-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Николай Гоголь
-
- Мертвые души
-
- Стр. 173/232
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
Where
are
you
off
to
?
"
put
in
their
host
unexpectedly
as
he
roused
himself
and
stared
in
astonishment
at
the
pair
.
"
No
,
no
,
my
good
sirs
.
I
have
had
the
wheels
removed
from
your
koliaska
,
Monsieur
Chichikov
,
and
have
sent
your
horse
,
Platon
Mikhalitch
,
to
a
grazing
ground
fifteen
versts
away
.
Consequently
you
must
spend
the
night
here
,
and
depart
to-morrow
morning
after
breakfast
.
"
What
could
be
done
with
a
man
like
Pietukh
?
There
was
no
help
for
it
but
to
remain
.
In
return
,
the
guests
were
rewarded
with
a
beautiful
spring
evening
,
for
,
to
spend
the
time
,
the
host
organised
a
boating
expedition
on
the
river
,
and
a
dozen
rowers
,
with
a
dozen
pairs
of
oars
,
conveyed
the
party
(
to
the
accompaniment
of
song
)
across
the
smooth
surface
of
the
lake
and
up
a
great
river
with
towering
banks
.
From
time
to
time
the
boat
would
pass
under
ropes
,
stretched
across
for
purposes
of
fishing
,
and
at
each
turn
of
the
rippling
current
new
vistas
unfolded
themselves
as
tier
upon
tier
of
woodland
delighted
the
eye
with
a
diversity
of
timber
and
foliage
.
In
unison
did
the
rowers
ply
their
sculls
,
yet
it
was
though
of
itself
that
the
skiff
shot
forward
,
bird-like
,
over
the
glassy
surface
of
the
water
;
while
at
intervals
the
broad-shouldered
young
oarsman
who
was
seated
third
from
the
bow
would
raise
,
as
from
a
nightingale
's
throat
,
the
opening
staves
of
a
boat
song
,
and
then
be
joined
by
five
or
six
more
,
until
the
melody
had
come
to
pour
forth
in
a
volume
as
free
and
boundless
as
Russia
herself
.
And
Pietukh
,
too
,
would
give
himself
a
shake
,
and
help
lustily
to
support
the
chorus
;
and
even
Chichikov
felt
acutely
conscious
of
the
fact
that
he
was
a
Russian
.
Only
Platon
reflected
:
"
What
is
there
so
splendid
in
these
melancholy
songs
?
They
do
but
increase
one
's
depression
of
spirits
.
"
The
journey
homeward
was
made
in
the
gathering
dusk
.
Rhythmically
the
oars
smote
a
surface
which
no
longer
reflected
the
sky
,
and
darkness
had
fallen
when
they
reached
the
shore
,
along
which
lights
were
twinkling
where
the
fisherfolk
were
boiling
live
eels
for
soup
.
Everything
had
now
wended
its
way
homeward
for
the
night
;
the
cattle
and
poultry
had
been
housed
,
and
the
herdsmen
,
standing
at
the
gates
of
the
village
cattle-pens
,
amid
the
trailing
dust
lately
raised
by
their
charges
,
were
awaiting
the
milk-pails
and
a
summons
to
partake
of
the
eel-broth
.
Through
the
dusk
came
the
hum
of
humankind
,
and
the
barking
of
dogs
in
other
and
more
distant
villages
;
while
,
over
all
,
the
moon
was
rising
,
and
the
darkened
countryside
was
beginning
to
glimmer
to
light
again
under
her
beams
.
What
a
glorious
picture
!
Yet
no
one
thought
of
admiring
it
.
Instead
of
galloping
over
the
countryside
on
frisky
cobs
,
Nikolasha
and
Aleksasha
were
engaged
in
dreaming
of
Moscow
,
with
its
confectioners
'
shops
and
the
theatres
of
which
a
cadet
,
newly
arrived
on
a
visit
from
the
capital
,
had
just
been
telling
them
;
while
their
father
had
his
mind
full
of
how
best
to
stuff
his
guests
with
yet
more
food
,
and
Platon
was
given
up
to
yawning
.
Only
in
Chichikov
was
a
spice
of
animation
visible
.
"
Yes
,
"
he
reflected
,
"
some
day
I
,
too
,
will
become
lord
of
such
a
country
place
.
"
And
before
his
mind
's
eye
there
arose
also
a
helpmeet
and
some
little
Chichikovs
.
By
the
time
that
supper
was
finished
the
party
had
again
over-eaten
themselves
,
and
when
Chichikov
entered
the
room
allotted
him
for
the
night
,
he
lay
down
upon
the
bed
,
and
prodded
his
stomach
.
"
It
is
as
tight
as
a
drum
,
"
he
said
to
himself
.
"
Not
another
titbit
of
veal
could
now
get
into
it
.
"
Also
,
circumstances
had
so
brought
it
about
that
next
door
to
him
there
was
situated
his
host
's
apartment
;
and
since
the
intervening
wall
was
thin
,
Chichikov
could
hear
every
word
that
was
said
there
.
At
the
present
moment
the
master
of
the
house
was
engaged
in
giving
the
cook
orders
for
what
,
under
the
guise
of
an
early
breakfast
,
promised
to
constitute
a
veritable
dinner
.
You
should
have
heard
Pietukh
's
behests
!
They
would
have
excited
the
appetite
of
a
corpse
.
"
Yes
,
"
he
said
,
sucking
his
lips
,
and
drawing
a
deep
breath
,
"
in
the
first
place
,
make
a
pasty
in
four
divisions
.
Into
one
of
the
divisions
put
the
sturgeon
's
cheeks
and
some
viaziga
46
,
and
into
another
division
some
buckwheat
porridge
,
young
mushrooms
and
onions
,
sweet
milk
,
calves
'
brains
,
and
anything
else
that
you
may
find
suitable
--
anything
else
that
you
may
have
got
handy
.
Also
,
bake
the
pastry
to
a
nice
brown
on
one
side
,
and
but
lightly
on
the
other
.
Yes
,
and
,
as
to
the
under
side
,
bake
it
so
that
it
will
be
all
juicy
and
flaky
,
so
that
it
shall
not
crumble
into
bits
,
but
melt
in
the
mouth
like
the
softest
snow
that
ever
you
heard
of
.
"
And
as
he
said
this
Pietukh
fairly
smacked
his
lips
.
"
The
devil
take
him
!
"
muttered
Chichikov
,
thrusting
his
head
beneath
the
bedclothes
to
avoid
hearing
more
.
"
The
fellow
wo
n't
give
one
a
chance
to
sleep
.
"
Nevertheless
he
heard
through
the
blankets
:
