Gogol Nikolay Vasilievich. Gogol Nikolai Vasilievich - Dead Souls Read Chapter 3 of Dead Souls

The next day, Chichikov went to dinner and evening to the police chief, where from three o'clock in the afternoon they sat down to whist and played until two in the morning. There, by the way, he met the landowner Nozdryov, a man of about thirty, a broken fellow, who, after three or four words, began to say “you” to him. With the police chief and the prosecutor, Nozdryov was also on "you" and treated in a friendly way; but when they sat down to play a big game, the police chief and the prosecutor examined his bribes with extreme attention and watched almost every card with which he walked. The next day, Chichikov spent the evening with the chairman of the chamber, who received his guests in a dressing gown, somewhat greasy, including two ladies. Then he was at a party with the vice-governor, at a big dinner at the farmer's, at a small dinner at the prosecutor's, which, however, cost a lot; on an after-mass snack given by the mayor, which was also worth dinner. In a word, he did not have to stay at home for a single hour, and he came to the hotel only to fall asleep. The visitor somehow knew how to find himself in everything and showed himself an experienced secular person. Whatever the conversation was about, he always knew how to support it: if it was about a horse farm, he talked about a horse farm; whether they talked about good dogs, and here he reported very sensible remarks; whether they interpreted with regard to the investigation carried out by the Treasury, he showed that he was not unknown to judicial tricks; whether there was a discussion about the billiard game - and in the billiard game he did not miss; whether they talked about virtue, and he talked about virtue very well, even with tears in his eyes; about the manufacture of hot wine, and he knew the use of hot wine; about customs overseers and officials, and he judged them as if he himself were both an official and an overseer. But it is remarkable that he knew how to clothe all this with some degree, knew how to behave well. He spoke neither loudly nor softly, but exactly as he should. In a word, wherever you turn, he was a very decent person. All the officials were pleased with the arrival of the new face. The governor said of him that he was a well-intentioned man; the prosecutor - that he is a good person; the gendarmerie colonel said that he was a learned man; the chairman of the chamber - that he is a knowledgeable and respectable person; police chief - that he is a respectable and amiable person; the wife of the chief of police - that he is the most kind and courteous person. Even Sobakevich himself, who rarely spoke of anyone in a good way, having arrived rather late from the city and already completely undressed and lay down on the bed next to his thin wife, said to her: dined, and got acquainted with the collegiate adviser Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov: a pleasant man! ” To which the wife replied: “Hm!” and kicked him with her foot.

Such an opinion, very flattering to the guest, was formed about him in the city, and it was held until one strange property of the guest and an enterprise, or, as they say in the provinces, a passage, about which the reader will soon learn, did not lead to complete bewilderment almost the whole city.

volume two
surviving chapters of a later edition

Dead Souls

Chapter Three

If Colonel Koshkarev is definitely crazy. that’s not bad,” said Chichikov, finding himself again in the midst of open fields and spaces, when everything had disappeared and only one vault of heaven and two clouds remained aside.

Have you, Selifan, asked carefully how the road to Colonel Koshkarev is?

I, Pavel Ivanovich, if you please, as I kept busy around the carriage, so I had no time; and Petrushka asked the coachman.

Here is the fool! It is said not to rely on Petrushka: Parsley is a log. Parsley is stupid; Parsley, tea, and now drunk.

After all, there is no wisdom here! - said Petrushka, half turning around and looking askance. - Except for the fact that, going down from the mountain, to take a meadow, there is nothing else.

And you, besides the fuselage, did not take anything in your mouth? Good, very good! One could say that he surprised Europe with its beauty! - Saying this, Chichikov stroked his chin and thought: "What, however, is the difference between an enlightened citizen and a rude lackey physiognomy!"

Meanwhile the carriage began to descend. Meadows and spaces dotted with aspen groves opened up again.

Quietly quivering on elastic springs, the deceased carriage continued carefully descending in an imperceptible slope and finally rushed through the meadows past the mills, with a slight thunder over the bridges, with a slight swaying over the shaking crumb of the low-lying earth. And at least one bump or bump made itself felt on the sides! consolation, and<не>stroller. In the distance the sands flickered. Bushes of vines, thin alders and silvery poplars quickly flew past them, hitting Selifan and Petrushka sitting on the goats with their branches. Every minute they threw off the cap from the latter. The stern servant jumped down from the goat, scolded the stupid tree and the owner who planted it, but he did not want to tie his cap or even hold it with his hand, hoping that the last time would not happen any further. Birch soon joined the trees, there was spruce. U. roots thick; grass-blue iris * and yellow forest tulip. [The impenetrable darkness of the endless forest thickened and seemed to] be preparing to turn into night. But suddenly flashes of light flashed from everywhere, like shining mirrors. The trees thinned out, the brilliance became greater, and now in front of them was a lake - a water plain, four versts across. On the opposite shore, above the lake, a village spilled out with gray log huts. Screams were heard in the water. About twenty people, waist-deep, shoulder-deep and throat-deep in water, pulled a net to the opposite bank. There was an opportunity: together with the fish, somehow a round man got entangled, the same measure in height as in thickness, an exact watermelon or a barrel. He was in a desperate situation and shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Telep Denis, tell Kozma! Kozma, take the end from Denis! Don't push like that, Big Foma! The watermelon, apparently, was not afraid for itself: because of its thickness, it could not drown, and no matter how it tumbled, wanting to dive, the water would carry it all upstairs; and if two more sat on his back, he would, like a stubborn bubble, remain with them at the top of the water, only slightly grunting under them and blowing blisters with his nose. But he was very afraid that the net would not break and the fish would not leave, and therefore, among other things, several people standing on the shore dragged him with ropes still thrown over.

* ...ir (calamus) - a marsh plant with long leaves.

There must be a gentleman, Colonel Koshkarev, - said Selifan.

Because his body, if you please, is whiter than that of others, and his dignity is respectful, like that of a gentleman.

The gentleman, entangled in the net, meanwhile was pulled significantly to the shore. Feeling that he could reach with his feet, he got to his feet, and at that moment he saw a carriage descending from the dam and Chichikov sitting in it.

Did you have lunch? - the master shouted, approaching the shore with the fish he had caught, all entangled in a net, like a lady’s pen in a transparent glove in the summer, holding one hand over his eyes with a visor to protect from the sun, the other lower, in the manner of Venus Medicea emerging from baths.

No,” said Chichikov, lifting his cap and continuing to bow from the carriage.

Well, thank God!

And what? Chichikov asked curiously, holding his cap over his head.

And here's what. [Throw, Thomas the Less, the net, but lift up] sturgeon from the pelvis! Telepen Kozma, go help!

Two fishermen raised the head of some monster from the pelvis.

Bona what a prince! He came out of the river! - the round gentleman shouted. - Go to the yard! Coachman, take the road lower, through the garden! Shoots, Foma Bolshoy telepen, remove the partition! He will guide you, and I now.

The long-legged, barefoot Thomas Big, as he was, in one shirt, ran in front of the carriage through the whole village, where every hut hung out nonsense, nets and muzzles: all the peasants were fishermen; then he took out a partition from some vegetable garden, and a carriage drove through the vegetable gardens to the square, near the wooden church. Behind the church, further away, the roofs of the master's buildings were visible.

"This Koshkarev is an eccentric," thought Chichikov to himself.

And here I am! came a voice from the side. Chichikov looked around. The master was already riding beside him, dressed: a grass-green nanke frock coat, yellow trousers and a neck without a tie, in the manner of a Cupid! He sat sideways on the droshky, occupying all the droshky with himself. He wanted to say something to him, but the fat man had already disappeared. The droshki appeared again on that<месте>where they fished out. Voices were heard again: "Foma Big and Foma Lesser, Kozma and Denis!" When he drove up to the porch of the house, to the greatest amazement, his fat master was already on the porch and received him in his arms. How he managed to fly like that was incomprehensible. They kissed, according to the old Russian custom, three times sideways: the master was of an old cut.

I brought you a bow from His Excellency, - said Chichikov.

From what excellency?

From your relative, from General Alexander Dmitrievich.

Who is Alexander Dmitrievich?

General Betrishchev, - answered Chichikov with some amazement.

Stranger, - said with amazement x<озяин>. Chichikov was even more astonished.

How is that?.. I hope at least that I have the pleasure of talking with Colonel Ka-shkarev?

No, don't get your hopes up. You came not to him, but to me. Peter Petrovich Rooster! Rooster Petr Petrovich! - picked up the owner.

Chichikov was dumbfounded.

How? - he turned to Selifan and Petrushka, who also both opened their mouths and bulged their eyes, one sitting on the box, the other standing at the door of the carriage. - How are you, fools? After all, you were told: to Colonel Koshkarev ... But this is Pyotr Petrovich Petukh ...

The guys did great! Go to the kitchen: there they will give you a cup of vodka, said Pyotr Petrovich Petukh.

I'll confer: such an unexpected mistake ... - said Chichikov.

Not a mistake. You first try what dinner is like, and then you say: is it a mistake? I beg you, he said< Петух >, taking Chichikov by the arm and leading him into the inner chambers. Two youths in summer coats came out of the chambers to meet them - thin, like willow whips; a whole arshin drove them up [higher] than their father's height.

My sons, high school students, have come for the holidays ... Nikolasha, you stay with the guest; and you, Aleksasha, follow me. - Having said this, the owner disappeared.

Chichikov took up with Nikolasheya. Nikolasha, it seems, was a future trashy person. From the first time he told Chichikov that there was no advantage in studying at the provincial gymnasium, that he and his brother wanted to go to Petersburg, because<что>the province is not worth living in...

"I understand," Chichikov thought, "the business will end with confectionery shops and boulevards..."

And what, - he asked aloud, - in what condition is your father's estate?

Mortgaged, - said the priest himself, who again found himself in the living room, - mortgaged.

"That's bad," thought Chichikov. "So soon there won't be a single estate left;

In vain, however, - he said with an air of condolence, - they hastened to pawn.

No, nothing, - said the Rooster. - They say it's profitable. Everyone lays: how to lag behind others? Moreover, everyone lived here: let me try to live in Moscow again. Here the sons also persuade, they want the enlightenment of the capital.

“Fool, fool!” thought Chichikov, “he’ll squander everything, and even turn the children into moths. A decent estate. , kulebyaka, in the village".

But I know what you think, - said the Rooster.

What? Chichikov asked, embarrassed.

You think: "Fool, this Rooster is a fool: he called for dinner, but there is still no dinner." Will be ready, sir. The short-haired girl will not have time to braid her braids, as he will be in time.

Father! Platon Mikhalych is coming! - said Aleksasha. looking out the window.

Riding a bay horse! Nikola-sha picked up, bending over to the window.

Where where? - Rooster shouted, stepping up<к окну>.

Who is Plato<Михайлович>? Chichikov asked Aleksasha.

Our neighbor, Platon Mikhailovich Platonov, is a wonderful person, an excellent person, he himself said<Пе-тух>.

Meanwhile, Platonov himself entered the room, a handsome man, of slender growth, light blond: [brilliant curls and dark eyes]. With a brass collar rattling, a muzzled dog, a monster dog named Yarb, entered after him.

Did you have lunch?” the owner asked.

What are you, laughing, or something, you came over me? What do I have in you after dinner?

The guest smiled and said:

I will console you with the fact that I did not eat anything: there is no appetite at all.

And what was the catch, if you saw! What a sturgeon complained! What crucians, what carp!

Even annoying to hear from you. Why are you always so cheerful?

Why be bored? have mercy! -said the owner.

Why be bored? - because it's boring.

Eat little, that's all. Try to have a good meal. After all, boredom has been invented lately; no one was bored before.

Full brag! Like you've never been bored?

Never! Yes, and I do not know, even there is no time for boredom. You wake up in the morning - after all, there is a cook here now, you need to order dinner. Tea here, a clerk here, fishing there, and dinner here. After dinner, you will not have time to snore - again the cook, you need to order dinner. When to be bored?

Throughout the conversation, Chichikov was examining the guest, who amazed him with his extraordinary beauty, his slender, picturesque growth, the freshness of unspent youth, the virginal purity of a face not disgraced by a single pimple. Neither passion, nor sadness, nor even anything resembling excitement and anxiety dared to touch his virginal face and put a wrinkle on it, but at the same time they did not revive him. It remained somehow sleepy, despite the ironic grin that at times enlivened it.

I also, if you will allow me to notice, - he said, - I cannot understand how, with such an appearance, what is yours, to be bored. Of course, if there is a shortage of money or enemies, as there are sometimes those who are ready to encroach even on life itself ...

Believe me,” the handsome guest interrupted, “that for a change, I would sometimes wish to have some kind of anxiety: well, even if someone made me angry, even that is not. Boring, that's all.

So, the lack of land on the estate, a small number of souls?

Not at all. My brother and I have land worth ten thousand acres and with them more than a thousand peasants.

Strange, I don't understand. But maybe crop failures, diseases? many muzheska sex people died out?

On the contrary, everything is in the best order, and my brother is an excellent host.

And be bored at the same time! I don't understand," said Chichikov, and shrugged his shoulders.

But now we will drive away boredom, - said the owner, - Run, Aleksasha, quickly into the kitchen and tell the cook to send us pies as soon as possible. But where are the moron Yemelyan and the thief Antoshka? Why don't they give snacks?

But the door opened. Rotozei Emelyan and the thief Antoshka came with napkins, set the table, put down a tray with six decanters of multi-colored tinctures. Soon, around the trays and decanters, there was a necklace of plates with all sorts of inciting food. The servants turned briskly, incessantly bringing something in closed plates, through which one could hear the grumbling oil. Rotozey Emelyan and the thief Antoshka dealt with perfectly. These names were given to them only for encouragement. The master was not at all a fan of scolding, he was a good-natured man. But the Russian people already love the spicy word. [He] needs it like a glass of vodka for jam in the stomach. What to do? such a nature: he does not like anything insipid.

Lunch followed. Here the good-natured host became a perfect robber. He hardly noticed someone had one piece, put another one on him immediately, saying: "Without a pair, neither man nor bird can live in the world." Whoever has two, a third one came to him, saying: "What is the number two? God loves a trinity." The guest ate three - he told him: "Where is a cart with three wheels? Who builds a hut with three corners?" At four, he also had a saying, at five, again. Chichikov ate almost twelve slices of something and thought:

"Well, now the owner won't clean up anything else." It was not there: without saying a word, he put on his plate the back part of a calf roasted on a spit, with kidneys, and what a calf!

He raised me on milk for two years, the owner said, he looked after him like a son!

I can’t,” said Chichikov.

You try and then say; I can not!

Will not rise, there is no place.

Why, there was no place in the church either, the mayor went up, and there was. And there was such a crush that even an apple had nowhere to fall. You just try: that piece is the same mayor.

I tried Chichikov - indeed, a piece was like a mayor. There was a place for him, but it seemed that nothing could be placed.

"Well, how can such a person go to St. Petersburg or Moscow? With such hospitality, he will live in fluff there for three years!" That is, he did not know that now it has been improved: and without hospitality, to lower everything not in three years, but in three months.

He poured and poured every now and then; why didn’t the guests finish drinking, he let Aleksasha and Nikolasha finish drinking, who just slammed glass after glass; forward is visible<было, на>what part of human knowledge will be turned -<они>Attention upon arrival in the capital, It was not the same with the guests: by force, by force they were dragged to the balcony and by force they fit in armchairs. The owner, as soon as he sat down in his own, some kind of four-seater, immediately fell asleep. His fat property, having turned into a blacksmith's fur, began to make such sounds through his open mouth and nasal vents that a new writer rarely comes to mind: both a drum and a flute, and some kind of abrupt rumble, the precise barking of a dog.

Eck whistles him! Platonov said. Chichikov laughed.

Of course, if you dine like that, how can boredom come here! Here comes the dream. Is not it?

Yes. But I, however, - you'll excuse me - I can not understand how you can be bored. There are so many remedies for boredom.

What?

Is it enough for a young man? Dancing, playing an instrument... or not getting married.

Yes, if there are no good and rich brides in the circle?

Well, look in other places, travel. - And a rich thought suddenly flashed in Chichikov's head. - Yes, that's a great tool! he said, looking into Platonov's eyes.

Journey.

Where to go?

Yes, if you are free, then let's go with me, - said Chichikov and thought to himself, looking at Platonov:

"And that would be good. Then the costs could be halved, and the subordination of the stroller could be attributed to him at all."

Where are you going?

In the meantime, I am going not so much for my own need, but for the need of another. General Betrishchev, a close friend and, one might say, a philanthropist, asked to visit relatives ... Of course, relatives are relatives, but partly, so to speak, for himself:

for to see the world, the rotation of people - whatever you say, is like a living book, a second science. - And, having said this, Chichikov meanwhile thought like this: "Really, it would be good. and go on his horses, and mine would feed on him in the village.

“Why not take a ride?” thought Platonov meanwhile.

Do you agree, he said aloud, to stay with your brother for two days? Otherwise he won't let me go.

With great pleasure. At least three.

Well, that's it! Let's go! - said, perking up, Platonov.

They clapped hands: "Let's go!"

Where where? - cried the owner, waking up and bulging his eyes at them. - No, sir! and the wheels of the ko-lyaskna were ordered to be removed, and your stallion, Platon Mikhaylych, was driven fifteen miles away from here. No, here you spend the night today, and tomorrow after an early dinner and go yourself.

