N.V. Gogol. The author published it in 1842. He originally planned a three-volume work. In 1842 the first volume was published. However, the second, almost finished, was destroyed by the writer himself (several chapters from it were preserved in the drafts). The third was not even started, there is only isolated information about it. Therefore, we will consider Chichikov’s attitude towards Nozdryov only on the basis of the first volume of the work. Let's start by getting to know these heroes.
Who are Chichikov and Nozdryov?
Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov is a former official, and now a schemer. This retired collegiate adviser was engaged in buying up “dead souls” (that is, written evidence of deceased peasants) in order to mortgage them as if they were alive, obtain a bank loan and gain influence in society. He takes care of himself and dresses smartly. Chichikov even after the dusty and long journey manages to look as if he had just been to a barber and tailor.
Nozdryov is a 35-year-old dashing "talker, reveler, reckless driver." This is the third landowner in the work with whom Chichikov decided to start bargaining over dead souls. Let's try to answer the question of how Chichikov treated Nozdryov. To do this, you should trace the entire history of their relationship.
Acquaintance of Chichikov with Nozdrev
In the first chapter of the work, they meet during lunch with the prosecutor. Then the heroes accidentally encounter each other in a tavern (chapter four). Chichikov travels from Korobochka to Sobakevich. In turn, Nozdryov, together with Mezhuev, his son-in-law, returns from the fair, where he lost and drank everything, including the crew. The landowner immediately lures Gogol's swindler to his estate. It is clear what Chichikov wanted from the landowner Nozdryov, why he agreed to go with him - he was interested in “dead souls”.
Having delivered the guests, the landowner immediately begins to show the farm. Nozdryov starts with the stables, then talks about the wolf cub who lives with him and eats only raw meat. Then the landowner moves on to the pond. Here, according to his stories, there are fish that only two fishermen together can pull out. This is followed by a show of the kennel, where Nozdryov looks like a “father of the family” among the dogs. After this, the guests go to the field, where, of course, they catch the hare with their hands. It is clear that Chichikov’s attitude towards the landowner Nozdryov after all this boasting is unlikely to be positive. After all, this hero is very insightful.
Drinking and its consequences
The landowner is not very concerned about dinner. Only at 5 o'clock do guests sit down at the table. He explains that food is not the main thing in his life. But Nozdryov has a lot of drinks, and he doesn’t have enough of the ones he has and he invents his own incredible “compositions” (champagne and bourgoignon together, rowan, which tastes like fusel, “with the taste of cream”). At the same time, the landowner spares himself. Chichikov, noticing this, quietly pours out his glasses too.
Nevertheless, the owner, who “spared” himself, appears to him the next morning in only a robe and with a pipe in his mouth. He assures, as a hussar hero should, that “the squadron spent the night” in his mouth. It doesn’t matter at all whether you have a hangover or not. The only important thing is that a decent reveler must certainly suffer from it. What was Nozdryov’s attitude towards Chichikov? It is best revealed by the quarrel that occurred during the bargaining.
Chichikov's quarrel with Nozdrev
The motive of this false hangover is important to the author in another respect. During the bargaining that took place the night before, Nozdryov had a big quarrel with Chichikov. The fact is that he refused to play cards for “dead souls”, and also to buy a stallion of real “Arab blood”, and receive souls “in addition”. Nozdryov's attitude to Chichikov's proposal, therefore, requires justification. However, the landowner’s evening cockiness cannot be attributed to alcohol, just as the morning peacefulness cannot be explained by forgetting what was done in a drunken stupor. Nozdryov is guided in his actions by only one thing spiritual quality: recklessness bordering on unconsciousness.
Game of checkers for souls
The landowner does not plan, does not conceive anything, he simply does not know the measure of anything. Chichikov, having agreed (very recklessly) to play checkers to his heart's content (since checkers are not marked), almost becomes a victim of Nozdryov's revelry. The souls at stake are valued at 100 rubles. The landowner moves 3 checkers at once with his sleeve and thus moves one of them into kings. Chichikov has no choice but to mix the figures.
The game of souls emphasizes the essence of both heroes, and does not simply reveal how Chichikov treated the landowner Nozdryov. The latter asks for 100 rubles for the souls, and Chichikov wants to reduce the price to 50. Nozdryov’s attitude to Chichikov’s proposal is as follows: he asks to include some kind of puppy in the same amount. This landowner, being an incorrigible gambler, does not play for the sake of winning at all - he is interested in the process itself. Nozdryov is annoyed and angry at the loss. The ending of the game is predictable and familiar - it is a conflict turning into a fight.
Chichikov's escape
Chichikov, at the same time, thinks primarily not about physical pain, but about the fact that the courtyard people will witness this unpleasant scene. But the reputation should be maintained by all possible means. The hero resolves the conflict that threatens his image in the usual way - he flees. Subsequently, when the whole city becomes aware of the purchase of “dead souls,” he does the same. Chichikov’s attitude towards Nozdrev, their cheating deal is a parody of entrepreneurial activity. She complements the characteristics of both characters, demonstrating the vulgarity and baseness of the “middle-class” gentlemen.
It seems that reprisal against Chichikov is inevitable. The landowner shouts in excitement: “Beat him!” The guest is saved only by the appearance of the police captain, a formidable man with a huge mustache.
Scene at the governor's ball and Nozdryov's visit
Chichikov hopes that he will never see Nozdryov again. However, these heroes will meet twice more. One of the meetings takes place at the governor’s ball (chapter eight). In this scene, the buyer of “dead souls” was almost killed. Nozdryov, unexpectedly encountering him, shouts at the top of his voice that this is a “Kherson landowner” who “trades dead souls". This gives rise to many incredible rumors. When, completely confused in various versions, officials of the city of NN call on Nozdryov, he, not at all embarrassed by the contradictory nature of all these opinions, confirms them all (ninth chapter). Chichikov allegedly bought dead souls worth several thousand, he is a counterfeiter and a spy, he tried to take away the governor’s daughter, and priest Nozdryov was supposed to marry the newlyweds for 75 rubles. He even confirms that Chichikov is Napoleon.
In the tenth chapter, the landowner himself informs Chichikov about these rumors, to whom he pays a visit without an invitation. Nozdryov, having once again forgotten about his grievance, offers him help in “taking away” the governor’s daughter, and for only 3,000 rubles.
Nozdryov's inner world
This landowner, like other heroes of Gogol’s poem, seems to transfer the outlines of his own soul onto the outlines of everyday life. Everything in his house is arranged in a stupid way. Wooden trestles stand in the middle of the dining room, there are no papers or books in the office, supposedly Turkish daggers hang on the wall (Chichikov sees the name of the master on one of them - Savely Sibiryakov). Nozdryov calls his favorite organ an organ.
Gogol compares the depraved and upset soul of the landowner with this spoiled organ-organ, which played not without pleasantness, but in the middle something went wrong, since the mazurka ended with the song “Malbrug went on a hike,” which, in turn, ended with some familiar waltz. The landowner had long ago stopped turning it, but in this barrel organ there was one lively pipe that did not want to calm down, and whistled alone for a long time. Of course, in the crippled souls of Gogol’s heroes, these “God’s pipes” are very noticeable, sometimes whistling on their own and confusing well-thought-out, impeccably and logically planned scams.
How Chichikov reveals himself in his relationship with Nozdrev
Chichikov's attitude towards Nozdryov reveals inner world Gogol's swindler. Running away from the landowner who is making another “story,” the hunter for “dead souls” cannot understand why he went to the estate, why he trusted him, “like a child, like a fool.” However, it was not by chance that he was seduced by this landowner: by nature, he is also an adventurer who, in order to achieve selfish goals, without a twinge of conscience, can step over all moral laws. Concluding our discussion of the topic “Chichikov’s attitude towards Nozdryov,” we note that the former is no less capable of lying, deceiving, and even shedding tears at the same time than the latter.
Nozdryov, with whom Chichikov is brought together by another “accident,” is the complete opposite of Korobochka, an example of the unbelted, ugly broad Russian nature. Dostoevsky will say about such people later: “If there is no God, then everything is permitted.” For Nozdryov, God is himself, his unlimited whims and desires. He is a prisoner of his own licentious passions. The irrepressible energy, eternal movement and restlessness of this person are the result of the absence in him of a moral center that holds the personality together. “At that very moment he invited you to go anywhere, even to the ends of the world, to enter into any enterprise you want, to exchange everything you have for everything you want.”
“Nozdryov was in some respects historical person. Not a single meeting he attended was complete without a story. Some kind of story would certainly happen: either the gendarmes would lead him out of the hall by the arm, or his own friends would be forced to push him out.” There are no boundaries for Nozdryov’s desires: “Now I will take you to see,” he continued, turning to Chichikov, “the border where my land ends...” “Here is the border! - said Nozdryov. “Everything you see on this side is all mine, and even on the other side, all this forest that turns blue over there, and everything beyond the forest is all mine...”
