Shadowing Practice: Chapter I.II | Dostoevsky's Stepanchikovo #3 - Learn English Speaking with Video
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CHAPTER II.
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MR. BOTCHEV.
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I was approaching my destination.
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Driving through the little town of B, from which I had only eight miles farther to Stepanchikovo,
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I was obliged to stop at the blacksmith's near the town gate, as the tire of the front wheel of my chaise broke.
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To repair it in some way well enough to stand the remaining eight miles was a job
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that should not take very long, and so I made up my mind not to go elsewhere,
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but to remain at the blacksmith's while he set it right.
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As I got out of the chaise I saw a stout gentleman, who, like me, had been compelled to stop to have his carriage repaired.
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He had been standing a whole hour in the insufferable heat,
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shouting and swearing, and with fretful impatience urging on the blacksmiths who were busy about his fine carriage.
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At first sight this angry gentleman struck me as extremely peevish.
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He was about five and forty, of middle height, very stout and pockmarked.
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His stoutness, his double chin, and his puffy, pendant cheeks, testified to the blissful existence of a landowner.
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There was something feminine about his whole figure which at once caught the eye.
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He was dressed in loose, comfortable, neat clothes, which were, however, quite unfashionable.
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I cannot imagine why he was annoyed with me, since he saw me for the first time in his life,
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and had not yet spoken a single word to me.
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I noticed the fact from the extraordinarily furious looks he turned upon me as soon as I got out of the carriage.
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Yet I felt the great inclination to make his acquaintance.
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From the chatter of his servants, I gathered that he had just come from Stepanchikovo,
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from my uncles, and so it was an opportunity for making full inquiries about many things.
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I was just taking off my cap
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and trying as agreeably as possible to observe how unpleasant these delays on the road sometimes were, but the fat gentleman, as it were reluctantly,
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scanned me from head to boots with a displeased and ill -humoured stare,
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muttered something to himself, and turned heavily his full back view to me.
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This aspect of his person, however interesting to the observer, held out no hopes of agreeable conversation.
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Grishka, don't grumble to yourself, I'll thrash you!
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He shouted suddenly to his valet, as though he had not heard what I said about delays on the journey.
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This Grishka was a gray -headed, old -fashioned servant, dressed in a long -skirted coat and wearing very long gray whiskers.
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Judging from certain signs, he too was in a very bad humor, and was grumbling morosely to himself.
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An explanation immediately followed between the master and the servant.
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You'll thrash me, ball a little louder, muttered Grishka, as though to himself, but so loudly that everybody heard it,
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and with indignation he turned away to adjust something in the carriage.
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What?
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What did you say?
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Ball a little louder?
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So you are pleased to be impudent?
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shouted the fat man, turning purple.
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What on earth are you nagging at me for?
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One can't say a word.
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Why, nag at you?
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Do you hear that?
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He grumbles at me, and I am not to nag at him.
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Why, what should I grumble at?
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What should you grumble at?
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You're grumbling right enough.
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I know what you are grumbling about, my having come away from the dinner.
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That's what it is.
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What's that to me?
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You can have no dinner at all for all I care.
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I am not grumbling at you.
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I simply said a word to the blacksmith.
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The blacksmiths?
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Why grumble at the blacksmiths?
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I did not grumble at them.
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I grumbled at the carriage.
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And why grumble at the carriage?
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What did it break down for?
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It mustn't do it again.
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The carriage?
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No, you are grumbling at me, and not at the carriage.
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It's his own fault, and he swears at other people.
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Why on earth you keep on at me, sir?
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Leave off, please.
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Why have you been sitting like an owl all the way, not saying a word to me, eh?
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You are ready enough to talk at other times.
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A fly was buzzing round my mouth, and that's why I didn't talk and sat like an owl.
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Why, am I to tell you fairy tales or what?
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Take Melania the storyteller with you if you are fond of fairy tales.
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The fat man opened his mouth to reply, but apparently could think of nothing and held his peace.
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The servant, proud of his skill in argument and his influence over his master displayed before witnesses,
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turned to the workmen with redoubled dignity and began showing them something.
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My efforts to make acquaintance were fruitless, and my own awkwardness did not help matters.
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I was assisted, however, by an unexpected incident.
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A sleepy, unwashed, and unkempt countenance suddenly peeped out of the window of a closed carriage,
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which had stood from time immemorial without wheels in the blacksmith's yard, daily though vainly expecting to be repaired.
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At the appearance of this countenance there was a general outburst of laughter from the workman.
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The joke was that the man peeping out of the dismantled carriage was locked in and could not get out.
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Having fallen asleep in it drunk, he was now vainly begging for freedom.
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At last he began begging someone to run for his tool.
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All this immensely entertained the spectators.
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There are persons who derive peculiar delight in entertainment from strange things.
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The antics of a drunken peasant, a man stumbling and falling down in the street,
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a wrangle between two women and other such incidents arouse at times in some people the most good -humored and unaccountable delight.
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The fat gentleman belonged precisely to that class.
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Little by little his countenance, from being solid and menacing, began to look pleased and good -humoured, and at last brightened up completely.