What was to be done with the Rooster? Should have stayed. But they were rewarded with an amazing spring evening. The owner arranged a party on the river. Twelve rowers, twenty-four oars, carried them along the smooth ridge of the mirror lake with songs. From the lake they rushed into the river, boundless, with gentle banks on both sides, constantly approaching under the ropes stretched across the river for fishing. If only a trickle of water stirred; only silently appeared before them, one after another, and grove after grove delighted their eyes with the varied arrangement of trees. The rowers, grabbing twenty-four oars at once, suddenly lifted all the oars up, and the boat of its own accord, like a light bird, rushed over the motionless mirror surface. The lad sang, a broad-shouldered fellow, third from the helm, began in a clear, sonorous voice, bringing the opening choruses of the song as if from a nightingale's throat, five picked up, six carried, and it overflowed, boundless, like Rus'. And Rooster, startled, snarled, giving in where the choir lacked strength, and Chichikov himself felt that he was Russian. Only Platonov thought: "What is good in this mournful song? It brings even greater melancholy to the soul."

We returned back at dusk. In the dark, the oars struck the waters, which no longer reflected the sky. In the darkness they landed on the shore, along which the lights were laid out; on tripods, fishermen cooked fish soup from burning ruffs. Everything was already at home. The village cattle and poultry had long been driven in, and the dust from them had already subsided, and the shepherds who had driven them in were standing at the gates, waiting for a glass of milk and an invitation to their ears. In the twilight one could hear the quiet hubbub of people, the chattering of dogs, resounding somewhere from foreign villages. The moon rose, and the darkened surroundings began to light up, and everything was lit up. Wonderful pictures! But there was no one to admire them. Nikolasha and Aleksasha, instead of rushing ahead of them at that time on two dashing stallions, overtaking each other, thought about Moscow, about confectionery, about theaters, about which a cadet visiting from the capital had told them. Their father was thinking about how to feed his guests. Platonov yawned. Chichikov turned out to be the liveliest of all. "Oh, right! I'll start a village someday!" And the wench and Chichonki began to introduce themselves to him.

And at dinner they ate again. When Pavel Ivanovich entered the allotted sleeping room and, lying down in bed, felt his tummy: "Drum!" He said, "no mayor will come up!" need to<же быть>such a combination of circumstances that behind the wall was the owner's office. The wall was thin, and everything that was said there could be heard. The owner ordered the cook, under the guise of an early breakfast for the next day, a decisive dinner. And as ordered! The dead would have an appetite.

Yes, the kulebyaku is made into four corners, ”he said with a suction and taking the breath away. “In one corner, put sturgeon cheeks and vyazigi for me, in the other buckwheat gruel, and mushrooms with onions, and sweet milk, and brains, and what else you know, there’s something like that, some kind of that ... Yes, so that it would be browned on one side, you understand, let it be easier on the other. Yes, under the skin, bake it so that it sucks all over, it would get through so that it is all, you know, so thick - not just crumbling, but melting in your mouth like some kind of snow, so that you don’t hear it. - Saying this. The rooster sipped and slapped his lips.

"Damn it! He won't let me sleep," Chichikov thought, and wrapped his head in a blanket so as not to hear anything. But even through the blanket you could hear:

And in the lining to the sturgeon, let the beets with an asterisk, and smelt, and mushrooms, and there, you know, re-cannons and carrots, and beans, there is something like that, you know, that tall, to garnish, garnish any more. Yes, put some ice in the pork abomasum so that it swells well.

Many more Rooster ordered dishes. All that was heard was: "Yes, fry, yes, bake, but let me get up well!" Chichikov fell asleep already on some turkey.

The next day the guests were so full that Platonov could no longer ride. The stallion was sent with the groom Rooster. They got into the carriage. The snout-faced dog lazily followed the stroller: he had also eaten too much.

This is too much, - said Chichikov, when they drove out of the yard.

And not bored, that's annoying! Platonov said. “If I had, like you, seventy thousand a year income,” thought Chichikov, “Yes, I would be bored and in my eyes<не допустил?". Вот откупщик Муразов,- легко сказать,-десять миллионов... Экой куш!"

What, you have nothing to call? I would like to say goodbye to my sister and son-in-law.

With great pleasure, - said Chichikov.

If you are a hunter for the economy, Platonov said, then it will be interesting for you to get to know him. You won't find a better owner. At the age of ten he raised his estate to<того>that instead of thirty now receives two hundred thousand.

Oh, yes, this is, of course, a respected person! It will be interesting to meet such a person. How? Why, to say this ... And what about the last name?

Costanjoglo.

And the name and patronymic, may I ask?

Konstantin Fedorovich.

Konstantin Fedorovich Kostanzhoglo. It will be very interesting to meet you. It is instructive to know such a person.

Platonov took over the leadership of Selifan, which was necessary, because he could hardly keep himself on the goats. Petrushka fell off the carriage twice, so that it was finally necessary to tie him to the goats with a rope. "What a beast!" only Chichikov repeated.

Here, look, his lands begin, - said Platonov, - a completely different look.

And in fact, through the whole field there is a seeded forest - trees as straight as arrows; behind them is another, taller, also young man; behind them is an old desnyak, and all one is higher than the other. Then again a strip of field covered with dense forest, and again in the same way a young forest, and again an old one. And three times they passed, as if through the gates of the walls, through the forests.

It all grew up with him some years at eight, ten, that of another and at twenty<не вырастет >.

How did he do it?

Ask him. This is such a geologist, he has nothing for nothing. Little does he know the soil, just as he knows what kind of neighborhood is needed for someone. Near which bread which trees. Each of them sends three or four posts at once. He has a forest, besides that for a forest, in order to add so much moisture to the fields in such and such a place, to manure so much with a falling leaf, to give so much shade. When there is drought around, he has no drought; when there is a crop failure around, he does not have a crop failure. It’s a pity that I don’t know these things myself, I don’t know how to tell, but he has such things ... They call him a sorcerer.

"Indeed, this is an amazing husband," thought Chichikov. "It is very regrettable that the young man is superficial and does not know how to tell."

At last the village appeared. As if it were some kind of city, it spilled out with many huts on three elevations, crowned with three churches, blocked everywhere with gigantic stacks and luggage. "Yes," thought Chichikov, "you can see that the ace master is alive." The huts are all strong, the streets are torn; whether there was a cart-cart was strong and brand new; a peasant came across with some kind of intelligent expression on his face; cattle for selection; even the peasant pig looked like a nobleman. So it is clear that it is here that those men live who row, as the song says, silver with a shovel. There were no English parks and lawns with all sorts of inventions, but, in the old fashion, there was an avenue of barns and workers' houses right up to the house, so that everything could be seen by the master, no matter what was happening around him; and to top it off, on top of the house, a lantern surveyed for fifteen versts around the whole detour. At the porch they were met by servants, efficient, not at all like the drunkard Petrushka, although they did not have tailcoats, but Cossack chekmeni of blue homemade cloth.

The mistress of the house ran out onto the porch herself. She was fresh as blood and milk; good as God's day;

she was like two drops like Platonov, with the only difference being that she was not lethargic like him. but talkative and cheerful.

Greetings, brother! Well, I'm glad you came. And Konstantin is not at home; but he will be soon.

Where is he?

He has business in the village with some buyers, she said, leading the guests into the room.

Chichikov examined with curiosity the dwelling of this extraordinary man, who received two hundred thousand, thinking from it to find the properties of the owner himself, as from the remaining shell they conclude about an oyster or a snail that once sat in it and left its imprint. But no conclusion could be drawn. The rooms are all simple, even empty: no frescoes, no paintings, no bronzes, no flowers, no china shelves, not even books. In a word, everything showed that the main life of the creature that lived here did not pass at all within the four walls of the room, but in the field, and the very thoughts were not thought out in advance in a sybarite way, by the fire in front of the fireplace, in quiet armchairs, but in the same place, on the site of the case. , came to mind, and in the same place where they came, there they were put into action. In the rooms Chichikov could only notice traces of women's housekeeping: clean lime boards were placed on the tables and chairs and on them the petals of some flowers, prepared for drying.

What is it with you, sister, for such rubbish instructed? Platonov said.

How rubbish! - said the hostess. - This is the best remedy for fever. We cured them in the past<год>all men. And this is for tinctures; this is for the jam. You keep laughing at jams and pickles, and then, when you eat, you yourself praise them.

Platonov went up to the piano and began to sort out the notes.

God! what an old man!” he said. “Aren't you ashamed, sister?

Well, excuse me, brother, I have no time to study music. I have an eight-year-old daughter whom I have to teach. To hand her over to a foreign governess, then only to have free time for music herself - no, excuse me, brother, I won’t do that,

What a bore you really have become, sister! -said the brother and went to the window. -Ah! here he is! goes! is coming!” said Platonov.

Chichikov also rushed to the window. Approaching the porch about forty people, lively, swarthy appearance, in a camel's frock coat<сукна?>. He did not think about his outfit. He was wearing a trippy cap*. On both sides of it, taking off their hats, walked two people of the lower class, walked, talking about something with -<ним>interpreting. One is a simple peasant, the other is some kind of visiting kulak and rogue, in a blue Siberian coat. Since they all stopped near the porch, their conversation could be heard in the rooms.

* trippy cap. - Trip - woolen fleecy fabric.

Here's what you better do: you buy off your master. I'll probably give you a loan: you'll work for me after.

No, Konstantin Fyodorovich, why pay off? Take us. You will learn every mind from you. Such an intelligent person is nowhere in the whole world to be savvy. But now the trouble is that you can’t save yourself in any way. The kissers have now brought such tinctures that from one glass they will start to fight so much that they would drink a bucket of water. You will not have time to come to your senses, as you will lower everything. Lots of temptation. The crafty one, or something, turns the world around, by God! Everything is turned on to confuse the peasants: both tobacco and all sorts of such. . What to do, Konstantin Fyodorovich? Man, don't hold back.

Listen, here's the thing. After all, I still have trouble. It is true that the first time you get everything - both a cow and a horse; but the fact is that I demand so much from the peasants as nowhere else. Work for me - the first; whether it’s for me or for myself, but I won’t let anyone stale. I myself work like an ox, and I have peasants; because he experienced, brother; all the rubbish climbs into your head because you don’t work. So you think about it all in peace and talk between<собою>.

Yes, we talked about it, Konstantin Fyodorovich. That's what the old people say. What can I say, after all, every peasant among you is rich: it’s not without reason; and the priests are compassionate. But they took those from us, and there is no one to bury.

Anyway, go ahead and talk.

I'm listening, sir.

So, Konstantin Fyodorovich, do yourself a favour... ease it up, - said a visiting fist in a blue Siberian coat walking on the other side.

I already said: I'm not a hunter to bargain. I'm not like the other Landowner, to whom you will drive up just before the due date of payment to the pawnshop. After all, I know you all: you have lists of everyone who should pay when. What's smart here? He will be impatient, well, he will give it to you at half price. What about your money to me? I have a thing for at least three years: I don’t need to pay to the pawnshop.

The real thing, Konstantin Fyodorovich. Why, I’m doing this, sir, only to continue to have contact with you, and not for the sake of any self-interest. If you please, accept a deposit of three thousand. - The fist took out a bunch of greasy banknotes from his bosom. Costanjoglo took them coolly and, without counting them, slipped them into the back pocket of his coat.

“Hm!” thought Chichikov, “just like a handkerchief.

Costanjoglo appeared at the drawing-room door. He struck Chichikov even more with the swarthyness of his face, the stiffness of his black hair, graying in places for a time, the lively expression of his eyes, and some bilious imprint of an ardent southern origin. He was not entirely Russian. He himself did not know where his ancestors came from. He did not study his genealogy, finding that it did not fit into the line and that the thing was superfluous in the household. He was even quite sure that he was Russian, and he did not know any other language than Russian.

Platonov introduced Chichikov. They kissed.

So I decided to travel to different provinces, - said Platonov, - to open the blues. And so Pavel Ivanovich offered to go with him.

Excellent,” said Costanjoglo.

I confess, - said Chichikov, affably tilting his head to one side and at the same time stroking the chair handle with his hand, - for the time being I am going not so much for my own need, but for the need of another: General Betrishchev, a close friend and, one might say, a philanthropist, asked to visit relatives . Relatives, of course, relatives, but on the other hand, so to speak, also for oneself, because, not to mention the benefits that can be in a hemorrhoidal relationship, to see the light, the gyration of people ... there is, so to speak, alive book, the same science.

Yes, it does not hurt to look into other corners.

They deigned to remark admirably: indeed, verily, it really does not interfere. You see things you wouldn't see; You meet people you wouldn't have met. A conversation with another is the same chervonets, as, for example, now an opportunity has presented itself ... I resort to you, most venerable Konstantin Fedorovich, teach, teach, irrigate my thirst with the enlightenment of truth. I'm waiting, like manna, for your sweet words.

What, however? .. what to teach? - said Costanjoglo, embarrassed. - I myself studied with copper money.

Wisdom, venerable one, wisdom! Wisdom to manage the difficult feed of agriculture, wisdom to extract reliable income, to acquire property not dreamy, but substantial, thereby fulfilling the duty of a citizen, earning the respect of compatriots.

Do you know what, - said Costanjoglo, looking at him in thought, - stay a day with me. I will show you all the controls and tell you about everything. There is no wisdom here, as you will see.

Of course, stay, - said the hostess and, turning to her brother, she added: - Brother, stay, where are you in a hurry?

I don't care. How is Pavel Ivanovich?

Me too, with great pleasure... But here's the circumstance: a relative of General Betrishchev, a certain Colonel Koshkarev...

Yes, he is crazy.

It's like that, crazy. I would not have gone to see him, but General Betrishchev, a close friend and, so to speak, a philanthropist...

In that case, you know what?<Костанжогло>- go, there are not even ten miles to him. I have ready spans. Go to him now. You will be back in time for tea.

Excellent thought! cried Chichikov, taking up his hat.

Cabs were handed to him and in half an hour they rushed him to the colonel. The whole village was scattered: buildings, rebuildings, heaps of lime, bricks and logs will blow the streets. Some kind of houses were built, like offices. On one was written in gold letters: "Depot of agricultural implements"; on another:

He found the colonel behind the pulpit of a standing desk, with a quill in his teeth. The colonel received Chichikov with excellent affection. In appearance, he was the most kind, amiable person: he began to tell him about how much work it cost him to raise the estate to its current prosperity; with condolences he complained how difficult it is to make the peasant understand that there are higher motives that enlightened luxury, art and art gives a person; what a woman he is still<пор>he could not force him to wear a corset, while in Germany, where he stood with the regiment in the fourteenth year, the miller's daughter even knew how to play the piano; that, however, despite all the stubbornness of ignorance, he will certainly achieve that the peasant of his village, walking behind a plow, will at the same time read a book on Franklin's lightning rods, or Virgil's "Georgics", or "Chemical study of soils ".

"Yes, no matter how it is," Chichikov thought.

The colonel talked a lot more about how to bring people to well-being. His costume was of great importance. He swore with his head that if only half of the Russian peasants were dressed in German trousers, the sciences would rise, trade would rise and a golden age would come in Russia.

Looking at him intently, Chichikov thought:

“There seems to be nothing to be done about this,” and he immediately announced that there was a need for some kind of souls, with the performance of such and such fortresses and all the rites.

As much as I can see from your words,” said the colonel, not in the least embarrassed, “this is a request, isn’t it?

Yes sir.

In this case, state it in writing. The request will go to the office for receiving reports and reports. [The office], having marked it, will forward it to me; from me it will go to the committee of rural affairs; from there, after making corrections, to the manager. The manager together with the secretary...

Have mercy! cried Chichikov, "God knows, it'll drag on like that!" But how to interpret this in writing? After all, this is such a thing ... Souls are somehow dead.

Very good. You just write that the souls are somehow dead.

But what about the dead? After all, you can't write like that. Although they are dead, they need to appear as if they were alive.

Fine. You write like this: "but it is necessary, or required, desired, sought, so that it seems, as it were, False." This cannot be done without paper production. An example is England and even Napoleon himself. I will send you a commission agent who will take you to all places.

He hit the bell. Some man appeared.

Secretary! Call me a commissioner! - A commission agent appeared, some kind of man, or an official. -Here he is escorting you<по>the most important places.

Out of curiosity, Chichikov decided to go with the commission agent to see all these most necessary places. The reporting office existed only on a sign, and the doors were locked. The ruler of its affairs, Khrulev, was transferred to the newly formed committee of rural buildings. His place was taken by the valet Berezovsky; but he, too, was seconded somewhere by the construction commission. They bumped into the Department of Rural Affairs—there was a change: they woke up some drunkard, but they didn’t get any sense from him. "We have a stupidity," the commission agent finally said to Chichikov. He, apparently, was dissatisfied with the construction commission. Further, Chichikov did not even want to look, but, having come, he told the colonel that it was so and so, that he had porridge and it was impossible to achieve any good, and there was no commission for submitting reports at all.

