old man's face there was nothing very special. It was much like the wise face of many other daughters, save that the chin was so greatly projected that whenever he spoke he was forced to wipe it with a handkerchief to avoid dribbling. And that his small eyes were not yet grown dull, but twinkled under their overhanging brows like the eyes of mice when with attentive ears and sensitive whiskers they sniffed the air and pierred forth from their holes to see whether a cat or a boy may not be in the vicinity. No, the most noticeable feature about the man was his clothes. In no way could it have been guessed of what his coat was made. For both its sleeves and its skirts were so ragged and filthy as to defy description. While instead of two posterior fails there dangled four of those appendages with projecting from them a torn newspaper. Also around his neck there was wrapped something which might have been a stocking, a garter or a stomacher, but was certainly not a tie. In short, had to take off chance to encounter him at a church door he would have bestowed upon him a copper or two for to do our hero justice he had a sympathetic heart and never refrained from presenting a beggar with ha alms. But in the present case there was sanding before him not a mendicant, but a landowner, and a landowner possessed of fully a thousand serfs, the superior of all his neighbors in wealth of flour and grain and the owner of storehouses and so forth that were crammed with homespun cloth and linen, tanned and undressed sheepskins, dried fish and every conceivable species of produce. Nevertheless such a phenomenon is rare in Russia where the tendency is rather to prodigality than to parsimony. For several minutes Plushkin stood mute while Chichikov remained so dazed with the appearance of the coast and everything else in the room that he too could not begin a conversation but stood wondering how best to find words in which to explain the object of his visit. For a while he thought of expressing himself to the effect that having heard so much of his host's benevolence and other rare qualities of spirit he had considered his duty to comment a tribute of respect but presently even he came to the conclusion that this would be over during the thing and after another glance round the room decided that the phrase benevolence and other rare qualities of spirit might to the advantage give place to economy and genius for method. Accordingly the speech mentally composed he said aloud that having heard of Plushkin's talents for thrifty and systematic management he had considered himself bound to make the acquaintance of his host and to present him with his personal compliments. I need to hardly say that Chichikov could easily have alleged a better reason had any better one happened at the moment to have come to his head. With toothless gums Plushkin murmured something in reply but nothing is known as to its precise terms beyond that it included a statement that the devil was at liberty to fly away with Chichikov sentiments. However the laws of Russian hospitality do not permit even of a miser infringing their rules wherefore Plushkin added to the foregoing a more civil invitation to be seated. It is long since I last received the visitor he went on. Also I feel bound to say that I can see little good in their coming. Once introduced the abominable custom of folk paying calls and forward they will ensue such a ruin to the management of estates that landowners will be forced to feed their horses on hay. Not for a long long time have I eaten a meal away from home although my own kitchen is a poor one and has its chimney in such a state that were to become overheated it would instantly catch fire. What a brute! thought Chichikov. I am lucky to have got through so much pastry and stuffed shoulder of mutton at Sabakiewicz's. Also went on Plushkin. I am ashamed to say that hardly a wisp of fodder does the place contain. But how can I get fodder? My lands are small and the peasantry lazy fellows hate work and think of nothing but the tavern. In the end therefore I shall be forced to go and spend my old age in roaming about the world. But I have been told that you possessed over a thousand serfs said Chichikov. Who told you that? No matter who it was you would have been justified in giving him the lie. He must have been a jester who wanted to make a fool of you. A thousand souls indeed. Well I just reckon the taxes on them and see what there would be left. For those three years that a cursed fever has been killing off my serfs wholesale. Wholesale you say? I got Chichikov greatly interested. Yes wholesale replied the old man. Then might I ask you the exact number? Fully 80. Surely not. But it is so. Then might I ask whether it is from the date of the last census revision that you are reckoning these souls? Yes damn it. And since that date I have been bled for taxes upon 120 souls in all. Indeed upon 120 souls in all. And Chichikov's surprise and elation were such that they said he remained sitting open-mouthed. Yes good sir replied Plushkin. I am too old to tell you lies for I have passed my 17th year. Somehow he seemed to have taken offence at Chichikov's almost joyous