Nikolai Gogol - Dead Souls

Nozdryov was in a certain respect a storied man. Not one gathering he attended went by without some story. Some sort of story inevitably occurred: either he was taken under the arm and removed from the hall by gendarmes, or his own friends were obliged to throw him out. And if that did not happen, then something else did, of a sort that never happened to others: either he would get so potted at the buffet that he could do nothing but laugh, or he would pour out such a wicked pack of lies that he would finally become ashamed himself. And he lied absolutely without any need: he would suddenly tell about a horse he had of some blue or pink color, or similar nonsense, so that his listeners would all finally walk away, saying: "Well, brother, it seems you've started talking through your hat." There exist people who have something of a passion for doing dirt to their neighbor, sometimes without any reason. One, for example, even a man of a certain rank, with a noble appearance, with a star on his breast, will press your hands, will get to talking with you about profound subjects that invite reflection, and then, lo and behold, right there, before your very eyes, he does you dirt. And he does you dirt like a mere collegiate registrar, not at all like a man with a star on his breast who talks about subjects that invite reflection, so that you just stand there marveling, shrugging your shoulders, and nothing more. Nozdryov, too, had this strange passion. The closer you got with him, the sooner he would muck things up for you: spread some cock-and-bull story, than which it would be hard to invent a stupider, thwart a wedding or a business deal, and yet by no means consider himself your enemy; on the contrary, if chance should bring him together with you again, he would again treat you in a friendly way, and even say: "What a scoundrel you are, you never come to see me." Nozdryov was in many respects a many-sided man, that is, a Jack-of-all-trades. In the same moment he would offer to go with you wherever you please, even to the ends of the earth, join in any undertaking you like, trade whatever there was for whatever you like. A gun, a dog, a horse—everything was up for trade, but not at all with a view to gain: it came simply from some irrepressible briskness and friskiness of character. If he was lucky enough to come across a simpleton at a fair and beat him at cards, he would buy up a heap of all that had first caught his eye in the shops: yokes, scented candles, kerchiefs for the nanny, a colt, raisins, a silver washbasin, Holland linen, cake flour, tobacco, pistols, herring, paintings, a grindstone, crockery, boots, faience dishes—for all the money he had. However, it rarely happened that these things got brought home; almost the same day it would all be gambled away to another, luckier player, sometimes even with the addition of his own pipe, tobacco pouch and mouthpiece included, or another time with his entire four-in-hand, everything included: coach and coachman—so that the master himself had to set out in a short frock coat or a striped smock to look for some friend and use his carriage. Such was Nozdryov! People may call him a trite character, they may say that Nozdryov is no more. Alas! mistaken will they be who say so. It will be long before Nozdryov passes from this world. He is among us everywhere, and is perhaps only wearing a different caftan; but people are light-mindedly unperceptive, and a man in a different caftan seems to them a different man.

Meanwhile, the three carriages had already driven up to the porch of Nozdryov's house. No preparations had been made in the house for receiving them. In the middle of the dining room stood wooden trestles, and two muzhiks were standing on them, whitewashing the walls, intoning some endless song; the floor was all spattered with whitewash. Nozdryov straightaway ordered the muzhiks and trestles out and ran to the other room to give commands. The guests heard him ordering dinner from the cook; realizing this, Chichikov, who was already beginning to feel slightly hungry, understood that they would not sit down to table before five o'clock. Nozdryov, returning to his guests, took them around to look at everything there was to be seen on his estate, and in a little over two hours had shown them decidedly everything, so that there was nothing else left to show. First of all they went to look at the stables, where they saw two mares, one a dapple-gray the other a light chestnut, then a bay stallion, a homely sight, but for whom Nozdryov swore by God he had paid ten thousand.

"You didn't pay ten thousand for him," the in-law observed. "He's not worth even one."

"By God, I paid ten thousand," said Nozdryov.

"You can swear by God all you want," the in-law replied.

"Well, if you want, we can bet on it!" said Nozdryov.

The in-law did not want to bet.

Then Nozdryov showed them the empty stalls where there had also been good horses once. In the same stable they saw a billy goat, which, according to an old belief, it was considered necessary to keep with horses, and who seemed to be getting along well with them, strolling under their bellies as if he was right at home. Then Nozdryov took them to see a wolf cub that he kept tied up. "There's the wolf cub!" he said. "I feed him raw meat on purpose. I want to make an utter beast of him!" They went to look at the pond, in which, according to Nozdryov's words, there lived fish so big that it was hard for two men to pull one out, which the relative, however, did not fail to doubt. "I'm going to show you, Chichikov," said Nozdryov, "a most excellent pair of dogs: the strength of their hunkers simply fills one with amazement, their snouts are like needles!"—and he led them to a very prettily constructed little house, surrounded by a big yard fenced on all sides. Having entered the yard, they saw there all sorts of dogs, longhaired and short-haired, of every possible color and coat: tawny, black and tan, tan-spotted, tawny-spotted, red-spotted, black-eared, gray-eared . . . There were all sorts of names, all sorts of imperatives: Shoot, Scold, Flutter, Fire, Fop, Boast, Roast, Coast, Arrow, Swallow, Prize, Patroness. Nozdryov was amid them just like a father amid his family; they all shot up their tails, which dog fanciers calls sweeps, flew straight to meet the guests, and began to greet them. A good ten of them put their paws on Nozdryov's shoulders. Scold displayed the same friendliness towards Chichikov and, getting up on his hind legs, licked him right on the lips with his tongue, so that Chichikov straightaway spat. They looked at the dogs that filled one with amazement with the strength of their hunkers—fine dogs they were. Then they went to look at a Crimean bitch that was now blind and, according to Nozdryov, would soon die, but some two years ago had been a very fine bitch; they looked at the bitch as well—the bitch was, indeed, blind. Then they went to look at a water mill with a missing flutterer, in which the upper millstone is set and turns rapidly on a spindle—"flutters," in the wonderful expression of the Russian muzhik.

"And soon we'll be coming to the smithy!" said Nozdryov.

Going on a bit further, they indeed saw a smithy; and they looked at the smithy as well.

"In this field here," said Nozdryov, pointing his finger at the field, "it's so thick with hares you can't see the ground; I myself caught one by the hind legs with my bare hands."

"No, you couldn't catch a hare with your bare hands!" observed the in-law.

"But I did catch one, I caught one on purpose!" replied Nozdryov. "Now," he went on, turning to Chichikov, "I'll take you for a look at the boundary where my land ends."

Nozdryov led his guests across the field, which in many places consisted of tussocks. The guests had to make their way between fallow land and ploughed fields. Chichikov was beginning to get tired. In many places water squeezed out from under their feet, so low-lying the place was. At first they were careful and stepped cautiously, but then, seeing that it served no purpose, they plodded straight on without choosing between greater and lesser mud. Having gone a considerable distance, they indeed saw a boundary, which consisted of a wooden post and a narrow ditch.