The colonel fumed with noble indignation, shaking Chichikov's hand warmly in token of gratitude. Immediately, grabbing paper and pen, he wrote eight strict requests: on what basis did the construction commission arbitrarily dispose of officials not under its jurisdiction; how could the chief administrator allow the representative, without giving up his post, to go to the investigation; and how could the committee of rural affairs see with indifference that there was not even an office for submitting reports and reports?

"Well, a mess!" thought Chichikov, and he was about to leave.

No, I won't let you go. Now my own ambition is affected. I will prove what an organic, correct organization of the economy means. I will entrust your case to such a person who alone is worth everything: he graduated from a university course. That's what my serfs are like ... In order not to waste precious time, in the most rooted way< прошу >sit with me] in the library,” said the colonel, opening the side door. “There are books, paper, pens, pencils, everything. Use, use everything: you are the master. Enlightenment should be open to all.

This is what Koshkarev said as he led him into the book depository. It was a huge hall filled from top to bottom with books. There were even stuffed animals. Books on all parts: on the part of forestry, cattle breeding, pig breeding, gardening; special magazines for all parts, which are only sent out with the obligation of subscriptions, but no one<их>does not read. Seeing that all these were books not for a pleasant pastime -<времени:>, he turned to another cupboard - from the fire to the frying pan: all the books of philosophy. Six huge volumes appeared before his eyes, under the title: "Preparatory entry into the field of thinking. The theory of generality, totality, essence, and in application to the understanding of the organic principles of the mutual bifurcation of social productivity." Whatever Chichikov unfolded the book, on every page: manifestation,. development, abstract. isolation and closeness, and the devil knows what was not there. "That's not for me," said Chichikov, and turned to the third bookcase, where there were books on the arts. Then he pulled out some huge book with immodest mythological pictures and began to look at them.<лет>, and sometimes to those old men who provoke themselves with ballets and other spices. Having finished examining this book, Chichikov was already pulling out another of the same kind, when Colonel Koshkarev appeared, with a beaming look and paper.

Everything is done, and done perfectly! The man I told you about is a determined genius. For this I will put<>above all, and for him alone I will run a whole department. You look what a bright head and how in a few minutes he decided everything.

"Well, thank the Lord!" thought Chichikov and prepared to listen. The Colonel began to read:

- "Starting to consider the assignment entrusted to me by your nobility, I have the honor to convey to this:

1st. The very request of Mr. Collegiate Counselor and Chevalier Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov already contains a misunderstanding, for the revisionist souls are imprudently called dead. By this, they probably deigned to understand those close to death, and not the dead. And even such a name already shows a more empirical study of the sciences, probably limited to a parish school, for the soul is immortal.

A rogue!” Koshkarev said with self-satisfaction, stopping short. “Here he jabbed you a little. But confess, what a brisk pen!

- "In the 2nd, there are no unmortgaged, not only close to death, but also any others, by name, because all in the aggregate are not only mortgaged without withdrawal, but also re-mortgaged, with an increase of one and a half hundred rubles per capita, except for a small the village of Gurmailovka, which is in a controversial position on the occasion of a lawsuit with the landowner Predishchev and, as a result, under a ban, as announced in the forty-second issue of Moskovskie Vedomosti.

Why didn't you tell me this before? Why did they keep them out of trifles? - Chichikov said with a heart.

Yes! yes, it was necessary<вы>all this was seen through the form of paper production. That's not a thing. Even a fool can see unconsciously, but it must be done consciously.

In his heart, seizing his hat, Chichikov ran out of the house, past all decorum, and out the door: he was angry. The coachman stood ready with the cabs, knowing that there was nothing to put aside for the horses, because a written request would be made for feed, and a resolution to give oats to the horses would come out only the next day. [No matter how rude and impolite Chichikov was, Koshkarev, in spite of everything, was unusually] courteous and delicate with him. He forcibly shook his hand, pressed it to his heart, and thanked him for giving him the opportunity to see the progress of the proceedings; that trouble and a race must be given, because everything is capable of dozing off and the control springs will rust and weaken; that as a result of this event, a happy thought came to him - to organize a new commission, which will be called a commission for monitoring the construction commission, so that even then no one will dare to steal.

Chichikov arrived, angry and dissatisfied, late, when the candles had long been burning.

Why are you so late?” said Kostanjog-lo, when he appeared at the door.

What did you talk about with him for so long?” Platonov said.

I have never seen such a fool in my life, - said<Чичиков>-.

That's nothing, - said Kostanzhoglo. - Koshkarev is a comforting phenomenon. It is needed because it reflects in a caricature and more visible the stupidity of all our wise men - these are all the wise men who, not having recognized their own before, are gaining foolishness in strangers. Look what the landlords have now come: they have opened offices, and manufactories, and schools, and a commission, and the devil knows what they have not got! That's what these smart people are! It used to get better after the Frenchman of the twelfth year, so now let's upset everything again. After all, they upset the Frenchman worse, so now some Petr Petrovich Petukh is still a good landowner.

Why, he's pawned it at the pawnshop now, too," said Chichikov.

Well, yes, everything will go to the pawnshop, everything will go to the pawnshop.” Having said this, Costanjoglo began to get a little angry. The landowner - such a respectable title - to the manufactory, manufacturers! Spinning machines ... kisei for city whores, girls.

Why, you also have factories, Platonov remarked.

And who started them? Wound themselves up! wool had accumulated, there was nowhere to sell it - I began to weave cloth, and thick, simple cloth - at a cheap price they are immediately dismantled in the markets - necessary for a peasant, my peasant. Fish husks were dumped on my shore for six years in a row by industrialists, well, what to do with it? I started to cook glue out of it, and took forty thousand. After all, I have everything.

"What the hell!" thought Chichikov, looking at him with both eyes, "what a raking paw."

And even then he did it because many workers came across who would die of hunger. A hungry year, and all at the mercy of these manufacturers who have missed the crops. I have a lot of such factories, brother. Every year a different factory, depending on what accumulated leftovers and discards. Just take a closer look at your household - any rubbish will give an income, so you push it away, you say: it’s not necessary. After all, I do not build palaces with columns and pediments for this.

This is amazing... The most amazing thing of all is that any rubbish will give an income! Chichikov said.

Have mercy! If only we would take the matter simply as it is; otherwise, after all, every mechanic, everyone wants to open a chest with a tool, and not just. He will go to England on purpose for this, that's the point. Fool! Having said this, Costanjoglo spat.

Ah, Konstantin! you got angry again, - said the wife with concern. - After all, you know that this is bad for you.

Why not get angry? It would be nice, it was someone else's, otherwise it is close to one's own heart. After all, it is a shame that the Russian character is deteriorating. After all, a Don Quixotism has now appeared in the Russian character, which never existed! Enlightenment will come into his mind - it will become the Don Quixote of enlightenment: he will lead such schools that a fool will not enter the mind! A person will leave the school who is no good for anything, either in the village or in the city - just let the drunkard feel his dignity. Humanity will go into philanthropy - it will become a Don Quixote of philanthropy: it will set up stupid hospitals and institutions with columns for a million rubles, it will go bankrupt, and let everyone go around the world: here you have philanthropy!

Chichikov was not up to enlightenment. He wanted to ask in detail about how all sorts of rubbish makes a profit: but he did not give him Costanjoglo to interject words. Bile speeches were already pouring out of his mouth, so that he could no longer hold them back.

They think how to enlighten a man! Yes, you first make him rich and a good owner, and there he will learn himself. After all, how now, at this time, the whole world has become stupid, so you cannot imagine. What do these clickers write now! Some milk-drinker will let in a book, and so everyone will rush at her. This is what they began to say: "The peasant is already leading a very simple life; you need to acquaint him with luxury items, instill in him needs above the state ..." That thanks to this luxury they themselves became rags, not people, and the devil knows what diseases they got, and already there is not an eighteen-year-old boy who has not tried everything: he has no teeth, and is bald like a bubble - now they want to infect these too. Yes, thank God that we still have at least one healthy class left that has not become acquainted with these whims! For that we just have to thank God. Yes, the farmers are more respectable to me than all - why are you touching him? God forbid that all were cultivators.

So you think that it is profitable to engage in arable farming? Chichikov asked.

More legal, not more profitable. Till the land in the sweat of your face, it is said. There is nothing to be smart about. It has already been proven by the experience of centuries that in the agricultural rank a person is more moral, purer, nobler, higher. I’m not saying not to engage in other things, but to lay the foundation for arable farming, that’s what! Factories will start up of their own accord, yes, legitimate factories will start up—what is needed here, at a person’s fingertips, on the spot, and not these all sorts of needs that have weakened the people of today. Not these factories, which then, for support and for sale, use all vile measures, corrupt, corrupt the unfortunate people. Yes, I won’t start at home, no matter how you say it in their favor, any of these industries that inspire higher needs, neither tobacco nor sugar, even if I lose a million. Let, then, if debauchery enters the world, so not through my hands! Let me be right before God... I have been living with the people for twenty years; I know what are the consequences of this.

For me, the most amazing thing is, as with prudent management, from the remains, from the scraps it turns out,<что>and any rubbish gives income.

Hm! Save political money! - said Kostan-joglo, not listening to him, with an expression of bilious sarcasm on his face. - Good political economy! The fool sits on the fool and drives the fool. He can't see beyond his stupid nose. Donkey, and even climb on the pulpit, put on glasses ... Fool! - And in anger, he spat.

All this is true and everything is just, but please don't get angry," said the wife, "as if you can't talk about it without losing your temper.

Listening to you, most respected Konstantin Fyodorovich, you delve, so to speak, into the meaning of life, you feel the very core of the matter. But, leaving the universal, let me pay attention to the private. If, let's say, having become a landowner, I had an idea in a short<время>to get rich in such a way as to, so to speak, fulfill the essential duty of a citizen, then how, what to do?

What to do to get rich? - picked up Costanjoglo. - And here's how ...

Let's go to dinner, - said the hostess; she, having risen from the sofa, stepped into the middle of the room, wrapping her young, shuddering limbs in a shawl.

Chichikov grabbed himself from his chair with the dexterity of an almost military man, held out his hand to her with a yoke, and led her through the front two rooms into the dining-room, where there was already a soup bowl on the table and, stripped of its lid, was pouring out the pleasant fragrance of soup saturated with fresh herbs and the first roots of spring. Everyone sat down at the table. The servants promptly put all the dishes in closed gravy-boats and everything that was needed on the table at once, and immediately left. Costanjoglo did not like lackeys to listen to the< разговоры >, and even more so that they looked into his mouth at a time when he<ест>.

After taking a sip of soup and drinking a glass of some excellent drink, similar to Hungarian, Chichikov said to the owner as follows:

Allow me, most respected, to turn you back to the subject of the conversation that was stopped. I asked you about how to be, how to act, how best to take ... *

An estate for which, if he had asked for forty thousand, I would have immediately counted it out to him.

Hm! Chichikov fell into thought. “But why don’t you yourself,” he said with some timidity, “do not buy it?”

Yes, you need to know, finally, the limits. I already have a lot of trouble around my estates. Moreover, our nobles are already shouting at me, as if I, taking advantage of the extremes and their ruined positions, are buying up land for a pittance. I'm finally tired of this, damn them.

How are people capable of slander! Chichikov said.

And as in our province - you can not imagine! They don't call me anything other than a miser and a miser of the first degree. They excuse themselves for everything. “I, he says, of course, squandered, but because I lived by the highest needs of life, I encouraged industrialists, swindlers, that is, and that way, perhaps, you can live like a pig, like Costanjoglo.”

I wish I were such a pig!” said Chichikov.

And it's all lies and nonsense. What are the higher needs? Who are they fooling? Although he will get books, he does not read them. The case will end with cards and drunkenness. And all because I don’t set dinners and don’t borrow money from them. I don't give meals because it would weigh me down; I'm not used to it. And come to me, eat what I eat, you are welcome. I don't lend money, that's nonsense. Come to me really needy and tell me in detail how you will dispose of my money. If I see from your words that you will use them wisely and the money will bring you a clear profit, I will not refuse you and will not even take interest.

"This, however, must be taken into account," thought Chichikov.

And I will never refuse, - continued Costanjoglo. - But I will not throw money down the drain. Please forgive me for this! Damn it! he arranges some kind of dinner for his mistress there, or he cleans the house with furniture in a crazy way, or with a whore in a masquerade, some anniversaries there in memory of the fact that he lived in vain, and lend him money! ..

Here Costanjoglo spat and almost uttered a few indecent and abusive words in the presence of his wife. A stern shadow of dark hypochondria darkened his face. Wrinkles gathered along and across his forehead, revealing the angry movement of agitated bile.

Allow me, my honored one, to turn you back to the subject of the conversation that was stopped, - said Chichikov, drinking another glass of robin, which was really excellent. - If, suppose, I acquired the very estate that you deigned to mention, then what time and how soon you can get rich to such an extent ...

If you want, - put in severely and abruptly Costanjoglo, full of dislike of the spirit, - to get rich soon, then you will never get rich;

if you want to get rich without asking about time, you will get rich soon.

That's how it is, - said Chichikov.

Yes,” said Costanjoglo abruptly, as if he were angry with Chichikov himself, “one must have a love for work. Nothing can be done without this. You have to love the economy, yes! And trust me, it's not boring at all. They invented that there was melancholy in the village - yes, I would die, hang myself from melancholy, if only for one day. spent in the city as they spend in their stupid clubs, taverns and theaters. Fools foolish, donkey generation! The owner can not, there is no time to be bored. In his life there is no emptiness even for half an inch - everything is fullness. This alone is the variety of occupations, and what occupations!—occupations that truly elevate the spirit. Be that as it may, but here a person walks alongside nature, with the seasons, an accomplice and interlocutor of everything that happens in creation. Consider the circular year of work: how even before spring comes, everything is already on the alert waiting for it; preparation of seeds, sorting, re-measuring in grain barns and drying; establishment of new taxes. Whole<год>is looked ahead and everything is calculated first. And as soon as the ice breaks, let the rivers pass, let everything dry out and the earth will explode - a spade works in vegetable gardens and orchards, in the fields of plows and harrows: a garden, sowing and crops. Do you understand what it is? Trifle! the coming harvest is sown! They sow the blessing of the whole earth! They sow food for millions! Summer has come... And then mowing, mowing... And suddenly the harvest began to boil; for rye the weather is rye, and there wheat, and there barley and oats. Everything boils; you can not miss the minutes; at least have twenty eyes, they all have work. And when everything is celebrated, let it go to be taken to the threshing floors, put into luggage, and winter smells, and mending for the winter of barns, rigs, stockyards, and at the same time all the women's< работы >, yes, you will sum up everything and see what has been done - but this is ... And winter! Threshing in all threshing floors, transportation of ground bread from the rig and barns. You go to the mill, you go to the factories, you go to look at the workers' yard, you go to the peasant, how he sways on himself there. Yes, for me, it’s simple, if a carpenter is good with an ax, I’m ready to stand in front of him for two hours: work makes me so happy. And if you also see that all this is being done for what purpose, how everything around you multiplies and multiplies, bringing fruit and income, - but I can’t even tell what is happening in you then. And not because money is growing - money is money - but because all this is the work of your hands; because you see how you are the cause of everything, you are the creator of everything, and from you, as from some kind of magician, abundance and goodness pours into everything. But where will you find equal pleasure for me?” said Costanjoglo, and his face lifted up, the wrinkles disappeared. Like a king on the day of his solemn wedding, he shone all over, and it seemed as if rays emanated from his face. - Yes, in the whole world you will not find such a pleasure! Here, it is here that man imitates God. God has given himself the work of creation, as the highest of all pleasures, and requires from man also that he be a similar creator of prosperity around him. And they call it boring!

Like the singing of a bird of paradise, Chichikov listened to the master's mellifluous speeches. Swallowed the saliva of his mouth. His very eyes were oiled and expressed sweetness, and he would have listened to everything.

Konstantin! it's time to get up, - said the hostess, rising from her chair.

Everyone got up. Substituting his hand with a yoke, Chichikov led the hostess back. But there was already a lack of dexterity in his turns, because his thoughts were occupied with really significant turns.

Whatever you say, that's all. however, it’s boring, ”Platonov said, walking behind them.

"The guest is not a stupid person," the host thought, "he is dignified in words and not a clicker." And, having thought so, he became even more cheerful, as if warming himself from his conversation and, as if celebrating that he had found a man who knew how to listen to clever advice.

When later they all fit in a cozy little room, lit by candles, opposite the balcony glass door to the garden, and the stars shining from above the tops of the sleeping garden were looking at them from the outside, Chichikov felt as comfortable as she had not been for a long time: just as if after long wanderings she received already his native roof and, having completed everything, he had already received everything he wanted and threw the wandering staff, saying: "Enough!" Such a charming disposition was brought to his soul by the reasonable conversation of a hospitable host. For every person there are such speeches that are, as it were, closer and more related to him than other speeches. And often unexpectedly, in a remote, forgotten backwoods, in a deserted desert, you will meet a person whose warming conversation will make you forget you and the roadlessness of the road, and the inconvenience of lodging for the night, and the debauchery of modern noise, and the falsity of deceptions that deceive a person. And the evening spent in this way will crash vividly, once for all and forever, and a faithful memory will keep everything: who was co-present, and who sat in what place, and what was in his hands - walls, corners and every trinket.

