Theatrical tour after the presentation of a new comedy. "theatrical tour after the presentation of a new comedy"

After presenting a new comedy

Selected works

Canopy of the theatre. On one side are visible staircases leading to lodges and galleries; in the middle is the entrance to the armchairs and the amphitheater, on the other side is the exit. A distant rumble of applause is heard.

Two comme il faut3, of dense quality, come down the stairs.

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

Second comme il faut. No, but very stupid.

The first comme il faut. Yes, not bad; but still something is missing. Yes, I recommend: new restaurant: yesterday we were served fresh green peas (kisses the ends of the fingers) - lovely! (They both leave.)

An officer runs, another holds his hand.

Another officer. Let's stay.

First officer. No, brother, you can’t lure you to vaudeville with a roll. We know these plays that are given for a snack: lackeys instead of actors, and women are a freak on a freak. (Exits.)

Secular man, smartly dressed (coming down the stairs). The rogue tailor made me pantaloons, all the time I was afraid to sit awkwardly. For this, I intend to delay him again, and for two years I will not pay my debts. (Exits.)

Also a man of the world, thicker (he speaks with liveliness to another). Never, never, believe me, he will not sit down to play with you. Less than one and a half hundred rubles, Robert, he does not play. I know this well, because my brother-in-law, Pafnutiev, plays with him every day.

Middle-aged official (coming out with outstretched arms). It's just the devil knows what it is! .. Sort of! .. kind of! .. It doesn't look like anything. (Gone.)

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

Another. Please, what a translation! The action takes place in Russia, our customs and ranks even.

Gentleman careless about literature. I remember, however, there was something in French, not exactly like that. (Both leave.)

One of two spectators (also going out). Now nothing can be known. Wait what the magazines say and then you'll know.

Two bekeshi (one another). Well, how are you? I would like to know your opinion about comedy.

Another bekesha (making significant movements with her lips). Yes, of course, it cannot be said that there was not something ... in its own way ... Well, of course, who is against this, that it should not happen again and ... where, so to speak ... but anyway. .. (Squeezing 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 the magazines say: we need to put the critics on trial ... Look, look! (Pushes him by the arm.)

Second. What?

FIRST (pointing to one of the two going up the stairs). Writer!

Second (hastily). Which?

First. This. Chsh! let's hear what they have to say.

Second. Who else is with him?

First. I don't know, I don't know what kind of person. (Both officers step aside and give them a seat.)

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

Writer. Excuse me, what's so witty? What a low people brought out, what a tone? The jokes are the flattest; just gross!

It is unknown what kind of person. Ah, that's another matter. I say: in regard to literary merit, I cannot judge; I only noticed that the play was funny, that it gave pleasure.

Writer. Yes, it's not funny. Excuse me, what's so funny and what's the fun? The plot is incredible. All inconsistencies; no strings, no action, no consideration whatsoever.

It is unknown what kind of person. Well, I don't say anything against it. IN literary terms so, in a literary sense, it is not funny; but in relation, so to speak, from the side it has ...

Writer. What is there? Damn, this doesn't even exist! Well, what is the spoken language? Who speaks like this 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 have noticed this very subtly. Exactly, I thought about it myself: there is no nobility in the conversation. All 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 don't praise. I myself now see that the play is nonsense. But all of a sudden 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 the business: a disgusting play, a dirty, dirty play! There is not a single true face, all are caricatures! This is not in nature, believe me, no, I know it better: I myself am a writer. They say: liveliness, observation ... but it's all nonsense, it's all friends, friends praise, all friends! I have already heard that it is almost put into the Fonvizins, and the play is simply unworthy even to be called a comedy. Farce, farce, and the most unfortunate farce. Compared to her, Kotzebue's last empty comedy is Mont Blanc in front of Pulkovo Hill. I will prove it to them all, I will prove it mathematically, like two times two. It's just that his friends and buddies praised him beyond measure, and so now he, tea, thinks of himself that he is a little bit like Shakespeare. Our friends will always praise us. Here, for example, is Pushkin. Why is all of Russia now talking about him? All friends: shouted, shouted, and then after them, the whole of Russia began to shout. (Exits with audience.)

Both officers (lean forward and take their places).

First. This is true, this is perfectly true: exactly, a farce; I have said this before, a stupid farce, supported by friends. I admit, it was even disgusting to look at many things.

Second. Why, did you say you've never laughed like that before?

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

Two other officers are behind.

One (other). Who is discussing this? Looks like one of yours?

Another, looking sideways into the face of the reasoner, waved his hand.

First. What, stupid?

Second. No, not that. He has a mind, but now after the release of the magazine, and the book came out late - and 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 for the most part come from the lips of those who themselves are of a very dubious tone, talk about drawing rooms and are allowed only in the anterooms. But it's not about them. I'm talking about the fact that in the play, for sure, there is no plot.

Second. Yes, if you take the string in the sense that it is usually taken, that is, in the sense love affair, so it is definitely not. But it seems that it is time to stop relying so far on this eternal plot. It is worth taking a closer look around. Everything has changed long ago in the light. Now, the desire to get a favorable place, to shine and outshine, by all means, the other, to avenge neglect, for ridicule, ties up the drama more strongly. Do not electricity now have rank, money capital, an advantageous marriage, than love?

First. All this is good; but in this respect, all the same, I do not see the plot in the play.

Second. I will not now state whether there is a plot in the play or not. I will only say that in general they are looking for a private plot and do not want to see a common one. People are innocently accustomed to these incessant lovers, without whose marriage the play cannot end. Of course, this is the plot, but what is the plot? - a precise knot at the corner of the scarf. No, comedy must knit itself, with all its mass, into one big common knot. The tie should embrace all the faces, not just one or two, touch what excites, more or less, all the actors. Here every hero; the course and course of the play produces a shock to the whole machine: not a single wheel should remain as rusty and out of use.

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

Second. Not to rule at all, but to dominate. And in the car, some wheels move more noticeably and 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. And everything can tie up: the very horror, the fear of expectation, the storm of the law going far away ...

First. But it goes beyond giving comedy some more universal meaning.

Second. But isn't this its direct and real meaning? From the very beginning, comedy was social, folk creation. At least that is how her father himself, Aristophanes, showed her. After that, she entered the narrow gorge of a private tie, introduced a love move, the same indispensable tie. But how weak is this connection among the most best comedians! how insignificant are these theatrical lovers with their cardboard love!

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

Second. I'm not saying she can't get in. But only love, and all other feelings, more sublime, will only make a high impression when they are developed in all depth. Having taken care of them, one must inevitably sacrifice everything else. Everything that constitutes precisely the side of comedy will then already turn pale, and the significance of social comedy will certainly disappear.

Third. So, the subject of comedy must necessarily be low? Comedy will come out already low kind.

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 lofty thought? Doesn't everything, down to the slightest bend of the soul of a vile and dishonest person, already draws 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 cures 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 a lofty thought to serve the beautiful.

Fourth (approaching). What can serve the beautiful and what do you talk about?

First. We got into an argument about comedy. We're all talking about comedy in general, and no one has said anything about new comedy yet. What do you say?

Fourth. And here's what I'll say: talent is visible, observation of life, a lot of funny, true, taken from nature; but in general there is something missing in the whole play. Somehow you don't see the connection or the denouement. It is strange that our comedians cannot do without the government. Without him, you will not unleash a single comedy.

Third. This is true. And yet, 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 connected with the government. Therefore, it is not surprising that this is reflected in the creations of our writers.

Fourth. So. Well, let this connection be heard; but the funny thing is that the play can never end without a government. It will certainly appear, like the inevitable fate in the tragedies of the ancients.

Second. Well, you see: therefore, this is already something involuntary with our comedians. Therefore, this already constitutes some kind of distinctive character of our comedy. There is some kind of secret faith in the government in our chest. Well? there is nothing wrong 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 fate that overtook crimes.

Fifth. Hello gentlemen! I only hear the word "government". Comedy aroused shouts and talk...

Second. Let's talk better about these rumors and shouts at my place than here, in the theatrical vestibule. (They leave.)

Several respectable and decent dressed people appear one after the other.

N 1. So; so, I see: this is true, we have it and it happens in other places and worse; but for what purpose, why bring it out? - that's the question! Why these performances? What is the use of them? - that's what let me! What 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 representations. (Exits.)

N 2. No, this "is not a mockery of vices; this is a disgusting mockery of Russia - that's what. It means to expose the government itself in a bad way, because to expose bad officials and abuses that occur in different classes means to expose the government itself. Simply even such representations should not be allowed.(Exit.)

Enter Mr. A. and Mr. B., people of not unimportant rank.

Mr. A. I'm talking about this; on the contrary, we need to show abuses; we need to see our misdeeds; and I do not in the least share the opinions of many over-excited patriots; but only it seems to me that there is not too much something sad here ...

Mr. B. I would very much like you to hear the remark of a very modestly dressed man who was sitting next to me in armchairs ... Ah, there he is!

Mr. A. Who?

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

A very modestly dressed man. And I, I confess, am very glad to continue it. Only now I have 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 recall and embrace the whole play, and I confess that the expression of the comedy now seemed to me even more remarkable. In it, it seems to me, hypocrisy is most strongly and deeply affected by laughter, a decent mask, under which baseness and meanness appear, a rogue making a face of a well-meaning person. I confess that I felt joy seeing how ridiculous the well-intentioned words in the mouth of a rogue, and how hilariously ridiculous everything, from armchairs to the district, became the mask he put on. And after that, there are people who say that it is not necessary to bring this on stage! I heard one remark made, it seemed to me, by the way, by a rather decent person: "And what will the people say when they see that we have such abuses?"

