Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (452 page)

Tropachev: Oh, nonsense! [Drinks himself.] To your health. [Kuzovkin gets up, bows, and drinks.] Well, why don’t you drink? That isn’t fair. You are apt to spoil the whole fun!

Kuzovkin: What can I do? It is already over a year since I gave up getting even information. [Teopachev shakes his head.] It is true, I have a man there. ... I am relying upon him. However, the Lord knows what he is doing!

Teopachev [looking at Eletski]: Who is the man, may I know?

Kuzovkin: By right, I ought not to tell, but ... his name is Lychkov, Ivan Arkhipych.

Teopachev: I don’t know who he is.

Kuzovkin: He is a country attorney — that is, he used to be an attorney — not around here though. Now he does a little business.

Teopachev [continuing to look at Eletski, to whom Kuzovkin is beginning to look funny]: And this gentleman, Lychkov, promised to help you?

Kuzovkin [after a short silence]: He promised. I was the god - father of his second boy, and that’s why he promised me. He said that he’d fix that for me all right. Ivan Arkhipych is a well - known specialist in that line.

Teopachev: Is that so?

Kuzovkin: He is known all over the state.

Tropachev: But you say that he doesn’t practice law any more — he is engaged in business.

Kuzovkin: That’s true. But that’s the way things happen. And he is a real good man. I haven’t seen him in a long time.

Tbopachev: How long?

Kuzovkin: It will be a little over a year.

Tropachev: How neglectful you are. That isn’t good.

Kuzovkin: You speak the truth, but what can I do?

Eletski: Tell us what the trouble is.

Kuzovkin [coughing a little and growing a little angry]: The case is this, Pavel Nikolaich. Pardon my effrontery, but . . . well, you asked me to tell you. The case is this: The village Vietrovo ... I must confess that never in my life have I spoken in the presence of a dignitary . . . you’ll pardon me if I say something . . .

Eletski: Speak, speak freely!

Tropachev [pointing to Karpachov to look out for Kuzovkin’s glass]: Won’t you have another drink?

Kuzovkin: No. Permit me . . .

Tropachev: Just for a little courage.

Kuzovkin: Well, for the sake of a little courage . . . [He drinks and wipes his forehead with his handkerchief.] And so I dare to report that the village Vietrovo, about which we have been talking, that this village I inherited straight from my grandfather, Kuzovkin, Maksim, Major Maksim. Maybe you have heard of him. He was the brother of my father, Semen, and my uncle Niktopolion. My father with his own brother, and my uncle never separated their possessions while they were alive, and my uncle died and left no children, left no children — that’s what I want you to remember — but he died after my father died, and they had a sister, Katerina, and this Katerina married a man by the name of Iagushkin, Porfiri, and this Iagushkin had from his first wife, who was a Polish woman, a son by the name of Ilia, who was a drunkard and a scamp, and to whom my uncle, Niktopolion, as the gossip came from Sister Katerina, gave a note for a thousand and seven hundred rubles, and Katerina herself gave to her husband, Porfiri, a note for a thousand and seven hundred rubles, and a note from my father for two thousand rubles endorsed by the district judge, Galush - kin, and his wife. Just at that time, my faher — blessed be his memory! — died; then the notes were turned over for collection. Niktopolion tried to avoid payment this way and that way, then he said that he had not divided the property with his nephew. Katerina demanded a fourteenth part. The government taxes also appeared for collection. It was trouble upon trouble. Galushkin’s wife demanded payment upon her note. Niktopolion said that the nephew had to pay that note, but I wasn’t of age, and how could I be responsible for notes? Galushkin sent the matter to court. The Polish woman’s son also turned the matter over to court, not even sparing his stepmother. He said that he wouldn’t come down any from the face value. He said that she had got the servant, Akulin, into the habit of drinking. Thus the porridge was cooked up. Petition after petition went to court. They went to the local courts, then to the state courts; from the state courts again into the local courts, with all kinds of inscriptions on them, and after the death of Niktopolion, the matter became even worse. I demanded the possession of my estate, and the command came that for the back taxes the village of Vietrovo should be sold at auction. The German Hanginmeister proclaimed his rights . . . and the peasants came running from all sides like partridges. The County leader gave me a calling - down, and said that I must be put under a conservator, but under what conservator . . . how? The rightful heir was not given possession ... his own stepmother brought in a complaint against Ilia to the Senate (highest court).

[The general laughter confuses Kuzovkin and he stops talking. Trembinski, who very attentively has looked after the welfare of the master and his company, laughs out heartily. Petr lets out a very foolish laugh while standing in the doorway. Karpachov laughs in a deep voice, but with some precaution. Tropachev laughs unrestrainedly. Eletski laughs somewhat contemptuously and winks his eyes. Ivanov alone, who all the time has kept pulling Kuzovkin by the coat, sits there with his head hanging low.]

Eletski [to Kuzovkin while laughing]: Continue — why did you stop?

Tropachev: Please continue.

Kuzovkin: I . . . Pardon me ... I broke the peace . . . I know . . .

Tropachev: I see what’s the matter. . . . You’re afraid, isn’t that right . . . you’re afraid?