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Why, that's Vasiliev, isn't it? he asked with interest.
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How did he get here?
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Yes, it is Vasiliev, sir, was shouted on all sides.
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"'He's been on the spree, sir,' added one of the workmen, a tall, lean, elderly man with a pedantically severe expression of face,
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who seemed disposed to take the lead.
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"'He's been on the spree, sir.
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It's three days since he left his master, and he's lying hidden here.
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He's come and planted himself upon us.
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Here he is asking for a chisel.
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Why, what do you want with the chisel for now, you adelpate?
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He wants to pawn his last tool.
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Eh, karipushka, money's like a bird.
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It flies up and flies away again.
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Let me out for God's sake.
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Vasiliev entreated in a thin, cracked voice, poking his head out of the carriage.
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You stay where you are, you idol.
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You are lucky to be there, Arhip answered sternly.
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You have been drunk since the day before yesterday.
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You were hauled out of the street at daybreak this morning.
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You must thank God we hid you.
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We told Matvej Ilyich that you were ill, that you had a convenient attack of colic.
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There was a second burst of laughter.
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But where is the chisel?
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Why, Arzui has got it.
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How he keeps on about it.
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A drinking man if ever there was one, Stepan Alexievich.
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Ho, ho, ho, the scoundrel.
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So that's how you work in the town.
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You pawn your tools, wheezed the fat man, spluttering with glee, quite pleased and suddenly becoming extraordinarily good -humored.
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And yet it would be hard to find such a carpenter even in Moscow, but this is how he always recommends himself to Ruffian,
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he added, quite unexpectedly turning to me.
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Let him out, Arhip, perhaps he wants something.
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The gentleman was obeyed.
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The nail with which they had fastened up the carriage door, chiefly in order to amuse themselves at Vasiliev's expense
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when he should wake up, was taken out and Vassiliev made his appearance in the light of day, muddy, dishevelled, and ragged.
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He blinked at the sunshine, sneezed and gave a lurch, and then putting up his hand to screen his eyes, he looked round.
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What a lot of people!
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What a lot of people!
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he said, shaking his head.
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And all seemingly sober, he drawled with a sort of mournful pensiveness, as though reproaching himself.
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"'Well, good morning, brothers, good day.' Again there was a burst of laughter.
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"'Good morning?
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Why see how much of the day is gone, you heedless fellow?
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"'Go it, old man.
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As we say, have your fling if it don't last long.' "'Ho, ho, ho, he has a ready tongue,' cried the fat man,
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rolling with laughter, and again glancing genially at me.
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Aren't you ashamed, Vasiliev?
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It's sorrow drives me to it, Stepan Alexievich, sir.
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It's sorrow.
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Vasiliev answered gravely with a wave of his hand, evidently glad of another opportunity to mention his sorrow.
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What sorrow, you booby?
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A trouble such as was never heard of before.
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We are being made over to Fomafomich. Whom? When?
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cried the fat man, all of a flutter.
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I, too, took a step forward.
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Quite unexpectedly, the question concerned me, too.
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Why, all the people of Kapitanovko, our master, the colonel, God gives him health,
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wants to give up all our Kapitanovko, his property, to Foma Fomich.
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Full seventy souls he is handing over to him.
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It's for you, Foma, says he.
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Here now you've nothing of your own, one may say.
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You are not much of a landowner.
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All you have to keep you are two smelts and Lake Ladoga.
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That's all the serfs your father left you.
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For your parent, Vasiliev went on, with a sort of spiteful satisfaction,
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putting touches of venom into his story and all that related to Fomafomich.
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For your parent was a gentleman of ancient lineage, though from no one knows where, and no one knows who he was.
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He too, like you, lived with the gentry, was allowed to be in the kitchen as a charity.
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But now when I make over, Captain Novko, to you, you will be a landowner too, and a gentleman of ancient lineage,
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and will have serfs of your own.
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You can lie on the stove and be as idle as a gentleman.
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But Stepan Alexievich was no longer listening.
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The effect produced on him by Vasilyev's half -drunken story was extraordinary.
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The fat man was so angry that he turned positively purple.
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His double chin was quivering.
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His little eyes grew bloodshot.
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I thought he would have a stroke on the spot.
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That's the last straw, he said, gasping.
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That low brute, Foma, the parasite, a landowner.
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Foo!
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Go to perdition!
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Damn it all!
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Hey, you, make haste and finish!
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Home!
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Allow me to ask you, I said, stepping forward uncertainly.
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You were pleased to mention the name of Foma Fomach just now.
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I believe his surname, if I am not mistaken, is Opiskin.
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Well, you see, I should like...
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In short, I have a special reason for being interested in that personage, and I should be very glad to know,
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on my own account, how far one may believe the words of this good man that his master,
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Jagor Ilyich Rostenev, means to make Fomafomich a present of one of his villages.
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That interests me extremely, and I...
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Allow me to ask you, the fat man broke in.
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On what grounds are you interested in that personage as you style him,
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though to my mind, that damned low brute is what he ought to be called and not a personage?
