“No, my friend, I don’t mean that; I never…don’t go thinking anything, my dear friend…”
“Everybody knows, sir. With the likes of us, you know yourself, if you please, sir, you can slander a man in no time, sir. But they’ve always been satisfied with me, sir. There’ve been ministers, generals, senators, counts, sir. I’ve been with them all, sir, with Prince Svinchatkin, with Colonel Pereborkin, also had a go with General Nedobarov, in my native parts, sir. Everybody knows, sir…”
“Yes, my friend, yes; very well, my friend, very well. So now I, too, my friend, am leaving…There’s a different path laid down for each of us, my dear, and no one knows what road a man may wind up on. Well, my friend, give me my clothes now; and also put in my uniform…a second pair of trousers, sheets, blankets, pillows…”
“Will you have me tie it all up in a bundle, sir?”
“Yes, my friend, yes; perhaps in a bundle…Who knows what may happen with us? Well, now, my dear, go out and find a carriage…”
“A carriage, sir?…”
“Yes, my friend, a carriage, a roomy one and for some length of time. And don’t go thinking anything, my friend…”
“And do you mean to go a long way, sir?”
“I don’t know, my friend, I don’t know that either. I suppose you should also put in the feather bed. What do you think, my friend? I’m relying on you, my dear…”
“Might you be pleased to leave at once, sir?”
“Yes, my friend, yes! There’s this circumstance…so it is, my dear, so it is…”
“Everybody knows, sir; it was the same with a lieutenant in our regiment—ran off, sir…with a landowner’s…”
“Ran off?…What, my dear? You…”
“Yes, ran off, sir, and they got married on another estate. It was all prepared beforehand, sir. They were pursued; only here the late prince stepped in, sir—well, and the matter was settled, sir…”
“Married, hm…but how is it, my dear, how did you come to know it?”
“Why, what do you mean, sir, everybody knows! The earth’s full of rumors, sir. Yes, sir, we know everything…of course, nobody’s without sin. Only I’ll tell you now, sir, allow me in a simple, boorish way to tell you, since we’re talking about it, sir, I’ll tell you—you’ve got a rival there, sir, a strong rival…”
“I know, my friend, I know; you know it yourself, my dear…Well, so I’m relying on you. What are we to do, my friend? How would you advise me?”
“So then, sir, if you’re now proceeding, shall we say, in such a manner, sir, you’ll need to buy a thing or two, sir—well, say, sheets, pillows, another feather bed, a double one, sir, a good blanket, sir—from the neighbor here, sir, downstairs: she’s a tradeswoman; she has a good fox-fur woman’s coat; you could have a look at it and buy it, you could go now and have a look, sir. You’ll need it now, sir; a good satin coat, sir, lined with fox fur…”
“Well, all right, my friend, all right; I agree, my friend, I’m relying on you, relying on you fully; perhaps the coat as well, my dear…Only quickly, quickly! for God’s sake, quickly! I’ll buy the coat as well, only quickly, please! It will soon be eight o’clock, hurry, for God’s sake, my friend! as fast as you can, my friend!…”
Petrushka abandoned the as yet untied bundle of linen, pillows, blanket, sheets, and various trash he was gathering together and tying up, and rushed headlong from the room. Mr. Goliadkin meanwhile snatched out the letter once again—but was unable to read it. Clutching his victorious head in both hands, he leaned against the wall in amazement.
He was unable to think of anything, he was also unable to do anything; he did not know what was happening to him. Finally, seeing that time was passing and no Petrushka or fur coat appeared, Mr. Goliadkin decided to go himself. Opening the door to the front hall, he heard noise, talk, argument, and discussion downstairs…Several neighbor women were babbling, shouting, argling and bargling about something—and Mr. Goliadkin knew precisely what about.
Petrushka’s voice was heard, then someone’s footsteps. “My God! They’ll invite the whole world here!” moaned Mr. Goliadkin, wringing his hands in despair and rushing back to his room. Running into his room, he fell almost oblivious onto the sofa, his face buried in a cushion. After lying like that for a moment, he jumped up and, not waiting for Petrushka, put on his galoshes, his hat, his overcoat, seized his wallet, and ran headlong down the stairs.
“Nothing’s needed, nothing, my dear! I’ll do it myself, all myself. There’s no need for you right now, and meanwhile maybe the affair will get settled for the best,” Mr. Goliadkin murmured to Petrushka, meeting him on the stairs; then he ran out to the yard and away from the house; his heart was sinking; he was still undecided…What should he do, how should he behave, how should he act in this present and critical case…
“This is it! How to act, oh, Lord God? And all this just had to happen!” he finally cried in despair, hobbling down the street wherever his legs carried him, “it all just had to happen! If it weren’t for this, precisely for this, everything would have been settled; all at once, at one stroke, one deft, energetic, firm stroke, it would have been settled. I’d let them cut my finger off that it would have been settled. And I even know in precisely what way it would have been settled.
Here’s how it would be: I’d say such and such—thus and so, but for me, my good sir, with your permission, it’s neither here nor there; say, things aren’t done this way; say, my good sir, my very dear sir, things aren’t done this way, and imposture doesn’t get anywhere with us; an impostor, my good sir, is a man who 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 émigrée Falbala28 of some sort; and she learns all kinds of good things from the émigrée 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