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

A very modestly dressed man. What will the people say? (He takes a step back, two in Armenians pass.)

Blue Armenian to gray. Probably, the governors were nimble, but everyone turned pale when the royal reprisal came! (Both exit.)

A very modestly dressed man. That's what the people will say, you hear?

Mr. A. What?

A very modestly dressed man. He will say: "Probably, the governors were nimble, but everyone turned pale when the royal reprisal came!" Do you hear how true to natural intuition and feeling a person is? How true is the simplest eye, if it is not clouded by theories and thoughts plucked from books, but draws them from the very nature of man! Isn't it obviously clear that after such a presentation the people will gain 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 come 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 unsleeping eye watches over all equally, that sooner or later it will overtake those who have betrayed the law, honor and holy duty of a person, that those with an unclean conscience will turn pale before it. Yes, he must see these ideas; believe that even if he happens to experience pressure and injustice on himself, he will come out comforted after such a performance with a firm faith in the unsleeping higher law. I also like the remark: "The people will get a bad opinion about 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, then he will not see it in any way, but when he goes to the theater, then he will see it. Indeed, they consider our people to be more stupid than a log, stupid to such an extent that it is as if they are not able to distinguish which pie is with meat, and which with porridge. No, now, it seems to me, it’s even good that it’s not put on stage fair man. A proud man: put out one good side to him with many bad sides, he will already proudly leave the theater. No, it’s good that only exceptions and vices are exposed, which now prick their eyes to the point that they don’t want to be their compatriots, they are ashamed to even admit that this can be.

Mr. A. But do we really have exactly such people?

A very modestly dressed man. Let me tell you this: I don't know why I get sad every time I hear a question like this. I can speak frankly with you: in the features of your faces I see something that disposes me to frankness. A person first of all makes a request: "Do such people really exist?" But when has a man been seen to ask such a question: "Am I myself completely free from such vices?" Never ever! Yes, that's what - I'll talk to you frankly - I have kind heart, there is 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 vicious inclinations, which you involuntarily fall into while living with people! And how can I say now that I don’t have those same inclinations at this very moment that everyone just laughed at ten minutes ago and at which I myself laughed?

Mr. A. (after some silence). I confess that you will ponder over your words. And when I remember, I will imagine how proud our European upbringing has made us, in general, how it has hidden us from ourselves, how haughtily and with what contempt we look at those who have not received an external polish like us, how each of us puts himself a little not saints, but always speaks of bad things in the third person - then, I confess, my soul involuntarily becomes sad ... But forgive my indiscretion - you, however, are to blame for it yourself - let me know: with whom do I have the pleasure of talking?

A very modestly dressed man. And I am nothing more, nothing less than one of those officials whose positions were taken by the faces of the comedy, and the third day I just arrived from my town.

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

A very modestly dressed man. It's a shame? And here's what I'll tell you about this: I confess, I often had to lose my patience. In our town, not all officials are from an honest dozen; often you have to climb a wall to do some good deed. Several times already I wanted to leave the service; but now, just after this performance, I feel fresh and at the same time new strength continue your career. I am already comforted by the thought that meanness among us does not remain hidden or condoned, that there, in the sight of all noble people, it is stricken with ridicule, that there is a pen that will not hinder the detection of our low movements, although this does not flatter our national pride, and that there is a noble government that will allow it to be shown to everyone who should, in the eyes; and this alone gives me the zeal to continue my useful service.

Mr. A. Let me make you one suggestion. I hold a significant public position. I need truly noble and honest helpers. I offer you a place where you will have a vast field of action, where you will receive incomparably more benefits and will be in sight.

A very modestly dressed man. Allow me to thank you from the bottom of my heart and from the bottom of my heart for such an offer and at the same time let me 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 convinced that some fine fellow will not sit down after me and begin to do pressing. 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 on an equal basis with others, but I did not challenge him. What is his reward? You liked the play - praise it, and he - he only fulfilled his duty. We really have come to such a point that not only on the occasion of some feat, but simply, unless someone else spoils anyone, in life and in the service, then he already considers himself God knows how a virtuous person, gets angry seriously if they do not notice and do not reward him. “Have mercy,” he says, “I have lived an honest life for a whole century, I have done almost no meanness at all, how can they not give me either a rank or an order?” No, according to me, who is not able to be noble without encouragement - I do not believe his nobility; his mouse nobility is not worth a penny.

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

A very modestly dressed man. Here is my address; but rest assured that I will not allow you to use it and will come to you tomorrow morning. Excuse me, I'm not brought up in big light and I don’t know how to speak ... But to meet such generous attention in statesman, such a desire for good ... God forbid that every sovereign was surrounded by such people! (Quickly leaves.)

Mr. A. (turning over the card in his hands). I look at this card and at this surname unknown to me, and somehow my soul becomes full. This sad impression at the beginning dissipated by itself. God bless you, our little-known Russia! In the wilderness, in your forgotten corner, such a 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 lit up after meeting this official, just as his own was lit up after the performance of a comedy. Farewell! Thank you for bringing me this meeting. (Exits.)

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

Mr. P. (approaching from the other side). Have mercy, brother, well, what is it, how is it really? ..

Mr. B. What?

Mr. P. Well, but how to deduce this?

Mr. B. Why not?

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

Mr. B. Do vices boast? After all, they are ridiculed.

Mr. P. Well, that's all, brother, no matter how you say it: 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 badly perform their positions.

Mr. V. But let me say, however, that all this is in some way already an insult, which more or less extends to everyone.

Mr. P. Exactly. That's what I wanted to point out to him. This is precisely the insult that is spreading. Now, for example, they will withdraw some titular councilor, and then ... er ... perhaps they will deduce ... and a real state councilor ...

Mr. B. Well, so what? The person must only be inviolable; and if I invented my own face, and gave him some of the vices that happen between us, and gave him the rank that I thought of, even if it were a real state councilor, and would say that this real state councilor is not like should be: what's wrong with that? Doesn't a goose also come across among real state councilors?

Mr. P. Well, brother, this is too much. How can a goose be a real state councilor? Well, even titular... No, you're too much.

Mr. V. How to expose the bad, why not expose the good, worthy of imitation?

Mr. B. Why? strange question: "why?" You can do a lot of such "why". Why did one father, wanting to extricate his son from a disorderly life, did not waste words and instructions, but brought him to the infirmary, where they appeared before him in all their horror scary footprints disorderly life? Why did he do it?

Mr. V. But let me tell you: these are already in some way our social wounds that need to be hidden, not shown.

Mr. P. It's true. I completely agree with this. We need to hide the bad, not show.

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 true love to the fatherland. In your opinion, it would only be necessary to close, heal somehow from the outside these, as you call, social wounds, so long as they were not visible for the time being, and let the disease rage inside - there is no need for that. There is no need that it should explode and show up with such symptoms when it is already too late for any cure. Until then, there is no need. 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 unable to rise above them, unable to soar with our souls above the contemptible in life. You do not want to know this! Let a man remain deaf, let him go through his life sleepily, let him not tremble, let him not weep in the depths of his heart, let him bring his soul to such a state of sleep that nothing can shock it! No... forgive me! Cold selfishness moves the mouth that utters such speeches, and not the saint, pure love to humanity. (Exits.)

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

Mr. V. (silent).

Mr. P. (continuing). He can say whatever he likes to himself, but after all, our wounds, so to speak.

Mr. V. (aside). Well, these wounds caught on his tongue! He will talk about them to both the oncoming and the transverse!

Mr. P. So, perhaps, I can say a bunch of things, but what of it? .. And here is Prince N. Listen, prince, don’t go!

Prince N. And what?

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

Prince N. Yes, it's funny.

Mr. P. But, nevertheless, tell me: how to present it? what does it look like...

Prince N. Why not represent?

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

Prince N. What wounds?

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

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

Mr. P. (continuing). And then again, what the hell was he talking about here? He says: a real state councilor can be a goose. Well, let it be titular, it can be allowed ...

Mr. V. However, let's go, fully interpret; I think everyone passing by has already learned that you are a real state councilor. (Aside.) There are people who have the art of cursing everything. Your thought, having repeated, they know how to make it so vulgar that you yourself blush. If you say something stupid, it might have slipped through unnoticed - no, an admirer and friend will be found who will certainly use it and make it even more stupid than it is. It's even annoyingly true: it's as if he's planted me in the dirt. (They leave.)

The military and civilian go out together.

State. After all, here you are, gentlemen of the military! You say: "this should be brought to the stage"; you are ready to laugh to your heart's content at some civilian official; but 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 tricks - but because of this alone you are ready to climb with a complaint to the Council of State.

Military. Well, listen, who do you think I am? Of course, there are such Donquishots among us, but also believe that there are many truly sensible people who will always be glad if a discrediting rank is brought out to public ridicule. And what's wrong with that? Give it, give it to us! We are ready to watch every day.

Statsky (aside). This is how a person always shouts: "Serve! Serve!" and if you give it, you will get angry. (They leave.)

Two backes.

The first bekesha. The French, too, for example; but they are all very nice. Well, you remember, in yesterday's vaudeville: he undresses, gets into bed, grabs a 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 does not offend ... I have a wife and children every day in the theater. And here - well, what is it, right? - some bastard, a peasant whom I would not let in the hall, will fall apart with boots, yawn or pick his teeth - well, what is it, right? what does it look like?