Nozdryov's whole life is an endless and limitless saturation of the lowest sensual instincts of human nature. Surrounded by his dogs, Nozdryov is “like a father among the family.” Revelry and drinking, cards and cheating in a card game - this is Nozdryov’s element. The intoxication of lies brings him closer to Khlestakov. But, unlike him, Nozdryov’s lie is not harmless: it always contains a vile desire to “spoil one’s neighbor, sometimes for no reason at all.” When provincial officials, confused by the news of the purchase of dead souls, question Nozdryov about Chichikov, he instantly composes one lie after another, and so cleverly that it is as if he himself believes in what he has written. Confirming the gossip that Chichikov was going to take away the governor's daughter, Nozdryov composes such details on this subject that could not be refused: the village was even named after the name where the parish church in which the wedding was supposed to be located was located, namely the village of Trukhmanchevka, priest father Sidor, who took 75 rubles for the wedding, “even then would not have agreed if Nozdryov had not intimidated him.”
Running away from Nozdryov, who is making another “story,” Chichikov cannot even comprehend why he went to his estate, why “like a child, like a fool” he trusted him. But it was not by chance that he was seduced by Nozdryov: by nature, Chichikov is also an adventurer, and in order to achieve his selfish goals, he easily transgresses moral laws. Chichikov is no worse than any Nozdryov to deceive, lie, and even shed tears at the same time. “Nozdryov will not be removed from the world for a long time,” says Gogol. “He is everywhere among us and, perhaps, only walks around in a different caftan; but people are frivolously undiscerning, and a person in a different caftan seems to them a different person.”
True to his method of reifying man, Gogol compares the upset and corrupted soul of Nozdryov, and after him modern man in general, with a damaged organ: “The organ played not without pleasure, but in the middle of it, something seemed to happen, for the mazurka ended with the song: “Malburg went on a campaign,” and “Malburg went on a campaign” unexpectedly ended with some long-familiar waltz. Nozdryov had long ago stopped whistling, but there was one pipe in the barrel organ, a very lively one, that just didn’t want to calm down, and for a long time afterwards it whistled alone.” Remarkable, of course, in the upset “organ organs” of the crippled, confused souls of Gogol’s heroes are these “God’s pipes”, which sometimes whistle in them on their own and often confuse such well-thought-out, so logical and impeccably planned scams.
CHAPTER FOUR
Arriving at the tavern, Chichikov ordered to stop for two reasons. On the one hand, to give the horses a rest, and on the other hand, to have a few snacks and refreshments. The author must admit that he is very envious of the appetite and stomach of this kind of people. For him, all the gentlemen of great hands who live in St. Petersburg and Moscow, who spend time thinking about what to eat tomorrow and what kind of dinner to create for the day after tomorrow, and who start this dinner only after putting a pill in their mouths, mean absolutely nothing to him; swallowing oysters, sea spiders and other miracles, and then going to Carlsbad or the Caucasus. No, these gentlemen never aroused envy in him. But gentlemen of the average class, that at one station they will demand ham, at another suckling pig, at the third a piece of sturgeon or some kind of baked sausage with onions and then, as if nothing had happened, they sit down at the table at any time you want, and sterlet ear with burbot and hisses and grumbles with milk between their teeth, devoured by pie or kulebyak with catfish splash, so that the appetite of others is taken away - these gentlemen, for sure, are taking advantage of the enviable gift of the sky! More than one gentleman of great hands would immediately sacrifice half the souls of the peasants and half of the estates, mortgaged and unmortgaged, with all the improvements to a foreign and Russian foot, just to have the kind of stomach that a gentleman of average hands has; but the trouble is that no amount of money, less than an estate, with or without improvements, can buy the kind of stomach that a middle-class gentleman has.
The darkened wooden tavern received Chichikov under its narrow, hospitable canopy on carved wooden posts, similar to ancient church candlesticks. The tavern was something like Russian hut, several in larger size. Carved patterned cornices made of fresh wood around the windows and under the roof brightly and vividly colored its dark walls; Jugs of flowers were painted on the shutters.
Climbing up a narrow wooden staircase into the wide entryway, he met a door opening with a creak and a fat old woman in colorful chintz, who said: “Please come here!” In the room there were all the old friends that everyone comes across in small wooden taverns, of which there are many built along the roads, namely a frost-covered samovar, smoothly scraped pine walls, a triangular cabinet with teapots and cups in the corner, gilded porcelain eggs in front of icons hanging on blue and red ribbons, a cat that had recently lambed, a mirror that showed four eyes instead of two, and some kind of cake instead of a face; finally, bunches of fragrant herbs and carnations were stuck near the images, dried to such an extent that those who wanted to smell them only sneezed and nothing else.
Do you have a piglet? - Chichikov asked this question to the standing woman.
With horseradish and sour cream?
With horseradish and sour cream.
Give it here!
The old woman went digging and brought a plate, a napkin so starched that it stood on end like dried bark, then a knife with a yellowed bone block, thin as a penknife, a two-pronged fork and a salt shaker, which could not possibly be placed directly on the table.
Our hero, as usual, now entered into a conversation with her and asked whether she herself kept the tavern, or was the owner, and how much income the tavern gave, and whether their sons lived with them, and whether the eldest son was a single or married person, and which one he took wife, with a large dowry or not, and whether the father-in-law was pleased, and whether he was angry that he received few gifts at the wedding - in a word, he did not miss anything. It goes without saying that I was curious to find out what kind of landowners were in their area, and found out that there were all kinds of landowners: Plotin, Pochitaev, Mylnoy, Cheprakov-Colonel, Sobakevich. "Ah! Do you know Sobakevich?" - he asked and immediately heard that the old woman knew not only Sobakevich, but also Manilov, and that Manilov would be more delicate than Sobakevich: he would order the chicken to be cooked immediately, and he would also ask for the veal; if there is lamb liver, then he will ask for lamb liver, and will just try everything, and Sobakevich will ask for one thing, but he will eat it all, and even demand a supplement for the same price.
When he was talking in this way, eating a pig, of which there was already the last piece left, the sound of the wheels of an approaching carriage was heard. Looking out the window, he saw a light chaise pulled by three good horses stopping in front of the inn. Two men got out of the chaise. One is blond, tall; the other is a little shorter, dark-haired. The blond one was in a dark blue Hungarian jacket, the dark one was simply in a striped arkhaluk. From a distance another carriage was dragging along, empty, pulled by some long-haired quadruplet with tattered collars and rope harness. The fair-haired one immediately went up the stairs, while the dark-haired one still remained and felt something in the chaise, talking right there with the servant and at the same time waving to the carriage driving behind them. His voice seemed somewhat familiar to Chichikov. While he was looking at him, the blond man had already found the door and opened it. He was a tall man, with a thin face, or what is called shabby, with a red mustache. From his tanned face one could conclude that he knew what smoke was, if not gunpowder, then at least tobacco. He politely bowed to Chichikov, to which the latter responded in kind. In the course of a few minutes they would probably have started talking and getting to know each other well, because the beginning had already been made, and both almost at the same time expressed pleasure that the dust along the road had been completely washed down by yesterday's rain and now the ride was cool and pleasant, as his dark-haired comrade entered, throwing his cap off his head onto the table, bravely ruffling his black thick hair. He was of average height, a very well-built fellow with full rosy cheeks, teeth white as snow and jet-black sideburns. It was fresh, like blood and milk; his health seemed to be dripping from his face.
Bah, bah, bah! - he suddenly cried, spreading both arms at the sight of Chichikov. - What destinies?
Chichikov recognized Nozdryov, the same one with whom he had dined with the prosecutor and who with him in a few minutes agreed on such a short leg, that he had already begun to say “you,” although, however, he, for his part, did not give any reason for this.
Where did you go? - said Nozdryov and, without waiting for an answer, continued: - And I, brother, am from the fair. Congratulations: you're blown away! Can you believe that you have never been so blown away in your life? After all, I came to the philistines! Look out the window on purpose! - Here he bent Chichikov’s head himself, so that he almost hit the frame with it. - You see, what rubbish! They dragged me so hard, the damned ones, I already climbed into his chaise. - Saying this, Nozdryov pointed his finger at his comrade. - Haven’t you met yet? My son-in-law Mizhuev! He and I talked about you all morning. “Well, look, I say, if we don’t meet Chichikov.” Well, brother, if you only knew how screwed I am! Would you believe that he not only killed four trotters, but lost everything. After all, I have neither a chain nor a watch on... - Chichikov looked and saw for sure that he had neither a chain nor a watch on. It even seemed to him that one sideburn was smaller and not as thick as the other. “But if there were only twenty rubles in my pocket,” Nozdryov continued, “no more than twenty, I would win back everything, that is, except for what I would win back, that’s how honest man, I would put thirty thousand in my wallet now.
However, you said so even then,” the blond man answered, “and when I gave you fifty rubles, I immediately squandered them.”