exclamation. Wherefore the guest hastened to heave a profound sigh and to observe that he sympathized to the fool with his host's misfortunes. But sympathy does not put anything into one's pocket retorted Plushkin. For instance I have a kinsman who is constantly plaguing me. He is a captain in the army, Dameham. And all day he does nothing but call me dear uncle and kiss my hand and express sympathy until I am forced to stop my ears. You see he has squandered all his money upon his brother officers as well as made the fool of himself with an actress. So now he spends his time in telling me that he has a sympathetic heart. Chichikov hastened to explain that his sympathy had nothing in common with the captains since he dealt not in empty words alone, but in actual deeds in proof of which he was ready then and there for the purpose of cutting the matter short and of dispensing with circumlocution to transfer to himself the obligation of paying the taxes due upon such serves as Plushkin had said in the unfortunate matter just described departed this world. The proposer seemed to astonish Plushkin for his sad staring open-eyed. At length he inquired, My dear sir, have you seen military service? No, replied the other wearily, but I have been a member of the civil service. Oh, of the civil service? And Plushkin said moving his lips as though he were chewing something. But what of your proposal he added presently? Are you prepared to lose by it? Yes, certainly. If thereby I can please you. My dear sir, my good benefactor, in his delight Plushkin lost sight of the fact that his nose was caked with snuff of the consistency of thick coffee and that his coat had parted in front and was disclosing some very unseemly underclothing. What comfort you have brought to an old man? Yes, as God is my witness. For the moment he could say no more, yet barely a minute had elapsed before this instantaneously aroused emotion had as instantaneously disappeared from his wooden features. Once more they assumed the cure-worn expression and he even wiped his face with his handkerchief, then rolled it into a ball and rubbed it to and fro against his upper lip. If it will not annoy you again to state the proposal, he went on, what you undertake to do is to pay the annual tax upon these souls and to remit the money either to me or to the treasury. Yes, that is how it shall be done. We will draw up a deed of purchase as though the souls were still alive and you had sold them to myself. Quite so a deed of purchase echoed plushkin once more relapsing into tawd and the chewing motion of the lips. But a deed of such a kind will entail certain expenses and lawyers are so devoid of conscience. In fact, so extortionate is there ever is that they will charge one half a ruble and then a sack of flour and then a whole wagon load of meal. I wonder that no one has yet called attention to the system. Upon that Chechikov intimated that out of respect for his host he himself would bear the cost of the transfer of souls. This led plushkin to conclude that his guest must be the kind of unconscionable fool who, while pretending to have been a member of the civil service, has in reality served in the army and run after actresses, wherefor the old man no longer disguised his delight but called down blessings alike upon Chechikov's head and upon those of his children. He had never even inquired whether Chechikov possessed a family. Next he shuffled to the window and tapping one of its pains shouted the name of Prashka. Immediately someone ran quickly into the hall and after much stamping of feet burst into the room. This was Prashka, a 13-year-old youngster who was shot with boots of such dimensions as almost to engulf his legs as he walked. The reason why he had entered the shroud was that plushkin only kept one pair of boots for the whole of his domestic staff. This universal pair was stationed in the hall of the mansion so that any servant who was summoned to the house might don the set boots after waiting barefooted through the mud of the courtyard and entered the parlor dry shroud subsequently leaving the boots where he had found them and departing in his former barefooted condition. Indeed had anyone on a slushy winter's morning glanced from a window into the set courtyard he would have seen plushkin servitors performing salatory feats worthy of the most vigorous of stage dancers. Look at that boy's face said plushkin Tututikov as he pointed to Prashka. It is stupid enough yet lay another anything aside and in the tries he would have stolen it. Well my lad, what do you want? He posed a moment or two but Prashka made no reply. Come, come! went the old man, set out the Samovar and then give Mavera the key to the storeroom. Here it is and tell her to get out some loaf of sugar for tea. Here. Wait another moment fool, is the devil in your legs that you itch so to be off? Listen to what more I have to tell you. Tell Mavera that the sugar on the outside of the loaf has gone bad so that she must scrape it off with a knife and not throw away the scrapings but give them to the poultry. Also see that you yourself don't go into the storeroom or I will give you a birching that you won't