The Inspector General

removed for the present. When the Inspector is gone, you may put it back again. As for your assessor, he’s an educated man, to be sure, but he reeks of spirits, as if he had just emerged from a distillery. That’s not right either. I had meant to tell you so long ago, but something or other drove the thing out of my mind. If his odor is really a congenital defect, as he says, then there are ways of remedying it. You might advise him to eat onion or garlic, or something of the sort. Christian Ivanovich can help him out with some of his nostrums. The Doctor makes the same sound as before. Ammos No, there’s no cure for it. He says his nurse struck him when he was a child, and ever since he has smelt of vodka. Governor Well, I just wanted to call your attention to it. As regards the internal administration and what Andrey Ivanovich in his letter calls “little peccadilloes,” I have nothing to say. Why, of course, there isn’t a man living who hasn’t some sins to answer for. That’s the way God made the world, and the Voltairean freethinkers can talk against it all they like, it won’t do any good. Ammos What do you mean by sins? Anton Antonovich? There are sins and sins. I tell everyone plainly that I take bribes. I make no bones about it. But what kind of bribes? White greyhound puppies. That’s quite a different matter. Governor H’m. Bribes are bribes, whether puppies or anything else. Ammos Oh, no, Anton Antonovich. But if one has a fur overcoat worth five hundred rubles, and one’s wife a shawl⁠— Governor Testily. And supposing greyhound puppies are the only bribes you take? You’re an atheist, you never go to church, while I at least am a firm believer and go to church every Sunday. You⁠—oh, I know you. When you begin to talk about the Creation it makes my flesh creep. Ammos Well, it’s a conclusion I’ve reasoned out with my own brain. Governor Too much brain is sometimes worse than none at all.⁠—However, I merely mentioned the courthouse. I dare say nobody will ever look at it. It’s an enviable place. God Almighty Himself seems to watch over it. But you, Luka Lukich, as inspector of schools, ought to have an eye on the teachers. They are very learned gentlemen, no doubt, with a college education, but they have funny habits⁠—inseparable from the profession, I know. One of them, for instance, the man with the fat face⁠—I forget his name⁠—is sure, the moment he takes his chair, to screw up his face like this. Imitates him. And then he has a trick of sticking his hand under his necktie and smoothing down his beard. It doesn’t matter, of course, if he makes a face at the pupils; perhaps it’s even necessary. I’m no judge of that. But you yourself will admit that if he does it to a visitor, it may turn out very badly. The Inspector, or anyone else, might take it as meant for himself, and then the deuce knows what might come of it. Luka But what can I do? I have told him about it time and again. Only the other day when the marshal of the nobility came into the classroom, he made such a face at him as I had never in my life seen before. I dare say it was with the best intentions; But I get reprimanded for permitting radical ideas to be instilled in the minds of the young. Governor And then I must call your attention to the history teacher. He has a lot of learning in his head and a store of facts. That’s evident. But he lectures with such ardor that he quite forgets himself. Once I listened to him. As long as he was talking about the Assyrians and Babylonians, it was not so bad. But when he reached Alexander of Macedon, I can’t describe what came over him. Upon my word, I thought a fire had broken out. He jumped down from the platform, picked up a chair and dashed it to the floor. Alexander of Macedon was a hero, it is true. But that’s no reason for breaking chairs. The state must bear the cost. Luka Yes, he is a hot one. I have spoken to him about it several times. He only says: “As you please, but in the cause of learning I will even sacrifice my life.” Governor Yes, it’s a mysterious law of fate. Your clever man is either a drunkard, or he makes such grimaces that you feel like running away. Luka Ah, Heaven save us from being in the educational department! One’s afraid of everything. Everybody meddles and wants to show that he is as clever as you. Governor Oh, that’s nothing. But this cursed incognito! All of a sudden he’ll look in: “Ah, so you’re here, my dear fellows! And who’s the judge here?” says he. “Liapkin-Tiapkin.” “Bring Liapkin-Tiapkin here.⁠—And who is the Superintendent of Charities?” “Zemlianika.”⁠—“Bring Zemlianika here!”⁠—That’s what’s bad.

Scene II

Enter Ivan Kuzmich, the Postmaster.

Postmaster	Tell me, gentlemen, who’s coming? What chinovnik?
Governor	What, haven’t you heard?
Postmaster	Bobchinsky told me. He was at the post office just now.
Governor	Well, what do you think of it?
Postmaster	What do I think of it? Why, there’ll be a war with the Turks.
Ammos	Exactly. Just what I thought.
Governor	Sarcastically. Yes, you’ve both hit in the air precisely.
Postmaster	It’s war with the Turks for sure, all fomented by the French.
Governor	Nonsense! War with the Turks indeed. It’s we who are going to get it, not the Turks. You may count on that. Here’s a letter to prove it.
Postmaster	In that case, then, we won’t go to war with the Turks.
Governor	Well, how do you feel about it, Ivan Kuzmich?
Postmaster	How do I feel? How do you feel about it, Anton Antonovich?
Governor	I? Well, I’m not afraid, but I just feel a little⁠—you know⁠—The merchants and townspeople