Summary of dead souls part 1. Chapter III

Retelling plan

1. Chichikov arrives in the provincial town of NN.
2. Chichikov's visits to city officials.
3. Visit to Manilov.
4. Chichikov is at Korobochka.
5. Acquaintance with Nozdrev and a trip to his estate.
6. Chichikov at Sobakevich's.
7. Visit to Plushkin.
8. Registration of bills of sale for "dead souls" purchased from landowners.
9. The attention of the townspeople to Chichikov, the "millionaire".
10. Nozdrev reveals the secret of Chichikov.
11. The Tale of Captain Kopeikin.
12. Rumors about who Chichikov is.
13. Chichikov hastily leaves the city.
14. Story about the origin of Chichikov.
15. The author's reasoning about the essence of Chichikov.

retelling

Volume I
Chapter 1

A beautiful spring cart drove into the gates of the provincial city of NN. In it sat “a gentleman, not handsome, but not bad-looking, neither too fat nor too thin; one cannot say that he is old, however, and not so that he is too young. His arrival made no noise in the city. The hotel in which he stayed “was of a certain kind, that is, exactly the same as there are hotels in provincial towns, where for two rubles a day travelers get a quiet room with cockroaches ...” The visitor, waiting for dinner, managed to ask who was in significant officials in the city, about all significant landowners, who has how many souls, etc.

After dinner, having rested in the room, for a message to the police he wrote on a piece of paper: “College adviser Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov, landowner, according to his needs,” and he himself went to the city. “The city was in no way inferior to other provincial cities: the yellow paint on the stone houses was strong in the eyes and the gray on the wooden houses was modestly dark ... There were signs with pretzels and boots almost washed away by rain, where there was a shop with caps and the inscription: “Foreigner Vasily Fedorov”, where a billiard was drawn ... with the inscription: "And here is the institution." Most often came across the inscription: "Drinking house."

The whole next day was devoted to visits by city officials: the governor, the vice-governor, the prosecutor, the chairman of the chamber, the chief of police, and even the inspector of the medical board and the city architect. The governor, "like Chichikov, was neither fat nor thin, however, he was a great kind man and even sometimes embroidered tulle himself." Chichikov "very skillfully knew how to flatter everyone." He spoke little about himself and in some general phrases. In the evening, the governor had a "party", for which Chichikov carefully prepared. The men here, as elsewhere, were of two kinds: some were thin, curling around the ladies, and others were fat or the same as Chichikov, i.e. not too fat, but not thin either, they, on the contrary, backed away from the ladies. “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. Fat people never occupy indirect places, but all direct ones, and if they sit anywhere, they will sit securely and firmly. Chichikov thought for a moment and joined the fat ones. He met the landowners: the very courteous Manilov and the somewhat clumsy Sobakevich. Having completely charmed them with pleasant treatment, Chichikov immediately asked how many souls of peasants they had and in what condition their estates were.

Manilov, "still not at all an elderly man, who had eyes as sweet as sugar ... was oblivious of him," invited him to his estate. Chichikov also received an invitation from Sobakevich.

The next day, visiting the postmaster, Chichikov met the landowner Nozdrev, “a man of about thirty, a broken fellow, who, after three or four words, began to say “you” to him. He communicated with everyone in a friendly way, but when they sat down to play whist, the prosecutor and postmaster carefully looked at his bribes.

Chichikov spent the next few days in the city. Everyone had a very flattering opinion about him. He gave the impression of a man of the world, able to keep up a conversation on any topic and at the same time speak "neither loudly nor quietly, but exactly as it should."

Chapter 2

Chichikov went to the village to see Manilov. They searched for Manilov's house for a long time: “The village of Manilovka could lure a few with its location. The master's house stood alone at a brisk pace... open to all winds...' One could see a gazebo with a flat green dome, blue wooden columns and the inscription: 'Temple of Solitary Reflection'. An overgrown pond was visible below. Gray log huts darkened in the lowlands, which Chichikov immediately began to count and counted more than two hundred. In the distance was a pine forest. On the porch Chichikov was met by the owner himself.

Manilov was very glad to have a guest. “God alone could not say what the character of Manilov was. There is a kind of people known by the name: people are so-so, neither this nor that ... He was a prominent person; his features were not devoid of pleasantness... He smiled enticingly, was blond, with blue eyes. In the first minute of a conversation with him, you can’t help but say: “What a pleasant and kind person!” In the next minute you will not say anything, and in the third you will say: “The devil knows what it is!” - and you will move away ... At home he spoke little and for the most part reflected and thought, but what he thought about, too, God knew. It cannot be said that he was engaged in housekeeping ... it somehow went by itself ... Sometimes ... he said how good it would be if all of a sudden an underground passage was built from the house or a stone bridge was built across the pond, on which there would be shops on both sides, and so that merchants would sit in them and sell various small goods ... However, it ended with only one word.

In his study lay some kind of book, laid on one page, which he had been reading for two years. The living room was furnished with expensive, smart furniture: all the chairs were upholstered in red silk, and there were not enough for two, and for two years the owner had been telling everyone that they were not yet finished.

Manilov's wife ... "however, they were completely pleased with each other": after eight years of marriage, for her husband's birthday, she always prepared "some kind of beaded case for a toothpick." They cooked poorly in the house, the pantry was empty, the housekeeper stole, the servants were unclean and drunkards. But “all these subjects are low, and Manilova is well brought up,” in a boarding school where they teach three virtues: French, piano and knitting purses and other surprises.

Manilov and Chichikov showed unnatural courtesy: they tried to let each other through at the door without fail first. Finally, they both squeezed through the door at the same time. This was followed by an acquaintance with Manilov's wife and an empty conversation about mutual acquaintances. The opinion of all is the same: "a pleasant, most respectable, most amiable person." Then they all sat down to eat. Manilov introduced his sons to Chichikov: Themistoclus (seven years old) and Alkid (six years old). Themistoclus has a runny nose, he bites his brother on the ear, and he, having overcome tears and smeared with fat, eats dinner. After dinner, "the guest announced with a very significant air that he intended to talk about one very necessary matter."

The conversation took place in an office, the walls of which were painted with some kind of blue paint, even rather gray; on the table lay a few papers covered with writing, but most of all there was tobacco. Chichikov asked Manilov for a detailed register of peasants (revision tales), asking how many peasants had died since the last census of the register. Manilov did not remember exactly and asked why Chichikov needed to know this? He replied that he wanted to buy dead souls, which would be listed in the audit as living. Manilov was so taken aback that "as he opened his mouth, he remained with his mouth open for several minutes." Chichikov convinced Manilov that there would be no violation of the law, the treasury would even receive benefits in the form of legal duties. When Chichikov spoke about the price, Manilov decided to give away the dead souls free of charge and even took over the bill of sale, which aroused immoderate delight and gratitude from the guest. After seeing off Chichikov, Manilov again indulged in dreams, and now he imagined that the sovereign himself, having learned about his strong friendship with Chichikov, favored them with generals.

Chapter 3

Chichikov went to the village of Sobakevich. Suddenly it began to rain heavily, the driver lost his way. It turned out he was very drunk. Chichikov ended up in the estate of the landowner Nastasya Petrovna Korobochka. Chichikov was led into a room hung with old striped wallpaper, on the walls were paintings of some kind of birds, between the windows small antique mirrors with dark frames in the form of curled leaves. The hostess entered; “one of those mothers, small landowners, who cry for crop failures, losses and keep their heads somewhat to one side, and meanwhile they collect a little money in motley bags placed in drawers of chests of drawers ...”

