dead souls, imperial envoy

Chapter 4 Dead Souls (4)
"Fermystoclius!" Manilov shouted to his eldest son.At this time, the eldest son, whose chin was wrapped in a napkin by the servant, was pulling his chin out.Chichikov frowned slightly when he heard the name of the ancient Greek commander (the name originally ended in "Leus", but Manilov changed it to "Leus" in Latin), but he recovered immediately. the norm.

"Phermistoclius, please tell me, which city in France is the best?"

At this time, the governess who was staring at Fermistoclius anxiously expected him to see him, and did not feel relieved until he heard Fermistoclius say "Paris".

"Which city is the best in our country?" Manilov asked another question.

The teacher became nervous again.

Phemistoclius replied: "Petersburg."

"Which other city?"

"Moscow."

"What a clever boy!" said Chichikov, "it's amazing..." At this moment, he looked at the Manilovs with a surprised expression and said, "Your son is so old and knowledgeable. In my opinion, this kid must have a bright future."

"You haven't gotten to know him in detail yet!" said Manilov. "He's still very intelligent. The little one, Archid, is far from him. The big one sees a beetle or something, and both His little eyes rolled up immediately, so he must be studied in detail. I think he will excel in diplomacy in the future. Phermistoclius! Do you want to be an envoy?"

"I think so." Phemistocrius looked around and chewed the bread in his mouth.At this time, the servant behind him promptly wiped the minister's nose, preventing a considerable amount of snot from falling into the soup bowl.The interesting conversations about country life were interrupted by the hostess' remarks about the theaters and actors in the city.The governess watched intently the expressions on the faces of the guests and hosts, and when they saw that they were about to laugh, she opened her mouth first and sincerely accompanied the smile.It can be seen that he is a person who knows how to repay his kindness, and he wants to repay his master's invitation in this way.There was only one time when his face was very serious, and he stared at the two children opposite him, and knocked hard on the table with his fork, because Archide was about to close his eyes after being bitten by Phemistoclus on the ear He opened his mouth and cried loudly to witness his pain, probably because he thought that he would be deprived of the right to eat vegetables, so he closed his mouth again and gnawed on the sheep bone with tears in his eyes, until his cheeks became oily.The hostess kept saying to Chichikov: "You eat too little, you should eat well, please taste the country dishes." Chichikov replied every time: "Thank you very much, I have eaten, and good conversation is better than any good meal."

Everyone finally left the table, and Manilov, satisfied with the meal, put his hand on the guest's back and was about to invite him back to the living room, when the guest suddenly said seriously that he wanted to talk to him an important thing.

"In that case, please go to my study." Manilov led the guest to a small room with the gray forest outside the window. "This is my simple study." Manilov introduced.

"This study is very elegant." Chichikov said after admiring the room.

This study is indeed a pleasant place to stop: the surrounding walls are painted in light blue that is almost gray; there are four chairs in the room, an armchair, a table, and a bookmark that we already know on the table. Books, a few pieces of paper with writing on them, but most of them are tobacco.Tobacco is piled up everywhere: some in paper bags, some in cigarette cases, and some simply piled on the table.The two window sills were full of ashes knocked out of the pipes, and the ash was arranged very beautifully, obviously piled up with care.It can be seen that they have made no small contribution to the time spent by the owner.

"Please do me the favor of taking this armchair," said Manilov, "it is more comfortable."

"Just let me sit in the chair."

"Don't be humble," Manilov said with a smile, "This is an armchair I specially prepared for guests. Whether you like it or not, I must invite you to sit here."

Chichikov had to sit down.

"Let me offer you a bag of cigarettes."

"No, I don't smoke," Chichikov replied kindly, with a rather regretful look.

"Why?" Manilov also asked kindly, with some surprise in his expression.

"I'm afraid it's not a habit. Smoking is said to make you old."

"With all due respect, this is pure prejudice. I think pipe smoking is healthier than snuff. The lieutenant in our regiment was one of the most educated gentlemen, and he couldn't do without his pipe, not only with his meals. , and, to put it mildly, he smokes everywhere. Now that he's in his 40s, God forbid, he's still as fit as he is unspeakably fit."

Chichikov said that there are such things, and there are many things that even learned scholars cannot explain.

"However, please allow me to ask a question first..." There was a strange voice in his voice, or a strange voice, and he looked back for some reason when he spoke.Manilov also looked back for some reason. "Excuse me, when was the last time you registered as a serf?"

"It's been a long time, or rather, I've forgotten."

"Did many of your serfs die after registration?"

"I have to ask the housekeeper. Hey, come on, call the housekeeper. He should be here today."