So Chichikov noticed everything that evening: this sweet, unpretentiously furnished room, and the good-natured expression that reigned in the face of a smart owner, but even the drawing of the room’s wallpaper, and the pipe given to Platonov with an amber mouthpiece, and the smoke that he began to blow into Yarb's fat muzzle, and Yarb's snorting, and the laughter of the pretty hostess, interrupted by the words: "Come on, don't torture him," and the merry candles, and the cricket in the corner, and the glass door, and the spring night, looking at them from there, leaning on the peaks trees, showered with stars, announced by the nightingales, loudly whistling from the depths of the green-leaved thickets.

Your speeches are sweet to me, Konstantin Fedorovich, venerable by me, - said Chichikov. - I can say that I have not met in all of Russia a person like you in mind.

Costanjoglo smiled. He himself felt that these words were not unfair,

No, if you want to know an intelligent person, then we really do have one about whom, for sure, one can say - an intelligent person, whom I am not worth a candle.

Who could it be?” Chichikov asked in amazement.

This is our farmer Muraeov.

Another time I hear about him!” Chichikov exclaimed.

This is a man who, not only with the estate of a landowner, will rule the whole state. If I had a state, I would immediately make him the Minister of Finance.

And, they say, a man who surpasses the measure of all probability: ten million, they say, has made.

What ten! over forty. Soon half of Russia will be in his hands.

What are you saying! cried Chichikov, wide-eyed and gaping.

By all means. It is clear. Slowly grows rich he who has some hundreds of thousands; and whoever has millions, his radius is great: whatever he captures, so twice and thrice against himself. The field, the field is too spacious, There are already no rivals. There is no one to compete with him. Whatever price he assigns to something, such will remain, there is no one to interrupt.

My God, my God!” said Chichikov, crossing himself. Chichikov looked into the eyes of Kostanzho-glo, his breath was taken away in his chest. The thought turns to stone with fear! One marvels at the wisdom of craft in looking at insects: for me it is more amazing that such huge sums can be circulated in the hands of a mortal. Let me ask you about one circumstance: tell me, is this, of course, not acquired without sin in the beginning?

In the most perfect way and by the most just means.

Incredible! If thousands, but millions...

On the contrary, it is difficult for thousands without sin, but millions are easy to gain. The millionaire has nothing to resort to crooked paths: go straight along the straight path, take everything that lies before you. Another will not raise: everyone is beyond their strength, there are no rivals. The radius is great, I say:

whatever captures, double or triple against<самого себя >. What about a thousand? Tenth, twentieth percent.

And what is most incomprehensible of all - that the matter began from a penny.

Yes, it doesn't happen otherwise. This is the lawful order of things, - said Costanjoglo. - He who was born with thousands and brought up in thousands, he will no longer gain, he has already got whims, and you never know what is missing! You need to start from the beginning, and not from the middle, - from the penny, and not from the ruble - from the bottom, not from the top. Here you only get to know the people and way of life well, among which you will then have to dodge.

How you endure this and that on your own skin, and how you know that every penny is nailed with an altyn nail, and how you go through all the ordeals, then you will be wiser and schooled, that you won’t make a mistake in any enterprise and you won’t break off. Believe me, it's true. You have to start from the beginning, not from the middle. Whoever says to me: "Give me a hundred thousand, I'll get rich now," - I will not believe him: he hits at random, and not for sure. You have to start with a penny.

In that case, I'll get rich, - said Chichikov, involuntarily thinking about dead souls, - for I really start with nothing.

Konstantin, it's time to give Pavel Ivanovich a rest and sleep, - said the hostess, - and you keep talking.

And you will certainly get rich,” said Kostanjog-lo, not listening to the mistress. “Rivers will flow to you, rivers of gold. You won't know what to do with your income.

Pavel Ivanovich sat spellbound; his thoughts whirled in the golden realm of daydreams and dreams. On the golden carpet of future profits, golden patterns were embroidered by a wild imagination, and the words resounded in his ears: "Rivers, rivers will flow of gold."

Really, Konstantin, it's time for Pavel Ivanovich to sleep.

What about you? Well, go ahead, if you like, - said the owner and stopped, because Platonov's snoring was heard loudly throughout the room, and after him Yarb dragged on even louder. Noticing that it was really time for a lodging for the night, he pushed Platonov aside, saying:

"Enough of your snoring!" and wished Chichikov good night. Everyone dispersed and soon fell asleep in their beds.

Chichikov alone could not sleep. His thoughts were awake. He was thinking about how to become a landowner of a not fantastic, but significant estate. After talking with the owner, everything became so clear. The opportunity to get rich seemed so obvious! The difficult business of the household now became so easy and understandable, and it seemed so characteristic of his very nature! If only to sell these dead people to a pawnshop and start a not [fantastic estate]. He already saw himself acting and ruling exactly as Costanjoglo taught: quickly, prudently, without starting anything new, without recognizing through and through everything old; looking out for everything with his own eyes, recognizing all the peasants, pushing all excesses away from himself, devoting himself only to labor and housekeeping. He already anticipated in advance the pleasure he would feel when orderly order was established and all the springs of the economic machine moved at a brisk pace, actively pushing each other. Labor will boil; and like that<как>flour is quickly grinded out of the grain in a mill that is going to be grinded out of all sorts of squabbles and rubbish, clean and clean. The wonderful host stood before him every minute. This was the first person in all of Russia, for whom he felt personal respect. Until now, he respected a person either for a good rank, or for great wealth. Actually, he did not respect a single person for the mind. Costanjoglo was the first. He realized that with this there was nothing to climb on any things. He was occupied with another project - to buy the Khlobuev estate. He had ten thousand; fifteen thousand he suggested trying to borrow from Costanjoglo, since he himself had already announced that he was ready to help anyone who wanted to get rich; the rest - somehow, or by pawning in a pawnshop, or so simply, by making them wait. After all, this is also possible: go and fumble around the courts, if there is a desire. And he thought about it for a long time. Finally, the dream, which for four whole hours had held the whole house, as they say, in its arms, finally accepted Chichikov into its arms. He fell asleep soundly.

Lesson 3 N.V. Gogol "Dead Souls" The system of images of the poem. Images of landlords (Manilov, Korobochka)

Goals: give students an idea about the system of images of the poem "Dead Souls"; to acquaint students with the images of landowners using the example of Manilov and Korobochka; to form the skills and abilities to build an answer to the question about a work of art based on theoretical and literary knowledge; improve the skills of analytical work with a prose text; promote the aesthetic and moral education of students; foster a culture of readership.

Equipment : textbook, text of the poem "Dead Souls", handout, table, illustrative material on the topic of the lesson.

Lesson type : lesson - analysisartwork

Predicted results : students knowabout the system of images of the poem by N.V. Gogol

"Dead Souls", are able to characterize the characters of the poem, analyze the text, retell individual episodes in the form of a description,participate in a conversation, develop their own point of view on a work of art in accordance with the author's position and historical era.

During the classes

I . Organizational stage

II. Updating of basic knowledge

Conversation (analysis of the first chapter)

Tell us what you learned from what you read about the main character of the work.

What was the purpose of his arrival in the provincial city?

Find in the text and read the portrait description of Chichikov. Why do you think the writer singles him out with his faceless appearance? Justify your answer. What words does the author express his attitude towards the character?

III. Motivation for learning activities

The poem was conceived by Gogol as a wide epic canvas, in which the author wanted to truthfully reflect, as in a pure mirror, living modernity.
The poem reflected Russia in the first third of the 19th century - Russia at that time, when the tsarist government, having dealt with the Decembrists, with the dreams of the best people in the country about the introduction of republican rule, intensively created a bureaucratic apparatus, when the assertive Chichikovs, businessmen-acquirers, went uphill, capable of making money from anything.
The poem is built in the form of a journey and allows the reader to look into all the details that interest him. The subject of attention is "Mr.

Image system. The figurative system of the poem is built in accordance with the three main plot and compositional links: landlord, bureaucratic Russia and the image of Chichikov. The peculiarity of the system of images lies in the fact that the contrast to the characters shown in the real plan of the poem makes up the ideal plan, where the author's voice is present and the image is created.

The first chapter of the poem can be defined as a kind of introduction. The action has not yet begun, and the author only outlines the characters in general terms. The reader begins to guess that Chichikov came to the provincial town with some intentions, which become clear later.

IV . Work on the topic of the lesson

1. Introductory speech of the teacher.

Creating images of landowners, Gogol does not just show us different types of owners of serf souls: dreamy loafers (Manilov), absolutely indifferent to the serfs entrusted to him; stingy (Sobakevich), who will not miss anything in life; "club-headed" boxes, bogged down in small-scale subsistence farming, where every piece of land, every piece, every box and casket is taken into account; senseless bullies (Nozdryov), who is more outrageous at fairs and on neighboring estates than at home; and finally, plushkins, phenomenal from all sides. The author creates a whole system of images, very realistic and at the same time distinctly satirical. He shows us "heroes" from all sides, using three types of description: portrait, landscape of the estate, interior of the landowner's house.

2. Collective work on compiling a reference diagram - an abstract "The system of images of the poem" (recording on the board and in a notebook)

The system of images of the poem

Chichikov	Landowners, villagers
	Manilov
	box
	Nozdrev
	Sobakevich
	Plushkin
Chichikov	Officials and city dwellers
	Governor
	Postmaster
	Chief of Police
	Prosecutor

3. Analytical conversation "Reflect, discuss"

a) Analysis of the first chapter

Which of the landowners does Chichikov visit first?

When does the first meeting between Chichikov and Manilov take place?

What is the leading detail in the description of the hero?

Tell me who Manilov is. What impression did he make on you?

What was the landlord doing? How does he feel about his property?

Find in the text and read the description of the interior of Manilov's house. - Expressively read how Manilov reacted to Chichikov's proposal to sell "dead souls." How does this scene characterize Manilov?

Justify your answer

Explain the term "manilovism"

Comment on the assessment of this chapter given by V.A. Zhukovsky: "Funny and painful."

b) Analysis of the third chapter

With the help of what artistic means does the author reveal the image of the Box? Examples from the text.

Find in the text and read the characteristics of the Box. What feature of the Box is leading? Examples from the text.

- Read expressively how Korobochka reacted to Chichikov's offer to sell "dead souls". How does this scene characterize the Box?

Think about whether this image can be called typical? Why?

What artistic technique enhances the author's generalization? Examples from the text.

4. Collective work on the compilation of the table “Heroes of the poem by N.V. Gogol "Dead Souls"

“Heroes of the poem by N.V. Gogol "Dead Souls"

Images of landlords
landowner	Characteristic	Attitude towards the request for the sale of dead souls
Manilov	Dirty and empty. For two years a book with a bookmark on one page has been lying in his office. Sweet and luscious is his speech.	Surprised. He thinks that this is illegal, but he cannot refuse such a pleasant person. Gives free peasants. At the same time, he does not know how many souls he has. -
box	Knows the value of money, practical and economic. Avaricious, stupid, cudgel-headed, landowneraccumulator	He wants to know what Chichikov's souls are for. The number of dead knows exactly (18 people). Looks at dead souls like hemp or bacon: suddenly come in handy on the farm
Nozdrev	It is considered a good friend, but is always ready to harm a friend. Kutila, card player, "broken fellow." When talking, jumps constantly from subject to subject, uses swearing	It would seem that it was easiest for Chichikov to get them from this landowner, but he is the only one who left him with nothing.
Sobakevich	Uncouth, clumsy, rude, unable to express feelings. A tough, vicious serf-owner who never misses a profit.	The smartest of all landowners. Immediately saw through the guest, made a deal with the benefit of himself.
Plushkin	Once he had a family, children, and he himself was a thrifty owner. But the death of the mistress turned this man into a miser. He became, like many widowers, stingy and suspicious.	I was amazed and delighted by his proposal, since there would be income. He agreed to sell the souls for 30 kopecks (78 souls in total).

5. Comparative work

Analysis of the images of Manilov and Korobochka (in pairs)

landowner	Environment	portrait	character	Attitude to Chichikov's request
Manilov (I met in the city, went by invitation)	The master's house stood alone on a hill; dull bluish forest; the day is either clear or gloomy, light gray; something was always missing in the house; The walls are painted with some kind of blue paint, like gray.	In his eyes, a prominent, pleasant man, he smiled enticingly; was blond with blue eyes	The man is so-so, neither this nor that, neither in the city of Bogdan, nor in the village of Selifan; spoke very little at home; thought a lot, fantasized; I've been reading page 14 for 2 years now	Surprised, agreed to transfer for free; does not know how many peasants died
box (accidentally hit while raining)	A small house, a yard full of birds, old wallpaper, paintings with birds, antique small mirrors, huge feather beds	An elderly woman, in a sleeping cap, with a flannel around her neck	Hospitable, sells honey, hemp, lard, feathers	He wonders why he needs them; knows the exact number of the dead (18 souls), is afraid of incurring a loss, wants to wait a bit, agreed to sell for 15 banknotes

V . Reflection. Summing up the lesson

Generalizing word of the teacher

The heroes of Gogol were not fictitious, book characters for Boklevsky. He lived for many years in the Ryazan province and easily recognized in the officials and landowners of the city of N the customs of the Russian province, well known to him.

Boklevsky completely refuses to reproduce everyday details and furnishings. His main task is to convey the intellectual poverty, the moral squalor of Gogol's types. Therefore, the artist is limited only to portraits of heroes, focuses on the image of their faces.

Manilov is represented by the artist as having a rest in the afternoon. Having loosened his tie, unbuttoned his waistcoat, with the same pipe with a long shank, he basks in an easy chair. Manilov is a delicate, educated gentleman. Therefore, down jackets dispose him to daydreaming. He rolled his eyes, threw back his head - he was carried away by fantasy under the clouds. However, he does not rise from the pillows, he remains in complete idleness, and it is clear to the viewer that Manilov's fantasies are as ephemeral as the smoke coming out of his pipe.

The box is "one of those mothers, small landowners who cry for crop failures, losses and hold their heads somewhat to one side, and meanwhile they are gaining a little money in motley bags placed in drawers of chests of drawers." The watercolor portrait of Korobochka represents a good-natured old woman of small stature, in a cap and bonnet, in funny knitted shoes. The round, soft figure of Nastasya Petrovna, with some kind of rag tied around her neck, surprisingly resembles a tightly stuffed sack or bag - an important attribute of a homely landowner. Boklevsky often gives Gogol's characters an appearance similar to one or another animal. This creates additional associations for the viewer, which contribute to a better understanding of the essence of the image. So, it is no coincidence that Sobakevich looks like a bear, and Chichikov looks like a cunning fox. Boklevsky's box makes you think about one of the small rodents, caring, homely animals that drag everything they see into their mink. In fact, she has round, surprised eyes, a triangle of raised upper lip, exposing the incisors, and, finally, short arms, innocently folded over a protruding abdomen, just like mouse paws.

VI . Homework

1. Prepare citation material for the images of Nozdrev, Sobakevich, Plyushkin.

2. Individual task. Prepare for the role play

3. Leading task. Prepare an oral answer to the problematic question: "For what purpose does Chichikov visit the landowners for five chapters?"

He twisted so violently in his chair that the woolen material that covered the pillow snapped; Manilov himself looked at him in some bewilderment. Prompted by gratitude, he immediately uttered so many thanks that he became confused, blushed all over, made a negative gesture with his head, and finally expressed himself that this being is nothing, that he, exactly, would like to prove in some way the heart's attraction, the magnetism of the soul, and the dead souls are, in a way, complete rubbish.

Don't be very rubbish,' said Chichikov, shaking his hand. A very deep sigh was let out here. He seemed to be in the mood for outpourings of the heart; not without feeling and expression, he finally uttered the following words: - If you only knew what service you rendered to this, apparently, rubbish, to a man without tribe and family! And indeed, what did I not tolerate? like some kind of barge among the ferocious waves ... What kind of persecution, what persecution did not experience, what grief did not taste, but for what? for keeping the truth, for being pure in his conscience, for giving a hand to both the helpless widow and the miserable orphan!.. - Here he even wiped away a tear with a handkerchief.

Manilov was completely moved. Both friends shook each other's hands for a long time and looked silently into each other's eyes for a long time, in which tears were visible. Manilov did not want to let go of our hero's hand and continued to press it so fervently that he no longer knew how to rescue it. Finally, pulling it out slowly, he said that it would not be a bad thing to complete the bill of sale as soon as possible, and it would be good if he himself visited the city. Then he took his hat and began to take his leave.

How? do you want to go? - said Manilov, suddenly waking up and almost frightened.

At this time, she entered Manilov's office.

Lizanka,” said Manilov with a somewhat pitiful look, “Pavel Ivanovich is leaving us!”

Because we are tired of Pavel Ivanovich, - answered Manilova.

Madam! here, - said Chichikov, - here, here, - here he put his hand on his heart, - yes, here will be the pleasantness of the time spent with you! and believe me, there would be no greater bliss for me than to live with you, if not in the same house, then at least in the very nearest neighborhood.

Do you know, Pavel Ivanovich,” said Manilov, who was very pleased with such an idea, “how nice it would really be if we could live like that together, under the same roof, or under the shade of some elm tree, philosophize about something, go deeper! ..

