a great honor and all that. But really we'd
better go as quick as we can. You see, they've taken you for somebody
else, honest. And your dad will be angry because you dilly-dallied so
long. We'd gallop off so smartly. They'd give us first-class horses
here.

KHLESTAKOV [writing]. All right. But first take this letter to the
postoffice, and, if you like, order post horses at the same time. Tell
the postilions that they should drive like couriers and sing songs, and
I'll give them a ruble each. [Continues to write.] I wager Triapichkin
will die laughing.

OSIP. I'll send the letter off by the man here. I'd rather be packing in
the meanwhile so as to lose no time.

KHLESTAKOV. All right. Bring me a candle.

OSIP [outside the door, where he is heard speaking]. Say, partner, go to
the post office and mail a letter, and tell the postmaster to frank it.
And have a coach sent round at once, the very best courier coach; and
tell them the master doesn't pay fare. He travels at the expense of the
government. And make them hurry, or else the master will be angry. Wait,
the letter isn't ready yet.

KHLESTAKOV. I wonder where he lives now, on Pochtamtskaya or Grokhovaya
Street. He likes to move often, too, to get out of paying rent. I'll
make a guess and send it to Pochtamtskaya Street. [Folds the letter and
addresses it.]

Osip brings the candle. Khlestakov seals the letter with sealing wax. At
that moment Derzhimorda's voice is heard saying: "Where are you going,
whiskers? You've been told that nobody is allowed to come in."

KHLESTAKOV [giving the letter to Osip]. There, have it mailed.

MERCHANT'S VOICE. Let us in, brother. You have no right to keep us out.
We have come on business.

DERZHIMORDA'S VOICE. Get out of here, get out of here! He doesn't
receive anybody. He's asleep.

The disturbance outside grows louder.

KHLESTAKOV. What's the matter there, Osip? See what the noise is about.

OSIP [looking through the window]. There are some merchants there
who want to come in, and the sergeant won't let them. They are waving
papers. I suppose they want to see you.

KHLESTAKOV [going to the window]. What is it, friends?

MERCHANT'S VOICE. We appeal for your protection. Give orders, your
Lordship, that our petitions be received.

KHLESTAKOV. Let them in, let them in. Osip, tell them to come in.

Osip goes out.

KHLESTAKOV [takes the petitions through the window, unfolds one of them
and reads]. "To his most honor