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A fine sort of personage, the scurvy knave.
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He's a simple disgrace, not a personage.
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I explain that so far I was in complete ignorance in regard to this person, but that Yegor Ilyich Rothenev was my uncle,
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and that I myself was Sergei Alexandrovich so -and -so.
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"'The learned gentleman!
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My dear fellow, they are expecting you impatiently!' cried the fat man, genuinely delighted.
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"'Why, I have just come from them myself, from Stepanchikovo.
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I went away from dinner, I got up from the pudding, I couldn't sit it out with FOMA.
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I quarreled with them all there on account of that damned FOMA.
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Here's a meeting.
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You must excuse me, my dear fellow.
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I am Stepan Alexeyevich Botcheyev, and I remember you that high.
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Well, who would have thought it?
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But allow me.
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And the fat man advanced to kiss me.
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After the first minutes of excitement, I at once proceeded to question him.
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The opportunity was an excellent one.
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But who is this Foma?
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I asked.
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How is it he has gained the upper hand of the whole house?
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Why don't they kick him out of the yard?
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I must confess.
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Kick him out?
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You must be mad.
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Why, Yegor Ilyich tiptoes before him.
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Why, once Foma laid it down that Thursday was Wednesday, and so everyone in the house counted Thursday, Wednesday.
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I won't have it Thursday.
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Let it be Wednesday.
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And so there were two Wednesdays in one week.
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Do you suppose I am making it up?
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I am not exaggerating the least little bit.
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Why, my dear fellow, it's simply beyond all belief.
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I have heard that, but I must confess.
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I confess and I confess the way the man keeps on.
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What is there to confess?
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No, you had better ask me what sort of jungle I have come out of.
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The mother of Yegor Ilyich, I mean of the colonel, though a very worthy lady and a general's widow too,
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in my opinion is in her dotage.
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Why, that damned Foma is the very apple of her eye.
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She is the cause of it all.
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It was she brought him into the house.
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He has talked her silly.
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She hasn't a word to say for herself now, though she is called Her Excellency.
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She skipped a marriage with General Krahotkin at fifty.
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As for Yegor Ilyich's sister, Praskovya Ilyichna, who was an old maid of forty, I don't care to speak of her.
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It's, oh dear, and oh my, and cackling like a hen.
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I am sick of her, bless her.
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The only thing about her is that she is of the female sex, and so I must respect her for no cause or reason,
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simply because she is of the female sex.
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Foo!
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It's not the thing for me to speak of her, she's your aunt.
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Alexandra Yagorovna, the colonel's daughter, though she is only a little girl, just in her sixteenth year,
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to my thinking, is the cleverest of the lot she doesn't respect Foma.
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It was fun to see her.
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A sweet young lady, and that's the fact.
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And why should she respect him?
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Why, Foma was a buffoon waiting on the late General Krahotkin.
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Why, he used to imitate all sorts of beasts to entertain the general.
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And it seems that in old days, Jack was the man.
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But nowadays, Jack is the master.
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And now the colonel, your uncle, treats this retired buffoon as though he were his own father.
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He has set him up in a frame, the rascal, and bows down at the feet of the man who was sponging upon him.
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Foo!
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Poverty is not a vice, however, and I must confess, allow me to ask you, is he handsome, clever?
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FOMA?
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A perfect picture, answered Batcheyev with an extraordinary quiver of spite in his voice.
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My question seemed to irritate him, and he began to look at me suspiciously.
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A perfect picture.
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Do you hear, good people?
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He makes him out of beauty.
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Why, he is like a lot of brute beasts in one if you want to know the whole truth, my good man.
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Though that wouldn't matter if he had wit.
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If only he had wit, the rogue.
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Why, then I would be ready to do violence to my feelings and agree, maybe, for the sake of wit.
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But you see, there's no trace of wit about him, whatever.
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He has cast a spell on them all.
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He is a regular alchemist.
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Foo!
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I am tired of talking.
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One ought to curse them and say no more about it.
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You have upset me with your talk, my good sir.
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Hey you!
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Are you ready or not?
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Raven still wants shooing, Grishka answered gloomily.
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Raven!
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I'll let you have a raven!
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Yes, sir, I could tell you a story that would simply make you gape with wonder,
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so that you would stay with your mouth open till the second coming.
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Why, I used to feel a respect for him myself.
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Would you believe it?
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I confess it with shame.
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I frankly confess it.
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I was a fool.
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Why, he took me in too.
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He's a know -all.
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He knows the ins and outs of everything.
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He studied all the sciences.
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He gave me some drops.
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You see, my good sir, I am a sick man, a poor creature.
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You may not believe it, but I am an invalid.
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And those drops of his almost turn me inside out.
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You just keep quiet and listen.
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Go yourself and you will be amazed.
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Why, he will make the colonel shed tears of blood.
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The colonel will shed tears of blood through him, but then it will be too late.
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You know, the whole neighborhood all around has dropped his acquaintance owing to this accursed FOMA.
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No one can come to the police without being insulted by him.
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I don't count.