And I wouldn’t waste it! By God, I wouldn’t have squandered it! If I hadn’t done something stupid myself, I really wouldn’t have squandered it. If I hadn’t forgotten the password on the damned seven, I could have broken the whole bank.
However, he didn’t pick it off,” said the blond one.
I didn’t pick it because I folded the duck at the wrong time. Do you think your major plays well?
Good or bad, he beat you.
How important! - said Nozdrey, - this way I’ll beat him too. No, if he tries to play with a doublet, then I’ll see, I’ll see then what kind of player he is! But, brother Chichikov, what a ride we had in the first days! True, the fair was excellent. The merchants themselves say that there has never been such a congress. Everything I brought from the village was sold at the lowest price. best price. Eh, brother, what a party! Now even when you remember... damn it! that is, what a pity that you weren’t there. Imagine that a dragoon regiment was stationed three miles from the city. Do you believe that there were as many officers as there were, forty officers alone were in the city; how we started drinking, brother... Captain Captain Kisses... so nice! such a mustache, brother! He simply calls Bordeaux a burdashka. “Bring it, brother,” he says, “the boogers!” Lieutenant Kuvshinnikov... Oh, brother, what a lovely man! Now, one might say, he is a reveler in all his form. We were all with him. What wine Ponomarev gave us! You need to know that he is a swindler and you can’t take anything from his shop: all sorts of rubbish is mixed into the wine: sandalwood, burnt cork, and even elderberry, the scoundrel, rubs in; but if he pulls out a bottle from the back room, which he calls special, - well, brother, you’re simply in the empyrean. We had such champagne - what's the governor's champagne next to it? just kvass. Imagine, not Clicquot, but some kind of Clicquot-Matradura, that means double Clicquot. And he also took out one bottle of French called bonbon. Smell? - socket and everything you want. They had such a great time!.. After us some prince arrived and sent us to the shop for champagne, there wasn’t a single bottle in the whole city, all the officers drank. Would you believe that I alone drank seventeen bottles of champagne during dinner!
“Well, you can’t drink seventeen bottles,” the blond man remarked.
“As an honest man, I say that I drank,” Nozdryov answered.
You can tell yourself whatever you want, but I’m telling you that you won’t even drink ten.
Well, you want to bet that I’ll drink!
Why bet?
Well, put down the gun you bought in the city.
Don't want.
Well, go ahead and try it.
And I don't want to try
Yes, you would be without a gun, like without a hat. Eh, brother Chichikov, that is, how I regretted that you were not there. I know that you would not have parted with Lieutenant Kuvshinnikov. How well you and him would get along! This is not like the prosecutor and all the provincial misers in our city, who are shaking for every penny. This one, brother, can go to galbik, and to banchishka, and to whatever you want. Eh, Chichikov, why should you come? Really, you're a sucker for this, you cattle breeder! Kiss me, soul, death love you! Mizhuev, look, fate has brought us together: what is he to me, or what am I to him? He came from God knows where, I live here too... And how many carriages there were, brother, and it was all en gros1. He played his fortune: he won two jars of lipstick, a porcelain cup and a guitar; then he put it down again once and scrolled through the channel for another six rubles. And what, if only you knew, the red tape of Kuvshinnikov! He and I went to almost all the balls. One was so overdressed, there were ruffles on her, and truffles, and God knows what was missing... I just thought to myself: “damn it!” And Kuvshinnikov, that is, she is such a beast, got hooked on her and French gives her such compliments... Believe it or not, he didn’t miss simple women. He calls this: taking advantage of the strawberry. They brought wonderful fish and balyks. I did bring one with me; It’s good that I thought of buying it when I still had money. Where are you going now?
1 in large quantities(French)
“And to the little man,” said Chichikov.
Well little man, leave him! let's ride in me!
No, you can't, there's a matter.
Well, that's it! I just made it up! Oh you, Opodelok Ivanovich!
Really, it’s a good thing, and a necessary one at that.
I bet you're lying! Well, just tell me, who are you going to?
Well, to Sobakevich.
Here Nozdrey began to laugh with that ringing laugh that only a fresh, healthy person bursts into, whose teeth are all white as sugar, their cheeks are trembling and jumping, and the neighbor behind two doors, in the third room, jumps up from his sleep, eyes wide and saying: “Eck, he was taken apart!”
What's so funny? - said Chichikov, partly dissatisfied with such laughter.
But Nozdryov continued to laugh at the top of his lungs, saying:
Oh, have mercy, really, I’ll burst out laughing!
There’s nothing funny: I gave him my word,” said Chichikov.
But you won’t be happy with life when you come to him, it’s just a Jew! After all, I know your character, you will be cruelly taken aback if you think you will find a small bottle and a good bottle of some bonbon there. Listen, brother: well, to hell with Sobakevich, let's ride in me! what kind of balyk I’ll serve! Ponomarev, the beast, bowed like that and said: “Only for you, the whole fair,” he said, “search the whole fair, you won’t find anything like that.” The rogue, however, is terrible. I said this to his face: “You, I say, are the first swindlers with our tax farmer!” Laughs, the beast, stroking his beard. Kuvshinnikov and I had breakfast every day in his shop. Oh, brother, I forgot to tell you: I know that you won’t leave now, but I won’t give it up for ten thousand, I’ll tell you in advance. Hey Porfiry! - he shouted, going up to the window, at his man, who was holding a knife in one hand, and in the other a crust of bread with a piece of balyk, which he was lucky enough to cut off in passing, taking something out of the chaise. “Hey, Porfiry,” Nozdryov shouted, “bring the puppy!” What a puppy! - he continued, turning to Chichikov. - Stolen, the owner did not give it for himself. I promised him a brown mare, which, remember, I traded with Khvostyrev... - Chichikov, however, had never seen either a brown mare or Khvostyrev.
Master! would you like to have something to eat? - the old woman said at that time, approaching him.
Nothing. Eh, brother, what a party! However, give me a glass of vodka; which one do you have?
Anisovaya,” answered the old woman.
Well, let’s have anise,” said Nozdrey.
Give me a glass too! - said the blond one.
There was one actress in the theater who sang like a canary! Kuvshinnikov, who was sitting next to me, “Here,” he says, brother, “I wish I could use the strawberries!” There were, I think, fifty booths alone. Fenardi spent four hours turning the mill. - Here he accepted a glass from the hands of the old woman, who bowed low to him for that. - Oh, give it here! - he shouted when he saw Porfiry come in with the puppy. Porfiry was dressed, just like the master, in some kind of archaluk, quilted with cotton wool, but a little more oily.
Come on, put it here on the floor!
Porfiry put the puppy on the floor, which, stretched out on all four paws, sniffed the ground.
Here's a puppy! - said Nozdryov, taking him by the hand and raising him. The puppy let out a rather pitiful howl.
“You, however, didn’t do what I told you,” said Nozdryov, turning to Porfiry and examining the puppy’s belly, “and didn’t think about combing it?”
No, I brushed him out.
Why fleas?
I can't know. Maybe they somehow got out of the chaise.
You lie, you lie, and you didn’t even imagine scratching; I think he’s a fool, he let his own people in too. Look, Chichikov, look at the ears, feel them with your hand.
Why, I already see: a good breed! - answered Chichikov.
No, take it on purpose and feel your ears!
To please him, Chichikov felt his ears, saying:
Yes, it will be a good dog.
And your nose, do you feel how cold it is? take it in your hand.
Not wanting to offend him, Chichikov took him by the nose, saying:
Good instinct.
A real little face,” Nozdryov continued, “and, I admit, I’ve been sharpening my teeth on the face for a long time.” Here, Porfiry, take it to me!
Porfiry, taking the puppy under his belly, carried him into the chaise.
Listen, Chichikov, you must definitely go to me now, five miles in total, we’ll get the hang of it, and then, perhaps, you can go to Sobakevich.
“Well,” Chichikov thought to himself, “I’ll really go and see Nozdryov. Why is he worse than others, he’s the same person, and he’s also lost. beg for something."
“If you please, we’re going,” he said, “but we can’t delay you too much, time is precious to me.”
Well, soul, that's it! This is good, wait, I’ll kiss you for this. - Here Nozdryov and Chichikov kissed. - And great: the three of us and we’ll go for a ride!
No, please let me go,” the blond man said, “I need to go home.”
Nonsense, nonsense, brother, I won’t let you in.
Really, the wife will be angry; Now you can transfer to their chaise.
No, no, no! Don't even think about it.
The blond man was one of those people in whose character, at first glance, there is some kind of stubbornness. Before you even have time to open your mouth, they are already ready to argue and, it seems, will never agree to something that is clearly opposite to their way of thinking, that they will never call a stupid person smart and that in particular they will not agree to dance to someone else’s tune; but it will always end with the fact that their character will turn out to be soft, that they will agree to exactly what they rejected, they will call stupid things smart and then go off to dance in the best possible way to someone else’s tune - in a word, they will start as a smooth surface and end up as a viper.