care for. Your appetite is good enough already but the better one won't hurt you. Don't even try to go into the storeroom for I shall be watching you from this window. You see the old man added to Tututikov, one can never trust these fellows. Presently when Proshka and the Boots had departed he fell to gazing at his guest with an equally distrustful air since certain features in Tututikov's benevolence now struck him as a little open to question and he had begun to think to himself. After all the devil only knows who he is, whether a braggard like most of these pentriffs or a fellow who is lying merely in order to get some tea out of me. Finally his circumspection combined with a desire to test his guest led him to remark that it might be well to complete the transaction immediately since he had not over much confidence in humanity seeing that a man might be alive today and dead tomorrow. To this Tututikov assented readily enough merely adding that he should like first of all to be furnished with a list of the dead souls. This reassured Plushkin as to his guest's intention of doing business so he got out his keys, approached the cupboard and having pulled back the door, rummaged among the cups and glasses with which it was filled. At length he said, I cannot find it now but I used to possess a splendid bottle of liquor. Probably the servants have drank it all for their such thieves. Oh no, perhaps this is it? Looking up Tututikov saw that Plushkin had extracted a decanter coated with dust. My late wife made the stuff, went on the old man, but that rascal of a housekeeper went and threw away a lot of it and never even replaced the stopper. Consecwetly bugs and other nasty creatures got into the decanter, but I cleaned it out and not begged to offer you a glassful. The idea of a drink from such a receptacle was too much for Tututikov so he excused himself on the ground that he had just had luncheon. You have just had luncheon? He reacquired Plushkin. Now that shows how invariably one can tell a man of good society wheresoever one may be. A man of that kind never eats anything, he always says that he has had enough. Very different that from the ways of a rogue whom one can never satisfy however much one may give him. For instance, that captain of mine is constantly begging me to let him have a meal, though he is about as much my nephew as I am his grandfather. As it happens there is never a bite of anything in the house so he has to go away empty. But about the list of those good for nothing souls, I happen to possess such a list since I have drawn one up in the readiness for the next revision. With that Plushkin donned his spectacles and once more started to rummage in the cupboard and to smother his guest with dust as he untied successive packages of papers so much so that his victim burst out sneezing. Finally he extracted a much scribbled document in which the names of the deceased peasants lay as close packed as a cloud of midgets. For there was a hundred and twenty of them in all, Tychikov grinned with joy at the sight of the multitude. Stuffing the list into his pocket he remarked that to complete the transaction it would be necessary to return to the town. To the town, repeated Plushkin, but why? Moreover, how could I leave the house? Seeing that every one of my servants is either a thief or a rogue, day by day they pilfer things until soon I shall have not a single coat to hang on my back. The new possess acquaintances in the town? Acquaintances? No, every acquaintance whom I have ever possessed has either left me or is dead. But stop a moment, I do know the president of the council. Even in my old age he has once or twice come to visit me for he and I used to be school fellows and to go climbing walls together. Yes, he might you know. Shall I write him a letter? By all means. Yes, he might know well, for we were friends together at school. Over Plushkin's wooden features there had gleamed a ray of warmth, a ray which expressed if not feeling at all events feelings pale reflection. Just such a phenomenon may be witnessed when for a brief moment a drowning man makes a last reappearance on the surface of a river, and there rises from the crowd lining the banks of a cry of hope that even yet the exhausted hands may clutch the rope which has been thrown him. May clutch it before the surface of the unstable element shall have resumed forever its calm dread-facuity. But the hope is short-lived and the hands disappear. Even so did Plushkin's face after its momentary manifestation of feeling become meaner and more insensible than ever. There used to be a sheet of clean writing paper lying on the table he went on, but where it is now I cannot think. That comes of my servants being such rascals. With that he fell into looking also under the table as well as to hurrying about with cries of, Mavra! Mavra! At length the call was answered by a woman with a plate full of the sugar of which mention has been made, whereupon there ensued the following conversation. What have you done with my piece of writing paper, you pilferer? I swear that I have seen no paper except the bit with which you covered the glass. Your very face tells me that