POSTMASTER. How do i feel? How do you feel about it, Anton Antonovich?
GOVERNOR. I? Well, i'm not afraid, but i just feel a little—you know— The merchants and townspeople bother me. I seem to be unpopular with them. But the Lord knows if I've taken from some I've done it without a trace of ill-feeling. I even suspect— (Takes him by the arm and walks aside with him.)—I even suspect that I may have been denounced. Or why would they send an Inspector to us? Look here, Ivan Kuzmich, don't you think you could—ahem!—just open a little every letter that passes through your office and read it— for the common benefit of us all, you know—to see if it contains any kind of information against me, or is only ordinary correspondence. If it is all right, you can seal it up again, or simply deliver the letter opened.
POSTMASTER. Oh, i know. You needn't teach me that. I do it not so much as a precaution as out of curiosity. I just itch to know what's doing in the world. And it's very interesting reading, I tell you. Some letters are fascinating—parts of them written grand— more edifying than the Moscow Gazette.
GOVERNOR. Tell me, then, have you read anything about any official from St. Petersburg?
POSTMASTER. No, nothing about a st. Petersburg official, but plenty about Kostroma and Saratov ones. A pity you don't read the letters. There are some very fine passages in them. For instance, not long ago a lieutenant writes to a friend describing a ball very wittily.— Splendid! "Dear friend," he says, "I live in the regions of the Empyrean, lots of girls, bands playing, flags flying." He's put a lot of feeling into his description, a whole lot. I've kept the letter on purpose. Would you like to read it?
GOVERNOR. No, this is no time for such things. But please, Ivan Kuzmich, do me the favor, if ever you chance upon a complaint or denunciation, don't hesitate a moment, hold it back.
POSTMASTER. I will, with the greatest pleasure.
AMMOS. You had better be careful. You may get yourself into trouble.
POSTMASTER. Goodness me!
GOVERNOR. Never mind, never mind. Of course, it would be different if you published it broadcast. But it's a private affair, just between us.
AMMOS. Yes, it's a bad business—i really came here to make you a present of a puppy, sister to the dog you know about. I suppose you have heard that Cheptovich and Varkhovinsky have started a suit. So now I live in clover. I hunt hares first on the one's estate, then on the other's.
GOVERNOR. I don't care about your hares now, my good friend. That cursed incognito is on my brain. Any moment the door may open and in walk—
SCENE III
Enter Bobchinskyand Dobchinsky, out of breath.
BOBCHINSKY. What an extraordinary occurrence!
DOBCHINSKY. An unexpected piece of news!
ALL. What is it? What is it?
DOBCHINSKY. Something quite unforeseen. We were about to enter the inn—
BOBCHINSKY(Interrupting). Yes, Piotr Ivanovich and I were entering the inn—
DOBCHINSKY(Interrupting). Please, Piotr Ivanovich, let me tell.
BOBCHINSKY. No, please, let me—let me. You can't. You haven't got the style for it.
DOBCHINSKY. Oh, but you'll get mixed up and won't remember everything.
BOBCHINSKY. Yes, i will, upon my word, i will. Please don't interrupt! Do let me tell the news—don't interrupt! Pray, oblige me, gentlemen, and tell Dobchinsky not to interrupt.
GOVERNOR. Speak, for heaven's sake! What is it? My heart is in my mouth! Sit down, gentlemen, take seats. Piotr Ivanovich, here's a chair for you. ( All seat themselves around Bobchinsky and Dobchinsky.)Well, now, what is it? What is it?
BOBCHINSKY. Permit me, permit me. I'll tell it all just as it happened. As soon as I had the pleasure of taking leave of you after you were good enough to be bothered with the letter which you had received, sir, I ran out—now, please don't keep interrupting, Dobchinsky. I know all about it, all, I tell you.— So I ran out to see Korobkin. But not finding Korobkin at home, I went off to Rastakovsky, and not seeing him, I went to Ivan Kuzmich to tell him of the news you'd got. Going on from there I met Dobchinsky—
DOBCHINSKY(interjecting). At the stall where they sell pies—
BOBCHINSKY. At the stall where they sell pies. Well, i met Dobchinsky and I said to him: "Have you heard the news that came to Anton Antonovich in a letter which is absolutely reliable?" But Piotr Ivanovich had already heard of it from your housekeeper, Avdotya, who, I don't know why, had been sent to Filipp Antonovich Pachechuyev—
DOBCHINSKY(Interrupting). To get a little keg for French brandy.
BOBCHINSKY. Yes, to get a little keg for french brandy. So then I went with Dobchinsky to Pachechuyev's.— Will you stop, Piotr Ivanovich? Please don't interrupt.— So off we went to Pachechuyev's, and on the way Dobchinsky said: "Let's go to the inn," he said. "I haven't eaten a thing since morning. My stomach is growling." Yes, sir, his stomach was growling. "They've just got in a supply of fresh salmon at the inn," he said. "Let's take a bite." We had hardly entered the inn when we saw a young man—
DOBCHINSKY(Interrupting). Of rather good appearance and dressed in ordinary citizen's clothes.
BOBCHINSKY. Yes, of rather good appearance and dressed in citizen's clothes—walking up and down the room. There was something out of the usual about his face, you know, something deep—and a manner about him—and here (raises his hand to his forehead and turns it around several times)full, full of everything. I had a sort of feeling, and I said to Dobchinsky, "Something's up. This is no ordinary matter." Yes, and Dobchinsky beckoned to the landlord, Vlas, the innkeeper, you know,—three weeks ago his wife presented him with a baby—a bouncer—he'll grow up just like his father and keep a tavern.— Well, we beckoned to Vlas, and Dobchinsky asked him on the quiet, "Who," he asked, "is that young man?" "That young man," Vlas replied, "that young man"— Oh, don't interrupt, Piotr Ivanovich, please don't interrupt. You can't tell the story. Upon my word, you can't. You lisp and one tooth in your mouth makes you whistle. I know what I'm saying. "That young man," he said, "is an official."— Yes, sir.— "On his way from St. Petersburg. And his name," he said, "is Ivan Aleksandrovich Khlestakov, and he's going," he said "to the government of Saratov," he said. "And he acts so queerly. It's the second week he's been here and he's never left the house; and he won't pay a penny, takes everything on account." When Vlas told me that, a light dawned on me from above, and I said to Piotr Ivanovich, "Hey!"—
DOBCHINSKY. No, Piotr Ivanovich, i said "hey!"
BOBCHINSKY. Well first you said it, then i did. "hey!" said both of us, "And why does he stick here if he's going to Saratov?"— Yes, sir, that's he, the official.
GOVERNOR. Who? What official?
BOBCHINSKY. Why, the official who you were notified was coming, the Inspector.
GOVERNOR(terrified). Great God! What's that you're saying. It can't be he.
DOBCHINSKY. It is, though. Why, he doesn't pay his bills and he doesn't leave. Who else can it be? And his postchaise is ordered for Saratov.
BOBCHINSKY. It's he, it's he, it's he—why, he's so alert, he scrutinized everything. He saw that Dobchinsky and I were eating salmon—chiefly on account of Dobchinsky's stomach—and he looked at our plates so hard that I was frightened to death.
GOVERNOR. The lord have mercy on us sinners! In what room is he staying?