Page:Dead Souls - A Poem by Nikolay Gogol - vol2.djvu/222

212 'Your words are sweet to me, honoured Konstantin Fyodorovitch,' Tchitchikov brought out. 'I may say that in all Russia I have not met your equal in intelligence.'

Skudronzhoglo smiled. 'No, Pavel Ivanovitch,' he said, 'if you want to know an intelligent man, we really have one man whom one might call an intelligent man, and I am not worth the sole of his old shoe.'

'Who is that?' Tchitchikov asked with surprise.

'It is our government contractor, Murazov.'

'This is the second time I have heard of him.'

'He is a man who could administer not merely an estate but a whole kingdom. If I had a kingdom I should immediately make him the minister of finance.'

'I have heard it said that he is a man of abilities beyond all belief: he has made ten millions.'

'Ten millions, it must be more than forty. Soon half Russia will be in his hands.'

'What do you mean?' cried Tchitchikov, amazed.

'It certainly will be. His wealth must be increasing now at a terrible rate. That's evident. A man gets rich slowly if he has a few hundred thousands; but when a man has a million he has a wide range: whatever he takes up is soon doubled and trebled. His field of action is so wide. And he has no rivals in it either: there is no one to compete with him. Whatever price he fixes stands: there is no one to knock it down.'