Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol theatrical tour after the presentation of a new comedy.

Theatrical traveling in the late 60s of the last century in literary and dramatic edition Central television The “Encyclopedia of Laughter” column began airing. In search of income, I ran to them. Head of the script department Elena Vladimirovna Galperina,

From Gogol’s article “An excerpt from a letter written by the author shortly after the first presentation of “The Inspector General” to a certain writer” [The addressee of the letter (which took the form of an article) is Pushkin.]... The Inspector General is played - and my soul is so vague, so strange... I expected , I knew in advance how it would go

After the presentation of the new comedy

Selected works

Theater canopy. On one side are visible stairs leading to boxes and galleries; in the middle is the entrance to the chairs and the amphitheater, on the other side is the exit. A distant roar of applause can be heard.

Two comme il faut3, of a dense nature, descend from the stairs.

First comme il faut. It would be good if the police had driven my carriage not far away. What is the name of this young actress, do you know?

Second comme il faut. No, but she’s very pretty.

First comme il faut. Yes, not bad; but something is still missing. Yes, I recommend: new restaurant: yesterday they served us fresh green peas (kisses the ends of the fingers) - delicious! (Both leave.)

An officer is running, another one is holding his hand.

Another officer. Let's stay.

First officer. No, brother, you can’t lure him into vaudeville even with a roll. We know these plays that are given as an appetizer: lackeys instead of actors, and women are freaks after freaks. (Leaves.)

A socialite, smartly dressed (coming down the stairs). The rogue tailor made me some trousers, I was always afraid of sitting awkwardly. For this I intend to drag him out for another year, and I won’t pay my debts for two years. (Leaves.)

Also a secular person, more densely (speaks with liveliness to another). Never, never, believe me, he will not sit down to play with you. Robert doesn’t play for less than one and a half hundred rubles. I know this well, because my brother-in-law, Pafnutyev, plays with him every day.

Middle-aged official (coming out with arms outstretched). This is just the devil knows what!.. This!.. This!.. This is like nothing else. (Gone.)

Gentleman, somewhat carefree about literature (addressing another). After all, this, however, seems to be a translation?

Another. For mercy's sake, what a translation! The action takes place in Russia, even our customs and ranks.

Mr. carefree about literature. I remember, however, there was something in French, not quite like that. (Both leave.)

One of the two spectators (also exiting). Now nothing can be known yet. Wait, what will they say in the magazines, then you will find out.

Two bekes (one for the other). How are you? I would like to know your opinion about comedy.

Another bekesha (making significant movements with her lips). Yes, of course, it’s impossible to say that it didn’t happen... in its own way... Well, of course, who is against it, so that it doesn’t happen again and... where, so to speak... but anyway. .. (Pressing his lips affirmatively.) Yes, yes! (They leave.)

Two officers.

One. I've never laughed so hard before.

Another. I think it's a great comedy.

First. Well, no, let's see what they say in the magazines: we need to subject ourselves to criticism... Look, look! (Pushes him by the arm.)

Second. What?

First (pointing his finger at one of the two walking up the stairs). Writer!

Second (hurriedly). Which?

First. This. Shh! Let's listen to what they say.

Second. And who is the other one with him?

First. I don’t know: I don’t know what kind of person he is. (Both officers step aside and give them space.)

It is unknown what kind of person. I cannot judge as to literary merit; but I think there are some witty notes. Spicy, spicy.

Writer. For mercy's sake, what's so witty here? What kind of low people were brought out, what kind of tone? The jokes are the flattest; It's just too greasy!

It is unknown what kind of person. Ah, that's another matter. That’s what I say: I can’t judge in terms of literary merit; I just noticed that the play was funny and enjoyable.

Writer. And it's not funny. For mercy's sake, what's funny and what's the fun? The plot is incredible. All the inconsistencies; no plot, no action, no consideration whatsoever.

It is unknown what kind of person. Well, I’m not saying anything against this. In a literary sense, yes, in a literary sense it is not funny; but in relation, so to speak, from the outside, there is...

Writer. So what is there? For mercy's sake, this isn't even there! Well, what kind of spoken language is this? Who says that in high society? Well, tell me yourself, well, are we talking to you, that way?

It is unknown what kind of person. This is true; You noticed this very subtly. Exactly, I was thinking about this myself: there is no nobility in conversation. All the faces seem as if they cannot hide their low nature - this is true.

Writer. Well, you still praise!

It is unknown what kind of person. Who is praising? I'm not praising. I myself now see that the play is nonsense. But suddenly it’s impossible to find out, I can’t judge from a literary point of view. (Both leave.)

Another writer (enters accompanied by listeners, to whom he speaks, waving his arms). Believe me, I know this stuff: a disgusting play, a dirty, dirty play! There is not a single true face, all are caricatures! This is not the case in nature, believe me, no, I know it better: I am a writer myself. They say: liveliness, observation... but this is all nonsense, these are all friends, friends praise, all friends! I’ve already heard that they are almost sticking it in the Fonvizins, and the play is simply unworthy even to be called a comedy. Farce, farce, and the worst farce. The last empty comedy of Kotzebue4 in comparison with it is Mont Blanc in front of the Pulkovo Mountain. I will prove this to them all, I will prove it mathematically, like twice makes two. It’s just that his friends and acquaintances praised him beyond measure, and now he thinks of himself that he’s almost Shakespeare. Our friends will always praise you. Here, for example, is Pushkin. Why is all of Russia talking about him now? All the friends screamed and shouted, and then, after them, all of Russia began to scream. (Leaves with the audience.)

Both officers (lean forward and take their places).

First. This is fair, this is absolutely fair: namely, a farce; I've said this before, a stupid farce supported by friends. I admit, a lot of it was even disgusting to look at.

Second. But you said that you have never laughed so much before?

First. And this is again another matter. You don't understand, you need to explain. What's in this play? Firstly, there is no plot, no action, absolutely no consideration; all improbabilities and, moreover, all caricatures.

Two other officers are behind.

One (to another). Who is talking about this? It seems like one of yours?

The other, looking sideways into the face of the one arguing, waved his hand.

First. What, stupid?

Second. No, not really. He has a mind, but now that the magazine is out, and the book is late, there’s nothing in his head. - But, nevertheless, let's go. (They leave.)

Two art lovers.

First. I am not at all one of those who resort only to words: dirty, disgusting, bad taste and the like. It is almost a proven fact that such words mostly come from the mouths of those who themselves are of a very dubious tone, talk about living rooms and are only allowed into the hallways. But this is not about them. What I'm saying is that there's definitely no ending to the play.

