All go out.
SCENE VI
Anna Andreyevna and Marya Antonovna rush in on the stage.
ANNA. Where are they? Where are they? Oh, my god! (opening the door.) Husband! Antosha! Anton! (hurriedly, to Marya.) It's all your fault. Dawdling! Dawdling!—"I want a pin—I want a scarf." (Runs to the window and calls.) Anton, where are you going? Where are you going? What! He has come? The Inspector? He has a moustache? What kind of a moustache?
GOVERNOR (from without). Wait, dear. Later.
ANNA. Wait? I don't want to wait. The idea, wait! I only want one word. Is he a colonel or what? Eh? (Disgusted.) There, he's gone! You'll pay for it! It's all your fault—you, with your "Mamma, dear, wait a moment, I'll just pin my scarf. I'll come directly." Yes, directly! Now we have missed the news. It's all your confounded coquettishness. You heard the Postmaster was here and so you must prink and prim yourself in front of the mirror—look on this side and that side and all around. You imagine he's smitten with you. But I can tell you he makes a face at you the moment you turn your back.
MARYA. It can't be helped, mamma. We'll know everything in a couple of hours anyway.
ANNA. In a couple of hours! Thank you! A nice answer. Why don't you say, in a month. We'll know still more in a month. (She leans out of the window.) Here, Avdotya! I say! Have you heard whether anybody has come, Avdotya?— No, you goose, you didn't — He waved his hands? Well, what of it? Let him wave his hands. But you should have asked him anyhow. You couldn't find out, of course, with your head full of nonsense and lovers. Eh, what? They left in a hurry? Well, you should have run after the carriage. Off with you, off with you at once, do you hear? Run and ask everybody where they are. Be sure and find out who the newcomer is and what he is like, do you hear? Peep through a crack and find everything out —what sort of eyes he has, whether they are black or blue, and be back here instantly, this minute, do you hear? Quick, quick, quick!
She keeps on calling and they both stand at the window until the curtain drops.
ACT II
A small room in the inn, bed, table, travelling bag, empty bottle, boots, clothes brush, etc.
SCENE I
OSIP (lying on his master's bed). The devil take it! I'm so hungry. There's a racket in my belly, as if a whole regiment were blowing trumpets. We'll never reach home. I'd like to know what we are going to do. Two months already since we left St. Pete. He's gone through all his cash, the precious buck, so now he sticks here with his tail between his legs and takes it easy. We'd have had enough and more than enough to pay for the fare, but no he must exhibit himself in every town. (Imitates him.) "Osip, get me the best room to be had and order the best dinner they serve. I can't stand bad food. I must have the best." It would be all right for a somebody, but for a common copying clerk! Goes and gets acquainted with the other travellers, plays cards, and plays himself out of his last penny. Oh, I'm sick of this life. It's better in our village, really. There isn't so much going on, but then there is less to bother about. You get yourself a wife and lie on the stove all the time and eat pie. Of course, if you wanted to tell the truth, there's no denying it that there's nothing like living in St. Pete. All you want is money. And then you can live smart and classy—theeadres, dogs to dance for you, everything, and everybody talks so genteel, pretty near like in high society. If you go to the Schukin bazaar, the shopkeepers cry, "Gentlemen," at you. You sit with the officials in the ferry boat. If you want company, you go into a shop. A sport there will tell you about life in the barracks and explain the meaning of every star in the sky, so that you see them all as if you held them in your hand. Then an old officer's wife will gossip, or a pretty chambermaid will dart a look at you—ta, ta, ta! (Smirks and wags his head.) And what deucedly civil manners they have, too. You never hear no impolite language. They always say "Mister" to you. If you are tired of walking, why you take a cab and sit in it like a lord. And if you don't feel like paying, then you don't. Every house has an open-work gate and you can slip through and the devil himself won't catch you. There's one bad thing, though; sometimes you get first class eats and sometimes you're so starved you nearly drop—like now. It's all his fault. What can you do with him? His dad sends him money to keep him going, but the devil a lot it does. He goes off on a spree, rides in cabs, gets me to buy a theeadre ticket for him every day, and in a week look at him—sends me to the old clo'es man to sell his new dress coat. Sometimes he gets rid of everything down to his last shirt and is left with nothing except his coat and overcoat. Upon my word, it's the truth. And such fine cloth, too. English, you know. One dress coat costs him a hundred and fifty rubles and he sells it to the old clo'es man for twenty. No use saying nothing about his pants. They go for a song. And why? Because he doesn't tend to his business. Instead of sticking to his job, he gads about on the Prospect and plays cards. Ah, if the old gentleman only knew it! He wouldn't care that you are an official. He'd lift up your little shirtie and would lay it on so that you'd go about rubbing yourself for a week. If you have a job, stick to it. Here's the innkeeper says he won't let you have anything to eat unless you pay your back bills. Well, and suppose we don't pay. (Sighing.) Oh, good God! If only I could get cabbage soup. I think I could eat up the whole world now. There's a knock at the door. I suppose it's him. (Rises from the bed hastily.)
SCENE II
Osip and Khlestakov.
KHLESTAKOV. Here! (Hands him his cap and cane.) What, been warming the bed again!
OSIP. Why should i have been warming the bed? Have I never seen a bed before?
KHLESTAKOV. You're lying. The bed's all tumbled up.
OSIP. What do i want a bed for? Don't i know what a bed is like? I have legs and can use them to stand on. I don't need your bed.
KHLESTAKOV (walking up and down the room). Go see if there isn't some tobacco in the pouch.
OSIP. What tobacco? You emptied it out four days ago.
KHLESTAKOV (pacing the room and twisting his lips. Finally he says in a loud resolute voice). Listen—a —Osip.
OSIP. Yes, sir?
KHLESTAKOV (In a voice just as loud, but not quite so resolute). Go down there.