Stories by Foreign Authors: Russian | Page 5

as
concerning your contention regarding drunkenness, in that matter, too, I
am not to blame, but rather a friend; he led me into temptation, but was
diplomatic and got away, while I . . ."
"While you were left like a goose, in the street. Ah, you're a dissolute
fellow! But that's not the point," the steward went on, "I've something
to tell you. Our lady . . ." here he paused a minute, "it's our lady's
pleasure that you should be married. Do you hear? She imagines you
may be steadier when you're married. Do you understand?"
"To be sure I do."
"Well, then. For my part I think it would be better to give you a good
hiding. But there--it's her business. Well? are you agreeable?"
Kapiton grinned.
"Matrimony is an excellent thing for any one, Gavrila Andreitch; and,
as far as I am concerned, I shall be quite agreeable."
"Very well, then," replied Gavrila, while he reflected to himself:
"There's no denying the man expresses himself very properly. Only
there's one thing," he pursued aloud: "the wife our lady's picked out for
you is an unlucky choice."
"Why, who is she, permit me to inquire?"

"Tatiana."
"Tatiana?"
And Kapiton opened his eyes, and moved a little away from the wall.
"Well, what are you in such a taking for? . . . Isn't she to your taste,
hey?"
"Not to my taste, do you say, Gavrila Andreitch? She's right enough, a
hard-working steady girl. . . But you know very well yourself, Gavrila
Andreitch, why that fellow, that wild man of the woods, that monster of
the steppes, he's after her, you know. . ."
"I know, mate, I know all about it," the butler cut him short in a tone of
annoyance: "but there, you see . . ."
"But upon my soul, Gavrila Andreitch! why, he'll kill me, by God, he
will, he'll crush me like some fly; why, he's got a fist--why, you kindly
look yourself what a fist he's got; why, he's simply got a fist like Minin
Pozharsky's. You see he's deaf, he beats and does not hear how he's
beating! He swings his great fists, as if he's asleep. And there's no
possibility of pacifying him; and for why? Why, because, as you know
yourself, Gavrila Andreitch, he's deaf, and what's more, has no more
wit than the heel of my foot. Why, he's a sort of beast, a heathen idol,
Gavrila Andreitch, and worse . . . a block of wood; what have I done
that I should have to suffer from him now? Sure it is, it's all over me
now; I've knocked about, I've had enough to put up with, I've been
battered like an earthenware pot, but still I'm a man, after all, and not a
worthless pot."
"I know, I know, don't go talking away. . ."
"Lord, my God!" the shoemaker continued warmly, "when is the end?
when, O Lord! A poor wretch I am, a poor wretch whose sufferings are
endless! What a life, what a life mine's been come to think of it! In my
young days, I was beaten by a German I was 'prentice to; in the prime
of life beaten by my own countrymen, and last of all, in ripe years, see
what I have been brought to. . ."
"Ugh, you flabby soul!" said Gavrila Andreitch. "Why do you make so
many words about it?"
"Why, do you say, Gavrila Andreitch? It's not a beating I'm afraid of,
Gavrila Andreitch. A gentleman may chastise me in private, but give
me a civil word before folks, and I'm a man still; but see now, whom
I've to do with . . ."

"Come, get along," Gavrila interposed impatiently. Kapiton turned
away and staggered off.
"But, if it were not for him," the steward shouted after him, "you would
consent for your part?"
"I signify my acquiescence," retorted Kapiton as he disappeared.
His fine language did not desert him, even in the most trying positions.
The steward walked several times up and down the room.
"Well, call Tatiana now," he said at last.
A few instants later, Tatiana had come up almost noiselessly, and was
standing in the doorway.
"What are your orders, Gavrila Andreitch?" she said in a soft voice.
The steward looked at her intently.
"Well, Taniusha," he said, "would you like to be married? Our lady has
chosen a husband for you?"
"Yes, Gavrila Andreitch. And whom has she deigned to name as a
husband for me?" she added falteringly.
"Kapiton, the shoemaker."
"Yes, sir."
"He's a feather-brained fellow, that's certain. But it's just for that the
mistress reckons upon you."
"Yes, sir."
"There's one difficulty . . . you know the deaf man, Gerasim, he's
courting you, you see.