ABOUT! it would be heavenly life! said Chichikov, sighing. - Farewell, ma'am! he continued, going up to Manilova's pen. - Farewell, dearest friend! Don't forget the requests!

Oh, be sure! - answered Manilov. “I shall part with you no longer than for two days.

Everyone went to the dining room.

Farewell, little darlings! - said Chichikov, seeing Alkid and Themistoclus, who were busy with some kind of wooden hussar, who no longer had either a hand or a nose. - Farewell, my little ones. You will excuse me that I did not bring you a present, because, I confess, I did not even know whether you lived in the world, but now, when I arrive, I will certainly bring it. I will bring you a saber; do you want a sword?

I want, - replied Themistoclus.

And you have a drum; don't you, you drum? he continued, leaning towards Alcides.

Parapan, - Alkid answered in a whisper and bowed his head.

Okay, I'll bring you a drum. Such a glorious drum, so everything will be: turrr ... ru ... tra-ta-ta, ta-ta-ta ... Farewell, darling! Goodbye! - Here he kissed him on the head and turned to Manilov and his wife with a slight laugh, with which parents are usually addressed, letting them know about the innocence of the desires of their children.

Really, stay, Pavel Ivanovich! - said Manilov, when everyone had already gone out onto the porch. - Look at the clouds.

These are little clouds, - answered Chichikov.

Do you know the way to Sobakevich?

I want to ask you about this.

Let me tell your coachman now.

Here Manilov, with the same courtesy, told the matter to the coachman and even said to him "you" once.

The coachman, hearing that it was necessary to skip two turns and turn on the third, said: "Let's have fun, your honor," - and Chichikov left, accompanied by long bows and waving of a handkerchief from the hosts who were rising on tiptoe.

Manilov stood for a long time on the porch, following the retreating britzka with his eyes, and when it was no longer visible at all, he was still standing, smoking his pipe. At last he entered the room, sat down on a chair and gave himself over to reflection, sincerely glad that he had given his guest a little pleasure. Then his thoughts drifted imperceptibly to other objects, and finally drifted to God knows where. He thought about the well-being of a friendly life, about how nice it would be to live with a friend on the banks of some river, then a bridge began to be built across this river, then a huge house with such a high belvedere that you can even see Moscow from there and there drink tea in the evening in the open air and talk about some pleasant subjects. Then, that they, together with Chichikov, arrived at some kind of society in good carriages, where they enchant everyone with pleasant treatment, and that it was as if the sovereign, having learned about their friendship, granted them generals, and then, finally, God knows what is, what he himself could not make out. Chichikov's strange request suddenly interrupted all his dreams. The thought of her somehow did not particularly boil in his head: no matter how he turned it over, he could not explain it to himself, and all the time he sat and smoked his pipe, which lasted until dinner.

Chapter Three

And Chichikov, in a contented frame of mind, was sitting in his britzka, which had been rolling along the high road for a long time. From the previous chapter it is already clear what was the main object of his taste and inclinations, and therefore it is not surprising that he soon immersed himself completely in it, both in body and soul. The assumptions, estimates and considerations that wandered over his face were evidently very pleasant, for every minute they left behind traces of a contented smile. Busy with them, he did not pay any attention to how his coachman, pleased with the reception of Manilov's yard people, made very sensible remarks to the shaggy harness horse harnessed on the right side. This gray-haired horse was very cunning and showed only for the sake of appearances, as if he was lucky, while the native bay and harness coat of color, called the Assessor, because he was acquired from some assessor, worked with all their hearts, so that even in their eyes it was noticeably the pleasure they derive from it. "Cunning, cunning! Here, I'll outwit you! said Selifan, rising and whipping the sloth with his whip. - You know your business, pantaloon you are German! The bay is a respectable horse, he does his duty, I will gladly give him an extra measure, because he is a respectable horse, and the Assessor is also a good horse ... Well, well! what are you shaking your ears? You fool, listen when they say! I will not teach you ignorant things. Look where it's crawling!" Here he again whipped him with a whip, saying; "Oh, barbarian! Bonaparte you damned! Then he shouted at everyone: “Hey you, dear ones!” - and lashed at all three, no longer as a punishment, but to show that he was pleased with them. Having delivered such pleasure, he again turned his speech to the chubarom: “You think that you will hide your behavior. No, you live by the truth when you want to be honored. Here is the landowner that we were, good people. I'll be happy to talk if a good person; with a good person we are always our friends, subtle buddies; whether to drink tea or have a snack - willingly, if a good person. A good person will be respected by everyone. Here everyone respects our gentleman, because, you hear, he performed the state service, he is a scole adviser ... "

Thus reasoning, Selifan at last climbed into the most remote abstractions. If Chichikov had listened, he would have learned many details relating to him personally; but his thoughts were so occupied with his subject that only a strong clap of thunder made him wake up and look around him; the whole sky was completely covered with clouds, and the dusty post road was sprinkled with raindrops. At last the thunderclap resounded another time louder and closer, and the rain suddenly gushed as if from a bucket. First, taking an oblique direction, he whipped at one side of the body of the wagon, then at the other, then, changing the mode of attack and becoming completely straight, he drummed directly on the top of its body; spray finally began to reach him in the face. This made him draw back the leather curtains with two round windows, determined to view the road views, and order Selifan to go faster. Selifan, also interrupted in the very middle of his speech, realized that there really was no need to linger, immediately pulled out some rubbish from under the goat, put it in his sleeves, grabbed the reins in his hands and shouted at his troika, which she moved her feet a little, for she felt a pleasant relaxation from instructive speeches. But Selifan could not remember whether he had driven two or three turns. Thinking and remembering the road somewhat, he guessed that there were many turns, which he all missed by. Since a Russian person in decisive moments will find something to do without delving into distant arguments, then, turning to the right, onto the first crossroads, he shouted: “Hey you, respected friends!” - and set off at a gallop, thinking little about where the road taken would lead.

The rain, however, seemed to have charged for a long time. The dust lying on the road was quickly mixed into mud, and every minute it became harder for the horses to drag the britzka. Chichikov was already beginning to get very worried, not seeing the village of Sobakevich for so long. According to his calculations, it would be high time to come. He looked around, but the darkness was such that even gouge out the eye.

Selifan! he said at last, leaning out of the britzka.

What, sir? answered Selifan.

Look, can't you see the village?

No, sir, nowhere to be seen! - After which Selifan, waving his whip, sang a song, not a song, but something so long that there was no end. Everything went in there: all the encouraging and motivating cries with which horses are regaled all over Russia from one end to the other; adjectives of all genders without further analysis as to what first came to mind. Thus it came to the point that he finally began to call them secretaries.

Meanwhile Chichikov began to notice that the britzka was swaying in all directions and endowing him with overwhelming jolts; this gave him the feeling that they had swerved off the road and were probably dragging themselves across a harrowed field. Selifan seemed to realize it himself, but did not say a word.

What, swindler, which road are you on? Chichikov said.

Yes, well, sir, to do, the time is something like that; you don't see the whip, it's so dark! - Having said this, he squinted the britzka so much that Chichikov was forced to hold on with both hands. It was only then that he noticed that Selifan had gone for a walk.

Hold, hold, overturn! he shouted at him.

No, master, how can I knock it over, - said Selifan. - It's not good to overturn, I already know myself; I won't tip over. - Then he began to slightly turn the britzka, turned, turned, and finally turned it completely on its side. Chichikov flopped into the mud with both hands and feet. Selifan, however, stopped the horses, however, they would have stopped themselves, because they were very exhausted. Such an unforeseen event completely astonished him. Climbing down from the goat, he stood in front of the britzka, leaned on his sides with both hands, while the master floundered in the mud, trying to get out of there, and said after some reflection: “You see, and spread over!”

You're drunk as a shoemaker! Chichikov said.

No, sir, how can I be drunk! I know it's not a good thing to be drunk. I talked to a friend, because you can talk to a good person, there is nothing bad in that; and ate together. Snack is not a hurtful affair; you can eat with a good person.

What did I tell you the last time you got drunk? A? forgot? Chichikov said.

No, your honor, how can I forget. I already know my business. I know it's not good to be drunk. I talked to a good person, because ...

So I'll whip you, so you'll know how to talk to a good person!

As your grace pleases, - answered Selifan, agreeing to everything, - if you carve, then carve; I don't mind that at all. Why not cut, if for the cause, then the will of the master. It needs to be whipped, because the peasant is playing around, order must be observed. If for the cause, then cut; why not bite?

To such a reasoning, the master could not at all find what to answer. But at that time, it seemed as if fate itself had decided to take pity on him. A dog barking was heard in the distance. Delighted, Chichikov gave the order to drive the horses. The Russian driver has good instincts instead of eyes; from this it happens that, closing his eyes, he sometimes pumps at the top of his lungs and always arrives somewhere. Selifan, not seeing a thing, steered the horses so straight at the village that he stopped only when the britzka hit the fence with the shafts, and when there was absolutely nowhere to go. Chichikov only noticed something resembling a roof through the thick cover of pouring rain. He sent Selifan to look for the gates, which, no doubt, would have continued for a long time if in Rus' there were not dashing dogs instead of porters, who announced him so loudly that he raised his fingers to his ears. Light flickered in one window and reached the fence in a misty stream, indicating the gate to our travelers. Selifan began to knock, and soon, opening the gate, a figure leaned out, covered with a coat, and the master and the servant heard a hoarse woman's voice:

Who is knocking? what did they disperse?

Visitors, mother, let me spend the night, - said Chichikov.

You see, what a sharp-legged one, - said the old woman, - you arrived at what time! This is not an inn for you: the landowner lives.

What to do, mother: look, you have lost your way. Do not spend the night at such a time in the steppe.

Yes, the time is dark, not a good time,” added Selifan.

Be quiet, fool, - said Chichikov.

Who are you? said the old woman.

Nobleman, mother.

The word "nobleman" made the old woman seem to think a little.

Wait a minute, I’ll tell the lady, ”she said, and after two minutes she returned with a lantern in her hand.

The gates were unlocked. A light flickered in another window. The britchka, having driven into the yard, stopped in front of a small house, which was difficult to see because of the darkness. Only one half of it was illuminated by the light coming from the windows; there was still a puddle in front of the house, which was directly struck by the same light. The rain pounded noisily on the wooden roof and trickled down in murmuring streams into the barrel. Meanwhile, the dogs burst into all possible voices: one, throwing his head up, led out so slowly and with such diligence, as if he received God knows what salary for this; another sipped hastily, like a sexton; between them rang, like a postal bell, an irrepressible treble, probably a young puppy, and all this was finally done by a bass, perhaps an old man endowed with a hefty canine nature, because he wheezed, as a singing double bass wheezes when a concert is in full flow: tenor rise on tiptoe from a strong desire to strike a high note, and everything that is, rushes upward, throwing its head, and he alone, thrusting his unshaven chin into a tie, crouching and lowering himself almost to the ground, misses his note from there, from which they shake and rattle glass. Already by one dog barking, composed of such musicians, it could be assumed that the village was decent; but our hero, soaked and cold, thought of nothing but the bed. Before the britzka had time to stop completely, he had already jumped onto the porch, staggered and almost fell. A woman again came out onto the porch, younger than the previous one, but very similar to her. She escorted him into the room. Chichikov threw two casual glances: the room was hung with old striped wallpaper; pictures with some birds; between the windows there are small antique mirrors with dark frames in the form of curled leaves; behind every mirror there was either a letter, or an old pack of cards, or a stocking; wall clock with painted flowers on the dial ... it was impossible to notice anything else. He felt that his eyes were sticky, as if someone had smeared them with honey. A minute later the hostess came in, an elderly woman, in some kind of sleeping cap, put on hastily, with a flannel around her neck, one of those mothers, small landowners who cry over crop failures, losses and hold their heads a little to one side, and meanwhile they collect a little money in variegated bags placed in chests of drawers. All the coins are taken into one bag, fifty dollars into another, quarters into the third, although it seems as if there is nothing in the chest of drawers except linen, and night blouses, and cotton hanks, and an open coat, which then turns into a dress, if the old will somehow burn out during the baking of holiday cakes with all sorts of spinners, or it will wear out by itself. But the dress will not burn and will not wear out by itself: the old woman is thrifty, and the coat is destined to lie torn open for a long time, and then, according to the spiritual testament, go to the niece of her great-sister, along with all other rubbish.

Chichikov apologized for disturbing her by his unexpected arrival.

Nothing, nothing, said the hostess. - At what time did God bring you! Such confusion and blizzard... You should have something to eat from the road, but it's time for the night, you can't cook.

The words of the hostess were interrupted by a strange hiss, so that the guest was frightened; the noise was like the whole room was filled with snakes; but, looking up, he calmed down, for he realized that the wall clock had a desire to strike. The hissing was immediately followed by a wheezing, and finally, straining with all their strength, they struck two o'clock with the sound of someone pounding on a broken pot with a stick, after which the pendulum began again to click quietly right and left.

Chichikov thanked the hostess, saying that he didn’t need anything, so that she wouldn’t worry about anything, that he didn’t demand anything except a bed, and was only curious to know what places he had stopped by and how far the path to the landowner Sobakevich was from here, on that the old woman said that she had never heard such a name, and that there was no such landowner at all.

Do you at least know Manilov? Chichikov said.

And who is Manilov?

Landlord, mother.

No, I have not heard, there is no such landowner.

What are there?

Bobrov, Svinin, Kanapatiev, Harpakin, Trepakin, Pleshakov.

Rich people or not?

No, father, there aren't too many rich people. Who has twenty souls, who has thirty, and there are no such, so that in a hundred.

Chichikov noticed that he had driven into quite a wilderness.

Is it at least far from the city?

And there will be sixty versts. How sorry I am that you have nothing to eat! would you like to have some tea, father?

Thank you, mother. You don't need anything but a bed.

True, from such a road, you really need to take a break. Here, sit down, father, on this sofa. Hey, Fetinya, bring a featherbed, pillows and a sheet. For some time, God sent: such a thunder - I had a candle burning all night in front of the icon. Eh, my father, but you, like a boar, have mud all over your back and side! where so deigned to get salty?

Still thank God that it just got salty, you need to thank that it didn’t completely break off the sides.

Saints, what passions! Isn't it necessary to rub your back with something?

Thank you, thank you. Don't worry, just order your girl to dry and clean my dress.

Do you hear, Fetinya! - said the hostess, turning to the woman, who was coming out onto the porch with a candle, who had already managed to drag the feather bed and, fluffing it from both sides with her hands, sent a whole flood of feathers all over the room. - You take their caftan along with the underwear and first dry them in front of the fire, as they did to the deceased master, and then grind and beat them out well.

Listen, ma'am! - said Fetinya, spreading a sheet over the feather bed and putting pillows.

Well, here's your bed ready, - said the hostess. - Farewell, father, I wish you good night. Is there anything else needed? Maybe you are used, my father, to someone scratching your heels at night? My dead man could not fall asleep without this.

But the guest also refused to scratch his heels. The hostess went out, and he hurried to undress at the same time, giving Fetinya all the harness he had taken off, both upper and lower, and Fetinya, also wishing good night from her side, dragged off this wet armor. Left alone, he looked with pleasure at his bed, which was almost to the ceiling. Fetinya, apparently, was a master of fluffing up feather beds. When, holding out a chair, he climbed onto the bed, it sank under him almost to the very floor, and the feathers he had driven out of the limits scattered into all corners of the room. Having extinguished the candle, he covered himself with a cotton blanket and, curled up under it like a pretzel, fell asleep at that very moment. He woke up on another laziness already quite late in the morning. The sun shone through the window straight into his eyes, and the flies that yesterday had slept peacefully on the walls and on the ceiling all turned to him: one landed on his lip, another on his ear, a third strove to land on his very eye, the same one that had the imprudence to sit down close to the nasal nostril, he pulled sleepily into the very nose, which made him sneeze hard - a circumstance that was the reason for his awakening. Glancing around the room, he now noticed that the paintings were not all birds: between them hung a portrait of Kutuzov and an old man painted in oils with red cuffs on his uniform, as they sewed under Pavel Petrovich. The clock hissed again and struck ten; A woman's face peeped out the door and hid at the same moment, for Chichikov, wanting to sleep better, threw off everything completely. The face he looked out seemed somewhat familiar to him. He began to remember to himself: who would it be, and finally remembered that it was the hostess. He put on a shirt; the dress, already dried and cleaned, lay beside him. Having dressed, he went up to the mirror and sneezed again so loudly that an Indian rooster, who had come up to the window at that time - the window was very close to the ground - suddenly began to chatter something to him and very soon in his strange language, probably “I wish you well”, to which Chichikov told him he was a fool. Going up to the window, he began to examine the views before him: the window looked almost into the chicken coop; at least the narrow courtyard in front of him was full of birds and all kinds of domestic creatures. Turkeys and chickens were innumerable; a rooster paced among them with measured steps, shaking its comb and turning its head to one side, as if listening to something; a pig with a family found himself right there; right there, raking a heap of rubbish, she casually ate a chicken and, without noticing it, continued to cover the watermelon peels in her own order. This small courtyard, or chicken coop, was blocked by a wooden fence, behind which stretched spacious vegetable gardens with cabbage, onions, potatoes, light and other household vegetables. Apple trees and other fruit trees were scattered here and there in the garden, covered with nets to protect against magpies and sparrows, of which the latter were transported from one place to another in whole indirect clouds. For the same reason, several effigies were hoisted on long poles, with outstretched arms; one of them was wearing the cap of the hostess herself. The gardens were followed by peasant huts, which, although they were built scattered and not enclosed in regular streets, but, according to a remark made by Chichikov, showed the contentment of the inhabitants, for they were properly maintained: the worn-out board on the roofs was everywhere replaced by a new one; the gates did not squint anywhere, and in the peasant covered sheds facing him, he noticed where there was a spare almost new cart, and where there were two. “Yes, her village is not small,” he said, and decided to immediately get into conversation and get to know the hostess more briefly. He peered through the crack in the door, from which she had just stuck her head out, and, seeing her sitting at the tea-table, went in to her with a cheerful and affectionate air.