Nonsense! - said Nozdryov in response to some kind of statement from the blond man, put a cap on his head, and the blond man went after them.
They didn’t pay for the vodka, master... - said the old woman
Oh, okay, okay, mother. Listen, son-in-law! please pay. I don't have a penny in my pocket.
How old are you? - said the son-in-law.
“Why, father, just two kopecks,” said the old woman.
You're lying, you're lying. Give her half a ruble, that's enough for her.
“Not enough, master,” said the old woman, but she took the money with gratitude and ran in a hurry to open the door for them. She was not at a loss, because she asked for four times what the vodka cost.
The visitors sat down. Chichikov's chaise was driving next to the chaise in which Nozdryov and his son-in-law were sitting, and therefore all three of them could freely talk to each other as they continued the road. Following them, constantly lagging behind, was Nozdryov's small carriage on skinny philistine horses. Porfiry was sitting in it with a puppy.
Since the conversation that the travelers had among themselves was not very interesting for the reader, we will do better if we say something about Nozdryov himself, who, perhaps, will not have the chance to play at all last role in our poem.
Nozdryov’s face is probably already somewhat familiar to the reader. Everyone has met many such people. They are called broken fellows, they are reputed even in childhood and at school for being good comrades, and for all that they can be beaten very painfully. In their faces you can always see something open, direct, and daring. They soon get to know each other, and before you know it, they’re already saying “you.” They will make friends, it seems, forever: but it almost always happens that the person who has become friends will fight with them that same evening at a friendly party. They are always talkers, carousers, reckless people, prominent people. Nozdryov at thirty-five was exactly the same as he was at eighteen and twenty: a lover of a walk. Marriage did not change him at all, especially since his wife soon departed for the next world, leaving behind two children who he absolutely did not need. However, the children were looked after by a pretty nanny. He's at home more than a day I couldn't sit still. His sensitive nose heard him several dozen miles away, where there was a fair with all sorts of conventions and balls; in the blink of an eye he was there, arguing and causing chaos at the green table, for, like all of them, he had a passion for cards. At cards, as we have already seen from the first chapter, he did not play completely sinlessly and purely, knowing many different overexposures and other subtleties, and therefore the game very often ended in another game: either they beat him with boots, or they gave him overexposure thick and very good sideburns, so that he sometimes returned home with only one sideburn, and then a rather runny one. But his healthy and full cheeks were so well created and contained so much plant power that his sideburns soon grew back, even better than before. And what’s strangest of all, which can happen only in Rus' alone, is that after some time he already met again with those friends who were pestering him, and he met as if nothing had happened, and he, as they say, was nothing, and they were nothing.
Nozdryov was in some respects a historical person. Not a single meeting he attended was complete without a story. Some kind of story would certainly happen: either the gendarmes would lead him out of the hall by the arm, or his own friends would be forced to push him out. If this doesn’t happen, then something will happen that won’t happen to anyone else: either he’ll cut himself at the buffet in such a way that he only laughs, or he’ll lie in the most cruel way, so that he’ll finally become ashamed himself. And he will lie completely without any need: he will suddenly tell that he had a horse with some kind of blue or pink wool, and similar nonsense, so that those listening finally all leave, saying: “Well, brother, it seems you have already begun to pour bullets.” ". There are people who have a passion to spoil their neighbor, sometimes for no reason at all. Someone, for example, even a person in rank, with a noble appearance, with a star on his chest, will shake your hand, talk to you about deep subjects that provoke thought, and then, lo and behold, right there, before your eyes, he will spoil you. And he will spoil things like a simple college registrar, and not at all like a man with a star on his chest, talking about subjects that provoke thought, so that you just stand there and marvel, shrugging your shoulders, and nothing more. Nozdryov had the same strange passion. The closer someone got with him, the more likely he was to annoy everyone: he spread a tall tale, the stupidest of which is difficult to invent, upset a wedding, a trade deal, and did not at all consider himself your enemy; on the contrary, if chance brought him to meet you again, he would treat you again in a friendly manner and even say: “You’re such a scoundrel, you’ll never come to see me.” Nozdryov was in many respects a multifaceted man, that is, a man of all trades. At that very moment he invited you to go anywhere, even to the ends of the world, to enter into any enterprise you want, to exchange whatever you have for whatever you want. A gun, a dog, a horse - everything was the subject of exchange, but not at all in order to win: this simply happened from some kind of restless agility and liveliness of character. If at a fair he was lucky enough to attack a simpleton and beat him, he bought a bunch of everything that had previously caught his eye in the shops: collars, smoking candles, scarves for a nanny, a stallion, raisins, a silver washstand, Dutch linen, grain flour, tobacco, pistols, herrings, paintings, sharpening tools, pots, boots, earthenware - as much as there was enough money. However, it rarely happened that it was brought home; almost on the same day it descended to another, luckiest player, sometimes even adding his own pipe with a pouch and mouthpiece, and other times the whole foursome with everything: with a carriage and a coachman, so that the owner himself set off in a short frock coat or arkhaluk to look for some a friend to use his carriage. That's what Nozdryov was like! Maybe they will call him a beaten character, they will say that now Nozdryov is no longer there. Alas! those who speak like this will be unjust. Nozdryov will not leave the world for a long time. He is everywhere between us and, perhaps, only wears a different caftan; but people are thoughtlessly undiscerning, and a person in a different caftan seems to them a different person.
Meanwhile, three carriages had already rolled up to the porch of Nozdryov’s house. There was no preparation in the house to receive them. There were wooden trestles in the middle of the dining room, and two men, standing on them, whitewashed the walls, singing some kind of endless song; the floor was all splashed with whitewash. Nozdryov immediately ordered the men and the goats out and ran into another room to give orders. The guests heard him ordering dinner from the cook; Realizing this, Chichikov, who was already beginning to feel somewhat hungry, saw that they would not sit down at the table before five o’clock. Nozdryov, returning, took the guests to inspect everything he had in the village, and in a little over two hours he showed absolutely everything, so that there was nothing left to show. First of all, they went to inspect the stable, where they saw two mares, one dappled gray, the other brown, then a bay stallion, unsightly in appearance, but for which Nozdryov swore that he had paid ten thousand.
“You didn’t give ten thousand for it,” the son-in-law remarked. - He's not worth it alone.
By God, he gave me ten thousand,” said Nozdryov.
“You can swear to yourself as much as you want,” the son-in-law answered.
Well, if you want, we’ll bet!” said Nozdryov.
The son-in-law did not want to bet.
Then Nozdryov showed the empty stalls where they had been before too good horses. In the same stable they saw a goat, which, according to the old belief, was considered necessary to keep with the horses, which seemed to be in harmony with them, walking under their bellies as if at home. Then Nozdryov took them to see the wolf cub, which was on a leash. “Here is a wolf cub!” he said. “I deliberately feed him raw meat. I want him to be a perfect beast!” We went to look at the pond, in which, according to Nozdryov, there was a fish of such size that two people could hardly pull it out, which, however, the relative did not fail to doubt. “I’ll show you, Chichikov,” said Nozdryov, “I’ll show you an excellent pair of dogs: the strength of the black meat is simply amazing, the shield is a needle!” - and led them to a very beautifully built small house, surrounded by a large courtyard fenced off on all sides. Entering the yard, we saw all sorts of dogs there, both thick-dog and pure-dog, of all possible colors and stripes: murugi, black and tan, half-piebald, murugo-piebald, red-piebald, black-eared, gray-eared... There were all the nicknames, all imperative moods: shoot, scold, flutter, fire, skosyr, scratch, bake, bake, severga, killer whale, reward, trustee. Nozdryov was among them just like a father among the family; all of them, immediately throwing up their tails, which dogs call rules, flew straight towards the guests and began to greet them. About ten of them put their paws on Nozdryov’s shoulders. The curser showed the same friendship to Chichikov and, rising on his hind legs, He licked it right on the lips with his tongue, so that Chichikov immediately spat it out. They examined the dogs, who were amazed by the strength of the black meat - they were good dogs. Then they went to examine the Crimean bitch, who was already blind and, according to Nozdryov, was supposed to die soon, but. two years ago there was a very good bitch; they also examined the bitch - the bitch was definitely blind. Then they went to inspect the water mill, where the flutter was missing, in which the upper stone, which quickly rotates on the spindle, is installed - “fluttering”, in the wonderful expression of the Russian. man.
And here soon there will be a forge! - said Nozdryov. Having walked a little, they saw, exactly, a forge, and examined the forge.
Here in this field,” said Nozdryov, pointing his finger at the field, “the Russians are so dead that the land is not visible; I caught one by the hind legs with my own hands.
Well, you can’t catch a hare with your hand! - the son-in-law remarked.
But he caught it, he caught it on purpose! - answered Nozdryov - “Now I will take you to see,” he continued, turning to Chichikov, “the border where my land ends.”
