dead souls, imperial envoy

Chapter 3 Dead Souls (3)
So they went on the road again to find the village of Manilovka.After walking for two versts, I saw a fork that turned into a country dirt road, but I walked another two, three, and four versts on this country dirt road, and I still didn't see a two-story building.Only then did our Mr. Chichikov realize that if a Russian landowner invites you to his farm, he says fifteen versts, but in fact you have to go at least thirty versts.The location of Manilovka village does not attract many visitors.The master's house stands alone on an open hill, no matter what the wind blows, it will definitely have a foresight here.The hillside was covered with well-manicured lawns, and among the lawns were scattered English-style flower-beds, with lilacs and yellow acacias planted in them; Lifting the treetops with small and sparse leaves.Below the two birch trees, you can see a small pavilion with a green flat pavilion and blue wooden columns. The inscription "The Temple of Meditation" is engraved on the pavilion; further down the pavilion is a pond full of green weeds , such ponds are not uncommon in Russia, as is often the case in English gardens of Russian landowners.At the foot of the hill, gray wooden farmhouses crisscrossed and criss-crossed. The log farmhouses aroused the interest of our hero. There is not even a tree among more than 200 farmhouses, and there is no green in sight; the thick logs are full of eyes.Adding to the vibrancy of the scene are two peasant women, with their skirts raised high and tucked in at their waists, walking in the knee-deep pool water dragging a tattered fishing net containing two shrimps. Struggling, you can still see the scales of a caught bream gleaming; the two peasant women seem to be having a fight, and you can see that they are yelling at each other for some reason.There is a gray pine forest not far away, which makes people not interested in exploring at all.Even the sky is so helpless: neither sunny nor cloudy, covered with a layer of light gray with lazy vigor, only soldiers in the garrison - the old uniform of a low-level army who gets drunk every Sunday You can only see this gray on the screen.In this kind of picture, of course, there is no lack of a rooster reminding the weather change. Although this rooster was pecked bald by other roosters because of some romantic affairs, it is still crowing loudly and flapping when it is excited. Wings that have been bare for a long time.Before Chichikov's carriage entered the compound, he saw the master standing on the steps, wearing a green wool frock coat, with one hand covering his eyes, trying to look towards the carriage.As the carriage got closer and closer, his eyes became more and more joyful, and his smile became more and more revealed.As Chichikov jumped out of the carriage, Manilov finally blurted out: "Pavel Ivanovitch! You have finally remembered us!"

The two friends embraced and kissed warmly, and Manilov invited the guest into the house.Although they didn't take too long to walk through the porch, hall, and dining room, let's see if we have enough time to introduce the owner of the house.Although the author must admit here, this is a very difficult thing to do well.A prominent figure is easy to draw: you just pick up paint and daub it on the canvas, a pair of big black eyes, long eyebrows, a wrinkled forehead, a black or fiery red cloak on the shoulders— —a portrait is sketched out; but the gentleman before us, who were so numerous in the crowd, they looked so much alike to each other, that when you looked closely they had many elusive traits,— —The portraits of these people are difficult to paint.Their characteristics are so subtle that it is difficult to grasp, and one must cheer up and explore deeply with a keen eye that sees every detail.

