home-outdoor stairs-Retelling of chapter 2 dead souls volume 1. A brief retelling of the "dead souls" by chapter

Retelling of chapter 2 dead souls volume 1. A brief retelling of the "dead souls" by chapter

At the gates of the hotel in the provincial town of NN, a rather beautiful spring-loaded small britzka drove in, in which bachelors ride: retired lieutenant colonels, staff captains, landowners with about a hundred souls of peasants - in a word, all those who are called gentlemen of the middle class. In the britzka sat a gentleman, not handsome, but not bad-looking either, neither too fat nor too thin; one cannot say that he is old, but it is not so that he is too young either. His entry made absolutely no noise in the city and was not accompanied by anything special; only two Russian peasants, standing at the door of the tavern opposite the hotel, made some remarks, which, however, referred more to the carriage than to the person sitting in it. “You see,” one said to the other, “what a wheel! what do you think, will that wheel, if it happens, reach Moscow or not?” "He'll get there," replied the other. “But I don’t think he will reach Kazan?” “He won’t get to Kazan,” answered another. This conversation ended. Moreover, when the britzka drove up to the hotel, a young man met in white kanifas trousers, very narrow and short, in a tailcoat with attempts on fashion, from under which was visible a shirt-front, fastened with a Tula pin with a bronze pistol. The young man turned back, looked at the carriage, held his cap, which was almost blown off by the wind, and went on his way. When the carriage drove into the yard, the gentleman was greeted by a tavern servant, or floor, as they are called in Russian taverns, lively and fidgety to such an extent that it was even impossible to see what kind of face he had. He ran out quickly, with a napkin in his hand, all long and in a long denim frock coat with a back almost at the very back of his head, shook his hair and quickly led the gentleman up the entire wooden gallery to show the peace God had sent him. The rest was of a certain kind, for the hotel was also of a certain kind, that is, just like hotels in provincial towns, where for two rubles a day travelers get a quiet room with cockroaches peeping out like prunes from all corners, and a door to the next door. a room, always cluttered with a chest of drawers, where a neighbor settles down, a silent and calm person, but extremely curious, interested in knowing all the details of the traveler. The outer facade of the hotel corresponded to its interior: it was very long, two stories high; the lower one was not chiselled and remained in dark red bricks, darkened even more by the dashing weather changes and already dirty in themselves; the upper one was painted with eternal yellow paint; below were benches with collars, ropes and bagels. In the coal of these shops, or, better, in the window, there was a sbitennik with a samovar made of red copper and a face as red as the samovar, so that from a distance one might think that there were two samovars in the window, if one samovar was not with jet-black beard. While the visiting gentleman was inspecting his room, his belongings were brought in: first of all, a suitcase made of white leather, somewhat worn, showing that it was not the first time on the road. The suitcase was brought in by the coachman Selifan, a short man in a sheepskin coat, and the footman Petrushka, a fellow of about thirty, in a spacious second-hand frock coat, as can be seen from the master's shoulder, the fellow is a little stern in his eyes, with very large lips and nose. Following the suitcase was brought in a small mahogany chest lined with Karelian birch, shoe lasts, and a fried chicken wrapped in blue paper. When all this was brought in, the coachman Selifan went to the stable to mess about with the horses, and the footman Petrushka began to settle down in a small front, very dark kennel, where he had already managed to drag his overcoat and, along with it, some kind of his own smell, which was communicated to the brought followed by a sack with various footmen's toilets. In this kennel he fixed a narrow three-legged bed against the wall, covering it with a small semblance of a mattress, dead and flat as a pancake, and perhaps as greasy as a pancake, which he managed to extort from the innkeeper. While the servants were managing and fussing, the master went to the common room. What these common halls are - every passing person knows very well: the same walls, painted with oil paint, darkened at the top from pipe smoke and stained from below with the backs of various travelers, and even more native merchants, for merchants on trading days came here on their own - a pole and on their own -this is to drink their famous pair of tea; the same sooty ceiling; the same smoked chandelier with many hanging pieces of glass that jumped and tinkled every time the floorman ran over the worn oilcloths, waving smartly at the tray, on which sat the same abyss of teacups, like birds on the seashore; the same wall-to-wall paintings, painted with oil paints - in a word, everything is the same as everywhere else; the only difference is that in one picture there was a nymph with such huge breasts as the reader has probably never seen. A similar play of nature, however, happens in various historical paintings, it is not known at what time, from where and by whom they were brought to us in Russia, sometimes even by our nobles, art lovers who bought them in Italy on the advice of the couriers who brought them. The gentleman threw off his cap and unwound from his neck a woolen, rainbow-colored scarf, which the wife prepares with her own hands for the married, providing decent instructions on how to wrap up, and for the unmarried - I probably can’t say who makes them, God knows them, I never wore such scarves . Having unwound the scarf, the gentleman ordered dinner to be served. In the meantime, various dishes usual in taverns were served to him, such as: cabbage soup with a puff pastry, specially saved for passing through for several weeks, brains with peas, sausages with cabbage, fried poulard, pickled cucumber and eternal puff pastry, always ready for service. ; while all this was served to him, both warmed up and simply cold, he forced the servant, or the servant, to tell all sorts of nonsense about who kept the tavern before and who now, and how much income they give, and whether their owner is a big scoundrel; to which the sexual, as usual, answered: "Oh, big, sir, swindler." As in enlightened Europe, so in enlightened Russia there are now quite a lot of respectable people who, without that, cannot eat in a tavern, so as not to talk with a servant, and sometimes even play a funny joke on him. However, the newcomer did not ask all empty questions; he asked with extreme precision who was the governor in the city, who was the chairman of the chamber, who was the prosecutor - in a word, he did not miss a single significant official; but with even greater accuracy, if not even with participation, he asked about all the significant landowners: how many people have the souls of peasants, how far they live from the city, even what character and how often they come to the city; he asked carefully about the state of the region: were there any diseases in their province - epidemic fevers, any murderous fevers, smallpox, and the like, and everything was so detailed and with such accuracy that showed more than one simple curiosity. In his receptions, the gentleman had something solid and blew his nose extremely loudly. It is not known how he did it, but only his nose sounded like a pipe. This apparently completely innocent dignity, however, gained him a lot of respect from the tavern servant, so that every time he heard this sound, he tossed his hair, straightened himself more respectfully and, bending his head from on high, asked: it is not necessary what? After dinner, the gentleman drank a cup of coffee and sat down on the sofa, placing a pillow behind his back, which in Russian taverns is stuffed with something extremely similar to brick and cobblestone instead of elastic wool. Then he began to yawn and ordered to be taken to his room, where, lying down, he fell asleep for two hours. Having rested, he wrote on a piece of paper, at the request of the tavern servant, the rank, name and surname for the message to the right place, to the police. On a piece of paper, the floorman, going down the stairs, read the following from the warehouses: "College adviser Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov, landowner, according to his needs." When the officer was still sorting through the note, Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov himself went to see the city, which he seemed to be satisfied with, for he found that the city was in no way inferior to other provincial cities: the yellow paint on the stone houses was strongly striking in the eyes and the gray was modestly darkening. on wooden ones. The houses were one, two and one and a half stories high, with an eternal mezzanine, very beautiful, according to provincial architects. In places, these houses seemed lost among the wide, field-like streets and endless wooden fences; in some places they crowded together, and here there was noticeably more movement of the people and liveliness. There were signs almost washed away by the rain with pretzels and boots, in some places with painted blue trousers and the signature of some Arshavian tailor; where is the store with caps, caps and the inscription: "Foreigner Vasily Fedorov"; where a billiards table was drawn with two players in tailcoats, in which guests at our theaters dress when they enter the stage in the last act. The players were depicted with aiming cues, arms slightly turned back and oblique legs, which had just made an entreche in the air. Underneath it was written: "And here is the establishment." Here and there, just outside, there were tables with nuts, soap, and gingerbread that looked like soap; where is a tavern with a painted fat fish and a fork stuck in it. Most often, the darkened double-headed state eagles were noticeable, which have now been replaced by a laconic inscription: "Drinking House". The pavement was bad everywhere. He also looked into the city garden, which consisted of thin trees, badly taken, with props below, in the form of triangles, very beautifully painted with green oil paint. However, although these trees were no taller than reeds, it was said about them in the newspapers when describing the illumination, that “our city was decorated, thanks to the care of the civil ruler, with a garden consisting of shady, broad-branched trees, giving coolness on a hot day,” and that with In this "it was very touching to watch how the hearts of citizens trembled in abundance of gratitude and streamed tears in gratitude to the mayor." After asking the watchman in detail where he could go closer, if necessary, to the cathedral, to government offices, to the governor, he went to look at the river flowing in the middle of the city, on the way he tore off the poster nailed to the post, so that when he came home, he could read it carefully, looked intently at a lady of not bad appearance walking along the wooden sidewalk, followed by a boy in military livery, with a bundle in his hand, and, once again looking around everything with his eyes, as if in order to remember the position of the place well, he went home straight to his room, supported lightly on the stairs by a tavern servant. Having drunk his tea, he sat down in front of the table, ordered a candle to be brought to him, took a poster out of his pocket, brought it to the candle and began to read, screwing up his right eye a little. However, there was little remarkable in the poster: a drama was given by Mr. Kotzebue, in which Roll was played by Mr. Poplevin, Kora was the maiden Zyablov, other faces were even less remarkable; however, he read them all, even got to the price of the stalls and found out that the poster had been printed in the printing house of the provincial government, then he turned it over to the other side: to find out if there was something there, but, finding nothing, he rubbed his eyes, turned neatly and put it in his chest, where he used to put everything that came across. The day seems to have ended with a portion of cold veal, a bottle of sour cabbage soup, and a sound sleep in the whole pump wrap, as they say in other places of the vast Russian state. The whole next day was devoted to visits; the visitor went to pay visits to all the city dignitaries. He was respectfully with the governor, who, as it turned out, like Chichikov, was neither fat nor thin, had Anna around his neck, and it was even rumored that he had been introduced to the star; however, he was a very good-natured fellow and sometimes even embroidered tulle himself. Then he went to the vice-governor, then he was with the prosecutor, with the chairman of the chamber, with the police chief, with the farmer, with the head of state-owned factories ... it is a pity that it is somewhat difficult to remember all the mighty of this world; but suffice it to say that the newcomer showed extraordinary activity in regard to visits: he even came to pay his respects to the inspector of the medical board and the city architect. And then he sat in the britzka for a long time, thinking about who else to pay a visit to, and there were no more officials in the city. In conversations with these rulers, he very skillfully knew how to flatter everyone. He hinted to the governor somehow in passing that you enter his province like paradise, the roads are velvet everywhere, and that those governments that appoint wise dignitaries are worthy of great praise. He said something very flattering to the chief of police about the town watchmen; and in conversations with the vice-governor and the chairman of the chamber, who were still only state councilors, he even said by mistake twice: "your excellency", which they liked very much. The consequence of this was that the governor made him an invitation to come to him that day to a house party, other officials, too, for their part, some for dinner, some for a Boston party, some for a cup of tea. The visitor, it seemed, avoided talking much about himself; if he spoke, then in some general places, with noticeable modesty, and his conversation in such cases took on somewhat bookish turns: that he was an insignificant worm of this world and did not deserve to be taken care of a lot, that he experienced a lot in his lifetime, suffered in the service for the truth, had many enemies who even made attempts on his life, and that now, wanting to calm down, he is finally looking for a place to live, and that, having arrived in this city, he considered it an indispensable duty to testify his respect to its first dignitaries. Here is everything that the city learned about this new face, who very soon did not fail to show himself at the governor's party. The preparation for this party took more than two hours, and here the newcomer showed such attentiveness to the toilet, which is not even seen everywhere. After a short afternoon nap, he ordered to be washed and rubbed both cheeks with soap for an extremely long time, propping them up from the inside with his tongue; then, taking a towel from the tavern servant's shoulder, he wiped his plump face from all sides with it, beginning from behind his ears and snorting first or twice into the tavern servant's very face. Then he put on his shirt-front in front of the mirror, plucked out two hairs that had come out of his nose, and immediately after that found himself in a lingonberry-colored tailcoat with a spark. Thus dressed, he rolled in his own carriage along the endlessly wide streets, illuminated by the meager illumination from the windows that flickered here and there. However, the governor's house was so lit up, even for a ball; a carriage with lanterns, two gendarmes in front of the entrance, postillion cries in the distance - in a word, everything is as it should be. On entering the hall, Chichikov had to shut his eyes for a minute, because the glare from the candles, lamps, and ladies' dresses was terrible. Everything was filled with light. Black tailcoats flickered and flitted apart and in heaps here and there, like flies on the white shining refined sugar during the hot July summer, when the old housekeeper cuts and divides it into sparkling fragments in front of the open window; the children all stare, gathered around, following with curiosity the movements of her hard hands raising the hammer, and the aerial squadrons of flies, lifted by the light air, fly in boldly, like complete masters, and, taking advantage of the old woman's short-sightedness and the sun that disturbs her eyes, sprinkle tidbits where smashed, where in thick heaps. Saturated with a rich summer, already at every step arranging delicious dishes, they flew in not at all to eat, but only to show themselves, to walk up and down the sugar heap, to rub their back or front legs against one another, or to scratch them. under your wings, or, stretching out both front paws, rub them over your head, turn around and fly away again, and fly back again with new tiresome squadrons. Before Chichikov had time to look around, he was already seized by the arm of the governor, who immediately introduced him to the governor's wife. The visiting guest did not drop himself here either: he said some kind of compliment, very decent for a middle-aged man who has a rank that is not too high and not too small. When the established pairs of dancers pressed everyone against the wall, he, laying his hands behind him, looked at them for about two minutes very carefully. Many ladies were well dressed and fashionable, others dressed in what God sent to the provincial town. The men here, as elsewhere, were of two kinds: some thin, who kept hovering around the ladies; some of them were of such a kind that it was difficult to distinguish them from St. and made the ladies laugh just as in St. Petersburg. Another kind of men were fat or the same as Chichikov, that is, not so fat, but not thin either. These, on the contrary, squinted and backed away from the ladies and looked only around to see if the governor's servant had set up a green table for whist somewhere. Their faces were full and round, some even had warts, some were pockmarked, they didn’t wear hair on their heads either in tufts or curls, or in the manner of “damn me”, as the French say, their hair were either low cut or slick, and the features were more rounded and strong. These were honorary officials in the city. Alas! fat people know how to handle their affairs better in this world than thin ones. The thin ones serve more on special assignments or are only registered and wag hither and thither; their existence is somehow too easy, airy and completely unreliable. Fat people never occupy indirect places, but all straight, and if they sit somewhere, they will sit securely and firmly, so that the place will soon crackle and bend under them, and they won’t fly off. They do not like external brilliance; on them the tailcoat is not so cleverly tailored as on thin ones, but in the caskets there is the grace of God. At the age of three, a thin man does not have a single soul left that is not pawned in a pawnshop; the fat one was calm, lo and behold - and a house appeared somewhere at the end of the city, bought in the name of his wife, then at the other end of another house, then a village near the city, then a village with all the land. Finally, the fat one, having served God and the sovereign, having earned universal respect, leaves the service, moves over and becomes a landowner, a glorious Russian master, a hospitable man, and lives, and lives well. And after him, again, thin heirs lower, according to Russian custom, all their father's goods on courier. It cannot be concealed that almost this kind of reflection occupied Chichikov at the time when he examined society, and the consequence of this was that he finally joined the fat ones, where he met almost all the familiar faces: the prosecutor with very black thick eyebrows and a somewhat winking left eye as if he were saying: “Let's go, brother, to another room, there I will tell you something,” a man, however, serious and silent; the postmaster, a short man, but a wit and a philosopher; the chairman of the chamber, a very sensible and amiable person, who all greeted him as if he were an old acquaintance, to which he bowed somewhat sideways, however, not without pleasantness. Immediately he met the very courteous and courteous landowner Manilov and the somewhat clumsy-looking Sobakevich, who stepped on his foot the first time, saying: "I beg your pardon." Immediately he was given a whist card, which he accepted with the same polite bow. They sat down at the green table and did not get up until supper. All conversations ceased completely, as always happens when one finally indulges in a sensible occupation. Although the postmaster was very eloquent, he, having taken the cards in his hands, immediately expressed a thinking physiognomy on his face, covered his upper lip with his lower lip and maintained this position throughout the game. Leaving the figure, he struck the table firmly with his hand, saying, if there was a lady: “Go, old priest!”, If the king: “Go, Tambov peasant!” And the chairman would say: “And I'm on his mustache! And I'm on her mustache! Sometimes, when the cards hit the table, expressions came out: “Ah! was not, not from what, so with a tambourine! Or just exclamations: “Worms! worm-hole! picnic! or: “pickendras! pichurushchuh! pichura! and even simply: “pichuk!” - the names with which they crossed the suits in their society. At the end of the game they argued, as usual, rather loudly. Our visiting guest also argued, but somehow extremely skillfully, so that everyone saw that he was arguing, but meanwhile he was arguing pleasantly. He never said: “you went”, but: “you deigned to go”, “I had the honor to cover your deuce”, and the like. In order to further agree on something with his opponents, he each time offered them all his silver snuffbox with enamel, at the bottom of which they noticed two violets, put there for smell. The visitor's attention was especially occupied by the landowners Manilov and Sobakevich, whom we mentioned above. He at once inquired about them, immediately calling a few in the direction of the chairman and the postmaster. A few questions made by him showed in the guest not only curiosity, but also thoroughness; for first of all he asked how many souls of peasants each of them had and in what condition their estates were, and then he inquired as to the name and patronymic. In a little while, he had completely charmed them. The landowner Manilov, not yet at all an elderly man, who had eyes as sweet as sugar, and screwed them up every time he laughed, was beyond memory of him. He shook his hand for a very long time and asked him convincingly to do him the honor of his arrival in the village, to which, according to him, was only fifteen miles from the city outpost. To which Chichikov, with a very polite inclination of his head and a sincere shake of the hand, replied that he was not only ready to fulfill this with great pleasure, but even honored it as a sacred duty. Sobakevich also said somewhat succinctly: “And I ask you,” shuffling his foot, shod in a boot of such a gigantic size, which it is hardly possible to find a responding foot anywhere, especially at the present time, when heroes are beginning to appear in Rus'. 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 an efficient 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 police chief's wife - that he is the most amiable 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.