Not long after, the butler came.In his forties, he was clean-shaven and wore a short double-breasted dress. He seemed to be living a leisurely life. His face was a bit puffy, and his small eyes and yellow complexion showed that he was very familiar. Down bedding.We can easily see that he has the same growth history as all housekeepers: a poorly literate servant in the master's family, married his wife's confidant girl in charge of the warehouse, took over the warehouse, and then became a housekeeper.After becoming a housekeeper, needless to say, he has all the airs of a housekeeper: he sleeps until after nine o'clock in the morning, waits for the samovar to be fired, and then gets up to drink tea.Make friends with the richer families in the village, and leave the labor to the poorer families.

"Hey, buddy! How many serfs have died here since the last serf registration?"

"How many died? After registration, quite a few died." The butler hiccupped and quickly covered his mouth with his hand like a shield.

"Yes, to tell you the truth, I think so too," Manilov said after taking the steward's words. , the number is not small."

"For example, what is the exact number?" asked Chichikov.

"Yes, how much is it?" Manilov also asked.

"How to say the exact number? No one knows how many died, no one has ever counted."

"Yes, it is true," Manilov said to Chichikov, "I also think the death rate is high, but no one has the exact number of deaths."

"Could you please make a statistics," said Chichikov, "it would be better to have a detailed list."

"Yes, go and make a detailed list," said Manilov.

"Okay!" said the butler and left.

"What do you need this list for?" Manilov asked.

The guest felt very embarrassed about this question. His expression became tense, and his face even flushed. It seemed that he had something to hide. In fact, Manilov finally heard something strange that he had never heard of before. things.

"You ask what is the use of this, because I... I want to buy some serfs..." Chichikov stopped stuttering at this point.

"But," Manilov asked, "how do you want to buy it? Do you want to buy it with people and land, or only through transfer, that is, without land?"

"No, I don't want to buy full-fledged serfs," said Chichikov, "I want to buy... dead..."

"What? I'm sorry... I'm a little deaf, I seem to hear a very strange word..."

"I'm going to buy some dead serfs, but alive on the register."

Manilov was so frightened that he dropped the pipe to the ground, and stood there for a few minutes with his mouth wide open.These two friends, who were still talking about their reunion just now, are looking at each other motionlessly, like two portraits facing each other on both sides of the mirror frame in ancient times.At last Manilov, while stooping to pick up his pipe, looked up at his visitor's face, trying to find a smile on the corner of his mouth, to see if he was joking, but there was nothing of the sort, the face On the contrary, his expression became more serious.Manilov wondered if the guest's mind had suddenly lost his mind, so he observed carefully again, but the guest's eyes were peaceful and gloomy, without the ferocious and wild light of a madman. It's normal.As for what attitude and how to answer, Manilov couldn't think of a way for a while, so he could only slowly exhale the remaining smoke in his mouth.

"So, I want to know if you can hand over, transfer, or sell to me these serfs who are not actually alive but are legally regarded as alive?"

Manilov was too shocked to speak, he just stared blankly at the guest.

"It seems to me that you are perplexed?" said Chichikov.

"Me? ... No, no," said Manilov, "I still don't understand ... I'm sorry, but of course I don't have a higher education like yours, and that excellent education is reflected in your words and deeds." I can express it; I don't know much about words... Maybe here... in what you just said... there is another meaning... Maybe you said it because of the beauty of the words?"

"No," went on Chichikov, "no, that's what I said, that is, the serfs who were actually dead."

Manilov was completely bewildered.He felt that he should say something, that he should ask a question, but what question—and it turned out that he only puffed another puff of smoke, only this time not from his mouth but from his nostrils.

"Well, if there is no obstacle, then, God help us, let's make a contract," said Chichikov.

"What, a contract for buying and selling dead souls?"

"Oh, no!" said Chichikov, "we're going to treat them like living serfs, as registered on the serf register. Frustrated, but helpless: for me, fulfilling my duty is a sacred thing; facing the law—before the law I can only obey.”

Manilov was a little relieved by the last sentence, but he still didn't understand the meaning of the transaction. He could only continue to remain silent, and he puffed on his pipe vigorously. The pipe made a sound, as if he was about to say if.He seemed to be planning to find a way to deal with the situation in front of him from the pipe, but although the pipe was smoking, he couldn't draw a word.

"Perhaps you have any worries?"

"Alas! How could it be, I believe you. I am not saying that I have any fear for you. But let me venture to ask that such a thing, or rather such a transaction, would not be contrary to Russian civil law and The next regulations, right?"

After asking, Manilov shook his head and looked at Chichikov's face meaningfully. An expression of deep thinking was revealed from his brows and tightly closed lips. This expression is common to ordinary people. You can't see it on your face, maybe you can only see it on the face of a shrewd minister, and when he is planning and planning.

Chichikov, however, insisted that such a sale or transaction was in no way contrary to Russian civil and other laws.A little later he added that even the treasury would benefit from a statutory deed.