Nozdryov led his guests through the field, which in many places consisted of hummocks. Guests had to make their way between fallow fields and harrowed fields. Chichikov began to feel tired. In many places their feet squeezed out the water beneath them, the place was so low. At first they were careful and stepped carefully, but then, seeing that it was of no use, they walked straight, not distinguishing where the most and where the least dirt was. Having walked a fair distance, they saw, exactly, a border consisting of wooden pillar and narrow ditch.
This is the border! - said Nozdryov. “Everything you see on this side is all mine, and even on the other side, all this forest that looks blue over there, and everything beyond the forest, everything is mine.”
When did this forest become yours? - asked the son-in-law. - Did you recently buy it? After all, he was not yours.
Yes, I bought it recently,” answered Nozdryov.
When did you manage to buy it so soon?
Why, I bought it the other day, and damn it, I paid for it.
Why, you were at the fair at that time.
Oh you, Sofron! Is it not possible to be at the fair and buy land at the same time? Well, I was at the fair, and my clerk bought it without me.
Yes, well, really a clerk! - said the son-in-law, but even then he doubted and shook his head.
The guests returned along the same nasty road to the house. Nozdryov led them to his office, in which, however, there were no visible traces of what happens in offices, that is, books or paper; There were only sabers and two guns hanging - one worth three hundred and the other worth eight hundred rubles. The son-in-law, having examined it, only shook his head. Then Turkish daggers were shown, on one of which the following was mistakenly carved: “Master Savely Sibiryakov.” After that, a barrel organ appeared to the guests. Nozdryov immediately performed something in front of them. The barrel organ played not without pleasantness, but in the middle of it, something seemed to have happened, for the mazurka ended with the song: “Malbrug went on a campaign,” and “Malbrug went on a campaign” unexpectedly ended with some long-familiar waltz. Nozdryov had long ago stopped whistling, but there was one very lively pipe in the barrel organ, which did not want to calm down, and therefore it whistled alone for a long time. Then pipes appeared - wooden, clay, meerschaum, smoked and unsmoked, covered in suede and uncovered, a pipe with an amber mouthpiece, recently won, a pouch embroidered by some countess, somewhere at the post station, who had fallen head over heels in love with him, whose hands , according to him, were the most subtly superfluous - a word that probably meant highest point perfection. After eating balyk, they sat down at the table around five o’clock. Dinner, apparently, was not the main thing in Nozdryov’s life; the dishes did not play a big role: some were burnt, some were not cooked at all. It is clear that the cook was guided by some kind of inspiration and put in the first thing that came to hand: if there was pepper near him, he sprinkled pepper, or if he found cabbage, he put in cabbage, stuffed milk, ham, peas - in a word, roll and go, it was It would be hot, but some taste would probably come out. But Nozdryov leaned on the wine: the soup had not yet been served, he had already poured the guests a large glass of port and another gosautern, because in the provincial and county towns There is no such thing as a simple Sauternes. Therefore, Nozdryov ordered to bring a bottle of Madeira, which the field marshal himself never drank better. Madeira, for sure, even burned in the mouth, for the merchants, already knowing the taste of the landowners who loved good Madeira, seasoned it mercilessly with rum, and sometimes poured in aqua regia, in the hope that Russian stomachs would endure everything. Then Nozdryov ordered to bring some special bottle, which, according to him, was both bourgognon and champagne together. He poured very diligently into both glasses, right and left, for his son-in-law and Chichikov; Chichikov noticed, however, somehow in passing, that he did not add much to himself. This forced him to be careful, and as soon as Nozdryov somehow started talking or poured a drink for his son-in-law, he would at that very moment tip his glass into the plate. In a short time, mountain ash was brought to the table, which, according to Nozdryov, had the perfect taste of cream, but in which, to amazement, fusel could be heard in all its strength. Then they drank some kind of balm that had a name that was even difficult to remember, and the owner himself another time called it by a different name. Dinner had long since ended, and the wines had been tasted, but the guests were still sitting at the table. Chichikov did not want to talk to Nozdryov in front of his son-in-law about the main subject. After all, the son-in-law was a stranger, and the subject required a private and friendly conversation. However, the son-in-law could hardly be a dangerous person, because he seemed to be working out to his heart's content and, sitting on a chair, was nodding off every minute. Having noticed himself that he was not in a reliable state, he finally began to ask for leave to go home, but in such a lazy and sluggish voice, as if, in the Russian expression, he was pulling a collar on a horse with pliers.
And no, no! I won't let you in! - said Nozdryov
No, don’t offend me, my friend, really, my son-in-law said, I’ll go, you’ll offend me very much.
Nonsense, nonsense! We'll build a little banch in a minute.
No, brother, build it yourself, but I can’t, my wife will have a big complaint, really, I have to tell her about the fair. Brother, really, I need to please her. No, don't hold me!
Well, her wife, k..! You will actually do important things together!
No, brother! she is so respectable and faithful! The services he provides are so... believe me, I have tears in my eyes. No, don’t hold me back; like an honest person, I’ll go. I assure you of this with true conscience.
Let him go, what's the use of him! - Chichikov said quietly to Nozdryov.
And indeed! - said Nozdryov. - Death I don’t like such meltdowns! - and added aloud: - Well, to hell with you, go and have sex with your wife, you little bastard! (1)
(1) Fetyuk - a word that is offensive to a man, comes from Fita - a letter considered by some to be an indecent letter. (Note by N.V. Gogol.)
“No, brother, don’t curse me with a fetish,” answered the son-in-law, “I owe her my life.” She's really kind, sweet, she gives such caresses... she brings you to tears; He’ll ask what he saw at the fair, he needs to tell everything, she’s really so sweet.
Well, go ahead and tell her nonsense! Here's your cap.
No, brother, you shouldn’t speak of her like that at all; With this you can say that you offend me myself, she is so sweet.
Well, get back to her quickly!
Yes, brother, I’ll go, sorry I can’t stay. I would be glad in my soul, but I can’t.
The son-in-law repeated his apologies for a long time, not noticing that he himself had been sitting in the chaise for a long time, had long left the gate, and in front of him there had long been only empty fields. It must be thought that the wife did not hear many details about the fair.
Such rubbish! - said Nozdryov, standing in front of the window and looking at the departing carriage. - Look how he dragged himself! The fastening skate is not bad, I’ve been wanting to pick it up for a long time. But there is no way to get along with him. Fetyuk, just fetyuk!
Then they entered the room. Porfiry handed over the candles, and Chichikov noticed in the owner’s hands a deck of cards that had come from nowhere.
“What about brother,” said Nozdryov, pressing the sides of the deck with his fingers and bending it somewhat, so that the piece of paper cracked and bounced off. - Well, to pass the time, I keep a jar of three hundred rubles!
But Chichikov pretended as if he had not heard what they were talking about, and said, as if suddenly remembering:
A! so as not to forget: I have a request for you.
First give your word that you will fulfill it.
What's your request?
Well, give me your word!
Honestly?
Honestly.
Here's my request: do you have a lot of dead peasants who have not yet been deleted from the audit?
Well, yes, but what?
Transfer them to me, to my name.
What do you need?
Well yes I need it.
Why?
Well, yes, it’s necessary... it’s my business, in a word, it’s necessary.
Well, I'm sure he's up to something. Admit it, what?
So what are you up to? It’s impossible to start anything out of such a trifle.
But why do you need them?
Oh, how curious! he would like to touch all kinds of rubbish with his hand, and even smell them!
Why don't you want to tell me?
But what kind of profit do you know? Well, just like that, fantasy came.
So here it is: until you say so, I won’t do it!
Well, you see, it’s really dishonest of you: you gave your word, and even backed out.
Well, as you want, I won’t do it until you tell me why.
"What should I say to him?" - thought Chichikov, after a moment of reflection, he announced that he needed dead souls to gain weight in society, that he did not have large estates, so until then at least some little souls.
You're lying, you're lying! - said Nozdryov, not allowing him to finish. - You're lying, brother!
Chichikov himself noticed that he had not come up with a very clever idea and that the pretext was rather weak.
Well, I’ll tell you more directly,” he said, correcting himself, “just please don’t let it slip to anyone.” I thought about getting married; but you need to know that the father and mother of the bride are very ambitious people. This is, really, a commission: I’m not glad that I got involved, they certainly want the groom to have no less than three hundred souls, and since I’m missing almost one and a half hundred peasants...
Well, you're lying! you're lying! - Nozdryov shouted again.
Well, here it is,” said Chichikov, “he didn’t lie that much,” and showed the smallest part with his thumb on his little finger.
I bet you're lying!
However, this is a shame! What am I really? Why do I have to lie?
Well, yes, I know you: you are a big swindler, let me tell you this out of friendship! If I were your boss, I would hang you from the first tree.
Chichikov was offended by this remark. Already any expression that was in any way rude or offensive to decency was unpleasant to him. He did not even like to allow himself to be treated with familiarity in any case, unless the person was of too high a rank. And so now he was completely offended.
