Oh, I know.
You needn't teach me that. I do it not so much as a precaution as out of curiosity. I just itch to know what's doing in the world.
And it's very interesting reading, I tell you.
Some letters are fascinating—parts of them written grand—more edifying than the Moscow Gazette.
GOVERNOR.
Tell me, then, have you read anything about any official from St. Petersburg?
POSTMASTER.
No, nothing about a St. Petersburg official, but plenty about Kostroma and Saratov ones.
A pity you don't read the letters. There are some very fine passages in them.
For instance, not long ago a lieutenant writes to a friend describing a ball very wittily.—Splendid!
"Dear friend," he says, "I live in the regions of the Empyrean, lots of girls, bands playing, flags flying." He's put a lot of feeling into his description, a whole lot.
I've kept the letter on purpose.
Would you like to read it?
GOVERNOR.
No, this is no time for such things.
But please, Ivan Kuzmich, do me the favor, if ever you chance upon a complaint or denunciation, don't hesitate a moment, hold it back.
POSTMASTER.
I will, with the greatest pleasure.
AMMOS.
You had better be careful. You may get yourself into trouble.
POSTMASTER.
Goodness me!
GOVERNOR.
Never mind, never mind.
Of course, it would be different if you published it broadcast. But it's a private affair, just between us.
AMMOS.
Yes, it's a bad business—I really came here to make you a present of a puppy, sister to the dog you know about.
I suppose you have heard that Cheptovich and Varkhovinsky have started a suit. So now I live in clover. I hunt hares first on the one's estate, then on the other's.
GOVERNOR.
I don't care about your hares now, my good friend. That cursed incognito is on my brain.
Any moment the door may open and in walk—
SCENE III
Enter Bobchinsky and Dobchinsky, out of breath.
BOBCHINSKY.
What an extraordinary occurrence!
DOBCHINSKY.
An unexpected piece of news!
ALL.
What is it? What is it?
DOBCHINSKY.
Something quite unforeseen. We were about to enter the inn—
BOBCHINSKY [interrupting].
Yes, Piotr Ivanovich and I were entering the inn—
DOBCHINSKY [interrupting].
Please, Piotr Ivanovich, let me tell.
BOBCHINSKY.
No, please, let me—let me. You can't. You haven't got the style for it.
DOBCHINSKY.
Oh, but you'll get mixed up and won't remember everything.
BOBCHINSKY.