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By Root 2329 0

Zakhar himself suggested calling in Anisya as soon as Oblomov began using ‘pathetic words’. But for Anisya, therefore, everything in Oblomov’s rooms would have fallen into neglect again; she had already attached herself to Oblomov’s household and quite unconsciously shared her husband’s unshakeable connexion with Oblomov’s house, life, and person; her woman’s eyes kept careful watch over the neglected rooms. Zakhar had only to go out for a moment for Anisya to dust the tables and sofas, open a window, set the blinds right, put away the boots left in the middle of the room and the trousers thrown over an arm-chair, carefully examine all the clothes and even the papers, pencils, penknife, and pens on the table – and put it all in order; beat up the crumpled pillows and remake the bed – and all in no time at all; then she glanced round the room, moved a chair, closed a half-open drawer, took a napkin off the table, and quickly slipped into the kitchen the moment she heard Zakhar’s squeaking boots. She was a quick and lively woman of about forty-seven with a solicitous smile, eyes that never missed anything, a strong neck and chest, and a pair of red, tenacious, untiring hands. She had hardly any face at all; the nose was the only thing that stood out on it; though small, it did not seem to belong to it at all or to have been clumsily attached, and, besides, the end of it was turned up, which made the rest of the face unnoticeable: it was so drawn and faded that one gained a clear impression of the nose long before noticing the rest of her face.

There are many husbands like Zakhar in the world. A diplomat will sometimes listen carelessly to his wife’s advice, shrug, and – secretly write as she has advised him. A high official will whistle contemptuously while listening to his wife’s chatter about some important affair of state and reply to her with a pitying grimace – and the next day he will solemnly repeat her chatter to the Minister. These gentlemen treat their wives as grimly or as lightly as Zakhar and barely vouchsafe to speak to them, regarding them, if not, like Zakhar, as silly women, then as a delightful relaxation from serious business affairs.

The bright noonday sun had long been burning the paths of the park. Everyone was sitting in the shade of the canvas awnings; only nursemaids and children walked about boldly in groups or sat on the grass in the noonday sun. Oblomov still lay on the sofa, believing and disbelieving the meaning of his conversation with Olga that morning. ‘She loves me, she has set her affections on me. Is it possible? She dreams of me; it was for me she sang so passionately, and the music awakened the same feelings in us for one another.’ His pride was aroused, life shone brightly, its magic vistas opened before him, it was all aglow with light and colour, as it had not been so recently. He already saw himself travelling abroad with her, in Switzerland, on the lakes, in Italy, walking among the ruins in Rome, sailing in a gondola, then lost in a crowd in Paris and London, then – then in his earthly paradise, Oblomovka. She was divine with that charming prattle of hers, her exquisite, fair-skinned face, her lovely, slender neck.… The peasants had never seen anything like her and they prostrated themselves before this angel. She was treading so softly on the grass; she walked with him in the shade of the young birch-trees; she sang to him.… And he became conscious of life, of its gentle flow, of the splashing of its sweet stream – he sank into thought, his desires satisfied, his happiness full to overflowing.… Suddenly his face clouded over.

‘No,’ he cried aloud, getting up from the sofa and pacing the room. ‘This cannot be! To love a ridiculous fellow like me, with sleepy eyes and flabby cheeks.… She is just laughing at me.…’

He stopped before the looking-glass and examined himself for a long time, first disapprovingly, then his eyes suddenly cleared; he even smiled.

‘I seem to look better, fresher than I did in town,’ he said. ‘My eyes are not dull – I was starting a stye, but