 Next day, with Platon and Konstantin, Chichikov set forth to interview Kloboev, who is a member The owner, whose estate, Konstantin, had consented to help Chichikov to purchase with a non-interest bearing and confident at loan of ten thousand rubles. Naturally, our hero was in the highest of spirits. For the first fifteen verses are so, the road led through forest land and tillage belonging to Platon and his brother-in-law. But directly the limit of these domains was reached, forest land began to be replaced with swamp and tillage with waste. Also, the village in Kloboev's estate had about it a deserted air, and as for the proprietor himself, he was discovered in a state of drowsy dishevelment, having not long left his bed. A man of about forty, he had his cravat crooked, his frock-coat adorned with a large stain, and one of his boots worn through. Nevertheless, he seemed delighted to see his visitors. What, he exclaimed, Konstantin Tedorovich and Platon Mikaevich, really I must rub my eyes, never again in this world did I look to see coolers arriving. As a rule, folk avoid me like the devil, for they cannot disabuse their minds of the idea that I am going to ask them for a loan. Yes, it's my own fault, I know, but what would you? To the end we'll swine, cheat, swine. Pre-excused my costume, you'll observe that my boots are in holes. But how can I afford to get them mended? Never mind, said Konstantin, we've come on business only. May I present to you a possible purchaser of your estate in the person of Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov? I am indeed glad to meet you, was cloborous response. Pray shake hands with me, Pavel Ivanovich. Chichikov offered one hand, but not both. I can show your property worth of your attention, and on the master of the estate. May I ask if you've yet dined? Yes, we have, put in Konstantin, desires of escaping as soon as possible. To save you further trouble, let us go and view the estate at once. Very well, replied clubworth. Pray come and inspect my irregularities and futilities. You've done well to dine beforehand, for not so much as a foul is left in the place, so dire are the extremities to which you see me reduced. Even deeply he took Platon by the arm. It was clear that he did not look for any sympathy from Konstantin, and walked ahead, while Konstantin and Chichikov followed. Things are going hard with me, Platon Mikhailovich, continued clubworth. How hard you cannot imagine! No money have I, no food, no boots! Where I, still young and a bachelor, it would have come easy to me to live on bread and cheese. But when a man is growing old, and has got a wife and five children, such trials press heavily upon him, and, in spite of himself, his spirits sink. But, should you succeed in selling the estate, that would help to put you right, would it not? said Platon. How could it do so? replied clubworth, with a despairing gesture. What I might get for the property would have to go towards discharging my debts, and I should find myself left with less than a thousand rubles besides. Then what do you intend to do? God knows. But is there nothing to which you could set your hand, in order to clear yourself of your difficulties? How could there be? Well, you might accept a government post. Become a provincial secretary, you mean. How could I obtain such a post? They would not offer me one of the meanest possible kind, even supposing that they did. How could I live on a salary of five hundred rubles? I who have a wife and five children. Then try and obtain a bailiff's post. Who wouldn't trust their property to a man who has squandered his own estate? Nevertheless, when death and destitution threaten, a man must either do something or starve. Shall I ask my brother to use his influence to procure you a post? No, no, Platon Mikailich. sighed clubworth, gripping the other's hand. I am no longer serviceable. I am grown old before my time, and find that liver and rheumatism are paying me for the sins of my youth. Why should the government be put to a loss on my account? Not to speak of the fact that for every salaried post there are countless numbers of applicants. God forbid that, in order to provide me with a livelihood, further burdens should be imposed upon an impoverished public. Such are the results of improvident management, thought Platon to himself. The disease is even worse than my slothfulness. Meanwhile Kosanzoglo, walking by Chichikov's side, was almost taking leave of his senses. Look at it! he cried with a wave of his hand. See to what wretchedness the peasant has become reduced. Should cattle disease come, clubworth will have nothing to fall back upon, but will be forced to sell his all to leave the peasant without a horse, and therefore without the means to labour, even though the loss of a single day's work may take years of labour to rectify. Meanwhile, it is plain that the local peasant has become a mere disillute lazy drunkard. Give him music enough to live upon for twelve months without working, and you will corrupt him for ever. So inured to rags and vagrancy will he grow. And what is the good of that piece of pasture there, of that piece on the further side of those huts? It is a mere fluttered tract, where at mine I shall put it under flex and clear five thousand rubles, or else sewed with turnips and clear perhaps four thousand, and see how the rye is drooping and nearly laid. As for wheat, I am pretty sure that he has not sown any. Look to those ravines, where they mine they would be standing under timber which even a rook could not top. To think of wasting such quantities of land, where land wouldn't bear corn, I should dig it up and plant it with vegetables. What ought to be done is that clubworth ought to take a spade into his own hands, and to set his wife and children and servants who do the same, and even if they died of the exertion they would at least die doing their duty, and not through guzzling at the dinner-table. This said, Costanzoglo sped, and his brow flushed with grim indignation. Presently they reached an elevation, once a distant flushing of a river, with its flood-waters and subsidiary streams caught the eye, while further off a portion of General Patricius Homestead could be discerned among the trees, and over it a blue, densely wooded hill where Genchetnikov's mansion was situated. This is where I should plant timber, said Chichikov, and, regarded as a site for a manor-house, the situation could scarcely be beaten for beauty of you. You seemed to set great store upon views and beauty, remarked Costanzoglo with a reproof in his tone. Should you pay too much attention to those things, you might find yourself without crops or view. Utility should be placed first, not beauty. Beauty will come of itself. Take, for example, towns. The fairest and most beautiful towns are those which have built themselves, those in which each man has built to suit his own exclusive circumstances and needs, whereas towns which man have constructed on regular, string-tod lines are no better than collections of barracks. Put beauty aside and look only to what is necessary. Yes, but to me it would always be irksome to have to wait. All the time that I was doing so I should be hungering to see in front of me the sort of prospect which I prefer. Come, come, are you a man of twenty-five? You, who have served as a Genufnik in St. Petersburg? Have patience, have patience, for six years work and work hard. Plant, sew, and dig the earth without taking a moment's rest. It will be difficult, I know. Yes, difficult indeed, but at the end of that time, if you have thoroughly stirred the soil, the land will begin to help you as nothing else can do. That is to say, over and above your seventy or so pairs of hands, there will begin to assist in the work seven hundred pairs of hands which you cannot see. Thus everything will be multiplied tenfold. I myself have seized even to have to lift a finger for what so ever needs to be done gets done of itself. Nature loves patience, always remember that. It is a law given her of God himself who has blessed all those who are strong to endure. To hear your words is to be both encouraged and strengthened, said Chechikov. To this Kostan Zogolo made no reply, but presently went on. And see how that piece of land has been ploughed. To stay here longer is more than I can do. For me, to have to look upon such want of orderliness and foresight is death. Finish your business with Klobuev without me, and whatsoever you do, get this treasure out of that fool's hands as quickly as possible, for he is dishonoring God's gifts. And Kostan Zogolo is faced dark with a rage that was seething in his excitable soul, left Chechikov, and caught up the owner of the establishment. What! Konstantin Todorovich! cried Klobuev in astonishment. Just arrived? You're going already? Yes, I cannot help it. Virgin business requires me at home. And entering his gig, Kostan Zogolo drove rapidly away. Somehow Klobuev seemed to divine the cause of his sudden departure. It was too much for him, he remarked. An agriculturist of that kind does not like to have to look upon the results of such factless management as mine. Would you believe it, Pavel Ivanovich? But this year I have been unable to sow any wheat. Am I not a fine husband, man? There was no seed for the purpose, nor yet anything with which to prepare the ground. No, I'm not like Konstantin Todorovich, who, I hear, is a perfect Napoleon in his particular line. Again and again the thought occurs to me. Why has so much intellect been put into that head, and only a drop or two into my own dill plate? Take care of that puddle, gentlemen. I've told my peasants to lay down planks for the spring, but they have not done so. Nevertheless, my heart aches for the poor fellows, for they need a good example. What sort of an example am I? How am I to give them orders? Pray take them under your charge, Pavel Ivanovich, for I cannot teach them orderliness and method when I myself lack both. As a major effect I should have given them their freedom long ago, had there been any use in my doing so. For even I can see that peasants must first be afforded the means of earning a livelihood before they can live. What they need is a stern yet just master who shall live with them day in, day out, and set them an example of tireless energy. The present-day Russian, I know of it myself, is helpless without a driver. Without one he falls asleep, and the mould grows over him. Yet I cannot understand why he should fall asleep and grow moldy in that fashion, said Platon. Why should he need continual surveillance to keep him from degenerating into a drunkard and a good for nothing? The course is lack of enlightenment, said Chichikov. Possibly, only God knows. Yet enlightenment has reached us right enough. Do we not intend university lectures and everything else that is befitting? Take my own education. I learned