Second. Yes, if we take the plot in the sense in which it is usually taken, that is, in the sense of a love affair, then it definitely doesn’t exist. But, it seems, it’s time to stop relying so far on this eternal tie. It's worth taking a closer look around. Everything changed a long time ago in the world. Now the drama is more strongly tied up by the desire to get an advantageous place, to shine and outshine, at all costs, the other, to avenge neglect, for ridicule. Isn’t it now more important to have electricity, money capital, and a profitable marriage than love?

First. This is all good; but in this regard, I still don’t see the plot in the play.

Second. Now I will not say whether the play has a plot or not. I will only say that in general they are looking for a private connection and do not want to see a general one. People have become innocently accustomed to these incessant lovers, without whose marriage the play cannot end. Of course, this is a plot, but what kind of plot? - an exact knot on the corner of the scarf. No, comedy should knit itself together, with its entire mass, into one big common knot. The plot should embrace all faces, not just one or two - touch what worries, more or less, all the actors. Every hero is here; the flow and progress of the play produces a shock to the entire machine: not a single wheel should remain as rusty and not included in the work.

First. But everyone can't be a hero; one or two must control the others.

Second. Not to manage at all, but perhaps to dominate. And in a car, some wheels move more noticeably and move more strongly; they can only be called the main ones; but the play is ruled by an idea, a thought: without it there is no unity in it. But anything can get stuck: horror itself, the fear of waiting, the threat of the law moving in the distance...

First. But this ends up giving comedy some more universal meaning.

Second. But isn’t this its direct and real meaning? Already at the very beginning, comedy was a social, folk creation. At least, this is how her father, Aristophanes, showed her. Afterwards she entered the narrow gorge of a private plot, introduced a love affair, the same indispensable plot. But how weak this connection is for the best comedians! how insignificant are these theatrical lovers with their cardboard love!

Third (coming up and lightly hitting him on the shoulder). You're wrong: love, like other feelings, can also enter into comedy.

Second. I'm not saying she can't come in. But only love and all other feelings, more sublime, will only make a high impression when they are developed in all depth. Having occupied yourself with them, you must inevitably sacrifice everything else. All that is precisely the side of comedy will then fade, and the meaning of social comedy will certainly disappear.

Third. Therefore, the subject of comedy must necessarily be the base? The comedy will be of a low order.

Second. For someone who will look at the words and not delve into the meaning, this is so. But can't positive and negative serve the same purpose? Can't comedy and tragedy express the same high thought? Doesn’t everything, down to the slightest crook of the soul of a vile and dishonest person, already paint the image of an honest person? Doesn’t all this accumulation of baseness, deviations from laws and justice already make it clear what law, duty and justice require of us? In the hands of a skilled doctor, both cold and hot water treat the same diseases with equal success: in the hands of talent, everything can serve as an instrument for the beautiful, if only it is guided by the lofty thought of serving the beautiful.

Fourth (approaching). What can serve as a beautiful thing and what are you talking about?

First. We started arguing about comedy. We're all talking about comedy in general, but no one has said anything about a new comedy yet. What do you say?

Fourth. But I’ll say this: you can see talent, observation of life, a lot of funny, true, taken from life; but in general there is something missing in the whole play. Somehow you don’t see either the beginning or the ending. It's strange that our comedians can't do without the government. Without it, you won't be able to pull off a single comedy.

Third. This is true. But, on the other hand, it is very natural. We all belong to the government, we all almost serve; the interests of all of us are more or less united with the government. Therefore, it is not surprising that this is reflected in the works of our writers.

Fourth. So. Well, let this connection be heard; but the funny thing is that the play cannot end without the government. It will certainly appear, like an inevitable fate in the tragedies of the ancients.

Second. Well, you see: therefore, this is already something involuntary among our comedians. Therefore, this already constitutes some distinctive character of our comedy. In our breasts lies some kind of secret faith in the government. Well? there is nothing bad here: God grant that the government always and everywhere hears its calling - to be the representative of providence on earth, and that we believe in it, as the ancients believed in the fate that overtook crimes.

Fifth. Hello, gentlemen! All I hear is the word "government". The comedy aroused shouts and chatter...

Second. It’s better to talk about these noises and shouts with me than here in the theater vestibule. (They leave.)

Several respectable and decently dressed people appear one after another.

N 1. So; So, I see: this is true, it happens here and worse happens in other places; but for what purpose, why bring this out? - that's the question! Why these performances? What's the use of them? - that's what you allow me! Why do I need to know that there are rogues in such and such a place? I just... I don't understand the need for such ideas. (Leaves.)

No. 2. No, this is not a ridicule of vices; this is a disgusting mockery of Russia - that’s what. This means making the government itself look bad, because putting bad officials and abuses that occur in different classes means making the government itself look bad. Such ideas should not be allowed. (Leaves.)

Enter Mr. A. and Mr. B., people of no small rank.

Mr. A. I'm talking about this; on the contrary, we need to show abuses; we need to see our wrongdoings; and I do not at all share the opinions of many overly excited patriots; but it just seems to me that there isn’t too much of something sad here...

Mr. B. I would really like you to hear the remark of one very modestly dressed man who was sitting in the chair next to me... Oh, there he is!

Mister A. Who?

Mr. B. It is this very modestly dressed man. (Addressing him.) You and I have not finished the conversation, the beginning of which was so interesting to me.

A very modestly dressed man. And I admit, I’m very happy to continue it. Just now I heard rumors, namely: that this is all untrue, that this is a mockery of the government, of our customs, and that this should not be imagined at all. This made me mentally remember and embrace the entire play, and I confess that the expression of the comedy seemed even more wonderful to me now. In it, it seems to me, hypocrisy is most powerfully and deeply affected by laughter, a decent mask, under which is baseness and meanness, a rogue making a face at a well-meaning person. I confess that I felt joy, seeing how ridiculous the well-intentioned words were in the mouth of the rogue, and how hilariously funny the mask he put on became for everyone, from the chairs to the paradise. And after that there are people who say that there is no need to put this on stage! I heard one remark made, as it seemed to me, however, by a rather decent person: “What will the people say when they see that we have these kinds of abuses?”

Mr. A. I confess, you will excuse me, but I myself also involuntarily asked the question: what will our people say, looking at all this?

A very modestly dressed man. What will the people say? (He steps aside and two people in army jackets pass by.)

Blue overcoat to gray. Probably, the commanders were quick, but everyone turned pale when the royal reprisal came! (Both go out.)

A very modestly dressed man. This is what the people will say, have you heard?

Mr. A. What?