Another bekesha. The French are different. There societe, mon cher6, It's impossible for us. After all, our writers are completely without any education: all this was mostly brought up in the seminary. He is inclined towards wine, he is a slut. Some kind of writer also went to visit my footman: how could he have an idea about good society? (They leave.)

Secular lady (accompanied by two men: one in a tailcoat, the other in a uniform). But what kind of people, what kind of faces are brought out! at least one attracted ... Well, why don't they write in our country the way the French write, for example, like Dumas and others? I do not demand models of virtue; bring me a woman who would be mistaken, who would even cheat on her husband, indulge in, let's say, the most vicious and forbidden love; but imagine it captivatingly, so that I would be impelled to her by participation, that I would love her ... But here all the faces are one more disgusting than the other.

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

Secular lady. Tell me: why is it still so trivial in Russia?

A man in a tailcoat. My soul, afterward 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 is the object of ridicule—abuses and vices? What a laugh!

Second. So why laugh? Is it over the virtues, over the virtues of man?

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

Second. What are the other items?

First. Well, are there any funny secular cases? Well, suppose, for example, I went for a walk to Aptekarsky Island, and the coachman suddenly took me there to Vyborgskaya or to the Smolny Monastery. Are there any funny linkages?

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

Third. Well, no, listen: it's not that. 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). So it is always in the world: laugh at the truly noble, at what constitutes the high shrine of the soul, no one will become an intercessor; laugh at the vicious, vile and low - everyone will shout: "he laughs at the shrine."

First. Well, you see, I see you are convinced now: don't say a word. Believe me, it is impossible not to be convinced: this is the truth. I myself am an impartial person, and I don’t say that ... but, simply, this is not an author's work, this is not a subject for comedy. (They leave.)

Second (to himself). I confess that I would never want to be in the place of the author. Please please! Choose unimportant secular cases, everyone will say: "He writes nonsense, there is no deep moral purpose"; choose a subject that has some serious moral purpose - they will say: "None of his business, write nonsense!" (Exits.)

A young lady of high society, accompanied by her husband.

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

Mister N. (going up to the lady). What do I see! You have come to watch a Russian play!

Young lady. What's wrong with that? Am I not a bit patriotic anymore?

Mr. N. Well, if so, then you have not satiated your patriotism very much. Are you really scolding the play?

Young lady. Not at all. I find that many things are very true: I laughed heartily.

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

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

Mr. N. A very clever lady told me just now 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 how your smart lady felt; but my nerves are not so sensitive, and I am always glad to laugh at what is internally funny. I know that there are some of us who are ready to laugh at the crooked nose of a person and do not have the heart to laugh at the crooked soul of a person.

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

Mr. N. Ah, here comes your friend. I would like to know her opinion on comedy. (Both ladies shake hands with each other.)

First lady. I saw you laughing from afar.

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

Mr. N. Did you feel any sad feeling?

Second lady. I confess, I was, for sure, sad. I know all this is very true; I myself 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 says it? I already tell you that I laughed with all my heart, and even more than all the others; I think they even took me for a madman ... But I was sad because I would like to rest on at least one kind face. Ego excess and a lot of low...

Mr. N. Speak, speak!

Husband of the first lady. And that's exactly what you don't recommend. The ladies certainly want a knight, so that he immediately repeats to them every word about nobility, even the most vulgar style.

Second lady. Not at all. How little you know us! Here you own this! You just love only one word and talk about nobility. I heard the judgment of one of you: one fat man shouted in such a way that, I think, he forced everyone to turn to himself - that this is slander, that such meanness and meanness are never done in our country. And who spoke? - The lowest and meanest person who is ready to sell his soul, conscience and whatever you want. I don't want to just call him by his first name.

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

Second lady. Why do you need to know? Yes, he is not alone; I heard incessantly shouting around us: "This is a disgusting mockery of Russia, a mockery of the government! But how can this be allowed? What will the people say?" Why were they screaming? Is it because they really thought and felt it? - Sorry. Because, to make a noise, to ban the play, because, perhaps, they found something similar to themselves in it. Here are your real, not theatrical knights!

Husband of the first lady. ABOUT! Yes, you are already beginning to be born a little anger!

Second lady. Anger, just anger. Yes, I'm angry, very angry. And it is impossible not to be evil, seeing how meanness appears under all sorts of guises.

Husband of the first lady. Well, yes: you would like a knight to jump out now, jump over some abyss, break his neck ...

Second lady. Sorry.

Husband of the first lady. Naturally: what does a woman need? She definitely needs a romance in her life.

Second lady. No no no! Two hundred times ready to say: 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 those mean and vile things that you do. A woman cannot be hypocritical where you are hypocritical, she cannot look through her fingers at those base things that you look at. She has enough nobility to say all this without looking around to see if anyone likes it or not - because you need to talk. What is vile is vile, no matter how you hide it and no matter how we look. It's vile, vile!

Husband of the first lady. Yes, I see you are angry in every way.

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

Husband of the first lady. Well, don't be angry, give me your pen! I was joking.

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

Mr. N. But how to do it? Well, if he brings out an honest man, and this honest man will look like a theater knight?

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

Mr. N. Why, I think it's not so easy to do.

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

Mr. N. Why is that so?

Second lady. Well, yes, one who constantly and eternally laughs cannot have too high feelings: he cannot be familiar with what only a tender heart feels.

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

Second lady. Well, you see, you are now reinterpreting the other way. I do not say a word about the fact that the comedian does not have nobility and a strict concept of honor in the whole sense of the word. I only say that he could not ... shed a heart tear, love something strongly, with all the depths of his soul.

Husband of the second lady. But how can you say it in the affirmative?

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

Mr. N. So, you strongly prefer only that kind of compositions, where only lofty human movements are at work?

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

Husband of the first lady (addressing Mr. N). Well, don't you see - the same thing comes out again? This is feminine taste. For them, the most vulgar tragedy is higher than the most best comedy just because she's a tragedy...

Second lady. Shut up, I'll be angry again. (Turning to Mr. N.) Well, tell me, did I not tell the truth: after all, a comedian must certainly have a cold soul?

Husband of the second lady. Or hot, because the irritability of the character also excites ridicule and satire.

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

Mr. N. It's true.

Mr. N. How can I tell you? I do not know him so briefly that I can judge his soul. But, considering everything I've heard about him, he certainly must be either an egoist or a very irritable person.

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

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

Husband of the first lady. And here comes our footman, so the carriage is ready. Farewell. (Shaking the second lady's hand.) You're joining us, aren't you? Do we drink tea?

First lady (leaving). Please!

Second lady. Certainly.

Husband of the second lady. It seems that our carriage is also ready. (They go after them.)

Two spectators come out.

First. Explain to me this: why, examining separately every action, face and character, you see: all this is true, alive, taken from nature, but together it already seems to be something huge, exaggerated, caricatured, so that, leaving the theater, you involuntarily ask Q: Do such people exist? And meanwhile after all they not that villains.

Second. No, they are not villains at all. They are exactly what the proverb says: "not a bad soul, but just a rogue."

First. And then one more thing: this huge accumulation, this excess - isn't there already a lack of comedy? Tell me, where is there such a society, which would consist of all 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 mirror of our social life, then it must reflect it in all fidelity.

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

First. Yes. Well, this, however, is not suddenly 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 been shattered, the more everyone's attention stops on the images. Only putting them together will you get the result and the meaning of creation. But disassemble and fold such letters quickly, read tops and suddenly - not everyone can; but 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 provincial town in Russia will get angry and will assert that this is an evil satire, a vulgar, low invention aimed specifically at him. (They leave.)

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

Another official. Now, there is nothing left. No need for laws, no need to serve. The uniform that I have on—it means that we must throw it away: it is now a rag.

Two young people are running.

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

Another. Well, what does this one think?

First. Here is the one that puts on an overcoat in the sleeves?

Another. Yes.

First. This is what he thinks: "For such a comedy you should be sent to Nerchinsk! .." However, it seems that the upper population has moved; vaudeville, apparently, is over. Now the riffraff are pouring in. Let's go! (Both leave.)

(The noise increases; running around is heard on all the stairs. Armenians, sheepskin coats, bonnets, German long-brimmed coats of merchants run. Triangular hats and sultans, overcoats of all kinds: frieze, military, second-hand and dandy - with beavers. The crowd pushes the gentleman putting on his overcoat in his sleeve ; the gentleman steps aside and continues to put it on aside. Gentlemen and officials of all sorts and sorts appear in the crowd. Footmen in liveries clear the way for the ladies. A woman's cry is heard: "Fathers, pushed from all sides!")

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

The gentleman in the overcoat. Ah, hello! Are you here? Did you come to watch?

Young official. Yes, your Excellency, a funny point.

The gentleman in the overcoat. Nonsense! nothing funny!

Young official. It is true, Your Excellency: nothing at all.

The gentleman in the overcoat. For such things, you need to flog, not praise.

Young official. It's true, Your Excellency!

The gentleman in the overcoat. Here, young people are allowed into the theater. A lot of useful things will come out! Here you are: now, tea, will you come to the office, will you be directly rude?

Young official. How can you, Your Excellency! .. Allow me to clear the way forward for you! (To the people, pushing one and the other.) Hey, you, step aside, the general is coming! (Approaching, with unusual courtesy, two smartly dressed.) Gentlemen, do me a favor, let the general pass!

Well dressed, stepping aside and making way.

First. Do you know which general? Must be some famous one?

Second. I don't know, I never saw him.

An official of a talkative nature (picking up from behind). Simply, a state adviser, he is only listed in the fourth grade in his place. What is happiness? In the fifteen years of service of Vladimir, Anna, Stanislav, 3,000 rubles of salary, two thousand canteens, yes from the council, yes from the commission, and even from the department.