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Even officials of high rank he doesn't spare.
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He lectures everyone.
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He sets up for a teacher of morality, the scoundrel.
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I am a wise man, says he.
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I am cleverer than all of you.
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You must listen to no one but me.
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I am a learned man.
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Well, what of it?
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Because he is learned, must he persecute people who are not?
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And when he begins in his learned language, he goes hammering on.
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Ta -ta -ta, ta -ta -ta.
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I'll tell you, his tongue is such a one to wag
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that if you cut it off and throw it on the dung heap, It will go on wagging there till a crow picks it up.
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He is as conceited and puffed out as a mouse in a sack of grain.
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He is trying to climb so high that he will overreach himself.
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Why, here, for instance, he has taken it into his head to teach the house serfs French.
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You can believe it or not as you like.
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It will be a benefit to him, he says, to a lout, to a servant.
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Foo!
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A shameless fellow, damn him, that is what he is.
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What does a clodhopper want with French, I ask you?
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And indeed, what the likes of us want with French?
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For gallivanting with young ladies in the mazurka, or dancing attendance on other men's wives?
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Profligacy, that's what it is, I tell you.
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But to my thinking, when one has drunk a bottle of vodka, one can talk in any language.
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So that is all the respect I have for your French language.
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I dare say you can chatter away in French.
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Ta -ta -ta, the tabby has married the tom.
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But I have said, looking at me in scornful indignation, Are you a learned man, my good sir, eh?
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Have you gone in for some learned line?
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Well, I am somewhat interested.
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I suppose you have studied all the sciences, too?
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Quite so.
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That is, no. I must own I am more interested now in observing.
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I have been staying in Petersburg, but now I am hurrying to my uncle's.
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And who is the attraction at your uncle's?
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You had better have stayed where you were, since you had somewhere to stay.
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No, my good sir, I can tell you, you won't make much way by being learned, and no uncle will be of any use to you.
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You'll get caught in a trap.
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Why, I got quite thin staying twenty -four hours with them.
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Would you believe that I got thin staying with them?
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No, I see you don't believe it.
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Oh, well, you needn't believe it if you don't want to, bless you.
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No, really, I quite believe it, only I still don't understand, I answered, more and more bewildered.
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I believe it, but I don't believe you.
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You learned gentlemen are all fond of cutting capers.
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All you care about is hopping about on one leg and showing off.
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I am not fond of learned people, my good sir.
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They give me the spleen.
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I have come across your Petersburgers, a worthless lot.
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They are all Freemasons.
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They spread infidelity in all directions.
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They are afraid of a drop of vodka as though it would bite them.
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Foo!
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You have put me out of temper, sir, and I don't want to tell you anything.
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After all, I have not been engaged to tell you stories, and I am tired of talking.
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One doesn't pitch into everybody, sir, and indeed it's a sin to do it.
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Only your learned gentleman at your uncle's has driven the footman Vidoplyasov almost out of his wits.
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Vidoplyasov has gone crazy all through Fomafomich.
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As for that fellow Vidoplyasov, put in Grishka, who had till then been following the conversation with severe decorum,
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I'd give him a flogging.
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If I came across him, I'd thrash the German nonsense out of him.
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I'd give him more than you could get into two hundred.
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Be quiet, shouted his master.
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Hold your tongue.
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No one's talking to you.
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Vydoplyasov, I said, utterly nonplussed and not knowing what to say.
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Vydoplyasov, what a queer name.
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Why is it queer?
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There you are again.
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Oh, you learned gentleman, you learned gentleman.
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I lost patience.
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Excuse me, I said, but why are you so cross with me?
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What have I done?
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I must own I have been listening to you for half an hour, and I still don't know what it is all about.
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What are you offended about, sir?
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answered the fat man.
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There is no need for you to take offense.
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I am speaking to you for your good.
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You mustn't mind my being such a grumbler and shouting at my servant just now.
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Though he is the most natural rascal, my Grishka, I like him for it, the scoundrel.
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A feeling heart has been the ruin of me, I tell you frankly, and Foma is to blame for it all.
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He'll be the ruin of me, I'll take my oath of that.
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Here, thanks to him, I have been baking in the sun for two hours.
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I should have liked to have gone to the priests while these fools were dawdling about over their job.
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The priest here is a very nice fellow.
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But he has so upset me, Foma has, that it has even put me off seeing the priest.
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What a set they all are!
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There isn't a decent tavern here.
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I tell you, they are all scoundrels, every one of them.
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And it would be a different thing if he were some great man in the service, Bacayev went on, going back again to Fomafomich,
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whom he seemed unable to shake off.
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It would be pardonable, perhaps, for a man of rank.
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But as it is, he has no rank at all, I know for a fact
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that he hasn't he says he has suffered in the cause of justice in the year forty something
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that never was so we have to bow down to him for
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that if the least thing is not to his liking up he jumps
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and begins squealing they are insulting me they are insulting my poverty they have no respect for me
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You daren't sit down to table without Foma, and yet he keeps them waiting.
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I have been slighted, he'd say.
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I am a poor wanderer.