A very modestly dressed man. He will say: “I suppose the commanders were quick, but everyone turned pale when the royal reprisal came!” Do you hear how true a person is to natural instinct and feeling? How true is the simplest eye, if it is not clouded by theories and thoughts pulled from books, but draws them from the very nature of man! Isn't it obviously clear that after such a presentation the people will have more faith in the government? Yes, he needs such ideas. Let him separate the government from the bad executors of the government. Let him see that abuses occur not from the government, but from those who do not understand the demands of the government, from those who do not want to answer to the government. Let him see that the government is noble, that its watchful eye is equally watchful over everyone, that sooner or later it will overtake those who have betrayed the law, honor and sacred duty of man, that those with a bad conscience will turn pale before it. Yes, he should see these ideas; Believe me, even if he happens to experience pressure and injustice, he will come out comforted after such a performance with a firm faith in the ever-watchful higher law. I also like the remark: “the people will get a bad opinion of their bosses.” That is, they imagine that the people will see their leaders only here, for the first time, in the theater; that if at home some rogue elder squeezes him in his paw, he will never see this, but when he goes to the theater, he will see it. They really think our people are stupider than a log, stupid to such an extent that it’s as if they can’t tell which pie is with meat and which is porridge. No, now, it seems to me, it’s even good that an honest person was not brought onto the stage. A person is proud: show him one good side despite many bad sides, and he will proudly leave the theater. No, it’s good that only exceptions and vices are exposed, which now prick the eyes to the point that they do not want to be their compatriots, they are ashamed to even admit that this could be.

Mister A. But is it really possible that exactly such people exist among us?

A very modestly dressed man. Let me tell you this: I don't know why I feel sad every time I hear a question like this. I can speak to you frankly: in the features of your faces I see something that predisposes me to frankness. The first thing a person does is ask: “Do such people really exist?” But when has a person ever been seen to ask the following question: “Am I really clean from such vices?” Never ever! Well, here’s the thing, I’ll speak to you frankly, I have a good heart, there’s a lot of love in my chest, but if you knew what mental efforts and shocks I needed in order not to fall into many of the vicious inclinations that you fall into unwittingly, living with people! And how can I say now that this very minute I do not have in me those very inclinations that everyone just laughed at ten minutes ago and at which I myself laughed?

Mr. A. (after some silence). I admit, your words will make you think about it. And when I remember, I’ll imagine how proud our European upbringing made us, in general how it hid us from ourselves, how haughtily and with what contempt we look at those who have not received an external polish similar to us, how each of us puts ourselves a little not to saints, but always speaks about evil in the third person - then, I confess, my soul involuntarily becomes sad... But forgive my immodesty - you, however, are to blame for it yourself - let me find out: with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?

A very modestly dressed man. And I am no more or less than one of those officials whose positions were promoted to comedic figures, and I just arrived from my town the day before.

Mr. B. I couldn't think of that. And don’t you think it’s a shame after this to live and serve with such people?

A very modestly dressed man. It's a shame? But I’ll tell you what: I confess that I often had to lose patience. In our town, not all officials are honest; Often you have to climb a wall to do some good deed. Several times already I wanted to quit the service; but now, precisely after this performance, I feel freshness and at the same time new strength to continue my career. I am already comforted by the thought that our meanness does not remain hidden or condoned, that there, in the sight of all noble people, it is struck with ridicule, that there is a pen that will not hesitate to detect our base movements, although this does not flatter our national pride, and that there is a noble government that will allow this to be shown to everyone who should be seen; and this alone gives me the zeal to continue my useful service.

Mr. A. Let me make you one proposal. I hold a fairly significant government position. I need truly noble and honest helpers. I offer you a place where you will have a wide field of action, where you will receive incomparably more benefits and will be visible.

A very modestly dressed man. Let me thank you with all my heart and soul for such an offer and at the same time allow me to refuse it. If I already feel that I am useful to my place, is it noble of me to leave it? And how can I leave him without being firmly sure that some fellow won’t sit after me and start doing squeezes. If this offer is made by you in the form of a reward, then let me tell you: I applauded the author of the play along with others, but I did not challenge him. What is his reward? If you liked the play, praise it, but he, he just fulfilled his duty. In our country, really, it has come to such a point that not only on the occasion of some heroic deed, but simply, unless someone does harm to anyone, in life and in service, then he already considers himself God knows what kind of virtuous person, gets seriously angry, if not notice and do not reward him. “For mercy,” he says, “I lived honestly for a whole century, did almost no mean things at all—how come they don’t give me either a rank or an order?” No, for me, anyone who cannot be noble without encouragement - I do not believe in his nobility; His mouse nobility is not worth a penny.

Mr. A. At least you will not refuse me your acquaintance. Forgive my persistence; you yourself see that it is a consequence of my sincere respect. Give me your address.

A very modestly dressed man. Here's my address; but rest assured that I will not allow you to use it and will come to you tomorrow morning. Excuse me, I was not brought up in great society and do not know how to speak... But to meet such generous attention in a statesman, such a desire for good... God grant that every sovereign be surrounded by such people! (He leaves quickly.)

Mr. A. (turning over the card in his hands). I look at this card and this unknown surname, and somehow my soul feels full. This initially sad impression dissipated by itself. God bless you, our little-known Russia! In the wilderness, in your forgotten corner, a similar pearl is hiding, and, probably, he is not alone. They, like sparks of gold ore, are scattered among its rough and dark granites. There is a deeply comforting feeling in this phenomenon, and my soul was illuminated after meeting this official, just as his own was illuminated after the performance of the comedy. Farewell! Thank you for bringing this meeting to me. (Leaves.)

Mr. V. (approaching Mr. B.). Who was that with you? Looks like he's a minister, huh?

Mr. P. (coming from the other side). For mercy, brother, well, what is this, how is it really?..

Mr. B. What?

Mr. P. Well, how can we derive this?

Mr. B. Why not?

Mr. P. Well, judge for yourself: well, how is it, right? All vices, yes vices; Well, what example will this set for the audience?

Mr. B. Is it possible to boast about vices? After all, they are brought out to ridicule.

Mister P. Well, that’s it, brother, whatever you say: respect... because through this, respect for officials and positions is lost.

Mr. B. Respect is not lost either for officials or for positions, but for those who perform their positions poorly.

Mr. V. But let me note, however: all this, in some way, is already an insult that more or less applies to everyone.

Mr. P. Exactly. This is what I myself wanted to notice to him. This is exactly the insult that is being spread. Now, for example, they will bring out some titular councilor, and then... uh... perhaps they will bring out... and an actual state councilor...

Mr. B. Well, so what? The person must only be inviolable; and if I invented my own person, and gave him some of the vices that happen between us, and gave him the rank that I wanted, even if it were an actual state councilor, and I would say that this real state councilor is not like follows: what's wrong with that? Isn’t there a goose among actual state councilors?