Chichikov stayed overnight. In the morning, he first of all examined the peasant huts: “Yes, her village is not small.” At breakfast, the hostess finally introduced herself. Chichikov started talking about buying dead souls. The box could not understand why he was doing this, and offered to buy hemp or honey. She, apparently, was afraid to sell cheap, began to play up, and Chichikov, persuading her, lost patience: “Well, the woman seems to be strong-headed!” The box still could not decide to sell the dead: “Maybe the household will somehow need ...”

Only when Chichikov mentioned that he was holding government contracts did he manage to convince Korobochka. She wrote a power of attorney to make a bill of sale. After much bargaining, the deal was finally done. At parting, Korobochka generously treated the guest to pies, pancakes, cakes with various seasonings and other food. Chichikov asked Korobochka to tell her how to get out onto the main road, which puzzled her: “How can I do this? It’s tricky to tell, there are a lot of turns.” She gave a girl as an escort, otherwise it would not be easy for the crew to leave: “the roads spread out in all directions, like caught crayfish when they are poured out of a bag.” Chichikov finally got to the tavern, which stood on a high road.

Chapter 4

Dining in a tavern, Chichikov saw through the window a light britzka with two men driving up. In one of them Chichikov recognized Nozdryov. Nozdryov "was of medium height, a very well-built fellow with full ruddy cheeks, teeth as white as snow, and sideburns as black as pitch." This landowner, Chichikov recalled, whom he met at the prosecutor's office, after a few minutes began to say "you" to him, although Chichikov did not give a reason. Without stopping for a minute, Nozdryov began to speak, without waiting for the interlocutor's answers: “Where did you go? And I, brother, from the fair. Congratulate me: I’ve blown my ass! .. But how we had a spree in the first days! .. Do you believe that I alone drank seventeen bottles of champagne in the course of dinner! Nozdryov, not silent for a moment, spouted all sorts of nonsense. He drew from Chichikov that he was going to Sobakevich's, and persuaded him to stop by before that. Chichikov decided that he could “beg for something for nothing” from the lost Nozdryov, and agreed.

Author's description of Nozdrev. Such people “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 ... They are always talkers, revelers, reckless people, prominent people ...” Nozdryov used to even with his closest friends "Start with smoothness, and end with reptile." At thirty-five, he was the same as he was at eighteen. The deceased wife left two children who he did not need at all. He did not spend more than two days at home, he always wandered around the fairs, played cards "not entirely sinless and clean." “Nozdryov was in some respects a historical person. At not a single meeting where he was, there was a story: either the gendarmes would take him out of the hall, or his own friends would be forced to push him out ... or he would cut himself in the buffet, or he would lie ... The closer someone got along with him, the more he rather, he pissed everyone off: spread a fable, more stupid than which it is difficult to invent, upset a wedding, a deal, and did not at all consider himself your enemy. He had a passion "to change everything that is for everything you want." All this came from some kind of restless briskness and glibness of character.

On his estate, the owner immediately ordered the guests to inspect everything that he had, which took a little over two hours. Everything was abandoned, except for the kennel. In the owner's office, only sabers and two guns hung, as well as "real" Turkish daggers, on which "by mistake" was carved: "master Savely Sibiryakov." Over a poorly prepared dinner, Nozdryov tried to get Chichikov drunk, but he managed to pour out the contents of his glass. Nozdryov offered to play cards, but the guest flatly refused and finally started talking about business. Nozdryov, feeling that the matter was unclean, pestered Chichikov with questions: why does he need dead souls? After much squabbling, Nozdryov agreed, but on the condition that Chichikov would also buy a stallion, a mare, a dog, a hurdy-gurdy, etc.

Chichikov, having stayed the night, regretted that he had called on Nozdryov and started talking to him about the matter. In the morning it turned out that Nozdryov had not abandoned his intention to play for souls, and they finally settled on checkers. During the game, Chichikov noticed that his opponent was cheating and refused to continue the game. Nozdryov shouted to the servants: “Beat him!” and himself, "all in heat and sweat," began to break through to Chichikov. The soul of the guest went to the heels. At that moment, a cart with a police captain drove up to the house, who announced that Nozdryov was on trial for "inflicting personal insult on the landowner Maksimov with rods while drunk." Chichikov, not listening to the bickering, quietly slipped out onto the porch, got into the britzka, and ordered Selifan to "drive the horses at full speed."

Chapter 5

Chichikov could not move away from fear. Suddenly, his britzka collided with a carriage in which two ladies were sitting: one was old, the other was young, of extraordinary charm. They parted with difficulty, but Chichikov thought for a long time about the unexpected meeting and the beautiful stranger.

The village of Sobakevich seemed to Chichikov “quite large... The yard was surrounded by a strong and excessively thick wooden lattice. ... The village huts of the peasants were also cut down marvelously ... everything was fitted tightly and properly. ... In a word, everything ... was stubborn, without shaking, in some kind of strong and clumsy order. “When Chichikov glanced askance at Sobakevich, he seemed to him very much like a medium-sized bear.” “The tail coat on him was completely bear-colored ... He stepped with his feet at random and at random and stepped incessantly on other people's feet. The complexion was red-hot, hot, which happens on a copper penny. "Bear! The perfect bear! They even called him Mikhail Semyonovich, thought Chichikov.

Entering the drawing room, Chichikov noticed that everything in it was solid, clumsy, and had some strange resemblance to the owner himself. Every object, every chair seemed to say: “And I, too, Sobakevich!” The guest tried to start a pleasant conversation, but it turned out that Sobakevich considered all mutual acquaintances - the governor, the postmaster, the chairman of the chamber - to be swindlers and fools. "Chichikov remembered that Sobakevich did not like to speak well of anyone."

Over a plentiful dinner, Sobakevich “tipped half a lamb side onto his plate, ate it all, gnawed it, sucked it to the last bone ... Cheesecakes followed the lamb side, each of which was much larger than a plate, then a turkey as tall as a calf ...” Sobakevich started talking about his neighbor Plyushkin, an extremely stingy man who owns eighty peasants, who "starved all the people to death." Chichikov became interested. After dinner, when he heard that Chichikov wanted to buy dead souls, Sobakevich was not at all surprised: "It seemed that there was no soul in this body at all." He started haggling and broke the exorbitant price. He spoke of dead souls as if they were alive: “I have everything for selection: not an artisan, but some other healthy peasant”: Mikheev, a carriage worker, Stepan Cork, a carpenter, Milushkin, a bricklayer ... “After all, what a people!” Chichikov finally interrupted him: “But excuse me, why are you counting all their qualities? After all, these are all dead people. In the end, they agreed on three rubles a head and decided to be in the city the next day and deal with the bill of sale. Sobakevich demanded a deposit, Chichikov, in turn, insisted that Sobakevich give him a receipt and asked him not to tell anyone about the deal. "Fist, fist! thought Chichikov, "and a beast to boot!"

In order not to see Sobakevich, Chichikov went by a detour to Plyushkin. The peasant, whom Chichikov asks for directions to the estate, calls Plyushkin "patched". The chapter ends with a lyrical digression about the Russian language. “The Russian people express themselves strongly!.. Pronounced aptly, it’s like writing, it is not cut down with an ax ... the lively and lively Russian mind ... does not go into your pocket for a word, but slaps it right away, like a passport on an eternal sock ... no a word that would be so bold, briskly, so burst out from under the very heart, so seething and vibrant, like a well-spoken Russian word.