"Dead Souls. 04 Volume 1 - Chapter IV"

Arriving at the tavern, Chichikov ordered to stop for two reasons: on the one hand, to give the horses a rest, and on the other hand, so that he himself could have a little snack and refreshment. The author must confess that he is very envious of the appetite and stomach of such people. For him, all the gentlemen of the big hand, who live in St. Petersburg and Moscow, mean absolutely nothing, who spend their time thinking about what to eat tomorrow and what kind of dinner to compose for the day after tomorrow, and who take up this dinner only after putting a pill into their mouth, swallowing oysters, sea spiders, and other wonders, and then going to Carlsbad or the Caucasus. No, these gentlemen never aroused envy in him. But the gentlemen of the middle class, that at one station they will demand ham, at another pig, at the third a slice of sturgeon or some kind of baked sausage with onions, and then, as if nothing had happened, sit down at the table at any time you want, and sturgeon ear with burbots and hisses and grumbles with milk between their teeth, eating a pie or a kulebyaka with a catfish plow, so that it alienates the appetite - these gentlemen, for sure, enjoy the enviable gift of heaven! More than one gentleman of a great hand would immediately donate half the souls of the peasants and half the estates, mortgaged and unmortgaged, with all the improvements on a foreign and Russian footing, in order only to have such a stomach as a gentleman of an average hand has, but the trouble is that for no money, below? estates, with and without improvements, one cannot acquire such a stomach as a gentleman of an average hand has.

The darkened wooden tavern received Chichikov under its narrow hospitable canopy on carved wooden posts, resembling old church candlesticks. The tavern was something like a Russian hut, somewhat larger. Carved ornamental cornices of fresh wood around the windows and under the roof dazzled its dark walls sharply and vividly; jugs of flowers were painted on the shutters.

Climbing up the narrow wooden staircase to the wide entrance, he met the door that opened with a creak, and with it the light that came out, and a fat old woman in colorful chintz, who said: "Come here!" All the old friends found in the room, which everyone comes across in small wooden taverns, of which there are quite a few built along the roads, namely: a frost-covered samovar, smoothly scraped pine walls, a triangular cupboard with teapots and cups in the corner, gilded porcelain testicles in front of images, hanging on blue and red ribbons, a recently calved cat, a mirror showing four eyes instead of two, and some kind of cake instead of a face; finally, fragrant herbs and carnations studded in bunches near the icons, dried up to such an extent that anyone who wanted to sniff them only sneezed and nothing more.

"Is there a piglet?" with such a question Chichikov turned to the standing woman.

"With horseradish and sour cream?"

"With horseradish and sour cream."

"Give it here!"

The old woman went to dig and brought in a plate, a napkin so starched that it puffed up like dried bark, then a knife with a yellowed bone block, thin as a penknife, a two-pronged fork, and a salt shaker, which could not possibly be placed directly on the table.

Our hero, as usual, now entered into a conversation with her and asked if she herself kept a tavern or was the owner, and how much income the tavern gives, and whether sons live with them, and that the eldest son is a single or married person, and what kind of wife he took, whether with a large dowry or not, and whether the father-in-law was pleased, and was not angry that he received few gifts at the wedding; In other words, I didn't miss anything. It goes without saying that he was curious to find out what kind of landowners they had in the circle, and found out that there were all sorts of landowners: Blokhin, Pochitaev, Mylnoy, Cheprakov Colonel, Sobakevich. "Ah! Do you know Sobakevich?" he asked, and at once heard that the old woman knew not only Sobakevich, but also Manilov, and that Manilov would be more magnanimous than Sobakevich: he orders the chicken to be boiled at once, and asks for veal too; if there is mutton's liver, then he will ask for mutton's liver, and will just try everything, but Sobakevich will ask one thing, but he will eat it all, even demand a surcharge for the same price.

