«You wont tell anyone on your word of honour?» Volkov went on, sitting down on the sofa beside him.
«I won't».
«IIm in love with Lydia», he whispered.
«Bravo! How long? Shes very charming, I believe».
«For three weeks», Volkov said with a deep sigh. «And Misha is in love with Dashenka».
«Which Dashenka?»
«Where have you been, Oblomov? You dont know Dashenka? Why, the whole town is crazy about her dancing. To-night Im going to the ballet with him: he wants to throw a bouquet on to the stage. I must introduce him into society. Hes so shy a novice. Oh, good Lord, I have got to go and buy some camelias».
«Whatever for? Youd better come and dine with me. Wed have a talk. Im afraid two awful things have happened to me»
«Sorry, I cant. Im dining at Prince Tyumenevs. The Goryunovs will be there and she my darling Lydia», he added in a whisper. «Why have you given up the prince? Its such a gay house! So wealthy! And their country cottage! Buried in flowers! Theyve added a balcony to it gothique. I understand theyre going to have dances there in the summer tableaux vivants! Youll be coming, wont you?»
«No, I dont think I will».
«Oh, what a splendid house! On their Wednesday at homes last winter there were never fewer than fifty people there sometimes, indeed, there were as many as a hundred!»
«Good heavens, I can imagine how horribly boring it must have been».
«Boring! How can you say that? The more the merrier. Lydia, too, used to come, but I never noticed her there, then suddenly -
In vain to banish her from my mind I try,
And by reason, my passion to tame»
he sang, and without thinking sat down in the arm-chair, but jumped up immediately and began dusting his clothes.
«How awfully dusty your room is!» he said.
«Its all Zakhars fault!» Oblomov complained.
«Well, I must be off», said Volkov. «Must get those camelias for Mishas bouquet. Au revoir».
«Come and have tea with me in the evening, after the ballet, and tell me all about it», Oblomov invited him.
«Im sorry, Ive promised to go to the Mussinskys; its their At Home to-day. Wont you come, too? Ill introduce you».
«No, thank you. What should I do there?»
«At the Mussinskys? Why, half the town is there! What should you do there? Its a house where they talk about everything».
«Thats what I find so boring talking about everything», said Oblomov.
«Well, why dont you go to the Mezdrovs?» Volkov interrupted him. «There they talk about one thing only art. All you hear there is the Venetian school, Bach and Beethoven, Leonardo da Vinci»
«Always the same thing how boring!» said Oblomov with a yawn. «Pedants, I suppose».
«Theres no pleasing you. Why, there are hundreds of houses you can go to. Everyone has definite visiting days now: the Savinovs have dinners on Thursdays, the Maklashins on Fridays, the Vyaznikovs on Sundays, Prince Tyumenev on Wednesdays. Im engaged every day of the week», Volkov concluded with shining eyes.
«And dont you find it exhausting to go rushing about day after day?»
«Exhausting? Good Lord, no! Its great fun!» Volkov said happily. «In the morning I read the papers one must be au courant with everything, know the news. Thank heavens my job in the Civil Service doesnt require my presence at the office.
All Im supposed to do is to have dinner twice a week with the head of my department. Then I go visiting people I havent seen some time well, then er theres always a new actress in the Russian or in the French theatre. The opera season will be opening soon and I shall book seats for it. And now Im in love summer is coming Misha has been promised leave well go for a month to their estate for a change. We can do some shooting there. They have splendid neighbours who give bals champêtres. Lydia and I will go for walks in the woods, go boating, pick flowers Oh!» and he spun round and round with delight. «However, I must be off. Good-bye», he said, trying in vain to have a good look at himself in the dusty mirror.
«Wait a moment», Oblomov tried to stop him. «I wanted to talk business with you».
«Sorry Im in a hurry», Volkov replied. «Another time! But wont you come with me and have some oysters? Youll be able to tell me all about it then. Come, Misha is treating us».
«No, thank you», said Oblomov.
«Good-bye, then».
He walked to the door and came back.
«Have you seen this?» he asked, showing him a hand in a marvellously fitting glove.
«What is it?» asked Oblomov, looking perplexed.
«The new lacets. You see how wonderfully they fit. You havent got to wrestle for two hours trying to button your glove. You just pull the lace and its done. Its just arrived from Paris. Would you like me to bring you a pair to try?»
«All right, bring me a pair», said Oblomov.
«And have a look at this. Very charming, isnt it?» he asked, picking out one of his trinkets. «A visiting-card with a corner turned down».
«Cant make out the inscription».
«Pr. Prince M. Michel», Volkov said. «There was no room for the surname Tyumenev. He gave this to me instead of an Easter egg. But good-bye au revoir. Ive another ten calls to make. Oh, how gay life is!»
And he vanished.
«Ten visits in one day the poor wretch!» thought Oblomov. «And this is life!» he shrugged his shoulders. «Whats there left of the man? What is he wasting and frittering himself away for? No doubt its nice to look in at the theatre, and fall in love with some Lydia shes very charming! Pick flowers with her in the country, go shooting theres nothing wrong with that. But make ten calls in one day poor wretch!» he concluded, turning over on his back, glad that he had no such empty thoughts and desires, that he did not rush about, but lay in bed, preserving his peace and his human dignity.
Another ring at the door interrupted his thoughts. A new visitor came in.
It was a man in a dark green frock-coat, with brass embossed buttons, his cleanly-shaven, worn-out face framed evenly by a pair of dark side-whiskers; he had tired, but calm and thoughtful, eyes, and a pensive smile.
«Good morning, Sudbinsky», Oblomov greeted him gaily. «So youve come at last to see your old colleague! Dont come near dont come near youre straight from the cold street!»
«How are you, Oblomov? Ive long been meaning to call on you», said the visitor, «but you know how devilishly busy I am. Look Im taking a caseful of official papers to the office to report on. And Ive told the courier to come straight here if I should be asked for. I havent a moment to myself».
«Youre going to your office at this hour? Why so late?» asked Oblomov. «You used to be there at ten oclock».
«I used to yes. But now its different: I drive there at twelve». He emphasized the word «drive.
Oh, I see, said Oblomov. Youre head of a department! Since when?
Sudbinsky nodded significantly.
Since Easter, he said. But the amount of work its dreadful! From eight to twelve at home, from twelve to five at the office, and more work in the evening. Never see anyone!
Well, well! Head of a department so thats it! said Oblomov. Congratulations! What a fellow! And we used to be office clerks together. I shouldnt be surprised if you were made a State Counsellor next year.