Khlestakov, Osip, and a Servant.

SERVANT. The landlord sent me up to ask what you want.

KHLESTAKOV. Ah, how do you do, brother! How are you? How are you?

SERVANT. All right, thank you.

KHLESTAKOV. And how are you getting on in the inn? Is business good?

SERVANT. Yes, business is all right, thank you.

KHLESTAKOV. Many guests?

SERVANT. Plenty.

KHLESTAKOV. See here, good friend. They haven't sent me dinner yet.
Please hurry them up! See that I get it as soon as possible. I have some
business to attend to immediately after dinner.

SERVANT. The landlord said he won't let you have anything any more. He
was all for going to the Governor to-day and making a complaint against
you.

KHLESTAKOV. What's there to complain about? Judge for yourself, friend.
Why, I've got to eat. If I go on like this I'll turn into a skeleton.
I'm hungry, I'm not joking.

SERVANT. Yes, sir, that's what he said. "I won't let him have no
dinner," he said, "till he pays for what he has already had." That was
his answer.

KHLESTAKOV. Try to persuade him.

SERVANT. But what shall I tell him?

KHLESTAKOV. Explain that it's a serious matter, I've got to eat. As for
the money, of course--He thinks that because a muzhik like him can go
without food a whole day others can too. The idea!

SERVANT. Well, all right. I'll tell him.

The Servant and Osip go out.

SCENE V

Khlestakov alone.

KHLESTAKOV. A bad business if he refuses to let me have anything. I'm
so hungry. I've never been so hungry in my life. Shall I try to raise
something on my clothes? Shall I sell my trousers? No, I'd rather starve
than come home without a St. Petersburg suit. It's a shame Joachim
wouldn't let me have a carriage on hire. It would have been great to
ride home in a carriage, drive up under the porte-cochere of one of the
neighbors with lamps lighted and Osip behind in livery. Imagine the stir
it would have created. "Who is it? What's that?" Then my footman walks
in [draws himself up and imitates] and an-nounces: "Ivan Aleksandrovich
Khlestakov of St. Petersburg. Will you receive him?" Those country
lubbers don't even know what it means to "receive." If any lout of
a country squire pays them a visit, he stalks straight into the
drawing-room like a bear. Then you step up to one of their pretty girls
and say: "Dee-lighted, madam." [Rubs his hands and bows.] Phew! [Spits.]
I feel positively sick, I'm so hungry.

SCENE VI

Khlestakov