Oblomov - Ivan Goncharov [29]
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Oblomov. ‘Why, he actually quotes the police inspector’s answer in the letter and so authentically, too.’
‘Oh, you simpleton! You don’t know anything. All rogues write authentically – take my word for it. Here, for instance,’ he went on, pointing to Alexeyev, ‘sits an honest fellow who won’t hurt a fly – well, will he write an authentic letter? Never. But his relation, though a rogue and a swine, will. And you won’t write such a letter, either. Your bailiff therefore is a rascal just because he has written such a clever and authentic-sounding letter. You see how carefully he chose his words: “to send them back to their place of domicile.”’
‘What am I to do with him?’ asked Oblomov.
‘Sack him at once.’
‘But whom shall I appoint in his place? What do I know about the peasants? Another one might be worse. I haven’t been there for twelve years.’
‘Go to your estate yourself: that must be done. Spend the summer there and in the autumn come straight to the new flat. I’ll see that it’s all ready for you.’
‘Move to a new flat – go to the country – and all by myself! What desperate measures you suggest!’ Oblomov said, looking displeased. ‘Nothing about avoiding extremes and suggesting some sort of compromise.’
‘Well, my dear fellow, you’re as good as done for. Why, in your place I’d have mortgaged the estate long ago and bought another or a house here in a good residential part of the town; that’s a damn sight better than that country place of yours. And then I’d have mortgaged the house and bought another. Let me have your estate and I’d soon make them sit up.’
‘Stop boasting and think of something so that I need not leave this flat or go to the country and so that everything should be settled satisfactorily,’ Oblomov remarked.
‘But will you ever do anything?’ said Tarantyev. ‘Have a good look at yourself. Why, you’re not good for anything. Of what use are you to your country? You can’t even go to your estate!’
‘It’s a bit too soon for me to go there,’ replied Oblomov. ‘I must first finish my plan of the changes I intend to introduce on my estate.… But, look here, Tarantyev,’ Oblomov said suddenly, ‘why shouldn’t you go instead? You know what the business is and you have a pretty good idea what the countryside is like in those parts – I would pay your expenses – –’
‘I’m not your manager, am I?’ Tarantyev said haughtily. ‘Besides, I’ve lost the knack of dealing with peasants.’
‘What am I to do?’ said Oblomov, pensively. ‘I’m hanged if I know.’
‘Well, write to the police inspector. Ask him if the bailiff has spoken to him about runaway peasants,’ Tarantyev advised, ‘and ask him to visit your estates too; then write to the Governor to order the police inspector to report on the bailiff’s conduct. “Will your Excellency be so good as to take a fatherly interest in me and cast a merciful eye upon the terrible and inevitable misfortune that threatens to overwhelm me as a result of my bailiff’s outrageous behaviour and the utter ruin which is bound to overtake me together with my wife and twelve little children who will be left unprovided for and starving” – –’
Oblomov laughed.
‘Where am I to get so many children if I am asked to produce them?’ he said.
‘Nonsense, man! Write: “Twelve children”. No one will pay any attention to it and no one will make inquiries, but it will sound “authentic”. The Governor will pass on the letter to his secretary, and you will write