not only the usual things, but also the art of spending money upon the latest refinement, the latest amenity, the art of familiarizing oneself with whatsoever money can buy. How, then, can it be said that I was educated foolishly, and my comrades' education was the same? A few of them succeeded in annexing the cream of things for the reason that they had the wit to do so, and the rest spent their time in doing their best to ruin their health and squander their money. Often I think there is no hope for the present-day Russian. While desiring to do everything he accomplishes nothing. One day he will scheme to begin a new mode of existence, a new dietary. Yet before evening he'll have so overeaten himself as to be unable to speak or do odd but sit staring like an owl. The same with everyone. Quite so, agreed Chichikov with a smile. It is everywhere the same story. To tell the truth we're not born to common sense. I doubt whether Russia has ever produced a really sensible man. For my own part, if I see my neighbour living a regular life and making money and saving it, I begin to distrust him, and to feel certain that in all age, if not before, he too will be led astray by the devil. Let us stray in a moment. Yes, whether or not we be educated there is something we lack, but what that something is passes my understanding. On the return journey the prospect was the same as before. Everywhere the same slovenliness, the same disorder, was displaying itself unadorned. The only difference being that a fresh puddle had formed in the middle of the village street. This want and neglect was noticeable in the peasants' quarters, equally with the quarters of the barren. In the village a furious woman in greasy sackcloth was beating a poor young wench within an ace of her life, and at the same time devoting some third person to the care of all the devils in hell. Further away a couple of peasants were stoically contemplating the varago, one scratching his rump as he did so and the other yawning. The same yon was discernible in the buildings, for not a roof was there, but had a gaping hole in it. As he gazed at the scene the platon himself yawned. Patch was superimposed upon Patch, and in place of a roof one hut had a piece of wooden fencing, while its crumbling window frames were staid with sticks proloined from the barren's barn. Evidently the system of upkeep in vogue was the system employed in the case of Drishkin's coat, the system of cutting up the cuffs and the collar into mendings for the elbows. No, I do not admire your way of doing things, was Chichikov's unspoken comment when the inspection had been concluded and the party had re-entered the house. Everywhere in the latter the visitors were struck with the way in which poverty went with glittering fashionable profusion. On a writing-table lay a volume of Shakespeare, and on an occasional table a carved ivory back-scratcher. The hostess, too, was elegantly and fashionably attired, and devoted her whole conversation to the town and the local theatre. Lastly the children, bright, merry little things, were well dressed both as regards boys and girls. Yet far better would it have been for them if they had been clad in plain-striped smocks and running about the courtyard like peasant children. Presently a visitor arrived in the shape of a chattering, gossiping woman, whereupon the hostess carried her off to her own portion of the house, and, the children following them, the man found themselves alone. How much do you want for the property? asked Chichikov of Kloboeuf. I am afraid I must request you to name the lowest possible sum, since I find the estate in a far worse condition than I had expected to do. Yes, it is in a terrible state, a great Kloboeuf. Nor is that the whole of the story. That is to say, I will not conceal from you the fact that out of a hundred souls registered at the last revision only fifty survive. So terrible have been the ravages of cholera, and of these again some have absconded, wherefore they too must be reckoned as dead, seeing that, were one to enter process against them, the costs would end in the property having to pass unblocked to the legal authorities. For these reasons I am asking only thirty-five thousand rubles for the estate. Chichikov it need hardly be said, started to haggle. Thirty-five thousand, he cried, come, come, surely you will accept twenty-five thousand. This was too much for Platon's conscience. Now, now, Paul Ivanovich, he exclaimed, take the property at the price named and have done with it. The estate is worth at least that amount. So much so that, should you not be willing to give it, my brother-in-law and I will club together to effect the purchase. That being so, said Chichikov, taken it back, I beg to agree to the price in question. At the same time I must ask you to allow me to defer payment of one half of the purchase money until a year from now. No, no, Paul Ivanovich, under no circumstances could I do that. Pay me half now and the rest in. You see I need the money for the redemption of the mortgage. That places me in a difficulty, remarked Chichikov. Ten thousand rubles is all there at the moment I have available. As a matter of fact this was not true, seeing that, counting also the money which he had borrowed of Kostan Zoglo, he had at his disposal twenty thousand. His real reason for hesitating was that he disliked the idea of making so large a payment in a lump sum. I must repeat my request, Paul Ivanovich, said Kloboeuf, namely that you pay me at least fifteen thousand immediately. The odd five thousand I will lend you, put in Platon to Chichikov. Indeed exclaimed Chichikov as he reflected, so he also lends money. In the end, Chichikov's dispatch box was brought from the Kolyoska, and Kloboeuf received tens thousand rubles, together with a promise that the remaining five thousand should be forthcoming on the morrow, though the promise was given only after Chichikov had first proposed that three thousand should be brought on the day named, and the rest be left over for two or three days longer, if not first till more protected period. The truth was that Paul Ivanovich hated parting with money. No matter how urgent the situation might have been, he would still have preferred to pay some tomorrow rather than today. In other words, he acted as we all do, for we all like keeping a petitioner waiting. Let him wrap his back in the hole for a while, we say. Surely he can buy this time a little. Yet of the fact that every hour may be precious to the poor wretch, and that his business may suffer from the delay, we take no account. Good sir, we say, pray come again tomorrow. Today I have no time to spare you. Where do you intend henceforth to live, inquired Platon? Have you any other property to which you can retire? No, replied Clubworth. I shall remove to the town where I possess a small villa. That would have been necessary, in any case, for the children's sake. You see, they must have instruction in God's word, and also lessons in music and dancing, and not for love or money can these things be procured in the country. Nothing to eat, yet dancing lessons for his children, reflected Chichikov. An extraordinary man was Platon's unspoken comment. However, we must contrive to wet our bargains somehow, continued Clubworth. Here, Kavushka, bring that bottle of champagne. Nothing to eat, yet champagne to drink, reflected Chichikov. As for Platon, he did not know what to think. In Clubworth's eyes it was de rigueur that he should provide a guest with champagne. But, though he had sent to the town for some, he had been met with a blank refusal to forward even a bottle of Quass on credit. Only the discovery of a French dealer who had recently transferred his business from St. Petersburg, and opened a connection on a system of general credit, saved the situation by placing Clubworth under the obligation of patronising him. The company drank three glassfuls of and so grew more cheerful. In particular, did Clubworth expand, and wax full of civility and friendliness, and scatter witticisms and anecdotes to right and left. What knowledge of man in the world did his utterances display? How well and accurately could he divine things? With what appositeness did he sketch the neighbouring land-owners? How clearly he exposed their faults and failings? How thoroughly he knew the story of certain ruined gentry? The story of how, why, and through what cause they had fallen upon evil days? With what comic originality could he describe their little habits and customs? In short, his guests found themselves charmed with his discourse, and felt inclined to vote him a man of first-rate intellect. What most surprises me, Sir Chichikov, is how, in view of your ability, you come to be so destitute of means or resources. But I've plenty of both, said Clubworth, and with that went on to deliver himself of a perfect avalanche of projects. Yet those projects proved to be so uncouth, so clumsy, so little the outcome of a knowledge of man and things, that his hearers could only shrug their shoulders and mentally exclaim, could, Lord, what a difference between worldly wisdom and the capacity to use it. In every case, the projects in question were based upon the imperative necessity of at once procuring from somewhere two hundred, or at least one hundred thousand rubles. That done, so Clubworth averred, everything would fall into its proper place, the holes in his pockets would become stopped, his income would be quadrupled, and he would find himself in a position to liquidate his debts in full. Nevertheless, he ended by saying, What would you advise me to do? I fear that the philanthropist who would lend me two hundred thousand rubles, or even a hundred thousand, does not exist? It is not God's will that he should. Good gracious, inwardly ejaculated Chichikov, to suppose that God would send such a full two hundred thousand rubles. However, went on Clubworth. Our possessor aunt were three millions, a pious old woman who gives freely to churches and monasteries, but finds her difficulty in helping her neighbour. At the same time, she is a lady of the old school, and worth having a peep at. Her cannery is alone, number four hundred, and, in addition, there is an army of pug dogs, hangers on, and servants. Even the youngest of the servants is sixty, but she calls them all young fellows, and if a guest happens to offend her during dinner, she orders them to leave him out when handing out the dishes. There's a woman for you. Platon loved. And what may her family name be? asked Chichikov. And where does she live? She lives in the county town, and her name is Alexandra Ivanovna Kanasarov. Then why do you not apply to her? asked Platon earnestly. It seems to me that, once she realized the position of your family, she could not possibly refuse you. Alas! nothing is to be looked for from that quarter, replied Kloboev. My aunt is of a very