dead souls, imperial envoy

Chapter 12 Dead Souls (12)
"That's a liar!" said Sobakevich coldly. "He lied to you, betrayed you, and sat down to dinner with you! I know them well: they are all liars; Like this: liars ride on liars, and use liars to drive them away. All crooks who betrayed Christ. There's only one decent guy here: the Attorney General. But this guy is a real stupid pig."

After listening to these laudatory remarks, though brief, Chichikov understood that the other officials need not mention it; and he finally remembered that Sobakevich did not like to speak well of anyone.

"What's the matter, dear, let's go to dinner," said the lady to Sobakevich.

After Sobakevich said "Please!", the hostess and guests went to a small table with cold drinks, drank a glass of vodka as usual, and ate some cold food. Same, all kinds of salted appetizers.Then, everyone walked to the restaurant together.The hostess walked in the forefront, like an elegant goose floating on the water.There were four sets of cutlery on the narrow table in the dining room.The lady in the fourth place soon appeared, and it was difficult to tell who she was: a wife or a girl, a relative or a housekeeper, or a common diner who lived there; Wrapped in a flower scarf.Some people in this world do not exist as independent entities, they are always attached to other entities as insignificant blobs.They always appear in the same position, and their heads always maintain the same still posture, so that you almost think of them as decorations in the house, and you will guess whether their mouths have never spoken a word; but As soon as they are in the maids' room or the store room, they will be different!
"Honey, today's soup is very good!" said Sobakevich, taking a sip of the vegetable soup, and took from the plate a steamed stuffed bun - a famous dish with soup, lasted in lamb's stomach Served with buckwheat rice, ox brains and mushroom stems. "Such buns," he said, turning to Chichikov, "you can't get them in the city, God knows what they'll put in them!"

"But the food at the governor's residence is also good," said Chichikov.

"Do you know what it's made of? You wouldn't eat it if you knew."

"I don't know how to make it, and it's not easy to say it casually, but the pork chops and stewed fish are very good."

"You're wrong. I don't know what they buy at the market. The bad cook, who learned from the French, buys a tomcat at the market, skins it, and puts it on the table as a rabbit." .”

"Oh! How can you say such a disgusting thing," said Mrs. Sobakevich.

"Don't say what to do, my dear, they did it this way; you can't blame me, they all do it. No matter what kind of rags, if it was in our house, Akulika would have thrown it away-please Excuse me—throw it in the slop bucket, but they'll make soup out of it! Put it in the soup! Put it in the soup!"

"You always talk about such disgusting things at dinner!" Mrs. Sobakevich rebuked.

"My dear, what can I do about it," said Sobakevich, "I didn't do it, but I want to tell you: I will never eat messy things. Even if the frog is wrapped in sugar, I will eat it." I won't put it in my mouth, and I don't eat oysters: I know what oysters are like. Have some mutton," he said, turning to Chichikov again, "it's lamb ribs with rice, not a city man's kitchen The kind of mutton that is made here, their meat has been on the market for four or five days! This is all thought up by German and French doctors: for this, I really want to kill them all! What diet therapy did they think , to treat the disease by starving and not being full! They Germans are so thin that they can go without food, and they think that the stomachs of Russians can stand it too! No, they are all nonsense, all..." said Sobakevich shook his head angrily at this point, "They talk about civilization, civilization, but this kind of civilization - phew! - I would like to use another word, but it is inappropriate to say it at dinner. I don't It will be like this. If I want pork--the whole pig; if I want mutton, a whole lamb; Sobakevich's action confirmed his words: he put most of the pulled lamb ribs on his plate, ate it up, and sucked every bone.

"This guy seems to be a good eater," thought Chichikov.

"It's not like that in my house," said Sobakevich, rubbing his oiled hands, "it's not like that in my house, I'm not like Plyushkin: there are eight hundred serfs, and my food is not as good as my cattle!"

Chichikov asked: "Who is this Plyushkin?"

"He's a bastard," said Sobakevich, "incredibly stingy. He's better than any prisoner in heavy handcuffs: he's starving to death!"

"Really?" Chichikov hurriedly answered, "Do you mean that many serfs died in his family?"

"Large masses, like dead flies."

"Like a dead fly? How far does he live from you?"

"Five miles."

Chichikov couldn't help repeating: "Wuli!" He even felt his own heartbeat. "Then when I go out from you, should I turn right or left?"

Sobakevich said: "I advise you not to ask how to get to the old dog's house! You will be forgiven for going to any dirty place than to go to his house."

"No, I'm just asking, I want to know the situation in various places." Chichikov replied.

After the lamb ribs, milk cakes were brought up, each of which was much larger than the plate; soon a large turkey like a calf was served, stuffed with various fillings: eggs, rice, pork liver, There are also all kinds of unspeakable things stuffed in the belly of the turkey.Lunch is finally over.When he left the table, Chichikov felt that he had gained about a pound more than when he entered.Back in the living room, a small dish of jam was placed in the living room, not pear jam, not plum jam, and not wild jam, but neither the host nor the guest touched it.The hostess went to put jam in other small dishes.While she was out, Chichikov planned to talk business to Sobakevich. Sobakevich, who had eaten a big meal, grunted and made some vague sounds. He lay on the armchair with his hands on his chest for a while. Make the sign of the cross and cover your mouth for a while.Chichikov said: "I want to talk to you about a little matter."