By God, I would hang him,” repeated Nozdryov, “I’m telling you this frankly, not to offend you, but just saying it in a friendly way.”
“There are limits to everything,” Chichikov said with a sense of dignity. “If you want to show off such speeches, then go to the barracks,” and then he added: “If you don’t want to give it as a gift, then sell it.”
Sell! But I know you, you’re a scoundrel, you won’t pay dearly for them?
Eh, you're good too! look you! Are they diamonds, or what?
Well, it is. I already knew you.
Have mercy, brother, what kind of Jewish urge do you have? You should just give them to me.
Well, listen, to prove to you that I’m not some kind of scammer, I won’t take anything for them. Buy a stallion from me, I'll give you one in addition.
For mercy's sake, what do I need a stallion for? - said Chichikov, truly amazed at such a proposal.
Like what? But I paid ten thousand for it, and I’m giving it to you for four.
What do I need a stallion for? I don't run a factory.
Listen, you don’t understand: I’ll only take three thousand from you now, and you can pay me the rest of the thousand later.
I don’t need a stallion, God bless him!
Well, buy a brown mare.
And you don't need a mare.
For the mare and for the gray horse that you saw with me, I will take only two thousand from you.
I don't need horses.
If you sell them, they will give you three times as much for them at the first fair.
It’s better to sell them yourself when you are sure that you will win three times.
I know that I will win, and I want you to benefit too.
Chichikov thanked him for the favor and outright refused both the gray horse and the brown mare.
Well, buy some dogs. I’ll sell you a pair like this, it’ll just give you the chills! busty, with a mustache, the fur stands up like stubble. The barreliness of the ribs is incomprehensible, the paw is all in a ball and won’t touch the ground.
Why do I need dogs? I'm not a hunter.
Yes, I want you to have dogs. Listen, if you don’t want dogs, then buy a barrel organ from me, a wonderful barrel organ; myself, as an honest person, it cost one and a half thousand. I’ll give it to you for nine hundred rubles.
But why do I need a barrel organ? After all, I’m not German to beg for money while trudging along the roads with her.
But this is not the kind of barrel organ that the Germans wear. This is an organ; look at it on purpose: it’s all made of mahogany. Here I will show it to you again! - Here Nozdryov, grabbing Chichikov by the hand, began to drag him into another room, and no matter how he rested his feet on the floor and assured that he already knew what the organ was, he had to hear again how Malbrug went on a campaign. - When you don’t want money, so listen: I’ll give you a barrel organ and all the dead souls I have, and you give me your chaise and three hundred rubles in addition.
Well, what else am I going to wear?
I'll give you another chaise. Let's go to the barn, I'll show it to you! You just repaint it, and it will be a miracle chaise.
“How the restless demon has taken hold of him!” - Chichikov thought to himself and decided at all costs to get rid of all sorts of chaises, barrel organs and all possible dogs, despite the incomprehensible barreliness of the ribs and the lumpy paws.
Why, a chaise, a barrel organ and dead souls, all together!
“I don’t want to,” Chichikov said again.
Why don't you want to?
Because I just don’t want to, and that’s it.
What are you really like! with you, as I see, it is impossible, as usual between good friends and comrades, really!.. Now it’s clear that he’s a two-faced man!
What am I, a fool, or what? Judge for yourself: why buy something that is absolutely unnecessary for me?
Well, please don't tell me. Now I know you very well. Such a rakalia, really! Well, listen, do you want to throw a can? I will put all the dead on the line, and the organ too.
Well, deciding to go to the bank means being exposed to the unknown,” Chichikov said, and meanwhile glanced sideways at the cards in his hands. Both waists seemed to him very similar to artificial ones, and the very spot looked very suspicious.
Why the unknown? - said Nozdryov. - No suspense! If only happiness is on your side, you can win the damn abyss. There she is! what happiness! - he said, starting to throw enthusiasm to excite. - What happiness! what happiness! there: it’s pounding! this is the damned nine on which I squandered everything! I felt that he would sell, but already, closing my eyes, I thought to myself: “Damn you, sell you, damn you!”
When Nozdryov said this, Porfiry brought a bottle. But Chichikov resolutely refused to both play and drink.
Why don't you want to play? - said Nozdryov.
Well, because it’s not located. Yes, I must admit, I’m not at all keen on playing.
Why not a hunter?
Chichikov shrugged his shoulders and added:
Because I'm not a hunter.
You're rubbish!
What to do? God created it that way.
Just crazy! I thought before that you were at least somewhat a decent person, but you don’t understand any kind of treatment. There is no way to talk to you as if you were a close person... no straightforwardness, no sincerity! perfect Sobakevich, such a scoundrel!
Why are you scolding me? Is it my fault that I don't play? Sell me some souls, if you are the kind of person who trembles over this nonsense.
You'll get damn bald! I wanted to, I wanted to give it away for nothing, but now you won’t get it! Even if you give me three kingdoms, I won’t give it up. Such a scoundrel, a disgusting stove maker! From now on I don’t want to have anything to do with you. Porfiry, go tell the groom not to give oats to his horses, let them eat only hay.
Chichikov did not expect this last conclusion.
It would be better if you just didn’t show your face to me! - said Nozdryov.
Despite, however, such a disagreement, the guest and the host dined together, although this time there were no wines with fancy names on the table. There was only one bottle of some kind of Cypriot sticking out, which was what is called sour in all respects. After dinner, Nozdryov said to Chichikov, taking him to a side room where a bed had been prepared for him:
Here's your bed! I don’t even want to wish you good night!
After Nozdryov left, Chichikov was left in the most unpleasant mood. He was inwardly annoyed with himself, scolding himself for visiting him and wasting his time. But he scolded himself even more for talking to him about the matter, acting carelessly, like a child, like a fool: for the matter was not at all of that kind, to be entrusted to Nozdryov... Nozdryov is a trash man, Nozdryov can lie, add, spread God knows what, some other gossip will come out - not good, not good. "I'm just a fool." - he said to himself. He slept very poorly that night. Some small, persistent insects bit him with unbearable pain, so that he scratched the wounded place with his whole fist, saying: “Oh, damn you and Nozdryov!” He woke up early in the morning. His first order of business was, putting on a robe and boots, to go across the yard to the stable and order Selifan to lay the chaise at once. Returning through the courtyard, he met Nozdryov, who was also in a dressing gown, with a pipe in his mouth.
Nozdryov greeted him in a friendly manner and asked how he slept.
“So-so,” Chichikov answered very dryly.
And I, brother,” said Nozdryov, “such abomination crept in all night that it’s disgusting to tell, and in my mouth after yesterday it’s like a squadron spent the night.” Imagine: I dreamed that I was whipped, oh my! and guess who? You'll never guess: Staff Captain Potseluev together with Kuvshinnikov.
“Yes,” Chichikov thought to himself, “it would be nice if they tore you off in reality.”
By God! yes it hurts! I woke up: damn it, something was actually scratching - that's right, witches are fleas. Well, now go and get dressed, I’ll come to you now. You just need to scold the scoundrel clerk.
Chichikov went into the room to get dressed and wash. When he went out into the dining room after that, there was already a tea set with a bottle of rum on the table. There were traces of yesterday's lunch and dinner in the room; it seems that the floor brush was not touched at all. There were bread crumbs on the floor, and tobacco ash was even visible on the tablecloth. The owner himself, who was quick to enter, had nothing under his robe except his open chest, on which some kind of beard grew. Holding a chibouk in his hand and sipping from a cup, he was very good for a painter who does not like the fear of gentlemen slicked and curled, like barber signs, or cut with a comb.
Well, what do you think? - said Nozdryov, after a short silence. - Don't you want to play for souls?
I already told you, brother, that I don’t play; buy - if you please, I’ll buy it.
I don’t want to sell, it wouldn’t be friendly. I won't take the spitting off God knows what. In a bow is another matter. Let's at least throw in the waist!
I already said no.
Don't you want to change?
Don't want.
Well, listen, let's play checkers, if you win, it's all yours. After all, I have a lot of people who need to be deleted from the revision. Hey, Porfiry, bring the checkerboard here.
Labor is in vain, I will not play.
But it’s not to the bank; there can be no happiness or falsehood here: everything comes from art; I’ll even preface you by saying that I don’t know how to play at all, unless you give me something in advance.
“This time,” Chichikov thought to himself, “I’ll play checkers with him! I played checkers well, but it’s hard for him to get up to speed here.”
If you please, so be it, I’ll play checkers.
Souls cost a hundred rubles!
Why? It’s enough if they go at fifty.
No, what kind of jackpot is fifty? It would be better if I included in this amount some kind of mediocre puppy or a gold signet for your watch.
Well, please! - said Chichikov.
How much will you give me in advance? - said Nozdryov.
Why on earth is this? Of course, nothing.
