Nikolai Gogol - Dead Souls

The agreeable lady wanted very much to ferret out further details concerning the abduction, such as the hour and so on, but that was wanting too much. The lady agreeable in all respects responded with outright ignorance. She was incapable of lying: to suppose something or other—that was a different matter, but then only in case the supposition was based on inner conviction; if she did feel an inner conviction, then she was capable of standing up for herself, and if some whiz of a lawyer, famous for his gift of refuting other people's arguments, went and tried to compete with her—he would see what inner conviction means.

That both ladies finally became decidedly convinced of what they had first supposed only as a supposition is in no way extraordinary. Our sort—intelligent folk, as we call ourselves—act in almost the same way, and our learned reasoning serves as proof of it. At first the scholar sidles up to it with extraordinary lowliness; he begins timidly, with moderation, starting from the most humble inquiry: "Can it be from there? Was it not from that corner that such and such a country took its name?" or "Does this document not belong to some other, later time?" or "Should we not take this people as in fact meaning that people?" He immediately quotes one or another ancient writer, and as soon as he sees some hint, or something he takes for a hint, he sets off at a trot and plucks up his courage; he converses with ancient writers on familiar terms, he asks them questions and even answers for them himself, forgetting entirely that he started with a timid supposition; it already seems to him that he can see it, that it is clear—and the reasoning concludes with the words: "This is how it was, this is the people that must be meant, this is the point of view to take on the subject!" Then, proclaimed publicly, from the podium, the newly discovered truth goes traveling all over the world, gathering followers and admirers.