What kind of character Manilov belongs to, probably only God can know.There is a kind of people in this world, they are often described as: mediocre, neither good nor bad, as the saying goes, neither Bao Gedan in the city nor Sherifang in the country, Manilov probably belongs to this kind of people.He has a dignified appearance, and his appearance is quite friendly, but he seems to put too much sugar in his cuteness, and his behavior and speech are always flattering and fawning.He always has a sweet smile, and has light yellow hair and blue eyes.In the first minute of talking with him, you will definitely say: "What a kind and lovely person this is!" In the second minute, you will be speechless, and in the third minute, you have to mutter: "What kind of person is this?" Man!" So you want to avoid him; and even if you don't, you're bored to death.Not a single interesting word would come out of his mouth, not even a boastful one, although anyone would boast a few when talking about his hobbies.Everyone has their own hobbies: some people like hounds, another person thinks he is a bosom friend of music, and can appreciate all the subtleties in music; the third person is a gourmet; The role, even if it is only a little higher than the current one; the wish of the fifth person is relatively small, dreaming all day long that he can be with a high-ranking official such as an imperial aide, military officer, etc., just so that his friends, acquaintances and even strangers meet , to share the glory; the sixth person is born with such hands, and can't help but want to bet on the diamond ace or the small two; and the seventh person's hand, no matter where it is, always stretches out to mobilize the order , especially when love falls on the face of the postmaster or the coachman—in short, everyone has their own uniqueness, with the exception of Manilov, who has no hobbies.He seldom speaks at home, and spends most of his time thinking alone. As for what he thinks, only God knows.He doesn't manage the family's property, and he never even takes a car to visit the field, leaving the crops there to be arranged by God.Sometimes the steward would say to him, "Maybe that would be better, sir." He would always reply, smoking his pipe, "Yeah, that's a good idea." At that time, he was recognized as one of the most modest, elegant, and well-educated officers, "Yes, this is indeed a good idea!" He would often repeat this to the steward.If a farmer came to him, scratched the back of his head and said, "Sir, let me go out and find some work, and earn some money to pay the poll tax." He usually smoked his pipe and said, "Go!" He wouldn't even think about taking the opportunity to drink or something.Sometimes he would stand on the steps in front of the door and look at the yard and pond, saying to himself that if he suddenly dug a tunnel out of the house, or built a stone bridge over the pond and built some shops beside the bridge, It would be great to sell the general merchandise needed by the farmers to the merchants.At this moment, his eyes will become very soft, and his face will be full of contentment; of course, these are just occasional longings.There is a book on his desk with a bookmark on page No. 1. It has been two years since he read this page, but he still reads it often.His house was always short of things: the sofa set in the living room was very beautiful, covered with exquisite brocade, which was not cheap; but when it came time to wrap the two armchairs, there was not enough brocade, so we had Cover the two armchairs with mats; in this way, every time he has guests for several years, he has to remind the guests: "Don't sit in these two armchairs, they haven't been packed yet." There is not even furniture in the room, although when he first got married, he said: "Baby, I will put some furniture in this room tomorrow and tidy it up, even if it is temporary." There was a very elegant antique bronze candlestick, inlaid with the statues of the three Greek goddesses, and a mother-of-pearl candle holder; while another candlestick beside it was made of brass, and a leg was missing. Crooked, like a disabled person covered with candle tears, but for the patient at hand, no matter whether it is the master or the hostess, or even the servant, it seems that they can turn a blind eye.His wife... In fact, the husband and wife are satisfied with each other, and they agree with each other.Although the marriage has entered the eighth year, they still often put a piece of candy, a piece of apple or a hazelnut into each other's mouth, and at the same time say in a very affectionate and moving tone: "Baby, please open your little mouth." , let me put this good thing in your mouth." Needless to say, the other party will open her mouth charmingly.Every birthday, they also prepare surprises for each other: things like small boxes of toothpicks threaded with small glass beads.A common situation is that the two sit silently on the couch. For some unknown reason, the host will suddenly put down the pipe, and the hostess will also put down the needlework in her hands, and kiss without warning. The kiss is so intoxicating and lingering. , long enough to smoke a small cigar.All in all, they are a happy couple.Of course, we need to explain that there is much more to be done at home than long kisses and gift-giving, and problems to be found.Like, why is the food always so bad at home?Why is there always not enough food in the barn?Why does the housekeeper always have dirty hands and feet?Why are the servants always drunk and dirty?Why do servants always sleep lazily and wander around when they wake up?But these were domestic matters, and the well-educated Mrs. Manilov disdained them.It is well known that a good education is received in aristocratic girls' boarding schools.And everyone knows that in the boarding schools for noble girls, three main subjects constitute a person's excellent qualifications: one is French, which is indispensable for a happy family life; Other little things for a surprise gift.However, at present, there are often various improvements and changes in teaching; this is probably based on the principal's knowledge and ability.There are aristocratic women's boarding schools that may start with piano, then French, and finally housekeeping.Sometimes possible: first the housemaid weaving gifts, then the French, and finally the piano.Let me point out one more point here: Mrs. Manilov... But I confess that I dare not talk about the ladies, and now it is time to return to our two heroes, who are already standing in the drawing room. It's been several minutes at the door, just for each other to let each other enter the room.Chichikov said: "Don't bother me so much, please do me a favor and let me follow behind."

"No, Pavel Ivanovitch, no, you are a guest," said Manilov, pointing to the door.

"You're welcome, please go first, please, please go first," Chichikov said.

"That is impossible, pardon me, I must not allow such an admirable guest as you to go behind."

"I don't dare to be admirable... Please, please first."

"Hey, please go first."

"How dare you do that?"

"It's as it should be!" Manilov said with a humble smile.

At last the two friends leaned sideways, squeezed each other a little, and went through the door together. "Allow me to introduce my wife," said Manilov. "My dear, this is Pavel Ivanovitch!"

Just now Chichikov was so absorbed in making room with Manilov at the door that he completely ignored Mrs. Manilov in the room.Mrs. Manilov was good-looking and well-dressed in a well-fitting gown of light-colored silk; her slender hands hastily put down something, grabbed a handkerchief embroidered with four corners on the table, and got up from the sofa.Chichikov went and kissed her little hand with some joy.Madame Manilov said pleasantly to them that his presence pleased them, and not a day passed without her husband not mentioning him to her.Mrs. Manilov bit her tongue a little and couldn't pronounce some sounds clearly.At this point Manilov interjected: "Yes, she always asks me, 'Why isn't your friend here yet?' I say, 'Just wait, baby, he will come.' Now You are finally here. Your arrival really brings us great joy, like the spring of May, a grand ceremony for the soul..."