At least let it be my two moves.
I don’t want to, I’m not a good player myself.
It's been a while since I picked up checkers! - Chichikov said, also moving his saber.
We know you, how bad you play! - said Nozdryov, speaking with his saber.
It's been a while since I picked up checkers! - Chichikov said, moving his saber.
We know you, how bad you play! - said Nozdryov, moving the saber, and at the same time he moved the other saber with the cuff of his sleeve.
It's been a while since I picked it up!.. Eh, eh! What is this, brother? put her back! - said Chichikov.
Yes, a saber,” said Chichikov, and at the same time he saw another one right in front of his nose, which, as it seemed, was making its way into the kings; where it came from, only God knew. “No,” said Chichikov, getting up from the table, “there is no way to play with you!” They don’t move like that, suddenly three checkers at a time!
Why three? This is by mistake. One moved accidentally, I’ll move it if you please.
Where did the other one come from?
Which other one?
And this one that sneaks into the ladies?
Look at you like you don’t remember!
No, brother, I counted all the moves and remember everything; You just installed it now. She belongs over there!
How, where is the place? - said Nozdryov, blushing. - Yes, brother, as I see it, you are a writer!
No, brother, it seems that you are the writer, but it’s just unsuccessful.
Who do you think I am? - said Nozdryov. - Am I going to cheat?
I don’t regard you as anyone, but from now on I’ll never play.
No, you can’t refuse,” Nozdryov said, getting excited, “the game has begun!”
I have the right to refuse because you don't play as decently as possible to an honest man.
No, you're lying, you can't say that1
No, brother, you yourself are lying!
I didn’t cheat, but you can’t refuse, you have to finish the game!
“You can’t force me to do this,” Chichikov said calmly and, going up to the board, mixed the checkers.
Nozdryov flushed and approached Chichikov so close that he took two steps back.
I'll make you play! It's okay that you mixed the checkers, I remember all the moves. We will put them back the way they were.
No, brother, it's over, I won't play with you.
So you don't want to play?
You see for yourself that there is no way to play with you.
No, tell me straight, you don't want to play? - Nozdryov said, approaching even closer.
Don't want! - said Chichikov and, however, brought both hands closer to his face just in case, for things were really getting hot.
This precaution was very appropriate, because Nozdryov waved his hand... and it could very well have happened that one of our hero’s pleasant and full cheeks would have been covered with indelible dishonor; but, happily deflecting the blow, he grabbed Nozdryov by both of his perky hands and held him tightly.
Porfiry, Pavlushka! - Nozdryov shouted in rage, trying to break free.
Hearing these words, Chichikov, in order not to make the courtyard people witnesses the seductive scene and at the same time feeling that holding Nozdryov was useless, released his hands. At this very time Porfiry entered and with him Pavlushka, a burly guy with whom it was completely unprofitable to deal.
So you don't want to finish the games? - said Nozdryov. - Answer me directly!
There is no way to end the game,” Chichikov said and looked out the window. He saw his chaise, which stood completely ready, and Selifan seemed to be waiting for a signal to roll under the porch, but there was no way to get out of the room: two hefty serf fools stood at the door.
So you don't want to finish the games? - Nozdryov repeated with his face burning as if on fire.
If only you played like an honest person should. But now I can't.
A! You can't do that, you scoundrel! When you saw that it wasn’t yours, you couldn’t! Beat him! - he shouted frantically, turning to Porfiry and Pavlushka, and he grabbed the cherry chibouk in his hand. Chichikov became pale as a sheet. He wanted to say something, but he felt that his lips were moving without a sound.
Beat him! - Nozdryov shouted, rushing forward with his cherry chibouk, all hot and sweaty, as if he was approaching an impregnable fortress. - Beat him! - he shouted in the same voice as during a great attack he shouts to his platoon: “Guys, forward!” some desperate lieutenant, whose eccentric courage has already acquired such fame that a special order is given to hold his hands during hot affairs. But the lieutenant already felt the swearing fervor, everything went around in his head; Suvorov rushes in front of him, he climbs into a great cause. "Guys, go ahead!" - he shouts, rushing, without thinking that he is harming the already thought-out plan for a general attack, that millions of gun muzzles are exposed in the embrasures of impregnable fortress walls that go beyond the clouds, that his powerless platoon will fly up like feathers into the air and that the fatal bullet is already whistling , preparing to slam his noisy throat. But if Nozdryov expressed himself as a desperate, lost lieutenant approaching the fortress, then the fortress he was going towards did not in any way resemble an impregnable one. On the contrary, the fortress felt such fear that its soul hid in its very heels. Already the chair with which he had decided to defend himself had been torn out of his hands by the serfs, already, having closed his eyes, neither alive nor dead, he was preparing to taste his master’s Circassian chibouk, and God knows what would happen to him; but fate wanted to save the sides, shoulders and all the well-bred parts of our hero. Unexpectedly, the rattling sounds of a bell suddenly rang, as if from the clouds, the sound of the wheels of a cart flying up to the porch was clearly heard, and the heavy snoring and heavy panting of the heated horses of the stopped troika echoed even in the room itself. Everyone involuntarily looked out the window: someone, with a mustache, in a semi-military frock coat, was getting out of the cart. Having inquired in the hall, he entered at that very moment when Chichikov had not yet had time to recover from his fear and was in the most pitiful position in which a mortal had ever been.
Let me know who is Mr. Nozdryov here? - said the stranger, looking in some bewilderment at Nozdryov, who stood with a chibouk in his hand, and at Chichikov, who was barely beginning to recover from his disadvantageous position.
Let me first find out who I have the honor of speaking with? - Nozdryov said, coming closer to him.
Police captain.
What do you want?
I have come to announce to you the notice given to me that you are on trial until the end of the decision on your case.
What nonsense, for what reason? - said Nozdryov.
You were involved in a story on the occasion of inflicting a personal insult on the landowner Maximov with rods while drunk.
You're lying! I have never even seen the landowner Maximov!
Dear Sir! Let me tell you that I am an officer. You can tell this to your servant, not to me!
Here Chichikov, without waiting for Nozdryov to answer this, quickly slipped out onto the porch by his hat and behind the back of the police captain, sat down in the chaise and ordered Selifan to drive the horses at full speed.
“Well, the woman seems to be strong-minded,” thought Chichikov, N.V. Gogol Poem by Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol “ Dead souls"brilliantly reflected the time and faces of landowner-serf Russia of the 30s of the 19th century. This was a period when serfdom was collapsing, a crisis was brewing in the system, but the landowners desperately clung to their privileges, which allowed them to live comfortably off the slave labor of forced peasants. The poem is structured in the form of a journey, allowing the author to show the whole of Russia with its troubles and hardships, to identify the cause of the plight of the people and, with the help of satire, to expose the vices of the existing system.
Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov is a swindler who decided to make capital by taking advantage of imperfections social order Russia. Traveling through the southern provinces, he tries to buy cheap dead peasants, who have not passed the audit fairy tale (census) and are considered alive, in order to subsequently deposit false documents in the bank and receive money for them, get married profitably, get rich, without bothering yourself with socially useful work. Chichikov meets with the feudal landowners, and here Gogol shows what “disgusting and vile things a person can reach” in the pursuit of money and his own well-being.
After leaving Manilov, Chichikov ends up with Korobochka, a fairly prosperous landowner, a zealous housewife, ready to sell “meat, poultry, hemp and honey,” but who did not refuse to trade in the dead souls of peasants. Moreover, the “club-headed” Nastasya Petrovna “decided” that for this she would have to dig up coffins, and this does not stop her. She is ready to do anything to get money. “Do you really want to dig them out of the ground?” Chichikov understood Korobochka’s nature perfectly and spoke to her “with more freedom than with Manilov.” Chichikov does not stand on ceremony.
He needs to continue the work he started, and since he stopped by Korobochka, he needs to conduct business with her. Ivanovich allows himself to shout at the landowner when he is distracted from the matter that interests him. Nastasya is afraid to sell things too cheap, she doesn’t care about everything else. She, “an elderly woman, in some sort of linen cap, put on hastily, with a flannel around her neck, is one of the mothers, small landowners who cry over their losses and keep their heads somewhat to one side, and meanwhile steal a little money into colorful bags, placed in dresser drawers.” The box is a strong landowner, she lives subsistence farming, but knows very well the power of money. You are amazed at Nastasya Petrovna’s greed: why does she need money, because she has no children to whom the capital could be transferred, who needed to be brought into the public eye. The pointlessness of Korobochka's hoarding is almost ominous.
She saves money for its own sake, and is not afraid to sell dead peasants - just to get money. This episode has great value in the compositional structure of the poem “Dead Souls”. Gradually, Gogol will show how the thirst for profit, the accumulation of capital by any means, the immense exploitation of the peasants corrode the soul of the landowners themselves. They lose their human appearance, their warmth, turning into “real dead souls.”