Chapter 6

The chapter opens with a lyrical digression about travel: “Long ago, in the summer of my youth, it was fun for me to drive up to an unfamiliar place for the first time, a childish curious look revealed a lot of curiosity in it ... Now I indifferently drive up to any unfamiliar village and indifferently look at its vulgar appearance, ... and indifferent silence keep my motionless lips. O my youth! O my freshness!

Laughing at Plyushkin's nickname, Chichikov imperceptibly found himself in the middle of a vast village. “He noticed some special dilapidation on all the village buildings: many roofs pierced through like a sieve ... The windows in the huts were without glass ...” Then the manor’s house appeared: “This strange castle looked like some kind of decrepit invalid ... In some places it was one story, in some places two... The walls of the house slitted bare stucco bars in places and, apparently, suffered a lot from all kinds of bad weather... The garden overlooking the village... it seemed that alone refreshed this vast village, and alone was quite picturesque...”

“Everything said that farming here once flowed on a vast scale, and everything looked cloudy now ... At one of the buildings, Chichikov noticed some kind of figure ... For a long time he could not recognize what gender the figure was: a woman or a peasant ... the dress is indefinite, there is a cap on the head, the dressing gown is sewn from no one knows what. Chichikov concluded that it must be the housekeeper. Entering the house, he “was struck by the disorder that appeared”: cobwebs all around, broken furniture, a pile of papers, “a glass with some kind of liquid and three flies ... a piece of rag”, dust, a pile of garbage in the middle of the room. The same housekeeper came in. Looking closer, Chichikov realized that it was more like a key keeper. Chichikov asked where the gentleman was. “What, father, are they blind, or what? - said the key. - And I'm the owner!

The author describes Plushkin's appearance and his history. “The chin protruded far forward, the small eyes had not yet gone out and were running from under high-growing eyebrows like mice”; the sleeves and upper skirts of the dressing gown were so “greasy and shiny that they looked like the yuft that goes on boots”, around the neck is not a stocking, not a garter, just not a tie. “But in front of him was not a beggar, in front of him was a landowner. This landowner had more than a thousand souls,” the pantries were full of grain, lots of linen, sheepskins, vegetables, crockery, and so on. But it seemed to Plyushkin that this was not enough. “Everything that came across to him: an old sole, a woman’s rag, an iron nail, a clay shard, he dragged everything to himself and put it in a pile.” “But there was a time when he was only a thrifty owner! He was married and a family man; mills were moving, cloth factories, carpentry machines, spinning mills were working ... Intelligence was visible in the eyes ... But the good housewife died, Plyushkin became more restless, more suspicious and meaner. He cursed his eldest daughter, who ran away and married an officer of the cavalry regiment. The youngest daughter died, and the son, sent to the city to be determined for the service, went to the military - and the house was completely empty.

His “savings” reached the point of absurdity (for several months he keeps a cracker from an Easter cake that his daughter brought him as a gift, he always knows how much liquor is left in the decanter, he writes neatly on paper, so that the lines run into each other). At first Chichikov did not know how to explain to him the reason for his visit. But, starting a conversation about Plyushkin's household, Chichikov found out that about one hundred and twenty serfs had died. Chichikov showed “a readiness to take upon himself the obligation to pay taxes for all the dead peasants. The proposal seemed to completely astonish Plyushkin. He couldn't speak for joy. Chichikov invited him to make a bill of sale and even undertook to bear all the expenses. Plyushkin, out of an excess of feelings, does not know how to treat his dear guest: he orders to put on a samovar, get spoiled crackers from the Easter cake, wants to treat him with a liquor, from which he pulled out "a goat and all sorts of rubbish." Chichikov refused such a treat in disgust.

“And a person could descend to such insignificance, pettiness, disgust! Could change like that!” - exclaims the author.

It turned out that Plyushkin had a lot of fugitive peasants. And Chichikov also acquired them, while Plyushkin bargained for every penny. To the great joy of the owner, Chichikov soon left "in the most cheerful mood": he acquired "more than two hundred people" from Plyushkin.

Chapter 7

The chapter opens with a sad lyrical discussion of two types of writers.

In the morning Chichikov thought about who the peasants were during his lifetime, whom he now owns (now he has four hundred dead souls). In order not to pay clerks, he himself began to build fortresses. At two o'clock everything was ready, and he went to the civil chamber. On the street, he ran into Manilov, who began to kiss and hug him. Together they went to the ward, where they turned to the official Ivan Antonovich with a person “called a jug snout”, to whom, in order to speed up the case, Chichikov gave a bribe. Sobakevich also sat here. Chichikov agreed to complete the deal during the day. The documents have been completed. After such a successful completion of affairs, the chairman suggested that we go to dinner with the chief of police. During dinner, tipsy and cheered up, the guests persuaded Chichikov not to leave and, in general, to marry here. Zakhmelev, Chichikov chatted about his "Kherson estate" and already believed everything he said.

Chapter 8

The whole city was discussing Chichikov's purchases. Some even offered their help in resettling the peasants, some even began to think that Chichikov was a millionaire, so they "fell in love with him even more sincerely." The inhabitants of the city lived in harmony with each other, many were not without education: "some read Karamzin, some" Moskovskie Vedomosti", some even did not read anything at all."

Chichikov made a special impression on the ladies. "The ladies of the city of N were what is called presentable." How to behave, keep the tone, maintain etiquette, and especially keep fashion in the very last detail - in this they were ahead of the ladies of St. Petersburg and even Moscow. The ladies of the city of N were distinguished by “extraordinary caution and decency in words and expressions. They never said: “I blew my nose”, “I sweated”, “I spat”, but they said: “I relieved my nose”, “I managed with a handkerchief”. The word "millionaire" had a magical effect on the ladies, one of them even sent a sugary love letter to Chichikov.

Chichikov was invited to the governor's ball. Before the ball, Chichikov looked at himself in the mirror for an hour, assuming significant poses. At the ball, being in the spotlight, he tried to guess the author of the letter. The governor introduced Chichikov to her daughter, and he recognized the girl whom he once met on the road: “she was the only one who turned white and came out transparent and bright from a muddy and opaque crowd.” The charming young girl made such an impression on Chichikov that he "felt like a completely something like a young man, almost a hussar." The rest of the ladies felt offended by his impoliteness and inattention to them and began to "talk about him in different corners in the most unfavorable way."

Nozdryov appeared and ingenuously told everyone that Chichikov had tried to buy dead souls from him. The ladies, as if not believing in the news, picked it up. Chichikov "began to feel uncomfortable, not all right" and, without waiting for the end of dinner, left. In the meantime, Korobochka arrived in the city at night and began to find out the prices for dead souls, fearing that she had sold too cheap.

Chapter 9

Early in the morning, before the scheduled time for visits, "a lady pleasant in every way" went to visit the "simply pleasant lady." The guest told the news: at night, Chichikov, disguised as a robber, came to Korobochka with a demand to sell him dead souls. The hostess remembered that she had heard something from Nozdryov, but the guest had her own thoughts: dead souls are just a cover, in fact Chichikov wants to kidnap the governor's daughter, and Nozdryov is his accomplice. Then they discussed the appearance of the governor's daughter and did not find anything attractive in her.

