The Russian Masters: Works by Dostoevsky, Chekhov, Tolstoy, Pushkin, Gogol, Turgenev and More. Максим Горький

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ that it's a serious matter, I've got to eat. As for the money, of course—He thinks that because a muzhik like him can go without food a whole day others can too. The idea!

      SERVANT. Well, all right. I'll tell him.

      The Servant and Osip go out.

      SCENE V

      Khlestakov alone.

      KHLESTAKOV. A bad business if he refuses to let me have anything. I'm so hungry. I've never been so hungry in my life. Shall I try to raise something on my clothes? Shall I sell my trousers? No, I'd rather starve than come home without a St. Petersburg suit. It's a shame Joachim wouldn't let me have a carriage on hire. It would have been great to ride home in a carriage, drive up under the porte-cochere of one of the neighbors with lamps lighted and Osip behind in livery. Imagine the stir it would have created. "Who is it? What's that?" Then my footman walks in [draws himself up and imitates] and an-nounces: "Ivan Aleksandrovich Khlestakov of St. Petersburg. Will you receive him?" Those country lubbers don't even know what it means to "receive." If any lout of a country squire pays them a visit, he stalks straight into the drawing-room like a bear. Then you step up to one of their pretty girls and say: "Dee-lighted, madam." [Rubs his hands and bows.] Phew! [Spits.] I feel positively sick, I'm so hungry.

      SCENE VI

      Khlestakov, Osip, and later the Servant.

      KHLESTAKOV. Well?

      OSIP. They're bringing dinner.

      KHLESTAKOV [claps his hands and wriggles in his chair]. Dinner, dinner, dinner!

      SERVANT [with plates and napkin]. This is the last time the landlord will let you have dinner.

      KHLESTAKOV. The landlord, the landlord! I spit on your landlord. What have you got there?

      SERVANT. Soup and roast beef.

      KHLESTAKOV. What! Only two courses?

      SERVANT. That's all.

      KHLESTAKOV. Nonsense! I won't take it. What does he mean by that? Ask him. It's not enough.

      SERVANT. The landlord says it's too much.

      KHLESTAKOV. Why is there no sauce?

      SERVANT. There is none.

      KHLESTAKOV. Why not? I saw them preparing a whole lot when I passed through the kitchen. And in the dining-room this morning two short little men were eating salmon and lots of other things.

      SERVANT. Well, you see, there is some and there isn't.

      KHLESTAKOV. Why "isn't"?

      SERVANT. Because there isn't any.

      KHLESTAKOV. What, no salmon, no fish, no cutlets?

      SERVANT. Only for the better kind of folk.

      KHLESTAKOV. You're a fool.

      SERVANT. Yes, sir.

      KHLESTAKOV. You measly suckling pig. Why can they eat and I not? Why the devil can't I eat, too? Am I not a guest the same as they?

      SERVANT. No, not the same. That's plain.

      KHLESTAKOV. How so?

      SERVANT. That's easy. THEY pay, that's it.

      KHLESTAKOV. I'm not going to argue with you, simpleton! [Ladles out the soup and begins to eat.] What, you call that soup? Simply hot water poured into a cup. No taste to it at all. It only stinks. I don't want it. Bring me some other soup.

      SERVANT. All right. I'll take it away. The boss said if you didn't want it, you needn't take it.

      KHLESTAKOV [putting his hand over the dishes]. Well, well, leave it alone, you fool. You may be used to treat other people this way, but I'm not that sort. I advise you not to try it on me. My God! What soup! [Goes on eating.] I don't think anybody in the world tasted such soup. Feathers floating on the top instead of butter. [Cuts the piece of chicken in the soup.] Oh, oh, oh! What a bird!—Give me the roast beef. There's a little soup left, Osip. Take it. [Cuts the meat.] What sort of roast beef is this? This isn't roast beef.

      SERVANT. What else is it?

      KHLESTAKOV. The devil knows, but it isn't roast beef. It's roast iron, not roast beef. [Eats.] Scoundrels! Crooks! The stuff they give you to eat! It makes your jaws ache to chew one piece of it. [Picks his teeth with his fingers.] Villains! It's as tough as the bark of a tree. I can't pull it out no matter how hard I try. Such meat is enough to ruin one's teeth. Crooks! [Wipes his mouth with the napkin.] Is there nothing else?

      SERVANT. No.

      KHLESTAKOV. Scoundrels! Blackguards! They might have given some decent pastry, or something, the lazy good-for-nothings! Fleecing their guests! That's all they're good for.

      [The Servant takes the dishes and carries them out accompanied by Osip.]

      SCENE VII

      Khlestakov alone.

      KHLESTAKOV. It's just as if I had eaten nothing at all, upon my word. It has only whetted my appetite. If I only had some change to send to the market and buy some bread.

      OSIP [entering]. The Governor has come, I don't know what for. He's inquiring about you.

      KHLESTAKOV [in alarm]. There now! That inn-keeper has gone and made a complaint against me. Suppose he really claps me into jail? Well! If he does it in a gentlemanly way, I may—No, no, I won't. The officers and the people are all out on the street and I set the fashion for them and the merchant's daughter and I flirted. No, I won't. And pray, who is he? How dare he, actually? What does he take me for? A tradesman? I'll tell him straight out, "How dare you? How—"

      [The door knob turns and Khlestakov goes pale and shrinks back.]

      SCENE VIII

      Khlestakov, the Governor, and Dobchinsky.

      The Governor advances a few steps and stops. They stare at each other a few moments wide-eyed and frightened.

      GOVERNOR [recovering himself a little and saluting military fashion]. I have come to present my compliments, sir.

      KHLESTAKOV [bows]. How do you do, sir?

      GOVERNOR. Excuse my intruding.

      KHLESTAKOV. Pray don't mention it.

      GOVERNOR. It's my duty as chief magistrate of this town to see that visitors and persons of rank should suffer no inconveniences.

      KHLESTAKOV [a little halting at first, but toward the end in a loud, firm voice]. Well—what was—to be—done? It's not—my fault. I'm—really going to pay. They will send me money from home. [Bobchinsky peeps in at the door.] He's most to blame. He gives me beef as hard as a board and the СКАЧАТЬ