Hello, father. What was it like to rest? said the hostess, rising from her seat. She was better dressed than yesterday - in a dark dress and no longer in a sleeping cap, but there was still something tied around her neck.

All right, all right, - said Chichikov, sitting down in an armchair. - How are you, mother?

Bad, my father.

How so?

Insomnia. All the lower back hurts, and the leg, which is higher than the bone, so it hurts.

It will pass, it will pass, mother. There is nothing to see.

Please God let it pass. I smeared it with pork fat and moistened it with turpentine too. What do you sip your tea with? Fruit in a flask.

Thumbs up, mother, sip and fruit.

The reader, I think, has already noticed that Chichikov, despite his affectionate air, nevertheless spoke with more freedom than with Manilov, and did not stand on ceremony at all. It must be said, who among us in Rus', if they have not kept pace with foreigners in some other way, then far surpassed them in their ability to communicate. It is impossible to enumerate all the shades and subtleties of our appeal. A Frenchman or a German does not understand and will not understand all his features and differences; he will speak in almost the same voice and the same language with a millionaire and with a petty tobacco dealer, although, of course, in his soul he will scoff in moderation before the first. It’s not the same with us: we have such wise men who will speak with a landowner who has two hundred souls in a completely different way than with one who has three hundred of them, and who has three hundred of them, they will again speak differently from the one with who has five hundred of them, but with the one who has five hundred, again it is not the same as with the one who has eight hundred - in a word, even ascend to a million, everything will find shades. Suppose, for example, there is an office, not here, but in a distant state, but in the office, let's say, there is a ruler of the office. I ask you to look at him when he is sitting among his subordinates - you just can’t utter a word from fear! pride and nobility, and what does not his face express? just take a brush and draw: Prometheus, decisive Prometheus! He looks out like an eagle, performs smoothly, measuredly. The same eagle, as soon as he left the room and approaches his boss's office, hurries like a partridge with papers under his arm that there is no urine. In society and at a party, if everyone is of a low rank, Prometheus will remain Prometheus, and a little higher than him, such a transformation will take place with Prometheus, which even Ovid will not invent: a fly, even less than a fly, has annihilated into a grain of sand! “Yes, this is not Ivan Petrovich,” you say, looking at him. - Ivan Petrovich is taller, and this one is short and thin; that one speaks loudly, basses and never laughs, but this devil knows what: he squeaks like a bird and laughs all the time. You come closer, you look - just Ivan Petrovich! “Ehe-he,” you think to yourself ... But, however, let's turn to the characters. Chichikov, as we have already seen, decided not to stand on ceremony at all, and therefore, taking a cup of tea in his hands and pouring fruit into it, he spoke as follows:

You, mother, have a good village. How many showers does it have?

There is a shower in it, my father, almost eighty, - said the hostess, - but the trouble is, the times are bad, so last year there was such a crop failure, God forbid.

However, the peasants look hefty, the huts are strong. Let me know your last name. I was so distracted ... arrived at night ...:

Korobochka, collegiate secretary.

Thank you very much. What about first and last name?

Nastasya Petrovna.

Nastasya Petrovna? good name Nastasya Petrovna. I have an aunt, my mother's sister, Nastasya Petrovna.

How about your name? - asked the landowner. - After all, you, I tea, an assessor?

No, mother, - answered Chichikov, grinning, - tea, not an assessor, and so we go about our business.

Oh, so you're a buyer! What a pity, really, that I sold honey to merchants so cheaply, but you, my father, would surely buy it from me.

But I wouldn't buy honey.

What else? Is it a stump? Yes, I don’t even have enough hemp now: half a pood of everything.

No, mother, a different kind of merchant: tell me, did your peasants die?

Oh, father, eighteen people - said the old woman, sighing. - And such an all-glorious people died, all the workers. After that, it’s true, they were born, but what’s in them: everything is such a small thing; and the assessor drove up - to file, he says, to pay from the soul. The people are dead, but pay as if they were alive. Last week my blacksmith burned down, such a skilled blacksmith knew locksmith skills.

Did you have a fire, mother?

God saved from such a disaster, a fire would be even worse; burned himself, my father. It somehow caught fire inside him, he drank too much, only a blue light came from him, all decayed, decayed and blackened like coal, and such was an excellent blacksmith! and now I have nothing to ride on: there is no one to shoe the horses.

God willing, mother! - said Chichikov, sighing, - nothing can be said against the wisdom of God ... Give them to me, Nastasya Petrovna?

Whom, father?

Yes, these are all that died.

But how can you give them up?

Yes, it's that simple. Or maybe sell it. I will give you money for them.

Yes, how? I'm right, I won't take it for granted. Do you want to dig them out of the ground?

Chichikov saw that the old woman had gone a long way, and that it was necessary for her to explain what was the matter. In a few words, he explained to her that the transfer or purchase would only be on paper, and the souls would be registered as if alive.

What are they for you? said the old woman, bulging her eyes at him.

It's my business.

Yes, they are dead.

Who says they are alive? That's why it's a loss to you that the dead: you pay for them, and now I'll save you the hassle and payment. Do you understand? Yes, I will not only save you, but on top of that I will give you fifteen rubles. Well, is it clear now?

Really, I don’t know, - the hostess said with an arrangement. - After all, I have never sold the dead

Still would! It would be more like a miracle if you sold them to someone. Or do you think that they really have some use?

No, I don't think so. What is the use of them, there is no use. The only thing that bothers me is that they're already dead.

“Well, the woman seems to be strong-browed!” Chichikov thought to himself.

Listen, mother. Yes, you only judge carefully: - after all, you are ruined, you pay taxes for him, as for a living ...

Oh, my father, don't talk about it! - picked up the landowner. - Another third week brought more than a hundred and fifty. Yes, she oiled the assessor.

Well, you see, mother. And now take into account only that you no longer need to butter up the assessor, because now I am paying for them; me, not you; I take on all the responsibilities. I will even make a fortress with my own money, do you understand that?

Third chapter.

In a contented and very good mood
Our Chichikov was already rolling along the pole.
And you learned from the past words what is dry,
What is its main interest as such.

That's why it's not surprising that it all plunged
Soul in it and body, all thoughts about one,
Assumptions, estimates - he worked with thoughts.
Wandering smiles are pleasant, mostly.

Having done all this, I did not pay attention
On where he was: how he soared in the clouds!
As the coachman Selifan made remarks aloud -
He spoke angrily to the chubarsky harness.

This shabby horse was a crafty figure:
Often pretended to be lucky,
Whereas the indigenous and attached brown
We worked with all our hearts so that the chaise would fly in!

Kaurogo who sold it was an assessor. Was it called?
And the horse became an Assessor, to which he did not object ...
And the native, bay, Bay was nicknamed,
Hear only a nickname, invitingly neighing immediately.

Selifan has enough experience and knowledge:
He saw through the slyness of the forelock a long time ago!
A whip along the back could stretch painfully,
But he was looking for a moment to deceive anyway ...

"Cunning, cunning, cunning! - again noticing the game,
It flew from the irradiation - I'll outwit it!
And once again struck with a whip-lash:
“I won’t miss it, don’t think! I'll take a look!

Look, bay, how he does his duty
And the Assessor is also a good, good horse!
I give them oats for that - let them replenish their strength
And not one - two measures! Don't you dare, don't touch!

You do the job, German pantolone!
What are you spinning with your ears? They tell you!
Do I teach bad things? Not a bad fan!
Wu! Bonaparte damned "And again with a whip in a row

For all three already, not in the form of punishment,
And in order to show how pleased he was,
Shouting: “Oh, dear!” multiplied their efforts.
The chaise rushes like an arrow, only dirt from all sides ...

He was silent for a while and again speech to the chubarom:
"You think you'll hide the manner from me?
No! You live in truth: in a good way, in an old way,
To get the title of a respectable horse!

For example, in that estate, now here we are from,
All good people, the most pleasant welcome.
I'll tell you this: I won't soon forget,
How they were received there, with respect, moreover!

With a good man I speak kindly:
We are friends with him for many years!
Whether to just drink tea or have a meal in a refectory -
With great pleasure! Refusal never!

Here our master is considered respected
And they pay respect! You know why?
He performed the service as needed, not just - to the sovereign!
Skolesskoy he adviser! A scientist in the mind ... "

So arguing, the coachman climbed into the darkness, in the distance
Or, let's say, in abstraction - where he himself did not know,
But it is clear that he was not expected there ...
Listen suddenly Chichikov, you would know this!

But he did not hear all these reflections at all,
All immersed in thoughts somewhere inward,
In delight dissolved from so many impressions,
With the most pleasant calculation, the nerves are tugging at ...

But then suddenly there is a rumble of thunder, the strongest peals,
Made me wake up and look around
To the sky in black clouds that once appeared,
Suddenly, as it seemed, all overlaid around.

Dust-covered post road
Sprayed, nailed ... for droplets a game ...
Thunder another time louder and closer already a lot
And then the rain poured down, as if from a bucket,

Having immediately taken an oblique direction,
He whipped the wagon from the sides, as if on the cheeks,
In turn, evil, without a share of regret,
He completely unbelted himself and gave free rein to his "hands" ...

Then he suddenly changed his attack from something:
He was already knocking on the roof, but with a powerful "fist",
Sheer, straight, strong water fall from heaven!
Who of you with this, tell me, is not familiar?

The drops were often crushed and the spray scattered.
More and more, more often, more often and now in the face ...
He drew the curtains that were attached to the walls,
With transparent windows with a chicken egg,

Or maybe a little more so you can see something
And in bad weather, too, if there was a need!
The coachman is obliged to know all this, to foresee,
Since bad weather is often very evil ...

Now he gave the order to go faster,
But Selifan himself realized that
What is it, of course, and it is hardly worth delaying!
He attached the top three famously, whipping it with a whip.

From the gray cloth now came into the world
(under the goats lay all the time with him)
Rubbish, let's say, utter, wrapped around the sleeves,
Probably from the rain ... But what would it be for?

Carried away by thoughts, did not think about the road
And no matter how hard he tried now, he could not remember everything:
How many turns were there? I confessed to myself - a lot ...
That's why there are so many of them, why among the roads?

How has it been going on in Rus' for a long time?
Whatever happens where - talk less!
At the decisive moment, a Russian will always be found:
First act somehow, then discuss everything!

The exit is visible to the right, turned right,
Shouting to the three: “Hey, you!” and for some reason: "Well!"
Have already started galloping, thinking a little
Where the road leads, the marked path ...

And the rain seemed to be and will be for a very long time.
The dust was immediately mixed into sticky dirt ...
Horses often suddenly parted legs ...
It was getting harder and harder ... It was expected that they would say: “Get down!”

And the darkness hangs so that nothing can be seen,
Even if your eyes are completely black...
At such a time in the field, anyone should be offended ...
I wanted to live in warmth, but no - emptiness ...

And Chichikov, understandably, was in great anxiety:
It's time to come to Sobakevich's estate!
They are all on the way ... Already completely upset
He called to Selifan, not knowing what to do...

He turned around immediately: “What, master?” - responded.
"Can't you see where the villages are?" "No, sir, you can't see it!"
He waved his whip and played out a song,
Or maybe not a song ... How to give her a name?

All the cries of approval came in there,
To treat what they loved horses,
As well as adjectives of all genders without crushing,
Well, that is, indiscriminately, known among people ...

What came first, then immediately sang ...
The beginning was a stump - the end would be faster ...
And it came to that, or just came:
He elevated his horses to the category of secretaries!

Meanwhile, our master of the road is deteriorating
I felt it on my sides: it shook oh-oh-oh ...
What was the result, of course, omissions
The same Selifan, he was to blame!

And Selifan seemed to realize what was the matter:
Straight across the harrowed field dragged ...
He himself was in charge, fell silent dazedly,
Didn't say a word, admit it out of hand...

"What are you doing, swindler? Which way are you going?"
“Yes, what is there, sir, to do? Can't see the whip...
The darkness has fallen so, it’s not cunning that you’ll stop by ...
Perhaps, yes, and we will slip through ... we will have to be patient ... "

While he was talking, so the britzka leaned,
That Chichikov was forced to cling to the edges
With both hands! “Hold it! Do me a favor!
And only then did I notice that the coachman was walking up ...

“Hold it, because you will overturn!” "No, sir, it's impossible!
I already know that it's not good...
Really for the first time? No, we can't
I won’t overturn in any way ... Here I came up with another ... "

But the chaise skidded and skidded decently.
Lightly, little by little, he moved it as best he could.
He turned and turned - he knew the matter perfectly
And soon he turned over - he lay down completely on his side ...

And Chichikov with a swing of his arms and legs
Immediately flew into the most disgusting mud ...
And he to the horses: “Stop!”, But they already got up on their own.
He is from the goat of his tears, saying: “Those times!”

Sim was pretty surprised by what happened ...
Now he stood in front of the chaise, propping his side with his hand,
Then another ... so picturesque, elegant ...
I thought a little: “Look, what a case!

Really flipped!" And the barin at this time
In pitch darkness floundered in the mud,
Trying to get up somehow, all covered up to the crown ...
Everything has finally risen! Use one foot…

He sat down again in the britzka and with abuse to Selifan:
"What are you, a robber? After all, like a shoemaker, drunk!
“No, sir, how is it possible? I will not deceive
I had dinner with a friend ... What would be the flaw here?

We talked to him ... or is it not possible that way?
There is nothing wrong with that, even if you have a bite to eat!
With a good man, I tea, always possible
And it’s not offensive at all, even if you ask someone! ”

“Have you forgotten everything I said?
That was the last time you got drunk!”
“No, your honor! I remember everything and I won't hide it
That I know my business, that it’s a shame to be a drunkard ...

It would be nothing, spoke cordially ...
It's nice to talk to a good person ... "
“Here I will flog you, so you will remember forever,
How to make conversation and can you drink!”

“And this is how welcome - he answered according to -
If it will be necessary to carve, why not carve?
The Lord's will ... care every hour ...
For the cause it is possible ... to ensure order ... "

Hearing this, the master with the answer was not found,
But at the same moment a little apart
As if someone's dog went hoarse
A gift from fate and quite on time!

Pleased with Chichikov, he ordered to send
Exhausted trio, without delay, hurry,
In order to put them in a corral to rest
And most happen welcome near the door.

The Russian driver always has a flair to boot
To the usual sight of all or instead of the eyes,
From this often he rules at random,
Even if it’s blind, it will come just right!

That's how Selifan, not distinguishing a single thing,
Sent the horses to the village at random
And he got up when he landed on the fence
I’m dumbfounded by the britzka, I pulled back a little ...

A roof was visible behind a veil of rain.
Having sent to look for the gate, our hero understood
The process could take too long,
But, of course, he also knew something else:

More reliable than doormen are the master's dogs,
Which, of course, will immediately inform
That at the gates of strangers, they will fill up with barking in every way:
Who is bigger - bass, smaller - squeal ...

And in one window, as if something flashed,
Reaching the fence with a foggy stream.
The gate opened, and a figure appeared:
"What did you waste?" - I came to ask, risking ...

“We are newcomers, mother. Let me spend the night!"
Chichikov answered the demand. She answered him:
“Ay, do you want to find an inn here?
I'll tell you what: there is no such thing!

Ay, eastern one! What time did you choose...
Here people are respected: the landowner lives!
Knocking at night ... only anxiety ... a burden ...
Walk with God! No one is waiting for you here…”

“Yes, who are you?” the old woman asked again.
"I'm from a noble family!" "So, nobleman?"
She was silent for a while, then said dryly:
"I'm going to tell my lady! Wait, sir!

Two minutes later she returned to the gate.
A lantern shone in his hand. The gates were unlocked.
The other window lit up a little.
We drove into the yard, almost ran into the house ...

The house looks small, hidden from sight by darkness,
With one part, it seemed to send greetings
Those who arrived were not invited. Good, open
His inviting light streamed from the windows.

There was a puddle in front of the house. The light hit the depths
Flickering, shimmering, crushed into lights ...
The guests are not up to the unexpected picture -
They intend to enter under the roof as soon as possible ...

On this very roof, the rain drummed noisily.
The rimmed barrel filled up.
Owner's dogs, grouped together,
Completely gone from barking, showing power.

Some kind of dog, throwing his head to his back,
So he drew it out lingeringly, as if he was receiving
More than others ... they paid, perhaps not equally?
I tried for money ... otherwise I would have shut up ...

The other seemed to be grabbing ... grabbing hastily,
As a church sexton, one has to compare ...
About inter rang the postal bell often, soon,
Restless treble, twisting to twist ...