stubborn disposition, a perfect stone of a woman. Moreover, she has around her a sufficient band of favourites already. In particular, is there a fellow who is aiming for a governorship, and to that end has managed to insinuate himself into the circle of her kinsfolk. By the way, the speaker added, turned to Platon. Would you do me a favour? Next week I am giving a dinner to the associated guilds of the town. Platon stared. He had been unaware that, both in our capitals and in our provincial towns, there exists a class of men whose lives are an enigma. Men who, though they will seem to have exhausted their substance, and to have become enmeshed in debt, will suddenly be reported as infants, and on the point of giving a dinner. And though, at this dinner, the guests will declare that the festival is bound to be their host's last fling, and that for a certainty he will be hailed to prison on the moral. Ten years or more will elapse, and the rascal will still be at liberty, even though, in the meanwhile, his debts will have increased. In the same way did the conduct of Klobber's Menage afford a curious phenomenon, for one day the house would be the seam of a solemn taedaeum performed by a priest's investments, and the next of a stage play performed by a troupe of French actors in theatrical costume. Again, one day, wouldn't see not a morsel of bread in the house, and the next day a banquet and generous largesse given to a party of artists and sculptors. During these seasons of scarcity, sufficiently severe they have let anyone but Klobber have to seek suicide by hanging or shooting, the master of the house would be preserved from rash action by his strongly religious disposition, which, contriving in some curious way to conform with his irregular mode of life, enabled him to fall back upon reading the lives of saints, ascetics, and others of the type which has risen superior to its misfortunes. And at such times his spirits would become softened, his thoughts full of gentleness, and his eyes wet with tears. He would fall to saying his prayers, and invariably some strange coincidence would bring an answer there too, in the shape of an unexpected measure of assistance. That is to say, some former friend of his would remember him and send him a trifle in the way of money, or else some female visitor would be moved by his story to let her impulsive generous heart proffer him a handsome gift, or else a suit where of tidings had never even reached his ears would end by being decided in his favour. And when that happened he would reverently acknowledge the immensity of the mercy of providence, gratefully tender thanksgiving for the same, and but take himself again to his irregular mode of existence. Somehow I feel sorry for the man, said Platon, when he and Chichikov had taken leave of their host and left the house. Perhaps so, but he is a hopeless prodigal, replied the other. Personally I find it impossible to compassionate such fellows. And with that the pair ceased to devote another thought to Kloboev. In the case of Platon this was because he contemplated the fortunes of his fellows with a lethargic half-summon and eye which he turned upon all the rest of the world. Further with the sight of distress of others would cause his heart to contract and feel full of sympathy, the impression thus produced never sank into the death of his being. Accordingly, before many minutes were over he had ceased to bestow a single thought upon his late host. With Chichikov, however, things were different, whereas Platon had ceased to think of Kloboev no more than he had ceased to think of himself, Chichikov's mind had strayed elsewhere for the reason that had become taken up with grave meditation on the subject of the purchase just made. Suddenly finding himself no longer a fictitious proprietor but the owner of a real and actually existing estate, he became contemplative and his plans and ideas assumed such a serious vein as imparted to his features an unconsciously important heir. Patience and hard work, he mattered to himself. The thing will not be difficult, for with those two requisites I have been familiar from the days of my swaddling clothes. Yes, no novelty will they be to me. Yet, in middle age, shall I be able to compass the patience whereof I was capable in my youth. However, no matter how he regarded the future, and no matter from what point of view he considered his recent acquisition, he could see nothing but advantage likely to accrue from the bargain. For one thing, he might be able to proceed so that first the whole of the estate should be mortgaged, and then the better portions of land sold outright. Or he might so contrive matters as to manage the property for a while, and thus become a landowner like Costan Joglo, whose advice, as his neighbor and his benefactor, he intended always to follow, and then to dispose of the property by private treaty, provided he did not wish to continue his ownership, and still to retain in his hands the dead and abandoned souls. At another possible coup occurred to his mind. Let us to say, he might contrive to withdraw from the district without having repaid Costan Joglo at all. Truly a splendid idea. Yet it is only fair to say that the idea was not one of Chichiko's own conception. Rather, it had presented itself mocking, laughing, and winking, unbidden. Yet the impudent, the wanton thing. Who is the procreator of suddenly born ideas of the kind? The thought that he was now a real, an actual proprietor, instead of a fictitious. That he was now a proprietor of real land, real rights of timber and pasture, and real serves, who existed not only in imagination, but also in veritable actuality. Greatly elated our hero. So he took to dancing up and down in his seat, to rubbing his hands together, to winking at himself, to holding his fist trumpet-wise to his mouth, while making belief to execute a march, and even to uttering aloud such encouraging nicknames and phrases as bulldog and little fat capon. Then suddenly recollecting that he was not alone, he hastened to moderate his behaviour, and endeavoured to stifle the endless flow of his good spirits. With the result that when Platon, mistaking certain sounds for utterances addressed to himself, inquired what his companion had said, the latter retained the presence of mind to reply, nothing. Presently, as Chichikof gazed about him, he saw that for some time past the Koliashka had been skirting a beautiful wood, and that on either side the road was bordered with an edging of birch trees, the tenally green, recently opened leaves of which caused their tall slender trunks to show up with the whiteness of a snow-drift. Likewise, nightingales were warbling for the recesses of the foliage, and some wood-chillips were glowing yellow in the grass. Next, and almost before Chichikof had realised how he came to be in such a beautiful spot, when, but a moment before, there had been visible only open fields, there glimmered among the trees the stony whiteness of a church, with, on the further side of it, the intermittent foliage-buried line of a fence. While from the upper end of a village street, there was advancing to meet the vehicle, a gentleman with a cap on his head, a knolled kutchle in his hands, and a slender-limbed English dog by his side. This is my brother, said Platon. Stop, coachman! And he descended from the Koliashka, while Chichikof followed his example. Yarb and the strange dog saluted one another, and then the active, thin-legged, slender-tongued Azor relinquished his licking of Yarb's blunt jowl, licked Platon's hands instead, and, leaping upon Chichikof, slobbered right into his ear. The two brothers embraced. Really, Platon, said the gentleman, whose name was Fazili. What do you mean by treating me like this? How so? said Platon, indifferently. What? For three days past, I've seen and heard nothing of you. A groom from Piatuks brought your cop home, and told me you had departed on an expedition with some baron. At least you might have sent me word as to your destination, and the probable length of your absence. What made you act so? God knows what I've not been wondering. Does it matter? rejoined Platon. I forgot to send you word, and we've been no further than Constantine's, who, with our sister, sent you his greeting. By the way, may I introduce Paolo Ivanovich Chichikof? The pair shook hands with one another, then, doffing their caps, they embraced. What sort of man is this Chichikof, thought Fazili? As a rule my brother Platon is not overnight in his choice of acquaintances. And, eyeing our hero as narrowly as civility permitted, he saw that his appearance was that of a perfectly respectable individual. Chichikof returned Fazili's scrutiny with a similar observance of the dictates of civility, and perceived that he was shorter than Platon, that his hair was of a darker shade, and that his features, though less handsome, contained far more life, animation, and kindness than did his brothers. Clearly he indulged in less dreaming, though that was an aspect which Chichikof little regarded. I've made up my mind to go touring our holy Russia with Paolo Ivanovich, said Platon. Perhaps it will rid me of my melancholy. What has made you come to such a sudden decision? asked the perplexed Fazili, very nearly added, fancy going travelling with a man whose acquaintance you've just made, and who may turn out to be a rascal, or the devil knows what. But, in spite of his distrust, he contended himself with another covert scrutiny of Chichikof, and this time came to the conclusion that there was no fault to be found with his exterior. The party turned to the right, and entered the gates of an ancient courtyard attached to an old-fashioned house of a type no longer built, the type which has huge gables supporting a high-pitched roof. In the centre of the courtyard, two great lime trees covered half the surrounding space with shade while beneath them arranged a number of wooden benches, and the hull was encircled with a ring of blossoming lilacs and cherry trees which, like a beaded necklace, reinforced the wooden fence, and almost buried it beneath their clusters of leaves and flowers. The house, too, stood almost concealed by this greenery, except that the front door and the windows peered pleasantly through the foliage, and that here and there between the stems of the trees there could be caught glimpses of the kitchen regions, the storehouses, and the cellar. Lastly, around the hull stood a grove from the recesses of which came the echoing songs of nightingales. Involuntarily, the place communicated to the soul a sort of quiet, restful feeling. So eloquently did it speak of that carefree period when everyone lived on good terms with his neighbour, and all was simple and unsophisticated. Vagili invited Chichikov to see himself, and the party approached for that purpose the benches under the lime trees, after which