While he was talking in this way, eating a piglet, of which there was already the last piece left, the sound of the wheels of an approaching carriage was heard. Glancing out the window, he saw a light britzka drawn by three good horses stopped in front of the tavern. Two men got out of the chaise. One blond, tall; the other is a little lower, dark-haired. The fair-haired one was in a dark blue Hungarian coat, the dark-haired one was simply in a striped jacket. In the distance, another carriage dragged along, empty, drawn by some long-haired quadruple with tattered collars and a rope harness. The fair-haired one immediately went up the stairs, while the black-haired one still remained and felt something in the britzka, talking right there with the servant and at the same time waving to the carriage coming after them. His voice sounded somewhat familiar to Chichikov. While he was examining him, the blond had already found the door and opened it. He was a tall man with a thin face, or, as they say, wasted, with a red mustache. From his tanned face one could conclude that he knew what smoke was, if not gunpowder, then at least tobacco smoke. He politely bowed to Chichikov, to which the latter replied in kind. In the course of a few minutes, they would probably have been talking and getting to know each other well, because the beginning had already been made, and both, almost at the same time, expressed pleasure that the dust on the road had been completely beaten down by yesterday's rain, and now it was cool to drive. and it was pleasant how his dark-haired comrade entered, throwing his cap off his head on the table, valiantly ruffling his thick black hair with his hand. He was of medium height, a very well-built fellow, with full ruddy cheeks, teeth as white as snow, and jet-black sideburns. He was fresh as blood and milk; health seemed to spurt from his face.

"Ba, ba, ba!" he suddenly exclaimed, spreading both arms at the sight of Chichikov. "What fates?"

Chichikov recognized Nozdryov, the same one with whom he dined together at the prosecutor's, and who in a few minutes got on such a short footing with him that you already began to talk, although, for his part, he did not give any reason for this.

"Where did you go?" said Nozdryov, and without waiting for an answer, he continued further: “And I, brother, from the fair. Congratulate me: I’ve blown my ass! Here he himself bent Chichikov's head, so that he almost hit it against the frame. "You see, what rubbish! The damned dragged them by force; I've already moved into his britzka." Saying this, Nozdryov pointed his finger at his comrade. “But you don’t know each other yet? My son-in-law Mizhuev! We talked about you all morning. “Well, look, I say, if we don’t meet Chichikov.” Well, brother, if you knew how I was blown! that he not only thumped four trotters, but simply let everything go. After all, I have neither a chain nor a watch ... " Chichikov looked and saw for sure that he had neither a chain nor a watch. It even seemed to him that one of his sideburns was smaller and not as thick as the other. “But if there were only twenty rubles in your pocket,” Nozdryov continued: “precisely no more than twenty, I would win back everything, that is, except for what I would win back, so, as an honest person, I would now put thirty thousand in wallet".

"However, you said so even then," the blond answered: and when I gave you fifty rubles, I immediately squandered them.

"And I wouldn't have squandered it! By God, I wouldn't have squandered it! If I hadn't done something stupid myself, really, I wouldn't have squandered it. If I didn't bend the duck after the password on the damned seven, I could break the whole bank."

“However, I didn’t break it,” said the blond.

“I didn’t break it because I bent the duck at the wrong time. Do you think your major plays well?”

"Good or not good, but he beat you." "Eka importance!" said Nozdrev. "So I'll beat him too. No, just try to play with a doublet, so then I'll see, then I'll see what kind of player he is! But, brother Chichikov, how we had a good time in the first days! that there had never been such a congress. Everything that was brought from the village was sold at the best price for me. Oh, brother! what a spree! Now, even if you remember ... damn it! that is, what a pity that you "He wasn't! Imagine that a dragoon regiment was stationed three versts from the city. Do you believe that there were forty officers, no matter how many there were, in the city; how we began to drink, brother... Captain-captain Kiss.. Such a nice mustache, brother, such! He calls Bordeaux simply a booty. "Bring me, brother, he says, booties!" Lieutenant Kuvshinnikov ... Ah, brother, what a sweet man! "We were all together with him. What wine Ponomarev gave us! You need to know that he is a swindler and you can't take anything in his shop: it interferes with wine all sorts of rubbish: sandalwood, burnt cork, and even elderberry, the scoundrel, rubs, but if you pull out some kind of bottle from the far room, which he calls special, well, just, brother, you are in the empyrean. We had such champagne - what is the governor's before him? just kvass. Imagine, not a clique, but some kind of matradour clique; it means double clique. And he also took out one bottle of French called: bonbon. Smell? - socket and everything you want. We've had a lot of fun!.. Some prince came after us, sent to the shop for champagne, there wasn't a single bottle in the whole city, all the officers had drunk. Do you believe that I alone drank seventeen bottles of champagne in the course of dinner!

"Well, you won't drink seventeen bottles," remarked the blond.

"As an honest man, I say that I drank," answered Nozdryov.

"You can tell yourself what you want, but I'm telling you that you won't drink even ten."

"Well, do you want to bet that I'll drink?"

"Why bet?"

"Well, put in your gun that you bought in the city."

"Don't want".

"Well, put it on, try it!"

"And I don't want to try."

“Yes, if you were without a gun, it would be like without a hat. Oh, brother Chichikov, that is, how I regretted that you were not there! I know that you would not have parted with Lieutenant Kuvshinnikov. "It's not like the prosecutor and all the provincial misers in our city, who are shaking for every penny. This one, brother, and in pebbles, and in a bank, and in everything you want. Eh, Chichikov, well, what would you was it worth it to come? Really, you suck for that, you kind of cattle breeder! Kiss me, my soul, death loves you! Mizhuev, look: fate has brought together: well, what is he to me or I to him? he came from God knows where, I also live here.. And how many carriages, brother, were there, and it was all en gros. Kuvshinnikov knew, red tape! We were with him at almost all the balls. One was so dressed up, ruffles on her, and ruffles, and the devil knows what was not there ... I only think to myself: "Damn it!" And Kuvsh Innnikov, that is, she is such a beast, sat down next to her and in French allowed her such compliments... Believe me, he didn't miss the simple women. That's what he calls: take advantage of the strawberries. Wonderful fish and balyks were brought in. I did bring one with me, it's good that I guessed to buy it when there was still money. Where are you going now?"

"And I go to the little man to one," said Chichikov.

"Well, what a little man, drop him! let's go to me!"

"No, you can't, there's business."

"Well, that's the point! I already invented it! Oh, you're Opodeldok Ivanovich!"

"Right, cause, and even necessary."

"I bet you're lying! Well, just tell me who you're going to?"

"Well, to Sobakevich."

Here Nozdryov burst out laughing with that resonant laughter that only a fresh, healthy person bursts into, whose teeth to the last show white as sugar, their cheeks tremble and bounce, and the neighbor behind two doors, in the third room, rises from sleep, wide-eyed and saying: "Ek dismantled him!"

"What's so funny about that?" said Chichikov, somewhat dissatisfied with such laughter.

But Nozdryov continued to laugh at the top of his lungs, saying: "Oh, have mercy! Really, I'll crack with laughter!"

"There is nothing funny: I gave him my word," said Chichikov.

“But you won’t be happy with life when you come to him, it’s just a Zhidomor! After all, I know your character, you will be cruelly taken aback if you think to find a jar and a good bottle of some kind of bonbon there. Listen, brother: well, to hell with Sobakevich, "Let's go to my house now! I'll treat you with some balyk! Ponomarev, the beast, bowed like that, saying: only for you; search the whole fair, he says, you won't find such a rogue, but he's a terrible one. I said it to his face:" You, I say, are the first scammers with our tax farmer!" He laughs, the beast, stroking his beard. Kuvshinnikov and I had breakfast every day in his shop. Ah, brother, I forgot to tell you: I know that you will not be left behind now, but for ten thousand I'll give it back, I say in advance. Hey, Porfiry!" he shouted, going up to the window, at his man, who held a knife in one hand, and in the other a crust of bread with a piece of balyk, which he had the good fortune to cut off in passing, taking something out of the britzka. "Hey, Porfiry!" shouted Nozdryov: "Bring me a puppy! What a puppy!" he continued, turning to Chichikov. "Stolen, the owner never gave for himself. I promised him a brown mare, which, remember, I traded with Khvostyrev ..." Chichikov, however, never saw a brown mare or Khvostyrev in his life.

"Barin! Would you like to have something to eat?" said at this time, coming up to him, the old woman.

"Nothing. Eh, brother, what a spree! However, give me a glass of vodka, what kind do you have?"

"Aniseed," answered the old woman.

"Well, let's have anise," said Nozdryov.

"Give me a glass too!" said the blond.

"In the theater, one actress sang like a canary like a canary! Kuvshinnikov, who was sitting next to me, "Here, he says, brother, I would like to use it about strawberries!" Some booths, I think, were fifty. Fenardi turned the mill for four hours. Here he accepted a glass from the hands of an old woman, who bowed low to him for that. "Ah, give it here!" he cried when he saw Porfiry come in with the puppy. Porfiry was dressed in the same way as the master, in some kind of arkhaluka, quilted on wadding, but somewhat greasy.

"Come on, put it on the floor here!"

Porfiry laid the puppy on the floor, which, stretched out on all four paws, sniffed the ground.

"Here's a puppy!" said Nozdryov, taking him by the back and lifting him up with his hand. The puppy let out a rather plaintive howl.

“However, you didn’t do what I told you,” said Nozdryov, turning to Porfiry and carefully examining the puppy’s belly: “and didn’t think to comb it out?”

"No, I combed it out."

"But why the fleas?"

"I can't know. Maybe they got out of the britzka somehow."

"You're lying, you're lying, and you didn't imagine scratching; I think you're a fool, you've let your own people in. Look, Chichikov, look at those ears, feel them with your hand."

"Yes, why, I already see: a good breed!" answered Chichikov.

"No, take it on purpose, feel your ears!"

To please him, Chichikov felt his ears, saying: "Yes, it will be a good dog."

"Do you feel how cold your nose is? Take it with your hand." Not wanting to offend him, Chichikov took him by the nose, saying: "Good instinct."

"A real muzzle," continued Nozdryov. "I confess, I have long sharpened my teeth on the muzzle. Here, Porfiry, take it!"

Porfiry, taking the puppy under his belly, carried him into the britzka.

"Listen, Chichikov, you must by all means go to me now; five versts in all, we'll rush in spirit, and there, perhaps, you can go to Sobakevich."

"Well," Chichikov thought to himself, "I'm really going to visit Nozdryov. Why is he worse than the others? The same kind of person, and besides you can ask for something." "If you please, let's go," he said, "but, mind you, don't delay, time is precious to me."

"Well, my soul, that's it! That's good! Wait a minute! I'll kiss you for it." Here Nozdryov and Chichikov kissed. "And nice: the three of us and ride!"

"No, please let me go," the blond said, "I need to go home."

"Nonsense, trifles, brother, I won't let you in."

"Really, the wife will be angry, but now you can transfer to their britzka."

"No, no, no! And don't think!"