Mr. P. Well, brother, this is too much. How can a goose be an actual state councilor? Well, even if it’s just a titular one... No, you’re too much.

Mr. V. Instead of exposing the bad, why not exposing the good, worthy of imitation?

Mr. B. Why? strange question: "why?" There are a lot of “why” things you can do. Why did one father, wanting to tear his son out of a disorderly life, did not waste words and instructions, but brought him to the infirmary, where the terrible traces of a disordered life appeared before him in all their horror? Why did he do this?

Mr. V. But let me point out to you: these are in some ways our social wounds that need to be hidden, not shown.

Mr. P. It's true. I completely agree with this. With us, bad things need to be hidden, not shown.

Mr. B. If these words were spoken by someone else, and not by you, I would say that they were driven by hypocrisy, and not by true love for the fatherland. In your opinion, you just need to close, somehow heal these, as you call, social wounds from the outside, as long as they are not visible for now, and let the disease rage inside - there is no need for that. There is no need that it can explode and show up with such symptoms when any treatment is already too late. There is no need before that. You don’t want to know that without a deep heartfelt confession, without a Christian consciousness of our sins, without exaggerating them in our own eyes, we are not able to rise above them, we are not able to fly in soul above the despicable in life. You don’t want to know this! Let a person remain deaf, let him go through his life sleepily, let him not tremble, let him not cry in the depths of his heart, let him reduce his soul to such a state of sleep that nothing can shock it! No... forgive me! Cold selfishness moves the lips that utter such speeches, and not holy, pure love for humanity. (Leaves.)

Mr. P. (after some silence). Why are you silent? What? What did you say, huh?

Mr. V. (silent).

Mr. P. (continuing). He can tell himself what he wants, but after all, our wounds, so to speak.

Mr. V. (to the side). Well, these wounds caught his tongue! He will talk about them to both those who meet him and those who cross him!

Mister P. That way, perhaps, I can say a lot of things, but what of it?.. But Prince N. Listen, prince, don’t go!

Prince N. What?

Mr. P. Well, let's talk, stop! Well, how was the play?

Prince N. Yes, funny.

Mr. P. But, however, tell me: how to imagine this? what does it look like...

Prince N. Why not introduce it?

Mister P. Well, judge for yourself, well, how can it be: suddenly there is a rogue on stage - after all, these are all our wounds.

Prince N. What wounds?

Mr. P. Yes, these are our wounds, our, so to speak, social wounds.

Prince N. (with annoyance). Take them for yourself! Let them be your wounds, not mine! Why are you poking them at me? I must go home. (Leaves.)

Mr. P. (continuing). And then again, what kind of nonsense did he say here? He says: an actual state councilor can be a goose. Well, even if it’s titular, that can be allowed...

Mr. V. However, let’s go and fully interpret; I think everyone passing by has already learned that you are a valid state councilor. (Aside.) There are people who have the art of criticizing everything. Having repeated your thought, they know how to make it so vulgar that you yourself blush. If you say something stupid, it might just slip by unnoticed - no, you will find an admirer and friend who will certainly use it and make it even stupider than it is. It’s really annoying: he really put him in the mud. (They leave.)

The military man and the civilian come out together.

State. After all, that’s what you are, military gentlemen! You say: “this needs to be put on stage”; you are ready to have a good laugh at some civilian official; and somehow touch on the military, just say that there are officers in such and such a regiment, not to mention vicious inclinations, but just say: there are officers of bad taste, with indecent manners - and because of this alone you are ready to complain to the State Council itself.

Military. Well, listen, who do you think I am? Of course, there are such Donquishots among us, but believe also that there are many truly reasonable people who will always be happy if a title that discredits the import is exposed to general ridicule. And where is the offense here? Serve it, give it to us! We are ready to watch every day.

Statsky (to the side). This is how a person always shouts: “Serve it! Serve it!” and if you give it, he’ll get angry. (They leave.)

Two bekes.

The first bekesha. The French too, for example; but they are all very nice. Well, you remember, in yesterday’s vaudeville: he undresses, goes to bed, grabs the salad bowl from the table and puts it under the bed. It is, of course, immodest, but cute. You can look at all this, it doesn’t offend... My wife and children are at the theater every day. And here - well, what is this, right? - some scoundrel, a man whom I wouldn’t let into the hallway, lounging with his boots, yawning or picking his teeth - well, what is this, right? what does it look like?

Another bekesha. The French are different. There society, mon cher6, This is impossible with us. Our writers have absolutely no education at all: all this was mostly brought up in the seminary. He is also inclined towards wine, he is also a slut. A certain writer also came to visit my footman: where could he have the concept of good society? (They leave.)

A society lady (accompanied by two men: one in a tailcoat, the other in a uniform). But what kind of people, what kind of faces are drawn! at least one attracted... Well, why don’t we write like the French write, for example, like Dumas and others? I do not demand paragons of virtue; bring me a woman who would be mistaken, who would even cheat on her husband, who would give herself up, let’s say, to the most vicious and unauthorized love; but imagine it in a fascinating way, so that I would be motivated by her fate, so that I would fall in love with her... But here all the faces are one more disgusting than the other.

A man in a uniform. Yes, trivial, trivial.

Society lady. Tell me: why is everything still so trivial in Russia?

A man in a tailcoat. My soul, later you will tell me why it is trivial: they are shouting for our carriage. (They leave.)

Three men enter together.

First. Why not laugh? you can laugh; but what kind of subject for ridicule are abuses and vices? What a mockery here!

Second. So what is there to laugh about? Is it above the virtues, above the merits of man?

First. No; Yes, this is not a subject for comedy, my dear! This already concerns the government in some way. As if there are no other subjects to write about?

Second. What other items?

First. Well, you never know there are all sorts of funny social occasions? Well, let’s say, for example, I went on a walk to Aptekarsky Island, and the coachman suddenly took me there to Vyborgskaya or to the Smolny Monastery. Are there a lot of funny clutches?

Second. That is, you want to take away all serious meaning from comedy. But why issue an indispensable law? There are plenty of comedies in the exact taste you want. Why not allow the existence of two or three such as was played now? If you like the ones you are talking about, just go to the theater: there every day you will see a play where one hid under a chair, and another pulled him out by his leg.

Third. Well, no, listen: that's not it. Everything has its limits. There are things that, so to speak, should not be laughed at, which in some way are already sacred.

Second (to himself, with a bitter smile). It’s always like this in the world: laugh at what is truly noble, at what constitutes the highest shrine of the soul, no one will become an intercessor; Laugh at the vicious, vile and base - everyone will shout: “He is laughing at the sacred.”

