After a brief after-dinner nap, he had an elaborate wash, changed his linen, and finally donned a cranberry- coloured, swallow-tailed coat. Having dressed in this fashion, he drove in his own carriage along the wide, interminable streets, illuminated by the feeble light gleaming here and there from the windows. However, the governor’s house was illuminated as though for a ball: there were calashes with lanterns, two sentries at the entrance, and postilions’ shouts in the distance; in short, all that was requisite. Tchitchikoff was almost forced to close his eyes on his entrance into the drawing-room, for the glare of the candles, the lamps, and the ladies’ dresses was terrible. Everything was flooded with light. Black dress-coats, moreover, fluttered hither and thither, and Tchitchikoff had not succeeded in looking about him when his arm was seized by the governor, who at once presented him to his wife. The newly-arrived guest thereupon favoured the lady with a compliment—a very polite one for a middle-aged man whose official rank was neither very high nor very low. When the couples of dancers drove everyone against the walls as they came to a stand-still, he put his hands behind his back and looked at them very attentively for a couple of minutes. Many ladies were dressed fashionably and well; others were clothed with whatever God had sent to that provincial town. The men here, as everywhere else, were of two sorts. Some were slender, and hovered incessantly about the ladies; a few of them—who were only with difficulty distinguishable from Petersburgians—wore tastefully arranged whiskers, or had fine-looking, smoothly shaven faces.

These seated themselves beside the ladies, talked to them in French, and threw them into confusion exactly as if they were in the capital. The other men consisted of the stout ones, or those who were like the stranger, Tchitchikoff; that is, not so very fat, and yet not thin. These latter looked askance at the ladies, and retreated from them, casting sidelong glances about them to discover whether the governor’s servants had set out the green tables for whist anywhere. Their faces were full and round, some of them had beards, here and there one of them was pock-marked. These were the prominent officials of the town.

Alas! fat men know better how to manage their affairs in this world than thin ones do. The thin ones only serve on special commissions, or are merely in the ranks, and change about here and there; their existence is too light in some way, too airy, and not to be depended upon. But the stout ones never fill minor positions, they always hold responsible ones; and if they do settle down anywhere, they do so forcibly and reliably, so that the place itself trembles and threatens to give way beneath them. They are not fond of external glitter; their coats are not so skilfully cut as the thin men’s coats; but, on the other hand, they have plenty of cash in their coffers.

Tchitchikoff thought of all this as he surveyed the company, and the result was that he finally joined the stout men, among whom he found nearly all his acquaintances. The procurator, who had very black, thick brows, and a left eye which was rather given to winking, as much as to say, “Come into the other room, my boy, and I’ll tell you something!” He was a serious and reticent man, however. Then there was the postmaster, a man of low stature, but a wit and a philosopher; and the president of the court, a very sensible and amiable man. All these greeted Tchitchikoff as an old friend, whereupon he bowed, somewhat on one side, but not without courtesy. He next made the acquaintance of a very polite and friendly landowner, Maniloff, and of a rather awkward one, Sobakevitch, who trod on his foot the very first thing, and said, “I beg your pardon!”

They all immediately asked him to join them at whist, and he agreed to do so with a very good grace. They seated themselves at a small table and did not rise until supper-time. All conversation entirely ceased, as is proper when people give themselves up to active business. Although the postmaster was very talkative, even he, as soon as he had taken his cards in his hand, thought fit to assume a thoughtful expression and puckered up his lips. He remained thus all the time that the game lasted. Whenever he played a court-card, however, he smote the table heavily with his hand, saying, if it were the queen, “Go along, old popess!” and if the king, “Away with you, you Tamboff moujik!” And the president constantly exclaimed, “I’ve got him by the moustache!” or “I’ve got her by the moustache!” Sometimes as the cards fell on the table, exclamations resounded such as, “Ah! to be, or not to be”; “There’s nothing to be done”; “So there’s a diamond!” and so on. At the end of the game the players disputed loudly, and the traveller