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

Talkative official. Must be mother's sons. Tea, they serve in a foreign college. I don't like comedies; I prefer tragedy. (Exits.)

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

Merchant (with a lady by the arm). At yourselves, father, lady.

The merchant's voice. It, so please see, it is here more, so to speak, from the maral side. Of course, there are, so to speak, all sorts, sir. Why, even then, if you please, judge that an honest person, by chance, will have to ... And as for marality, this is the same for the nobles.

Two officers who recognize each other are talking through the crowd.

First. Michelle, are you there?

Second. There.

First. Well, I'm there too.

An official of important appearance. I would ban everything. Nothing needs to be printed. Use enlightenment, read, not write. Books are already written enough, no more needed.

A handsome and solid gentleman (he speaks with fervor to a nondescript and short one). Morality, morality suffers, that's the main thing!

The gentleman is short and nondescript, but of a poisonous quality. After all, morality is a relative thing.

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

A nondescript, but poisonous gentleman. That which everyone measures morality relative to himself. One calls it morality to take off his hat in the street; another calls it morality to look through one's fingers at how one steals; the third calls morality the services rendered to his mistress. After all, as usual, as each of our brethren says to his subordinates? - He says from above: "Dear sir, try to fulfill your duty towards God, the sovereign, the fatherland," and you, they say, understand yourself about what. However, this is so only in the provinces; It doesn't happen in the capitals, does it? Here, if someone has two houses in three years, why is that? It's all about honesty, right?

A handsome and dense gentleman (aside). Filthy as hell, and tongue like a snake.

Nondescript, but poisonous gentleman (pushing the arm of a completely unfamiliar person, tells him, nodding at the handsome gentleman). Four houses in one street; everyone is next to each other, they grew up at the age of six! What effect does honesty have on vegetative power, huh?

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

A nondescript, but poisonous person (pushing an unfamiliar neighbor by the arm). How is deafness spreading in the city these days, huh? That's what an unhealthy and damp climate means!

Unknown neighbor. Yes, so is the flu. All of my children have been ill.

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

Conversation in a group on the side.

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

The gentleman on the other side of the group (picking up the speech). No, it's not in the prison, it was on the tower. It was seen by those who passed by. They say it was something extraordinary. Imagine: the poet is 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 feature writer?

Lord of the negative. Not smart at all. I know, he served, he was almost expelled from the service: he did not know how to write requests.

Simple liar. A brisk, brisk head! He was not given a place for a long time, so what do you think? He directly wrote a letter to the minister. Yes, as he wrote! - Quintillian style. One thing is how he began: "dear sir!" And then he went, and went, and went ... he rolled around for eight pages. The minister, as he read: "Well," he says, "thank you, thank you! I see you have many enemies. Be the head of the department!" And right from the scribes he waved to the heads of the department.

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

Cold-blooded gentleman. Why, it's all impromptu.

Good-natured gentleman. How is it impromptu?

Cold-blooded Mr. So. After all, they themselves do not know for two minutes what they will hear from themselves. Without the knowledge of the owner, their tongue suddenly blurts out the news, and the owner is glad - he returns home, as if he had eaten. And the next day he had already forgotten 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 shameless: to lie and not feel for yourself.

Cold-blooded Mr. Yes, there are sensitive ones. There are those who feel that they are lying, but they already consider it necessary for conversation: the field is red with rye, and speech is a lie.

Middle class lady. But what an evil mocker this author must be! I confess, I would never want to catch his eye: that way he suddenly notices the funny in me.

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

Second Mr. Laugh! Yes, you can't joke with laughter. It means destroying all respect - that's what it means. But after all, after all this, everyone will beat me up in the street, saying: “But they are laughing at you; and you have the same rank, so here’s a crack for you!” After all, this is what it means.

Third Mr. Still would! This is a serious thing! They say: "trinket, trifles, theatrical performance". No, these are not simple knick-knacks; strict attention must be paid to this. For such things they are sent to Siberia. Yes, if I had power, the author would not have uttered a word from me. I would put him in such a place that he would did not see the light of God.

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

First. Better stand here while the crowd comes out. Well, what is it, right! Make noise, applause, as if God knows what! A trifle, some kind of empty theatrical play and raise such an alarm, shout, call the author - well, what is it!

Second. However, the play amused and entertained.

First. Well, yes, I am amused, as any trifle amuses me as usual. But why is there such cries and talk from this? They talk as if about some important thing, they applaud ... Well, what is it! Well, I understand, if any singer or dancer - well, there I understand: there you are surprised at art, flexibility, agility, natural talent. Well, what about here? They shout: "writer! writer! writer!" What is a writer? That sometimes a witty word will come across, and write off something from nature ... But what kind of work is here? What's wrong with that? After all, these are all fables - and nothing more.

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

First. Consider: well, a dancer, for example: there is still art, you can’t do it in any way, what he does. Well, if I want, for example: yes, my legs simply won’t rise. Well, if I do an antrasha, I won’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 perfect ignoramus, knows nothing: he seems to have been expelled from somewhere.

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

First. Yes, pardon, what can he know? Do you know what a writer is? empty man! This is known to the whole world - it is not good for any business. Already tried to use them, but abandoned. Well, judge for yourself, well, what are they writing? After all, this is all nonsense, fables! If you want, I will write it this very hour, and you will write, and he will write, and everyone will write.

Second. Yes, of course, why not write. If only a drop of the mind in the head, it's possible.

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

Third. This is true. How do you think, right, what nonsense they use time!

First. Exactly, a waste of time - nothing more. Fables, trifles! It would just be necessary to forbid giving them pen and ink in their hands. However, the people are coming out, let's go! Raise a fuss, shout, encourage! but it's just nonsense! Fables, trifles! fables! (They leave. The crowd thins out, some stragglers run.)
Kind official. And everything would be, right, well, to expose at least one honest person! All rogues, yes rogues!

One of the people. Hey, you, wait for me at the crossroads! I'll run, I'll take my gloves.

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

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

Author of the play (leaving). I heard more than I expected. What a motley heap of talk! Happiness to a comedian who was born among a nation where society has not yet merged into one motionless mass, where it has not clothed itself with one crust of the old prejudice, enclosing the thoughts of all in the same form and measure, where every person, then opinion, where everyone is himself. character maker. What diversity in these opinions, and how this firm, clear Russian mind flashed everywhere! and in this noble aspiration of a statesman! and in this lofty selflessness of an official huddled in the wilderness! and in the gentle beauty of the generous female soul! and in the aesthetic sense of connoisseurs! and in the simple, true intuition of the people. How much, even in these unfriendly condemnations, that a comedian needs to know! What a living lesson! Yes, I am satisfied. But why does my heart feel sad? Strange: I'm sorry that no one noticed the honest face that was in my play. Yes, there was one honest, noble face that acted in it throughout its entire duration. That honest, noble face was laughter. He was noble, because he decided to speak out, despite the low importance that is given to him in the world. He was noble, because he decided to speak, in spite of the fact that he delivered the insulting nickname to the comedian - the nickname of a cold egoist, and even made him doubt the presence of the gentle 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 one thinks—not the kind of laughter that is engendered by temporary irritability, a bilious, sickly disposition of character; not that light laughter, which serves for the idle amusement and amusement of people; - but that laughter, which all emanates from the bright nature of man, emanates from it because at the bottom of it lies its eternally beating spring, which deepens the object, makes bright that which would slip through, without whose penetrating power a trifle and the emptiness of life would not frighten a man like that. The contemptible and insignificant, by which he indifferently passes every day, would not rise before him in such a terrible, almost caricature force, and he would not cry out, shuddering: "Could there be such people, , according to his own consciousness, there are worse people. No, they are unjust who say that laughter revolts. Only that which is gloomy is indignant, and laughter is bright. Many things would anger a man if they were presented in their 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 is already almost reconciled with him, seeing the low movements of his soul ridiculed. Unjust 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 who is brought on the stage: the rogue-descendant will laugh, but the rogue-contemporary is not able to laugh. He hears that everyone already has an irresistible image left, that one low movement on his part is enough for this image to become his eternal nickname; and even he who is no longer afraid of anything in the world is 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 what is pronounced in a stern, tense voice is only given the name of a high one. But, God! how many people pass every day for whom there is no lofty thing in the world! Everything that was created by inspiration is trifles and fables for them; creating Shakespeare for them fables; the holy movements of the soul are fables for them. No, it is not the offended petty vanity of the writer that compels me to 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 endure indifferently when the most perfect creations were honored by 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 there, in the midst of life itself, were unanswerable, dead inhabitants, terrible with the motionless cold of their souls and the barren desert of their hearts; my soul ached when not even a ghost of expression trembled on their insensible faces from that which plunged a deeply loving soul into heavenly tears, and their tongue did not stagnate to utter their own words. eternal word: "fables!" Fables! .. And the centuries have passed, cities and peoples have been demolished and disappeared from the face of the earth, everything that was blown away like smoke, and fables live and are repeated to this day, and wise kings, deep rulers, a beautiful old man and a young man full of noble aspirations listen to them . Fables! .. And the balconies and railings of theaters are moaning: everything shook from top to bottom, turned into one feeling, in one moment, into one person, all people met like brothers, in one spiritual movement, and a grateful hymn thunders with friendly applause which has been gone for five hundred years. Do his decayed bones hear it in the grave? Does his soul, having endured the severe grief of life, respond? And there, among the same rows of the shocked crowd, came dejected by grief and the unbearable burden of life, ready to desperately raise his hands on himself - and suddenly refreshing tears splashed from his eyes, and he went out reconciled to life and again asks grief from heaven and suffering, just to live and burst into tears again from such fables. Fables!.. But the world would doze off without such fables, life would become shallow, souls would be covered with mold and ooze. Fables! .. Oh, may the names of those who favorably listen to such fables remain forever holy in posterity: the wonderful finger of Providence was inseparably over the heads of their creators. In moments of even trouble 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 height of the inaccessible throne. Cheer up on the road! And may the soul not be embarrassed by condemnation, but may it gratefully accept the indications of shortcomings, not being overshadowed even then, if it were denied lofty movements and holy love for humanity! The world is like a whirlpool: opinions and rumors are always moving in it, but time grinds everything: like a husk, false ones fly off, and, like hard grains, motionless truths remain. What was considered empty may later appear armed strict meaning. In the depths of cold laughter, hot sparks of eternal mighty love can also be found. And why to know, maybe later it will be recognized by everyone, that by virtue of the same laws, why is proud and strong man is insignificant and weak in misfortune, but the weak one grows like a giant in the midst of troubles - by virtue of the same laws, who often sheds sincere, deep tears, he 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: he depicts the position of a comedian in society, a comedian who has chosen the subject of ridicule for abuses in the circle of various estates and positions. (Approx. Gogol.)
2 Vaudeville is a small, mostly one-act theatrical play, of a cheerful nature, with the singing of verses. In the first half of the 19th century, the performance certainly ended with a vaudeville.
3 The French expression (literally - "as it should") is decent, decent; comme il faut - decent, in the sense of belonging to the wealthy elite of society.
4 Kotzebue August (1761-1819) - German playwright, author of more than 200 plays that had at one time big success.
5 Aristophanes (444-380 BC) - the greatest dramatic writer ancient greece, bright representative political comedy; the work of Aristophanes reflected the 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 in front of the title, or title, page.
Quintilian was an ancient Roman writer, author of several works on the theory of eloquence.

