is—useless and of no use to the fatherland. Do you understand that? I say, do you understand that, my very dear sir?! That’s how it would be, sort of…But no, however, what am I…that’s not it, not it at all…What am I babbling, like an utter fool! me, suicide that I am! I say, suicide that you are, it’s not that at all…Though that is how, you depraved man, that is how things are done nowadays!…Well, where shall I take myself now? Well, what, for instance, am I to do with myself now? What am I good for now? What, for instance, are you good for now, you Goliadkin, you worthless fellow! Well, what now? I have to hire a carriage; go, she says, and fetch a carriage here; our little feet, she says, will get wet if there’s no carriage…There, who’d have thought it? Oh, you young lady! oh, lady mine! oh, you well-behaved miss! oh, our much-praised one! You’ve distinguished yourself, ma’am, I declare, you’ve distinguished yourself!…And it all comes from immoral upbringing; and I, as I look closely now and get to the bottom of it all, I see that it comes from nothing else than immorality. Instead of a bit of birching from a young age…every once in a while…they give her candy, they stuff her with all sorts of sweets, and the old fellow slobbers over her: says you’re my this, and you’re my that, you good girl, says I’ll give you away to a count!…And now she’s up and shown us her cards; says here’s what our game is! Instead of keeping her at home at a young age, they put her in a boarding school, with a French madame, an emigree Falbala{28} of some sort; and she learns all kinds of good things from the emigree Falbala—and so it all turns out this way. She says, go on, rejoice! Says, be there with a carriage at such and such hour in front of the windows and sing a sentimental romance in Spanish style; I’m waiting for you, and I know you love me, and we’ll run off together and live in a cabin. But it’s impossible, finally; if it’s come to that, lady mine, it’s impossible, it’s against the law to carry off an honest and innocent girl from her parents’ home without her parents’ permission! And, finally, what for, and why, and where’s the need? Well, let her marry the one she ought to, the one she’s destined for, and the matter can end there. But I’m in government service; I could lose my job because of it; I, lady mine, could wind up in court because of it! that’s what, in case you didn’t know! This is the German woman’s work. It’s from her, the witch, that all this comes, she set the whole forest on fire. Because they’re slandering a man, because they’ve invented some old wives’ tale about him, some cock-and-bull story, on Andrei Filippovich’s advice, that’s where it comes from. Otherwise why is Petrushka mixed up in it? what is it to him? what’s the need for that rogue here? No, I can’t do it, my lady, I simply can’t do it, can’t do it for anything…You, my lady, must excuse me somehow this time. It all comes from you, my lady, it doesn’t come from the German woman, not from the witch at all, but purely from you, because the witch is a good woman, because the witch is not to blame for anything, it’s you, lady mine, who are to blame—that’s how it is! You, my lady, are leading me into futility…A man’s perishing here, a man’s vanishing from his own sight here, and can’t control himself—what sort of wedding can there be! And how will it all end? and how will it be settled now? I’d pay dearly to know all that!…”
Thus our hero reasoned in his despair. Suddenly coming to his senses, he noticed that he was standing somewhere on Liteinaya. The weather was terrible: there was a thaw, heavy snow fell, rain came—exactly as in that unforgettable time, at the dreadful midnight hour, when all of Mr. Goliadkin’s misfortunes had begun. “What sort of journey can there be!” thought Mr. Goliadkin, looking at the weather, “this is universal death…Oh, Lord God! where, for instance, am I to find a carriage? There seems to be something black there at the corner. Let’s look, examine…Oh, Lord God!” our hero went on, directing his feeble and shaky steps towards where he saw something resembling a carriage. “No, here’s what I’ll do: I’ll go, fall at his feet, if I can, I’ll humbly beg. I’ll say, thus and so; into your hands I put my fate, into the hands of my superiors; say, Your Excellency, be a benefactor, defend a man; thus and so, say, there’s this and that, an illegal act; do not destroy me, I take you as a father, do not abandon me…save my pride, my honor, my name…save me from a villain, a depraved man…He’s a different man, Your Excellency, and I’m also a different man; he’s separate, and I’m also my own man; I’m really my own man, Your Excellency, really my own man; so there. I’ll say, I can’t resemble him; change it, if you please, order it changed— and do away with the godless, unwarranted substitute…no example to others, Your Excellency. I take you as my father; our superiors are, of course, beneficent and solicitous and ought to encourage such actions…There’s even something chivalrous in it. I’ll say, I take you, my beneficent superior, as a father, and entrust my fate to you, and will not object, I entrust myself to you and withdraw from the affair…so there!”