Then the prosecutor appeared, they told him about their findings, which completely confused him. The ladies parted in different directions, and now the news went around the city. Men turned their attention to the purchase of dead souls, while women began to discuss the "abduction" of the governor's daughter. Rumors were retold in houses where Chichikov had never even been. He was suspected of a rebellion by the peasants of the village of Borovka and that he had been sent for some kind of check. To top it off, the governor received two notices about a counterfeiter and an escaped robber with an order to detain both ... They began to suspect that one of them was Chichikov. Then they remembered that they knew almost nothing about him ... They tried to find out, but they did not achieve clarity. We decided to meet with the chief of police.

Chapter 10

All officials were concerned about the situation with Chichikov. Gathered at the police chief, many noticed that they were emaciated from the latest news.

The author makes a lyrical digression about "the peculiarities of holding conferences or charitable meetings": "... In all our meetings ... there is a lot of confusion ... Only those meetings that are made up in order to have a snack or dine succeed." But here it turned out quite differently. Some were inclined to believe that Chichikov was a doer of banknotes, and then they themselves added: "Or maybe not a doer." Others believed that he was an official of the Governor-General's Office and immediately: "But, by the way, the devil knows." And the postmaster said that Chichikov was Captain Kopeikin, and told the following story.

THE STORY ABOUT CAPTAIN KOPEIKIN

During the war of 1812, the captain's arm and leg were torn off. There were no orders for the wounded then, and he went home to his father. He refused him the house, saying that there was nothing to feed him, and Kopeikin went to seek the truth to the sovereign in St. Petersburg. Asked where to go. The sovereign was not in the capital, and Kopeikin went to the "high commission, to the general-in-chief." He waited for a long time in the waiting room, then they announced to him that he would come in three or four days. The next time the nobleman said that we had to wait for the king, without his special permission, he could not do anything.

Kopeikin was running out of money, he decided to go and explain that he could not wait any longer, he simply had nothing to eat. He was not allowed to see the nobleman, but he managed to slip with some visitor into the reception room. He explained that he was dying of hunger, but could not earn. The general rudely escorted him out and sent him at public expense to his place of residence. “Where Kopeikin went is unknown; but not even two months had passed when a gang of robbers appeared in the Ryazan forests, and the ataman of this gang was none other ... "

It occurred to the chief of police that Kopeikin had no arms and legs, while Chichikov had everything in place. They began to make other assumptions, even this one: “Isn’t Chichikov Napoleon in disguise?” We decided to ask Nozdryov again, although he is a well-known liar. He was just engaged in the manufacture of fake cards, but he came. He said that he had sold dead souls to Chichikov for several thousand, that he knew him from the school where they studied together, and Chichikov had been a spy and a counterfeiter since the time that Chichikov really was going to take away the governor's daughter and Nozdryov helped him. As a result, officials never found out who Chichikov was. Frightened by insoluble problems, the prosecutor died, he had a stroke.

“Chichikov knew absolutely nothing about all this, he caught a cold and decided to stay at home.” He couldn't understand why no one was visiting him. Three days later, he went out into the street and first of all went to the governor, but he was not received there, just like in many other houses. Nozdryov came and incidentally told Chichikov: “...everyone in the city is against you; they think that you are making fake papers... they have dressed you up as robbers and spies.” Chichikov did not believe his ears: "... there is nothing more to delay, you need to get out of here as soon as possible."
He sent Nozdryov out and ordered Selifan to prepare for his departure.

Chapter 11

The next morning everything went upside down. At first Chichikov overslept, then it turned out that the chaise was out of order and the horses needed to be shod. But now everything was settled, and Chichikov, with a sigh of relief, sat down in the britzka. On the way, he met a funeral procession (the prosecutor was buried). Chichikov hid behind a curtain, afraid that he would be recognized. Finally Chichikov left the city.

The author tells the story of Chichikov: “The origin of our hero is dark and modest ... At the beginning, life looked at him somehow sourly and uncomfortably: no friend, no comrade in childhood!” His father, a poor nobleman, was constantly ill. One day, his father took Pavlusha to the city, to determine the city school: “The city streets flashed in front of the boy with unexpected splendor.” When parting, the father “was given a clever instruction: “Learn, do not be a fool and do not hang out, but most of all please teachers and bosses. Don’t hang out with your comrades, or hang out with the rich, so that they can be useful to you on occasion ... most of all, take care and save a penny: this thing is more reliable than anything in the world ... You will do everything and break everything in the world with a penny.

“He didn’t have any special abilities for any science,” but he turned out to have a practical mind. He did so that his comrades treated him, and he not only never treated them. And sometimes even, having hidden treats, then he sold them to them. “From the fifty dollars given by my father, I didn’t spend a penny, on the contrary, I made increments to it: I made a bullfinch out of wax and sold it very profitably”; accidentally teased hungry comrades with gingerbread and rolls, and then sold them to them, trained a mouse for two months and then sold it very profitably. “In relation to the authorities, he behaved even smarter”: he fawned over the teachers, catered to them, therefore he was in excellent standing and as a result “received a certificate and a book with golden letters for exemplary diligence and trustworthy behavior.”

His father left him a small inheritance. “At the same time, the poor teacher was expelled from the school,” out of grief, he began to drink, drank everything and disappeared sick in some closet. All his former students collected money for him, but Chichikov dissuaded himself by lack of money and gave him some nickel of silver. “Everything that did not respond with wealth and contentment made an impression on him, incomprehensible to himself. He decided to take up the service hotly, to conquer and overcome everything ... From early morning until late evening he wrote, mired in stationery, did not go home, slept in the office rooms on tables ... He fell under the command of an elderly assistant, who was an image of what something of stone insensitivity and unshakability. Chichikov began to please him in everything, "sniffed out his home life", found out that he had an ugly daughter, began to come to church and stand in front of this girl. “And the case was a success: the stern clerk staggered and called him for tea!” He behaved like a fiancé, he called the intern “daddy” already, and through his future father-in-law he won the position of innkeeper. After that, "about the wedding, the matter was hushed up."

“Since then, everything has gone easier and more successfully. He became a conspicuous person ... in a short time he got a bread place ”and learned to deftly take bribes. Then he joined some kind of construction commission, but construction is not going “above the foundation”, but Chichikov managed to steal, like other members of the commission, significant funds. But suddenly a new boss was sent, an enemy of bribe-takers, and the officials of the commission were removed from their posts. Chichikov moved to another city and started from scratch. “He decided to get to the customs at all costs, and got there. He took up the service with unusual zeal. He became famous for his incorruptibility and honesty (“his honesty and incorruptibility were irresistible, almost unnatural”), he achieved a promotion. Having waited for the right moment, Chichikov received funds to carry out his project to catch all the smugglers. "Here in one year he could get what he would not have won in twenty years of the most zealous service." Having agreed with one official, he took up smuggling. Everything went smoothly, the accomplices grew rich, but suddenly they quarreled and both were put on trial. The property was confiscated, but Chichikov managed to save ten thousand, a cart and two serfs. And so he started again. As an attorney, he had to mortgage one estate, and then it dawned on him that you can mortgage dead souls in a bank, take a loan against them and hide. And he went to buy them in the city of N.