Canopy of the theatre. There is a distant sound of applause. The author of the play comes out and thinks about how the public perceived his work. He notes that even seven or eight years ago, his heart would have beaten with joy, hearing these cries and applause. But after all, both the dancer and the magician were applauded by the public, although they do not affect the feelings and soul of a person. Therefore, now it is more important for the author to find out what people think about his play and hear the opinions of the audience. Even if they point out flaws to him, in every word, according to the author, there is a spark of truth.

The first spectators appear, they talk about some nonsense: about a restaurant, vaudeville, which should be played after the play, tight trousers, cards.

The author notices two officers waving their arms. At first they are quite positive about the play, but then the first one says: “Well, no, let's see what the magazines say: we need to put the critics on trial ...”

Immediately a writer appears, who talks with "it is not known what kind of person." He notes that the author's notes are quite sharp, but the writer categorically disagrees with him. The writer calls the jokes flat, and the play itself is devoid of plot. “It is not known what kind of person” immediately changes his mind and agrees with the writer.

Another writer enters, accompanied by listeners, and also scolds the "dirty" play. In his opinion, in the play "all caricatures" and not a single true person.

When he and the listeners leave, we again see the officers who previously spoke so well of the play. Now they say that the play is nothing more than a stupid farce. Are removed.

Two other officers appear. Their conversation is much more independent and deep. The first believes that there is no plot in the play, but the second says that the play does not have a love plot, so familiar to everyone, and everyone sees only a private plot, but does not see the general one. The tie should hug all faces, not just one or two. A third officer wedged into the conversation, why a fourth. The conversation turns to the fact that comedy is a low genre only for those who will look at the words and not the meaning. And “in the hands of talent, everything can serve as an instrument for the beautiful, if only it is ruled by a lofty thought to serve the beautiful.” About the play itself, they say that it has a lot of true and taken from nature, but lacks a plot and denouement. Also, young people note that our comedians can never do without the government. And they call it a secret faith in the government, in which, however, there is nothing wrong. One of the young people offers to continue the conversation with him, and they leave.

Several well-dressed and respectable people mutter something about not caring that there are rogues "somewhere", and this is not a mockery of vices, but a mockery of all of Russia.

Appear gentlemen A and B, important ranks, and "a modestly dressed man." “A modestly dressed man” notes how hypocrisy is struck with laughter, a decent mask, under which baseness and meanness appear, a rogue making a face of a well-meaning person. In the opinion of the “modestly dressed man,” such representations are needed so that the common man can distinguish the government from the bad reformers of the government. Mr. A is perplexed and asks: do such people really exist, why “ humble person” replies that another question should be asked: “Am I myself free from such vices?” But no one ever thinks about it. It turns out that the “modestly dressed person” is the official from small town. Due to the fact that not all officials in his city are honest people, he wanted to quit the service more than once, but after the performance he felt a desire to work, as there is a pen that can ridicule the vices of officials. Mr. A makes an offer to the official, but he refuses, not wanting to leave his position, since he is useful in this position. Messrs. C and P approach. Mr. P argues that after such plays, respect for officials is lost, but Mr. B notes that respect is lost only for those who perform their duties poorly.

Two bekeshi, a society lady and a man in uniform say that not a single Russian composition cannot compare with French, and we do not know how to write like that.

The three men come out arguing about whether the vices of officials and the government can be ridiculed. The two believe that there are a huge number of other things to laugh at. The third thinks that “this is always the case in the world: laugh at the truly noble, at what constitutes the high shrine of the soul, no one will become an intercessor; laugh at the vicious, vile and low - everyone will shout: "he laughs at the shrine."

Several ladies say that they laughed heartily, but felt a certain sadness. One of the ladies noticed that after the play, the meanest people shouted and resented the most.

Two spectators come out. The first says that each face individually is alive and true, but all these faces together produce a certain unnaturalness. The second viewer replies that “this is a gathering place: from everywhere, from different parts of Russia, exceptions to truth, error and abuse have flocked here to serve one idea - to produce in the viewer a bright, noble disgust from many something low.” And if even one honest face put into a comedy, then everyone would immediately go over to his side and forget about the rest.

The vaudeville after the play ends, the crowd appears. Someone scolds the play, someone tries to get through, there is noise and uproar. Someone says that such an incident actually happened in their town, someone notices that bribes are not taken like that at all. Some official says that there is no need to write anything else at all. There are so many books - read what has already been written!

A handsome and plump gentleman tells a "short and nondescript gentleman of a poisonous nature" that morality suffers from such plays! To which his interlocutor replies that morality is a relative thing.

Another group of interlocutors gossip about the author, inventing all sorts of fables on the go. They come to the conclusion that it is impossible to joke with laughter, and the author is a person for whom nothing is sacred. And in order to be a writer, you don’t need a special mind. All are being phased out.

The playwright comes out. He notes the diversity of opinion and rejoices in it. The author noticed both the noble aspiration of a statesman, and the high selflessness of an official who had huddled in the wilderness, and in tender beauty generous female soul, and in the aesthetic sense of connoisseurs. And the simple, true instinct of the people. But he is still sad. After all, none of the audience saw the only noble face in the play - laughter. That laughter, “which all emanates from the luminous nature of man, emanates from it because at its bottom there is an eternally beating spring of it, which deepens the subject, makes bright that which would slip through, without whose penetrating power the trifle and emptiness of life would not frighten a person like that. The author says that the works cannot be called fables, as one of the visitors to the theater did. After all, they respond human souls, they live and repeat forever. “The world is like a whirlpool: opinions and rumors are always moving in it, but time grinds everything: like a husk, false ones fly off, and, like hard grains, motionless truths remain. What was recognized as empty may later appear armed with a strict meaning. In the depths of cold laughter, hot sparks of eternal mighty love can also 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 a weak one grows like a giant in the midst of troubles, - by virtue of the same laws, who often sheds sincere, deep tears, he seems to laugh more than anyone else in the world! .. "

Current page: 1 (total book has 3 pages)

Nikolay Gogol
Theatrical tour after the presentation of a new comedy

Canopy of the theatre. On one side you can see the stairs leading to the lodges and galleries, in the middle the entrance to the chairs and the amphitheater; exit on the other side. A distant rumble of applause is heard.

The author of the play1
It goes without saying that the author of the play has an ideal face. It depicts the position of a comedian in society, a comedian who has chosen as a subject, mockery of abuses in the circle of various classes and positions.

(leaving).

Several decently dressed people appear; one says to the other:

Let's get out now. A minor vaudeville will be played.

Both leave.

Two comme il faut2
A decent person (a person as it should be).

dense properties, go down the stairs.

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

Second comme il faut. No, but very stupid.

The first comme il faut. Yes, not bad; but still something is missing. Yes, I recommend: new restaurant: fresh green peas were served to us yesterday (kisses fingertips)- charm! (Both leave.)

An officer runs, another holds his hand.

First officer. Let's stay!

Another officer. No, brother, you can’t lure you to vaudeville with a roll. We know these plays that are given for a snack: lackeys instead of actors, and women are a freak on a freak.

They leave.

Secular man, smartly dressed (coming down the stairs). The rogue tailor made me pantaloons, all the time it was embarrassing to sit. For this, I intend to delay him again, and for two years I will not pay my debts. (Leaves).

Also a man of the world, thicker (he speaks with liveliness to another). Never, never, believe me, he will not sit down to play with you. Less than one and a half hundred rubles, Robert, he does not play. I know this well, because my brother-in-law, Pafnutiev, plays with him every day.

Middle-aged official (coming out with outstretched arms). It's just, the devil knows what it is! sort of … sort of … It doesn't look like anything. (Gone).