The blond was one of those people whose character, at first glance, has some kind of stubbornness. Before you open your mouth, they are already ready to argue and, it seems, they will never agree to something that is clearly contrary to their way of thinking, that they will never call a stupid person smart, and that they will especially not agree to dance according to someone else's tune; but it will always end with softness in their character, that they will agree precisely to what they rejected, they will call the stupid smart and then they will go dancing as well as possible to someone else's tune, in a word, they will start smooth, and end with shit.

"Nonsense!" said Nozdryov in response to some kind of performance by the blond, put a cap on his head, and the blond went after them.

"They didn't pay for vodka, sir," said the old woman.

"Ah, well, well, mother. Listen, son-in-law! Please pay. I don't have a penny in my pocket."

"How old are you?" son-in-law said.

"Yes, father, two kopecks of everything," answered the old woman.

"You're lying, you're lying. Give her half a ruble, she's had enough."

"It's not enough, master," said the old woman, but she accepted the money with gratitude and ran in a hurry to open the door for them. She wasn't at a loss because she asked for four times what? cost vodka.

The guests sat down. Chichikov's chaise rode next to the chaise in which Nozdryov and his son-in-law were sitting, and therefore all three of them could talk very freely to each other throughout the journey. Behind them followed, incessantly lagging behind, Nozdryov's small carriage on lean, philistine horses. In it sat Porfiry with a puppy.

Since the conversation that the travelers had among themselves was not very interesting for the reader, we will do better if we say something about Nozdryov himself, who, perhaps, will have a chance to play not the last role in our poem.

Nozdryov's face is probably somewhat familiar to the reader. It was not enough to meet such people. They are called broken fellows, they are known even in childhood and at school for good comrades, and for all that they are very painfully beaten. Something open, direct, daring is always visible in their faces. They soon get acquainted, and before you have time to look back, they already tell you: you. Friendship will lead, it seems, forever; but it almost always happens that a friend will fight them that same evening at a friendly feast. They are always talkers, revelers, reckless people, prominent people. Nozdryov at thirty-five was exactly the same as he was at eighteen and twenty: a lover of walks. His marriage did not change him at all, especially since his wife soon departed for the next world, leaving two children, who he definitely did not need. The children, however, were looked after by a pretty nanny. He could not sit at home for more than a day. His sensitive nose could hear him for several tens of miles, where there was a fair with all sorts of congresses and balls; he was already there in the twinkling of an eye, arguing and causing confusion at the green table, for he had, like all such, a passion for cards. As we have already seen from the first chapter, he played cards not entirely without sin and cleanly, knowing many different overexposures and other subtleties, and therefore the game very often ended in another game: either they beat him with boots, or they set his overexposure to thick and very good sideburns, so that sometimes he returned home with only one sideburn, and then quite thin. But his healthy and full cheeks were so well created and contained so much vegetative strength that his sideburns soon grew again, even better than before. And, what is strangest of all, what can happen only in Rus' alone, after some time he already met again with those friends who had beaten him, and met as if nothing had happened, and he, as they say, was nothing, and they were nothing.

Nozdryov was in some respects a historical person. Not a single meeting he attended was without a story. Some kind of story was bound to happen: either the gendarmes would lead him by the arms out of the gendarme hall, or they would be forced to push out their own friends. If this does not happen, then, nevertheless, something will happen that will never happen to another: either he will cut himself in the buffet in such a way that he only laughs, or he will lie in the most cruel way, so that at last he himself will become ashamed. And he will lie completely without any need: he will suddenly tell that he had a horse of some blue or pink wool and similar nonsense, so that the listeners finally all leave, saying: "Well, brother, it seems you have already begun to pour bullets" . There are people who have a passion to spoil their neighbor, sometimes for no reason at all. Another, for example, even a man in rank, with a noble appearance, with a star on his chest, will shake hands with you, talk to you about deep subjects that cause reflection, and then, you look, right there, before your eyes, and spoil you. And he will spoil like a simple collegiate registrar, and not at all like a man with a star on his chest, talking about lofty and thought-provoking subjects; so that you just stand and marvel, shrugging your shoulders, and nothing more. Nozdryov had the same strange passion. The closer someone got along with him, the more likely he was to piss everyone off: he spread a fable, more stupid than which it is difficult to invent, upset a wedding, a trade deal, and did not at all consider himself your enemy; on the contrary, if chance brought him to meet with you again, he treated you again in a friendly way and even said: "You are such a scoundrel, you will never come to me." Nozdryov was in many respects a versatile man, that is, a man of all trades. At that very moment, he offered you to go anywhere, even to the ends of the world, to enter into any enterprise you want, to change everything that is, for everything you want. A gun, a dog, a horse - everything was the subject of an exchange, but not at all in order to win, it happened simply from some kind of restless briskness and glibness of character. If he was lucky enough to attack a simpleton at the fair and beat him, he would buy a bunch of everything that had previously come across his eyes in the shops: collars, smoking tars, calicoes, candles, handkerchiefs for the nanny, a stallion, raisins, a silver washstand, Dutch linen, grained flour, tobacco, pistols, herrings, paintings, grinding tools, pots, boots, faience utensils - as far as money was enough. However, it rarely happened that this was brought home; almost on the same day it went down to another, the happiest player, sometimes even adding his own pipe with a pouch and a mouthpiece, and at other times the whole quadruple with everything: with a carriage and a coachman, so that the owner himself went in a short frock coat or arkhaluk to look for what - some friend to use his carriage. That's what Nozdryov was like! Maybe they will call him a battered character, they will say that now Nozdryov is no longer there. Alas! those who speak thus will be unjust. Nozdryov will not be out of the world for a long time. He is everywhere between us and, perhaps, only walks in a different caftan; but people are frivolously impenetrable, and a man in a different caftan seems to them a different person.

Meanwhile, three carriages had already rolled up to the steps of Nozdryov's house. There was no preparation in the house for their reception. In the middle of the dining-room stood wooden goats, and two peasants, standing on them, whitewashed the walls, singing some endless song; the floor was all splattered with whitewash. Nozdryov ordered the peasants and the goats out at the same time and ran into another room to give orders. The guests heard him ordering dinner from the cook; realizing this, Chichikov, who was already beginning to feel somewhat appetite, saw that they would not sit down to table before five o'clock. Nozdryov, returning, led the guests to inspect everything that he had in the village, and, in a little over two hours, he showed absolutely everything, so that there was nothing left to show. First of all, they went to inspect the stable, where they saw two mares, one dappled gray, the other brown, then a bay stallion, unprepossessing in appearance, but for which Nozdryov swore that he had paid ten thousand.

"You didn't give ten thousand for him," the son-in-law remarked. "He's not even worth one? It."

"Honest to God, I gave ten thousand," said Nozdryov.

"You can swear to yourself as much as you like," answered the son-in-law.

"Well, if you want, we'll bet!" said Nozdrev.

The son-in-law did not want to bet on the mortgage.

Then Nozdryov showed the empty stalls, where there were also very good horses. In the same stable they saw a goat, which, according to the old belief, was considered necessary to keep with the horses, which, as it seemed, was in harmony with them, walked under their bellies, as at home. Then Nozdryov led them to look at the wolf cub that was on a leash. "Here's a wolf cub!" he said: "I purposely feed him raw meat. I want him to be a perfect beast!" We went to look at the pond, in which, according to Nozdryov, there were fish of such size that two people could hardly pull out a thing, which, however, the relative did not fail to doubt. "I'll show you, Chichikov," Nozdryov said, "I'll show you the most excellent pair of dogs: the fortress of black meat simply inspires amazement, the shield is a needle!" and led them to a very beautifully built little house, surrounded by a large courtyard fenced on all sides. Entering the yard, they saw all sorts of dogs there, both thick-dog and pure-dog, of all possible colors and stripes: muruga, black and tan, half-piebald, murugo-piebald, red-piebald, black-eared, gray-eared ... Here there were all nicknames, all imperative moods: shoot, scold, flutter, fire, cut cheese, draw, bake, bake, severga, killer whale, reward, guardian. Nozdryov was among them just like a father among a family: all of them, immediately throwing up their tails, which the dogs call rules, flew straight towards the guests and began to greet them. About ten of them put their paws on Nozdryov's shoulders. Scold showed the same friendship to Chichikov and, rising to his hind legs, licked him with his tongue right on his lips, so that Chichikov immediately spat out. We examined the dogs, which inspired amazement with the strength of black meats - they were good dogs. Then they went to examine the Crimean bitch, who was already blind and, according to Nozdryov, was about to die soon, but two years ago she was a very good bitch. They also examined the bitch - the bitch, for sure, was blind. Then they went to inspect the water mill, where there was a lack of fluff, into which the upper stone is fixed, rapidly rotating on a spindle, fluttering, in the wonderful expression of a Russian peasant. "And here soon there will be a forge!" said Nozdrev. After walking a little, they saw, for sure, a smithy, and examined the smithy.

"Here in this field," said Nozdryov, pointing with his finger at the field: "Russians are so dead that the earth is not visible; I myself caught one by the hind legs with my own hands."

"Well, you won't catch a hare with your hand!" brother-in-law noticed.

"But I caught it, I caught it on purpose!" answered Nozdrev. "Now I'll take you to see," he continued, turning to Chichikov, "the border where my land ends."

Nozdryov led his guests through the field, which in many places consisted of hummocks. The guests had to make their way between fallows and raised fields. Chichikov began to feel tired. In many places their feet squeezed the water under them, to such an extent the place was low. At first they were careful and stepped carefully, but then, seeing that this was of no use, they wandered straight on, not making out where the dirt was more and where it was less. After walking a decent distance, they saw, for sure, the border, which consisted of a wooden post and a narrow ditch.

"Here is the border!" said Nozdryov: "everything you see on this side, it's all mine, and even on the other side, all this forest that's turning blue over there, and everything beyond the forest, it's all mine."

"But when did this forest become yours?" asked the son-in-law. "Have you recently bought it? After all, it was not yours."

"Yes, I bought it recently," answered Nozdryov.

"When did you manage to buy it so soon?"

"Why, I bought it the third day, and it's expensive, damn it, I gave it."

"Why, you were at the fair at the time."

"Oh, you Sofron! Isn't it possible to be at the fair at the same time and buy land? Well, I was at the fair, and my clerk bought here without me."

