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"'
Grigori
Goiezhai-ne-Doiedesh
,
"'
he
went
on
.
"
What
sort
of
a
man
were
YOU
,
I
wonder
?
Were
you
a
carrier
who
,
having
set
up
a
team
of
three
horses
and
a
tilt
waggon
,
left
your
home
,
your
native
hovel
,
for
ever
,
and
departed
to
cart
merchandise
to
market
?
Was
it
on
the
highway
that
you
surrendered
your
soul
to
God
,
or
did
your
friends
first
marry
you
to
some
fat
,
red-faced
soldier
's
daughter
;
after
which
your
harness
and
team
of
rough
,
but
sturdy
,
horses
caught
a
highwayman
's
fancy
,
and
you
,
lying
on
your
pallet
,
thought
things
over
until
,
willy-nilly
,
you
felt
that
you
must
get
up
and
make
for
the
tavern
,
thereafter
blundering
into
an
icehole
?
Ah
,
our
peasant
of
Russia
!
Never
do
you
welcome
death
when
it
comes
!
"
"
And
you
,
my
friends
?
"
continued
Chichikov
,
turning
to
the
sheet
whereon
were
inscribed
the
names
of
Plushkin
's
absconded
serfs
.
"
Although
you
are
still
alive
,
what
is
the
good
of
you
?
You
are
practically
dead
.
Whither
,
I
wonder
,
have
your
fugitive
feet
carried
you
?
Did
you
fare
hardly
at
Plushkin
's
,
or
was
it
that
your
natural
inclinations
led
you
to
prefer
roaming
the
wilds
and
plundering
travellers
?
Are
you
,
by
this
time
,
in
gaol
,
or
have
you
taken
service
with
other
masters
for
the
tillage
of
their
lands
?
'
Eremei
Kariakin
,
Nikita
Volokita
and
Anton
Volokita
(
son
of
the
foregoing
)
.
'
To
judge
from
your
surnames
,
you
would
seem
to
have
been
born
gadabouts
29
.
'
Popov
,
household
serf
.
'
Probably
you
are
an
educated
man
,
good
Popov
,
and
go
in
for
polite
thieving
,
as
distinguished
from
the
more
vulgar
cut-throat
sort
.
In
my
mind
's
eye
I
seem
to
see
a
Captain
of
Rural
Police
challenging
you
for
being
without
a
passport
;
whereupon
you
stake
your
all
upon
a
single
throw
.
'
To
whom
do
you
belong
?
'
asks
the
Captain
,
probably
adding
to
his
question
a
forcible
expletive
.
'
To
such
and
such
a
landowner
,
'
stoutly
you
reply
.
'
And
what
are
you
doing
here
?
'
continues
the
Captain
.
'
I
have
just
received
permission
to
go
and
earn
my
obrok
,
'
is
your
fluent
explanation
.
'
Then
where
is
your
passport
?
'
'
At
Miestchanin
30
Pimenov
's
.
'
'
Pimenov
's
?
Then
are
you
Pimenov
himself
?
'
'
Yes
,
I
am
Pimenov
himself
.
'
'
He
has
given
you
his
passport
?
'
'
No
,
he
has
not
given
me
his
passport
.
'
'
Come
,
come
!
'
shouts
the
Captain
with
another
forcible
expletive
.
'
You
are
lying
!
'
'
No
,
I
am
not
,
'
is
your
dogged
reply
.
'
It
is
only
that
last
night
I
could
not
return
him
his
passport
,
because
I
came
home
late
;
so
I
handed
it
to
Antip
Prochorov
,
the
bell-ringer
,
for
him
to
take
care
of
.
'
'
Bell-ringer
,
indeed
!
Then
HE
gave
you
a
passport
?
'
'
No
;
I
did
not
receive
a
passport
from
him
either
.
'
'
What
?
'
--
and
here
the
Captain
shouts
another
expletive
--
'
How
dare
you
keep
on
lying
?
Where
is
YOUR
OWN
passport
?
'
'
I
had
one
all
right
,
'
you
reply
cunningly
,
'
but
must
have
dropped
it
somewhere
on
the
road
as
I
came
along
.
'
'
And
what
about
that
soldier
's
coat
?
'
asks
the
Captain
with
an
impolite
addition
.
'
Whence
did
you
get
it
?
And
what
of
the
priest
's
cashbox
and
copper
money
?
"
'
About
them
I
know
nothing
,
'
you
reply
doggedly
.
'
Never
at
any
time
have
I
committed
a
theft
.
'
'
Then
how
is
it
that
the
coat
was
found
at
your
place
?
'
'
I
do
not
know
.
Probably
some
one
else
put
it
there
.
'
'
You
rascal
,
you
rascal
!
