Why, yes. And I revise and whip all their articles into shape.
Smirdin gives me forty thousand for it.
ANNA.
I suppose, then, that Yury Miroslavsky is yours too.
KHLESTAKOV.
Yes, it's mine.
ANNA.
I guessed at once.
MARYA.
But, mamma, it says that it's by Zagoskin.
ANNA.
There! I knew you'd be contradicting even here.
KHLESTAKOV.
Oh, yes, it's so. That was by Zagoskin.
But there is another Yury Miroslavsky which was written by me.
ANNA.
That's right. I read yours.
It's charming.
KHLESTAKOV.
I admit I live by literature.
I have the first house in St. Petersburg.
It is well known as the house of Ivan Aleksandrovich. [Addressing the company in general.] If any of you should come to St. Petersburg, do please call to see me.
I give balls, too, you know.
ANNA.
I can guess the taste and magnificence of those balls.
KHLESTAKOV.
Immense!
For instance, watermelon will be served costing seven hundred rubles.
The soup comes in the tureen straight from Paris by steamer. When the lid is raised, the aroma of the steam is like nothing else in the world.
And we have formed a circle for playing whist—the Minister of Foreign Affairs, the French, the English and the German Ambassadors and myself.
We play so hard we kill ourselves over the cards. There's nothing like it.
After it's over I'm so tired I run home up the stairs to the fourth floor and tell the cook,
"Here, Marushka, take my coat"—What am I talking about?—I forgot that I live on the first floor.
One flight up costs me—My foyer before I rise in the morning is an interesting spectacle indeed—counts and princes jostling each other and humming like bees. All you hear is buzz, buzz, buzz.
Sometimes the Minister—[The Governor and the rest rise in awe from their chairs.] Even my mail comes addressed "Your Excellency."
And once I even had charge of a department.
A strange thing happened. The head of the department went off, disappeared, no one knew where.
Of course there was a lot of talk about how the place would be filled, who would fill it, and all that sort of thing.
There were ever so many generals hungry for the position, and they tried, but they couldn't cope with it. It's too hard.
Just on the surface it looks easy enough; but when you come to examine it closely, it's the devil of a job.
When they saw they couldn't manage, they came to me.
In an instant the streets were packed full with couriers, nothing but couriers and couriers—thirty-five thousand of them, imagine!
Pray, picture the situation to yourself!
"Ivan Aleksandrovich, do come and take the directorship of the department."
I admit I was a little embarrassed. I came out in my dressing-gown. I wanted to decline, but I thought it might reach the Czar's ears, and, besides, my official record—"Very well, gentlemen," I said,
"I'll accept the position, I'll accept. So be it. But mind," I said, "na-na-na, LOOK SHARP is the word with me, LOOK SHARP!"
And so it was.
When I went through the offices of my department, it was a regular earthquake, Everyone trembled and shook like a leaf. [The Governor and the rest tremble with fright.
Khlestakov works himself up more and more as he speaks.] Oh, I don't like to joke.
I got all of them thoroughly scared, I tell you.