"Yes, well, perhaps the clerk!" said the son-in-law, but even then he hesitated and shook his head. The guests returned by the same nasty road to the house. Nozdryov led them to his office, in which, however, there were no noticeable traces of what happens in offices, that is, books or paper; only sabers and two guns hung, one worth three hundred and the other eight hundred rubles. The brother-in-law, having looked around, shook his head only. Then Turkish daggers were shown, on one of which was mistakenly carved: Master Savely Sibiryakov. After that, a hurdy-gurdy appeared to the guests. Nozdryov immediately turned something over in front of them. The hurdy-gurdy played not without pleasantness, but in the middle of it, it seems, something happened: for the mazurka ended with the song, "Malbrugh went on a campaign"; and "Mallbrug went camping" unexpectedly ended with some long-familiar waltz. Nozdryov had long since ceased to twirl, but there was only one pipe in the hurdy-gurdy, very lively, in no way wanting to calm down, and for a long time afterwards it whistled alone. Then came wooden, earthenware, meerschaum pipes, smoked and unsmoked, covered with suede and not covered, a recently won chibouk with an amber mouthpiece, and a pouch embroidered by some countess, who, somewhere at the post station, fell head over heels in love with him, with handles , according to him, were the most subtle superflue, a word that probably meant with him the highest point of perfection. Having had a bite of salmon, they sat down at the table about five o'clock. Dinner, apparently, was not the main thing in Nozdryov's life; the dishes did not play a big role: some burned, some did not cook at all. It can be seen that the cook was guided by some kind of inspiration and put the first thing that came to hand: if there was a pepper near him - he poured pepper, if he caught cabbage - he popped cabbage, stuffed milk, ham, peas, in a word, go ahead, it was it would be hot, but some taste, it’s true, will come out. On the other hand, Nozdryov leaned heavily on wine: soup had not yet been served, he had already poured out a large glass of port wine for the guests and, in a different way, state sourtern, because in provincial and district cities there is no simple sautern. Then Nozdryov ordered to bring a bottle of Madeira, better than which the field marshal himself did not drink. Madeira, for sure, even burned in the mouth, for the merchants, already knowing the taste of the landowners who loved good Madeira, mercilessly filled it with rum, and sometimes poured aqua regia into it, in the hope that Russian stomachs would endure everything. Then Nozdryov ordered to bring some special bottle, which, according to him, was both bourgognon and champagne together. He poured very diligently into both glasses, right and left, both for his son-in-law and for Chichikov; Chichikov noticed, however, somehow casually, that he did not add much to himself. This forced him to be careful, and as soon as Nozdryov somehow spoke or poured for his son-in-law, he immediately knocked over his glass into a plate. In a short time, rowanberry was brought to the table, which, according to Nozdryov, had the perfect taste of cream, but in which, to amazement, fuselage was heard in all its strength. Then they drank some kind of balm, which bore a name that was even difficult to remember, and the owner himself on another occasion called it by a different name. Dinner was long over, and the wines had been tried, but the guests were still sitting at the table. Chichikov did not want to speak to Nozdryov in front of his son-in-law about the main subject. Still, the son-in-law was an outsider, and the subject required a solitary and friendly conversation. However, the son-in-law could hardly be a dangerous person, because he loaded, it seems, plenty and, sitting on a chair, every minute nodding. Noticing himself that he was not in a reliable condition, he finally began to ask for leave to go home, but in such a lazy and sluggish voice, as if, in a Russian expression, he was pulling a collar on a horse with tongs.

"And no-no! I won't let you in!" said Nozdrev.

"No, do not offend me, my friend, really, I will go," said the son-in-law: "you will offend me very much."

"Trifles, trifles! We'll build a bank this minute"

"No, build it yourself, brother, but I can't, my wife will be in a big complaint, really; I must tell her about the fair. You must, brother, really, you need to give her pleasure. No, don't hold me!"

"Well, her wife, to ...! You will actually do an important thing together!"

"No, brother! She is so respectable and faithful! She renders such services ... believe me, I have tears in my eyes. No, don't hold me back; as an honest man, I'll go. I assure you of this in my true conscience."

"Let him ride: what's the use of him!" Chichikov said quietly to Nozdryov.

"And really!" said Nozdryov: "Death does not like such thaws!" and added aloud: "Well, the devil with you, go and fuck with your wife, fetuk!"

"No, brother, don't scold me with a fetyuk (Fetyuk is an offensive word for a man, comes from?. A letter revered as an indecent letter.)", answered the son-in-law; "I owe her my life. Such, really, kind, dear, she shows such caresses ... she disassembles to tears, she asks what she saw at the fair, you need to tell everything, such, really, dear."

"Well, go, lie to her nonsense! Here is your cap."

“No, brother, you shouldn’t talk about her like that at all; by this you, one might say, offend me yourself, she is so sweet.”

"Well, then get out to her quickly!"

"Yes, brother, I'll go, I'm sorry that I can't stay. I would be happy with my soul, but I can't." The son-in-law repeated his apologies for a long time, not noticing that he himself had been sitting in the britzka for a long time, had long gone out of the gate and had long been empty fields in front of him. It must be assumed that the wife did not hear many details about the fair.

"Such rubbish!" said Nozdryov, standing in front of the window and looking at the departing carriage. "Here, how he dragged himself! The fastener is not bad, I have long wanted to pick it up. Why, such a ... you can’t get along with him in any way. Fetyuk, just fetyuk!"

Then they entered the room. Porfiry gave the candles, and Chichikov noticed in the hands of the owner a pack of cards that had come from nowhere.

"Well, brother," said Nozdryov, pressing the sides of the pack with his fingers and bending it a little, so that the piece of paper cracked and bounced off. "Well, to pass the time, I keep three hundred rubles in a jar!"

But Chichikov pretended not to have heard what he was talking about, and said, as if suddenly remembering: "Ah! so as not to forget: I have a request for you."

"Give first the word that you will fulfill"

"Yes, what request?"

"Well, give me your word!"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly".

"Here's the request: do you have, tea, a lot of dead peasants who have not yet been deleted from the audit?"

"Well, there is; but what"

"Transfer them to me, to my name"

"And what do you want?"

"Well, yes, I need to."

"Yes, what?"

"Well, yes, it's necessary ... it's my business, in a word, it's necessary."

"Well, it's true, he started something. Admit it, what?"

"Yes, what did you start? From such a trifle, you can't start anything."

"Why do you need them?"

"Oh, how curious! He would like to touch all sorts of rubbish with his hand, and even smell it!"

"Yes, why don't you want to say?"

"Yes, what kind of profit do you know? Well, just like that, a fantasy came."

"So here it is: until you say so, I won't do it!"

"Well, you see, that's really dishonest of you: you gave your word, and back down."

"Well, as you want for yourself, but I won't do it until you say what for."

"What would you say to him?" Chichikov thought, and after a moment's reflection he declared that he needed dead souls to gain weight in society, that he did not have large estates, so until that time at least some little souls.

"You're lying, you're lying!" said Nozdryov, not letting him finish. "Lie, brother!"

Chichikov himself noticed that he did not come up with it very cleverly and the pretext was rather weak. "Well, I'll tell you more directly," he said, correcting himself: "just please don't tell anyone. I'm thinking of getting married; but you need to know that the father and mother of the bride are pre-ambitious people. That's right, the commission: don't I am glad that I got in touch; they certainly want the groom to have no less than three hundred souls, and since I have almost a hundred and fifty peasants missing ... "

"Well, you're lying! you're lying!" shouted Nozdryov again.

"Well, here it is," said Chichikov, "I haven't lied so much," and he showed the smallest part with his thumb on his little finger.

"Jesuit, Jesuit. I bet you're lying!"

"However, this is insulting! what am I really like! why am I always lying?"

"Well, yes, I know you: after all, you are a big swindler, let me tell you this as a friend! If I were your boss, I would hang you on the first tree."

Chichikov was offended by this remark. Already any expression, in any way rude or insulting decency, was unpleasant to him. He did not even like to allow familiar treatment with him in any case, unless the person was of too high a rank. And so now he is completely offended.

"Honest to God, I would have hanged you," repeated Nozdryov, "I'm telling you this frankly, not to offend you, but simply in a friendly way."

"There are limits to everything," Chichikov said with dignity. "If you want to flaunt such speeches, then go to the barracks," and then added: "if you don't want to give it away, then sell it."

"Sell! Why, I know you, because you are a scoundrel, because you won't give dearly for them?"

"Oh, you're good too! Look at you! What do you have, diamonds, or what?"

"Well, it is. I already knew you."

"Have mercy, brother, what is your Jewish impulse! You should just give them to me."

"Well, listen, to prove to you that I'm not some kind of skuldyr at all, I won't take anything for them. Buy a stallion from me, I'll give them to you in addition."

"Have mercy, what do I need a stallion for?" said Chichikov, really amazed at such a proposal.

"What for? Why, I paid ten thousand for it, and I'll give it to you for four."

"What do I need a stallion for? I don't keep a factory."

“Yes, listen, you don’t understand: after all, I will only take three thousand from you now, and you can pay me the rest of the thousand later.”

"Yes, I do not need a stallion, God bless him!"

"Well, buy a brown mare."

"And you don't need a mare."

"For the mare and for the gray horse you saw with me, I will charge you only two thousand."

"I don't need horses."

"You will sell them: they will give you three times as much for them at the first fair."

"So you'd better sell them yourself when you're sure you'll win three times."

"I know that I will win, but I want you to benefit too."

Chichikov thanked for the location and flatly refused both the gray horse and the brown mare.

“Well, buy dogs. I’ll sell you such a pair, it’s just that the frost is tearing up your skin! Busty with a mustache, the hair stands up like bristles.

"Why do I need dogs? I'm not a hunter."

"Yes, I want you to have dogs. Listen, if you really don't want dogs, then buy a hurdy-gurdy from me, a wonderful hurdy-gurdy; myself, as an honest man, it cost fifteen hundred; I'll give it to you for 900 rubles."

"But why do I need a hurdy-gurdy? After all, I'm not a German, so that, dragging along the roads with it, begging for money."

"Why, this is not such a hurdy-gurdy as the Germans wear. It is an organ; look on purpose: it is all made of mahogany. Here I will show it to you again!" Here Nozdryov, grabbing Chichikov by the arm, began to drag him into another room, and no matter how he put his feet on the floor and assured that he already knew what kind of barrel organ, he should have heard again how Malbrug went on a campaign. "When you don't want money, listen to this: I'll give you a hurdy-gurdy and all the dead souls I have, and you give me your britzka and three hundred rubles in addition."

"Well, here's another, but what am I going to go in?"

"I'll give you another britzka. Let's go to the shed, I'll show it to you! You just repaint it, and the britzka will be a miracle."

"Oh, how his restless demon seized him!" thought Chichikov to himself, and resolved to get rid of all sorts of britzkas, hurdy-gurdies, and all possible dogs at all costs, despite the incomprehensible barrel-shaped ribs and lumpy paws.

"Why, the britzka, barrel organ and dead souls, all together!"

"I don't want to," Chichikov said once more.

"Why don't you want to?"

"Because I just don't want to, and that's enough."

"What you are, right! With you, as I see, it is impossible, as is usual between good friends and comrades, such, right! .. Now it is clear that a two-faced person!"

"But what am I, a fool, or something? You judge for yourself: why should I buy a thing that is absolutely unnecessary for me?"

"Well, please, don't tell me. Now I know you very well. Such, really, rakalia! Well, listen, if you want, we'll throw a jar. I'll put all the dead on the map, the hurdy-gurdy too."

"Well, deciding to go to the bank means being exposed to the unknown," said Chichikov, and meanwhile glanced askance at the cards in his hands. Both waists seemed to him very much like artificial ones, and the brim itself looked very suspicious.

