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 postoffice 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 bother me. I seem to be unpopular with them. But the Lord knows if I've taken from some I've done it without a trace of ill-feeling. I even suspect—[Takes him by the arm and walks aside with him.]—I even suspect that I may have been denounced. Or why would they send an Inspector to us? Look here, Ivan Kuzmich, don't you think you could—ahem!—just open a little every letter that pa**es through your office and read it—for the common benefit of us all, you know—to see if it contains any kind of information against me, or is only ordinary correspondence. If it is all right, you can seal it up again, or simply deliver the letter opened.
POSTMASTER
Oh, I know. You needn't teach me that. I do it not so much as a precaution as out of curiosity. I just itch to know what's doing in the world. And it's very interesting reading, I tell you. Some letters are fascinating—parts of them written grand—more edifying than the Moscow Gazette.
GOVERNOR
Tell me, then, have you read anything about any official from St. Petersburg?
POSTMASTER
No, nothing about a St. Petersburg official, but plenty about Kostroma and Saratov ones. A pity you don't read the letters. There are some very fine pa**ages in them. For instance, not long ago a lieutenant writes to a friend describing a ball very wittily.—Splendid! "Dear friend," he says, "I live in the regions of the Empyrean, lots of girls, bands playing, flags flying." He's put a lot of feeling into his description, a whole lot. I've kept the letter on purpose. Would you like to read it?
GOVERNOR
No, this is no time for such things. But please, Ivan Kuzmich, do me the favor, if ever you chance upon a complaint or denunciation, don't hesitate a moment, hold it back.
POSTMASTER
I will, with the greatest pleasure.
AMMOS
You had better be careful. You may get yourself into trouble.
POSTMASTER
Goodness me!
GOVERNOR
Never mind, never mind. Of course, it would be different if you published it broadcast. But it's a private affair, just between us.
AMMOS
Yes, it's a bad business—I really came here to make you a present of a puppy, sister to the dog you know about. I suppose you have heard that Cheptovich and Varkhovinsky have started a suit. So now I live in clover. I hunt hares first on the one's estate, then on the other's.
GOVERNOR
I don't care about your hares now, my good friend. That cursed incognito is on my brain. Any moment the door may open and in walk—