Khlestakov, Osip, and later the Servant.
KHLESTAKOV
Well?
OSIP
They're bringing dinner.
KHLESTAKOV
[claps his hands and wriggles in his chair]. Dinner, dinner, dinner!
SERVANT
[with plates and napkin]. This is the last time the landlord will let you have dinner.
KHLESTAKOV
The landlord, the landlord! I spit on your landlord. What have you got there?
SERVANT
Soup and roast beef.
KHLESTAKOV
What! Only two courses?
SERVANT
That's all.
KHLESTAKOV
Nonsense! I won't take it. What does he mean by that? Ask him. It's not enough.
SERVANT
The landlord says it's too much.
KHLESTAKOV
Why is there no sauce?
SERVANT
There is none.
KHLESTAKOV
Why not? I saw them preparing a whole lot when I pa**ed through the kitchen. And in the dining-room this morning two short little men were eating salmon and lots of other things.
SERVANT
Well, you see, there is some and there isn't.
KHLESTAKOV
Why "isn't"?
SERVANT
Because there isn't any.
KHLESTAKOV
What, no salmon, no fish, no cutlets?
SERVANT
Only for the better kind of folk.
KHLESTAKOV
You're a fool.
SERVANT
Yes, sir.
KHLESTAKOV
You measly s**ling pig. Why can they eat and I not? Why the devil can't I eat, too? Am I not a guest the same as they?
SERVANT
No, not the same. That's plain.
KHLESTAKOV
How so?
SERVANT
That's easy. THEY pay, that's it.
KHLESTAKOV
I'm not going to argue with you, simpleton! [Ladles out the soup and begins to eat.] What, you call that soup? Simply hot water poured into a cup. No taste to it at all. It only stinks. I don't want it. Bring me some other soup.
SERVANT
All right. I'll take it away. The boss said if you didn't want it, you needn't take it.
KHLESTAKOV
[putting his hand over the dishes]. Well, well, leave it alone, you fool. You may be used to treat other people this way, but I'm not that sort. I advise you not to try it on me. My God! What soup! [Goes on eating.] I don't think anybody in the world tasted such soup. Feathers floating on the top instead of bu*ter. [Cuts the piece of chicken in the soup.] Oh, oh, oh! What a bird!—Give me the roast beef. There's a little soup left, Osip. Take it. [Cuts the meat.] What sort of roast beef is this? This isn't roast beef.
SERVANT
What else is it?
KHLESTAKOV
The devil knows, but it isn't roast beef. It's roast iron, not roast beef. [Eats.] Scoundrels! Crooks! The stuff they give you to eat! It makes your jaws ache to chew one piece of it. [Picks his teeth with his fingers.] Villains! It's as tough as the bark of a tree. I can't pull it out no matter how hard I try. Such meat is enough to ruin one's teeth. Crooks! [Wipes his mouth with the napkin.] Is there nothing else?
SERVANT
No.
KHLESTAKOV
Scoundrels! Blackguards! They might have given some decent pastry, or something, the lazy good-for-nothings! Fleecing their guests! That's all they're good for.
[The Servant takes the dishes and carries them out accompanied by Osip.]