Read The Inspector-General Page 10


  POSTMASTER. No, read it all. Everything so far could be read.

  ALL. Give him the letter, Artemy Filippovich, give it to him. (To Korobkin.) You read it.

  ARTEMY. Very well. (Gives up the letter.) Here it is. (Covers a part of it with his finger.) Read from here on. (All press him.)

  POSTMASTER. Read it all, nonsense, read it all.

  KOROBKIN (reading). "The Superintendent of Charities, Zemlianika, is a regular pig in a cap."

  ARTEMY (to the audience). Not a bit witty. A pig in a cap! Have you ever seen a pig wear a cap?

  KOROBKIN (continues reading). "The School Inspector reeks of onions."

  LUKA (to the audience). Upon my word, I never put an onion to my mouth.

  AMMOS (aside). Thank God, there's nothing about me in it.

  KOROBKIN (continues reading). "The Judge—"

  AMMOS. There! (Aloud.) Ladies and gentlemen, I think the letter is far too long. To the devil with it! Why should we go on reading such trash?

  LUKA. No.

  POSTMASTER. No, go on.

  ARTEMY. Go on reading.

  KOROBKIN. "The Judge, Liapkin-Tiapkin, is extremely mauvais ton." (He stops.) That must be a French word.

  AMMOS. The devil knows what it means. It wouldn't be so bad if all it means is "cheat." But it may mean something worse.

  KOROBKIN (continues reading). "However, the people are hospitable and kindhearted. Farewell, my dear Triapichkin. I want to follow your example and take up literature. It's tiresome to live this way, old boy. One wants food for the mind, after all. I see I must engage in something lofty. Address me: Village of Podkatilovka in the Government of Saratov." (Turns the letter and reads the address.) "Mr. Ivan Vasilyevich Triapichkin, St. Petersburg, Pochtamtskaya Street, House Number 97, Courtyard, third floor, right."

  A LADY. What an unexpected rebuke!

  GOVERNOR. He has cut my throat and cut it for good. I'm done for, completely done for. I see nothing. All I see are pigs' snouts instead of faces, and nothing more. Catch him, catch him! (Waves his hand.)

  POSTMASTER. Catch him! How? As if on purpose, I told the overseer to give him the best coach and three. The devil prompted me to give the order.

  KOROBKIN'S WIFE. Here's a pretty mess.

  AMMOS. Confound it, he borrowed three hundred rubles from me.

  ARTEMY. He borrowed three hundred from me, too.

  POSTMASTER (sighing). And from me, too.

  BOBCHINSKY. And sixty-five from me and Piotr Ivanovich.

  AMMOS (throwing up his hands in perplexity). How's that, gentlemen? Really, how could we have been so off our guard?

  GOVERNOR (beating his forehead). How could I, how could I, old fool? I've grown childish, stupid mule. I have been in the service thirty years. Not one merchant, not one contractor has been able to impose on me. I have over-reached one swindler after another. I have caught crooks and sharpers that were ready to rob the whole world. I have fooled three governor-generals. As for governor-generals, (with a wave of his hand) it is not even worth talking about them.

  ANNA. But how is it possible, Antosha? He's engaged to Mashenka.

  GOVERNOR (in a rage). Engaged! Rats! Fiddlesticks! So much for your engagement! Thrusts her engagement at me now! (In a frenzy.) Here, look at me! Look at me, the whole world, the whole of Christendom. See what a fool the governor was made of. Out upon him, the fool, the old scoundrel! (Shakes his fist at himself.) Oh, you fat-nose! To take an icicle, a rag for a personage of rank! Now his coach bells are jingling all along the road. He is publishing the story to the whole world. Not only will you be made a laughing-stock of, but some scribbler, some ink-splasher will put you into a comedy. There's the horrid sting. He won't spare either rank or station. And everybody will grin and clap his hands. What are you laughing at? You are laughing at yourself, oh you! (Stamps his feet.) I would give it to all those ink-splashers! You scribblers, damned liberals, devil's brood! I would tie you all up in a bundle, I would grind you into meal, and give it to the devil. (Shakes his fist and stamps his heel on the floor. After a brief silence.) I can't come to myself. It's really true, whom the gods want to punish they first make mad. In what did that nincompoop resemble an inspector-general? In nothing, not even half the little finger of an inspector-general. And all of a sudden everybody is going about saying, "Inspector-general, inspector-general." Who was the first to say it? Tell me.

  ARTEMY (throwing up his hands). I couldn't tell how it happened if I had to die for it. It is just as if a mist had clouded our brains. The devil has confounded us.

  AMMOS. Who was the first to say it? These two here, this noble pair. (Pointing to Dobchinsky and Bobchinsky.)

  BOBCHINSKY. So help me God, not I. I didn't even think of it.

  DOBCHINSKY. I didn't say a thing, not a thing.

  ARTEMY. Of course you did.

  LUKA. Certainly. You came running here from the inn like madmen. "He's come, he's come. He doesn't pay." Found a rare bird!

  GOVERNOR. Of course it was you. Town gossips, damned liars!

  ARTEMY. The devil take you with your inspector-general and your tattle.

  GOVERNOR. You run about the city, bother everybody, confounded chatterboxes. You spread gossip, you short-tailed magpies, you!

  AMMOS. Damned bunglers!

  LUKA. Simpletons.

  ARTEMY. Pot-bellied mushrooms!

  All crowd around them.

  BOBCHINSKY. Upon my word, it wasn't I. It was Piotr Ivanovich.

  DOBCHINSKY. No, Piotr Ivanovich, you were the first.

  BOBCHINSKY. No, no. You were the first.

  Last Scene

  The same and a Gendarme.

  GENDARME. An official from St. Petersburg sent by imperial order has arrived, and wants to see you all at once. He is stopping at the inn.

  All are struck as by a thunderbolt. A cry of amazement bursts from the ladies simultaneously. The whole group suddenly shifts positions and remains standing as if petrified.

  Silent Scene

  The Governor stands in the center rigid as a post, with outstretched hands and head thrown backward. On his right are his wife and daughter straining toward him. Back of them the Postmaster, turned toward the audience, metamorphosed into a question mark. Next to him, at the edge of the group, three lady guests leaning on each other, with a most satirical expression on their faces directed straight at the Governor's family. To the left of the Governor is Zemlianika, his head to one side as if listening. Behind him is the Judge with outspread hands almost crouching on the ground and pursing his lips as if to whistle or say: "A nice pickle we're in!" Next to him is Korobkin, turned toward the audience, with eyes screwed up and making a venomous gesture at the Governor. Next to him, at the edge of the group, are Dobchinsky and Bobchinsky, gesticulating at each other, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. The other guests remain standing stiff. The whole group retain the same position of rigidity for almost a minute and a half. The curtain falls.

  * * *

 


 

  Nikolai Gogol, The Inspector-General

 


 

 
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