you have made off with it. Why should I make off with it? It would be of no use to me for I can neither read nor write. You lie! You have taken it away for the sexton to scribble upon. Well, if the sexton wanted a paper he could get some for himself, neither here nor I have set eyes upon your piece. Ah, wait a bit for the judgment day. You will be roasted by devils on iron spits. Just see if you are not. But why should I be roasted when I have never even touched the paper? You might accuse me of any other fault than theft. Nay, the devil shall roast you, sure enough, they will say to you. Bad woman, we are doing this because you robbed your master. And then stroke up the fire, still hotter. Nevertheless, I shall continue to say you're roasting me for nothing for I have stole nothing at all. Why there it is, lying on the table. You have been accusing me for no reason whatever. And sure enough the sheet of paper was lying before Plushkin's very eyes. For a moment or two he chewed silently. Then he went on. Well, and what are you making such a noise about? If one says a single word to you, you answer back with ten. Go and fetch me a candle to seal a letter with. And mind you, bring a tallow candle, for it will not cost so much as the other sort. And bring me a match, too. Mavr departed, and Plushkin seating himself and taking up a pen, said turning the sheet of paper over and over, as though in doubt whether to tear from it yet another morsel. At length he came to the conclusion that it was impossible to do so, and therefore dipping the pen into the mixture of moldy fluid and dead flies which the ink bottle contained, started to indict the letter in characters as bold as the notes of music's core. While momentarily checking the speed of his hand, less it should meander too much over the paper, and crawling from line to line, as though he regretted that there was so little vacant space left on the sheet. And you happen to know anyone to whom a few runaway serfs would be of use? He asked as subsequently he folded the letter. What? You have some runaways as well? Exclaimed Chichikov again greatly interested. Certainly I have. My son-in-law has laid the necessary information against them, but says that their tracks have grown cold. However, he's only a military man. That is to say good at clicking a pair of spurs, but of no use for laying a plea before a court. And how many runaways have you? About seventy. Surely not. Alas, yes. Never does a year pass without a certain number of them making off. Yet so gluttonous and idle are my serfs that they are simply bursting with food, whereas I scarcely get enough to eat. I will take any price for them that you may care to offer. Tell your friends about it and should they find even a score of runaways, I will repay them handsomely, seeing that a living serf on the census list is at present worth 500 rubles. Perhaps so, but I'm not going to let anyone but myself have a finger in this thought Chichikov to himself, after which he explained to Plushkin that a friend of the kind mentioned would be impossible to discover since the legal expenses of the enterprise would lead to the said friend having to cut the very tail from his coat before he could get clear of the lawyers. Nevertheless, added Chichikov, seeing that you are so hard pressed for money and that I'm so interested in the matter, I feel moved to advance you well, to advance you such a trifle as would scarcely be worth mentioning. But how much is it? asked Plushkin eagerly and with his hands trembling like quicksilver. Twenty-five coppics per soul. What? In ready money? Yes, in money down. Nevertheless, consider my poverty, dear friend, and make it forty coppics per soul. Verable, sir, would that I could pay you not merely forty coppics, but five hundred rubles, I should be only too delighted if that were possible, since I perceived that you, an aged and a respected gentleman, are suffering for your own goodness of heart. By God, that is true, that is true! Plushkin hung his head and wagged it feebly from side to side. Yes, all that I have done, I have done purely out of kindness. See how instantaneously I have divined your nature? By now it will have become clear to you why it is impossible for me to pay you five hundred rubles per runaway soul. By now, you will have gathered that the fact that I'm not sufficiently rich. Nevertheless, I'm ready to add another five coppics, and so to make it that each runaway surf shall cost me in all thirty coppics. As you please, dear sir, yet stretch another point and throw in another two coppics. Pardon me, but I cannot. How many runaway surfs did you say that you possess? Seventy? No, seventy-eight. Seventy-eight souls, a thirty coppics, each will amount to only for a moment that our hero had, since he was strong in his arithmetic. Will amount to twenty-four rubles, ninety-six coppics. Nevertheless, Chechikov would appear to have aired, since most people would make the sum amount to twenty-three rubles, forty coppics. If so, Chechikov cheated himself with one ruble, fifty-six coppics. With that, he requested Plushkin to make out the receipt and then handed him the money. Plushkin took it in both