Chichikov felt a little shy when he heard that his host had already mentioned the grand ceremony, so he humbly said that he was neither a high-ranking official nor a famous person. "You have everything," Manilov broke in, still smiling, "you have everything, and even more."

"What is your impression of our city?" asked Mrs. Manilov. "Have you enjoyed your stay here?"

"It's a very nice city, a wonderful city," Chichikov said. "I had a great time here: the people are very nice."

"What do you think of the governor of our province?" asked Mrs. Manilov. "He is a very amiable and respectable person. What do you think?" Manilov asked again.

"Exactly," said Chichikov, "very respectable. And how conscientious he is, and how well he understands the burden upon him! I wish there were more of them."

"Do you know how honest he is in dealing with people and how polite he is to everyone?" Manilov said with a smile again, his eyes were all squinted, like a dog being gently scratched cat with ears.

"A very modest and kind man, very pleasant," went on Chichikov, "and with ingenuity! I never thought of it. He made so many splendid embroidery designs. He showed me some of them." A purse of mine: there are very few ladies who can embroider that work."

"The deputy governor is a lovely man too, isn't he?" Manilov asked, his eyes narrowing again.

"A very, very lovely man," Chichikov replied.

"What do you think of the Chief Constable? He's a very pleasant fellow, isn't he?"

"It's really pleasant, and such a learned and clever man! I played cards with the Attorney General and the Director of Civil Affairs at his house all night until the cock crowed three times. He is really a very pleasant man. Happy people!"

"Well, what do you think of the Director's wife?" Madame Manilov went on. "A very nice lady, isn't she?"

"Among the lovely ladies I have ever known, she is indeed one of the most amiable women," Chichikov replied.Then came the Director of Civil Affairs and the Postmaster. They almost commented on the officials and wives in the city, and they were all the most respectable people.

"Have you always lived an idyllic life in the country?"

At last it was Chichikov's turn to ask questions. "Mostly stay in the country," answered Manilov, "but sometimes go to the city and meet nice people. You know, people get rough if you stay in the country all the time."

"Yes, yes," said Chichikov.

"Of course," continued Manilov, "it's a different story if there's a good neighbor around, for example, if there's someone with whom we can chat about manners, discuss a kind of learning, talk about self-cultivation. , to open the closed heart, so as to shake the soul..." When he wanted to expand a few more sentences, he found that he had gone a little off topic, so he raised his hand and gestured, and then said, "Then living in the country will still have A lot of fun. But there are no such people who live next to each other... so you have to read "Son of the Fatherland" now and then."

Chichikov fully agreed with this, and added that the greatest pleasure in the world is to live alone in the country, to enjoy the beauty of nature, and to read a book ... "But you know," continued Manilov Say, "If you don't have a friend to share with..."

"Oh, you're right, absolutely right!" Chichikov interrupted him, "what's the point of accumulating wealth like that! A sage once said: 'Money is not necessary, but friends are necessary'. "

"Pavel Ivanovich, you know," said Manilov, and his face was no longer mild and sweet, but tired, like a shrewd doctor who treats nobles To please the patient, like a potion mixed with sugar desperately, "a certain spiritual feeling can only be obtained when communicating with friends... Just like now, a lucky opportunity brings me happiness and joy, this happiness Just to talk with you, listen to your grand lectures, and enjoy..."

"Don't dare to be, it's because you don't dare to be, how can you say it's a grand theory? I'm just an insignificant person." Chichikov replied.

"Hey, Pavel Ivanovich, forgive me for saying this from the bottom of my heart: I would give half my fortune for a part of your virtue!"

"It's not like that for me, I think the most important thing about me is..."

If the servant had not come in to say that the meal was ready, no one could tell how long the two friends would have been confiding in each other's courtesies.

"Thank you for your honor," said Manilov, "forgive me, but we don't have those famous dishes in the banquets in the capital here; we can only entertain guests with vegetables and radishes according to the old Russian habit, but we have some sincere My heart. Please honor me."

At this time, they made some concessions about who should enter the restaurant, and finally Chichikov entered the restaurant first.There were already two boys standing in the dining room. They were the sons of Manilov. Although they were old enough to sit at the table, they still needed to sit on high chairs.Beside them stood the governess, who smiled and bowed politely as the visitor entered.The hostess sits in front of her soup basin, and the guests are placed between the host and hostess, and the servant wraps napkins around the two children.

"What lovely children," said Chichikov, looking at the two children. "How old are they?"

"The older one is eight years old, and the younger one just turned six yesterday," said Mrs. Manilov.

(End of this chapter)