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Black bread is good enough for me.
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As soon as they sit down, he turns up.
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Our fiddle strikes up again.
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Why did you sit down to table without me?
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So no respecter shown me in anything.
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In fact, your soul is not your own.
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I held my peace for a long time, sir.
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He imagined that I was going to fawn upon him like a lapdog on its hind legs, begging.
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Here, boy, here's a bit, eat it up.
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No, my lad, you run in the shafts while I sit in the cart.
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I served in the same regiment with the Yegor Ilyich, you know.
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I took my discharge with the rank of a junker while he came to his estate last year, a retired colonel.
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I said to him, Aye, you will be your own undoing.
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Don't be too soft with FOMA.
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You'll regret it.
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No, he would say.
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He is a most excellent person, meaning FOMA.
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He is a friend to me.
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He is teaching me a higher standard of life.
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Well, thought I, there is no fighting against a higher standard.
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If he has set out to teach a higher standard of life, then it is all up.
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What do you suppose he made a to -do about today?
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Tomorrow is the day of Elijah the prophet.
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Mr. Bachev crossed himself.
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The patron saint of your uncle's son, Ilyusha.
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I was thinking to spend the day with them and to dine there, and had ordered a plaything from Petersburg.
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A German on springs, kissing the hand of his betrothed while she wiped away a tear with her handkerchief.
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A magnificent thing!
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I shan't give it now, no thank you.
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It's lying there in my carriage, and the German's nose is smashed off.
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I am taking it back.
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Yegor Ilyich himself would not have been disinclined to enjoy himself and be festive on such a day.
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But Foma won't have it.
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As much as to say, why are you beginning to make such a fuss over Ilyusha?
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So now you are taking no notice of me.
427
Eh?
428
What do you say to a goose like that?
429
He is jealous of a boy of eight over his name day.
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Look here, he says, it is my name day too.
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But you know it will be St. Ilya's, not St. Foma's.
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No, he says, that is my name day too.
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I looked on and put up with it.
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And what do you think?
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Now they are walking about on tiptoe, whispering, uncertain what to do.
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To reckon Ilya's day as the name day or not.
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To congratulate him or not.
438
If they don't congratulate him, he may be offended.
439
If they do, he may take it for scoffing.
440
Phew, what a plague!
441
We sat down to dinner.
442
But are you listening, my good sir?
443
Most certainly I am.
444
I am listening with peculiar gratification, in fact, because through you I have now learned, and I must say...
445
To be sure, with peculiar gratification.
446
I know your peculiar gratification.
447
You are not jeering at me, talking about your gratification.
448
Upon my word, how could I be jeering?
449
On the contrary.
450
And indeed, you express yourself with such originality that I am tempted to note down your words.
451
What's that, sir, noting down?
452
asked Mr. Batchev, looking at me with suspicion and speaking with some alarm.
453
Though perhaps I shall not note them down, I didn't mean anything.
454
No doubt you are trying to flatter me.
455
Flatter you?
456
What do you mean?
457
I asked with surprise.
458
Why, yes, here you are flattering me now.
459
I am telling you everything like a fool, and later on you will go and write a sketch of me somewhere.
460
I made haste at once to assure Mr. Batchaev that I was not that sort of person, but he still looked at me suspiciously.
461
Not that sort of person?
462
Who can tell what you are?
463
Perhaps better still, Foma there threatened to write an account of me and to send it to be published.
464
Allow me to ask, I interrupted, partly from a desire to change the conversation, is it true that my uncle wants to get married?
465
What if he does?
466
That would not matter.
467
Get married if you have a mind to, that's no harm, but something else is, "'Yes,' added Mr. Bachev meditatively.
468
"'Hm.
469
That question, my good sir, I cannot answer fully.
470
"'There are a lot of females mixed up in the business now,
471
like flies and jam, "'and you know there is no making out which wants to be married.
472
"'As a friend, I don't mind telling you, sir, I don't like woman.
473
"'It's only talk that she is a human being, but in reality she is simply a disgrace and a danger to the soul's salvation.
474
But that your uncle is in love like a Siberian cat, that I can tell you for a fact.
475
I'll say no more about that now, sir, you will see for yourself.
476
But what's bad is that the business drags on.
477
If you are going to get married, get married.
478
But he is afraid to tell Foma, and afraid to tell the old lady.
479
She will be squealing all over the place and begin kicking up a rumpus.
480
She takes Foma's part.
481
Foma, Foma, it will be hurt, she'd say, if a new mistress comes into the house,
482
for then he won't be able to stay two hours in it.
483
The bride will chuck him out by the scruff of his neck if she is not a fool,
484
and in one way or another will make such an upset
485
that he won't be able to find a place anywhere in the neighborhood.
486
So now he is at his pranks, and he and the mama are trying to foist a queer sort of bride on him.
487
But why did you interrupt me, sir?
488
I wanted to tell you what was most important, and you interrupted me.
489
I am older than you are, and it is not the right thing to interrupt an old man.
490
I apologized.
491
You needn't apologize.
492
I wanted to put before you, as a learned man, how he insulted me today.
