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- Николай Гоголь
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- Стр. 68/232
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"
Consequently
he
spent
an
uneasy
night
--
this
uneasiness
being
increased
by
the
fact
that
a
number
of
small
,
but
vigorous
,
insects
so
feasted
upon
him
that
he
could
do
nothing
but
scratch
the
spots
and
exclaim
,
"
The
devil
take
you
and
Nozdrev
alike
!
"
Only
when
morning
was
approaching
did
he
fall
asleep
.
On
rising
,
he
made
it
his
first
business
(
after
donning
dressing-gown
and
slippers
)
to
cross
the
courtyard
to
the
stable
,
for
the
purpose
of
ordering
Selifan
to
harness
the
britchka
.
Just
as
he
was
returning
from
his
errand
he
encountered
Nozdrev
,
clad
in
a
dressing-gown
,
and
holding
a
pipe
between
his
teeth
.
Host
and
guest
greeted
one
another
in
friendly
fashion
,
and
Nozdrev
inquired
how
Chichikov
had
slept
.
"
Fairly
well
,
"
replied
Chichikov
,
but
with
a
touch
of
dryness
in
his
tone
.
"
The
same
with
myself
,
"
said
Nozdrev
.
"
The
truth
is
that
such
a
lot
of
nasty
brutes
kept
crawling
over
me
that
even
to
speak
of
it
gives
me
the
shudders
.
Likewise
,
as
the
effect
of
last
night
's
doings
,
a
whole
squadron
of
soldiers
seemed
to
be
camping
on
my
chest
,
and
giving
me
a
flogging
.
Ugh
!
And
whom
also
do
you
think
I
saw
in
a
dream
?
You
would
never
guess
.
Why
,
it
was
Staff-Captain
Potsieluev
and
Lieutenant
Kuvshinnikov
!
"
"
Yes
,
"
though
Chichikov
to
himself
,
"
and
I
wish
that
they
too
would
give
you
a
public
thrashing
!
"
"
I
felt
so
ill
!
"
went
on
Nozdrev
.
"
And
just
after
I
had
fallen
asleep
something
DID
come
and
sting
me
.
Probably
it
was
a
party
of
hag
fleas
.
Now
,
dress
yourself
,
and
I
will
be
with
you
presently
.
First
of
all
I
must
give
that
scoundrel
of
a
bailiff
a
wigging
.
"
Chichikov
departed
to
his
own
room
to
wash
and
dress
;
which
process
completed
,
he
entered
the
dining-room
to
find
the
table
laid
with
tea-things
and
a
bottle
of
rum
.
Clearly
no
broom
had
yet
touched
the
place
,
for
there
remained
traces
of
the
previous
night
's
dinner
and
supper
in
the
shape
of
crumbs
thrown
over
the
floor
and
tobacco
ash
on
the
tablecloth
.
The
host
himself
,
when
he
entered
,
was
still
clad
in
a
dressing-gown
exposing
a
hairy
chest
;
and
as
he
sat
holding
his
pipe
in
his
hand
,
and
drinking
tea
from
a
cup
,
he
would
have
made
a
model
for
the
sort
of
painter
who
prefers
to
portray
gentlemen
of
the
less
curled
and
scented
order
.
"
What
think
you
?
"
he
asked
of
Chichikov
after
a
short
silence
.
"
Are
you
willing
NOW
to
play
me
for
those
souls
?
"
"
I
have
told
you
that
I
never
play
cards
.
If
the
souls
are
for
sale
,
I
will
buy
them
.
"
