Nicolai Gogol - The Inspector-General

KHLESTAKOV. It's only in the capital that you find bon-ton and not a lot of provincial lubbers. What is your opinion? Isn't that so?

POSTMASTER. Quite so. (Aside.) He isn't a bit proud. He inquires about everything.

KHLESTAKOV. And yet you'll admit that one can live happily in a little town.

POSTMASTER. Quite so.

KHLESTAKOV. In my opinion what you want is this —you want people to respect you and to love you sincerely. Isn't that so?

POSTMASTER. Exactly.

KHLESTAKOV. I'm glad you agree with me. Of course, they call me queer. But that's the kind of character I am. (Looking him in the face and talking to himself.) I think I'll ask this postmaster for a loan. (Aloud.) A strange accident happened to me and I ran out of cash on the road. Can you lend me three hundred rubles?

POSTMASTER. Of course. I shall esteem it a piece of great good fortune. I am ready to serve you with all my heart.

KHLESTAKOV. Thank you very much. I must say, i hate like the devil to deny myself on the road. And why should I? Isn't that so?

POSTMASTER. Quite so. (Rises, draws himself up, with his sword in his hand.) I'll not venture to disturb you any more. Would you care to make any remarks about the post office administration?

KHLESTAKOV. No, nothing.

The Postmaster bows and goes out.

KHLESTAKOV (lighting a cigar). I t seems to me the Postmaster is a fine fellow, too. He's certainly obliging. I like people like that.

Khlestakov and Luka Lukich, who is practically pushed in on the stage. A voice behind him is heard saying nearly aloud, "Don't be chickenhearted."

LUKA (drawing himself up, trembling, with his hand on his sword). I have the honor to present myself— School Inspector, Titular Councilor Khlopov.

KHLESTAKOV. I'm glad to see you. Take a seat, take a seat. Will you have a cigar? (Offers him a cigar.)

LUKA (to himself, hesitating). T here now! That's something I hadn't anticipated. To take or not to take?

KHLESTAKOV. Take it, take it. It's a pretty good cigar. Of course not what you get in St. Petersburg. There I used to smoke twenty-five cent cigars. You feel like kissing yourself after having smoked one of them. Here, light it. (Hands him a candle.)

Luka Lukich tries to light the cigar shaking all over.

KHLESTAKOV. Not that end, the other.

LUKA (drops the cigar from fright, spits and shakes his hands. Aside). C onfound it! My damned timidity has ruined me!

KHLESTAKOV. I see you are not a lover of cigars. I confess smoking is my weakness—smoking and the fair sex. Not for the life of me can I remain indifferent to the fair sex. How about you? Which do you like more, brunettes or blondes?

Luka Lukich remains silent, at a complete loss what to say.

KHLESTAKOV. Tell me frankly, brunettes or blondes?

LUKA. I don't dare to know.

KHLESTAKOV. No, no, don't evade. I'm bound to know your taste.

LUKA. I venture to report to you— (Aside.) I don't know what I'm saying.

KHLESTAKOV. Ah, you don't want to say. I suppose some little brunette or other has cast a spell over you. Confess, she has, hasn't she?

Luka Lukich remains silent.

KHLESTAKOV. Ah, you're blushing. You see. Why don't you speak?

LUKA. I'm scared, your hon—high—ex— (Aside.) Done for! My confounded tongue has undone me!

KHLESTAKOV. You're scared? There is something awe-inspiring in my eyes, isn't there? At least I know not a single woman can resist them. Isn't that so?

LUKA. Exactly.

KHLESTAKOV. A strange thing happened to me on the road. I ran entirely out of cash. Can you lend me three hundred rubles?

LUKA (clutching his pockets. Aside). A fine business if I haven't got the money! I have! I have! (Takes out the bills and gives them to him, trembling.)

KHLESTAKOV. Thank you very much.

LUKA (drawing himself up, with his hand on his sword). I will not venture to disturb you with my presence any longer.

KHLESTAKOV. Good-by.

LUKA (dashes out almost at a run, saying aside.) Well, thank the Lord! Maybe he won't inspect the schools.

Khlestakov and Artemy Filippovich.

ARTEMY (enters and draws himself up, his hand on his sword). I have the honor to present myself— Superintendent of Charities, Court Councilor Zemlianika.

KHLESTAKOV. Howdeedo? Please sit down.

ARTEMY. I had the honor of receiving you and personally conducting you through the philanthropic institutions committed to my care.

KHLESTAKOV. Oh, yes, i remember. You treated me to a dandy lunch.

ARTEMY. I am glad to do all i can in behalf of my country.

KHLESTAKOV. I admit, my weakness is a good cuisine.— tell me, please, won't you—it seems to me you were a little shorter yesterday, weren't you?

ARTEMY. Quite possible. (After a pause.) I may say I spare myself no pains and perform the duties of my office with the utmost zeal. (Draws his chair closer and speaks in a lowered tone.) There's the postmaster, for example, he does absolutely nothing. Everything is in a fearful state of neglect. The mail is held up. Investigate for yourself, if you please, and you will see. The Judge, too, the man who was here just now, does nothing but hunt hares, and he keeps his dogs in the court rooms, and his conduct, if I must confess—and for the benefit of the fatherland, I must confess, though he is my relative and friend—his conduct is in the highest degree reprehensible. There is a squire here by the name of Dobchinsky, whom you were pleased to see. Well, the moment Dobchinsky leaves the house, the Judge is there with Dobchinsky's wife. I can swear to it. You just take a look at the children. Not one of them resembles Dobchinsky. All of them, even the little girl, are the very image of the Judge.

KHLESTAKOV. You don't say so. I never imagined it.

ARTEMY. Then take the school inspector here. I don't know how the government could have entrusted him with such an office. He's worse than a Jacobin freethinker, and he instils such pernicious ideas into the minds of the young that I can hardly describe it. Hadn't I better put it all down on paper, if you so order?

KHLESTAKOV. Very well, why not? I should like it very much. I like to kill the weary hours reading something amusing, you know. What is your name? I keep forgetting.

ARTEMY. Zemlianika.

KHLESTAKOV. Oh, yes, Zemlianika. Tell me, Mr. Zemlianika, have you any children?

ARTEMY. Of course. Five. Two are already grown up.

KHLESTAKOV. You don't say! Grown up! And how are they—how are they—a—a?

ARTEMY. You mean that you deign to ask what their names are?

KHLESTAKOV. Yes, yes, what are their names?