493
Come, tell me what you think of it, if you are a good -hearted man.
494
We sat down to dinner.
495
Well, he fairly bit my head off at dinner, I can tell you.
496
I saw from the very beginning he sat there as cross as two sticks, as though nothing were to his liking.
497
He'd have been glad to drown me in a spoonful of water, the viper.
498
He is a man of such vanity that his skin's not big enough for him.
499
So he took it into his head to pick a quarrel with me, to teach me a higher standard.
500
Asked me to tell him why I was so fat.
501
The man kept pestering me.
502
Why was I fat and not thin?
503
What do you think of that question?
504
Tell me, my good sir, do you see anything witty in it?
505
I answered him very reasonably.
506
That says God has ordained, Fomafomich, one man's fat and one man's thin,
507
and no mortal can go against the decrees of divine providence.
508
That was sensible, wasn't it?
509
What do you say?
510
No, said he.
511
You have five hundred serfs.
512
You live at your ease and do nothing for your country.
513
You ought to be in the service, but you sit at home and play your concertina.
514
And it is true, when I am depressed, I am fond of playing on the concertina.
515
I answered very reasonably again.
516
How should I go into the service, Foma Fomich? what uniform could I pinch my corpulence into?
517
If I pinched myself in and put on a uniform
518
and sneezed unwarily all the buttons would fly off
519
and what's more maybe before my superiors and God forbid they might take it for a practical joke and what then?
520
Well tell me what was there funny in that?
521
But there there was such a roar at my expense such a ha -ha -ha and he -he -he.
522
The fact is he has no sense of decency, I tell you, and he even thought fit to slander me in the French dialect.
523
Cochon, he called me.
524
Well, I know what cochon means.
525
Ah, you damned philosopher, I thought.
526
Do you suppose I'm going to give in to you?
527
I bore it as long as I could, but I couldn't stand it.
528
I got up from the table, and before all the honorable company I blurted out in his face,
529
I have done you an injustice for Mofomich, my kind benefactor.
530
I said, I thought that you were a well -bred man,
531
and you turn out to be just as great a hog as any one of us.
532
I said that, and I left the table, left the pudding.
533
They were just handing the pudding round.
534
Bother you and your pudding, I thought.
535
"'Excuse me,' I said, listening to Mr. Batyev's whole story.
536
"'I am ready, of course, to agree with you completely.
537
"'The point is that so far I know nothing positive, "'but I have got ideas of my own on the subject,
538
you see.' "'What ideas, my good sir?' Mr. Batyev asked mistrustfully.
539
"'You see,' I began, hesitating a little, It is perhaps not the moment, but I am ready to tell it.
540
This is what I think.
541
Perhaps we are both mistaken about Foma Fomich.
542
Perhaps under these oddities lies hidden a peculiar, perhaps a gifted nature. Who knows?
543
Perhaps it is a nature that has been wounded, crushed by sufferings, avenging itself, so to speak, on all humanity.
544
I have heard that in the past he was something like a buffoon,
545
perhaps that humiliated him mortified him overwhelmed him do you understand a man of noble nature perception,
546
and to play the part of a buffoon, and so he has become mistrustful of all mankind,
547
and perhaps if he could be reconciled to humanity, that is, to his fellows, perhaps he would turn out a rare nature,
548
perhaps even a very remarkable one, and, and, you know, there must be something in the man.
549
There is a reason, of course, for everyone doing homage to him.
550
I was conscious myself that I was maundering horribly, but I might have been forgiven in consideration of my youth.
551
But Mr. Batriyev did not forgive me.
552
He looked gravely and sternly into my face and suddenly turned crimson as a turkey cock.
553
Do you mean that Foma's a remarkable man?
554
He asked abruptly.
555
Listen, I scarcely myself believe a word of what I just said now.
556
It was merely by way of a guess.
557
Allow me, sir, to be so inquisitive as to ask, Have you studied philosophy? In what sense?
558
I asked in perplexity.
559
No, in no particular sense.
560
You answer me straight out, apart from any sense, sir.
561
Have you studied philosophy or not?
562
I must own I am intending to study it, but...
563
There it is!
564
shouted Mr. Batreyev, giving full rein to his indignation.
565
Before you opened your mouth, sir, I guessed that you were a philosopher.
566
There is no deceiving me.
567
No, thank you.
568
I can send out a philosopher two miles off.
569
You can go and kiss your Fomafomich.
570
A remarkable man indeed.
571
Foo!
572
Confound it all.
573
I thought you were a man of good intentions too, while you...
574
Here!
575
he shouted to the coachman, who had already clambered on the box of the carriage, which by now had been put in order.
576
Home!
577
With difficulty I succeeded somehow in soothing him.
578
Somehow or other he was mollified at last,
579
but it was a long time before he could bring himself to lay aside his wrath and look on me with favor.
580
Meantime he got into the carriage, assisted by Grishka and Arhip, the man who had reproved Vasiliev.
581
Allow me to ask you, I said, going up to the carriage.
582
Are you never coming again to my uncles? To your uncles?
