Oblomov - Ivan Goncharov [268]
‘Where are you going so soon?’ she asked, not letting them in.
‘It isn’t soon at all I We’ve walked twenty times up and down the path, and there’s about one hundred and thirty yards from here to the fence, so we must have done well over a mile.’
‘How many times have you walked?’ she asked Vanya, who seemed to hesitate with his reply. ‘Don’t you dare lie to me!’ she cried menacingly, looking into his eyes. ‘I can tell at once. Remember Sunday; I won’t let you go out.’
‘Really, Mummy, we did walk – about twelve times!’
‘Oh, you rascal,’ said Oblomov; ‘you kept tearing off the acacia leaves, but I counted every time…’
‘No, you’d better walk a little longer,’ Agafya Matveyevna decided. ‘The fish soup isn’t ready yet, anyway,’ and she slammed the door in their faces.
Oblomov had willy-nilly to count another eight times, and only then went in.
There he found the fish soup steaming on the big round table. Oblomov sat down in his usual place, alone on the sofa; to the right of him sat Agafya Matveyevna on a chair, to the left a child of about three on a small baby chair with a safety-catch. Masha, a girl of about thirteen by now, sat next to the child, then Vanya, and, finally, on that particular day, Alexeyev, who sat facing Oblomov.
‘Let me give you another helping of fish: I’ve found such a fat one!’ said Agafya Matveyevna, putting the fish on Oblomov’s plate.
‘A bit of pie would go down well with this,’ said Oblomov.
‘Dear me, I forgot all about it! I thought of it last night, but it went clean out of my mind! ‘Agafya Matveyevna said craftily. ‘And I’m afraid I forgot to cook some cabbage for your cutlets, Ivan Alexeyevich,’ she added, turning to Alexeyev. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
That, too, was just a trick.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Alexeyev; ‘I can eat anything.’
‘Why don’t you have some ham with green peas or a beefsteak cooked for him?’ asked Oblomov. ‘He likes it.’
‘I went to the shops myself, Ilya Ilyich, but I couldn’t find any good beef. I had some cherry-juice jelly made for you, though,’ she said, turning to Alexeyev; ‘I know you like it.’
Fruit jelly could do no harm to Oblomov, and that was why Alexeyev, who was always ready to oblige, had to eat it and like it.
After dinner nothing and no one could prevent Oblomov from lying down. He usually lay down on the sofa in the dining-room, but only to rest for an hour. To make sure that he did not fall asleep, Agafya Matveyevna poured out coffee sitting on the sofa beside him, the children played on the carpet, and Oblomov had willy-nilly to take part in it.
‘Don’t tease Andrey,’ he scolded Vanya, who had been teasing the little boy. ‘He’s going to cry any minute.’
‘Masha, my dear, mind Andrey doesn’t knock himself against the chair,’ he warned solicitously, when the child crawled under a chair.
And Masha rushed to rescue her ‘little brother’, as she called him.
All was quiet for a moment while Agafya Matveyevna went to the kitchen to see if the coffee was ready. The children grew quiet. A sound of snoring was heard in the room, first gentle and as though on the sly, then louder, and when Agafya Matveyevna appeared with a steaming coffee-pot, she was met by a snoring as loud as in a coachman’s shelter. She shook her head reproachfully at Alexeyev.
‘I tried to wake him, but he paid no attention,’ Alexeyev said in self-defence.
She quickly put the coffee-pot on the table, seized Andrey from the floor, and put him quietly on the sofa beside Oblomov. The child crawled up to him, reached his face, and grabbed him by the nose.
‘What is it? Who’s this? Eh?’ Oblomov cried in alarm, waking up.
‘You dozed off and little Andrey climbed on the sofa and wakened you,’ Agafya Matveyevna said affectionately.
‘I never dozed off,’ Oblomov protested, taking the little boy in his arms. ‘Do you think I did not hear him crawling up to me on his little arms? I hear everything. Oh, you naughty boy! So you’ve caught me by the nose, have you? I’ll give you such a hiding! You just wait!’ he said,