a youth of about seventeen and clad in a red shirt brought decanthus containing various kinds of quass, some of them as thick as syrup, and others hissing like aerated lemonade. Deposited the same upon the table, and, taking up a spade which he'd left leaning against the tree, moved away towards the garden. The reason of this was that in the brother's household, as in that of Costangioglo, no servants were kept since the whole style for raiders gardeners, and performed their duty in rotation. Vagili, holding that domestic service, was not a specialised calling, but one to which any one might contribute a hand, and therefore one which did not require special menials to be kept for the purpose. Moreover, he held that the average Russian peasant remains active and willing, rather than lazy, only so long as he wears a shirt and a peasant's smock, but that as soon as ever he finds himself put into a German tailcoat he becomes awkward, sluggish, indolent, disinclined to change his vest or take a bath, fond of sleeping in his clothes, and certain to breed fleas and bugs under the German apparel, and it may be that Vagili was right. At all events the brother's peasantry were exceedingly well-clad, the women in particular, having their headdresses spangled with gold, and the sleeves of their blouses embroidered after the fashion of a Turkish shawl. You see here the species of quaz for which our house has long been famous, said Vagili to Chichikov. The latter put himself out a glass full from the first decanter which he lighted upon, and found the contents to be linden-honey of a kind never tasted by him, even in Poland, seeing that it had a sparkle like that of champagne, and also an effervescence, which sent a pleasant spray from the mouth into the noose. Nectar, he proclaimed. Then he took some from a second decanter. It proved to be even better than the first. A beverage of beverages, he exclaimed. Had he respected brother-in-laws, I tasted the finest syrup which has ever come my way, but here I have tasted the very finest quaz. Yet the recipe for the syrup also came from here, said Vagili, seeing that my sister took it with her. By the way, to what part of the country and to what places are you thinking of travelling? To tell the truth, replied Chichikov, rocking himself to and fro on the bench, and smoothing his knee with his hand, and gently inclining his head. I am travelling less on my own affairs than on the affairs of others. That is to say, General Petrischev, an intimate friend, and, I might add, a generous benefactor of mine, has charged me with commissions to some of his relatives. And, after less, the relatives are relatives. I may say that I am travelling on my own account as well, in that, in addition to possible benefit to my health, I desire to see the world and the whirligig of humanity, which constitute, so so speak, a living book, a second cause of education. Vagili took thought. The man speaks floridly, he reflected, yet his words contain a certain element of truth. After a moment's silence he erred to platon. I am beginning to think that the tour might help you to bestow yourself. At present you are in a condition of mental slumber. You have fallen asleep, not so much from weariness or satiety, as through a lack of vivid perceptions and impressions. For myself I am your complete antithesis. I should be only too glad if I could feel less acutely, if I could take things less too hard. Emotion has become a disease with you, said Platon. You seek your own troubles and make your own anxieties. How can you say that when ready-made anxieties greet one at every step, exclaimed Vagili? For example, have you heard of the trick which Leonidiusen has just played us, of his seizing the peace of vacant land with our presence resort for their sports? That peace I would not sell for all the money in the world. It has long been our presence playground, and all the traditions of our village are bound up with it. Moreover, for me, old custom is a sacred thing for which I would gladly sacrifice everything else. Leonidiusen cannot have known of this, or he would not have seized the land, said Platon. He is a newcomer, just arrived from St. Petersburg. A few words of explanation ought to meet the case. But he does know of what I have stated. He does know of it. Purposely I sent him word to that effect, yet he has returned me the root of the vances. Then go yourself and explain matters to him. No, I will not do that. He has tried to carry off things with too high a hand, but you can go if you like. I would certainly go, were it not that I scarcely like to interfere. Also, I am a man whom he could easily hoodwink and outwit. Would it help you if I were to go, put in Chichikov? Pray enlighten me as to the matter. Fajili glanced at the speaker and thought to himself, what a passion the man has for travelling. Yes, pray give me an idea of the kind of fellow, repeated Chichikov, and also outlined to me the affair. I should be ashamed to trouble you with such an unpleasant commission, replied Fajili. He is a man whom I take to be an utter rascal. Originally, a member of a family of plain dvaryan in this province, he entered the civil service in St. Petersburg, then married someone's natural daughter in that city, and has returned to laud it with a high hand. I cannot bear that Tony adopts. Our folk are by no means fools. They do not look upon the current fashion as at Tsar's Ukaas, any more than they look upon St. Petersburg as a church. Naturally, said Chichikov, but tell me more of the particulars of the quarrel. There are these. He needs additional land, and had he not acted as he has done, I would have given him some land elsewhere for nothing. But, as it is, the pestilent fellow has taken it into his head to— I think I'd better go and have a talk with him. That might settle the affair. Several times have people charted me with similar commissions, and never have I repented of it. General Petrishchev is an example. Nevertheless, I am ashamed that you should be put to the annoyance of having to converse with such a fellow. Note, at this point there occurs a long hiatus. And note. Part II. Chapter IV. Section II. Above all things, such a transaction would need to be carried through in secret, said Chichikov. True, the law does not forbid such things, but there is always the risk of a scandal. Quite so, quite so, said Lientsin, with head bent down. Then we agree, exclaimed Chichikov. How charming! As I say, my business is both legal and illegal. Though needing to effect a mortgage, I desire to put no one to the risk of having to pay the two rules on each living soul. Wherefore I have conceived the idea of relieving landowners of that distasteful obligation by acquiring dead and absconded souls who have failed to disappear from the revision list. This enables me at once to perform an act of Christian charity, and to remove from the shoulders of our more impoverished proprietors the burden of tax payment upon souls of the kind specified. Should you, yourself, care to do business with me, we will draw up a formal purchase agreement as though the souls in question were so alive. But it would be such a curious arrangement, muttered Lientsin, moving his chair and himself a little further away. It would be an arrangement which would involve you in no scandal, whatever, seeing that the affair would be carried there in secret. Moreover, between friends who are well disposed toward one another. Nevertheless, Chichikov adopted a firmer and more decided tone. I repeat that there would be no scandal, he said. The transaction would take place as between good friends and as between friends of mature age, and as between friends of good status, and as between friends who know how to keep their own counsel. And so, saying, he looked his interlocutor frankly and generously in the eyes. Nevertheless, Lientsin's resourcefulness and acumen in business matters failed to relieve his mind of a certain perplexity, and the less so since he had contrived to become caught in his own net. Yet, in general, he possessed neither a love for nor a talent for underhand dealings, and had not fate in circumstances favored Chichikov by causing Lientsin's wife to enter the room at that moment. Things might have turned out very differently from what they did. Madam was a pale, thin, insignificant-looking young lady, but nonetheless a lady who wore her clothes a la Saint Petersburg, and cultivated the society of persons who were unimpeachably commie le faux. Behind her, born in a nurse's arms, came the first fruits of the love of a husband and wife. Adopting his most telling method of approach, the method accompanied with a side-long inclination of the head and a sort of hop. Chichikov hastened to greet the lady from the metropolis, and then the baby. At first, the latter started to bellow disapproval. But the words, agoo, agoo, my pet, added to a little cracking of the fingers and a sight of a beautiful seal on a watch chain, enabled Chichikov to wheetle the infant into his arms, after which he fell to swinging it up and down until he contrived to raise a smile on its face, a circumstance which greatly delighted the parents, and finally inclined the father in his visitor's favor. Suddenly, however, whether from pleasure or from some other cause, the infant misbehaved itself. My God! cried Madam, he has gone and spoiled your frot coat. True enough, on glancing downwards, Chichikov saw that the sleeve of his brand new garment had indeed suffered a hurt. If I could catch you alone, you little devil you muttered to himself, I'd shoot you. Host, hostess, and nurse all ran for Odeclone, and from three sides set themselves to rub the spot affected. Never mind, never mind, it is nothing, said Chichikov, as he strove to communicate to his features as cheerful an expression as possible. What does it matter what a child may spoil during the golden age of its infancy? To himself, he remarked, the little brute, what it could be devoured by wolves. It is made only to go to shot, the cast young ragamuffin. How, after this, after the guest had shown such innocent affection for the little one, and magnanimously paid for his so-doing with a brand new suit, could the father remain obdurate? Nevertheless, to avoid setting a 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 favor? 