hands, borrowed to a bureau with as much caution as though he were carrying a liquid which might at any moment splash him in the face, and arrived at the bureau and glancing around once more, carefully packed the cash in one of his money bags, where, doubtless, it was destined to lie buried until the intense joy of his daughters and his son-in-law, and perhaps of the captain who claimed kinship to him, he should himself receive burial at the hands of the father's carp and polycarp, the two priests attached to this village. Lastly, the money concealed, Plushkin resealed himself in the armchair and seemed at a loss for further material for conversation. Are you thinking of starting? At length he inquired on seeing Chechikov making a trifling movement, though the movement was only to extract from his pocket a handkerchief. Nevertheless the question reminded Chechikov that there was no further excuse for lingering. Yes, I must be going. He said as he took his hat. Then what about the tea? Thank you, I will have some on my next visit. What? Even though I have just ordered the Samovar to be got ready? Well, well, I myself do not greatly care for tea, for I think in an expensive beverage. Moreover, the press of sugar has risen terribly. Proshka! he then shouted. The Samovar will not be needed. Return the sugar to Mavra and tell her to put it back again. But no, bring the sugar here and I will put it back. Goodbye, dear sir, finally he added to Chechikov. May the Lord bless you. Hand that letter to the president of the council and let him read it. Yes, he is an old friend of mine. We knew one another as school fellows. With that this strange phenomenon, this withered old man, escorted his guest to the gates of the courtyard and after the guest had departed ordered the gates to be closed, made the round of the outbuildings for the purpose of ascertaining whether the numerous watchmen were at their posts. Went into the kitchen where under the pretence of seeing whether his servants were being properly fed, he made a light meal of cabbage soup and growl. Rated the servants soundly for their tiffishness and general bad behaviour and then returned to his room. Meditating in solitude he felt to thinking how best he could contrive to recompense his guest for the latter's measureless benevolence. I will present him, he thought to himself, with a watch. A silver article, not one of those cheap metal affairs, and though it has suffered some damage, he can easily get that put right. A young man always needs to give a watch to his betrothed. Now he added after further thought, I will leave him the watch in my will as a keepsake. Meanwhile our hero was bowling along in high spirit. Such an unexpected acquisition both of dead souls and of runaway serfs had come as a windfall. Before reaching Plushkin's village, he had had a presentiment that he would do successful business there, but not business of such preeminent profitableness as had actually resulted. As he proceeded he whistled, hummed with a hand placed temperat wise to his mouth and ended by bursting into a burst of melody so striking that cellophane after listening for a while noted his head and exclaimed, My word, but the master can't sing. By the time they reached the town darkness had fallen and changed the character of the scene, the bridge co-bounded over the cobblestones and that length turned into the whole street's courtyard where the travelers were met by Betrushka. With one hand holding back the tails of his coat which he never liked to see fly apart, the violet assisted his master to a light. The waiter ran out with a candle in hand and napkin on shoulder. Wether or not Betrushka was glad to see the bear in return, it is impossible to say. But at all events he exchanged a wink with cellophane and his ordinary morose exterior seemed momentarily too brightened. Then you have been travelling far, sir? said the waiter as he led the way upstairs. Yes, said Chichikov. What has happened here in the meanwhile? Nothing, sir, replied the waiter, bowing, except that last night they arrived the military lieutenant. He has got room number 16. A lieutenant? Yes, he came from Ryazan, driving three grey horses. On entering his room Chichikov clapped his hand to his nose and asked his violet why he had never had the windows open. But I did have them opened, replied Betrushka. Nevertheless this was a lie as Chichikov well knew though he was too tired to contest the point. After ordering and consuming a light supper of sucking pig he undressed, plugged beneath the bedclothes and sank into the profound slumber which comes only to such fortunate folk as are troubled neither by mosquitoes nor fleas nor excessive activity of brain. End of part one chapter six. Dead souls part one chapter seven section one. