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- Николай Гоголь
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- Мертвые души
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- Стр. 218/232
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"
Rubbish
!
"
exclaimed
the
Prince
.
"
Even
as
before
you
besought
me
for
the
sake
of
a
wife
and
children
whom
you
did
not
even
possess
,
so
now
you
would
speak
to
me
of
an
aged
mother
!
"
"
Your
Highness
,
"
protested
Chichikov
,
"
though
I
am
a
wretch
and
the
lowest
of
rascals
,
and
though
it
is
true
that
I
lied
when
I
told
you
that
I
possessed
a
wife
and
children
,
I
swear
that
,
as
God
is
my
witness
,
it
has
always
been
my
DESIRE
to
possess
a
wife
,
and
to
fulfil
all
the
duties
of
a
man
and
a
citizen
,
and
to
earn
the
respect
of
my
fellows
and
the
authorities
.
But
what
could
be
done
against
the
force
of
circumstances
?
By
hook
or
by
crook
I
have
ever
been
forced
to
win
a
living
,
though
confronted
at
every
step
by
wiles
and
temptations
and
traitorous
enemies
and
despoilers
.
So
much
has
this
been
so
that
my
life
has
,
throughout
,
resembled
a
barque
tossed
by
tempestuous
waves
,
a
barque
driven
at
the
mercy
of
the
winds
.
Ah
,
I
am
only
a
man
,
your
Highness
!
"
And
in
a
moment
the
tears
had
gushed
in
torrents
from
his
eyes
,
and
he
had
fallen
forward
at
the
Prince
's
feet
--
fallen
forward
just
as
he
was
,
in
his
smoked-grey-shot-with-flame-colour
frockcoat
,
his
velvet
waistcoat
,
his
satin
tie
,
and
his
exquisitely
fitting
breeches
,
while
from
his
neatly
brushed
pate
,
as
again
and
again
he
struck
his
hand
against
his
forehead
,
there
came
an
odorous
whiff
of
best-quality
eau-de-Cologne
.
"
Away
with
him
!
"
exclaimed
the
Prince
to
the
gendarme
who
had
just
entered
.
"
Summon
the
escort
to
remove
him
.
"
"
Your
Highness
!
"
Chichikov
cried
again
as
he
clasped
the
Prince
's
knees
;
but
,
shuddering
all
over
,
and
struggling
to
free
himself
,
the
Prince
repeated
his
order
for
the
prisoner
's
removal
.
"
Your
Highness
,
I
say
that
I
will
not
leave
this
room
until
you
have
accorded
me
mercy
!
"
cried
Chichikov
as
he
clung
to
the
Prince
's
leg
with
such
tenacity
that
,
frockcoat
and
all
,
he
began
to
be
dragged
along
the
floor
.
"
Away
with
him
,
I
say
!
"
once
more
the
Prince
exclaimed
with
the
sort
of
indefinable
aversion
which
one
feels
at
the
sight
of
a
repulsive
insect
which
he
can
not
summon
up
the
courage
to
crush
with
his
boot
.
So
convulsively
did
the
Prince
shudder
that
Chichikov
,
clinging
to
his
leg
,
received
a
kick
on
the
nose
.
Yet
still
the
prisoner
retained
his
hold
;
until
at
length
a
couple
of
burly
gendarmes
tore
him
away
and
,
grasping
his
arms
,
hurried
him
--
pale
,
dishevelled
,
and
in
that
strange
,
half-conscious
condition
into
which
a
man
sinks
when
he
sees
before
him
only
the
dark
,
terrible
figure
of
death
,
the
phantom
which
is
so
abhorrent
to
all
our
natures
--
from
the
building
.
But
on
the
threshold
the
party
came
face
to
face
with
Murazov
,
and
in
Chichikov
's
heart
the
circumstance
revived
a
ray
of
hope
.
Wresting
himself
with
almost
supernatural
strength
from
the
grasp
of
the
escorting
gendarmes
,
he
threw
himself
at
the
feet
of
the
horror-stricken
old
man
.
"
Paul
Ivanovitch
,
"
Murazov
exclaimed
,
"
what
has
happened
to
you
?
"