First. Well, you see, I see you are now convinced: don’t say a word. Believe me, one cannot help but be convinced: this is the truth. I myself am an impartial person, and I’m not saying that... but, simply, this is not an author’s business, this is not a subject for comedy. (They leave.)

Second (to myself). I admit, I would never want to be in the author’s place. Please please! Choose unimportant secular cases, everyone will say: “He writes nonsense, there is no deep moral purpose”; choose a subject that has any serious moral purpose - they will say: “It’s none of his business, write nonsense!” (Leaves.)

A young lady of high society accompanied by her husband.

Husband. Our carriage should not be far away, we can leave soon.

Mr. N. (approaching the lady). What do I see! You have come to watch a Russian play!

Young lady. What's wrong with that? Am I no longer a patriot?

Mr. N. Well, if so, then you haven’t really satisfied your patriotism. Are you really criticizing the play?

Young lady. Not at all. I find a lot of things to be very true: I laughed heartily.

Mr. N. Why were you laughing? Is it because you like to laugh at everything that is Russian?

Young lady. Because it was just funny. Because that meanness, baseness was brought out, which, no matter what dress she dressed up in, even if it was not in a provincial town, but here, around us, it would be the same meanness or baseness: that’s why she laughed.

Mr. N. Just now one very smart lady told me that she also laughed, but that for all that the play made a sad impression on her.

Young lady. I don't want to know what your smart lady felt; but my nerves are not so sensitive, and I am always happy to laugh at what is internally funny. I know that there are some of us who are ready to laugh with all our hearts at a person’s crooked nose and do not have the courage to laugh at a person’s crooked soul.

(A young lady with her husband also appears in the distance.)

Mister N. Oh, here comes your friend. I'd like to know her opinion about comedy. (Both ladies shake hands with each other.)

First lady. I saw you laugh from afar.

Second lady. Who didn't laugh? everyone laughed.

Mr. N. Didn’t you feel any sad feeling?

Second lady. I admit, I was definitely sad. I know this is all very true; I myself also saw a lot of this, but for all that it was hard for me.

Mr. N. So you didn’t like the comedy?

Second lady. Well, listen, who is saying this? I’m already telling you that I laughed with all my heart, and even more than everyone else; I think they even took me for crazy... But I was sad because I would like to rest on at least one kind face. Ego excess and a lot of low...

Mister N. Speak, speak!

The first lady's husband. But this is exactly what you don’t recommend. Ladies certainly want a knight, so that he will immediately repeat to them every word about nobility, even in the most vulgar syllable.

Second lady. Not at all. How little you know us! This belongs to you! You just love only words and talk about nobility. I heard the judgment of one of you: one fat man shouted so that, I think, he made everyone turn on him - that this is slander, that such baseness and meanness are never done among us. Who spoke? - The lowest and most vile person who is ready to sell his soul, conscience and everything you want. I just don't want to call him by name.

Mister N. Well, tell me, who was it?

Second lady. Why do you need to know? Yes, he is not alone; I constantly heard people shouting around us: “This is a disgusting mockery of Russia, a mockery of the government! But how can we allow this? But what will the people say?” Why were they screaming? Was it because they actually thought and felt it? - Sorry. Because they wanted to make a splash, so that the play would be banned, because they might have found something similar to themselves in it. These are your real, not theatrical knights!

The first lady's husband. ABOUT! Yes, a little anger is beginning to arise in you!

Second lady. Anger, just anger. Yes, I'm angry, very angry. And one cannot help but be evil, seeing how meanness appears under all sorts of guises.

The first lady's husband. Well, yes: you would like a knight to jump out now, jump over some abyss, break his neck...

Second lady. Sorry.

The first lady's husband. Natural: what does a woman need? “She definitely needs romance in her life.”

Second lady. No no no! I’m ready to say two hundred times: no! This is a vulgar, old idea that you constantly impose on us. A woman has more true generosity than a man. A woman cannot, a woman is not able to do the meanness and nasty things that you do. A woman cannot be a hypocrite where you are a hypocrite, she cannot turn a blind eye to the baseness that you look at. There is enough nobility in her to say all this without looking around whether anyone will like it or not - because it needs to be said. What is vile is vile, no matter how you hide it and what kind of appearance you give it. This is vile, vile!

The first lady's husband. Yes, I see you are angry in all respects.

Second lady. Because I'm frank and I can't stand it when people tell lies.

The first lady's husband. Well, don't be angry, give me your pen! I was joking.

Second lady. Here's my hand, I'm not angry. (Addressing Mr. N.) Listen, advise the author to bring out a noble and honest person in comedy.

Mr. N. How can I do this? Well, what if he brings out an honest man, and this honest man looks like a theatrical knight?

Second lady. No, if he feels strongly and deeply, then his hero will not be a theatrical knight.

Mr. N. But, I think it’s not so easy to do.

Second lady. Simply, say better that your author does not have deep and strong heart movements.

Mr. N. Why is this so?

Second lady. Well, whoever laughs incessantly and forever cannot have too high feelings: he cannot be familiar with what only a tender heart feels.

Mister N. That's good! So, in your opinion, the author should not be a noble person?

Second lady. Well, you see, you are now interpreting it in the other direction. I am not saying a word about the comedian not having nobility and a strict concept of honor in the entire sense of the word. I’m only saying that he couldn’t... shed a heartfelt tear, love something deeply, with all the depths of his soul.

The second lady's husband. But how can you say this in the affirmative?

Second lady. I can because I know. All the people who laughed or were mockers, they were all proud, all almost selfish; of course, noble egoists, but still egoists.

Mr. N. So, you strongly prefer only that type of writing where only high human movements are at work?

Second lady. O, sure! I will always rank them higher, and, I confess, I have more spiritual faith in such an author.

The husband of the first lady (addressing Mr. N). Well, don't you see that it's the same thing again? This is a woman's taste. For them, the most vulgar tragedy is higher than the best comedy, simply because it is a tragedy...

Second lady. Shut up, I'll be angry again. (Addressing Mr. N.) Well, tell me, didn’t I say the truth: after all, a comedian must certainly have a cold soul?

The second lady's husband. Or hot, because irritability of character also excites to ridicule and satire.

Second lady. Well, or irritable. But what does this mean? - This means that the cause of such works was still bile, bitterness, indignation, perhaps fair in all respects. But there is nothing that would show that this was generated by a high love for humanity... in a word, love. Is not it?

Mr. N. It's true.

Mr. N. How can I tell you? I don’t know him so briefly that I can judge his soul. But, considering everything I heard about him, he must definitely be either an egoist or a very irritable person.