"Why the uncertainty?" said Nozdrev. "No uncertainty! If only happiness is on your side, you can win the devil's abyss. There it is! What happiness!" he said, starting to throw to excite the enthusiasm. "What happiness! what happiness! out: it's pounding! that damned nine on which I squandered everything! I felt that I would sell, but already, closing my eyes, I think to myself: "Damn you, sell, damned!"

When Nozdryov said this, Porfiry brought a bottle. But Chichikov resolutely refused to play or drink.

"Why don't you want to play?" said Nozdrev.

"Well, because I'm not in the mood. Yes, I must admit, I'm not at all a fan of playing."

"Why not a hunter?"

Chichikov shrugged his shoulders and added: "Because he's not a hunter."

"Screw you!"

"What to do? God created it that way."

“Fetyuk, it’s simple! I used to think that you were at least a somewhat decent person, but you don’t understand any treatment. It’s impossible to talk to you like with a close person ... no straightforwardness, no sincerity! perfect Sobakevich, such a scoundrel !"

"But why are you scolding me? Is it my fault that I don't play? Sell me souls alone, if you are such a person that you tremble because of such nonsense."

"The devil you'll get a bald one! I wanted to, I wanted to give it away for nothing, but now you won't get it! At least three kingdoms, come on, I won't give it back. Such a shlitnik, a nasty stove-maker! From now on, I don't want to have anything to do with you. Porfiry, go, go tell me groom, so that he does not give oats to his horses, let them eat only hay.

Chichikov did not expect the last conclusion.

"It would be better if you just didn't show your face to me!" said Nozdrev.

In spite of this quarrel, however, the guest and host dined together, although this time there were no fancy-named wines on the table. There was only one bottle sticking out with some kind of Cypriot, which was what is called sourness in all respects. After supper, Nozdryov said to Chichikov, taking him to a side room where a bed had been prepared for him: "Here's your bed for you! I don't even want to wish you good night!"

Chichikov remained after Nozdryov's departure in the most unpleasant frame of mind. He was inwardly annoyed with himself, scolding himself for stopping by and wasting his time in vain. But he scolded himself even more for talking to him about the matter and acting imprudently, like a child, like a fool: for the matter was not at all of the kind to be entrusted to Nozdryov; Nozdryov, the man is rubbish, Nozdryov can lie, add, dissolve the devil knows what, some more gossip will come out - not good, not good. "Just, I'm a fool!" he said to himself. He slept very badly at night. Some small, agile insects bit him unbearably painfully, so that he scraped the wounded place with his whole handful, saying: "Ah, the devil take you along with Nozdryov!" He woke up early in the morning. His first act was to put on his dressing gown and boots and go across the yard to the stables in order to order Selifan to lay down the britzka at once. Returning through the yard, he met Nozdryov, who was also in a dressing gown, with a pipe in his teeth.

Nozdryov greeted him in a friendly way and asked how he slept.

"So-so," Chichikov answered very dryly.

"And I, brother," said Nozdryov, "such an abomination climbed all night that it's vile to talk; and after yesterday, it was as if the squadron had spent the night in my mouth. Imagine: I dreamed that I was flogged, she-she! what you can’t guess: the staff captain Kisses together with Kuvshinnikov.

"Yes," thought Chichikov to himself, "it would be nice if you were torn off in reality."

"Honest to God! Yes, it hurts! I woke up, damn it, something is really itching, that's right, flea witches. Well, you go now, get dressed; I'll come to you right away. You just need to curse the scoundrel clerk."

Chichikov went into the room to get dressed and wash. When after that he went out into the dining-room, there was already a tea set with a bottle of rum on the table. There were traces of yesterday's lunch and dinner in the room; it seems that the broom was not touched at all. Bread crumbs lay on the floor, and tobacco ash was visible even on the tablecloth. The owner himself, who did not hesitate to enter soon, had nothing under his dressing gown, except for an open chest, on which some kind of beard grew. Holding a chibouk in his hand and sipping from a cup, he was very good for a painter who did not like the fear of gentlemen slicked and curled, like a compass signs, or cut with a comb.

"Well, what do you think?" said Nozdryov, after a short pause. "Do you want to play for souls?"

"I already told you, brother, that I'm not playing; buy, if you please, I'll buy."

"I don't want to sell it, it won't be friendly. I won't take off the hymen from the devil knows what. In a jar is another matter. Huh? Let's drop at least the waist!"

"I already said no."

"Don't you want to change?"

"Don't want".

"Well, listen, let's play checkers; if you win, it's all yours. After all, I have a lot of those who need to be deleted from the audit. Hey, Porfiry, bring the checker player here."

"Toil in vain: I will not play."

“Why, it’s not for the bank; there can be no happiness or falsehood here: after all, everything comes from art; I even warn you that I don’t know how to play at all, unless you give me something in advance.”

"Here I am," Chichikov thought to himself, "I'll play checkers with him. I played checkers pretty well, but it's hard for him to get up here."

"If you please, so be it, I'll play checkers," said Chichikov.

"Souls go in a hundred rubles!"

"Why? It's enough if they go at fifty."

"No, what's a jackpot fifty? I'd better include in this amount some puppy of average hand or a gold signet for your watch."

"Well, if you please!" Chichikov said.

"How much will you give me in advance?" said Nozdrev

"For what reason? Of course, nothing."

"At least have my two moves."

"I don't want to, I don't play well myself."

"I haven't taken checkers in my hands for a long time!" said Chichikov, also moving a saber.

"We know you, how badly you play!" said Nozdryov, speaking with his saber.

"I haven't taken checkers in my hands for a long time!" said Chichikov, moving his saber.

"We know you, how badly you play!" said Nozdryov, moving a saber, and at the same time moving another saber with the cuff of his sleeve.

"I haven't taken it in my hands for a long time!.. Eh, eh! this, brother, what? give her back!" Chichikov said.

“Yes, a checker,” said Chichikov, and at the same time he saw, almost in front of his very nose, another one, which, as it seemed, was making its way into the kings; where it came from, only God knew. "No," said Chichikov, getting up from the table: "there's no way to play with you! They don't move like that, all of a sudden three checkers!"

“Why three?

"Where did the other one come from?"

"What other?"

"But this one that sneaks into the kings?"

"Here you go, as if you don't remember!"

"No, brother, I've counted all the moves and remember everything; you've only just added it in; there's a place for it!"

"Like, where is the place?" said Nozdryov, blushing. "Yes, you, brother, as I see it, a writer!"

"No, brother, it seems that you are a writer, but only unsuccessfully"

"Who do you think I am?" Nozdrev said. "Will I cheat?"

"I don't respect you for anyone, but I'll never play from now on."

"No, you can't refuse," said Nozdryov, getting excited: "the game has begun!"

"I have the right to refuse because you don't play the way an honest man should."

"No, you're lying, you can't say that!"

"No, brother, you yourself are lying!"

"I did not cheat, but you cannot refuse, you must finish the game!"

"You won't force me to do that," Chichikov said coolly, and, going up to the board, mixed his checkers.

Nozdryov flushed and went up to Chichikov so close that he took two steps back.

"I'll make you play! It's okay that you mixed the checkers, I remember all the moves. We'll put them back the way they were."

"No, brother, it's over, I won't play with you."

"So you don't want to play?"

"You yourself see that there is no way to play with you."

"No, tell me straight, don't you want to play?" said Nozdryov, stepping even closer.

"Don't want!" said Chichikov, and, however, raised both hands, just in case, closer to his face, for the matter was getting really hot. This precaution was quite in place, because Nozdryov waved his hand ... and it could very well have happened that one of our hero's pleasant and full cheeks would have been covered with indelible dishonor; but happily parrying the blow, he seized Nozdryov by both of his fervent hands and held him tightly.

"Porfiry, Pavlushka!" shouted Nozdryov in a rage, trying to break free.

Hearing these words, Chichikov, in order not to make the yard people witness the seductive scene, and at the same time feeling that it was useless to hold Nozdryov, let go of his hands. At the same time, Porfiry entered, followed by Pavlushka, a stout fellow with whom it was completely unprofitable to deal with.

"So you don't want to end the games?" Nozdrev said. "Answer me straight!"

"There is no way to finish the game," Chichikov said and looked out the window. He saw his britzka, which stood completely ready, and Selifan seemed to be waiting for a wave to roll up under the porch, but there was no way to get out of the room: two burly serf fools were standing in the doorway.

"So you don't want to finish the games?" Nozdryov repeated, his face burning as if on fire.

"If only you played like an honest man. But now I can't."

"Ah! so you can't, scoundrel! when you saw that it wasn't yours, you can't! Beat him!" he shouted frantically, turning to Porfiry and Pavlushka, while he himself grabbed a cherry chubuk in his hand. Chichikov became pale as a sheet. He wanted to say something, but felt that his lips were moving without a sound.

"Beat him!" shouted Nozdryov, rushing forward with a cherry chibouk, covered in heat and sweat, as if he were approaching an impregnable fortress. "Beat him!" he shouted in the same voice as during a great attack he shouts to his platoon: "Guys, forward!" some desperate lieutenant, whose eccentric courage has already acquired such fame that a special order is given to hold his hands during hot deeds. But the lieutenant already felt abusive enthusiasm, everything went round and round in his head; Suvorov rushes before him, he climbs to a great cause. "Guys, go ahead!" he shouts, rushing, not thinking that he is harming the already well-thought-out plan of a general attack, that millions of rifle muzzles are exposed in the embrasures of impregnable fortress walls that go beyond the clouds, that his powerless platoon will fly up like fluff into the air, and that the fatal bullet is already whistling, preparing shut his noisy throat. But if Nozdryov expressed himself as a desperate, lost lieutenant who approached the fortress, then the fortress he was going to did not at all look like an impregnable one. On the contrary, the fortress felt such fear that its soul hid in its very heels. Already the chair with which he thought of defending himself had been torn out of his hands by the serfs, already, closing his eyes, neither dead nor alive, he was preparing to taste his master's Circassian chubuk and, God knows, whatever happened to him; but the fates were pleased to save the sides, shoulders and all the well-bred parts of our hero. Unexpectedly, the sounds of a bell rattled as if from clouds, the sound of the wheels of a cart flying up to the porch was heard clearly, and even in the room itself the heavy snoring and heavy shortness of breath of the heated horses of the stopped troika echoed. Everyone involuntarily glanced out the window: someone with a mustache, in a semi-military frock coat, was climbing out of the cart. Having inquired about the entrance, he entered at the very moment when Chichikov had not yet had time to recover from his fear and was in the most miserable position in which a mortal had ever been.

"Let me know who Mr. Nozdryov is here?" said the stranger, looking in some bewilderment at Nozdryov, who was standing with a chibouk in his hand, and at Chichikov, who was barely beginning to recover from his disadvantageous position.

"May I first inquire to whom I have the honor of speaking?" said Nozdryov, coming closer to him.

"Captain-Captain".

"And what do you want?"

"I have come to announce to you the notice communicated to me that you are under trial until the end of the decision in your case."

"What nonsense, what business?" said Nozdrev.

"You were involved in the story on the occasion of the infliction of personal insult on the landowner Maksimov with rods in a drunken state."