“So, our hero is all there ... Who is he in relation to moral qualities? Scoundrel? Why a scoundrel? Now we don’t have scoundrels, there are well-intentioned, pleasant people ... It’s most fair to call him: the owner, the acquirer ... And which of you is not publicly, but in silence, alone, deepens this heavy request into his own soul: “But no Is there some part of Chichikov in me too?” Yes, no matter how!”

Meanwhile, Chichikov woke up, and the britzka rushed faster, “And what kind of Russian person does not like to drive fast? .. Isn’t it true that you, Rus, are rushing about in a brisk, unbeaten troika? Russia, where are you going? Give an answer. Doesn't give an answer. A bell is filled with a wonderful ringing; the air torn to pieces rumbles and becomes the wind; everything that is on earth flies past, and, looking sideways, step aside and give it way to other peoples and states.

At the gates of the hotel in the provincial town of nn drove a rather beautiful spring small britzka, 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 hand. 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. 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 the back almost at the very back of his head, shook out 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 cities, 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 had not been 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 are these common halls - every passing one knows very well: the same walls, painted with oil paint, darkened at the top from pipe smoke and greasy from below with the backs of various travelers, and even more native merchants, for merchants on trading days came here on their own 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 scarf of rainbow colors, 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 sex, to tell all sorts of nonsense - about who kept the tavern before and who now, and how much income they make, 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, going down the stairs, the floorman 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 slanting legs, which had just made an entrechat 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 Zyablov's maiden, 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 anything there, but, finding nothing, he rubbed his eyes, folded 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.

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 the back almost at the very back of his head, shook out 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 cities, 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 had not been 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 like, anyone passing by knows very well: the same walls, painted with oil paint, darkened at the top from pipe smoke and greasy from below with the backs of various travelers, and even more native merchants, for merchants on trading days came here on their own 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 sex, 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's 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 flashed and rushed apart and in heaps here and there, like flies on a white shining refined sugar during the hot July summer, when the old housekeeper cuts and divides it into sparkling fragments in front of an 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 laying out delicious dishes at every step, they flew in not at all to eat, but only to show themselves, to walk up and down the sugar heap, to rub their hind 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 did not wear hair on their heads either in tufts or curls, nor in the manner of "damn it to 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, the 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 was considering society, and the consequence of this was that he finally joined the fat ones, where he met almost all familiar faces: a 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 do it 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 is hardly anywhere to be found in response to the foot, especially at the present time, when heroes are beginning to appear in Russia. 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 quite 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 for 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.

For more than a century and a half, interest in the amazing work written by N.V. Gogol has not disappeared. "Dead Souls" (a brief retelling of the chapters is given below) is a poem about modern Russia for the writer, its vices and shortcomings. Unfortunately, many things described in the first half of the 19th century by Nikolai Vasilyevich still exist, which makes the work relevant today.

Chapter 1. Acquaintance with Chichikov

A britzka drove into the provincial town of NN, in which a gentleman of ordinary appearance was sitting. She stopped at a tavern where she could rent a room for two rubles. Selifan, the coachman, and Petrushka, the footman, brought into the room a suitcase and a chest, whose appearance indicated that they were often on the road. So you can start a brief retelling of "Dead Souls".

Chapter 1 introduces the reader to the visitor - collegiate adviser Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov. He immediately went to the hall, where he ordered dinner and began to question the servant about local officials and landowners. And the next day, the hero paid visits to all important people in the city, including the governor. When meeting, Pavel Ivanovich reported that he was looking for a new place of residence for himself. He made a very pleasant impression, as he could flatter and show respect to everyone. As a result, Chichikov immediately received a lot of invitations: to a party with the governor and for tea with other officials.

A brief retelling of the first chapter of "Dead Souls" continues with a description of the reception at the mayor. The author gives an eloquent assessment of the high society of the city of NN, comparing the governor's guests with flies hovering over refined sugar. Gogol also notes that all men here, however, as elsewhere, were divided into "thin" and "thick" - he attributed the main character to the latter. The position of the former was unstable and unstable. But the latter, if they sit somewhere, then forever.

For Chichikov, the evening was beneficial: he met the wealthy landowners Manilov and Sobakevich and received an invitation from them to visit. The main question that interested Pavel Ivanovich in a conversation with them was how many souls they have.

In the next few days, the visitor visited the officials and charmed all the noble inhabitants of the city.

Chapter 2

More than a week passed, and Chichikov finally decided to visit Manilov and Sobakevich.

A brief retelling of Chapter 2 of Dead Souls should begin with a description of the hero's servant. Petrushka was not talkative, but he liked to read. He also never undressed and wore his own special smell everywhere, which caused Chichikov's displeasure. This is what the author writes about him.

But back to the hero. He traveled quite a lot before he saw the Manilov estate. The two-story manor house stood alone on a turf-decorated jura. It was surrounded by shrubs, flower beds, a pond. Particular attention was drawn to the pavilion with a strange inscription "Temple of solitary reflection." The peasant huts looked gray and neglected.

A brief retelling of "Dead Souls" continues with a description of the meeting of the host and guest. Smiling Manilov kissed Pavel Ivanovich and invited him into the house, which was just as unfurnished inside as the whole estate. So, one chair was not upholstered, and on the windowsill in the office the owner was laying out mounds of ashes from a pipe. The landowner kept dreaming about some projects that remained unrealized. At the same time, he did not notice that his economy was increasingly falling into decay.

Gogol especially notes Manilov's relationship with his wife: they cooed, trying to please each other in everything. The officials of the city were the most beautiful people for them. And they gave their children strange ancient names, and at dinner everyone tried to show their education. In general, talking about the landowner, the author emphasizes the following idea: so much sugariness emanated from the external appearance of the owner that the first impression of his attractiveness quickly changed. And by the end of the meeting, it already seemed that Manilov was neither one nor the other. This characterization of this hero is given by the author.

But let's continue with the shortest retelling. Dead souls soon became the subject of conversation between the guest and Manilov. Chichikov asked to sell him the dead peasants, who, according to the audit documents, were still considered alive. The owner was at first confused, and then gave them to the guest just like that. There was no way he could take money from such a good man.

Chapter 3

Saying goodbye to Manilov, Chichikov went to Sobakevich. But along the way, he got lost, got caught in the rain, and after dark ended up in some village. He was met by the hostess herself - Nastasya Petrovna Korobochka.

The hero slept well on a soft feather bed and, waking up, noticed his cleaned dress. Through the window, he saw many birds and strong peasant huts. The decor of the room and the behavior of the hostess testified to her frugality and economy.

During breakfast, Chichikov, without ceremony, started talking about the dead peasants. At first, Nastasya Petrovna did not understand how it was possible to sell a non-existent product. Then she was afraid to sell everything, saying that the business was new for her. The box was not as simple as it seemed at first, - a brief retelling of "Dead Souls" leads to such an idea. Chapter 3 ends with Chichikov promising the landowner to buy honey and hemp in the fall. After that, the guest and the hostess finally agreed on a price and concluded a bill of sale.

Chapter 4

The road was so washed out from the rain that by noon the carriage got out onto the pole. Chichikov decided to stop by the tavern, where he met Nozdryov. They met at the prosecutor's, and now the landowner behaved as if Pavel Ivanovich was his best friend. Having no way to get rid of Nozdryov, the hero went to his estate. You will learn about the trouble that came out there if you read the further brief retelling of Dead Souls.