Second lady. Well, you see, I knew this well.

First lady. I don’t know why, but I wouldn’t want him to be selfish.

The first lady's husband. But here comes our footman, so the carriage is ready. Farewell. (Shaking the hand of the second lady.) You are coming to us, aren’t you? Do we drink tea here?

First lady (leaving). Please!

Second lady. Definitely.

The second lady's husband. It seems our carriage is also ready. (They go after them.)

Two spectators come out.

First. Explain this to me: why, examining each action, face and character separately, you see: all this is true, vivid, taken from life, but together it already seems like something huge, exaggerated, caricatured, so that, leaving the theater, you involuntarily ask : Do such people really exist? And yet they are not exactly villains.

Second. Not at all, they are not villains at all. They are exactly what the proverb says: “not a bad soul, but simply a rogue.”

First. And then one more thing: this enormous accumulation, this excess - isn’t this already a lack of comedy? Tell me, where is there such a society that would consist entirely of such people, so that there would not be, if not half, then at least some part of decent people? If comedy is to be a picture and a mirror of our social life, then it must reflect it in all fidelity.

Second. Firstly, in my opinion, this comedy is not a painting at all, but rather a frontispiece. You see, both the scene and the location are perfect. Otherwise, the author would not have made obvious errors and anachronisms, and would not have even inserted into other persons those speeches that, by their nature and by the place occupied by the persons, do not belong to them. Only the first irritability accepted as personality that which does not have even a shadow of personality and that belongs more or less to the personality of all people. This is a gathering place: from everywhere, from different corners Russia, exceptions to truth, error and abuse flocked here to serve one idea - to produce in the viewer a bright, noble disgust from many something base. The impression is even stronger because none of the persons cited have lost their human image: the human is heard everywhere. This makes the heart shudder even deeper. And laughing, the viewer involuntarily turns back, as if feeling that what he laughed at is close to him, and that every minute he must stand on guard so that it does not burst into his own soul. I think the funniest thing is for the author to hear reproaches: “Why aren’t his faces and characters attractive,” while he used everything to push them away. Yes, if at least one honest person were placed in a comedy, and placed with all the fascination, then everyone would go over to the side of this honest person and would completely forget about those who now frightened them so much. These images, perhaps, would not appear incessantly, as if alive, after the end of the performance; the viewer would not carry away the sad feeling and say: “Do such people really exist?”

First. Yes. Well, this, however, will not suddenly be understood.

Second. Very natural. The inner meaning is always comprehended later. And the more alive, the brighter the images in which he has clothed himself and into which he has fragmented, the more everyone’s attention is focused on the images. Only by adding them together will you get the result and meaning of creation. But not everyone can disassemble and put together such letters quickly, read the tops and suddenly; Until then, they will see only letters for a long time. And you will see, here I am telling you this in advance: first of all, every district town in Russia will be angry and will claim that this is an evil satire, a vulgar, base invention aimed specifically at it. (They leave.)

One official. This is a vulgar, low invention; This is satire, libel!

Another official. Now, that means there is nothing left. There is no need for laws, there is no need to serve. The uniform I’m wearing means I need to throw it away: he’s already a rag now.

Two young people are running.

One. Well, everyone got angry. I've heard so much talk that I can, by looking, guess what everyone thinks about the play.

Another. Well, what does this guy think?

First. This is the one who puts his overcoat in his sleeves?

Another. Yes.

First. This is what he thinks: “You should be sent to Nerchinsk for such a comedy!..” However, it seems that the upper population was moved; Vaudeville, apparently, is over. Now the commoners will rush in. Let's leave! (Both leave.)

(The noise increases; running is heard along all the stairs. Coats, sheepskin coats, caps, German long-brimmed caftans of merchants are running. Triangular hats and plumes, overcoats of all kinds: frieze, military, second-hand and smart - with beavers. The crowd pushes the gentleman wearing an overcoat in his sleeve ; the gentleman steps aside and continues to put it on to the side. Gentlemen and officials of all kinds and sorts appear in the crowd. Footmen in livery clear the way for the ladies. A woman’s cry is heard: “Fathers, they’ve pushed in from all sides!”)

A young official of an evasive nature (running up to the gentleman putting on his overcoat). Your Excellency, let me hold it for you!

Gentleman in an overcoat. Ah, hello! Are you here? Have you come to watch?

A young official. Yes, your Excellency, a funny point.

Gentleman in an overcoat. Nonsense! nothing funny!

A young official. It's true, Your Excellency: there is nothing at all.

Gentleman in an overcoat. For these things you need to be flogged, not praised.

A young official. It's true, Your Excellency!

Gentleman in an overcoat. So, they let young people into the theater. They will take away a lot of useful things! Here you are: now, tea, will you come to the office and become downright rude?

A young official. How is it possible, Your Excellency!.. Let me clear the way forward for you! (To the people, pushing one and the other.) Hey, you, step aside, the general is coming! (Approaching two smartly dressed men with extraordinary courtesy.) Gentlemen, do me a favor and allow the general to pass!

Well dressed, stepping aside and giving way.

First. Don't know which general? Must be someone famous?

Second. I don't know, I've never seen him.

The official has a talkative quality (picking up from behind). It’s just that, as a state councilor, he’s only registered in the fourth grade. What is happiness? In fifteen years of service, Vladimir, Anna, Stanislav, 3,000 rubles in salary, two thousand canteens, from the council, from the commission, and even from the department.

Gentlemen well dressed (one to another). Let's leave! (They leave.)

The official has a talkative quality. Must be mother's boys. Tea, they serve on a foreign board. I don't like comedies; I prefer tragedies. (Leaves.)

OFFICER (making his way with the lady on his arm). Hey, you beards, what are you pushing? Don't you see - lady?

Merchant (with a lady on his arm). They themselves, father, have a lady.

Merchant's voice. If you please see, it is here more, so to speak, from the moral side. Of course, there are, so to speak, all sorts of things, sir. But even then, if you please, it’s necessary to judge that even an honest person will have to... And as for morality, this is also the case with nobles.

Two officers, recognizing each other, talk across the crowd.

First. Michelle, are you there?

Second. There.

First. Well, I'm there too.

An official of important appearance. I would ban everything. There is no need to print anything. Use enlightenment, read, don’t write. Enough books have been written; no more are needed.

A handsome and stout gentleman (speaks with fervor to the plain and short man). Morality, morality suffers, that’s the main thing!

The gentleman is short and nondescript, but of a poisonous nature. But morality is a relative thing.

Handsome and dense gentleman. What do you mean by "relative"?