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 that not so? Here the recurs a hiatus in the original. Everything in life fulfills 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 gypsy bands? To abstain when everyone else is indulging in these things, and fashion commands, is difficult indeed. Chichikov was foresetting 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 Devoryane 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 menorial produce, which had been brought up by wholesale dealers at Nizhny Novgorod, and then transferred hither. To the fair, of course, came those ravishers of the Russian purse, who, in the shape of Frenchmen with pomads and French women with hats, make away with money earned by blood and hard work, and like the locusts of Egypt, to use Kostan Holos 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 Chinovniks, whom the failure of the harvest did not touch, proceeded to let themselves go, as also, to their undoing, to 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 everyone 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 someday to resume their bribes taking from suitors. They also developed a tendency to compete in the matter of horses and liveryed flunkies, with the result that despite the damp and snowy weather exceedingly elegant turnouts took to parading backwards and forwards. Once these acupage had come, only God knows, but at least they would not have disgraced Saint 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 everyone 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-colored 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 of 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 toward 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-colored or a bottle-tinted spot in this 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 equality 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 were 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 customs department, and therefore wear none but cloth of the latest make. What I want is of a rudder 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 equality 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 gray, shot with flame color. 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 frock coat. 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, Pali Ivanovich, he exposterlated. 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 had 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 Atanazi Vasilievich, 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 I am 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, Atanazi Vasilievich, remarked the tradesman. Chichikov made no reply, save a gesture. Paul Ivanovich, I have been looking for you everywhere, Liansyn'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 you were a fair 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 rubles came to me from Madame Khana Sarova, 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, Samin Saminovich, 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 rubles, 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 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 with 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 Semenovich, no. That you would find the hardest task of all. For how can a man educate his children who is never 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 Semenovich. You had far better hand your children over to me, otherwise they will be ruined. Do not think that I am justing. 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. Atenasi Vasilievich, 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 an apartment which has an established case 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 aunt said to the dragonfly, namely, go away and return to your dancing. Yes, even in a monastery do folk toil and toil. They do not sit playing wist. Muratsov looked at Klobuev and added, Semen Semenovich, you are deceiving both yourself and me. Por Klobuev could not utter a word in reply, and Muratsov began to feel sorry for him. Listen, Semen Semenovich, you went on. I know that you say your prayers, and that you go to church, and that you observe both Mata and Vespers, and that, though averse to early rising, you leave your bed at four o'clock in the morning before the household fires have been lit. Ah, Atanasiy Vasilyevich said Klobuev, that is another matter altogether. That I do not for man's sake, but for the sake of him who has ordered all things here on earth. Yes, I believe that he at least can feel compassion for me, that he at least, though I be foul and lowly, will pardon me and receive me when all men have cast me out, and my best friend has betrayed me and boasted that he has done it for a good end. Klobuev's face was glowing with emotion, and from the older man's eyes also a tear had started. You will do well to harken unto him who is merciful, he said, but remember also that in the eyes of the all merciful, honest toil is of equal merit with a prayer. Therefore, take unto yourself whatsoever task you may, and do it as though you were doing it not unto man, but unto God. Even though to your lot there should fall but the cleaning of a floor, clean that floor as though it were being cleaned for him alone, and thence at least this good you will reap, that there will remain to you no time for what is evil, for card-playing, for feasting, for all the life of this gay world. Are you acquainted with Ivan Potopich? Yes, not only am I acquainted with him, but I also greatly respect him. Time was when Ivan Potopich was a merchant worth half a million rubles. In everything did he look but for gain, and his affairs prospered exceedingly, so much so that he was able to send his son to be educated in France and to marry his daughter to a general. And whether in his office or at the exchange, he would stop any friend whom he encountered, and carry him off to a tavern to drink, and spend whole days thus employed. But at last he became bankrupt, and God sent him other misfortunes also. His son. Ah, well, Ivan Potopich is now my steward, for he had to begin life over again. But once more his affairs are in order, and had it been his wish, he could have restarted in business with a capital of half a million rubles. But no, he said, a steward am I, and a steward will I remain to the end, for, from being full stomached and heavy with dropsy, I have become strong and well. Not a drop of liquor passes his lips, but only cabbage soup and gruel. And he prays, as none of the rest of us pray, and he helps the poor, as none of the rest of us help them. And to this he would add yet further charity if his means permitted him to do so. Poor Khlobuev remained silent as before. The elder man took his two hands in his. Samin Semenovich, he said, You cannot think how much I pity you, or how much I have had in you in my thoughts. Listen to me. In the monastery there is a recluse who never looks upon a human face. Of all men whom I know he has the broadest mind, and he breaks not his silence, saved to give advice. To him I went, and said that I had a friend, though I did not actually mention your name, who was in great trouble of soul. Suddenly the recluse interrupted me with the words, God's work first, and our own last. There is a need for a church to be built, but no money were with to build it. Money must be collected to that end. Then he shut to the wicket. I wondered to myself what this could mean, and concluded that the recluse had been unwilling to accord me his counsel. Next I repaired to the Archimandre, and it scarce reached his door when he inquired of me whether I could commend to him a man to be entrusted with the collection of alms for a church, a man who should belong to the Devorion, or to the more lettered merchants, but who would guard the trust as he would guard the salvation of his soul. On the instant thought I to myself, why should not the Holy Father appoint my friend, Simen Zamenovic? For the way of suffering would benefit him greatly, and as he passed with his ledger from landowner to peasant, and from peasant to townsman, he would learn where folk dwell, and who stands in need of ought, and thus would become better acquainted with the countryside than folk who dwell in cities. And thus become, he would find that his services were always in demand. Only of late did the Governor-General say to me, could he be but furnished with the name of a secretary who should know his work not only by the book, but by also by experience. He would give him a great sum, since nothing is to be learned by the former means, and through it much confusion arises. You confound me, you overwhelm me, said Kloguev, staring at his companion in open-eyed astonishment. I can scarcely believe that your words are true, seeing that for such a trust an active, indefatigable man would be necessary. Moreover, how could I leave my wife and children unprovided for? Have no fear, said Morozov. I myself will take them under my care, as well as procure for the children a tutor. Far better and nobler were it for you to be a traveling with a wallet and asking alms on behalf of God, than to be remaining here and asking alms for yourself alone. Likewise, I will furnish you with a tilt wagon, so that you may be saved some of the hardships of the journey. And thus be preserved in good health. Also, I will give you some money for the journey, in order that as you pass on your way, you may give to those who stand in greater need than their fellows. Thus, if, before giving, you assure yourself that the recipient of the alms is worthy of the same, you will do much good, and as you travel, you will become acquainted with all men and sundry, and they will treat you not as a chin of knick to be feared, but as one to whom, as a petitioner on behalf of the church, they may unloose their tongues without peril. I feel that the scheme is a splendid one, and would gladly bear my part in it, were it not likely to exceed my strength. What is there that does not exceed your strength, said Morozov? Nothing is wholly proportionate to it, everything surpasses it. Help from above is necessary, otherwise we are all powerless. Strength comes of prayer and of prayer alone. When a man crosses himself in cries, Lord have mercy upon me. He soon stems the current and wins to the shore. Nor need you take any prolonged thought concerning this manner. All that you need to, is to accept it as a commission sent of God. The tilt wagon can be prepared for you immediately, and then, as soon as you have been to the Archimandrate, for your book of accounts and his blessing, you will be free to start on your journey. I submit myself to you, and accept the commission as a divine trust. And even as Chlobov spoke, he felt renewed vigor and confidence arise in his soul. And his mind began to awake to a sense of hopefulness of eventually being able to put to flight his troubles. And even as it was, the world seemed to be growing dim to his eyes. Meanwhile, plea after plea had been presented to the legal authorities, and daily were relatives whom no one had before heard of, putting in an appearance. Yes, like vultures to a corpse, did these good folk come flocking to the immense property which Madame Kanasaurov had left behind her. Everywhere were heard rumours against Chichikov, rumours with regard to the validity of the second will, rumours with regard to will number one, and rumours of larceny and concealment of funds. Also, there came to hand information