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Updated: June 6, 2025
Henceforth I will have nothing to do with you, you cobbler, you dirty blacksmith! Porphyri, go and tell the ostler to give the gentleman's horses no oats, but only hay." This development Chichikov had hardly expected. "And do you," added Nozdrev to his guest, "get out of my sight."
"Some of the men have quite lost their heads about her, but for my part I think her not worth noticing." "Of course. And her manners are unbearable. But what puzzles me most is how a travelled man like Chichikov could come to let himself in for such an affair. Surely he must have accomplices?" "Yes; and I should say that one of those accomplices is Nozdrev." "Surely not?"
Of a surety the scheme was not one which ought to have been confided to a man like Nozdrev, for he was a worthless fellow who might lie about it, and append additions to it, and spread such stories as would give rise to God knows what scandals. "This is indeed bad!" Chichikov said to himself. "I have been an absolute fool."
But no preparations whatsoever had been made for the guest's reception, for on some wooden trestles in the centre of the dining-room a couple of peasants were engaged in whitewashing the ceiling and drawling out an endless song as they splashed their stuff about the floor. Hastily bidding peasants and trestles to be gone, Nozdrev departed to another room with further instructions.
Next, the party looked at a Crimean bitch which, though blind and fast nearing her end, had, two years ago, been a truly magnificent dog. At all events, so said Nozdrev. Next came another bitch also blind; then an inspection of the water-mill, which lacked the spindle-socket wherein the upper stone ought to have been revolving "fluttering," to use the Russian peasant's quaint expression.
Then came a barrel-organ, on which Nozdrev started to play some tune or another. For a while the sounds were not wholly unpleasing, but suddenly something seemed to go wrong, for a mazurka started, to be followed by "Marlborough has gone to the war," and to this, again, there succeeded an antiquated waltz.
Just as Nozdrev uttered the words Porphyri entered with a fresh bottle of liquor; but Chichikov declined either to play or to drink. "Why do you refuse to play?" asked Nozdrev. "Because I feel indisposed to do so. Moreover, I must confess that I am no great hand at cards." "WHY are you no great hand at them?" Chichikov shrugged his shoulders. "Because I am not," he replied.
Just as he was returning from his errand he encountered Nozdrev, clad in a dressing-gown, and holding a pipe between his teeth. Host and guest greeted one another in friendly fashion, and Nozdrev inquired how Chichikov had slept. "Fairly well," replied Chichikov, but with a touch of dryness in his tone. "The same with myself," said Nozdrev.
"It cannot be long since you purchased it, for it never USED to be yours." "Yes, it isn't long since I purchased it," said Nozdrev. "How long?" "How long? Why, I purchased it three days ago, and gave a pretty sum for it, as the devil knows!" "Indeed? Why, three days ago you were at the fair?" "Wiseacre! Cannot one be at a fair and buy land at the same time?
Also, long after Nozdrev had ceased to turn the handle, one particularly shrill-pitched pipe which had, throughout, refused to harmonise with the rest kept up a protracted whistling on its own account. Finally, after some hors-d'oeuvres of sturgeon's back, they sat down to table the time being then nearly five o'clock.
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