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Dead souls by Nikolai Vazirievic Gogol translated by DJ Hogarth. Part one chapter seven section one read by Anna Simon. When Chichikov awoke he stretched himself and realized that he had slept well. For a moment or two he lay on his back and then suddenly clapped his hands at the recollection that he was now owner of nearly 400 souls. At once he lept out of bed without so much as glancing at his face in the mirror though as a rule he had much solicitude for his features and especially for his chin of which he would make the most when in company with friends and more particularly should anyone happen to enter while he was engaged in the process of shaving. Look how round my chin is was his usual formula. On the present occasion however he looked neither at chin nor at any other feature but at once done this flower embroidered slippers of Morocco leather the kind of slippers in which thanks to the Russian love for a dressing gown's existence the town of Dorzhok does such a huge trade and clad only an Amigo shirt so far forgot his elderliness and dignity as to cut a couple of capers after the fashion of a Scottish Highlander a lighting neatly each time on the flat of his heels and when he had done that did he proceed to business. Planting himself before his dispatch box he rubbed his hands with the satisfaction worthy of an incorruptible rural magistrate when adjourning for luncheon after which he extracted from the receptacle a bundle of papers these he had decided not to deposit with a loyther for the reason that he would hasten matters as well as save expense by himself framing and fair copying the necessary deeds of indenture hence since he was thoroughly acquainted with the necessary terminology he proceeded to inscribe in large characters the date and then in smaller ones his name and rank by two o'clock the whole was finished and as he looked at the sheets of names representing bygone peasants who had plowed, worked at handicrafts, cheated their masters fetched, carried and got drunk though some of them may have behaved well on behalf of him a strange unaccountable sensation to his eye each list of names seemed to possess a character of its own and even individual peasants therein seemed to have taken on certain qualities peculiar to themselves for instance to the majority of Madame Carpocas serves there were appended nicknames and other additions Plushkin's list was distinguished by conciseness of exposition which had led to certain of the items being represented by Christian name, patronymic and a couple of dots and Sobakovic's list was remarkable for its amplitude and circumstantiality in that not a single peasant had such of his peculiar characteristics omitted as that the deceased had been excellent at joinery or sober and ready to pay attention to his work also in Sobakovic's list there was recorded who had been the father and the mother of each of the deceased and how those parents had behaved themselves only against the name of a certain Theodotov was there inscribed father unknown mother of the maid servant Capitolina morals and honesty good these details communicated to the document a certain air of freshness they seemed to connote that the peasants in question had lived but yesterday as Chechikov scanned the list he felt softened in spirit and said with his eye my friends, what a concourse of you is here how did you all pass your lives, my brethren and how did you all come to depart hence as he spoke his eyes halted at one name in particular that of the same Peter Savilev Neuvage Corito who'd once been the property of the widow Corbacica once more he could not help exclaiming what a series of titles they occupy a whole line Peter Savilev, I wonder whether you were an artisan or a plain mwgic also I wonder how you came to meet your end whether in a tavern or whether through going to sleep in the middle of the road and being run over by a train of wagons again I see the name Propcastipan, carpenter, very sober that must be the hero of whom the guards would have been so glad to get hold how well I can imagine him tramping the country with an axe in his belt and his boots on his shoulder and living on a few groats worth of bread and dried fish per day and taking home a couple of half-ruble pieces in his purse and sewing the notes into his breeches or stuffing them into his boots in what manner came you by your end, Propcastipan did you for good wages mount a scaffold around the creepula of the village church and climbing dense to the cross above miss your footing on a beam and fall headlong the good uncle Mikhai, the good uncle who scratching the back of his neck and muttering, ah vanya, for once you've been too clever straightway lashed himself to a rope and took your place Maxim Teliatnikov, shoemaker a shoemaker indeed as drunk as a shoemaker says the proverb hi know what you were like my friend if you wish I'll tell you your whole history you're apprentice to a German who fed you and your fellows at a common table thrashed you without strap kept you indoors whenever you made a mistake and spoke of you in uncomplementary terms to his wife and friends at length when your apprenticeship was over you said to yourself I'm going to set up on my own account and not just to scrape together a cup of here and a cup of there as the Germans do but to grow rich quick hence you took a shop at a high rent bespoke a few orders and set to work to buy up some rotten leather out of which you could make on each pair of boots a double profit bet those boots split within a fortnight