"You're lying, I never even saw the landowner Maksimov!"

"Dear sir! Allow me to report that I am an officer. You can say this to your servant, not to me!"

Here Chichikov, not waiting for Nozdryov to answer this, rather for his hat, but behind the police captain, slipped out onto the porch, got into the britzka and ordered Selifan to drive the horses at full speed.


Nikolai Gogol - Dead Souls. 04 Volume 1 - Chapter IV, read text

See also Nikolai Gogol - Prose (stories, poems, novels ...):

Dead Souls. 05 Volume 1 - Chapter V
Our hero collapsed, however, in order. Although the chaise raced at full speed...

Dead Souls. 06 Volume 1 - Chapter VI
Before, a long time ago, in the years of my youth, in the years of the irrevocably flashed my ...

"Dead Souls" is a complex work with multi-level text, where even experienced readers can get lost. Therefore, a brief retelling of Gogol's poem chapter by chapter, as well as her, which will help students to penetrate the author's large-scale intentions, will not hurt anyone.

Comments on the entire text or image of a particular class, he asks to be sent to him personally, for which he will be grateful.

Chapter one

The chaise of Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov (here is his) - a collegiate adviser - accompanied by the servants of Selifan and Petrushka, calls into the city of NN. Chichikov's description is quite typical: he is not handsome, but not bad-looking, not thin, but not fat, not young, but not old either.

Chichikov, showing masterful hypocrisy and the ability to find an approach to everyone, gets acquainted with all the important officials and makes a good impression on them. At the governor's, he meets the landowners Manilov and Sobakevich, and at the police chief, Nozdryov. All he undertakes to pay a visit.

Chapter Two

The author writes about Chichikov's servants: Petrushka and the drinking coachman Selifan. Pavel Ivanovich goes to Manilov (here is him), to the village of Manilovka. In the manners and portrait of the landowner, everything was too sugary, he thinks only about abstract things, he can’t finish reading one book and dreams of building a stone bridge, but only in words.

Manilov lives here with his wife and two children, whose names are Alkid and Themistoclus. Chichikov says that he wants to buy "dead souls" from him - dead peasants who are still on the revision lists. He refers to the desire to save the newfound friend from paying taxes. The landowner, after a short fright, gladly agrees to give them to the guest for free. Pavel Ivanovich hurriedly leaves him and goes to Sobakevich, satisfied with the successful start of his enterprise.

Chapter Three

On the way to Sobakevich's house, due to the inattention of the coachman Selifan, the britzka drives far from the right road and gets into an accident. Chichikov is forced to ask for a lodging for the night with the landowner Nastasya Petrovna Korobochka (here is her).

The old woman is too frugal, incredibly stupid, but very successful. Order reigns on her estate, she conducts business with many merchants. The widow keeps all her old things and receives the guest with suspicion. In the morning Chichikov tried to talk about "dead souls," but for a long time Nastasya Petrovna could not understand how the dead could be traded. Finally, after a small scandal, an irritated official makes a deal and sets off on a repaired chaise.

Chapter Four

Chichikov enters a tavern, where he meets the landowner Nozdrev (here he is). He is an avid gambler, a fan of inventing tall tales, a reveler and a talker.

Nozdryov calls Chichikov to his estate. Pavel Ivanovich asks him about "dead souls", but the landowner inquires about the purpose of such an unusual purchase. He offers the hero to buy other expensive goods along with the souls, but everything ends in a quarrel.

The next morning, the gambling Nozdryov invites the guest to play checkers: the prize is “dead souls”. Chichikov notices the landowner's fraud, after which he runs away from the danger of a fight, thanks to the police captain who has entered.

Chapter Five

Chichikov's chaise runs over the carriage, causing a slight delay. A pretty girl, noticed by Pavel Ivanovich, will later turn out to be the governor's daughter. The hero drives up to the huge village of Sobakevich (here is his), everything in his house is of impressive size, like the owner himself, whom the author compares with a clumsy bear. The detail is especially characteristic: a massive, roughly knocked together table, which reflects the disposition of the owner.

The landowner speaks rudely of everyone whom Chichikov speaks of, recalling Plyushkin, whose serfs endlessly die because of the stinginess of the owner. Sobakevich calmly sets a high price for the dead peasants, he himself begins to talk about the sale. After much bargaining, Chichikov manages to buy a few souls. The chaise goes to the landowner Plyushkin.

Chapter six

The village of Plyushkina has a miserable appearance: the windows are without glass, the gardens are abandoned, the houses are overgrown with mold. Chichikov takes the owner for an old housekeeper. Plyushkin (here he is), looking like a beggar, escorts the guest to a dusty house.

This is the only landowner whose past the author tells about. The master's wife and youngest daughter died, the rest of the children left him. The house was empty, and Plyushkin gradually sank to such a miserable state. He is glad to get rid of the dead peasants so as not to pay taxes for them, and happily sells them to Chichikov at a low price. Pavel Ivanovich goes back to NN.

Chapter Seven

Chichikov, on the way, examines the collected records and notices the variety of names of the dead peasants. He meets Manilov and Sobakevich.

The chairman of the chamber quickly draws up documents. Chichikov reports that he bought serfs for withdrawal to the Kherson province. Officials celebrate the success of Pavel Ivanovich.

Chapter Eight

Chichikov's huge acquisitions become known throughout the city. Various rumors are spreading. Pavel Ivanovich finds an anonymous letter of love content.

At the ball at the governor's, he meets a girl whom he saw on the way to Sobakevich. He is fond of the governor's daughter, forgetting about other ladies.

The sudden appearance of a drunken Nozdryov almost disrupts Chichikov's plan: the landowner begins to tell everyone how the traveler bought dead peasants from him. He is taken out of the hall, after which Chichikov leaves the ball. At the same time, Korobochka goes to find out from her friends whether her guest has set the right price for "dead souls".

Chapter Nine

Friends Anna Grigorievna and Sofya Ivanovna gossip about a visiting official: they think that Chichikov is acquiring "dead souls" in order to please the governor's daughter or kidnap her, in which Nozdryov can become his accomplice.

The landlords are afraid of punishment for the scam, so they keep the deal a secret. Chichikov is not invited to dinners. Everyone in the city is busy with the news that a counterfeiter and a robber are hiding somewhere in the province. Suspicion immediately falls on the buyer of dead souls.

Chapter Ten

The police chief is debating who Pavel Ivanovich is. Some people think he is Napoleon. The postmaster is sure that this is none other than Captain Kopeikin, and tells his story.

When Captain Kopeikin fought in 1812, he lost his leg and arm. He came to St. Petersburg to ask for help from the governor, but the meeting was postponed several times. The soldier soon ran out of money. As a result, he is advised to return home and wait for the help of the sovereign. Shortly after his departure, robbers appeared in the Ryazan forests, whose chieftain, by all indications, is Captain Kopeikin.

But Chichikov has all the arms and legs, so everyone understands that this version is wrong. Because of the excitement, the prosecutor dies, Chichikov has a cold for the third day and does not leave the house. When he recovers, he is denied admission to the governor, and others treat him the same way. Nozdryov tells him about the rumors, praises him for the idea of ​​kidnapping the governor's daughter and offers his help. The hero understands that he must urgently run away from the city.

Chapter Eleven

In the morning, after some delays in preparations, Chichikov sets off. He sees the prosecutor being buried. Pavel Ivanovich leaves the city.

The author tells about Chichikov's past. He was born into a noble family. His father often reminded his son of the need to please everyone and take care of every penny. At the school, Pavlush already knew how to earn money, for example, by selling pies and showing performances of a trained mouse for a fee.

Then he began to serve in the Treasury. Pavel Ivanovich made his way to a high position by announcing to the old official that he was going to marry his daughter. In all positions, Chichikov used his official position, which is why he once got on trial for a smuggling case.

One day, Pavel Ivanovich got excited about the idea of ​​buying "dead souls" in order to ask Kherson province for their placement. Then he could get a lot of money on the security of non-existent people and make himself a big fortune.

Interesting? Save it on your wall!

Chapter one

The action takes place in the provincial town of NN, where collegiate adviser Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov arrives. He is a middle-aged man of medium build and good looks. His servants, the lackey Petrushka and the coachman Selifan, arrived with him. The time of the events described is a few years after the war of 1812.

Chichikov checks into a hotel, dine in a tavern and asks the servant there about the surrounding landowners. He is also interested in whether there was any epidemic in these places, from which many people died. Chichikov's goal is to buy dead peasant souls.

The next day, the official pays visits to important people. At a party at the governor's, he meets the landowners Manilov and Sobakevich, who invite Chichikov to their estates. And at the police chief, Pavel Ivanovich makes acquaintance with another landowner - Nozdryov. The city society is delighted with Chichikov.

Chapter Two

Pavel Ivanovich, accompanied by Petrushka and Selifan, leaves the city to visit Manilov and Sobakevich. The first on his way is the village of Manilovka, the owner of which meets Chichikov with great joy.

Gogol characterizes Manilov as a spineless person - "neither this nor that", and in communication also "sweet". Manilov constantly talks about his unrealizable and unnecessary ideas. He is a bad owner, as is his wife. Nobody cares about the house or the fields here. Servants without a master's eye steal, mess around and get drunk.

After dinner, Chichikov explains to Manilov the reason for his arrival: he wants to buy the peasants, who are still listed as alive, but have already died. The owner does not understand why the guest needs it. But, wanting to do something pleasant, he agrees. To register the bill of sale, they agree to meet in the city. After Chichikov's departure, Manilov remained perplexed for a long time.

Chapter Three

On the way to Sobakevich, the hero gets caught in a downpour and loses his way. The seeker of dead souls is forced to spend the night in the first place that comes across, which turns out to be the estate of the landowner Korobochka.

In the morning, Chichikov inspects the estate and notes the thoroughness and thriftiness in everything. The elderly widow Nastasya Petrovna Korobochka was a slow-witted woman and completely impossible to talk to. Only after long explanations Chichikov manages to buy dead souls from the landowner. True, I had to promise to buy fat and feathers from Korobochka. Nastasya Petrovna doubts for a long time: did she sell too cheap in this deal?

Chapter Four

Chichikov stops at a tavern, where he meets Nozdryov, and then accepts the landowner's invitation to visit his village. Nozdryov, according to Gogol, was a historical man, because he constantly fell into various stories. He is an incorrigible talker, a liar, a gossip, a reveler, a scorcher and a braggart. Nozdrev loves cards and other games of chance. He constantly cheats at the table and is often beaten for it, but remains on friendly terms with everyone.

Chichikov makes his request for dead souls to Nozdryov. The owner does not want to sell the peasants, but offers to play cards for them or exchange them. Having quarreled with Nozdryov, Pavel Ivanovich goes to bed. But in the morning the owner again offers to play for dead souls, now - in checkers. During the game, Nozdryov openly cheats. A scandal breaks out, turning into a fight. Suddenly, the police captain appears with a message about a lawsuit against Nozdryov. His visit saves Chichikov from beatings. Without a moment's delay, Pavel Ivanovich rushes out and orders the coachman to drive at full speed.

