Oblomov - Ivan Goncharov [276]
Zakhar fell silent suddenly, then, screening his eyes from the sun with a hand, he looked intently at Stolz.
‘I’m sorry, sir, I can’t recognize you at all, I’m afraid – I’m quite blind, sir.’
‘You haven’t forgotten Stolz, your master’s friend, have you?’ Stolz said reproachfully.
‘Why, Mr Stolz, sir! I must be as blind as a post, sir! I’m sorry, sir!’
He tried to catch Stolz’s hand, and in his excitement missed it and kissed the skirt of his coat.
‘Praise be to God, sir, for letting a miserable cur like me live to see such a joyful day,’ he shouted, half crying and half laughing.
All his face, from forehead to chin, seemed to have been branded with purple. His nose had, besides, a bluish tint. He was quite bald; his whiskers were as big as before, but they were tangled into a thick mat, and each looked as though a lump of snow had been put in it. He wore a threadbare and completely faded overcoat, one side of which was torn off, a pair of old and worn goloshes on his bare feet, and in his hand he held a worn fur cap.
‘The dear Lord, sir, has done me a real favour this morning on account of its being a feast-day, I suppose.’
‘Why are you in such a state? Aren’t you ashamed?’
‘Good Lord, sir, what was I to do?’ Zakhar began, heaving a deep sigh. ‘I have to keep body and soul together, sir. Now, you see, sir, when Anisya was alive, I didn’t knock about the streets, for I had enough to eat, but when she died during the cholera – God rest her soul – the mistress’s brother refused to keep me – called me a parasite, he did, and Mr Tarantyev always tried to kick me from behind as I walked past him. Oh, sir, it wasn’t much of a life, I can tell you. The names they called me, sir! Would you believe it, sir, things came to such a pass that I couldn’t eat a bite – lost my appetite I have. If it wasn’t for the mistress – God bless her! – I’d have perished long ago in the frost. She gives me some clothes for the winter and as much bread as I want, and she used to give me a corner on the stove, too, bless her heart, but they began nagging at her on my account, so I just walked out of the house, sir. Aye, sir, it’ll be two years soon since I began leading this wretched life…’
‘Why didn’t you take a job?’ asked Stolz.
Why, sir, you can’t find jobs so easily nowadays. I had two situations, sir, but I didn’t give satisfaction. It’s all different now, not like it was in the good old days, sir. It’s much worse. A footman must know how to read and write, and great noblemen, sir, haven’t their entrance halls crammed with servants as they used to. All they want is one footman or at most two. They take their boots off themselves, seem to have invented some special machine for that,’ Zakhar went on mournfully. ‘It’s a blooming shame and a disgrace, sir! There won’t be any gentry left soon!’
He heaved a sigh.
‘You see, sir, I got a job with one of them German merchants to sit in the hall. All went well till he sent me to wait at table. It’s not really my line of business, sir, is it? I was carrying some crockery one day – Bohemian china, it was – and the floors were slippery, damn them! Well, sir, my feet suddenly slid apart and all the crockery – the whole blooming lot, sir, tray and all – crashed to the floor. Well, of course, sir, they gave me the sack. Another time an old countess liked the look of me. “You seem respectable,” she says to me, and gave me the job of hall porter. It’s a good old-fashioned sort of job, sir. All you have to do is to sit on a chair and look important, cross your legs, and just swing one foot slowly like, and if anyone comes you mustn’t answer at once, but first you must give a growl and then let him in or kick him out, all according. And, of course, if important visitors come you must salute them with your staff, like that, sir!’ Zakhar showed with his arm how to salute. ‘It’s a fine job, sir, and no mistake. But her ladyship was difficult to please – very difficult indeed! One day she looked into my room, saw a bug, and kicked up such an unholy row, sir, just as if I