Oblomov / Обломов. Книга для чтения на английском языке

He tried to grasp the whole meaning of that comparison and analyse what the others were and what he was, and to what an extent a parallel between him and other people was justified, and how gravely Zakhar had insulted him. Finally, he wondered whether Zakhar had insulted him consciously, that is to say, whether he was convinced that he, Oblomov, was the same as «another», or whether the words had escaped him without thinking. All this hurt Oblomov’s vanity and he decided to show Zakhar the difference between himself and those «others» and make him feel the whole baseness of his action.

В«Zakhar!В» he called solemnly in a drawn-out voice.

Hearing this call, Zakhar did not growl or jump off the stove as usual, making a noise with his feet, but got down slowly and, brushing against everything with his arms and sides, walked out of his room quietly and reluctantly like a dog which knows by the sound of its master’s voice that its trick has been discovered and that it is being called to receive punishment.

Zakhar half opened the door, but did not venture to go in.

В«Come in!В» said Oblomov.

Though the door could be opened easily, Zakhar opened it only an inch and stuck in the doorway instead of walking in.

Oblomov was sitting on the edge of his couch.

В«Come here!В» Oblomov ordered.

Zakhar disentangled himself from the door with difficulty, but at once closed it behind him and leant against it firmly with his back.

В«Here!В» said Oblomov, pointing to a place beside him.

Zakhar took half a step and stopped five yards from the place indicated.

В«Nearer!В» said Oblomov.

Zakhar pretended to take another step, but merely swayed forward, stamped his foot, and remained where he was. Seeing that this time he could not make Zakhar come nearer, Oblomov let him stay where he was and looked at him for some time reproachfully and in silence. Embarrassed by this silent contemplation of his person, Zakhar pretended not to notice his master and stood turning away from him more than usual and did not even at that moment look at Oblomov out of the corner of his eye.

He looked stubbornly to the left, where he saw a long-familiar sight: the fringe of the spider’s web round the pictures and the spider – a living reproach to his remissness.

В«Zakhar!В» Oblomov said quietly and with dignity.

Zakhar made no answer.