with regard to both Chichikov's purchase of dead souls, and to his conniving at contraband goods during his service in the customs department. In short, every possible item of evidence was exhumed, and the whole of his previous history investigated. How the authorities had come to suspect and to ascertain all this, God only knows. But the fact remains that there had fallen into the hands of those authorities information concerning matters of which Chichikov had believed only himself and the four walls to be aware. True, for a time, these matters remained within the cognizance of none but the functionaries' concern, and failed to reach Chichikov's ears. But at length, a letter from a confidential friend gave him reason to think that the fat was about to fall into the fire. Said the letter briefly. Dear sir, I beg to advise you that possibly legal trouble is pending, but that you have no cause for uneasiness, seeing that everything will be attended to by yours very truly. Yet, in spite of its tenor, the epistle reassured its recipient. What a genius the fellow is, thought Chichikov to himself. Next, to complete his satisfaction, his tailor arrived with his new suit, which he had ordered. Not without a certain sense of pride did our hero inspect the frock coat of smoked gray shot with flame color, and look at it from every point of view, and then try on the breeches. The latter fitting him like a picture, and quite concealing any deficiencies in the matter of his thighs and calves. Though, when buckled behind, they left his stomach projecting like a drum. True, the customer remarked that there appeared to be a slight tightness under the right armpit, but the smiling tailor only rejoined that that would cause the waist to fit all the better. Sir, he said triumphantly, you may rest assured that the work has been executed exactly as it ought to have been executed. No one, except in St. Petersburg, could have done it better. And as a matter of fact, the tailor himself hailed from St. Petersburg, but called himself on a signboard, foreign costumier from London and Paris. The truth being that by the use of a double-barreled flourish of cities superior to merely Karlsruhe and Copenhagen, he designed to acquire business and cut out his local rivals. Chichikov graciously settled the man's account, and as soon as he had gone, paraded at leisure and con amore, and after the manner of an artist of aesthetic taste before the mirror. Somehow, he seemed to look better than ever in the suit, for his cheeks had now taken on a still more interesting air, and his chin and added seductiveness, while his white collar lent tone to his neck, the blue satin tie heightened the effect of the collar, the fashionable dickey set off the tie, the rich satin waistcoat emphasized the dickey, and the smoked gray shot with flame color frockcoat shining like silk splendidly rounded off the hole. When he turned to the right, he looked well. When he turned to the left, he looked even better. In short, it was a costume worthy of a Lord Chamberlain or the species of dandy who shrinks from swearing in the Russian language, but amply relieves his feelings in the language of France. Next, inclining his head slightly to one side, our hero endeavored to pose as though he were addressing a middle-aged lady of exquisite refinement, and the result of his efforts was a picture which any artist might have yearned to portray. Next, his delight led him gracefully to execute a hop in ballet fashion, so that the wardrobe trembled and a bottle of eau de cologne came crashing to the floor. Yet even this contra-temps did not upset him. He merely called the offending bottle a fool, and then debated whom first he should visit in his attractive guise. Suddenly, there resounded through the hall a clatter of spurred heels, and then the voice of a gendarme saying, You were commended to present yourself before the Governor General. Turning round, Chichikov stared in horror at the spectacle presented, for in the doorway there was standing an apparition wearing a huge mustache, a helmet surmounted with a horse-hair plume, a pair of crossed shoulder-belts, and a gigantic sword. A whole army might have been combined into a single individual. And when Chichikov opened his mouth to speak, the apparition repeated, You were commended to present yourself before the Governor General. And at the same moment our hero caught sight both of a second apparition outside the door, and of a coach waiting beneath the window. What was to be done? Nothing whatever was possible. Just as he stood, in his smoked gray shot-with-flame color suit, he had then and there to enter the vehicle, and shaking in every limb, and with a gendarme seated by his side to start for the residence of the Governor General. And even in the hall of that establishment no time was given him to pull himself together, for at once an aid to camp said, Go inside immediately for the Prince is awaiting you. And as in a dream did our hero see a vestibule where couriers were being handed dispatches, and then a salon which he crossed with the thought, I suppose I am not to be allowed a trial but shall be sent straight to Siberia. And at the thought his heart started beating in a manner which the most jealous of lovers could not have rivaled. At length there opened a door, and before him he saw a study full of portfolios, ledgers, and dispatch boxes, with, standing behind them, the gravely menacing figure of the Prince. There stands my executioner, thought Chichikov to himself. He is about to tear me to pieces as a wolf tears a lamb. Indeed the Prince's lips were simply quivering with rage. Once before did I spare you, he said, and allow you to remain in the town when you ought to have been in a prison. Yet your only return for my clemency has been to revert to a career of fraud, and of fraud as dishonorable as ever a man engaged in. To what dishonorable fraud do you refer, your Highness? asked Chichikov, trembling from head to foot. The Prince approached and looked him straight in the eyes. Let me tell you, he said, that the woman whom you induced to witness a certain will has been arrested, and that you will be confronted with her. The world seemed suddenly to grow dim before Chichikov's sight. Your Highness, he gasped, I will tell you the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I am guilty, yes, I am guilty, but I am not so guilty as you think, for I was led away by rascals. That anyone can have led you away as impossible, retorted the Prince. Recorded against your name there stands more felonies than even the most hardened liar could have invented. I believe that never in your life have you done a deed not innately dishonorable, that not a copic have you ever obtained by ought but shameful methods of trickery and theft, the penalty for which is Siberia and the Knute. But enough of this. From this room you will be conveyed to prison, where, with other rogues and thieves, you will be confined until your trial may come on. And this is lenient treatment on my part, for you are worse, far worse, than the felons who will be your companions. They are but poor men in smocks and sheepskins, whereas you, without concluding his words, the Prince shot a glance at Chichikov's smoked gray shot with flame-colour apparel. Then he touched a bell. Your Highness, cried Chichikov, have mercy upon me. You are the father of a family. Spare me for the sake of my aged mother. Rubbish, exclaimed the Prince, even as before you besought me for the sake of a wife and children whom you did not even possess. So now you would speak to me of an aged mother. Your Highness protested Chichikov. Though I am a wretch on the lowest of rascals, and though it is true that I lied when I told you that I possessed a wife and children, I swear that as God as my witness it has always been my desire to possess a wife and to fulfill all the duties of a man and citizen, and to earn the respect of my fellows and the authorities. But what could be done against the force of circumstances? By hook or by crook I have ever been forced to win a living, though confronted at every step by wiles and temptations and traitorous enemies and to spoilers. So much as the spenso that my life has, throughout, resembled a bark tossed by tempestuous waves, a bark driven at the mercy of the winds. Oh, I am only a man, Your Highness. And in a moment the tears had gushed in torrents from his eyes, and he had fallen forward at the Prince's feet, fallen forward just as he was, in his smoked gray shot with flame-coloured frockcoat, his velvet waistcoat, his satin tie, and his exquisitely fitting breeches. While from his neatly brushed pate, as again and again he struck his hand against his forehead, there came an odorous whiff of best quality odour cologne. Away with him, exclaimed the Prince to the gendarme who had just entered, summoned the escort to remove him. Your Highness, Chichikov cried again as he clasped the Prince's knees, but shuddering all over and struggling to free himself, the Prince repeated his order for the prisoner's removal. Your Highness, I say that I will not leave this room until you have accorded me mercy, cried Chichikov, as he clung to the Prince's leg with such tenacity that, frockcoat and all, he began to be dragged along the floor. Away with him, I say, once more the Prince exclaimed with the sort of indefinable aversion which one feels at the sight of a repulsive insect which he cannot summon up the courage to crush with his boot. So convulsively did the Prince shudder that Chichikov, clinging to his leg, received a kick on the nose, yet still the prisoner retained his hold, until at length a couple of burly gendarmes tore him away and, grasping his arms, hurried him, pale, dishevelled, and in that strange half-conscious condition into which a man sinks when he sees before him only the dark, terrible figure of death, the phantom which is so apparent to all our natures from the building. But on the threshold the party came face to face with Murozov, and in Chichikov's heart the circumstance revived a ray of hope, resting himself with almost supernatural strength from the grasp of the exporting gendarmes. He threw himself at the feet of the horrors-stricken old man. Paul Ivanovich, Murozov exclaimed, What has happened to you? Save me, gasped Chichikov, they are taking me away to prison and death. Yet almost as he spoke the gendarmes seized him again, and hurried him away so swiftly that Murozov's reply escaped his ears. End of Part 2, Chapter 4, Section 2. Recording by Kalinda in Raymond, New Hampshire on November 16, 2007. Dead Souls, Part 2, Chapter 4, Section 3. 