everyone, surely», Oblomov observed lazily.
«Do come, my dear fellow! Sofya Nikolayevna and Lydia will be alone in the carriage, and the seat opposite is entirely at your disposal».
«No, that seat is too small for me. And, besides, what on earth am I going to do there?»
«Very well, in that case Misha could hire another horse for you».
«The things he thinks of!» Oblomov said, almost to himself. «Why are you so interested in the Goryunovs?»
«Oh!» Volkov said, flushing crimson. «Shall I tell you?»
«Do».
«You won’t tell anyone – on your word of honour?» Volkov went on, sitting down on the sofa beside him.
«I won't».
«I–I’m in love with Lydia», he whispered.
«Bravo! How long? – She’s 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 don’t know Dashenka? Why, the whole town is crazy about her dancing. To-night I’m going to the ballet with him: he wants to throw a bouquet on to the stage. I must introduce him into society. He’s so shy – a novice. Oh, good Lord, I have got to go and buy some camelias».
«Whatever for? You’d better come and dine with me. We’d have a talk. I’m afraid two awful things have happened to me…»
«Sorry, I can’t. I’m dining at Prince Tyumenev’s. The Goryunovs will be there and she – my darling Lydia», he added in a whisper. «Why have you given up the prince? It’s such a gay house! So wealthy! And their country cottage! Buried in flowers! They’ve added a balcony to it – gothique. I understand they’re going to have dances there in the summer – tableaux vivants! You’ll be coming, won’t you?»
«No, I don’t 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.
«It’s all Zakhar’s fault!» Oblomov complained.
«Well, I must be off», said Volkov. «Must get those camelias for Misha’s bouquet. Au revoir».
«Come and have tea with me in the evening, after the ballet, and tell me all about it», Oblomov invited him.
«I’m sorry, I’ve promised to go to the Mussinskys’; it’s their At Home to-day. Won’t you come, too? I’ll introduce you».
«No, thank you. What should I do there?»
«At the Mussinskys’? Why, half the town is there! What should you do there? It’s a house where they talk about everything».
«That’s what I find so boring – talking about everything», said Oblomov.
«Well, why don’t 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».
«There’s 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. I’m engaged every day of the week», Volkov concluded with shining eyes.
«And don’t you find it exhausting to go rushing about day after day?»
«Exhausting? Good Lord, no! It’s 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 doesn’t require my presence at the office.
All I’m supposed to do is to have dinner twice a week with the head of my department. Then I go visiting people I haven’t seen some time – well, then – er – there’s 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 I’m in love – summer is coming – Misha has been promised leave – we’ll 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 – I’m in a hurry», Volkov replied. «Another time! But won’t you come with me and have some oysters? You’ll 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 haven’t got to wrestle for two hours trying to button your glove. You just pull the lace and it’s done. It’s 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, isn’t it?» he asked, picking out one of his trinkets. «A visiting-card with a corner turned down».
«Can’t 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. I’ve 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. «What’s there left of the man? What is he wasting and frittering himself away for? No doubt it’s nice to look in at the theatre, and fall in love with some Lydia – she’s very charming! Pick flowers with her in the country, go shooting
