Yet so gluttonous and idle are my serfs that they are simply bursting with food, whereas I scarcely get enough to eat.

I will take any price for them that you may care to offer.

Tell your friends about it, and, should they find even a score of the runaways, it will repay them handsomely, seeing that a living serf on the census list is at present worth five hundred roubles." "Perhaps so, but I am not going to let any one but myself have a finger in this," thought Chichikov to himself; after which he explained to Plushkin that a friend of the kind mentioned would be impossible to discover, since the legal expenses of the enterprise would lead to the said friend having to cut the very tail from his coat before he would get clear of the lawyers.
"Nevertheless," added Chichikov, "seeing that you are so hard pressed for money, and that I am so interested in the matter, I feel moved to advance you--well, to advance you such a trifle as would scarcely be worth mentioning." "But how much is it ?" asked Plushkin eagerly, and with his hands trembling like quicksilver.
"Twenty-five kopecks per soul." "What?
In ready money ?" "Yes--in money down." "Nevertheless, consider my poverty, dear friend, and make it FORTY kopecks per soul." "Venerable sir, would that I could pay you not merely forty kopecks, but five hundred roubles.

I should be only too delighted if that were possible, since I perceive that you, an aged and respected gentleman, are suffering for your own goodness of heart." "By God, that is true, that is true." Plushkin hung his head, and wagged it feebly from side to side.

"Yes, all that I have done I have done purely out of kindness." "See how instantaneously I have divined your nature! By now it will have become clear to you why it is impossible for me to pay you five hundred roubles per runaway soul: for by now you will have gathered the fact that I am not sufficiently rich.