583
Curse the fellow who has told you that.
584
Do you think that I am a consistent man, that I shall keep it up?
585
That's just my trouble, that I am not a man, but a rag.
586
Before a week's past, I shall fly round there again. And why?
587
There it is.
588
I don't know myself why, but I shall go.
589
I shall fight with FOMA again.
590
That's just my trouble, sir.
591
The Lord has sent that FOMA to chastise me for my sins.
592
I have as much will as an old woman.
593
There is no consistency in me.
594
I am a first -class coward, my good sir.
595
We parted friends, however.
596
He even invited me to dine with him.
597
You come, sir, you come.
598
We will dine together.
599
I have got some vodka brought on foot from Kiev, and my cook has been in Paris.
600
He serves such fricassees, he makes such pasties, that you can only lift your fingers and bow down to him, the rascal.
601
A man of culture!
602
Only it is a long time since I thrashed him, he is getting spoilt with me.
603
It is a good thing you reminded me. Do come.
604
I'd invite you to come to -day, only somehow I am out of sorts, down in the mouth, in fact quite knocked up.
605
I am a sick man, you know, a poor creature.
606
Maybe you won't believe it.
607
Well, good -bye, sir, it is time for me to set sail, and your little trap yonder is ready.
608
And tell Foma he had better not come across me.
609
I should give him such a sentimental greeting that he— But his last words were out of hearing.
610
The carriage, drawn by four strong horses, vanished in clouds of dust.
611
My chaise, too, was ready.
612
I got into it, and we at once drove through the little town.
613
Of course this gentleman is exaggerating, I thought.
614
He is too angry and cannot be impartial.
615
But again, all that he said about uncle was very remarkable.
616
So that makes two people in the same story, that uncle is in love with that young lady.
617
Hmm.
618
Shall I get married or not?
619
This time I meditated in earnest.
620
Breaking In Several of the characters presented in this chapter will disappear at this point, never to return.
621
So the drunken carpenter Vasiliev, the more serious peasant Arhip,
622
and Bachev's lackey Grishka will now exit the stage.
623
But the boisterous Bachev himself will play a role going forward.
624
Of course, Bachev has provided one more piece of confirmation concerning the existence of romantic intrigues at Stepanchikovo,
625
along with his narration of the extraordinary excesses of Fomafomich, both of which will be revealed more fully in the coming chapters.
626
He has also revealed that the following day will be Saint Elijah's Day, that is, July 20th.
627
In the Orthodox Church, each day of the year is associated with a saint, and when one is named after the saint in question,
628
that day is one's name day, which is an occasion for celebration.
629
The name of the colonel's youngest, Ilyusha, is a Russian variant of Elijah,
630
and so St. Elijah's Day is Ilyusha's name day.
631
We can only hope that he will be allowed to celebrate it without Foma's absurd intervention.
632
One other name that will come up again is Vidoplyasov, the footman at Stepanchikovo, who,
633
Bachev tells us, apparently has been heavily influenced by Foma.
634
The narrator's reaction to the name is mildly significant.
635
Apparently, the name Vidoplyasov sounds strange to Russian ears.
636
I am unaware of it having any particular meaning in Russian, but it appears to be awkward enough to be unpleasant for its bearer.
637
As a random piece of trivia, one of the bigger
638
Ukrainian rock bands of the last few decades is named after this character.
639
Finally, for thematic purposes, it is worthwhile to observe the narrator's first speculations about Foma Fomich.
640
We shall see whether they bear up in the chapters ahead.
641
End of comments.
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Woordenschat en spreektips bij deze les
Deze spreekles is gebaseerd op de video “Chapter I.II”. Deze video bevat 641 zinnen en 6690 woorden om na te spreken. Het gesproken deel duurt 47:26. De spreker praat in een gelijkmatig tempo van ongeveer 141 woorden per minuut, prettig om te shadowen. Slechts 77% van de woorden hoort bij de 3.000 meest gebruikte Engelse woorden, dus de woordenschat is pittig.
Belangrijke woorden in deze video
15 woorden uit de video die het leren waard zijn, met uitspraak en betekenis:
| Woord | Uitspraak | Betekenis |
|---|---|---|
| carriage zelfstandig naamwoord | /ˈkæɹɪd͡ʒ/ | koets |
| gentleman zelfstandig naamwoord | /ˈd͡ʒɛn.təl.mən/ | meneer |
| uncle zelfstandig naamwoord | /ˈʌŋ.kl̩/ | oom, nonkel |
| shout werkwoord | /ʃaʊt/ | schreeuwen |
| confess werkwoord | /kənˈfɛs/ | bekennen |
| colonel zelfstandig naamwoord | /ˈkɜːnəl/ | kolonel |
| thin bijvoeglijk naamwoord | /ˈθɪn/ | dun |
| servant zelfstandig naamwoord | /ˈsɝvənt/ | hulp, hulpje |
| peculiar bijvoeglijk naamwoord | /pɪˈkjul.jɚ/ | ongewoon, ongebruikelijk |
| rank zelfstandig naamwoord | /ˈɹæŋk/ | gelid, rij |
| remarkable bijvoeglijk naamwoord | /ɹɪˈmɑɹ.kə.bl̩/ | opmerkelijk, markant |
| laughter zelfstandig naamwoord | /ˈlæftɚ/ | gelach |
| insult zelfstandig naamwoord | /ɪnˈsʌlt/ | belediging |
| sorrow zelfstandig naamwoord | /ˈsɑɹoʊ/ | verdriet, smart |
| interrupt werkwoord | /ˌɪntəˈɹʌpt/ | afbreken, onderbreken |
Phrasal verbs die je zult horen
| Woord | Betekenis |
|---|---|
| come across werkwoord | overkomen |
| give up werkwoord | zich overgeven |
| go back werkwoord | teruggaan |
| put up with werkwoord | ondergaan, verdragen |
Zinnen om te herhalen
Korte, volledige zinnen uit de video die je in alledaagse gesprekken kunt gebruiken:
- What on earth are you nagging at me for?