'
shouts
the
Captain
,
shaking
his
head
,
and
closing
in
upon
you
.
'
Put
the
leg-irons
upon
him
,
and
off
with
him
to
prison
!
'
'
With
pleasure
,
'
you
reply
as
,
taking
a
snuff-box
from
your
pocket
,
you
offer
a
pinch
to
each
of
the
two
gendarmes
who
are
manacling
you
,
while
also
inquiring
how
long
they
have
been
discharged
from
the
army
,
and
in
what
wars
they
may
have
served
.
And
in
prison
you
remain
until
your
case
comes
on
,
when
the
justice
orders
you
to
be
removed
from
Tsarev-Kokshaika
to
such
and
such
another
prison
,
and
a
second
justice
orders
you
to
be
transferred
thence
to
Vesiegonsk
or
somewhere
else
,
and
you
go
flitting
from
gaol
to
gaol
,
and
saying
each
time
,
as
you
eye
your
new
habitation
,
'
The
last
place
was
a
good
deal
cleaner
than
this
one
is
,
and
one
could
play
babki
31
there
,
and
stretch
one
's
legs
,
and
see
a
little
society
.
"'
"'
Abakum
Thirov
,
"'
Chichikov
went
on
after
a
pause
.
"
What
of
YOU
,
brother
?
Where
,
and
in
what
capacity
,
are
YOU
disporting
yourself
?
Have
you
gone
to
the
Volga
country
,
and
become
bitten
with
the
life
of
freedom
,
and
joined
the
fishermen
of
the
river
?
"
Here
,
breaking
off
,
Chichikov
relapsed
into
silent
meditation
.
Of
what
was
he
thinking
as
he
sat
there
?
Was
he
thinking
of
the
fortunes
of
Abakum
Thirov
,
or
was
he
meditating
as
meditates
every
Russian
when
his
thoughts
once
turn
to
the
joys
of
an
emancipated
existence
?
"
Ah
,
well
!
"
he
sighed
,
looking
at
his
watch
.
"
It
has
now
gone
twelve
o'clock
.
Why
have
I
so
forgotten
myself
?
There
is
still
much
to
be
done
,
yet
I
go
shutting
myself
up
and
letting
my
thoughts
wander
!
What
a
fool
I
am
!
"
So
saying
,
he
exchanged
his
Scottish
costume
(
of
a
shirt
and
nothing
else
)
for
attire
of
a
more
European
nature
;
after
which
he
pulled
tight
the
waistcoat
over
his
ample
stomach
,
sprinkled
himself
with
eau-de-Cologne
,
tucked
his
papers
under
his
arm
,
took
his
fur
cap
,
and
set
out
for
the
municipal
offices
,
for
the
purpose
of
completing
the
transfer
of
souls
.
The
fact
that
he
hurried
along
was
not
due
to
a
fear
of
being
late
(
seeing
that
the
President
of
the
Local
Council
was
an
intimate
acquaintance
of
his
,
as
well
as
a
functionary
who
could
shorten
or
prolong
an
interview
at
will
,
even
as
Homer
's
Zeus
was
able
to
shorten
or
to
prolong
a
night
or
a
day
,
whenever
it
became
necessary
to
put
an
end
to
the
fighting
of
his
favourite
heroes
,
or
to
enable
them
to
join
battle
)
,
but
rather
to
a
feeling
that
he
would
like
to
have
the
affair
concluded
as
quickly
as
possible
,
seeing
that
,
throughout
,
it
had
been
an
anxious
and
difficult
business
.
Also
,
he
could
not
get
rid
of
the
idea
that
his
souls
were
unsubstantial
things
,
and
that
therefore
,
under
the
circumstances
,
his
shoulders
had
better
be
relieved
of
their
load
with
the
least
possible
delay
.
Pulling
on
his
cinnamon-coloured
,
bear-lined
overcoat
as
he
went
,
he
had
just
stepped
thoughtfully
into
the
street
when
he
collided
with
a
gentleman
dressed
in
a
similar
coat
and
an
ear-lappeted
fur
cap
.
Upon
that
the
gentleman
uttered
an
exclamation
.
Behold
,
it
was
Manilov
!
At
once
the
friends
became
folded
in
a
strenuous
embrace
,
and
remained
so
locked
for
fully
five
minutes
.
Indeed
,
the
kisses
exchanged
were
so
vigorous
that
both
suffered
from
toothache
for
the
greater
portion
of
the
day
.
Also
,
Manilov
's
delight
was
such
that
only
his
nose
and
lips
remained
visible
--
the
eyes
completely
disappeared
.
Afterwards
he
spent
about
a
quarter
of
an
hour
in
holding
Chichikov
's
hand
and
chafing
it
vigorously
.