A nondescript, but poisonous gentleman. The fact that everyone measures morality in relation to himself. One calls it moral to take off his hat in the street; another calls it morality to turn a blind eye to how he steals; the third calls the services provided to his mistress moral. After all, what does each of our brethren usually say to his subordinates? - He says from above: “Dear sir, try to fulfill your duty regarding God, the sovereign, the fatherland,” and you, they say, have an understanding of what. However, this only happens in the provinces; This doesn’t happen in capitals, does it? Here, if someone shows up at someone’s house when they’re three years old, why is that? It's all about honesty, isn't it?

Handsome and dense gentleman (to the side). He's as nasty as hell, and his tongue is like a snake's.

A nondescript, but poisonous gentleman (pushing the arm of a man completely unfamiliar to him, he tells him, nodding at the handsome gentleman). Four houses on one street; everyone is next to each other, they grew up at six years old! What effect does honesty have on the vegetative force, huh?

STRANGER (leaving hastily). Sorry, I didn't hear enough.

A nondescript, but poisonous man (pushing the arm of an unfamiliar neighbor). How has deafness spread in the city these days, huh? This is what an unhealthy and damp climate means!

Unfamiliar neighbor. Yes, that's the flu too. All my children got sick.

An unprepossessing, but poisonous person. Yes, both flu and deafness; mumps is also in the throat. (Disappears in the crowd.)

Group conversation on the side.

First. And they say that a similar incident happened to the author himself: he was in prison in some town for debt.

Gentleman from the other side of the group (picking up the speech). No, it wasn't in the prison, it was on the tower. Those who passed by saw this. They say it was something extraordinary. Imagine: a poet on the highest tower, around the mountain, the location is amazing, and he reads poetry from there. Isn't it true that there is some special trait of the writer here?

Mister of negative character. Not at all smart. I know, he served, he was almost kicked out of the service: he didn’t know how to write requests.

A simple liar. A lively, lively head! They didn’t give him a place for a long time, so what do you think? He directly wrote a letter to the minister. Why, that’s how I wrote it! —Quintilian manner8. Just the way he started: “Dear sir!” And then he went, and he went, and he went... he spilled about eight pages all over the place. The minister, as he read it: “Well,” he says, “thank you, thank you! I see you have many enemies. Be the head of the department!” And straight from the scribes he waved to the heads of the department.

A gentleman of a good-natured nature (addressing another person of a cold-blooded nature). The devil knows who to believe! And he was in prison, and he climbed the tower! And they kicked me out of the service, and they gave me a place!

A gentleman of a cold-blooded nature. But this is all said impromptu.

A good-natured gentleman. How to impromptu?

Mister cold-blooded. So. After all, they don’t even know for two minutes what they will hear from themselves. Without the owner's knowledge, their tongue suddenly blurts out the news, and the owner is happy - he returns home, as if he had eaten enough. And the next day he forgot about what he himself had invented. It seems to him that he heard from others - and went to pass it around the city to everyone.

Good-natured gentleman. This, however, is unconscionable: to lie and not feel for yourself.

Mister cold-blooded. Yes, there are some who are sensitive. There are those who feel that they are lying, but consider it necessary to talk: the field is red with rye, and speech is a lie.

Middle class lady. But what an evil scoffer this author must be! I admit, I would never want to catch his eye: that way he would suddenly notice something funny in me.

Mister with weight. I don't know what kind of person this is. This, this, this... Nothing is sacred to this person; today he will say: such and such an adviser is not good, and tomorrow he will say that there is no God. After all, there is only one step.

Second sir. Ridicule! But you can't joke with laughter. It means destroying all respect - that's what it means. But after all this, everyone will beat me up in the street and say: “But they’re laughing at you; but you have the same rank, so here’s a slap on the wrist!” After all, this is what it means.

Third gentleman. Still would! This is a serious thing! They say: “trinket, trifle, theatrical performance.” No, these are not simple trinkets; You need to pay strict attention to this. They even send you to Siberia for these things. Yes, if I had power, the author would not have said anything to me. I would put him in such a place that he would not even see the light of God.

A group of people appears, God knows what quality, however, noble in appearance and decently dressed.

First. It’s better to stay here until the crowd comes out. Well, what is this, really! Making noise, clapping, as if God knows what! A trifle, some empty theatrical play and raising such an alarm, shouting, calling the author - well, what is this!

Second. However, the play amused and entertained.

First. Well, yes, it amused me, as any trifle usually amuses me. But why all this shouting and fuss? They talk as if about some important thing, applaud... Well, what is this! Well, I understand, if some singer or dancer - well, there I understand: there you are amazed at the art, flexibility, agility, natural talent. Well, what's going on here? They shout: “writer! writer! writer!” What is a writer? That sometimes you come across a witty word and copy something from life... But what kind of work is there? What's wrong with that? After all, these are all fables - and nothing more.

Second. Yes, of course, the thing is not important.

First. Think about it: well, a dancer, for example: it’s still art, there’s no way you can do what he does. Well, if I wanted to, for example: yes, my legs simply won’t rise. Well, if I made an entrechat, I wouldn’t do it for anything. But you can write without learning. I don’t know who the author is, but I was told that he is a complete ignorant, knows nothing: it seems he was kicked out from somewhere.

Second. But, nevertheless, he still must know something: without this it is impossible to write.

First. For goodness sake, what can he know? You yourself know what a writer is: an empty person! This is known to the whole world - it is not suitable for any business. They already tried to use them, but gave up. Well, judge for yourself, what are they writing? After all, these are all nonsense, fables! If you want, I will write it right away, and you will write, and he will write, and everyone will write.

Second. Yes, of course, why not write. If you only have a drop of intelligence in your head, it’s possible.

First. And you don't need any intelligence. Why is the mind here? After all, these are all fables. Well, if there was, let’s say, some scientific science, some subject that you don’t yet know, but what is it? After all, every man knows this. You see this every day on the street. Just sit by the window and write down everything that happens—that’s the whole point!

Third. This is true. When you think of it, really, what nonsense they waste time on!

First. Exactly, a waste of time - nothing more. Fables, trifles! We just need to prohibit giving them pen and ink. However, the people are coming out, let's go! Make noise, shout, encourage! but the point is simply nonsense! Fables, trifles! fables! (They leave. The crowd thins out, some stragglers flee.)
Good-natured official. And it would be all right, well, to expose at least one honest person! All are rogues, yes, they are rogues!

One of the people. Listen, you, wait for me at the crossroads! I'll run in and grab some mittens.

One of the gentlemen (looking at his watch). However, it's almost time. I have never left the theater so late. (Leaves.)

Retired official. Only time was wasted! No, I will never go to the theater again. (He leaves. The hallway is empty.)

