Oblomov / Обломов. Книга для чтения на английском языке

He was often seen with a crowd of children in the courtyard or by the gate. He settled their quarrels, teased them, organized games, or simply sat with one child on each knee, while another little rascal would throw his arms round his neck from behind or pull at his whiskers.

And so Oblomov interfered with Zakhar’s life by constantly demanding his services and his presence, while Zakhar’s heart, his talkative nature, his love of idleness, and a perpetual, never-ceasing need for munching something drew him to the gate, or to his lady-friend, to the shop, or to the kitchen.

They had known each other and lived together for a very long time. Zakhar had dandled little Oblomov in his arms, and Oblomov remembered him as a quick and sly young man with a prodigious appetite. Nothing in the world could sever the old ties between them. Just as Oblomov could not get up or go to bed, brush his hair, put on his shoes, or have his dinner without Zakhar, so Zakhar could imagine no other master than Oblomov and no other existence than that of dressing him, feeding him, being rude to him, cheating him, lying to him and, at the same time, inwardly revering him.

8

Having closed the door behind Tarantyev and Alexeyev, Zakhar did not sit down on the stove, but waited for his master to call him any minute, for he had heard that Oblomov was going to write letters. But everything in Oblomov’s study was as silent as the grave.

Zakhar peeped through the chink in the wall – and what did he see? Oblomov was lying quietly on the sofa, his head propped on his hand; a book lay open in front of him.

В«Why are you lying down again, sir?В» he asked.

«Don’t disturb me, you see I am reading», Oblomov said curtly.

«It’s time to wash and to write», Zakhar said mercilessly.

«Yes», Oblomov said, coming to himself. «As a matter of fact it is. I’ll be ready directly. You go now. I’ll think».

«How did he manage to lie down again?» Zakhar growled, jumping on the stove. «He’s not half quick!»

Oblomov, however, managed to read the page which had turned yellow during the month since he had last read the book. He put the book down, yawned, and then began thinking of В«the two misfortunesВ».

В«What a bore!В» he whispered, stretching his legs and tucking them under him again. He felt like lying like that in comfort and dreaming.