X
Useless were Saranin’s tears and his lamentations?—what did Strigal and his associates care about them?
They paid. They effectuated their rights. The ruthless rights of capital.
The power of capital provides even the court councillor and knight with a position completely in accordance with his precise dimensions, but not in the least harmonising with his pride. Dressed up in the latest fashion, the pygmy runs to and fro in the window of the fashion emporium—now feasting his gaze on the fair ladies of such colossal size!—now spitefully threatening the gleeful children with his fists.
There was a mob round the windows of Strigal and Co.
The assistants in Strigal and Co.’s store trod on each other’s toes.
Strigal and Co.’s workshop was flooded with orders.
Strigal and Co. attain renown.
Strigal and Co. extend their workshops.
Strigal and Co. are rich.
Strigal and Co. buy up houses.
Strigal and Co. are magnanimous; they feed Saranin right royally, they do not stint his wife for money.
Aglaya is already receiving a thousand a month.
More income still has fallen to Aglaya’s share.
And acquaintances.
And lovers.
And brilliants.
And carriages.
And a mansion.
Aglaya is merry and contented. She has grown still larger. She wears high-heeled shoes. She selects hats of gigantic proportions.
When she visits her husband, she fondles him and feeds him from her hand like a bird. Saranin in a stumpy-tailed dress-suit trots about with tiny steps on the table in front of her and squeaks something. His voice is as penetrating as the squeak of a gnat. But the words are not audible.
Tiny little folk can speak, but their squeaking is not audible to people of large proportions—neither to Aglaya, nor to Strigal, nor to any of the company. Aglaya, surrounded by shop-assistants, hears the mannikin’s whining and squeaking. She laughs and goes away.
They carry Saranin into the window, where, in a nest of soft materials, a whole lodging is arranged for him, with the open side turned towards the public.
The street urchins see the mannikin sitting down at the table and preparing to write his petitions. His tiny little petitions for his rights, which have been violated by Aglaya, Strigal and Co.
He writes. He knocks against the envelope. The urchins laugh.
In the meanwhile, Aglaya is sitting in her splendid carriage. She is going for a jaunt before lunch.