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

Another. Please, what a translation! The action takes place in Russia, our customs and ranks even.

Sir, carefree about literature. I remember, however, there was something in French, not exactly like that.

Both leave.

One of two spectators (also going out). Now nothing can be known. Wait what the magazines say and then you'll know.

Two bekeshi (one another). Well, 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 there wasn’t something ... in its own way ... Well, of course, who is against this, so that it doesn’t happen again and ... where, so to speak … but anyway... (pursing his lips in affirmation) Yes Yes.

two officers.

First. I've never laughed so hard before.

Second. I think it's a great comedy.

First. Well, no, let's see what the magazines say, we need to put the critics on trial … Look look! (Pushes him by the arm.)

Second. What?

FIRST (pointing to one of the two coming down the stairs). Writer!

Second (hastily). Which?

First. This! chsh! let's hear what they have to say.

Second. Who else is with him?

First. Don't know; unknown person.

Both officers step aside and give them a seat.

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

Writer. Excuse me, what's so witty? What a low people brought out, what a tone? The jokes are the flattest; simple, even fat!

It is unknown what kind of person. Ah, that's another matter. I say: in regard to literary merit, I cannot judge; I just noticed that the play is funny, it gave pleasure.

Writer. Yes, it's not funny. Excuse me, what's so funny and what's the fun? The plot is incredible. All inconsistencies; no strings, no action, no consideration whatsoever.

It is unknown what kind of person. Well, I don't say anything against it. Literally so, literaryly it is not funny; but in relation, so to speak, from the side it has …

Writer. What is there? Damn, this doesn't even exist! So what is the spoken language? Who talks like that in high society? Well, tell me yourself, well, do we talk like that with you?

It is unknown what kind of person. This is true; You have noticed this very subtly. Exactly, I thought about it myself: there is no nobility in the conversation. All 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 don't praise. I myself now see that the play is nonsense. But suddenly

it is impossible to know this; I can't judge literary.

Both leave.

Another writer (enters, accompanied by listeners, to whom he speaks, waving his arms). Believe me, I know this business: disgusting play! dirty, dirty play! Not a single true face, all caricatures! This is not in nature; believe me, no, I know it better: I myself am a writer. They say: liveliness, observation … but it's all nonsense, it's all friends, friends praise, all friends! I have already heard that it is almost put into the Fonvizins, and the play is simply not worthy even to be called a comedy. Farce, farce, and the most unfortunate farce. The last, empty comedy of Kotzebue 3
August Kotzebue(1761-1819) - German playwright, author of vulgar sentimental plays, translated into Russian and constantly staged on stage in the first quarter XIX century.

In comparison with it, Mont Blanc in front of the Pulkovo mountain. I will prove it to them all, I will prove it mathematically, like two times two. It's just that friends and acquaintances praised him beyond measure, and so now, tea, he thinks of himself that he is a little bit like Shakespeare. Our friends will always praise us. Here, for example, is Pushkin. Why is all of Russia now talking about him? All the friends shouted, shouted, and then after them, the whole of Russia began to shout. (They leave with the audience.)

Both officers lean forward and take their places.

First. This is true, this is absolutely true: it is a farce; I have said this before, a stupid farce, supported by friends. I admit, it was even disgusting to look at many things.

Second. Why, did you say you've never laughed like that before?

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

Two other officers are behind.

One (other). Who is discussing this? Looks like one of yours?

Another, looking sideways into the face of the reasoner, waved his hand.

First. What, stupid?

Another. No, not that … He has a mind, but now after the release of the magazine, and the book came out late - and 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 for the most part come from the lips of those who themselves are of a very dubious tone, talk about drawing rooms, and are allowed only in the anterooms. But it's not about them. I'm talking about the fact that there is definitely no plot in the play.

Second. Yes, if you take the plot in the sense in which it is usually accepted, that is, in the sense of a love affair, then it definitely does not exist. But it seems that it is time to stop relying so far on this eternal plot. It is worth taking a closer look around. Everything has changed a long time ago. Now, the desire to get a favorable place, to shine and outshine, by all means, the other, to avenge neglect, for ridicule, ties up the drama more strongly. Do not electricity now have rank, money capital, an advantageous marriage, than love?

First. All this is good; but even in this respect, I still don’t see the plot in the play.

Second. I am not going to say now whether there is a plot in the play or not. I will only say that in general they are looking for a private plot and do not want to see a common one. People are innocently accustomed to these incessant lovers, without whose marriage the play cannot end. Of course, this is the plot, but what is the plot? - an exact knot on the corner of a scarf. No, comedy must tie itself together, with all its mass, into one big, common knot. The tie should embrace all the faces, not just one or two, touch what excites, more or less, all the actors. Here every hero; the course and course of the piece produces a shock to the whole machine: not a single wheel should remain rusty and out of use.

First. But still they cannot be heroes; one or two should rule the others?

Second. Not to rule at all, but to dominate. And in the car, some wheels move more noticeably and 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. And everything can tie up: the very horror, the fear of expectation, the storm of the law going far away …

First. But it goes beyond giving comedy some more universal meaning.

Second. But isn't this its direct and real meaning? At the very beginning, comedy was a social, folk creation. At least, this is how her father himself, Aristophanes, showed her. After that, she entered the narrow gorge of a private tie, introduced a love move, the same indispensable tie. But how weak is this plot in the best comedians, how insignificant are these theatrical lovers with their cardboard love!

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

Second. I'm not saying she can't get in. But only love and all other feelings, more exalted, will only make a high impression when they are developed in all depth. Having taken care of them, one must inevitably sacrifice everything else. Everything that constitutes precisely the side of comedy will then already turn pale, and the significance of social comedy will certainly disappear.

Third. So, the subject of comedy must necessarily be low? Comedy will come out already low kind.

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 lofty thought? Do not all, to the slightest bend of the soul of a mean and dishonest person, already draw 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 physician, both cold and hot water cure the same diseases with equal success. In the hands of talent, everything can serve as a tool for the beautiful, if only it is guided by the lofty thought to serve the beautiful.

Fourth (approaching). What can be beautiful? and what are you talking about?

First. We got into an argument about comedy. We're all talking about comedy in general, and no one has said anything about new comedy yet. What do you say?

Fourth. And here's what I'll say: talent is visible, observation of life, a lot of funny, true, taken from nature; but in general there is something missing in the whole play. Somehow you don't see the connection or the denouement. It is strange that our comedians cannot do without the government. Without him, we will not unleash a single comedy.

Third. This is true. And yet, 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 connected with the government. Therefore, it is not surprising that this is reflected in the creations of our writers.

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

Second. Well, you see: therefore, this is already something involuntary with our comedians. Therefore, this already constitutes some kind of distinctive character of our comedy. There is some kind of secret faith in the government in our chest. Well? there is nothing wrong 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 fate that overtook crimes.

Fifth. Hello gentlemen! I only hear the word "government". Comedy aroused shouts and talk …

Second. Let's talk better about these rumors and shouts at my place than here, in the theatrical vestibule.

They leave.

Several respectable and decently dressed people appear one after another.

№ 1. So, so, I see: it is true that we have and it happens in other places and worse; but for what purpose, why deduce it? - that's the question. Why these performances? what is the use of them? that's what let me! What do I need to know that there are rogues in such and such a place? I just … I do not understand the need for such representations. (Leaves).

№ 2. No, this is not a mockery of vices; this is a disgusting mockery of Russia - that's what. It means to expose the government itself in a bad way, because to expose bad officials and abuses that occur in different classes means to expose the government itself. Simply, such notions should not even be allowed. (Leaves).

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

Mr A. I'm not talking about this; on the contrary, we need to show abuses, we need to see our misdeeds; and I do not in the least share the opinions of many overexcited patriots; but only it seems to me that there is not too much something sad here …

Mr B. I would very much like you to hear the remark of a very modestly dressed man who was sitting next to me in armchairs. … Ah, here he is!

Mr A. Who?

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

And I, I confess, am very glad to continue it. Only now I have 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 recall and embrace the whole play, and I confess that the expression of the comedy now seemed to me even more significant. In it, it seems to me, hypocrisy is most strongly and deeply affected by laughter, a decent mask, under which baseness and meanness appear, a rogue making a face of a well-meaning person. I confess that I felt joy seeing how ridiculous the well-intentioned words in the mouth of a rogue and how hilariously ridiculous everything, from armchairs to the district, became the mask he put on. And after that, there are people who say that it is not necessary to bring this on stage! I heard one remark made, it seemed to me, by the way, by a rather decent person: “What will the people say when they see that we have such abuses?”

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

A very modestly dressed man. What will the people say? (Steps aside, two in Armenians pass.)

Blue Armenian (gray). Probably, the governors were nimble, but everyone turned pale when the royal reprisal came!

Both go out.

A very modestly dressed man. That's what the people will say, you hear?

Mr A. What?