"Do you think so?"

"I think it's a good thing."

"Since it's a good thing, let's talk about it. How can I have any objection." Manilov felt relieved.

"Now all that's left is to negotiate the price..."

"Why, bargain?" Manilov paused, "how do you think that I want your money for those serfs who do not exist in a certain sense? Since you have such a—how should I say it?" ——A strange idea, then I will present these serfs to you, how can I ask for money, and the deed tax will be borne by me."

The historian who records the event is to blame for ignoring the excitement of his guests at hearing Manilov's words.In spite of Chichikov's prudence, he almost jumped up at these words like a goat, as people do in moments of ecstasy.But he couldn't help but twisted his body vigorously on the armchair, tearing the upholstery of the chair seat.Manilov was somewhat baffled by the excitement of the guests.In order to express his gratitude, Chichikov thanked him loudly again and again, which made Manilov feel quite embarrassed. He blushed and shook his head. In the end, he had to say that this matter was not worth mentioning at all. He just wanted to take the opportunity to express his gratitude. Admiration, after all, in a sense, dead serfs are completely waste.

"It's not trash," Chichikov said, squeezing his hand.Said, also sighed deeply.It seems that he is ready to pour out his heart to the other party.He finally stopped being emotionless and said the following words: "If only you knew how useful these seemingly useless wastes are to a person from a humble background! To be honest, I have never suffered What? I am like a small boat in the wind and waves... What kind of squeeze, what kind of persecution, I have not experienced? What kind of pain, I have not tried? What is it all for? Because my heart Kindness, I uphold the truth, I miss the helpless widows and orphans without friends!..." At this point, he wiped his tears with a handkerchief.

Manilov was completely moved, and the two friends shook hands for a long time, silently looking into each other's tearful eyes.Manilov does not at all want to let go of our hero's hand, he holds it so long and passionately that our hero does not know how to pull it out.In the end, our protagonist said that he had to go to the city to complete the contract procedures as soon as possible, and hoped that it would be best for him to go to the city himself. After speaking, he finally found a reason to gently pull his hand back to get his The hat bid farewell to its master.

"What? Are you leaving at this time?" Manilov suddenly came to his senses at this moment, and asked in surprise.

Just at that moment Madame Manilov entered the study. "Lizanka," Manilov said with some regret, "Pavel Ivanovich is leaving us!"

"Because we bore Pavel Ivanovitch," asked Madame Manilov.

"Madame! Of course not," Chichikov said. "Here, in the heart, here," he said, putting his hand on his heart, "here will forever be preserved the good memory of being together with the virtuous couple. Believe me, there is nothing better than being with the two of you. Since I can’t live in the same house, being close neighbors is the best happiness in life for me.”

"Pavel Ivanovich," said Manilov, agreeing with Chichikov, "if we could live together under one roof or philosophize and discuss each other's problems under an elm tree, then What a wonderful thing! . . . "

"Yes! That would really be a heavenly life!" sighed Chichikov, "Madame! Good-bye!" As he said, he went over and kissed Mrs. Manilov's hand. "Good-bye, dear friend! Don't forget my promise to you!"

"Oh! Don't worry!" Manilov replied, "I shall see you in two days at most."

They walked into the restaurant together. "Good-bye, darlings!" Chichikov said to the children, seeing Archide and Phemistoclus playing with a toy wooden cavalryman with an arm missing and a nose missing. up. "Goodbye, my little ones! Please forgive me for not bringing you gifts. To be honest, I didn't even know there were elves like you in this world before I came here. I will definitely bring you some gifts next time." .I'll bring you a saber, would you like a saber?"

"Want to," said Phemistoclus.

"Bring you a drum. How about a drum? Do you like it?" he said, bending over Archid.

"I want to cry (drum)." Archid lowered his head and muttered inarticulately.

"Okay, I'll bring you a drum, a really nice drum!... boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom times away." And then he kissed Al. Kidder's head turned and he smiled at the Manilovs. Usually, this smile was to show the parents how innocent their children's requests were.

"Really, Pavel Ivanovitch, stay!" said Manilov, when the host and guest had walked out on the steps together. "Look at the dark clouds that day."

"Dark clouds are no big deal," Chichikov said.

"Do you know the way to Sobakevich's house?"

"I was going to ask you for advice."

"Wait, I'll tell your coachman."

Manilov spoke the way to the coachman, also in the same polite tone, and even said "you" once.

When the coachman heard that he had to cross two crossroads and turned again at the third crossroad, he said: "Understood, sir, I will follow your instructions." In this way, Chichikov took his leave. After getting into the carriage, when I turned around, I could still see the owner and his wife bowing reluctantly and waving handkerchiefs on tiptoe.

(End of this chapter)