At that moment, just as the ladies so successfully and cleverly resolved this tangled state of affairs, the prosecutor entered the drawing room with his eternally motionless physiognomy, bushy eyebrows, and blinking eye. The ladies began vying with each other in informing him of all the events, told him about the purchase of the dead souls, the intention to carry off the governor's daughter, and got him completely bewildered, so that no matter how long he went on standing on one and the same spot, batting his left eye, flicking his beard with a handkerchief to brush off the snuff, he could understand decidedly nothing. With that the two ladies left him and set out each in her own direction to rouse the town. They managed to accomplish this enterprise in a little over half an hour. The town was decidedly aroused; all was in ferment, though no one could understand anything. The ladies managed to blow so much smoke in everyone's eyes that for a while everyone, the officials especially, remained dumbfounded. Their position for the first moment was like that of a sleeping schoolboy whose comrades, getting up earlier, have put a hussar in his nose—that is, a rolled-up paper filled with snuff. Unwittingly inhaling all the snuff with all the zeal of a still-sleeping man, he awakes, jumps up, stares like a fool, goggle-eyed, in all directions, unable to understand where he is or what has happened, and only then notices the indirect ray of sun shining on the wall, the laughter of his comrades hiding in the corners, and the dawning day looking in the window, the awakened forest sounding with the voices of thousands of birds, the light shining on the river, disappearing now and then in its gleaming curlicues amid the slender rushes, all strewn with naked children calling others to come for a swim, and only then finally feels the hussar sitting in his nose. This was precisely the position of the inhabitants and officials of the town for the first moment. Each of them stood like a sheep, goggling his eyes. The dead souls, the governor's daughter, and Chichikov got confused and mixed up in their heads extraordinarily strangely; and only later, after the first befuddlement, did they begin to distinguish them, as it were, and separate them from one another, did they begin to demand an accounting and to be angry that the matter refused to explain itself. What was this riddle, indeed, what was this riddle of the dead souls? There was no logic whatsoever in dead souls. Why buy dead souls? Where would such a fool be found? What worn-out money would one pay for them? To what end, to what business, could these dead souls be tacked? And why was the governor's daughter mixed up in it? If he wanted to carry her off, why buy dead souls for that? And if he was buying dead souls, why carry off the governor's daughter? Did he want to make her a gift of these dead souls, or what? What was this nonsense, really, that had been spread around town? What was this tendency, that before you could turn around there was already a story let out? And if only there were any sense . . . They did spread it, however, so there must have been some reason? But what was the reason for the dead souls? There even was no reason. It was all a mere cock-and-bull story, nonsense, balderdash, soft-boiled boots! Mere devil take it! . . . In short, there was talk and more talk, and the whole town started chattering about the dead souls and the governor's daughter, about Chichikov and the dead souls, about the governor's daughter and Chichikov, and everything there arose. Like a whirlwind the hitherto apparently slumbering town blew up! Out of their holes crept all the sluggards and sloths, who had been lying at home in their dressing gowns for several years, shifting the blame now onto the cobbler for making their boots too tight, now onto the tailor, now onto the drunken coachman. All those who had long since stopped all acquaintances and kept company only with the landowners Zavalishin and Polezhaev (well-known terms derived from the verbs polezhat, "to lie down," and zavalitsa, "to slump into bed," which are very popular in our Russia, as is the phrase about stopping to see Sopikov and Khrapovitsky, meaning all sorts of dead sleep—on your side, on your back, and in every other position, with snorting, nose whistling, and other accessories); all those who could not be lured out of the house even by an invitation to slurp up a five-hundred-rouble fish soup with a five-foot-long sterlet and various savory, melt-in-the-mouth pies; in short, it turned out that the town was populous, and big, and well inhabited. Some Sysoy Pafnutievich and Makdonald Karlovich appeared, of whom no one had ever heard; in the drawing rooms some long, long fellow with a bullet through his arm began sticking up, so tall that no one had ever seen the like. On the streets covered droshkies appeared, wagonettes previously unknown, rattletraps, wheel-squeakers—and the pot began to boil. At another time and under other circumstances, such rumors would perhaps not have attracted any attention; but the town of N. had not heard any news at all for a long time. Over the past three months there had even been nothing of what are called commérages [45] Commérages is French for the gossip spread by commères, inquisitive, chatty women. in the capitals, which, as everyone knows, is the same for a town as the timely delivery of food supplies. It suddenly turned out that the town's wits were divided into two completely opposite opinions, and suddenly two opposite parties were formed—the men's party and the women's party. The men's party, the more witless of the two, paid attention to the dead souls. The women's party occupied itself exclusively with the abduction of the governor's daughter. It must be noted to the ladies' credit that there was incomparably more order and circumspection in their party. Clearly, it is their very function to be good mistresses and managers. Everything with them soon took on a lively, definite look, was clothed in clear and obvious forms, explained, purified—in short, the result was a finished picture. It turned out that Chichikov had long been in love, and that they met in the garden by moonlight, that the governor would even have given him his daughter in marriage, because Chichikov was rich as a Jew, had it not been for the wife he had abandoned (where they found out that Chichikov was married—of this no one had any idea), that his wife, suffering from hopeless love, had written a most moving letter to the governor, and that Chichikov, seeing that the father and mother would never give their consent, had resolved on abduction. In other houses, it was told somewhat differently: that Chichikov did not have any wife, but, being a subtle man who acted only when certain of himself, he had undertaken, in order to win the hand of the daughter, to start an affair with the mother, had had a secret amorous liaison with her, and afterwards had made a declaration concerning the daughter's hand; but the mother, frightened that a crime against religion might be committed, and feeling pangs of conscience, had flatly refused, and this was why Chichikov had resolved on abduction. Many explanations and emendations were added to all this as the rumors finally penetrated into the remotest back alleys. In Russia, the lower society likes very much to discuss the gossip that occurs in high society, and so people started discussing it all in such hovels as had never known or set eyes on Chichikov, and there were additions and still further explanations. The subject became more entertaining every moment, assumed more definitive forms every day, and finally, just as it was, in all its definitiveness, was delivered into the very ears of the governor's wife. The governor's wife, as the mother of a family, as the first lady of the town, and finally as a lady who had never suspected anything of the sort, was thoroughly insulted by such stories, and felt an indignation in all respects justified. The poor blonde endured the most disagreeable tête-à-tête any sixteen-year-old girl had ever endured. Whole streams of queries, inquiries, reprimands, threats, reproaches, and admonishments poured out, so that the girl burst into tears, sobbed, and could not understand a single word; the doorkeeper was given the strictest orders not to admit Chichikov at any time or on any account.