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 Vasilyevich Gogol. Translated by DJ Hogarth. Part 2, Chapter 4, Section 3. Read by Kalinda. A damp, moldy cell which reeks of soldiers' boots and leggings, an unvarnished table, two sorry chairs, a window closed with grating, a crazy stove which, while letting the smoke emerge through its cracks, gave out no heat. Such was the den to which the man who had just begun to taste the sweets of life, and to attract the attention of his fellows with his new suit of smoked gray shot with flame color, now found himself consigned. Not even necessary as had he been allowed to bring away with him, nor his dispatch box which contained all his booty. Now, with the indentured deeds of the Dead Souls, it was lodged in the hands of a Chinovnik, and as he thought of these things, Chichikov rolled about the floor and felt the cankerous warmth of remorse seize upon and gnaw at his heart, and, bite its way ever further and further into that heart, so defenceless against his ravages. Until he made up his mind that, should he have to suffer another 24 hours of this misery, there would no longer be a Chichikov in the world. Yet over him, as over everyone, there hung poised the all-saving hand, and an hour after his arrival at the prison, the doors of the jail opened to admit Murotsov. Compared with Porchichikov's sense of relief when the old man entered his cell, even the pleasure experienced by a thirsty, dusty traveler when he has given a drink of clear spring water to cool his dry-parched throat fades into insignificance. Ah, my deliverer! he cried as he rose from the floor where he had been groveling in heart-rending paroxysms of grief. Seizing the old man's hand, he kissed it and pressed it to his bosom. Then bursting into tears, he added, God himself will reward you for having come to visit an unfortunate wretch. Murotsov looked at him sorrowfully and said no more than, Ah, Pali Ivanovich, Pali Ivanovich, what has happened? What has happened, cried Chichikov? I have been ruined by an accursed woman. That was because I could not do things in moderation. I was powerless to stop myself in time. Satan tempt me and drove me from my senses and bereft me of human prudence. Yes, truly I have sinned. I have sinned. Yet how came I so to sin? To think that a devoryanin, yes, a devoryanin, should be thrown into prison without process or trial. I repeat, a devoryanin. Why was I not given time to go home and collect my effects? Whereas now they are left with no one to look after them. My dispatch box, my dispatch box, it contained my whole property, all that my heart's blood and years of toil and want have been needed to acquire. And now everything will be stolen at the Nazivisilevich. Everything will be taken from me, my God! An unable to stand against the torrent of grief which came rushing over his heart once more, he sobbed aloud in tones which penetrated even the thickness of the prison walls and made dull echoes awake behind them. Then, tearing off his satin tie and seizing by the collar the smoked gray shot with flame-colour frockcoat, he stripped the ladder from his shoulders. Ah, Polly Ivanovich, said the old man, how even now the property which you have acquired is blinding your eyes and causing you to fail to realize your terrible position. Yes, my good friend and benefactor, wailed Porchychikov despairingly and clasping Morozov by the knees, yet save me if you can, the prince is fond of you and would do anything for your sake. No, Polly Ivanovich, however much I might wish to save you and however much I might try to do so, I could not help you as you desire, for it is to the power of an inexorable law and not to the authority of any one man that you have rendered yourself subject. Satan tempted me and has ended by making me an outcast from the human race. Pchychikov beat his head against the wall and struck the table with his fists until the blood spurred it from his hand, yet neither his head nor his hand seemed to be conscious of the least pain. Calm yourself, Polly Ivanovich, said Morozov. Calm yourself and consider how best you can make your peace with God. Think of your miserable soul and not the judgment of man. I will, Atenasi Vasilievich, I will, but what a fate is mine! Did ever such a fate befall a man? To think of all the patience with which I have gathered my copax, of all the toil and trouble which I have endured, yet what I have done has not been done with the intention of robbing anyone, nor of cheating the treasury. Why, then, did I gather those copax? I gathered them to the end that one day I might be able to live in plenty and also to have something to leave to the wife and children whom, for the benefit and welfare of my country, I hoped eventually to win and maintain. That was why I gathered those copax. True, I worked by devious methods, that I fully admit, but what else could I do? And even devious methods I employed only when I saw that the street road would not serve my purpose so well as a crooked. Moreover, as I toiled the appetite for those methods grew upon me, yet what I took I took only from the rich, whereas villains exist who, while drawing thousands a year from the treasury, despoil the poor, and take from the man with nothing even that which he has. Is it not the cruelty of fate, therefore, that just when I was beginning to reap the harvest of my toil, to touch it, so to speak, with the tip of one finger, there should have arisen a sudden storm which has sent my bark to pieces on a rock. My capital had nearly reached the sum of three hundred thousand rubles, and a three-storied house was as good as mine, and twice over I could have bought a country estate. Why, then, should such a tempest have burst upon me? Why should I have sustained such a blow? Was not my life already like a bark tossed to and fro in the billows? Where is heaven's justice? Where is the reward for all my patience, for my boundless perseverance? Three times did I have to begin life afresh, and each time that I lost my all I began with a single copac at a moment when other men would have given themselves up to despair and drink. How much did I not have to overcome? How much did I not have to bear? Every copac which I gained I had to make with my whole strength, for though to others wealth may come easily, every corn of mine had to be forged with a nail worth three copacs as the proverb has it. With such a nail, with the nail of an iron, unwarying perseverance did I forge my copacs. Convulsively sobbing with the grief which he could not repress, Chichikov sank upon a chair, tore from his shoulders the last ragged trailing remnants of his frock coat, and hurled them from him. Then, thrusting his fingers into the hair which he had once been so careful to preserve, he pulled it out by handfuls at a time, as though he hoped through physical pain to deaden the mental agony which he was suffering. Meanwhile Muratsov sat gazing in silence at the unwanted spectacle of a man who had lately been mincing with the gait of a whirlbling or a military fob, now writhing in dishevelment and despair as he poured out upon the hostile forces by which human ingenuity so often find itself outwitted a flood of invective. Paul Ivanovich, Paul Ivanovich at length, said Muratsov. What could not each of us rise to be? Did we but devote to good ends the same measure of energy and of patience which we bestow upon unworthy objects? How much good would not you yourself have affected? Yet I do not grieve so much for the fact that you have sinned against your fellow, as I grieve for the fact that you have sinned against yourself, and the rich store of gifts and opportunities which has been committed to your care. Though originally destined to rise, you have wandered from the path and fallen. Oh, Atanas Ivasilievich, cried Porchichikov, clasping his friend's hands, I swear to you that if you would but restore me my freedom and recover from me my lost property, I would lead a different life from this time forth. Save me! You who alone can work my deliverance. Save me! How can I do that? So to do I should need to procure the setting aside of a law. Again, even if I were to make the attempt, the prince is a strict administrator, and would refuse on any consideration to release you. Yes, but for you all things are possible. It is not the law that troubles me. With that I could find a means to deal. It is the fact that for no offence at all I have been cast into prison and treated like a dog, and deprived of my papers and dispatch box and all my property. Save me if you can. Again, clasping the old man's knees, he bedewed them with his tears. Polivanovich, said Murdoch, shaking his head, how that property of yours still seals your eyes and ears so that you cannot so much as listen to the promptings of your own soul. Ah, I will think of my soul, too, if you will only save me. Polivanovich, the old man began again and then stopped. For a little while there was a pause. Polivanovich, at length he went on, to save you does not lie within my power. Surely you yourself see that. But so far as I can I will endeavour to, at all events, lighten your lot and procure your eventual release. Whether or not I shall succeed, I do not know, but I will make the attempt. And should I, contrary to my expectations, prove successful, I beg of you, in return for these my efforts, to renounce all thought of benefit from the property which you have acquired? Sincerely do I assure you that, were I myself to be deprived of my property, and my property greatly exceeds yours in magnitude, I should not shed a single tear. It is not the property of which men can deprive us that matters, but the property of which no one on earth can deprive or to spoil us. You are a man who has seen something of life, to use your own words. You have been a barked, tossed hither and thither by tempestuous waves. Yet still will there be left to you a remnant of substance on which to live. And therefore I beseech you to settle down in some quiet nook, where there is a church, and where none but plain, good-hearted folk abide. Or should you feel a yearning to leave behind your posterity? Take in marriage a good woman who shall bring you not money, but an aptitude for simple, modest, domestic life. But this life, the life of turmoil, with its longings and its temptations, forget, and let it forget you. For there is no peace in it. See for yourself how at every step it brings one but hatred and treachery and deceit. Indeed, yes, agreed the repentant Chichikov, gladly will I do as you wish, since for many a day past have I been longing to amend my life, and to engage in husbandry, and to reorder my affairs. A demon, the tempter Satan himself, has beguiled me and led me from the right path. Suddenly there had recurred to Chichikov long unknown, long unfamiliar feelings. Something seemed to be striving to come to life again in him, something dim and remote, something which had been crushed out of his boyhood by the dreary, deadening education of his youthful days, by his desolate home, by his subsequent lack of family ties, by the poverty and niggardliness of his early impressions, by the grim eye of fate, an