Chapter 4 introduces the reader to the landowner, who has earned the fame of a brawler and instigator of scandals, a gambler and a money changer. "Svintus" and other similar words were common in his vocabulary. Not a single meeting with this man ended peacefully, and most of all went to people who had the misfortune to get to know him closely.

Upon arrival, Nozdryov took his son-in-law and Chichikov to look at the empty stalls, the kennel, and the fields. Our hero felt overwhelmed and disappointed. But the main thing was ahead. At dinner there was a quarrel, which was continued the next morning. As the shortest retelling shows, dead souls were the cause. When Chichikov started a conversation, for which he went to the landowners, Nozdryov easily promised to give him non-existent peasants. The guest was only required to buy from him a horse, a hurdy-gurdy and a dog. And in the morning the owner offered to play checkers for souls and began to cheat. Pavel Ivanovich, who discovered this, was almost beaten. It is difficult to describe how delighted he was at the appearance in the house of the police captain, who had come to arrest Nozdryov.

Chapter 5

On the way there was another trouble. The unreasonableness of Selifan caused Chichikov's carriage to collide with another cart, which was harnessed by six horses. The peasants who came running from the village took part in unraveling the horses. And the hero himself drew attention to a sweet blond young lady sitting in a stroller.

A brief retelling of Gogol's "Dead Souls" continues with a description of the meeting with Sobakevich, which finally took place. The village and the house that appeared before the eyes of the hero were great. Everything was good quality and durable. The landowner himself resembled a bear: both in appearance, and in gait, and in the color of his clothes. And all the objects in the house looked like the owner. Sobakevich was laconic. He ate a lot at dinner, and spoke negatively about the mayors.

He took the offer to sell dead souls calmly and immediately set a rather high price (two rubles and a half), since all the peasants were recorded with him and each of them had some special quality. The guest did not like it very much, but he accepted the conditions.

Then Pavel Ivanovich went to Plyushkin, whom he learned about from Sobakevich. According to the latter, his peasants were dying like flies, and the hero hoped to profitably acquire them. The correctness of this decision is confirmed by a brief retelling ("Dead Souls").

Chapter 6 patched

Such a nickname was given to the master by a peasant, whom Chichikov asked for directions. And Plyushkin's appearance fully justified him.

Having passed through strange dilapidated streets, which spoke of the fact that there was once a strong economy here, the carriage stopped at the manor's invalid house. A certain creature was standing in the yard and quarreling with a peasant. It was impossible to immediately determine his gender and position. Seeing a bunch of keys on his belt, Chichikov decided that it was a housekeeper and ordered the owner to be called. What was his surprise when he found out: in front of him was one of the richest landowners in the district. In Plyushkin's appearance, Gogol draws attention to the lively shifty eyes.

A brief retelling of "Dead Souls" chapter by chapter allows us to note only the essential features of the landowners who became the heroes of the poem. Plyushkin is distinguished by the fact that the author tells the story of his life. Once he was a frugal and hospitable host. However, after the death of his wife, Plyushkin became more and more stingy. As a result, the son shot himself, as the father did not help pay the debts. One daughter ran away and was cursed, the other died. Over the years, the landowner turned into such a miser that he picked up all the garbage on the street. He and his household turned into rot. Gogol calls Plyushkin "a hole in humanity", the reason for which, unfortunately, can not be fully explained by a brief retelling.

Dead souls Chichikov bought from the landowner at a very favorable price for himself. It was enough to tell Plyushkin that this exempted him from paying duties for the peasants who had not existed for a long time, as he gladly agreed to everything.

Chapter 7. Paperwork

Chichikov, who returned to the city, woke up in the morning in a good mood. He immediately rushed to review the lists of purchased souls. He was especially interested in the paper compiled by Sobakevich. The landowner gave a complete description of each peasant. Before the hero, the Russian peasants seem to come to life, in connection with which he indulges in reasoning about their difficult fate. Everyone, as a rule, has one fate - to pull the strap until the end of their days. Recollecting himself, Pavel Ivanovich got ready to go to the ward for paperwork.

A brief retelling of "Dead Souls" takes the reader into the world of officials. On the street Chichikov met Manilov, still as caring and good-natured. And in the ward, to his happiness, was Sobakevich. Pavel Ivanovich walked from one office to another for a long time and patiently explained the purpose of his visit. Finally, he gave a bribe, and the case was immediately completed. And the legend of the hero that he takes the peasants for export to the Kherson province did not raise questions from anyone. At the end of the day, everyone went to the chairman, where they drank to the health of the new landowner, wished him good luck and promised to find a bride.

Chapter 8

Rumors of a large purchase of peasants soon spread throughout the city, and Chichikov began to be considered a millionaire. Everywhere he was given signs of attention, especially since the hero, as a brief retelling of "Dead Souls" chapter by chapter shows, could easily endear people to him. However, the unexpected soon happened.

The governor gave a ball, and, of course, Pavel Ivanovich was in the center of attention. Now everyone wants to please him. Suddenly, the hero noticed the very young lady (she turned out to be the daughter of the governor), whom he met on the way from Korobochka to Nozdryov. Even at the first meeting, she charmed Chichikov. And now all the attention of the hero was drawn to the girl, which caused the anger of other ladies. They suddenly saw in Pavel Ivanovich a terrible enemy.

The second trouble that happened that day was that Nozdryov appeared at the ball and began to talk about the fact that Chichikov was buying up the souls of dead peasants. And although no one attached importance to his words, Pavel Ivanovich felt uncomfortable all evening and returned to his room ahead of time.

After the guest's departure, the box kept wondering if it was cheap. Exhausted, the landowner decided to go to the city to find out how much the dead peasants are selling now. The next chapter (its brief retelling) will tell about the consequences of this. "Dead Souls" Gogol continues with a description of how unsuccessfully events began to develop for the protagonist.

Chapter 9 Chichikov at the center of the scandal

The next morning, two ladies met: one is simply pleasant, the other is pleasant in every way. They discussed the latest news, the main of which was Korobochka's story. Let's give a very brief retelling of it (this was directly related to dead souls).

According to the guest, the first lady, Nastasya Petrovna stopped at the house of her friend. It was she who told her about how the armed Pavel Ivanovich appeared at the estate at night and began to demand that the souls of the dead be sold to him. The second lady added that her husband had heard about such a purchase from Nozdryov. After discussing the incident, the women decided that all this was just a cover. The true goal of Chichikov is to kidnap the governor's daughter. They immediately shared their guess with the prosecutor who entered the room and went to the city. Soon all its inhabitants were divided into two halves. The ladies discussed the version of the kidnapping, and the men - the purchase of dead souls. The governor's wife ordered Chichikov's servants not to be allowed on the threshold. And the officials gathered at the police chief and tried to find an explanation for what had happened.

Chapter 10 The story of Kopeikin

We went over many options for who Pavel Ivanovich could be. Suddenly the postmaster exclaimed: "Captain Kopeikin!" And he told the story of the life of a mysterious man, about whom those present knew nothing. It is with her that we continue a brief retelling of the 10th chapter of Dead Souls.