Overlapping all or, say, verifying,
With the sound of a double bass, a thick bass was woven,
Perhaps, the old man, completing in unity,
He wheezed, as a double bass wheezes in concerts ...

Imagine a choir: how tenors try
Take a higher note, standing on tiptoe,
And everything that neither is, everything is torn to the top,
As a score requires or a choral charter.

And he stands alone. unshaven chin
He pressed his tie to his chest and, crouching deeply,
From there, he conducts his note without finishing
Under the rattling of glass, the trembling of even the walls ...

Hearing this "choir" of so many "musicians"
It is easy to form an opinion about the whole village,
In the course without using special talents at all:
Decent in size, houses fairly in it!

But our poor hero is wet and cold
I only thought about the bed, comfort and warmth!
It seemed that a century was already wandering in the darkness that had embraced
And there is no sun at all, having burned down, lies in the ashes ...

He was in such a hurry to end the annoying adventure,
What jumped out of the chaise, consider that on the go ...
For good reason, consider the exception -
Carelessness of actions ... it is easy to attract trouble ...

A woman came out to meet them. Similar to the first one.
"Relatives among themselves!" he noted to himself.
Walking easier, years younger...
He followed her and here they are in the hut.

Entering, he threw two casual glances around the room:
Was hung with wallpaper in stripes
And some pictures of birds close by,
Mirrors hung between the windows along the walls.

Behind each of the frames, resembling leaves,
Curled cunningly, laid down long ago
A pack of old cards, or stockings, or letters...
Without a principle of any meaning, it’s all the same ...

Wall clock in flowers on the dial,
And apart from nothing to notice it’s not possible -
It would be time for him to lie in bed for a long time ...
The night blinded his eyelashes like honey ...

A minute later, the owner appeared.
On the head of the cap, it seemed that floated ...
With a flannel around the neck - something insulated ...
She looked elderly ... she was like that ...

She is one of those hostesses, from a small landowner,
Who are all crying for a meager harvest,
Unprofitability in everything, when there is none, it seems ...
Listen carefully, don't mind...

They all bow their heads to one side for some reason,
Precise women in clothes, but for many years in a row
Money is collected, as if a vegetable from the beds,
In colorful bags in chests of drawers they store ...

Tselkoviki in one. Fifty dollars to others,
Quarters separately - why interfere with everything?
These piggy banks are lying, stuffed, tight ...
Happen, you climb into the chest of drawers - you won’t be able to find

Among night blouses, and thread hanks,
Not sewn salop, which is stored for that,
So that later, when needed urgently,
Concoct a skirt, dress ... let the outfit be unsightly,

And everything is better than those that burn out from the stove
When baking cakes with all sorts of things to taste ...
What is unlikely to happen: the hostess is not careless
And very careful! That materiala cous

Will go to the niece of her grand sister after death,
In the spiritual testament it will be written in the line
In a compartment with all sorts of rubbish, you take my word for it!
We met with similar at the eyes and at hand ...

But Chichikov now launched into an explanation,
Like, an unforeseen event bothered you,
Like, suddenly got lost, weather constraints
And that we ask for forgiveness, they say, at an inopportune hour ...

“Well, what is it? Nothing - the hostess answered -
When did the Lord bring you to me!
Confusion and blizzard... Eat to start...
It's time for the night ... how to cook? Question…"

The owner's words were interrupted by a hiss
So suspicious that even the guest shuddered,
As if scared. And you wouldn't be afraid
When would it seem that a handful of serpents appeared?

But, looking up, he immediately guessed:
It's time to beat their wall clock!
In which behind the hiss a wheezing sound rang out
And finally, straining, struck two hours,

With such a sound already, as if someone had thought of
With a swing to hit a broken pot with a stick ...
“And so every time? - our Chichikov thought -
Perhaps they invested too much impressions in them!

The clock, having alienated, behaved decently:
Their pendulum was beating again, as it should,
Right and left in their usual way,
Until the next fight, allowing you to forget ...

The clock distracted us from the topic of conversation,
What was going on between the hostess and the guest at that moment,
When she, embarrassed, said (here's a pretense!),
That until the morning there is no opportunity to eat here ...

“Thank you very much! Leave worry!
I don't need anything - just a bed!
Just take care - for sleep my device,
Yes, here's another: tell me how far away from

Sobakevich's estate? “And who is it, tell me!
There are no such people in our district, as I dare say!
“Ah, that's how! And Manilov? "Who indicate it!"
“The landowner, like the first ...” “They haven’t seen it, light!

In our places, such people have not been heard ... "
"What are there?" "Svinin and Pleshakov,
There is also Kanapatiev… Trepakin was named?
No, right? So, Trepakin, Harpakin and Bobrov!”

"Are all rich people?" "I can't say that it's very...
Twenty souls, thirty ... Up to a hundred, no more ... "
Well, Chichikov noted, he climbed into the wilderness in the middle of the night ...
"Is the city far away?" “Sixty miles! - in reply -

But still, I'm sorry that there is nothing to eat ...
But would you like, father, let them serve tea?
“Thank you, mother, but it will be much better
Lie down on my bed!" “If so, then do not be angry!

And in truth, that from the road, I will not fail to say,
You have a better rest now just a mile!
Fetinya! Listen, Fetinya! Bring you a feather bed
Cleaner pillows and sheets, don't be sorry...

After all, what time did the Lord send for something ...
All night the candle burned in front of His image ...
Ooh! You are my father! Yes, you are in the dirt with something ...
As the boar rolled around, everything was salted ... "

“Thanks to God, that only got salty!
I didn’t break off my arms and legs ... such a misfortune ... "
“Saints! Here are the passions ... The Lord, apparently, took pity ...
Shouldn't you rub your back with something then?

"No no! That is not necessary! Thanks, but what exactly
Then order something to a girl, one of the servants,
Dry my dress, and clean it urgently,
To put on in the morning and be ready to leave suddenly!

"Do you hear or not, Fetinya? - the hostess turned
To that woman who came with a feather bed before,
And managed to whip it so that the pen was spinning
Fountain or flood. She suddenly said, "Huh?"

“Take their caftan and underwear together right away
And dry it properly now before the fire,
Like a master to a dead man, with care, honor by honor,
And after grinding, but shake it out, so that in the afternoon

You could get dressed! "I'll do it, ma'am!"
Fetinya replied as she laid a sheet.
“The mistress was probably accommodating to the servants ...”
The guest thought for some reason, defining it like this ...

“Well, here’s your bed already ready!
Farewell for now, father! Is something needed?
Maybe scratch your heels or something else?
My dead man loved, he was eager before ... "

The guest again refused. "Then - good night!"
Having said all this, the hostess left.
He hastily undressed as much as he could, urine,
I gave all my harness to Fetinya. Carried away.

With great pleasure his eyes looked
On a fluffed bed, honored ...
Great craftswoman Fetinya in this matter-
I had to put up a chair to manage to lie down!

But just laid down, as he immediately fell
Significantly - to the floor ... almost fell ...
I quickly blew out the candle, did not nest for long,
Covered with a blanket. Slept in a moment...

Woke up another day already quite late
Probably from the fact that the sun through the window
It shone unbearably stubbornly and seriously,
Yes, the flies stuck around, dotting the canvas ...

One of them stubbornly for something climbed into the ear,
Another did not give rest to his lips,
And the third climbed in, forcing a sneeze deafly ...
It was here that I woke up, not that I myself ...

Looking around the room, now I'm convinced
That not only birds among the pictures, between them
A portrait of Kutuzov hung, next to him was
Painted like oil, unknown old man

In a uniform with cuffs, as they sewed
Under Pavel, perhaps, Petrovich? From relatives, you know ...
The clock, making a hiss (scare or tease?),
They struck exactly ten - enough, they say, to sleep!

A face peeked through the door and immediately disappeared ...
As if the hostess - flashed through my head.
The whole point was that looking, I saw:
Better to fall asleep, he undressed completely ...

But next to the bed there was already a dress,
Suitable for what you can wear.
Who completely left the embrace of Morpheus,
He decided for himself: it's time to get up!

Having dressed, he approached the wall between the windows,
To look in the mirror: everything is fine or how,
At the same time, he sneezed again, so much so that with a frisky lope
An Indian rooster jumped a step from the other side!

The window was low to the ground and even very ...
Jumping high, the rooster began to mutter
In a strange language ... apparently authorized:
We wish you hello from chickens to tell him!

To which our hero impolitely replied ...
Yes, what is there? Not impolite, but downright condescending!
Why, we don’t know, so, because he greeted him,
And what did you hear in response? Sorry, stupid...

And then I forgot, looking at the views,
What were in front of him literally outside the window,
Which looked, would not make offense,
But for sure, that in a chicken coop, moreover, plentiful!

This whole narrow courtyard is filled with every kind of bird,
Another domestic creature ... but the bird is not counted!
A rooster walked between them - it’s just right for them to be proud -
Luxurious measured step, master's look and footprint!

A pig with a family immediately fiddled in a pile of rubbish,
I ate a chicken, which I hardly understood ...
Clouds of flies swarmed over the rinds of the watermelon,
And then, behind the fence, potatoes, onions, beets ...

Trees were rarely seen in the garden,
Covered with nets from some birds, forty ...
Stuffed animals stood, as is customary in the village -
Protection against damage for a short summer period.

Where did he get it from? And judge for yourself:
On the roofs, the worn-out tess has been replaced everywhere,
The gates did not squint, carts, sledges are visible ...
"The village is not small!" our hero is surprised...

Thinking carefully, I decided to talk,
Get to know each other better, find trust ...
And looked through the crack at the door to make sure
That the hostess got up. How else to find out?

I saw that she was sitting at the tea table.
He entered there himself, putting on a cheerful look,
Glowing with contentment, he was extremely affectionate ...
"How did you rest, father?" - she's already talking.

She was better dressed, not like before, at night:
In a decent dark dress and not in a night cap,
On the neck, however, again one could see exactly
Something messed up. A smile on your face.

Chichikov replied to her, already sitting in a chair:
"Wonderful! Fine! How about you, for example?
"No way, dear father!" "Why? That's interesting…”
“Insomnia tortured ... Everything from head to toe

It hurt badly! Broken lower back
Yes, here's another, leg, imagine, already there is no urine ...
Such torment, you won’t dream in nightmares ... "
“It will pass! It will pass though! Look at that is not a trace!

“God grant it pass! I've already done some tweaks:
And she smeared it with pork fat and turpentine too ...
Yes, all sorts, father, I have rubbing ...
What are you going to drink tea with? With fruit? The taste is good!”

"And what? This is not stupid! Sip now fruit!
Reader! Have you noticed with what freedom he
Are you holding yourself now? In a completely new manner,
Not like Manilov, moreover, from all sides!

Here it is necessary to draw a conclusion, or, let's say, to admit,
That in Rus' we have a little secret
Or even an advantage over the same foreigner:
There are no equals in the world in the ability to address us!

How do they say, for example, with a millionaire?
Almost in the same voice and the same language
What about the petty huckster, tobacconist, broth maker,
A little mean in moderation, and then in the soul, secretly ...

We are not the same, we are completely different!
We have wise men, not a small number,
Who, if necessary, will sing and cry,
And they will overcome the sea, leaving the oar ...

With a landowner who has two hundred showers, for example,
They will not speak, as with the one where there is none,
And someone over three hundred is no longer the same as with the first ...
Walk on the ascending ... shades: hoo-hoo!

Imagine, in some distant state
There is, say, an office, there is also a ruler in it.
Among the subordinates he, look: the king on the kingdom,
Condemned to rule until the end of days!

From fear of him, which cannot be said ...
What nobility in his face you will see!
What is not there? It's hard to imagine -
Pick up a brush to paint with it!

Here, right Prometheus, a decisive word!
He looks out proudly - as he is, he looks like an eagle!
In a gait, he is in no hurry, as if floating on the waves,
A significant person at a significant table ...

But the same “eagle”, as soon as he was called to the authorities,
Such a "partridge" suddenly runs to his call,
That there is no urine to look: where did the swagger go?
They didn’t tremble before him as he trembles now ...

At a party where everyone is small,
Our "Prometheus" will stay with him all evening,
And a little higher and not to know this -
The suddenness of the transformation will suddenly become with him,

Which even Ovid is unable to come up with:
There will be fewer flies, a fly next to him - an elephant!
He was destroyed into a grain of sand, and became like it:
“Really, Ivan Petrovich? Oh no! Not him at all!

Ivan Petrovich is taller and fatter,
He won’t smile for that, bass, count like thunder ...
And this one is low, completely devoid of power,
The mosquito squeaks ... You come closer: he ...

“Eh! - say to yourself - So this is how you are arranged ... "
The Lord is here to judge everyone ... do not condemn ...
Let's return now to the heroes left behind,
What is the time for them to discuss?

We saw that Chichikov behaved differently:
Without ceremony at all, he took a cup from the table,
He splashed fruit into her ... And what does it all mean?
The demeanor was completely different...

Having taken a sip from a cup, he made such speeches:
“And your village, I see, is not bad!
And how many souls are there in it? She suddenly shrugged her shoulders.
“It will be under eighty ... I will not be afraid of sin

To say that times have come oh dashing:
In the previous year, such a poor harvest,
What God save! All these elements...
How they crossed, I don’t know, the edge is so close now ... "

“However, the men seem to be quite serviceable ...
The huts are covered, not frail, but strong!
Forgive me for God's sake, I forgot to ask about the main thing,
At night, he arrived, tired ... out of hand ...

Let me at least now hear the surname!
“The collegiate secretary Korobochka, the deceased was a husband!
"And the name and fatherland?" - Slightly lower your voice.
"Nastasia Petrovna!" “Well, you must! - he suddenly -

My mother's sister, can you imagine
That is, my own aunt, exactly what your name is!
“And what is your name? After all, you, tea, are an assessor?
“No, mother! - with a smile - I'm here on business!

“You are the shopper! How sorry I am now, right,
Cheaply for merchants, you know, I sold honey ...
And you, my father, would have done that thing right -
I would have bought more expensive ... Why didn’t you wait? ”

“But I wouldn’t buy it! I don’t need honey ...”
“What else then? Really that hemp?
Yes, twist, hemp is not enough ... They kicked, but not together ...
With half a pound of everything ... I’m guarding for the needs ... "

“No, my mother, I trade another merchant ...”
"Yes, what would it be?" "I'll tell you the time will come...
Answer me better, I'll lead another thought,
Have you had any deaths among the peasants?”

“Oh, father! But how! Died, it was:
Eighteen people! And what a people!
It also appeared, but it didn’t make any sense,
Such a small fry ... ugh, not a litter at all ...

The people are already dead - pay as if they were alive!
The assessor drove up - give it from the soul!
Here, too, is a flayer... How is he not afraid of God?
He won’t ask how they got it - take it and count it ...

Last week, another misfortune-misfortune:
Our blacksmith burned down, he even knew in the plumbing!
"Did you have a fire here?" “God saved from passion,
And that would be even worse ... no, he disappeared by himself ...

Something inside him caught fire!
Maybe you drank something? So the light went on
All turned black, like coal, all nature decayed ...
And now what should I do? There was no second...

And there was nothing to get out on… The blacksmith was very skillful!
Who's shoeing the horses? I don't know how to be?
“It’s God’s will for everything here!” - answered even sadly -
Give them to me!" "Whom do you give up?"

“Here are all those who died!” "How, reasoning sanely?"
“Yes, just like that, for nothing, or sell it, or what!
I will give money for them!” "I don't get it, really...
Are you going to dig out? Explain it all right!”

But Chichikov already saw: there was plenty of eco!
And in a few words explained in detail,
What, according to the revision tale, came out alive ...
Why would anyone know? Spent a lot of energy...

“What are they to you? the old woman asked again.
After all, they are dead ... ”- fear bulged his eyes ..
"Leave that to me!" answered very dryly.
She did not understand ... a tear covered her eyes ...

“Excuse me, I’ll add a few words here:
They are at a loss to you - to pay, as for the living!
I take them upon myself, than I will save you from the hassle,
I put fifteen rubles on top for all of them!

Hope it's clear now? "No! Right, I don't know
The hostess said - Forgive me, dear father,
But I didn't... I don't understand...
Again you will sigh sadly - how difficult it is to be alone!

After all, I have not yet sold the dead ... "
"Still would! It would be amazing if that happened!
Ile, maybe you decided that there is a lot of sense in them?
"No! I don’t think so… What do you need them for?

After all, that’s what makes it difficult that they don’t seem to exist ... "
“Well, the woman is strong-browed! - I thought to myself -
Listen, mother! Heed the advice
Regretfully I will say, in a friendly way, loving:

After all, you are ruined - not a joke fee!
How to bring in for a living! "Oh, don't tell me, father!
For another third week, that payment was made:
More than a hundred and fifty brought up and also not the end -

Again, it was necessary to oil the assessor ... "
“And I’m talking about the same, mother! And with the transfer of that
I will pay for all of them together at once,
The duties are on me, and you are already beyond the line ... "

The old woman considered. And so and so throwing,
It seemed that she understood that there was a benefit here ...
But the new thing hurts ... trade is wonderful ...
An unprecedented object ... no matter where you fit in ...

