Oblomov - Ivan Goncharov [201]
Ivan Matveyevich threw his enigmatic glance at Oblomov and was silent.
‘I expect, sir, you did nothing but read books,’ he observed with the same obsequious smile.
‘Books!’ Oblomov retorted bitterly and stopped short.
He had not enough courage to bare his soul before a low-grade civil servant, and, besides, there was no need for him to do so.
‘I haven’t the faintest idea of books, either,’ he thought uneasily, but he would not bring himself to utter the words and merely sighed mournfully.
‘But you did do something, sir, didn’t you?’ Ivan Matveyevich added humbly, as though divining Oblomov’s answer about the books. ‘It’s impossible not to – –’
‘It is possible, sir, and I am the living proof of it. Who am I? What am I? Go and ask Zakhar, and he will tell you that I am a “gentleman”. Yes, I am a gentleman and I can’t do anything! Please do it for me, if you know how, and help me, if you can. Take anything you like for your trouble – that is what knowledge is for!’
He began pacing the room, while Ivan Matveyevich remained standing where he was, slightly turning his body in Oblomov’s direction. Both of them were silent for some time.
‘Where have you been educated?’ asked Oblomov, stopping before him once more.
‘I went to a secondary school, but my father took me away from the fifth form and got me a job in a Government office. I’m afraid my education doesn’t amount to much. Reading, writing, grammar, arithmetic – I did not go beyond that. I got used to my work – more or less, and I am just managing to make ends meet. But your case is different, sir. You’re a really educated man.’
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Oblomov affirmed with a sigh. ‘It’s true I’ve studied higher mathematics, political economy, and law, but I haven’t got the knack for business in spite of it. You see, though I have studied higher mathematics, I can’t tell what my income amounts to. I returned to the country and did my best to find out how things were done there, I mean, in our house, on our estate, and all around. Well, it was not at all according to the laws I had learnt. I came here, thinking to make a career with the help of political economy. I was told, however, that my learning would come in useful in time, in my old age, perhaps, but that first I had to obtain a high rank in the Civil Service and to do that only one thing was needed – drawing up documents. So I just could not adapt myself to that kind of work and I became simply a gentleman, whereas you did adapt yourself. That’s why I want you to tell me how to solve my problem.’
‘I daresay I could, sir,’ said Ivan Matveyevich at last. ‘I daresay I could.’
Oblomov stopped before him, waiting to hear what he would say.
‘You could entrust it all to an expert and transfer the deed of trust to him,’ added Ivan Matveyevich.
‘But where am I to find such a man?’ asked Oblomov.
‘A colleague of mine, Isay Fomich Zatyorty, who has a slight stammer, is such an experienced and business-like man. He was the manager of a big estate for three years, but the owner dismissed him because of his stammer. So he got a job at my office.’
‘But can he be relied on?’
‘Don’t worry, he is as honest as they make ’em! He’d spend his own money to please the man who trusted him. He’s been in our office for twelve years.’
‘How could he go to the country, if he has to be at your office?’
‘That’s nothing. He could get leave for four months. If you make up your mind, I’ll bring him here. He wouldn’t go there for nothing, would he?’
‘Of course not,’ Oblomov agreed.
‘You’ll pay his travelling expenses and so much per day for his living allowance and then, when his work is done, a certain sum by arrangement. Don’t worry, he’ll go!’
‘Thank you very much,’ said Oblomov, holding out his hand. ‘You’ve lifted a load off my mind. What is his name?’
‘Isay Fomich Zatyorty,’ Ivan Matveyevich repeated, hurriedly wiping his hand on the cuff of his other sleeve, taking Oblomov’s hand for a moment and immediately hiding it in his sleeve again. ‘I’ll have