Мертвые души
Chapter 3
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“Whatonearthisthematter?”retortedthemasterofthehouseholdtestily.“Praygoyourselfifyouwishto.”Thenhestoppedshort,forthesnoringofPlatonwasfillingthewholeroom,andalso—outrivallingit—thatofthedogYarb.ThiscausedKostanzhoglotorealisethatbedtimereallyhadarrived;wherefore,afterhehadshakenPlatonoutofhisslumbers,andbiddenChichikovgoodnight,alldispersedtotheirseveralchambers,andbecameplungedinsleep.
All,thatistosay,exceptChichikov,whosethoughtsremainedwakeful,andwhokeptwonderingandwonderinghowbesthecouldbecometheowner,notofafictitious,butofareal,estate.Theconversationwithhishosthadmadeeverythingclear,hadmadethepossibilityofhisacquiringrichesmanifest,hadmadethedifficultartofestatemanagementatonceeasyandunderstandable;untilitwouldseemasthoughparticularlywashisnatureadaptedformasteringtheartinquestion.Allthathewouldneedtodowouldbetomortgagethedeadsouls,andthentosetupagenuineestablishment.AlreadyhesawhimselfactingandadministeringasKostanzhoglohadadvisedhim—energetically,andthroughpersonaloversight,andundertakingnothingnewuntiltheoldhadbeenthoroughlylearned,andviewingeverythingwithhisowneyes,andmakinghimselffamiliarwitheachmemberofhispeasantry,andabjuringallsuperfluities,andgivinghimselfuptohardworkandhusbandry