and brought down upon your head dire showers of maledictions with the result that gradually your shop grew empty of customers and you fell to roaming the streets and exclaiming the world is a very poor place indeed a Russian cannot make a living for German competition well well Elizabeth Warby but that is a woman's name how come she to be on the list that Vinan Sabagavitch must have sneaked her in without my knowing it Grigory Goeigeine Doeidesch he went on what sort of man were you I wonder were you a carrier who having set up a team of three horses and a tilt wagon left your home your native hovel forever and departed to cart merchandise to market was it on the highway that you surrendered your soul to God or did your friends first marry you to some fat red-faced soldier's daughter after which your harness and team of rough but sturdy horses caught a highwayman's fancy and you, lying on your pallet, thought things over until, willy nily, you felt that you must get up and make for the tavern thereafter blundering into an ice-hole ah, our peasant of Russia never do you welcome death when it comes and you, my friends, continued Chichikov turning to the sheet whereon were inscribed the names of Pushkin's absconded Serves although you are still alive what is the good of you? you're practically dead whether I wonder if your future defeat carried you did you fare heartily at Pushkin's or was it that your natural inclinations led you to prefer roaming the wilds and plundering travellers are you, by this time, in goal or have you taken service with other masters for the tillage of their lands Hermae Cariacin, Nikita Volokita and Anton Volokita, son of the Forgoing to judge from your surnames you would seem to have been born catabouts Footnote the names Cariacin and Volokita might perhaps be translated as Galant and Lofa and Footnote Popov, household Serve probably you were an educated man good Popov and go in for polite thieving as extinguished from the more vulgar cutthroat sword in my mind's eye I seem to see a captain of rural police challenging you for being without a passport whereupon you stake your all upon a single throw to whom do you belong? asked the captain probably adding to his question a forcible expletive to such and such a landowner stoutly you reply and what are you doing here? continues the captain I've just received permission to go and earn my opera to give you an explanation then where's your passport? a mission in Piminoffs Footnote, tradesman or citizen and Footnote Piminoffs? then are you Piminoff himself? yes I'm Piminoff himself he has given you his passport? no he's not giving me his passport come come shouts the captain with another forcible expletive you're lying no I'm not is your dog to reply it is only that last night I could not return him his passport because I came home late so I handed it to Antip Pogroff the bell ringer for him to take care of bell ringer indeed then he gave you a passport no I didn't receive a passport from him either what? and here the captain shouts another expletive how dare you keep on lying where is your own passport? I had one all right you reply cunningly you dropped it somewhere on the road as I came along and what about that soldier's coat? asked the captain with an impolite addition when did you get it? and what about the priest's cash box and copper money? about them I know nothing you reply doggedly never at any time have I committed a theft then how is it that the coat was found at your place? I don't know probably someone else put it there you rascal you rascal shouts the captain taking his head and closing in upon you put the leg irons upon him and off with him to prison with pleasure you reply as taking a snuff box from your pocket you offer a pinch to each of the two gendarmes who are manacling you while also inquiring how long they've been discharged from the army and in what wars they may have served and in prison you remain until your case comes on when the justice orders you to be removed from Tsofcoczaeca to such and such another prison and a second justice orders you to be transferred thence to Vizygonsk or somewhere else and you go flitting from goal to goal and saying each time as you eye your new habitation the last place was a good deal cleaner than this one is and one could play babki there and stretch one's legs and see a little society footnote babki is the game of knuckle bones and footnote abakum tyroff Chichikov went on after a pause what of you brother where and in what capacity are you disporting yourself have you gone to the vulgar country and become bitten with a life of freedom and joined the fisherman of the river here breaking off Chichikov relapsed into silent meditation of what was he thinking as he said there was he thinking of the fortunes of abakum tyroff or was he meditating as meditates every Russian when his thoughts once turned to the joys of an emancipated existence ah well he sighed looking at his watch it has now gone 12 o'clock why have I so forgotten myself there's still much to be done yet I go shutting myself up and letting my thoughts wander what a fool I am so saying he exchanged his Scottish costume of a shirt and