A very modestly dressed man. He will say: “Probably, the governors were quick, but everyone turned pale when the royal reprisal came!” Do you hear how true to natural intuition and feeling a person is? How true is the simplest eye, if it is not clouded by theories and thoughts plucked from books, but draws them from the very nature of man! Isn't it obviously clear that after such a presentation the people will gain 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 come not from the government, but from those who do not understand the requirements of the government, from those who do not want to answer to the government. Let him see that the government is noble, that its unsleeping eye watches over all equally, that sooner or later it will overtake those who have betrayed the law, honor and holy duty of a person, that those with an unclean conscience will turn pale before it. Yes, he should see these ideas: believe that if he happens to experience pressure and injustice on himself, he will come out comforted after such a performance, with a firm faith in the unsleeping, higher law. I also like the remark: "The people will get a bad opinion about their bosses." That is, they imagine that the people will only see their leaders here, for the first time in the theater; that if at home some rogue elder squeezes him in his paw, then he will not see it in any way, but when he goes to the theater, then he will see it. Indeed, they consider our people to be more stupid than a log, stupid to such an extent that it is as if they are no longer able to distinguish which pie is with meat, and which with porridge. No, now it seems to me that it’s even good that an honest person has not been brought on stage. A proud man: put out one good side to him with many bad sides, he will already proudly leave the theater. No, it’s good that only exceptions and vices are exposed, which now prick their eyes to the point that they don’t want to be their compatriots, they are ashamed to even admit that this can be.

Mr A. But do we really have exactly such people?

A very modestly dressed man. Let me tell you this: I don't know why I get sad every time I hear a question like this. I can speak frankly with you: in the features of your faces I see something that disposes me to frankness. First of all, a person makes a request: “Do such people really exist?” But when it was seen that a person made such a question: “Am I myself completely free from such vices?” Never ever! Yes, that's what - I'll talk to you frankly. I have a good heart, there is 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 vicious inclinations, which you involuntarily fall into while living with people! And how can I say now that I don’t have those very inclinations that everyone just laughed at ten minutes ago, and at which I myself laughed.

Mr. A. (after some silence). I confess that you will ponder over your words. And when I remember, I will imagine how proud our European upbringing has made us, in general, how it has hidden us from ourselves, how haughtily and with what contempt we look at those who have not received an external polish like us, how each of us puts himself a little not holy, but always speaks of evil in the third person - then, I confess, my soul involuntarily becomes sad … But, pardon my indiscretion, you, however, are to blame for it yourself; let me ask: with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?

A very modestly dressed man. And I am nothing more, nothing less than one of those officials whose positions were taken by the faces of the comedy, and the third day I just arrived from my town.

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

A very modestly dressed man. It's a shame? And here's what I'll tell you about this: I confess, I often had to lose my patience. In our town, not all officials are from an honest dozen; often you have to climb a wall to do some good deed. Several times already I wanted to leave the service; but now, just 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 meanness among us does not remain hidden or condoned, that there, in the sight of all noble people, it is stricken with ridicule, that there is a pen that will not hinder the detection of our low movements, although this does not flatter our national pride, and that there is a noble government that will allow it to be shown to all who should, in the eyes, and this alone gives me zeal to continue my useful service.

Mr A. Let me make you one suggestion. I hold a significant public position. I need truly noble and honest helpers. I offer you a place where you will have a vast field of action, where you will receive incomparably more benefits and will be in sight.

A very modestly dressed man. Let me thank you from the bottom of my heart and from the bottom of my heart for such an offer and, at the same time, let me 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 convinced that some fine fellow will not sit down after me and begin to do pressing. If this offer was made by you in the form of a reward, then let me tell you: I applauded the author of the play on an equal footing with others, but I did not challenge him. What is his reward? You liked the play - praise it, and he - he only fulfilled his duty. With us, really, it has come to such a point that not only on the occasion of some feat, but simply, unless someone else spoils anyone in life and in the service, then he already considers himself God knows what a virtuous person; gets angry seriously if they do not notice and do not reward him. “Have mercy,” he says: “I have lived an honest life for a whole century, I have hardly done meanness at all - how can they not give me either a rank or an order?” No, for me, who is unable to be noble without encouragement - I do not believe his nobility, his mouse nobility is not worth a penny.

Mr A. At least you won't refuse me your acquaintance. Forgive my stubbornness; you see for yourselves that it is a consequence of my sincere respect. Give me your address.

A very modestly dressed man. Here is my address for you: but be sure that I will not allow you to use it, and tomorrow morning I will come to you. Excuse me, I was not brought up in a big world and I do not know how to speak … But to meet such generous attention in a statesman, such a desire for good … God forbid that every sovereign be surrounded by such people! (Quickly leaves.)

Mr. A. (turning over the card in his hands). I look at this card and at this surname unknown to me, and somehow my soul becomes full. This initially sad impression dissipated by itself. God bless you, our little-known Russia! In the wilderness, in your forgotten corner, such a 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 lit up after meeting this official, just as his own was lit up after the performance of a comedy.

Farewell! Thank you for bringing me this meeting. (Leaves).

Mr. V. (approaching Mr. B.) Who was with you? looks like a minister, huh?

Mr. P. (approaching from the other side). Have mercy, brother, what is it, how is it really? ..

Mr B. What?

Mr P. Well, how do you get it out?

Mr B. Why not?

Mr P. Well, judge for yourself: well, right? All vices and vices; Well, what example does this set for the audience?

Mr B. Do vices boast? After all, they are ridiculed.

Mr P. Well, that's all, brother, whatever you say: respect … after all, 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 badly.

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

Mr P. Exactly. That's what I wanted to point out to him. This is precisely the insult that is spreading. Now, for example, some titular adviser will be brought out, and then … uh … perhaps they will take … and Acting State Councilor 4
Acting State Councilor- one of higher ranks"table of ranks", a civilian general.

…

Mr B. Well, so what? The person must only be inviolable; and if I invented my own face and gave him some of the vices that happen between us, and gave him the rank that I thought of, even if it were a real state councilor, and would say that this real state councilor is not like he should be : what's wrong with that? Doesn't a goose also come across among real state councilors?

Mr P. Well, brother, this is too much. How can a goose be a real state councilor? Well, let it be titular … Well, you're too much.

Mr V. How to expose the bad, why not expose the good, worthy of imitation?

Mr B. For what? strange question: why? You can do a lot of such "why". Why did one father, wanting to extricate his son from a disorderly life, did not waste words and instructions, but brought him to the infirmary, where the terrible traces of a disorderly life appeared before him in all horror? Why did he do it?

Mr V. But let me tell you: these are already in some way our social wounds that need to be hidden, not shown.

Mr P. This is true. I completely agree with this. We need to hide the bad, not show.

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, it would only be necessary to close, to somehow heal from the outside these, as you call, social wounds, if only for the time being they were not visible, but inside let the disease rage - there is no need for that. There is no need that it should explode and show up with such symptoms when it is already too late for any cure. Until then, there is no need. You don’t want to know that without a deep heartfelt confession, without a Christian awareness of our sins, without exaggerating them in our own eyes, we are unable to rise above them, unable to soar with our souls above the contemptible in life. You don't want to know. Let a man remain deaf, let him sleepily go through his life, let him not shudder, let him not cry in the depths of his heart, let him bring his soul to such a state of sleep that nothing can shock it! No … excuse me. Cold selfishness moves the lips that utter such speeches, and not holy, pure love for humanity. (Exits.).

Mr. P. (after some silence). Why are you silent? What? What didn't you say, huh?

Mr. V. (silent).

Mr. P. (continuing). He can say whatever he likes to himself, but these are still our wounds, so to speak.

Mr. V. (aside). Well, these wounds caught on his tongue! He will talk about them to both the oncoming and the transverse!

Mr P. So, perhaps, I can say a bunch of things, but what of it? .. And here is Prince N. Listen, prince, don't go!

Prince N. And what?

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

Prince N. Yes, it's funny.

Mr P. But, nevertheless, tell me: how to represent it? - what does it look like …

Prince N. Why not present?

Mr P. Well, judge for yourself, well, but how is this rogue suddenly on the stage? because these are all our wounds.

Prince N. What wounds?

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

Prince N. (with annoyance). Take them for yourself. Let them be yours, not my wounds! Why are you poking them at me, it's time for me to go home. (Leaves).

Mr. P. (continuing). And then again, what the hell was he talking about here? He says a real state councilor can be a goose. Well, let it be titular, it can be allowed …

Mr V. However, let's go, fully interpret; I think that all those passing by have already learned that you are a real state councilor. (To the side). There are people who have the art of blaming everything. Having repeated your thought, they know how to make it so vulgar that you yourself blush. Say something stupid she might have slipped through unnoticed - no, an admirer and friend will be found who will certainly set her in motion and make her even more stupid than she is. Even annoying - right, as if planted in the mud. (They leave).

The military and civilian go out together.

State. After all, here you are, gentlemen of the military! You say it needs to be brought to the stage; you are ready to laugh to your heart's content at some state official, but touch on the military somehow, 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 ways, - Yes, because of this alone you are ready to climb into the state council itself with a complaint.

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 sensible people who will always be glad if someone who discredits his rank is brought to public ridicule. And what's wrong with that? Give it, give it to us! We are ready to watch every day.

Statsky (aside). This is how a person always shouts: serve! give it up! and if you give it, you will get angry.

They leave.

Two bekeshi.

The first bekesha. The French, too, for example; but they are all very nice. Well, remember, in yesterday's vaudeville: he undresses, gets into bed, grabs a 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 does not offend … I have a wife and children every day in the theater. And here, well, what is it, right? some scoundrel, a muzhik, whom I would not let into the hall, lounging with boots, yawning or picking his teeth, well, what is that right? what does it look like?

Gogol's comedy "The Government Inspector" evoked a wide variety of responses in Russian criticism, both positive and negative. But neither "praise" nor "accusation" seemed fair to Gogol: he saw that he was praised and scolded by many because they did not understand the goals that he himself pursued when writing his comedy. Wanting to find out its true meaning, Gogol wrote several explanations of the "Inspector General": "Decoupling of the Inspector", Theatrical tour after the presentation of the new comedy.