eye which had always seemed to be regarding him as through a misty, mournful, frost-encrusted window-pane, and to be mocking at his struggles for freedom. And as these feelings came back to the penitent, a groan burst from his lips, and covering his faith with his hands, he moaned, It is all true! It is all true! Of little avail our knowledge of the world and experience of men, unless based on a secure foundation, observed Morozov. Though you have fallen, Polyvanovich, awake to better things, for as yet there is time. No, no, groan Chichikov in a voice which made Morozov's heart bleed. It is too late, too late. More and more is the conviction gaining upon me that I am powerless, that I have strayed too far ever to be able to do as you bid me. The fact that I have become what I am is due to my early schooling, for though my father taught me moral lessons and beat me, and sent me to copy maxims into a book, he himself stole land from his neighbors and forced me to help him. I have even known him to bring an unjust suit and defraud the orphan whose guardian he was. Consequently I know and feel that though my life has been different from his, I do not hate roguery as I ought to hate it, and that my nature is coarse, and that in me there is no real love for what is good, no real spark of that beautiful instinct for well-doing which becomes a second nature as settled habit. Also, never do I yearn to strive for what is right as I yearn to acquire property. This is no more than the truth. What else could I do but confess it? The old man sighed. Paul Ivanovich, he said, I know that you possess willpower and that you possess also perseverance. A medicine may be bitter, yet the patient will gladly take it when assured that only by its means can he recover. Therefore, if it really be that you have no genuine love for doing good, do good by forcing yourself to do so. Thus you will benefit yourself even more than you will benefit him for whose sake the act is performed. Only force yourself to do good just once and again, and, behold, he will suddenly conceive the true love for well-doing. That is so, believe me. A kingdom is to be won only by striving, says the proverb. That is to say, things are to be attained only by putting forth one's whole strength, since nothing short of one's whole strength will bring one to the desired goal. Paul Ivanovich, within you there is a source of strength denied to many another man. I refer to the strength of an iron perseverance. Can not that help you to overcome? Most men are weak and lack willpower, whereas I believe that you possess the power to act a hero's part. Sinking deep into Chichikov's heart, these words would seem to have aroused in it a faint stirring of ambition, so much so that, if it was not fortitude which shone in his eyes, at all events it was something verile, and of much the same nature. Atanasi Vasilievich, he said firmly, If you will but petition for my release, as well as for permission for me to leave here with the portion of my property, I swear to you, on my word of honor, that I will begin a new life, and buy a country estate, and become the head of a household, and save money, not for myself, but for others, and do good everywhere, and to the best of my ability, and forget alike myself and the feasting and debauchery of town life, and lead, instead, a plain, sober existence. In that resolve may God strengthen you, cried the old man with unbounded joy, and I, for my part, will do my utmost to procure your release, and though God alone knows whether my efforts will be successful, at all events I hope to bring about a mitigation of your sentence. Come, let me embrace you, how you have filled my heart with gladness, with God's help I will now go to the Prince. And the next moment, Chichikov found himself alone. His whole nature felt shaken and softened, even as, when the bellows have fanned the furnace to a sufficient heat, a plate compounded even of the hardest and most fire-resisting metals dissolves, lows, and turns to the liquefied state. I myself can feel but little, he reflected, but I intend to use my every faculty to help others to feel. I myself am but bad and worthless, but I intend to do my utmost to set others on the right road. I myself am but an indifferent Christian, but I intend to strive never to yield to temptation, but to work hard, and to till my land with the sweat of my brow, and to engage only in honorable pursuits, and to influence my fellows in the same direction. For after all, am I so very useless? At least I could maintain a household, for I am frugal and active and intelligent and steadfast. The only thing is to make my mind up to it. Thus Chichikov pondered, and as he did so his half-awakened energies of soul touched upon something. That is to say, dimly his instinct divine that every man has a duty to perform, and that that duty may be performed here, there, and everywhere, and no matter what the circumstances and the emotions and the difficulties which compass a man about. And with such clearness did Chichikov mentally picture to himself the life of grateful toil which lies removed from the bustle of towns and the temptations which man, forgetful of the obligation of labour, has invented to beguile an hour of idleness that almost our hero forgot his unpleasant position, and even felt ready to thank Providence for the calamity which had befallen him, provided that it should end in his being released, and in his receiving back a portion of his property. Presently the massive door of the cell opened to admit a chinovnik named Samos Vitov, a robust sensual individual, who was reputed by his comrades to be something of a rake. Had he served in the army he would have done wonders, for he would have stormed any point, however dangerous and inaccessible, and captured canon under the very noses of the foe. But as it was, the lack of a more war-like field for his energies caused him to devote the latter principally to dissipation. Nevertheless he enjoyed great popularity, for he was loyal to the point that, once his word had been given, nothing would ever make him break it. At the same time some reason or another led him to regard his superiors in the light of a hostile battery which, come what might, he must breach at any weak or unguarded spot or gap which might be capable of being utilized for the purpose. We have all heard of your plight, he began, as soon as the door had been safely closed behind him. Yes, everyone has heard of it. But never mind, things will yet come right. We will do our very best for you, and act as your humble servants in everything. Thirty thousand rubles is our price, no more. Indeed, said Chichikov, and for that shall I be completely exonerated? Yes, completely, and also given some compensation for your loss of time. And how much am I to pay in return, you say? Thirty thousand rubles, to be divided among ourselves, the Governor General's staff, and the Governor General's Secretary. But how is even that to be managed, for all my effects, including my dispatch box, will have been sealed up and taken away for examination? In an hour's time they will be within your hands again, said some most fitov. Shall we shake hands over the bargain? Chichikov did so with a beating heart, for he could scarcely believe his ears. For the present then, farewell, concluded some most fitov. I have instructed a certain mutual friend that the important points are silence and presence of mind. Hmm! thought Chichikov. It is to my lawyer that he is referring. Even when some most fitov had departed, the prisoner found it difficult to credit all that had been said. Yet not an hour had elapsed before a messenger arrived with his dispatch box and the papers and money therein, practically undisturbed and intact. Later it came out that some most fitov had assumed complete authority in the matter. First he had rebuked the gendarmes guarding Chichikov's effects for lack of vigilance, and then sent word to the superintendent that additional men were required for the purpose, after which he had taken the dispatch box into his own charge, removed from it every paper which could possibly compromise Chichikov, sealed up the rest in a packet, and ordered a gendarm to convey the hole to their owner on the pretense of forwarding him sundry garments necessary for the night. In the result, Chichikov received not only his papers, but also some warm clothing for his hypersensitive limbs. Such a swift recovery of his treasures delighted him beyond expression, and gathering new hope, he began once more to dream of such allurements as theater going, and the ballet girl after whom he had for some time passed been dangling. Gradually did the country estate and the simple life begin to recede into the distance. Gradually did the townhouse and the life of Gaely begin to loom larger and larger in the foreground. Oh, life, life! Meanwhile, in government offices and chancellories, there had been set on foot a boundless volume of work. Clerical pens slaved, and brains skilled in legal cases toiled, for each official had the artist's liking for the curved line in preference to the straight. And all the while, like a hidden magician, Chichikov's lawyer imparted driving power to that machine which caught up a man into its mechanism before he could even look round. And the complexity of it increased and increased, for Samoz Fitov surpassed himself in importance and daring. On learning of the place of confinement of the woman who had been arrested, he presented himself at the doors, and passed so well for a smart young officer of the gendarmerie that the sentry saluted and sprang to attention. Have you been on duty long, as Samoz Fitov, since this morning, Your Excellency? And shall you soon be relieved, in three hours from now, Your Excellency? Presently I shall want you, so I will instruct your officer to have you relieved at once. Very good, Your Excellency. Hastening home thereafter at top speed and donning the uniform of a gendarme with a false mustache and a false pair of whiskers, an ensemble in which the devil himself would not have known him, Samoz Fitov then made for the jail where Chichikov was confined, and en route, impressed into the service the first street woman whom he encountered, and handed her over to the care of two young fellows of like sort with himself. The next step was to hurry back to the prison where the original woman had been interned, and there to intimate to the sentry that he, Samoz Fitov, with whiskers and rifle complete, had been sent to relieve the said sentry at his post. A proceeding which, of course, enabled the newly arrived relief to ensure, while performing his self-assumed turn of duty, that for the woman lying under her rest there should be substituted the woman recently recruited to the plot, and that the former should then be conveyed to a place of concealment where she was highly unlikely to be discovered.