When starting to work on the poem “Dead Souls,” Gogol set himself the goal of “showing at least one side of all of Rus'.” The poem is based on a plot about the adventures of Chichikov, an official who buys “dead souls.” The thirst for winning and good luck forces the hero-adventurer to quickly change position, move easily across the vast expanses of the country, seek acquaintances with the right people, seek their favor. At the same time, it turns out that he is similar to some of the people he meets, but a whole abyss separates him from others. But in any case, Chichikov needs to find a special approach to each of them, to find a way for contact.
This composition allowed the author to talk, for example, about various landowners and their villages, which Chichikov visits in order to complete his deal. One chapter-personality is dedicated to each of the landowners, and, according to Gogol, heroes follow us, “one more vulgar than the other.” Chichikov meets Nozdryov, the third in a row of landowners, to whom the 4th chapter is dedicated, by chance at a roadside tavern. These kinds of “accidents” necessary for the author to create the most full picture landowner Russia, organically enter into the free composition of the poem, built on the basis of a structure close to a travel novel.
But in in this case This chance meeting turns out to be fatal for Chichikov: it is Nozdryov who tells at the governor’s ball that Chichikov “trades in dead souls.” This gives impetus to the development of rumors, which, growing with incredible speed, ultimately force Chichikov to flee the city. It would seem that we have before us a clear plot-compositional opposition between two characters: one, plotting a scam, carefully tries to hide his true interests from everyone; the other, willingly or unwillingly, reveals his plans and thereby disrupts them. How justified is such a contrast from the point of view of its motivation by the characters of both characters?
The landowner Nozdryov has an irrepressible temperament, he is energetic and very sociable: he will invite one to visit, then another, come to a fair, or to a ball in the provincial town of N. One gets the impression that he is clearly similar to Chichikov, who simply has the gift of communicating with people, quickly gets along with everyone provincial town where I just arrived. He is also very active and energetic, ready to travel halfway across Russia just to achieve his goal. But the fact of the matter is that the goals of these two different people are completely different, and therefore even the outwardly similar qualities of these characters turn out to be different in reality.
Nozdryov is truly distinguished by his daring and “broad scope of nature.” He is mobile, ready to do any business, without thinking about what, and all his activity, in fact, is devoid of purpose. This is the activity of a person who is free from any responsibilities to create anything and achieve any results. Therefore, all his impulses end as easily as they begin, without any positive results: “Everything ends either in a trifle, or in all kinds of stories.” If his activity is still aimed at something, then it is to burn through life. He finds himself everywhere where all sorts of pleasures can await him.
Another thing is Chichikov’s activity and energy, mobility. He new person time, businessman, acquirer. The purpose of all his actions is to accumulate capital. It is in pursuit of him that he develops vigorous and vigorous activity. And he wants to create something very specific: having saved money, buy an estate, start a family, “chichinyat”.
To be fair, it should be noted that Nozdryov already has all this, but he does not value any of the above. His estate and household, which he is not at all concerned about, are falling apart, his wife has died, and his two children, whom the nanny is looking after, do not interest him at all. But there is no power of money or property over him. He is ready to splurge on anything: a horse, a cart, money received from selling goods at a fair.
And he is ready to do the same with what is so dear and necessary for Chichikov - with “dead souls”. He’s not interested in selling them, but he doesn’t want to give them away either. And then proposals arise - one more absurd than the other: he will not take anything from Chichikov for the “dead souls”, but will give them in addition if the Goth buys from him a stallion, or a brown mare, or dogs, or at least a barrel organ, or otherwise - win at cards.
Chichikov did not agree to play cards with the sharper Nozdrev, but to his misfortune he decided to play checkers with him. But is it possible to play with a person who immediately starts cheating? Chichikov himself is a scoundrel and a swindler, but he does everything wisely, according to subtle calculations, in order to obtain a clear benefit. And for Nozdryov, this is just another outburst of his stormy, gambling nature. Even if it is not at all profitable for him to deceive, he simply cannot help but do it - such is his character.
Nozdryov has a wild and absurd imagination - he can, for example, invent that he had a pink horse, and believe it himself. Chichikov is building a whole network of frauds and deceptions, carefully thinking through everything - but it is simply impossible to reduce such an unbridled nature as Nozdryov to some kind of rational basis.
This is the reason that Chichikov “lost” his game with Nozdryov. If he managed to escape from the end of the game of checkers, although he almost paid for it with beatings from the owner and his servants, then he cannot escape Nozdryov’s “nature”. It was not for nothing that Chichikov himself was “internally annoyed with himself, scolding himself” for visiting Nozdryov, and especially for “talking to him about business, acting carelessly, like a child, like a fool.” After all, he himself understands that “Nozdryov can lie, add, spread God knows what, some other gossip will come out.” And indeed that is what happened.
But Pavel Ivanovich did not take into account one more property of Nozdryov: he has a “passion to spoil his neighbor, sometimes without any reason at all,” and after another vile act he is not tormented by either his conscience or any feeling of humiliation or offended dignity. And in this, too, he seems to be quite similar to Chichikov, with the only difference that the “acquisitive scoundrel,” as the author himself characterizes him, does all his meanness not “from the heart,” like Nozdryov, but “from the mind”: namely they help him build his career and move towards his intended goal. In pursuit of capital, he, like Nozdryov, has lost the concept of honor, conscience, decency, but unlike the irrepressible landowner, he knows how to pass for a “decent man” and hide his unprincipledness and immorality. It cannot be otherwise: after all, the landowners and officials around him also think of themselves as “decent” people, enlightened, educated, and only accept their own kind into their circle - no matter what lies behind the decent appearance. It’s funny, but only Nozdryov threw a completely fair accusation at Chichikov: “Now it’s clear that he’s a two-faced man.”
Of course, he said this, as always, without hesitation, but it’s not for nothing that the writer so often shows that it was Nozdryov who offered worthy resistance to Chichikov - he didn’t sell the “dead souls,” he kicked them out of his house, and then contributed to his expulsion from the city. There is one more quality of Nozdryov that very much distinguishes him from Chichikov.
In the portrait of Nozdryov there is something that is reminiscent of a folkloric good fellow: “He was of average height, a very well-built fellow, with full rosy cheeks, teeth as white as snow and jet-black sideburns. It was fresh, like blood and milk; his health seemed to be dripping from his face.” Of course, there is obvious irony in this description. It is not for nothing that the author, further talking about the fights in which Nozdryov constantly gets involved, notes that “his full cheeks were so well created and contained so much plant power that his sideburns soon grew back,” when in the next mess they were pulled out for him. There is something of an animal in this hero (remember, he was among dogs “just like a father among a family”), but the definition of “historical person” was not given to him in vain.
This is not only a mockery of a person who, due to the irrepressible nature of his nature, constantly gets involved in some kind of story: “either the gendarmes will lead him out of the hall by the hand, or his own friends will be forced to push him out.” But in author's description This landowner also sounds another motive: the unrealized possibilities contained in this nature: “In their faces you can always see something open, direct, daring,” Gogol writes about the type of people like Nozdryov. And at the end of the chapter, describing the ugly end of a game of checkers, when Nozdryov is ready to beat up a guest who came to him, suddenly a completely unexpected comparison arises:
“Beat him! - he shouted in the same voice as during a great attack he shouts to his platoon: “Guys, go ahead!” - some desperate lieutenant, whose eccentric courage has already acquired such fame that a special order is given to hold his hands during hot affairs. But the lieutenant already felt the swearing fervor, everything went around in his head; Suvorov rushes in front of him, he climbs into a great cause.”
Maybe the trouble with a character like Nozdryov’s is that he was born at the wrong time? If he had had a chance to participate in the War of 1812, perhaps he would have been no worse than Denis Davydov. But, according to the writer, in his time such human type shredded, degenerated, turned into a parody. All his strength and courage were only enough to almost beat Chichikov and do a fair amount of mischief to him.
Another thing is Chichikov: this is a completely modern hero, even slightly ahead of the time when he would firmly establish himself in Russian society. He is an egoist-pragmatist, living by clear calculations, strictly taking into account his own benefit in everything; he is energetic and intelligent, enterprising and resourceful, has remarkable willpower, capable of pacifying his desires if they go against business. But despite all this, his soul is “enchanted by wealth,” and the thirst for acquisitions killed the best in him. human qualities, deadened the soul.
What is the writer's choice? Which of the two heroes can claim to find the way to the future? Perhaps new living conditions will awaken Nozdryov’s soul, spiritualize it, and a hero will appear in his place, for whom in Russia “there is a place to turn around and walk.” Or maybe Gogol’s unrealized plan to lead his hero Chichikov through three volumes of the poem will come true, cleansing his soul from the power of money and finding for him a true place and a cause worthy of a person. “Rus, where are you going? Give me the answer. Doesn’t give an answer,” Gogol ends the poem. But even now, almost two centuries later, it is hardly possible to give an unambiguous answer to the famous Gogol question.