„Oh, it’s dreadful, dreadful! But of course with a man like the vice-director of our department it’s a pleasure. He never fails to reward a good and conscientious official for faithful service, and he doesn’t forget those who don’t do any work, either. Those who have done their term of service he recommends for promotion; and for those who aren’t due for promotion or the conferment of an order he’ll try to get a bonus“.
„What salary do you get?“
„Oh, nothing much. One thousand two hundred salary, seven hundred and fifty for board, six hundred for lodgings, five hundred for travelling expenses, and up to a thousand in bonuses“.
„Good God!“ Oblomov exclaimed, jumping off the bed. „It isn’t singing you’re doing, is it? Why, you earn as much as an Italian opera singer!“
„Oh, that’s nothing! Peresvetov receives additional remuneration, and he does less work than I – and he can’t make head or tail of anything. But then of course he hasn’t the same reputation. They think very highly of me“, he added modestly, lowering his eyes. „The minister said the other day that I was a credit to the ministry“.
„Stout fellow!“ said Oblomov. „But working from eight to twelve, from twelve to five, and at home, too – well!“ He shook his head.
„But what should I do if I were not in the service?“ asked Sudbinsky.
„Lots of things! You could read, write..“. said Oblomov.
„But I do nothing but read and write now“.
„I don’t mean that. You could publish your writings“.
„Not everyone can be a writer. Look at you. You don’t write, do you?“ replied Sudbinsky.
„Ah, but I have an estate on my hands“, said Oblomov with a sigh. „I’m devising a new scheme, introducing all sorts of improvements. Worrying myself to death. But you’re doing other people’s work – not your own“.
„Well, that can’t be helped. One has to work, if one is paid. I’ll have a rest in the summer. My chief has promised to get me some special work which will take me out into the country. I’ll get travelling expenses to hire five horses, three roubles a day for my other expenses, and then promotion…“
„They have money to burn!“ Oblomov said enviously; then he sighed and fell into thought.
„I need money“, added Sudbinsky. „I’m getting married in the autumn“.
„Good Lord! Really? To whom?“ Oblomov cried sympathetically.
„Yes, indeed, to Miss Murashin.You remember they were staying next to me in the country during my summer holidays and had tea at my place? I believe you met her“.
„No, I don’t remember. Is she pretty?“ asked Oblomov.
„Yes, she’s a charming girl. If you like, we can go and have dinner with them“.
Oblomov looked embarrassed. „All right – only“ -
„Next week“, said Sudbinsky.
„Yes, yes, next week“, Oblomov agreed, feeling relieved. „My new suit isn’t ready yet. Tell me, is it a good match?“
„Oh yes, her father is a high-grade civil servant. He’s giving her ten thousand, and he has free Government quarters. He’s letting us have twelve rooms; furniture, heating, and lighting provided free. Not so bad“.
„Not so bad, indeed! You’re a lucky chap, Sudbinsky“, Oblomov added, not without envy.
„You must be my best man, Oblomov! Don’t forget“.
„Why, of course“, said Oblomov. „Well, and what about Kuznetzov, Vassilyev, Makhov?“
„Kuznetzov has been married for years, Makhov is now in my place, and Vassilyev has been transferred to Poland. Ivan Petrovich has received the Order of St Vladimir, and Oleshkin is „His Excellency“ now“.
„He’s a nice fellow“, said Oblomov.
„Yes, yes. He deserves it“.
„A very nice fellow indeed. Good-natured and even-tempered“.
„So obliging“, Sudbinsky added. „And, you know, never tries to curry favour, to make mischief, trip one up, get ahead of anyone – he does all he can for people“.
„An excellent fellow! I remember if I made a mess of some official report, left something out, expressed a wrong opinion, or quoted the wrong law in a memorandum, he didn’t mind; he’d merely tell someone else to put it right. An excellent fellow!“ Oblomov concluded.
„But our Semyon Semyonovich is incorrigible“, said Sudbinsky. „All he’s good for is to throw dust in people’s eyes. What do you think he did the other day? We received a demand from the provinces for putting up dog kennels near the buildings of our ministry, to guard against the depredation of Government property; our architect, a capable, experienced, and honest man, drew up a very moderate estimate; but Semyon Semyonovich thought it was too high and began making inquiries to find out how much the kennels would cost to build. He discovered someone who agreed to do it at thirty copecks less and at once sent in a memorandum about it…“
There was another ring at the front door.
„Good-bye“, said the civil servant. „I’m afraid I’ve been chatting too long to you. I may be wanted at the office…“
„Do stay a little longer“, Oblomov said, trying to detain him. „Besides, I’d like to ask your advice – two awful things have happened to me“.
„No, no, I’m sorry, old man, I’d better look you up again in a couple of days“, Sudbinsky said, leaving the room.
„My dear fellow, you’re up to your neck in it“, thought Oblomov, as he watched him go. „Blind, deaf, and dumb to everything else in the world. But he’ll be a big man one day, be put in charge of all sorts of important things, and reach a high rank in the service. This is what they call making a career, I suppose! But how little of the real man is wanted for such a career – intelligence, will, feelings are not wanted. What for? They’re a luxury! And so he’ll go on till he dies, and he’ll go through life without being aware of lots of things. And there he goes on working from twelve till five at his office and from eight till twelve at home – poor fellow!“
He felt a quiet satisfaction at the thought that he could stay in bed from nine till three and from eight till nine, and was proud that he had no reports to make nor papers to write and that there was ample scope both for his feelings and his imagination.
Oblomov was absorbed in his thoughts and did not notice a very thin dark man standing by his bed, a man whose face was practically invisible behind his whiskers, moustache, and imperial. He was dressed with studied negligence.
„Good morning, Oblomov!“
„Good morning, Penkin“, said Oblomov. „Don’t come near, don’t come near, you’re straight from the cold!“
„Oh, you funny fellow“, Penkin said. „Still the same incorrigible, care-free idler!“
„Yes, care-free!“ said Oblomov. „Let me show you the letter I received from my bailiff last night: I am racking my brains and you say: care-free! Where do you come from?“
„From a bookshop: I went to find out if the magazines were out. Have you read my article?“
„No“.
„I’ll send it to you. Read it“.
„What is it about?“ asked Oblomov, yawning heartily.
„About trade, the emancipation of women, the beautiful April weather we’ve been having, and about a newly invented fire extinguisher. How is it you don’t read the papers? Why, you find all about our daily life there. But most of all I’m agitating for the realistic movement in literature“.
„Have you plenty of work?“ asked