me…” Mr. Goliadkin replied timorously and in a whisper.
“Come, come, what’s this about enemies! There’s no need to mention enemies, absolutely no need! Sit down, sit down,” Krestyan Ivanovich went on, definitively sitting Mr. Goliadkin in the armchair.
Mr. Goliadkin finally sat down, not taking his eyes from Krestyan Ivanovich. Krestyan Ivanovich, looking extremely displeased, began to pace up and down his office. A long silence ensued.
“I’m grateful to you, Krestyan Ivanovich, quite grateful and quite sensible of all you’ve now done for me. To my dying day I will not forget your kindness, Krestyan Ivanovich,” Mr. Goliadkin said finally, getting up from his chair with an offended look.
“Come, come, I tell you, enough!” Krestyan Ivanovich responded rather sternly to Mr. Goliadkin’s outburst, sitting him down again. “Well, what is it? Tell me, what’s this unpleasantness you have there,” Krestyan Ivanovich went on, “and what enemies are you talking about? What is it with you there?”
“No, Krestyan Ivanovich, we’d better drop that now,” replied Mr. Goliadkin, lowering his eyes to the ground, “better set it all aside for a time…for another time, Krestyan Ivanovich, for a more opportune time, when everything is disclosed, and the mask falls from certain faces, and certain things are laid bare. And meanwhile, naturally, after what has occurred with us…you yourself will agree, Krestyan Ivanovich…Allow me to bid you good morning, Krestyan Ivanovich,” said Mr. Goliadkin, this time resolutely and seriously getting up from his place and seizing his hat.
“Ah, well…as you wish…hm…” (A moment of silence ensued.) “I, for my part, you know, whatever I can…and I sincerely wish you well.”
“I understand you, Krestyan Ivanovich, I understand; I understand you completely now…In any case, excuse me for having troubled you, Krestyan Ivanovich.”
“Hm…No, that’s not what I wanted to say. However, as you wish. Continue the medications as before…”
“I will continue the medications, as you say, Krestyan Ivanovich, I will, and I’ll get them from the same apothecary. Nowadays, Krestyan Ivanovich, even being an apothecary has become an important thing…”
“Oh? In what sense do you mean to say?”
“In a perfectly ordinary sense, Krestyan Ivanovich. I mean to say, that’s how the world goes nowadays…”
“Hm…”
“And that every little brat, not only from the apothecary, turns up his nose before a decent person now.”
“Hm…And how do you understand that?”
“I’m speaking, Krestyan Ivanovich, about a certain person…about our mutual acquaintance, Krestyan Ivanovich, say, for instance, about Vladimir Semyonovich…”
“Ah!…”
“Yes, Krestyan Ivanovich; and I know some people, Krestyan Ivanovich, who do not hold so much to the general opinion as not to tell the truth sometimes.”
“Ah!…How is that?”
“It’s just so, sir. That, however, is a side issue; they sometimes know how to offer a cock with a sock.”
“What? Offer what?”
“A cock with a sock, Krestyan Ivanovich; it’s a Russian saying. They sometimes know how to congratulate a person opportunely, for example—there are such people, Krestyan Ivanovich.”
“Congratulate?”
“Yes, sir, congratulate, as a close acquaintance of mine did the other day…”
“A close acquaintance of yours…ah! how’s that?” said Krestyan Ivanovich, looking attentively at Mr Goliadkin.
“Yes, sir, a close acquaintance of mine congratulated another, also quite a close acquaintance, and moreover an intimate, or, as they say, the sweetest of friends, on his promotion, on receiving the rank of assessor.{4} It just came out by itself. ‘I am,’ he said, that is, ‘most feelingly glad of the chance to offer you, Vladimir Semyonovich, my congratulations, my
“Hm…So he said that…”
“He did, Krestyan Ivanovich, he said it and immediately looked at Andrei Filippovich, the uncle of our little treasure, Vladimir Semyonovich. But what is it to me, Krestyan Ivanovich, that he was made an assessor? What is it to me? And he wants to get married, when the milk, if I may be permitted to say so, is not yet dry on his lips. And so I told him. That is, I mean, Vladimir Semyonovich! I’ve told you everything now; allow me to leave.”
“Hm…”
“Yes, Krestyan Ivanovich, allow me, I say, to leave now. And here, to kill two birds with one stone—once I’ve cut the lad down with the little grannies, I turn to Klara Olsufyevna (this was two days ago at Olsufy Ivanovich’s), and she had just finished singing a heartfelt romance—that is, I say, ‘You have been pleased to sing a most heartfelt romance, only you have not been listened to with a pure heart.’ And I clearly hint by that, you understand, Krestyan Ivanovich, I clearly hint by that, that what was being sought was not her, but something further…”
“Ah! And what about him?”
“He bit the lemon, Krestyan Ivanovich, as the saying goes.”
“Hm…”
“Yes, sir, Krestyan Ivanovich. And I also say to the old man—that is, Olsufy Ivanovich, I say, I know how much I owe you, I fully appreciate your benefactions, which you have showered upon me almost from my childhood. But open your eyes, Olsufy Ivanovich, I say. Look around. I myself am conducting the affair candidly and openly, Olsufy Ivanovich.”
“Ah, so that’s how!”
“Yes, Krestyan Ivanovich. That’s how it…”
“And what about him?”
“What about him, Krestyan Ivanovich! He mumbles—this and that, and I know you, and his excellency’s a benevolent man—and on he goes, and smooches it around…But so what? He’s gone pretty dotty, as they say, from old age.”
“Ah! so that’s how it is now!”
“Yes, Krestyan Ivanovich. And yet we’re all like that! an old codger! staring into the grave, at his last gasp, as they say, but then there’s some women’s gossip, and there he is listening; no doing without him…”
“Gossip, you say?”
“Yes, Krestyan Ivanovich, they’ve made up some gossip. And our bear and his nephew, our little treasure, have mixed their hands in it; they’ve banded together with the old women and cooked up the business. What do you think? How have they contrived to kill a man?…”
“To kill a man?”
“Yes, Krestyan Ivanovich, to kill a man, to kill a man morally. They’ve spread…I’m still talking about my close acquaintance…”
Krestyan Ivanovich nodded his head.
“They’ve spread a rumor about him…I confess to you, I’m even ashamed to say it, Krestyan Ivanovich…”
“Hm…”
“They’ve spread a rumor that he has already signed an agreement to marry, that he’s already engaged elsewhere…And to whom do you think, Krestyan Ivanovich?”
“Really?”
“To a cookshop owner, an indecent German woman, from whom he buys his dinners; instead of paying his debts he’s offering her his hand.”
“That’s what they say?”
“Would you believe it, Krestyan Ivanovich? A German woman, a mean, vile, shameless German woman, Karolina Ivanovna, if you know…”
“I confess, for my part…”
