The Leviathan

II

HIS CUSTOMERS WERE both rich and poor, regular and occasional. Among his rich customers were two local farmers. One of them, Timon Semyonovitch, was a hop grower, and every year when the buyers came down from Nuremberg and Zatec and Judenburg, he made a number of profitable deals. The other farmer was Nikita Ivanovitch. He had no fewer than eight daughters, whom he was marrying off one after the other, and all needed corals. The married daughters — to date there were four of them — a month or two after their weddings gave birth to children of their own — more daughters — and these too required corals, though they were only infants, to ward off the Evil Eye.

The members of these two families were the most esteemed guests in Nissen Piczenik’s house. For the daughters of these farmers, their sons-in-law and their grandchildren, the merchant kept a supply of good brandy in reserve, homemade brandy flavored with ants, dried mushrooms, parsley, and centaury. The ordinary customers had to be content with ordinary shop-bought vodka. For in that part of the world there was no purchasing anything without a drink. Buyer and seller drank to the transaction, that it might bring profit and blessing to both parties. There were also heaps of loose tobacco in the apartment of the coral merchant, lying by the window, wrapped in damp blotting paper to keep it fresh. For customers didn’t come to Nissen Piczenik the way people go into a shop, merely to buy the goods, pay, and leave. The majority of the customers had covered many versts, and to Nissen Piczenik they were more than customers, they were also his guests. They drank with him, smoked with him, and sometimes even ate with him. The merchant’s wife prepared buckwheat kasha with onions, borscht with sour cream, she roasted apples and potatoes, and chestnuts in the autumn. And so the customers were not just customers, they were guests of Nissen Piczenik’s house. Sometimes, while they were hunting for suitable corals, the farmers’ wives would join in the singing of the threaders; then they all would sing together, and even Nissen Piczenik would hum to himself, and in the kitchen his wife would beat time with a wooden spoon. Then, when the farmers returned from the market or from the inn to pick up their wives and pay for their purchases, the coral merchant would be obliged to drink brandy or tea with them, and smoke a cigarette. And all the old customers would kiss the merchant on both cheeks like a brother.

Because once we have got a drink or two inside us, all good honest men are our brothers, and all fair women our sisters — and there is no difference between farmer and merchant, Jew and Christian; and woe to anyone who says otherwise!