“Well, so, my dear, are you a cabby?”
“I am…”
“A carriage, brother, for the evening…”
“And would you be going far, if you please, sir?”
“For the evening, for the evening; wherever it may be, my dear, wherever it may be.”
“Might you be going out of town, if you please, sir?”
“Yes, my friend, maybe out of town, too. I still don’t know for certain myself, my friend, I can’t tell you for certain, my dear. You see, my dear, it may all get settled for the best. Everybody knows, my friend…”
“Yes, of course, sir, everybody knows; God grant everybody that.”
“Yes, my friend, yes; thank you, my dear; well, how much will you charge, my dear?…”
“Might you be pleased to go now, sir?”
“Yes, now, that is, no, you must wait in a certain place…wait a little, it won’t be long, my dear…”
“If you hire me for the whole time, sir, it can’t be less than six roubles, considering the weather, sir…”
“All right, my friend, all right; and I’ll thank you well, my dear. Well, so you’ll take me now, my dear.”
“Get in; excuse me, I’ll straighten it out a little here; get in now, if you please. Where would you like to go?”
“To the Izmailovsky Bridge, my friend.”
The driver clambered up on the box and urged his pair of skinny nags, whom he had trouble tearing away from the hay trough, in the direction of the Izmailovsky Bridge. But Mr. Goliadkin suddenly tugged the bell-pull, stopped the carriage, and asked in a pleading voice to turn back and not go to the Izmailovsky Bridge, but to another street. The driver turned into the other street, and in ten minutes Mr. Goliadkin’s newly obtained vehicle stopped in front of the house in which his excellency was quartered. Mr. Goliadkin got out of the carriage, insistently asked his driver to wait, and with a sinking heart ran up to the first floor, tugged the bell-pull, the door opened, and our hero found himself in his excellency’s front hall.
“Is his excellency at home, if you please?” asked Mr. Goliadkin, addressing in this way the man who had opened the door for him.
“What is your business, sir?” asked the footman, looking Mr. Goliadkin up and down.
“I, my friend, am sort of…Goliadkin, a clerk, Titular Councillor Goliadkin. Say, thus and so, to explain…”
“Wait; it’s impossible, sir…”
“I can’t wait, my friend: my business is important, it will brook no delay…”
“But where are you coming from? Have you brought any papers?…”
“No, my friend, I’m on my own…Announce me, my friend, say, thus and so, to explain. And I’ll thank you well, my dear…”
“Impossible, sir. I have no orders to receive anyone; they’re having guests, sir. Please come in the morning at ten o’clock, sir…”
“Announce me, my dear; I can’t, it’s impossible for me to wait…You’ll answer for it, my dear…”
“Go and announce him; what, are you sorry for your boots or something?” said the other footman, who was sprawled on a bench and so far had not said a word.
“Wear out my boots! He gave no orders to receive anyone, you know? Their turn’s in the morning.”
“Announce him. Your tongue won’t fall off.”
“So I’ll announce him: my tongue won’t fall off. But he gave no orders, I told you, he gave no orders. Come in, then.”
Mr. Goliadkin went into the first room; there was a clock on the table. He looked: it was half-past eight. His heart ached in his breast. He was about to retreat; but at that moment the lanky footman, standing on the threshold of the next room, loudly pronounced Mr. Goliadkin’s name. “What a gullet!” our hero thought in indescribable anguish…“Well, he might have said: sort of…say, thus and so, came most obediently and humbly to explain—sort of…be so good as to receive…But now the whole affair is ruined, and it’s all gone to the winds; however…ah, well—never mind…” There was no point in reasoning, however. The footman came back, said, “This way please,” and led Mr. Goliadkin into the study.
When our hero went in, he felt as if he had been blinded, for he could see decidedly nothing. Two or three figures, however, flashed before his eyes. “These must be the guests,” flashed through Mr. Goliadkin’s head. Finally, our hero began to make out clearly the star on his excellency’s black tailcoat, then, still as gradually, he passed on