"Bring another dish of honey!" The hostess said, bringing in a small dish, "boil turnips with honey!"

Sobakevich replied: "We will eat later! You go back first, I will help Pavel Ivanovich take off his tuxedo and take a rest!"

The hostess asked for an eiderdown quilt and pillows again, but the host said, "No need, we can just sit in the armchair."

The hostess finally left.Sobakevich lowered his head, ready to listen to what was going on.For some unknown reason, Chichikov went around in a big circle, first gave an overview of the whole of Russia, and praised its vastness, even wider than the ancient Roman Empire, which surprised foreigners... ... Sobakevich kept his head down.Chichikov went on to say that the glory of this country is hard to find in the world, but according to the current regulations of this country, those serfs who have ended their lives are still counted as living serfs before the new serf census. Don't let a lot of trivial and useless procedures increase the burden on the official bureau, don't let the already complicated state institutions be more complicated... Sobakevich is still listening with his head bowed.Chichikov went on to say that although such a measure was correct, it would impose a heavy burden on many serf owners, since he had to pay taxes for them as if they were living serfs. Pay homage to the burden.Here Chichikov is particularly careful: he does not refer to dead serfs as dead serfs, but as serfs that no longer exist.

Sobakevich still listened with his head bowed, without showing any other expression on his face.It seems that there is no soul in this body, that is to say, his soul is not where it should be at all, just like the shriveled old man in the folklore, who buried his soul in the mountain and is still there. There is a thick shell covering the top, so no matter how much the soul churns, it seems that there is no trace of fluctuation.

"How?..." After Chichikov finished speaking, he waited anxiously for the other party's answer.

"You want dead serfs?" Sobakevich asked, his tone flat, without a sense of surprise, as if he was talking about food.

"Yes," replied Chichikov, adding, for the sake of ambiguity, "non-existing serfs."

"Yes, why not..." Sobakevich said.

"Since there are, then you are undoubtedly...willing to get rid of them?"

"Forgive me, I'm willing to sell." Sobakevich raised his head slightly as he spoke, presumably he had seen that the buyer was profitable here.

Chichikov thought to himself: "Damn, this guy said he would sell it before I even opened his mouth!" So he opened his mouth and asked, "For example, how much will it sell for? For this kind of thing, talking about money... seems a bit Rare..."

"I won't lie to you, a hundred rubles each!" said Sobakevich.

"One hundred and one!" cried Chichikov, looking into the other's eyes and opening his mouth wide, not knowing whether he had misheard or whether Sobakevich's clumsy tongue could not express clearly, and put one The number is said to be another number.

"Why, don't you think it's expensive?" Sobakevich asked. "What price are you going to give?"

"I'll give you a price! We probably didn't understand each other's words, and we forgot what we were talking about. Or we made a mistake. To be honest, I think eighty kopecks is the highest price!"

"Eighty kopeks—what's that!"

"In my opinion, I think, not going out much."

"But I'm not selling straw sandals."

"But you must also say that these are not living people."

"Do you think you can find a fool who will sell you a registered serf for a few kopeks?"

"Just: why do you say they are registered serfs? The serfs are dead, leaving behind only empty names. But to save words, I'll give you one and a half rubles each, and nothing more. "

"How can you tell such a price! If you want to buy it, give me a price!"

"It can't be done, Mikhail Semyonovich, it can't be done: believe me, what can't be done just can't be done," Chichikov said, but still Another half ruble was added.

"Why are you so stingy?" said Sobakevich, "I'm sure it's not expensive! People will cheat you and sell you some rubbish; I sold you like big and good walnuts, all of them It's a good thing: either a strong peasant or a man of real workmanship. Come to think of it again, let's say the coachman Mikheev! He only makes spring carriages and never makes other carriages. He is reliable, Unlike the ones made in Moscow that would break in an hour, he can nail and paint himself!"

Chichikov was about to say that Mikheev was dead, but Sobakevich, as the saying goes, was eloquent and eloquent (where did he get this diplomatist energy):" Where's the carpenter—the cork Sestepan? I'll bet your head, you won't find a peasant like that anywhere. He's really strong! He's three feet and one inch tall! If he's going to be a guard Army, God knows what title it will be."

Chichikov wanted to say that "Cork" was no longer alive, but Sobakevich's words were so unintelligible that he had no choice but to listen. "Milushkin, the furnace builder! He can build furnaces in all the houses. Maxim Telyatnikov is a good shoemaker: he can make a pair of boots with an awl, and he doesn't drink , all you have to do is say thank you! And Yeremy Solokoplyohin! This peasant is worth all the serfs himself: he goes to Moscow to do it, and he pays me five hundred rubles every time the rent is paid. See Look at these flawless people! It's not like what Plyushkin sold you."