In The Theater Journey, Gogol responds to his critics by examining their accusations, partly their praises. The accusations against The Inspector General boiled down to the following: 1) this play is not a comedy, but a farce; 2) it was not built according to the rules: there is no plot and denouement, 3) there are no virtuous heroes in The Inspector General. 4) this comedy is a mockery of Russia, it is politically dangerous, as it undermines the "foundations" of Russian life. These accusations are made by spectators who, at the “theatrical junction”, descending the theater stairs after the end of the performance, share their impressions taken from the theater.

N. V. Gogol. Portrait by F. Müller, 1841

To all accusations, answers are immediately heard from the crowd that justify the author and his work. One of the spectators speaks about the correct construction of the play, about the great public importance serious comic book. Another spectator refutes the opinion that Gogol's comedy is politically dangerous, referring to the words of one peasant who said about the comedy: "I suppose the governors were quick, and everyone turned pale, as the tsarist reprisal came." From this exclamation he draws the conclusion that the "foundations" public life The "auditor" does not affect, respect is lost only for vicious servants of the state. The same viewer speaks of the great moral significance comedy, inviting listeners to take a closer look into their hearts, look there for those feelings and thoughts that are ridiculed by the author in his comedy.

At the end of The Theater Journey, Gogol puts into the mouth of one of his characters, the "author", his thoughts about the great purifying meaning of "laughter". He points out what an enormous spiritual power is hidden in laughter; everyone is afraid of him, even those "who are no longer afraid of anything in the world." Serious laughter is not idle talk. It deepens the subject, makes it appear brightly what would slip through without penetrating power, which the trifle and emptiness of life would not frighten a person like that; worthless and contemptible, by which a person passes indifferently every day? clarified and made understandable, thanks to the direction of the writer-humorist. His task, therefore, is to teach negative images, emphasizing and mocking the ugliness of evil. Ridiculing evil, he, thereby, exalts the ideal of good. That is why the humorist is not a gaer, not a buffoon jester, but a doctor who heals human ailments, while at the same time grieving over a fallen person. “In the depths of cold laughter,” Gogol says in Theatrical Ride through the lips of the “author” Gogol, “hot sparks of eternal, powerful love can be found, and who often sheds sincere, deep tears, he seems to laugh more than anyone else in the world.”

Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol

Theatrical tour after the presentation of a new comedy

Canopy of the theatre. On one side you can see the stairs leading to the lodges and galleries, in the middle the entrance to the chairs and the amphitheater; exit on the other side. A distant rumble of applause is heard.

Several decently dressed people appear; one says to the other:

Let's get out now. A minor vaudeville will be played.

Both leave.

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

Second comme il faut. No, but very stupid.

The first comme il faut. Yes, not bad; but still something is missing. Yes, I recommend: new restaurant: fresh green peas were served to us yesterday (kisses fingertips)- charm! (Both leave.)

An officer runs, another holds his hand.

First officer. Let's stay!

Another officer. No, brother, you can’t lure you to vaudeville with a roll. We know these plays that are given for a snack: lackeys instead of actors, and women are a freak on a freak.

They leave.

socialite, smartly dressed (going down the stairs). The rogue tailor made me pantaloons, all the time it was embarrassing to sit. For this, I intend to delay him again, and for two years I will not pay my debts. (Leaves).

Also a man of the world, tighter (speaking to another with liveliness). Never, never, believe me, he will not sit down to play with you. Less than one and a half hundred rubles, Robert, he does not play. I know this well, because my brother-in-law, Pafnutiev, plays with him every day.

middle aged official (leaving with outstretched arms). It's just, the devil knows what it is! Sort of... sort of... It doesn't look like anything. (Gone).

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

Another. Please, what a translation! The action takes place in Russia, our customs and ranks even.

Mister, carefree about literature. I remember, however, there was something in French, not exactly like that.

Both leave.

One of two spectators (also going out). Now nothing can be known. Wait what the magazines say and then you'll know.

Two bekeshi (one another). Well, how are you? I would like to know your opinion about comedy.

Another bekesha (makes significant movements with lips). Yes, of course, it’s impossible to say that there wasn’t something ... in its own way ... Well, of course, who is against this, so that it doesn’t happen again and ... where, so to speak ... but anyway ... (pursing his lips in affirmation) Yes Yes.

Two officers.

First. I've never laughed so hard before.

Second. I think it's a great comedy.

First. Well, no, let's see what they say in the magazines, we need to put the critics on trial ... Look, look! (Pushes him by the arm.)

Second. What?

First (pointing to one of the two coming down the stairs). Writer!

Second (hastily). Which?

First. This! chsh! let's hear what they have to say.

Second. Who else is with him?

First. Don't know; unknown person.

Both officers step aside and give them a seat.

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

Writer. Excuse me, what's so witty? What a low people brought out, what a tone? The jokes are the flattest; simple, even fat!

It is unknown what kind of person. Ah, that's another matter. I say: in regard to literary merit, I cannot judge; I just noticed that the play is funny, it gave pleasure.

Writer. Yes, it's not funny. Excuse me, what's so funny and what's the fun? The plot is incredible. All inconsistencies; no strings, no action, no consideration whatsoever.

It is unknown what kind of person. Well, I don't say anything against it. Literally so, literaryly it is not funny; but in relation, so to speak, from the side it has ...

Writer. What is there? Damn, this doesn't even exist! So what is the spoken language? Who talks like that in high society? Well, tell me yourself, well, do we talk like that with you?

It is unknown what kind of person. This is true; You have noticed this very subtly. Exactly, I thought about it myself: there is no nobility in the conversation. All 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 don't praise. I myself now see that the play is nonsense. But suddenly

it is impossible to know this; I can't judge literary.

Both leave.

Another writer (enters, accompanied by listeners, to whom he speaks, waving his arms). Believe me, I know this business: disgusting play! dirty, dirty play! Not a single true face, all caricatures! This is not in nature; believe me, no, I know it better: I myself am a writer. They say: liveliness, observation ... but it's all nonsense, it's all friends, friends praise, all friends! I have already heard that it is almost put into the Fonvizins, and the play is simply not worthy even to be called a comedy. Farce, farce, and the most unfortunate farce. The last, most empty comedy of Kotzebue in comparison with her is Mont Blanc in front of Pulkovo Hill. I will prove it to them all, I will prove it mathematically, like two times two. It's just that friends and acquaintances praised him beyond measure, and so now, tea, he thinks of himself that he is a little bit like Shakespeare. Our friends will always praise us. Here, for example, is Pushkin. Why is all of Russia now talking about him? All the friends shouted, shouted, and then after them, the whole of Russia began to shout. (They leave with the audience.)

Both officers lean forward and take their places.

First. This is true, this is absolutely true: it is a farce; I have said this before, a stupid farce, supported by friends. I admit, it was even disgusting to look at many things.

Second. Why, did you say you've never laughed like that before?

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

Two other officers are behind.

One (other). Who is discussing this? Looks like one of yours?

Another, looking sideways into the face of the reasoner, waved his hand.

First. What, stupid?

Another. No, not that... He has a mind, but now after the release of the magazine, and the book came out late - and 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 for the most part come from the lips of those who themselves are of a very dubious tone, talk about drawing rooms, and are allowed only in the anterooms. But it's not about them. I'm talking about the fact that there is definitely no plot in the play.

Second. Yes, if you take the plot in the sense in which it is usually accepted, that is, in the sense of a love affair, then it definitely does not exist. But it seems that it is time to stop relying so far on this eternal plot. It is worth taking a closer look around. Everything has changed a long time ago. Now, the desire to get a favorable place, to shine and outshine, by all means, the other, to avenge neglect, for ridicule, ties up the drama more strongly. Do not electricity now have rank, money capital, an advantageous marriage, than love?

First. All this is good; but even in this respect, I still don’t see the plot in the play.

Second. I am not going to say now whether there is a plot in the play or not. I will only say that in general they are looking for a private plot and do not want to see a common one. People are innocently accustomed to these incessant lovers, without whose marriage the play cannot end. Of course, this is the plot, but what is the plot? - an exact knot on the corner of a scarf. No, comedy must tie itself together, with all its mass, into one big, common knot. The tie should embrace all the faces, not just one or two, touch what excites, more or less, all the actors. Here every hero; the course and course of the piece produces a shock to the whole machine: not a single wheel should remain rusty and out of use.

First. But still they cannot be heroes; one or two should rule the others?

Second. Not to rule at all, but to dominate. And in the car, some wheels move more noticeably and 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. And everything can tie up: the very horror, the fear of expectation, the storm of the law going far away ...

First. But it goes beyond giving comedy some more universal meaning.

Second. But isn't this its direct and real meaning? At the very beginning, comedy was a social, folk creation. At least, this is how her father himself, Aristophanes, showed her. After that, she entered the narrow gorge of a private tie, introduced a love move, the same indispensable tie. But how weak is this plot in the best comedians, how insignificant are these theatrical lovers with their cardboard love!

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

Second. I'm not saying she can't get in. But only love and all other feelings, more exalted, will only make a high impression when they are developed in all depth. Having taken care of them, one must inevitably sacrifice everything else. Everything that constitutes precisely the side of comedy will then already turn pale, and the significance of social comedy will certainly disappear.

Third. So, the subject of comedy must necessarily be low? Comedy will come out already low kind.

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 lofty thought? Do not all, to the slightest bend of the soul of a mean and dishonest person, already draw 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 physician, both cold and hot water cure the same diseases with equal success. In the hands of talent, everything can serve as a tool for the beautiful, if only it is guided by the lofty thought to serve the beautiful.