nothing else for attire of a more European nature after which he pulled tight the waist cut over his ample stomach sprinkled himself with odocoloni stucked his papers under his arm took his fur cap and set out for the municipal offices for the purpose of completing the transfer of souls the fact that he hurried along was not due to a fear of being late seeing that the present local council was an intimate acquaintance of his as well as a functionary who could shorten or prolong an interview at will even as Homer's Zeus was able to shorten or to prolong a night or a day whenever it became necessary to put an end to the fighting of his favourite heroes or to enable them to join battle but rather to a feeling that he would like to have the affair concluded as quickly as possible seeing that throughout it had been an anxious and difficult business also he could not get rid of the idea that his souls were unsubstantial things and that therefore under the circumstances his shoulders had better be relieved of their load with the least possible delay pulling on his cinnamon coloured barrel lined overcoat as he went he had just stepped thoughtfully into the street when he collided with a gentleman dressed in a similar coat and an ear-lipped fur cap upon that the gentleman uttered an exclamation behold it was Manelof at once the friends became folded in a strenuous embrace and remained so locked for fully five minutes indeed the kisses exchanged were so vigorous that both suffered from toothache for the greater portion of the day also Manelof's delight was such that only his nose and lips remained visible the eyes completely disappeared afterwards he spent about a quarter of an hour in holding Chichikov's hand and chafing it vigorously lastly he in the most pleasant and exquisite terms possible intimated to his friend that he had just been on his way to embrace Paola Vanavic and upon this followed a compliment of the kind which would more fittingly have been addressed was being asked to a quarter partner the favour of a dance Chichikov had opened his mouth to reply though even he felt at a loss how to acknowledge what had just been said when Manelof cut him short by producing from under his coat a roll of paper tied with red ribbon what have you there? asked Chichikov the list of my souls and as Chichikov unrolled the document and ran his eye over it he could not but marvel at the elegant neatness with which it had been inscribed it is a beautiful piece of writing he said in fact there will be no need to make a copy of it also it has a border around its edge who worked at exquisite border do not ask me said Manelof did you do it? no, my wife dear, dear Chichikov cried to think that I should have put her to so much trouble nothing could be too much trouble where Pavel Ivanovic is concerned Chichikov bowed his acknowledgments next on learning that he was on his way to the municipal offices for the purpose of completing the transfer Manelof expressed his readiness to accompany him wherefore the pair linked arm in arm and proceeded together whenever they encountered a slight rise in the ground even the smallest unevenness or difference of level Manelof supported Chichikov with such energy as almost to lift him off his feet while accompanying the service with a smiling implication that not if he could help it should Pavel Ivanovic slip or fall nevertheless this conduct appeared to embarrass Chichikov either because he could not find any fitting words of gratitude or because he considered the proceeding tiresome and it was with a sense of relief that he debouched upon the square where the municipal offices a large three-storied building of a chalky whiteness symbolised the purity of the souls engaged within was situated no other building in the square could fire with them in size seeing that the remaining artifices consisted only of a sentry box a shelter for two or three capmen and a long hoarding a letter adorned with the usual bills posters and scrolls in chalk and charcoal at intervals from the windows of the second and third stories of the municipal offices the incorruptible heads of certain of the attendant priests of Themis would appear quickly forth and as quickly disappear again probably for the reason that a superior official had just entered the room meanwhile the two friends ascended the staircase nay almost flew up it since longing to get rid of Manilov's ever supporting arm Chichikov hastened his steps and Manilov kept darting forward to anticipate any possible failure on the part of his companion's legs consequently the pair were breathless when they reached the first corridor in passing it may be remarked that neither corridors nor rooms evinced any of that cleanliness and purity which marked the exterior of the building for such attributes were not troubled about within and anything that was dirty remained so and done no meretricious purely external disguise it was as though Themis received her visitors in negligee and a dressing gown the author would also give a description of the various offices through which our hero passed were it not that he, the author stands in awe of such legal haunts end of part 1, chapter 7, section 1