Oblomov - Ivan Goncharov [200]
‘Yes, but he has gone to bed.’
‘Will you please ask him to come in to see me to-morrow,’ asked Oblomov. ‘I should like to see him.’
9
THE landlady’s brother came into the room in the same way as before, sat down on a chair, carefully hid his hands in his sleeves, and waited for what Oblomov had to say.
‘I have received a very unpleasant letter from the country in reply to the deed of trust I sent – you remember, don’t you?’ said Oblomov. ‘Will you read it, please?’
Ivan Matveyevich took the letter from the country, his eyes running quickly along the lines, while his hands trembled slightly. Having read it, he put the letter on the table and his hands behind his back.
‘What do you think I ought to do now?’ asked Oblomov.
‘Your neighbour advises you to go there,’ said Ivan Matveyevich. ‘Well, sir, a thousand miles isn’t such a very long journey. In another week the roads will be fit for sleighing, so, I suppose, you’d better go.’
‘I dislike travelling intensely – I’m not used to it, you see, and I’d find it very difficult in winter in particular. I’d rather not go. Besides, it’s very boring to be in the country by yourself.’
‘Have you many peasants who pay you a tax?’ asked Ivan Matveyevich.
‘Well, I don’t really know. You see, it’s so long since I went to my estate.’
‘You ought to know that, sir. You couldn’t very well carry on without it, could you? For one thing, you could never find out what your income was.’
‘Yes, I ought to,’ Oblomov repeated, ‘and my neighbour, too, writes so, but unfortunately it’s winter….’
‘And how much does the tax bring in?’
‘The tax? I believe – er – I had a bit of paper here somewhere. Stolz drew it up for me, but I’m afraid I can’t find it. Zakhar must have put it away somewhere…. I’ll show you it later – I believe it’s thirty roubles per peasant.’
‘What sort of peasants have you got?’ Ivan Matveyevich asked. ‘How do they live? How many of them work for you?’
‘Look here,’ Oblomov said, walking up to him and taking him trustfully by the lapels of his uniform, ‘look here,’ he repeated slowly, almost in a whisper. ‘I don’t know anything about the peasants who have to work for me; I don’t know what agricultural labour is, or when a peasant is rich or poor; I don’t know what a quarter of rye or oats means, or what it costs in different months, or how and when corn is harvested and sold; I don’t know if I am rich or poor, if I shall have enough to eat in a year’s time or be a beggar – I don’t know anything!’ he concluded dejectedly, letting go the lapels of Ivan Matveyevich’s uniform, ‘and therefore I’d be glad if you would speak to me and advise me as you would a child….’
‘But, of course, sir, you ought to know, for if you don’t, you won’t be able to make head or tail of anything,’ Ivan Matveyevich said with an obsequious smile, getting up and putting one hand behind his back and the other inside his coat. ‘A landowner must know his estate and how to manage it,’ he said edifyingly.
‘But I don’t know. Teach me if you can.’
‘I’m afraid it isn’t a subject I’ve had much experience in, sir. I shall have to consult those who have. And here, sir,’ he went on, pointing with his middle finger, nail downwards, to the page of the letter, ‘they tell you in the letter to stand for election. That’s not such a bad idea, you know! You’d live there, serve as magistrate in the district court, and meanwhile learn all about farming.’
‘I don’t know what a district court is, what one is supposed to do there, and how one holds office there,’ Oblomov said emphatically, but in an undertone, walking right up to Ivan Matveyevich’s nose.
‘You’ll get used to it, sir. You’ve been a member of the Civil Service here, haven’t you? Well, the work is the same everywhere, though the forms may differ slightly. Everywhere there are instructions, memoranda, records…. Get a good clerk, and the rest will be easy. All you have to do is to sign your name. If you know how things are done in a Government office…’
‘I don’t know how things are done in a Government office,