I was very afraid: it wouldn’t work out that they cheated ...
Where did this buyer suddenly come to her from?
Only God knows at night, in a storm?
Why would he be dead? Unheard of in the middle of the day...

“So what? Deal?" Again, you see, it rises ...
“Really, father, I don’t know ... After all, it didn’t happen to me
The dead to sell ... the living, then it happens -
Two girls to the archpriest ... He thanked - one

Napkins are woven by themselves!” "It's not about the living here -
I'm asking the dead!" “There would be no loss of some kind here ...
I'm afraid that no matter what deceit is in time,
Suddenly they cost more? They will suddenly give more expensive ... "

“Listen, mother! Eh, what kind!
What can they cost? Look, it's dust...
Take a worthless thing or no rags,
And they are all in the price ... How to explain in words?

Any even a rag will be taken even on paper
At the paper factory. Isn't it the same? Is not it so?
And where are the dead, have at least courage ...
What are they for? In what way to apply their trace?

“That’s right, it’s true! They don't need anything!
That's what worries that they are dead ... "
“Go ahead, deal with her here - he strained to himself -
Cursed old woman… she threw me into a fever…”

And, taking out a handkerchief, wiping sweat from his forehead,
I thought about what to do, what else to say to her ...
Everything seems to have tried, sorting through the brains,
Dubinogolovoy even dared to call names there ...

And, however, he was angry in vain, probably -
Another and state respectable person,
Such a box is perfect:
Kill something in the head, and you will not turn off forever!

And no matter how many explanations
Or arguments, for example, that everyone is clear as day,
Everything flies away, like a ball against the walls,
Do not get around, go around, like a stump in the middle of the road ...

And Chichichkov knew that, there were no discoveries in that ...
It didn’t go straight, I decided to go around:
“You, mother,” he said, “don’t you want to understand?
I ask the air, not the inanimate people!

They are no longer among us - you yourself admit ...
And I'll give you fifteen rubles for them!
See it in your hands! Where can you just find it?
You won’t find it on the street ... Respect for the years ...

Admit it now, how much did you sell honey?
"Twelve rubles a pood!" “Why would you lie now?
After all, there is no such price, they lied about it ... hardly ... "
“By God, I sold it!” “So collect that honey!

With worries, diligence spent six months!
Yes, fuss with bees, fed them in winter ...
And dead souls... what is their nature?
Only God's will, and not the works of herself ...

There is no effort on your part...
Only losses, only one damage, consider ...
And I will give you money for them ... now, and not after ...
Fifteen in banknotes in your hand turn over!

I had almost no doubt: the old woman would not resist!
Under the power of conviction will bend, finally ...
In vain did he deceive himself ... She spoke dully:
"You're right, don't be angry! Understand me, father!

It's better, you know, I'll wait a little...
Inexperience is a widow ... Ignorance in business ...
Merchants will come in large numbers ... suddenly I will sell out early ...
Let me apply to prices ... "" Stram, mother, and fear!

That's what you say? You would have listened!
Who will buy them? How to use them?
“Or maybe they’ll fit like clockwork in the household ...”
I entered with an objection, not knowing how to be ...

I looked at him almost with fear,
Wanting to know to hear his answer to that ...
"On the farm? Dead people? For spinning wheels, or something, for spinning
Or scare the sparrows into the garden, onto the pole?

“Oh, God, forgive me! - the old woman crossed her forehead -
What are all the passions you are talking about now ... "
“Where else would you put it? And yet, their grave,
The coffins and the bones themselves will remain with you!

After all, all this trade will only be on paper!”
The old woman thought again. He began to get nervous.
“Nastasia Petrovna? What will be in your thoughts?
“I won’t take everything away - what would your demand mean?

How to be here, I don’t understand ... Hemp, would you buy it, or what?
“What do I need that hemp for? Another time, maybe…”
"Do not want? Well, so what? Father, I will not bondage ... "
She said thoughtfully without looking up...

“Yes, what are you doing with the hemp? Why are you messing with her?
I ask you something else… What is your answer?”
“The goods are painfully strange, but you keep pestering ...
Absolutely, after all, unprecedented, unheard of, my light ... "

Here Chichikov in his hearts, grabbing a chair on the floor,
Out of all the limits of patience left ...
And he promised her the devil, twitching his cheekbone,
Since I didn’t find more strength to restrain ...

Hearing about the devil, everything turned white strangely:
"Why did you remember him? No need to ... God be with him!
The other day, consider, the night I dreamed of the accursed,
Such, my father, ugly in his appearance -

The horns are longer than those of a bull ... That, apparently, is a punishment
The Lord sent for praying at night,
I decided to take up fortune-telling on the cards,
What I will not do in the future, you will believe, having been born ... "

“I’ll believe it, I’ll believe it ... I’m surprised at another:
How do you not dream of them at night for dozens?
I wanted to help from the heart, touching my old age,
After all, I see how you are fighting ... a tear hurries to your eyes ...

But perish you with the whole village together!”
“Why would you rot such zabrans now?”
“Yes, you won’t find a word how to say in honor:
You don’t want to offend, but you say everything ...

As all the same, the mongrel that reclines in the hay:
She doesn’t eat it herself, but she won’t give it to others either ...
And I wanted to help than to change,
I would buy contracts, in terms of that much ... "

Here he lied, of course, but, it seems, successfully:
Treasury contracts acted suddenly
From an unexpected side, but in favor, definitely
It looks like it will work out by closing the chain in a circle!

“What are you so angry about? Why would? -
A tear was heard in Korobochkin's voice -
If I knew that you are hot, I would not have argued for a long time ... "
“Well, now get angry! We can't get angry...

And why would you, right? Deal, I'll tell you straight,
Not worth an eggshell at all!
Why, it is not clear, you are so stubborn with me?
Again, no offense, but almost stupid ... "

“Now I’m ready to give them for fifteen!
But just don't forget to look at the contracts!
It happens suddenly to take flour, or to try hard in cereals,
Cattle what a bat, then come straight to me!

Do not make offense in anything ... "" Yes, what are you? I don't hate -
He spoke in response. He wiped off all the sweat,
That flowed into three streams - There is in the city, I foresee,
Acquaintance, what is it? “But how? Archpriest!

His son seems to be serving in his ward ...
I will write to him to help him.
When making a fortress. I think it will do!"
“This is going to be nice!” - he said to her.

“Look, what a secretive one: not a word about contracts!
It would be nice to bring something here,
To take everything to the treasury at once and in a row!
Something needs to be appeased ... but with what? Trouble...

Go tell Fetinya to bake pancakes-
There was dough from the previous day...
And so that the pie is bent with an egg! That's for sure
That they gloriously bend that pie with me!

And with this thought she went out - to give orders,
And Chichikov went into the living room alone,
Where he slept the night before: start preparations.
Everything is there, as it should, tidied up for a long time and well.

There is a table in front of the sofa. Got my box
I put it on the tabletop. Sat down to take a breath…
Tired of bickering, my heart was beating loudly ...
Get it over with and get on the road!

How I visited the river - from the heels to the ear
Covered with sticky moisture, wet all over, sweaty:
“Ek, I died like a damned old woman ...”
He turned the key that appeared in the box.

I thought from something that is among you, perhaps
Who would like to look into it now,
Then, to see the device: simple-difficult?
I can help with that! So, reader, let's go!

In the center, in the middle, there was clearly a soap dish,
Five or six razor bars are already behind her,
Square nook: with ink bottle,
Behind him is another one: a sandbox at the bottom ...

And between them is somehow hollowed out by a boat
For feathers, sealing wax, what is more authentic.
More partitions under the lid with brackets,
Among them are completely open with collected among the days:

Business tickets or even theater tickets,
Some other things that are kept in memory
Notes, notes not very special ...
The listings can go on and on...

Her entire upper drawer with everything that was called,
Pulled out of the groove, under it already to the bottom
Filled with paper. Hidden in one side
Box for money that is not visible to the eye

And so always hastily moved back,
What was impossible to determine at a glance
What is the amount of money that was inside her...
A wise decision: why anger with prosperity?

This time, however, he did not take it -
Got the cash for the deal in advance.
Opening his box, he did something completely different:
I sat, repaired a pen, then began to write with it ...

But then the hostess came in. Noticing the box
She exclaimed with delight: “This box is good!
Did you buy tea in Moscow?” "In Moscow!" - answered that.
“And I knew right away what you would find only there!

Here the third year has gone, my sister is from there
Boots brought for the kids with fur!
Believe me, so warm, do not approach a cold!
And demolition cannot be seen, what is below, what is above!

Ahti, dear father! How emblematic I see!
And in fact, it’s true: there are a lot of them out there.
“Give me a leaf! Tea, I won’t offend you with a request?
He undertook to explain the meaning of the sheets,

That this paper is only suitable for one:
For the commission of bills of sale, her destiny ...
But then he gave a piece of paper - no reason to be angry,
He wrote the letter himself. Then with a question to her:

“Here, put your signature and imagine the list!”
As a memento, the landowner, they say, did not keep lists ...
I knew everyone by heart! Write what? Dismiss!
He moved only his head - your deeds are wonderful ...

I wrote under dictation, but often their names
Another time they repeated, consider that by syllables -
So unaccustomed to hearing they seemed - were,
Although quite common in the area...

Who would not be surprised by this combination:
Disrespect-Trough - he is Peter Savelyev?
Let's leave immediately laughter, as well as lamentations -
He's not here with us, sadly, he's dead...

Another was attached to the name of the nickname:
What will you say - provide a makeweight!
And without it you will not meet understanding at all ...
Brick Cow you say - it's clear who we are talking about!

When I finished writing, I immediately heard
Inhaling the air with a wonderful aroma
Something hot in oil! Everything under the roof
Filled with them! There is a desire and a look ...

“But I humbly ask that God sent to taste!”
The hostess said here, calling him to the table.
He looked around quickly: "It would be nice to dine!" -
Flashed in my head. Got up and went.

Lunch is already served! Plates, pots...
Mushrooms in sour cream and cous butter shangs,
And pies and pies, ruddy pancakes,
Pancakes of quick thinkers with spicy taste!

With a broth with an onion, with shots, with poppy seeds,
With pripekoy with cottage cheese and what not to make out!
"And here's an egg pie!" - shiny, like varnish
Covered for beauty! Didn't know what to take...

The proposed pie is now moved to itself,
Tasted half, "Excellent!" - praised
I ate with pleasure, did not fail to note,
And after the torment with the deal, the cake was doubly sweet!

“And here are some more pancakes!” The hostess stepped up.
In response to this, the guest rolled three pieces at once
And he put it into a bowl of butter (pretty melted!)
From there, right into your mouth - it was a lot to eat!

Then three more times he tried on pancakes:
“I’ll tell you openly, pancakes are so delicious,
What I can’t remember, where else I managed
Eat so many of them! Great pancakes!"

“Yes, I already know it! They know how to do it!
Yes, the trouble happened that the harvest is bad ...
Flour is not adventurous, let the pastries be elegant ...
Where are you in such a hurry? Take a break…”

After saluting the pancakes, he turned to the hostess:
“You, mother, tell me, let them prepare the britzka!”
She performed immediately: “Look how hurried!
More hot pancakes! “It's time! It's time for me to go!"

"So you, dear father, remember about the contracts!"
“How can you? I won't forget!" - answered in the passage.
She, accompanying, cast her glances:
“And do you buy lard?” "Certainly! In the villages!

But only much later!” "About the Christmas time will already be!"
"I'll buy it, I'll buy it! But how? And - no matter how much you offer!
“Or maybe bird feathers? In Filippov, the fast will remain!
"Wonderful! Fine!" “In, you see, in vain in a hurry -

No chaise! Not ready!" “I’ll warm up the freak!
Tell me how can we get out? How to know the way?
“It’s hard to say: there are so many twists and turns…
Is it possible to give a girl to show correctly ...

After all, you, I have tea, do you have a place on the goats?
“Well, why not? There will be - my Selifan is not fat!
“But don’t bring it, as in the past year
The merchants deceived…” “Why should I deceive?”

Believing completely, dissipated attention,
Already as there is no one nearby, no longer up to him ...
She examined her yard with every diligence,
As if for the first time - it's all about:

Suddenly she fixed her eyes on the housekeeper from something,
She dragged her brother with honey somewhere ...
Then on the peasant who flashed through the gate ...
Smiling and little by little she entered the household again ...

But why, tell me, now do it?
Manilova, Korobochka ... Economical or not ...
Not that in the world is wonderfully arranged, I confess:
Fun becomes sadness when you delay the trail

For a long time you stagnate - this will be an example,
Only God knows what's going on...
Perhaps you will think: is it true that landowner
Standing so low on the stairs, whose rise

Takes humanity beyond the limits of perfection?
How big is the gap between her?
And that sister of hers, who lives in the midst of bliss
In the homes of the aristocracy now, between these days?

Among the fragrant stairs with shining brass,
The most precious woods and many carpets,
Yawning over a book - a novel or gum,
With capricious reasoning, how harsh the world is now ...

With hot anticipation of a visit somewhere,
Where will her field shine (not everyone could!),
The idea to express what, seriously, is not beaten,
Any facts that teaches by heart!

Which then, as according to the laws of fashion,
The whole town will be occupied for a whole week!
But it will be a thought in a completely different way -
Do not expect that you will hear in it what they breathe here ...

Not at all about what is in the house and the estate,
Tangled affairs thanks to the fact
That they didn’t know how to run a household, but about
From France, for example, distant in mind ...

What direction did Catholicism take fashionable?
When will there be another coup?
We're past them now! Why do we need a barren world?
Why discuss it, stand at those gates?

But before we leave, let's add a remark:
It happens often among these empty ones,
Merry and carefree will suddenly arise by chance
A wonderful jet and qualities of something else!

However, the laughter did not stop and did not leave
The face of that completely, but has already become different,
Similar to their laughter, pretending to be cold,
And the light inside went out and the voice became deaf ...

“And here is the chaise! - our hero shouted noisily,
Seeing his crew, he drove up to the porch -
Why are you taking so long? Got drunk, is it mindless?
Hops not weathered? But Selifan was silent...

“Now farewell, mother! Where is your conductor?
"Hey Pelagia! Do you hear? Come on, get over here!"
A girl approached them, about ten years old, a little older,
In homemade paint, barefoot, as always ...

Following her, Chichikov stood on the step with his foot,
Having warped the chaise now on the right side ...
He fiddled for a while, sitting down a little,
Quite ready for the road, I was able to say aloud:

"A! Well, that's good! It's time to touch!
Farewell now, mother!" Before them again the path.
Today Selifan looked very stern,
What happened every time when the essence is guilty ...

I cleaned all three horses in advance,
The clamp of one of them, which was previously torn,
Now sewn skillfully, with every diligence!
He was fairly silent and zealous in his work.

Whipped the horses without speech
Into science, as usual, although Chubary was waiting
And he was not even averse to listening to teachings,
Even if it’s abusive, because I already knew:

In such a mood, the reins were waiting for affection,
Weakly - lazily he held them in his hands ...
And the whip on top of the back walked only for warning ...
Now everything is different. The horse neighed out of resentment ...

But from gloomy lips this time everyone hears
Offensive, unpleasant, heavy words:
"Yawn, yawn, crow!" - excellent malice breathe
All these exclamations and a whip like a mace ...

Accustomed to a completely different treatment,
Bay and Assessor could not understand everything
Why would it suddenly? They were indignant,
There was discontent. The charioteer would heed that ...

It's like they changed it: I forgot the power words,
With which he often awarded two of those.
I never once said "dear", "respectable" ...
From such resentment, the bay neighed softly ...

Chubary, in response to the blows received
On the full and wide parts of his back,
I thought about it like this "makar":
“Ek, it blew it! Perhaps evil evil ...

Probably, he will not be mistaken, where he knows exactly where it hurts.
Not just for wit, it inadvertently whips,
Whenever it is, it’s understandable ... Anyone understands!
And he, go ahead, will overflow under his belly on purpose ... "

Here the coachman interrupted all these thoughts,
The guide girl asked a dry question:
"To the right, or what, will it be?" - and there is no shadow of a doubt,
With a whip somewhere to the right, I saw a fork ...

"No no! I will show!" - answered the girl.
"Where? As he got closer, he asked her again.
“Get out there now!” - flying hand
Doubt confirmed. Just looked at her:

"Oh you! - Said sadly - Doesn't differ at all
Where is the right, and where is the left ... ”And again he fell silent ...
We turned right. There the same dirt meets
Although the day was good, but who noticed?

The past rain kneaded the clay so sticky-viscous,
That poods are already hanging on the wheels of the britzka ...
Adhered like felt, it will not be easy to throw off ...
Consider that they have been roaming around here for three hours already ...

Without Pelageya, one cannot get out at all -
Roads in all directions, like crayfish from a bag ...
But she knew the way: “Hey, uncle, get ready -
There is a pole, see? - looking out from under the silence ...

"What kind of building is there?" "Tavern, for sure..."
"Well? Now we are on our own, go home!”
Stopped the horses without hassle and instantly,
He helped the girl to get off, shaking her head ...

And Chichikov, taking out a bargaining chip,
He gave her a copper penny: “Hold on for your work!”
Satisfied, she took it, bowing at the same time
And wandered through the mud, leading home traces ...