- Why, what should I grumble at?
- What should you grumble at?
- What's that to me?
- Why on earth you keep on at me, sir?
Grammatica in deze video
De structuren die de spreker het meest gebruikt, met de exacte woorden uit de video:
| Structuur | In de video |
|---|---|
| Present perfect continuous have/has been + -ing — iets dat eerder begon en nog bezig is | have you been sitting · have been staying · have been listening |
| “Used to” used to + werkwoord — een vroegere gewoonte of toestand die niet meer klopt | used to imitate · used to feel |
| Present perfect have/has + voltooid deelwoord — iets uit het verleden dat nu nog telt | He's been · have been drunk · have just come |
| Lijdende vorm be + voltooid deelwoord — het gaat om wat er gebeurt, niet om wie het doet | was obliged · had been compelled · was dressed |
Uitspraak om op te letten
De spreker gebruikt 62 samentrekkingen en verkorte vormen, zoals don't, won't, I'll. Spreek ze kort uit, zoals je ze hoort.
- De “th”-klanken: thin /ˈθɪn/, bother /ˈbɑðɚ/, worthy /ˈwɝ.ði/, gather /ˈɡæðɚ/, threaten /ˈθɹɛt.n̩/
- De klanken “sh” en “zh”: shout /ʃaʊt/, explanation /ˌɛkspləˈneɪʃən/, occasion /əˈkeɪ̯ʒən/, shake /ˈʃeɪk/, celebration /ˌsɛl.ɪˈbɹeɪ.ʃən/
- Lange woorden — let op de klemtoon: extraordinary /ɪksˈtɹɔːrdɪn(ə)ɹi/, philosopher /fəˈlɑsəfɚ/, humanity /hjuˈmænɪti/, reasonably /ˈɹiː.zən.ə.bli/, unexpectedly /ʌnɪkˈspɛktɪdli/
Klanken die Nederlandstaligen lastig vinden:
- Stemhebbende eindmedeklinker — /b/, /d/, /g/, /z/, /v/ niet verscherpen: carriage /ˈkæɹɪd͡ʒ/, fond /fɑnd/, bride /bɹaɪd/, observe /əbˈzɜːv/, offend /əˈfɛnd/
- /æ/ — opener dan de Nederlandse “e”: carriage /ˈkæɹɪd͡ʒ/, rank /ˈɹæŋk/, laughter /ˈlæftɚ/, trap /tɹæp/, humanity /hjuˈmænɪti/
- /g/ — een harde plofklank, geen Nederlandse “g”: gray /ɡɹeɪ/, disgrace /dɪsˈɡɹeɪs/, congratulate /kənˈɡɹæd͡ʒ.ʊˌleɪt/, gate /ˈɡeɪ̯t/, regret /ɹɪˈɡɹɛt/
Zo oefen je met deze video
- Luister de hele video één keer zonder te spreken en noteer de woorden die je niet kent.
- Spreek zin voor zin na op normale snelheid en herhaal elke zin tot je ritme gelijk is aan dat van de spreker.
- Neem jezelf op en vergelijk met het origineel; let daarbij op woorden als carriage, gentleman, uncle.
Wat is de Shadowing-techniek?
Shadowing is een wetenschappelijk onderbouwde taalleermethode die oorspronkelijk is ontwikkeld voor professionele tolkentraining en gepopulariseerd door polyglot Dr. Alexander Arguelles. De methode is eenvoudig maar krachtig: je luistert naar native Engelse audio en herhaalt het onmiddellijk hardop — als een schaduw die de spreker volgt met slechts 1–2 seconden vertraging. In tegenstelling tot passief luisteren of grammaticadrills, dwingt shadowing je hersenen en mondspieren om echte spraakpatronen tegelijkertijd te verwerken en te reproduceren. Onderzoek toont aan dat het de uitspraaknauwkeurigheid, intonatie, ritme, verbonden spraak, luisterbegrip en spreekvaardigheid aanzienlijk verbetert — waardoor het een van de meest effectieve methoden is voor IELTS Speaking-voorbereiding en echte Engelse communicatie.