Author of the play (exiting). I heard more than I expected. What a motley bunch of talk! Happy is the comedian who was born among a nation where society has not yet merged into one motionless mass, where it has not been clothed with the same bark of the old prejudice, which confines everyone’s thoughts into the same form and standard, where every man has his own opinion, where every man has his own opinion. creator of his character. What a diversity in these opinions, and how this firm, clear Russian mind flashed everywhere! and in this noble endeavor of a statesman! and in this lofty selflessness of an official huddled in the wilderness! and in the tender beauty of a generous female soul! and in the aesthetic sense of connoisseurs! and in the simple, true instinct of the people. How even in these unkind condemnations there is a lot that a comedian needs to know! What a lively lesson! Yes, I'm satisfied. But why does my heart become sad? It’s strange: I’m sorry that no one noticed the honest face that was in my play. Yes, there was one honest, noble person who acted in her throughout her entire life. This honest, noble face was laughter. He was noble because he decided to speak out, despite the low importance given to him in the world. He was noble because he decided to speak, despite the fact that he gave the comedian an offensive nickname - the nickname of a cold egoist, and even made him doubt the presence of the tender movements of his soul. No one stood up for this laughter. I am a comedian, I served him honestly, and therefore I must become his intercessor. No, laughter is more significant and deeper than people think - not the kind of laughter that is generated by temporary irritability, a bilious, painful disposition of character; It is also not that light laughter that serves for idle entertainment and amusement of people; - but that laughter, which all flows out of the bright nature of a person, flows out of it because at the bottom" of it lies an ever-bubbling spring of it, which deepens the subject, makes to appear brightly that which would have slipped, without the penetrating power of which trifle and the emptiness of life would not frighten a person so much. The despicable and insignificant things that he indifferently passes by every day would not grow before him in such a terrible, almost caricatured force, and he would not cry out, shuddering: “Are there really such people,” whereas , according to his own consciousness, there are worse people. No, those who say that laughter outrages are unfair. Only what is dark is outraged, but laughter is bright. Much would outrage a person if presented in its nakedness; but, illuminated by the power of laughter, it already brings reconciliation to the soul. And the one who would take vengeance against an evil person almost makes peace with him, seeing the low movements of his soul ridiculed. Unfair are those who say that laughter has no effect on those against whom it is directed, and that the rogue will be the first to laugh at the rogue brought on stage: the rogue-descendant will laugh, but the rogue-contemporary is not able to laugh. He hears that everyone already has an irresistible image, that one low movement on his part is enough for this image to become his eternal nickname; and even those who are no longer afraid of anything in the world are afraid of ridicule. No, only one deeply kind soul can laugh with a kind, bright laugh. But they do not hear the mighty power of such laughter: “what is funny is low,” says the light; Only that which is pronounced in a stern, tense voice is only given the title of lofty. But, oh my! How many people pass by every day for whom there is nothing lofty in the world! Everything that was created by inspiration is trifles and fables for them; Shakespeare's creations are fables for them; holy movements of the soul are fables for them. No, it is not the writer’s offended petty pride that makes me say this, not because my immature, weak creations have now been called fables - no, I see my vices and see that I am worthy of reproach; but my soul could not stand it indifferently when the most perfect creations were honored with the names of trifles and fables, when all the luminaries and stars of the world were recognized as the creators of nothing but trifles and fables! My soul ached when I saw how many here, in the midst of life itself, were unresponsive, dead inhabitants, terrible with the motionless coldness of their souls and the barren desert of their hearts; my soul ached when on their insensitive faces not even the ghost of an expression flinched from what plunged a deeply loving soul into heavenly tears, and their tongue did not touch the utterance of its eternal word: “fables!” Fables!.. And centuries passed, cities and peoples were demolished and disappeared from the face of the earth, everything that was was carried away like smoke, and fables live and are repeated to this day, and wise kings, profound rulers, a beautiful old man and a young man full of noble aspirations listen to them . Fables!.. And there the balconies and railings of the theaters groan: everything shook from top to bottom, turned into one feeling, in an instant, into one person, all people met like brothers, in one spiritual movement, and a grateful hymn to that one thunders with friendly applause. who has been dead for five hundred years. Can his decaying bones hear this in the grave? Does his soul, which has endured the harsh grief of life, respond? Fables!.. And there, among the same rows of the shocked crowd, came, dejected by grief and the unbearable weight of life, ready to desperately raise his hands on himself - and suddenly refreshing tears flowed from his eyes, and he came out reconciled with life and again asks the sky for grief and suffering, just to live and burst into tears again from such tales. Fables!.. But the world would fall asleep without such fables, life would become shallow, souls would be covered with mold and mud. Fables!.. Oh, may the names of those who favorably listened to such fables remain eternally holy in posterity: the wonderful finger of providence was inseparable from the heads of their creators. In moments of even troubles and persecution, everything that was noblest in the states became, first of all, their intercessor: the crowned monarch overshadowed them with his royal shield from the heights of the inaccessible throne. Cheer up and hit the road! And may the soul not be embarrassed by condemnation, but may it gratefully accept the indications of shortcomings, without being darkened even if it were denied high movements and holy love for humanity! The world is like a whirlpool: opinions and rumors move in it forever, but time grinds everything: false truths fly off like husks, and motionless truths remain like hard grains. What was recognized as empty may later appear armed with strict meaning. In the depths of cold laughter, hot sparks of eternal, powerful love can be found. And why, perhaps, it will be recognized later by everyone that by virtue of the same laws, why a proud and strong person is insignificant and weak in misfortune, and the weak grows like a giant in the midst of troubles - by virtue of the same laws, He who often sheds heartfelt, deep tears seems to laugh more than anyone else in the world!..

1 It goes without saying that the author of the play is an ideal person: it depicts the position of a comedian in society - a comedian who has chosen the subject of ridicule of abuses among various classes and positions. (Note by Gogol.)
2 Vaudeville - small, for the most part a one-act theatrical play, cheerful in nature, with verses sung. In the first half of the 19th century, the performance certainly ended in vaudeville.
3 The French expression (literally - “as it should”) is decent, decent; a comme il faut man is a decent man, in the sense of belonging to the wealthy elite of society.
4 Kotzebue August (1761-1819) - German playwright, author of more than 200 plays, which had big success.
5 Aristophanes (444-380 BC) - the greatest dramatic writer of ancient Greece, bright representative political comedy; the work of Aristophanes reflected fierce class and political struggle between the Athenian aristocracy and democracy.
6 Society, my dear.
7 Frontispiece - a page of a book with a picture before the title page, or title page.
8 Quintilian is an ancient Roman writer, author of several works on the theory of eloquence.