In 1912, Kopeikin lost an arm and a leg in the war. He could not earn money himself, and therefore he went to the capital to ask for well-deserved help from the monarch. In St. Petersburg he stopped at a tavern, found a commission and began to wait for an appointment. The nobleman immediately noticed the disabled person and, having learned about his problem, advised him to come in a few days. The next time he assured me that soon everything would certainly be decided and a pension would be appointed. And at the third meeting, Kopeikin, who had not received anything, made a fuss and was expelled from the city. No one knew exactly where the disabled person was taken. But when a gang of robbers appeared in the Ryazan region, everyone decided that its leader was none other than ... Further, all the officials agreed that Chichikov could not be Kopeikin: he had both an arm and a leg in place. Someone suggested that Pavel Ivanovich was Napoleon. After some more discussion, the officials dispersed. And the prosecutor, having come home, died of shock. On this, a brief retelling of "Dead Souls" comes to an end.

All this time, the perpetrator of the scandal sat in the sick room and was surprised that no one was visiting him. Feeling a little better, he decided to go on visits. But the governor Pavel Ivanovich was not accepted, and the rest obviously avoided the meeting. Everything was explained by Nozdryov's arrival at the hotel. It was he who said that Chichikov was accused of preparing the kidnapping and making false banknotes. Pavel Ivanovich immediately ordered Petrushka and Selifan to prepare for their departure early in the morning.

Chapter 11

However, the hero woke up later than planned. Then Selifan declared that it was necessary. Finally, they set off and on the way they met a funeral procession - they were burying the prosecutor. Chichikov hid behind a curtain and secretly examined the officials. But they didn't even notice him. Now they were worried about something else: what would be the new governor-general. As a result, the hero decided that it was good to meet the funeral. And the carriage moved forward. And the author cites the life story of Pavel Ivanovich (hereinafter we will give a brief retelling of it). Dead souls (Chapter 11 points to this) came to Chichikov's head not by chance.

Pavlusha's childhood can hardly be called happy. His mother died early, and his father often punished him. Then Chichikov Sr. took his son to the city school and left him to live with a relative. At parting, he gave some advice. Please teachers. Be friends only with rich classmates. Do not treat anyone, but arrange everything so that they treat themselves. And most importantly - save a penny. Pavlusha fulfilled all the precepts of his father. To the fifty kopeck left at parting, he soon added his earned money. He conquered the teachers with diligence: no one could sit so roughly in the lessons as he did. And although he received a good certificate, he began to work from the bottom. In addition, after the death of his father, only a dilapidated house was inherited, which Chichikov sold for a thousand, and servants.

Having entered the service, Pavel Ivanovich showed incredible zeal: he worked a lot, slept in the office. At the same time, he always looked great and pleased everyone. Upon learning that the boss has a daughter, he began to look after her, and things even went to the wedding. But as soon as Chichikov was promoted, he moved out from the boss to another apartment, and soon everyone somehow forgot about the engagement. It was the most difficult step on the way to the goal. And the hero dreamed of great wealth and an important place in society.

When the fight against bribery began, Pavel Ivanovich made his first fortune. But he did everything through secretaries and clerks, so he himself remained clean and earned a reputation with the leadership. Thanks to this, he was able to settle down for construction - instead of the planned buildings, officials, including the hero, got new houses. But here Chichikov failed: the arrival of a new boss deprived him of both his position and his fortune.

Career began to build from the very beginning. Miraculously got to customs - a fertile place. Thanks to his diligence and servility, he achieved a lot. But suddenly he quarreled with a fellow official (they did business with smugglers together), and he wrote a denunciation. Pavel Ivanovich was again left with nothing. He managed to hide only ten thousand and two servants.

The way out of the situation was suggested by the secretary of the office, in which Chichikov, on duty of the new service, was supposed to mortgage the estate. When it came to the number of peasants, the official remarked: “They have died, but they are still on the revision lists. Some will not be, others will be born - everything is good for business. It was then that the idea came to buy dead souls. It will be difficult to prove that there are no peasants: Chichikov purchased them for export. For this, he also acquired land in the Kherson province in advance. And the board of trustees will give two hundred rubles for every registered soul. Here is the state. So the reader is revealed the intention of the protagonist and the essence of all his actions. The main thing is to be careful, and everything will work out. The carriage rushed on, and Chichikov, who loved fast driving, only smiled.

Current page: 1 (the book has 19 pages in total)

Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol
Dead Souls

© Voropaev V. A., 2001

© I. A. Vinogradov, V. A. Voropaev, comments, 2001

© Laptev A. M., heirs, illustrations

© Design of the series. Publishing house "Children's Literature", 2001

* * *

To the reader from the writer

Whoever you are, my reader, no matter where you stand, no matter what rank you are, whether you are honored with the highest rank or a person of a simple class, but if God has enlightened you with literacy and my book has already fallen into your hands, I ask you help me.

In the book before you, which you have probably already read in its first edition, there is a picture of a man taken from our own state. He travels around our Russian land, meets people of all classes, from the noble to the simple. He was taken more in order to show the shortcomings and vices of the Russian person, and not his virtues and virtues, and all the people who surround him are also taken in order to show our weaknesses and shortcomings; the best people and characters will be in other parts. In this book, much is described incorrectly, not as it is and as it really happens in the Russian land, because I could not find out everything: a person’s life is not enough to find out for one and a hundredth part of what is being done in our land. Moreover, from my own oversight, immaturity and haste, a lot of all sorts of errors and omissions have occurred, so that there is something to correct on every page: I ask you, reader, to correct me. Don't neglect this. No matter how high education and high life you yourself are, and no matter how insignificant my book may seem in your eyes, and no matter how small it seems to you to correct it and write comments on it, I ask you to do this. And you, a reader of low education and a simple rank, do not consider yourself so ignorant that you cannot teach me something. Every person who has lived and seen the world and met people has noticed something that the other did not notice, and learned something that others do not know. Therefore, do not deprive me of your remarks: it cannot be that you would not find something to say at some place in the whole book, if you only read it carefully.

How good it would be, for example, if at least one of those who are rich in experience and knowledge of life and know the circle of those people whom I have described would make his notes entirely on the whole book, without missing a single page of it, and would begin to read her only to take up a pen and put a sheet of note paper in front of him, and after reading a few pages, he would remember his whole life and all the people he met, and all the events that happened before his eyes, and everything that he saw himself or what he heard from others similar to what is depicted in my book, or the opposite of that, would describe everything in such an exact form in which it appeared to his memory, and would send me every sheet as it is written out until he has read the whole book in this way. What a bloody service he would render me! There is nothing to worry about the style or beauty of expressions; the thing is deed and in truth deeds, not in a syllable. He also has nothing to do before me if he wanted to reproach me, or scold me, or point out to me the harm that I did instead of good by a thoughtless and incorrect image of anything. I will be grateful to him for everything.

It would also be good if someone were found from the class of the highest, remote by everything and by life itself and education from that circle of people that is depicted in my book, but who knows the life of that class among which he lives, and would decide to read it again in the same way my book and mentally remember all the people of the higher class whom I met in my life, and consider carefully whether there is any rapprochement between these classes and whether sometimes the same thing is repeated in the higher circle, which is done in the lower one? and everything that would come to his mind on this subject, that is, any incident of the highest circle, serving to confirm or refute it, would describe how it happened before his eyes, without missing people with their manners, inclinations and habits, nor the soulless things that surround them, from clothes to furniture and walls of houses in which they live. I need to know this estate, which is the color of the people. I cannot give out the last volumes of my work until I somehow get to know Russian life from all its sides, although to the extent that I need to know it for my work.