Kuzovkin [in a low voice]: That’s right, that’s right.

Tropachev: Well, we can fix that for you. [Lifting up an empty bottle.] Waiter! Let’s have some more wine. [To Eletski.] Vous permettez?

Eletski: Certainly, help yourself. [To Trembinski.] Is there any champagne?

Tbembinski: Yes, sir, there is. [He runs to the cooler and brings it up to the table quickly. Kuzovkin smiles and takes hold of the button of his own coat.]

Tropachev [to Kuzovkin]: That isn’t nice, my esteemed man. To be afraid, while in respectable company, isn’t good manners. [To Eletski, pointing to the cooler.] How’s this? It’s almost frozen. Mais c’est magnifique! [Fills up the glass.] This is undoubtedly good wine. [To Kuzovkin.] This is for you. Don’t refuse. Well, you got mixed up a little bit, but what of it? Pavel Nikolaich, tell him to drink . . .

Eletski: To the health of the future owner of Vietrovo! Drink, Vasili Aleksieich.

[Kuzovkin drinks.]

Teopachev: Now, for this I love you. [He and Eletski get up. After them, all get up and walk to the front of the stage.] What an excellent lunch we have had! [To Kuzovkin.] Well, what’s the result? Who are you litigating with now, hm?

Kuzovkin [beginning to feel the influence of the wine]: With Hanginmeister’s heirs, of course.

Teopachev: Who is that gentleman?

Kuzovkin: It’s self - evident he’s a German. He bought all the notes, though people say that he simply took them away. I am really of the same opinion. He frightened the women - folks and took them away from them.

Tropachev: What was Katerina doing? And what was Ilia doing while he was taking the notes away from them?

Kuzovkin: Oh, they are all dead now. The Polish woman’s son burned to death in a gin - mill, while he was drunk on the highroad, on account of a fire. [To Ivanov.] Stop pulling me by the coat! I am in the presence of gentlemen, and as it is demanded of me, I will explain myself. They are calling for an explanation. There’s nothing bad about it.

Eletski: Leave him alone, Gospodin Ivanov. We are rather enjoying listening to him.

Kuzovkin [to Ivanov]: That’s it. [To Eletski and Teopachev.] Gentlemen, what do I ask now? Really, all I ask is justice. A legal form of things. I am not selfish. What’s the use of being selfish? The Lord be with them! Judge yourself. If I am to blame — well, then I’m to blame — and if I am right, well, just say that I’m right.

Tropachev [interrupting him]: Another glass?

Kuzovkin: No, I am extremely much obliged. What do I ask . . .?

Tropachev: If that’s the case, let me embrace you.

Kuzovkin [not ivithout a little amazement]: You are doing me a great honor. ... I am extremely . i„ .

Tropachev: No, I like you very much. . . . [He embraces him and holds him that way for a few minutes.] I should love to kiss you now, but on second thought I believe I had better wait a little.

Kuzovkin: As you like.

Tropachev [winking at Karpachov]: Well, Karpach, now it is your turn.

Karpachov [with deep laughter]: Well, Vasili Semenych, let me press you to my heart. . . . [Embraces Kuzovkin, and turns around with him. Everybody is laughing according to his individual characteristic laughter.]

Kuzovkin [tearing himself away from Karpachov’s embrace]: Enough for you!

Karpachov: Don’t be so stubborn. [To Tropachev.] You Flegont Alexandrych, tell him to sing a song. He is a first - class singer.

Tropachev: Do you sing, my friend? Oh, please, show us your talent.

Kuzovkin [to Karpachov]: What are you trying to think up about me? I’m no singer.

Karpachov: You used to sing at the table when the old master was alive, didn’t you?

Kuzovkin [in a lower voice]: When the master was alive, yes, but I have grown very old since that time. I am an old man now.

Tropachev: Why, you are not an old man!

Karpachov [pointing to Kuzovkin]: You sang and danced.

Tropachev: Is that so? Hm! I see you are quite a fellow. Now be a friend and . . . [To Eletski.] C’est un peu vulgaire. Well, it’s in the country. [Aloud to Kuzovkin.] What are you waiting for? Start. [Begins to sing.] “On the street . . .” Well, why don’t you start?

Kuzovkin: Please don’t ask me to do it.

Tropachev: What an obstinate fellow you are! Eletski, you tell him to do it.

Eletski [in an undecided tone]: Vasili Semenych, why don’t you want to sing a little now?

Kuzovkin: My singing days are over, Pavel Nikolaich. Don’t ask me, please.

Trembinski [listening and smiling at all present]: If I remember, it was at the wedding of his brother, — [pointing to Ivanov] — that you quite distinguished yourself.

Tropachev: I told you so.

Trembinski: In a squatting position you danced across the room.

Teopachev: If that’s the case, you can’t refuse now. Why do you want to insult me and Pavel Nikolaich?

Kuzovkin: That was of my own free will.

Tropachev: And now, we are asking you. You must take into consideration that your refusal may be attributed to your lack of appreciation, and the lack of appreciation is a mean vice.