Oblomov / Обломов. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Иван Гончаров

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Oblomov / Обломов. Книга для чтения на английском языке - Иван Гончаров


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thank you. What should I do there?»

      «At the Mussinskys’? Why, half the town is there! What should you do there? It’s a house where they talk about everything».

      «That’s what I find so boring – talking about everything», said Oblomov.

      «Well, why don’t you go to the Mezdrovs’?» Volkov interrupted him. «There they talk about one thing only – art. All you hear there is – the Venetian school, Bach and Beethoven, Leonardo da Vinci…»

      «Always the same thing – how boring!» said Oblomov with a yawn. «Pedants, I suppose».

      «There’s no pleasing you. Why, there are hundreds of houses you can go to. Everyone has definite visiting days now: the Savinovs have dinners on Thursdays, the Maklashins on Fridays, the Vyaznikovs on Sundays, Prince Tyumenev on Wednesdays. I’m engaged every day of the week», Volkov concluded with shining eyes.

      «And don’t you find it exhausting to go rushing about day after day?»

      «Exhausting? Good Lord, no! It’s great fun!» Volkov said happily. «In the morning I read the papers – one must be au courant with everything, know the news. Thank heavens my job in the Civil Service doesn’t require my presence at the office.

      All I’m supposed to do is to have dinner twice a week with the head of my department. Then I go visiting people I haven’t seen some time – well, then – er – there’s always a new actress in the Russian or in the French theatre. The opera season will be opening soon and I shall book seats for it. And now I’m in love – summer is coming – Misha has been promised leave – we’ll go for a month to their estate for a change. We can do some shooting there. They have splendid neighbours who give bals champêtres. Lydia and I will go for walks in the woods, go boating, pick flowers – Oh!» and he spun round and round with delight. «However, I must be off. Good-bye», he said, trying in vain to have a good look at himself in the dusty mirror.

      «Wait a moment», Oblomov tried to stop him. «I wanted to talk business with you».

      «Sorry – I’m in a hurry», Volkov replied. «Another time! But won’t you come with me and have some oysters? You’ll be able to tell me all about it then. Come, Misha is treating us».

      «No, thank you», said Oblomov.

      «Good-bye, then».

      He walked to the door and came back.

      «Have you seen this?» he asked, showing him a hand in a marvellously fitting glove.

      «What is it?» asked Oblomov, looking perplexed.

      «The new lacets. You see how wonderfully they fit. You haven’t got to wrestle for two hours trying to button your glove. You just pull the lace and it’s done. It’s just arrived from Paris. Would you like me to bring you a pair to try?»

      «All right, bring me a pair», said Oblomov.

      «And have a look at this. Very charming, isn’t it?» he asked, picking out one of his trinkets. «A visiting-card with a corner turned down».

      «Can’t make out the inscription».

      «Pr. Prince M. Michel», Volkov said. «There was no room for the surname Tyumenev. He gave this to me instead of an Easter egg. – But good-bye – au revoir. I’ve another ten calls to make. Oh, how gay life is!»

      And he vanished.

      «Ten visits in one day – the poor wretch!» thought Oblomov. «And this is life!» he shrugged his shoulders. «What’s there left of the man? What is he wasting and frittering himself away for? No doubt it’s nice to look in at the theatre, and fall in love with some Lydia – she’s very charming! Pick flowers with her in the country, go shooting – there’s nothing wrong with that. But make ten calls in one day – poor wretch!» he concluded, turning over on his back, glad that he had no such empty thoughts and desires, that he did not rush about, but lay in bed, preserving his peace and his human dignity.

      Another ring at the door interrupted his thoughts. A new visitor came in.

      It was a man in a dark green frock-coat, with brass embossed buttons, his cleanly-shaven, worn-out face framed evenly by a pair of dark side-whiskers; he had tired, but calm and thoughtful, eyes, and a pensive smile.

      «Good morning, Sudbinsky», Oblomov greeted him gaily. «So you’ve come at last to see your old colleague! Don’t come near – don’t come near – you’re straight from the cold street!»

      «How are you, Oblomov? I’ve long been meaning to call on you», said the visitor, «but you know how devilishly busy I am. Look – I’m taking a caseful of official papers to the office to report on. And I’ve told the courier to come straight here if I should be asked for. I haven’t a moment to myself».

      «You’re going to your office at this hour? Why so late?» asked Oblomov. «You used to be there at ten o’clock».

      «I used to – yes. But now it’s different: I drive there at twelve». He emphasized the word «drive’.

      „Oh, I see“, said Oblomov. „You’re head of a department! Since when?“

      Sudbinsky nodded significantly.

      „Since Easter“, he said. „But the amount of work – it’s dreadful! From eight to twelve at home, from twelve to five at the office, and more work in the evening. Never see anyone!“

      „Well, well! Head of a department – so that’s it!“ said Oblomov. „Congratulations! What a fellow! And we used to be office clerks together. I shouldn’t be surprised if you were made a State Counsellor next year“.

      „Good heavens, no. I should have been given the order of the Crown this year. I thought I’d receive an order for distinguished services – but now that I’ve been given my new post – you can’t be promoted twice in two years“.

      „Come and have dinner with me; we’ll drink to your promotion“, said Oblomov.

      „I’m sorry, but I’m dining with the vice-director to-day. I have to get my report ready for Thursday – hellish work! You can’t rely on the provincial reports. You have to check the lists yourself. Our vice-director is so particular, he insists on doing everything himself. So we shall sit down to it together after dinner“.

      „Not after dinner, surely?“ asked Oblomov, incredulously.

      „Why, what do you think? I’ll be lucky to get off early – I’ll have time to drive to Yekaterinhof. As a matter of fact, I came to ask if you wouldn’t go with me. I’d call for you“.

      „I’m afraid I’m not feeling very well“, said Oblomov, frowning. „Besides, I’ve a lot to do – No, sorry, I can’t!“

      „A pity“, said Sudbinsky. „It’s a lovely day. To-day is my only chance of getting some fresh air“.

      „Well, any news at the office?“ asked Oblomov.

      „Yes, all sorts of things. We don’t sign letters now, „Your humble servant“, but: „Accept our assurance of“. We’re no longer required to send in service lists in duplicate. Our department is to get three more sections and two more officials for special duties. Our committee has been closed. Lots of things!“

      „Well, and what about our former colleagues?“

      „Nothing special so far. Svinkin has lost a file of official documents“.

      „No? What did the director do?“ Oblomov asked in a trembling voice. In spite of himself, he felt frightened from force of habit.

      „He ordered to withhold his promotion till the file turns up. It’s an important case, concerning penalties. The director believes“, Sudbinsky added almost in a whisper, „that he has lost it on purpose“.

      „I don’t believe it!“

      „You’re quite right“, Sudbinsky affirmed importantly, with an air of condescension. „Svinkin is such a feather-brained fellow. He sometimes


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