"But I'm sorry," said Chichikov, who was finally able to interject, surprised at this seemingly eloquent speech, "why do you talk about their skills? No matter how great they are, they are all dead. Dead. A dead man is no use for a hedge, as the saying goes."

"Death is death," Sobakevich seemed to suddenly remember that these serfs were dead, and after a sudden realization, he added, "But then again: what do you think of those who are alive now? They What are they? They are just flies, how can they be considered human beings.”

"But they are still living people. Those people you mentioned are just phantoms."

"No, how can it be a phantom! Let me tell you this, a man like Mikheev, that big man, can't even get into this room. Where can you find him: he is definitely not a phantom! Then The shoulders of two strong men, not as strong as a horse; I want to ask you, where else can you find such a phantom!" As he said this, his face had turned to the wall hanging The portraits of Bagration and Kolokotroni,—this happens all the time when people are talking: the one who is speaking suddenly does not know why he is speaking to an irrelevant third party and not to a third party. The other party said that although the third person may be a stranger, and the speaker knew that he would not get any opinions from him, he looked at him firmly, as if hoping that he would come to judge; As for the third party, he will be at a loss for a while, not knowing whether to stand for a while according to etiquette and then walk away, or to express his views on issues that he has not heard at all.

"No, not more than two rubles, I can't give any more," said Chichikov.

"Then, so that you won't complain that I charge a high price, and I don't want to put you at a disadvantage, let's say seventy-five rubles a piece, really, but in cash, we all know each other!"

Chichikov thought: "Probably he takes me for a fool." He said: "I think it's really strange: we two seem to be acting in a comedy, otherwise I can't understand... You seem to be a clever man." People, people with dignity. These are insignificant things. What is this thing worth? What use will it be?"

"If you want to buy it now, it can be seen that it is useful."

After hearing this, Chichikov could only bite his lip, but had nothing to answer.He had just opened his mouth to say some personal family reasons, when Sobakevich interrupted him: "I don't want to know about your family affairs: I don't inquire about other people's household affairs, that's your business. You need serfs, I'll sell it to you, you will regret it if you can't buy it."

Chichikov said: "Two rubles each."

"Oh, you are like the magpie raised by Yakov, as the saying goes. You learn to say a word and do everything; you won't exchange anything for two rubles. Give me another price!"

Chichikov thought: "Damn it, give him half a ruble and let the dog buy walnuts!"

"Then I will add half a ruble."

"Then let me give you my final price: fifty rubles! Really, you won't get such a good man for that price anywhere! I lost money."

"What a greedy ghost!" Chichikov cursed in his heart, and then said with a slightly ashamed expression: "What is this actually... I can get it from other people for free. It seems like It's something you don't want to mess with; all the people are more than happy to give it to me, so they can get out of trouble right away. Only a fool would pay taxes for them!"

"But you know, this kind of business—I'm just talking to you, because we have friendship—is usually not allowed. If I or someone else tells it, the person who does this business will be honored. Sweep the floor, no one will deal with him anymore."

"Good fellow, use this method!" Chichikov thought for a while, and said quite seriously: "What you want to think is up to you, and it is not as useful for me to buy them as you think. , but I have this habit. If you don't sell two and a half rubles, then we will meet again!"

Sobakevich thought: "I really made up my mind to leave him alone!"

"Okay, let's stop arguing, thirty rubles a piece, you can take it all!"

"No, let's see you again! I don't think you want to sell."

"Don't worry, don't worry!" said Sobakevich, still clutching Chichikov's hand, and stamping on his foot.Our hero probably forgot to be on his guard and had to accept his punishment: he jumped up on one foot, yelling ouch.

"Excuse me! I probably harassed you. Please sit here! Please!" After speaking, he pushed Chichikov into the armchair, and his movements were surprisingly flexible, like a trained to roll over. Bear, and did all sorts of tricks when he heard "Bear, let the kids steal the beans" or "Bear, let the cunt take a bath."

"Really, I still have something urgent to do, so I don't want to waste any more time here."

"Wait a minute, I'll say something you like right away." Sobakevich leaned up to Chichikov and whispered into Chichikov's ear as if he wanted to tell him a secret: " How about a quarter?"

"You mean twenty-five rubles? No, no, not a quarter of a quarter, not a cent."

Sobakevich was silent.Chichikov did not speak either.There was silence for about 2 minutes.Bagration, with his hooked nose on the wall, could watch the negotiations carefully.Sobakevich broke the silence and asked: "What is your final price?"

"Two and a half rubles."

"Really, even three rubles! How can you treat a man like a turnip?"

"I can't do it."

"Oh, I really can't do anything about you. I'll be at a loss! Who gave me such a temperament: I can't make people close to me sad. In order to get things done, I think I have to make a contract."

"of course."

"You see, we still have to go to town."

(End of this chapter)