Мертві душі
Chapter 3
Inwhatothercallingwillyoufindsuchdelightsinprospect?”Ashespoke,Kostanzhogloraisedhisface,anditbecameclearthatthewrinkleshadfledfromit,andthat,liketheTsaronthesolemndayofhiscrowning,Kostanzhoglo’swholeformwasdiffusinglight,andhisfeatureshadinthemagentleradiance.“Inalltheworld,”herepeated,“youwillfindnojoyslikethese,forhereinmanimitatestheGodwhoprojectedcreationasthesupremehappiness,andnowdemandsofmanthathe,too,shouldactasthecreatorofprosperity.Yettherearefolkwhocallsuchfunctionstedious!”
Kostanzhoglo’smellifluousperiodsfelluponChichikov’searlikethenotesofabirdofparadise.Fromtimetotimehegulped,andhissoftenedeyesexpressedthepleasurewhichitgavehimtolisten.
“Constantine,itistimetoleavethetable,”saidtheladyofthehouse,risingfromherseat.Everyonefollowedherexample,andChichikovonceagainactedashishostess’sescort—althoughwithlessdexterityofdeportmentthanbefore,owingtothefactthatthistimehisthoughtswereoccupiedwithmoreessentialmattersofprocedure.
“Inspiteofwhatyousay,”remarkedPlatonashewalkedbehindthepair,“I,formypart,findthesethingswearisome.”
Butthemasterofthehousepaidnoattentiontohisremark,forhewasreflectingthathisguestwasnofool,butamanofseriousthoughtandspeechwhodidnottakethingslightly.
