Khelstakov: Go to the devil! Call the landlord. (Osip goes.) How fearfully hungry I am. And I was cheated at cards and cleaned right out at Penza by that infantry captain. What a miserable little town this is. They give no credit at the provision shops.
[Enter Waiter.
Waiter: The landlord asks what you want.
Khelstakov: Please bring my dinner at once. I must be busy directly I have dined.
The waiter replies that the landlord refuses to supply anything more, and seems likely to complain to the governor. But presently dinner is brought in. To Khlestakov's great consternation Osip announces that the governor has come and is asking for him.
Khelstakov: What? The landlord has reported me! I'll put on an aristocratic air, and ask him how he dares——
Governor, entering in trepidation and saluting humbly, astonishes him by profuse offers of hospitality and entertainment, though when at first mention is made of taking him to other quarters, the guest in horror ejaculates that he supposes the gaol is meant, and he asks what right the governor has to hint at such a thing.
Khelstakov (indignantly): How dare you? I—I—I am a government official at St. Petersburg. I—I—I——
Governor (aside): Good heavens, what a rage he is in! He knows everything. Those confounded merchants have told him all.
Banging the table, Khelstakov declares he will not go to the gaol, but will complain to the Minister of the Interior; and the governor, trembling and terrified, pleads that he has a wife and little children, and begs that he may not be ruined. The ridiculous misunderstanding on both sides grows more confused every minute. The governor pours forth the most abject apologies; declares that if the people accuse him of oppression and extortion, and even of flogging women, they are a slandering mob.