Chapter Five

On the way, Chichikov's britzka runs into a carriage in which an elderly lady and a lovely girl are riding. All the way to the estate of Sobakevich, Pavel Ivanovich indulges in dreams of a beautiful stranger.

Sobakevich is a thorough host. Himself large and clumsy as a bear, he surrounds himself with the same strong and durable things. Pavel Ivanovich sets out his case, Sobakevich is desperately bargaining, but in the end the deal is nevertheless concluded. The parties agree to arrange everything in the city. In a conversation with Sobakevich, Chichikov learns about the landowner Plyushkin, whose serfs are "dying like flies." Pavel Ivanovich goes with his proposal to the new owner.

Chapter six

The village of Plyushkin evokes a depressing impression: desolation and devastation reign everywhere. In the courtyard of a completely decrepit manor house, Chichikov meets a strange creature of an incomprehensible gender. Pavel Ivanovich at first takes him for a housekeeper, but it turns out that this is the owner of the house - Plyushkin. Chichikov is shocked by the beggarly appearance of the old man. Having a huge estate, colossal supplies of provisions and various goods, Plyushkin daily walks around the village and collects various little things: strings, feathers, etc. He puts all this in his room.

Chichikov easily bargained for 120 dead souls and 70 more fugitives from the miser. Having refused the treat, which has long turned into something petrified, the happy Pavel Ivanovich returns to the hotel.

Chapter Seven

The next day, as agreed, the hero meets with Sobakevich and Manilov to finalize the deal. They concluded a bill of sale for the peasants of Plyushkin. The deal began to celebrate, to say a lot of toasts. They did not forget to drink to the future wife of the newly-minted landowner. Chichikov shared his plans to take the purchased peasants to the Kherson province.

Chapter Eight

The rumor about Chichikov's purchases quickly spreads around the city, everyone calls the hero a "millionaire". There is a big stir among the ladies. Pavel Ivanovich even receives an anonymous love letter, as well as an invitation to the governor to the ball.

Chichikov is in a great mood. At the ball, he is surrounded by ladies, among whom Pavel Ivanovich tries to guess the one that sent the letter. It turns out that the young lady who captivated his imagination is the governor's daughter. Chichikov is shocked by an unexpected meeting and neglects other ladies, which causes their displeasure. To complete the trouble, Nozdryov appears and tells how Chichikov traded dead souls with him. And although no one believes Nozdryov for a long time, Pavel Ivanovich begins to worry, he leaves the ball in disarray. At this time, the landowner Korobochka arrives in the city. She is going to find out: how much the dead souls are now.

Chapter Nine

In the morning, rumors are spreading around the city that Chichikov, with the help of Nozdryov, wants to kidnap the governor's daughter. Gossip reaches the governor's wife, and she inflicts a strict interrogation on her daughter. Chichikov was ordered not to be allowed on the threshold. Society is puzzled by the question: so who is Pavel Ivanovich? In order to understand and discuss everything, the city elite gathers at the police chief.

Chapter Ten

Here, officials discuss Chichikov and the oddities associated with him for a long time. The postmaster talks about Captain Kopeikin, suggesting that this is Pavel Ivanovich.

During the War of 1812, Captain Kopeikin lost an arm and a leg. He appealed to St. Petersburg with a request for a pension. While the officials were dragging out the case, Kopeikin ran out of money. In desperation, the captain decided to take over the ministry, but he was caught and expelled from the city. Two months later, a band of robbers led by Kopeikin began to hunt in the forests.

After listening to the story, the society protested: Kopeikin was disabled, while Chichikov's arms and legs were intact. It was decided to send for Nozdryov and question him thoroughly. Nozdryov immediately declares Chichikov a counterfeiter, a kidnapper of the governor's daughter and a spy. These rumors upset the prosecutor so much that he dies.

Now Pavel Ivanovich is not received by the governor. The situation is clarified by Nozdrev, who appeared at Chichikov's hotel. Upon learning that the official is accused of forging banknotes, the failed kidnapping of the governor's daughter, and the death of the prosecutor, Chichikov decides to urgently flee the city.

Chapter Eleven

We learn the story of the main character. Chichikov from poor nobles, his mother died early, and his father was often sick. He took little Pavlush to study in the city. The boy did not shine with his abilities, but he graduated from college with an award for diligent behavior. From an early age, he showed a talent for finding ways to make money.

As soon as Chichikov graduated from college, his father died, leaving Pavel a penny inheritance. The young man zealously took up the service, but without patronage he could only get a seedy place. However, Chichikov came up with a cunning plan and wooed the boss's ugly daughter. As soon as he was appointed to a good place, the groom immediately pretended that he had not promised anything.

Having changed several positions, where he slowly took bribes, Pavel Ivanovich got a job at customs. There he was known as a storm of smugglers. When the authorities, convinced of the loyalty of their employee, gave Chichikov all powers, he conspired with the smugglers. After several scams, Pavel Ivanovich became incredibly rich. However, while drinking, he quarreled with one of his accomplices, who brought him to justice. Chichikov nevertheless managed to escape prison, but almost nothing remained of his huge fortune.

Pavel Ivanovich again began to earn money from lower positions. One day, Chichikov learned that dead peasants, who, according to the revision tale, were still alive, could be placed in the board of trustees. So he had the idea to acquire dead souls.

And now Chichikov's britzka, harnessed by a trio of horses, rushes on.

Volume two

As you know, Gogol burned the second volume of his work. Only a few drafts survived, according to which it was possible to restore some of the chapters.

Chapter one

The author describes the magnificent landscape that opens from the balcony of the landowner Andrei Ivanovich Tentetnikov, a very lazy person. He rubs his eyes for two hours in the morning, sits at tea for the same amount of time and writes a global work on the structure of Russia. But which year did not advance even a page in this essay.

And the young man started quite worthy, showed great promise. But when his teacher died, further education caused disappointment in Tentetnikov. Entering the service under patronage, Andrei Ivanovich at first wanted to benefit the state, but soon became disillusioned with the service. He retired and returned to his estate.

One day, Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov appears in his lonely house and lingers there for some time. Having learned about the quarrel between the owner and the neighbor-general, whose daughter was predicted to be Tentetnikov's bride, Chichikov volunteers to settle the matter and goes to the military.

Chapter Two

Pavel Ivanovich gets acquainted with the general and his daughter, manages to reconcile the old man with Tentetnikov and composes a fable about his uncle in order to buy dead souls from the general ...

This is where the text of the chapter ends.

Chapter Three

Chichikov goes to Colonel Koshkarev, but ends up in a completely different estate - to Pyotr Petrovich Petukh. The hospitable host turns out to be a lover of food. Just in time for dinner, his neighbor Platon Mikhailovich Platonov arrives - a hand-written handsome man, languishing in the village from boredom. Chichikov has the idea to take Plato on his wanderings. He agrees, but first requires a short visit to his estate.

The next day, the heroes leave for the village, which belongs to Platonov's son-in-law Konstantin Konstanzhoglo. This is a surprisingly economic man, whose estate is flourishing. Chichikov is so impressed that he asks Constanjoglo to teach him the mind and tell him how to successfully conduct business. The owner of the estate advises Chichikov to go to Koshkarev, and then return and stay with him for a couple of days.

Koshkarev, not without reason, is considered crazy. His village is a ubiquitous construction site. The new state-of-the-art houses are adorned with signs like "Depot for agricultural implements." Every business with Koshkarev goes through the execution of many papers. Even oats cannot be given to horses without a whole bunch of bureaucratic permits.

Realizing that it will not be possible to buy dead souls here because of the terrible mess and bureaucracy, Chichikov returns to Constanjoglo in annoyance. At dinner, the owner shared his experience of housekeeping and tells how a profitable business can be started from any waste. The conversation also turns to the richest farmer Murazov, who started from scratch, and now has a million dollar fortune. Chichikov goes to bed with a firm determination to buy an estate and start a household like Constantjoglo. He hopes to acquire the neighboring Khlobuev estate.

Chapter Four

Chichikov, Platonov and Konstanzhoglo go to Khlobuev to negotiate the sale of the estate. The village and the master's house are in a severe state of disrepair. We agreed for 35 thousand rubles. Then we went to Platonov, where Chichikov met his brother Vasily. It turns out that he is in trouble - the neighbor Lenitsin captured the wasteland. Pavel Ivanovich volunteers to help in this problem and talk with the offender. At Lenitsin's, Chichikov starts his signature conversation about buying dead souls. The owner doubts, but then his wife appears with a one-year-old son. Pavel Ivanovich begins to play with the child, and he "marks" Chichikov's new tailcoat. To hush up the trouble, Lenitsin agrees to a deal.

DEAD SOULS

A small chaise with a middle-aged gentleman of good appearance, not fat, but not thin, drove into the provincial town of NN. The arrival made no impression on the inhabitants of the city. The visitor stopped at a local tavern. During dinner, a new visitor asked the servant in the most detailed way, who used to run this institution, and who now, how much income and what kind of owner. Then the visitor found out who was the governor in the city, who was the chairman of the chamber, who was the prosecutor, that is, "he did not miss a single significant official."

In addition to the city authorities, the visitor was interested in all the large landowners, as well as the general state of the region: whether there were any epidemics in the province or general famine. After dinner and a long rest, the gentleman wrote down his rank, first and last name on a piece of paper to report to the police. Going down the stairs, the floorman read: "Collegiate adviser Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov, landowner, according to his own needs."

The next day Chichikov devoted visits to all city officials. He testified his respect even to the inspector of the medical board and the city architect.

Pavel Ivanovich showed himself to be a good psychologist, since in almost every house he left the most favorable impressions about himself - "he was very skillfully able to flatter everyone." At the same time, Chichikov avoided talking about himself, but if the conversation turned to his person, he got off with general phrases and somewhat bookish turns. The visitor began to receive invitations to the houses of officials. The first was an invitation to the governor. Getting ready, Chichikov very carefully put himself in order.

During the reception, the guest of the city managed to show himself to be a skillful interlocutor, he successfully made a compliment to the governor's wife.

The male society was divided into two parts. The thin men followed the ladies and danced, while the thick men mostly concentrated at the gaming tables. Chichikov joined the latter. Here he met most of his old acquaintances. Pavel Ivanovich also met the wealthy landowners Manilov and Sobakevich, about whom he immediately made inquiries from the chairman and postmaster. Chichikov quickly charmed both and received two invitations to visit.

The next day the newcomer went to the chief of police, where from three o'clock in the afternoon they played whist until two in the morning. There Chichikov met Nozdryov, "a broken fellow, whom you began to say to him after three or four words." In turn, Chichikov visited all the officials, and a good opinion developed about him in the city. He could show a secular person in any situation. Whatever the conversation turned to, Chichikov was able to support it. Moreover, "he knew how to clothe all this with some degree, he knew how to behave well."

Everyone was pleased with the arrival of a decent person. Even Sobakevich, who in general was rarely satisfied with his surroundings, recognized Pavel Ivanovich as "a most pleasant person." This opinion in the city persisted until one strange circumstance led the inhabitants of the city of NN into bewilderment.

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