Oblomov - Ivan Goncharov [271]
‘Oh, I can’t possibly do that!’ Oblomov interrupted. ‘Listen, Andrey,’ he added suddenly in a determined tone Stolz had never heard him use before; ‘don’t waste your time trying to persuade me: I shall stay here!’
Stolz looked at his friend in surprise. Oblomov met his look calmly and resolutely.
‘You’re done for, Ilya!’ he said. ‘This house, this woman – the whole of this way of living…. It’s impossible! Come on, let’s go!’
He seized him by the sleeve and was dragging him towards the door.
‘Why do you want to take me away? Where to?’ said Oblomov, resisting him.
‘Out of this pit, this bog, into the light, into the open, to a normal life!’ Stolz insisted sternly, almost imperiously. ‘Where are you? What has become of you? Come to your senses! Is this the sort of life you have been preparing yourself for – to sleep like a mole in its burrow? You’d better cast your mind back!…’
‘Don’t remind me, don’t disturb the past, for you will never bring it back,’ Oblomov said, looking fully aware of what he was saying and determined to do as he thought fit. ‘What do you want to do with me? I’ve broken completely with the world into which you are dragging me: you cannot weld together two halves that have come apart. I am attached to this hole with the most vulnerable part of my body – if you try to drag me away, I shall die!’
‘But for goodness’ sake, man, have a good look round where you are and in what company!’
‘I know, I am aware of it…. Oh, Andrey, I am aware of everything and I understand everything: I have for a long time been ashamed to live in the world! But I can’t go on the same road as you even if I wanted to. Last time you were here it might perhaps have been possible, but now’ – he dropped his eyes and paused for a moment – ‘now it is too late. You go and don’t wait for me. I am worthy of your friendship, God knows, but I’m not worth your trouble.’
‘No, Ilya, you’re hiding something from me. I tell you I’m determined to take you away just because I suspect you. Listen,’ he said; ‘put on some clothes and let’s go to my place. Spend an evening with me. I’ve got lots to tell you: you don’t know the exciting things that are happening in our part of the country now. You have not heard, have you?’
Oblomov looked questioningly at him.
‘I forgot, you never see people: come along, I’ll tell you everything. Do you know who is waiting for me in the carriage at the gate? I’ll call her!’
‘Olga!’ Oblomov suddenly cried in alarm, and he even turned pale. ‘For God’s sake, don’t let her come in here. Please, go away. Good-bye, good-bye, for God’s sake!’
He was almost pushing Stolz out of the room; but Stolz did not move from his place.
‘I can’t go to her without you. I gave her my word – do you hear, Ilya? If not to-day, then to-morrow – you will only put it off, you won’t drive me away…. To-morrow or the day after – but we shall meet again!’
Oblomov was silent, bowing his head and not daring to look at Stolz.
‘When is it to be? Olga is sure to ask me.’
‘Oh, Andrey,’ he said in a tender, beseeching voice, embracing him and putting his head on Stolz’s shoulder, ‘please leave me altogether – forget me – –’
‘What, for ever?’ Stolz asked in amazement, freeing himself from Oblomov’s embrace and looking into his face.
‘Yes,’ whispered Oblomov.
Stolz stepped back from him.
‘Is it you, Ilya?’ he said reproachfully. ‘You are pushing me away, and for her – for that woman! Good Lord,’ he almost cried out, as though with sudden pain; ‘this child I saw here just now – Ilya, Ilya! Run – run from here! Let’s go this minute! How you have fallen! That woman – what is she to you?’
‘She’s my wife,’ Oblomov said calmly.
Stolz was dumbfounded.
‘And that child is my son! His name is Andrey, I called him after you!’ Oblomov concluded his confession and breathed freely, having thrown off the burden of his secret.
It was now Stolz’s turn to change colour. He looked round with bewildered almost senseless eyes. The ‘gulf’ suddenly ‘opened up’ before him and the ‘stone wall’ rose up and