It would also not be bad if someone who was endowed with the ability to imagine or vividly imagine the various situations of people and pursue them mentally in different fields - in a word, who is able to delve into the thought of any author he reads or develop it, would closely follow every face , derived in my book, and would tell me how it should act in such and such cases, what, judging by the beginning, should happen to it further, what new circumstances might present itself to it, and what it would be good to add to what is already described by me; I would like to take all this into consideration by the time a new edition of this book follows, in a different and better form.

I strongly ask one thing who would like to endow me with his remarks: do not think at this time how he will write, that he writes them for a person equal in education to him, who has the same tastes and thoughts as him and can already understand a lot himself without explanation; but instead of imagining that before him stands a man who is incomparably inferior to him in education, who has learned almost nothing. It would even be better if, instead of me, he imagines some village savage, whose whole life has passed in the wilderness, with whom you need to go into the most detailed explanation of every circumstance and be simple in speeches, as with a child, fearing every minute not to use expressions beyond him. concepts. If this is constantly kept in mind by the one who begins to make comments on my book, then his remarks will come out more significant and curious than he himself thinks, and they will be of real benefit to me.

So, if it happened that my heartfelt request would be respected by my readers and there would be really such good souls among them who would want to do everything the way I want, then this is how they can send their comments: having first made a packet on my name, wrap it later in another package, or in the name of the rector of St. Petersburg University, His Excellency Pyotr Aleksandrovich Pletnev, addressing directly to St. Petersburg University, or in the name of a professor at Moscow University, his honor Stepan Petrovich Shevyrev, addressing to Moscow University, depending on which city is closer to whom.

And to all, both journalists and writers in general, I sincerely thank you for all their previous reviews of my book, which, despite some immoderation and hobbies inherent in man, nevertheless brought great benefit both to my head and to my soul, I ask do not leave me this time with your comments. I sincerely assure you that whatever they say for my admonition or instruction will be accepted by me with gratitude.

Chapter one

A rather beautiful spring small britzka drove into the gates of the hotel of the provincial city NN 1
chaise- a light semi-covered wagon with a folding leather top.

Which bachelors go to: retired lieutenant colonels, staff captains 2
Staff captain- an officer rank in the infantry, artillery and engineering troops, above the lieutenant and below the captain. Introduced 1801

The landlords, who have 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 in white canine 3
canifas- dense linen fabric, usually striped.

Pants, very narrow and short, in a tailcoat with an attempt on fashion, from under which a shirt-front was visible 4
Dickey- a starched bib, mostly made of white fabric, attached or sewn to a man's shirt.

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 jersey 5
Demikoton- dense cotton fabric.

A frock coat with a back almost at the very back of the head, shook out his hair and deftly 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 cities, 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 had not been 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 are these common halls - every passing one knows very well: the same walls, painted with oil paint, darkened at the top from pipe smoke and greasy from below with the backs of various travelers, and even more native merchants, for merchants on trading days came here on their own pole and on their own - here to drink your famous pair of tea 6
A couple of tea.- Tea in taverns was served in two porcelain teapots: a large one with boiling water and a small one with tea leaves.

; 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 those passing through for several weeks, brains with peas, sausages with cabbage, poulard 7
pulyarka- a young fattened chicken.

Fried, pickled cucumber and eternal puff pastry, always ready to serve; while all this was served to him, both warmed up and simply cold, he forced the servant, or sex, 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 8
Ward- the name of many administrative institutions; there were chambers: treasury (departments of the Ministry of Finance), civil (the highest judicial institution in the province), etc.

Who is the prosecutor - in a word, 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 9
... the drama of Mr. Kotzebue ...Kotzebue August(1761-1819) - German playwright, author of many sentimental and melodramatic plays. The drama in question, in Russian translation, was called "Gishpans in Peru, or Death of Rolls" (about the conquest of America by the Spaniards).

In which Mr. Poplevin played Roll, and Zyablov's maiden Koru, the 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 10
a bottle of sour cabbage soup ...Sour cabbage soup- here: a soft drink like fizzy kvass, made from rye and barley malt and wheat flour.

And 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 11
... had Anna around his neck ...- Order of St. Anne 2nd degree in the form of a cross, worn "on the neck", that is, on the uniform at the collar.

And they even said that he was introduced to the star 12
...introduced to the star...- to the Order of St. Stanislaus 1st degree.

; 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 13
police chief- City Police Chief.

At the farmer 14
farmer- a private person who received from the state for a fee the right to monopoly trade.

The head of the 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 same day to a house party, other officials, too, for their part, some for lunch, some for a Boston party 15
bostonchik- Boston, a commercial (non-gambling) card game that was calm and not associated with a big loss.

Who's 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 unworthy of being cared for a lot, that he had experienced a lot in his lifetime, suffered in the service of the truth, had many enemies who even attempted on his life, and now, wanting to calm down, he is finally looking to choose a place to live, and that, having arrived in this city, he considered it an indispensable duty to pay his respects 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; carriage with lanterns, in front of the entrance two gendarmes, postillion 16
postilion- a rider who controls the front pair of horses harnessed by a train.

Screams 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 flashed and rushed apart and in heaps here and there, like flies on a white shining refined sugar during the hot July summer, when the old housekeeper cuts and divides it into sparkling fragments in front of an 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 laying out delicious dishes at every step, they flew in not at all to eat, but only to show themselves, to walk up and down the sugar heap, to rub their hind 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. 17
Whist- a commercial card game in which four people participated. They usually played at a table covered with green cloth, on which bribes were written with chalk.

Their faces were full and round, some even had warts, some were pockmarked, they did not wear hair on their heads either in tufts or curls, nor in the manner of “damn me”, as the French say - their hair were either cut short or sleek, 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 somewhere at the end of the city a house bought in the name of his wife appeared, then at the other end 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, the 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 was considering society, and the consequence of this was that he finally joined the fat ones, where he met almost all familiar faces: a 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; chairman of the chamber, a very sensible and amiable person, who all greeted him as if they were an old acquaintance, to which Chichikov 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 do it 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 Russia.

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; at a snack after mass, given by the mayor 18
city ​​head(head) - an elected representative of the merchants.

Which was also worth the lunch. 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 19
Treasury Chamber- “Keeps state contracts, auctions and everything that now constitutes the chamber of state property: the government of state peasants, quitrent articles - in the return of meadows, lands, mills, fisheries for a contract. The source of all bribes from the contractor ”(from Gogol’s notebook).

, - 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 a good 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 wife of the chief of police - that he is the most kind and courteous person. Even Sobakevich himself, who rarely spoke of anyone in a good way, having arrived quite late from the city and already completely undressed and lay down on the bed next to his thin wife, said to her: dined, and met with a collegiate adviser 20
Collegiate Advisor.- According to the Table of Ranks introduced by Peter I in 1722, civil servants were divided into fourteen classes: 1st (highest rank) - chancellor, 2nd - real privy councillor, 3rd - privy councilor, 4th - active state councilor, 5th - state councilor, 6th - collegiate adviser, 7th - court councilor, 8th - collegiate assessor, 9th - titular councilor, 10th - collegiate secretary, 11th - ship secretary, 12th - provincial secretary, 13th - provincial secretary, Senate, Synod registrar, 14th (the most junior rank) - collegiate registrar. A collegiate adviser was equated with the rank of colonel in military service.

Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov: a pleasant person! To which the wife replied: “Hm!” and kicked him with her foot.