KHLESTAKOV. I wonder where he lives now, on Pochtamtskaya or Grokhovaya Street. He likes to move often, too, to get out of paying rent. I'll make a guess and send it to Pochtamtskaya Street. [Folds the letter and addresses it.] Osip brings the candle. Khlestakov seals the letter with sealing wax. At that moment Derzhimorda's voice is heard saying: "Where are you going, whiskers? You've been told that nobody is allowed to come in." KHLESTAKOV [giving the letter to Osip]. There, have it mailed. MERCHANT'S VOICE. Let us in, brother. You have no right to keep us out. We have come on business. DERZHIMORDA'S VOICE. Get out of here, get out of here! He doesn't receive anybody. He's asleep. The disturbance outside grows louder. KHLESTAKOV. What's the matter there, Osip? See what the noise is about. OSIP [looking through the window]. There are some merchants there who want to come in, and the sergeant won't let them. They are waving papers. I suppose they want to see you. KHLESTAKOV [going to the window]. What is it, friends? MERCHANT'S VOICE. We appeal for your protection. Give orders, your Lordship, that our petitions be received. KHLESTAKOV. Let them in, let them in. Osip, tell them to come in. Osip goes out. KHLESTAKOV [takes the petitions through the window, unfolds one of them and reads]. "To his most honorable, illustrious financial Excellency, from the merchant Abdulin...." The devil knows what this is! There's no such title. SCENE X Khlestakov and Merchants, with a basket of wine and sugar loaves. KHLESTAKOV. What is it, friends? MERCHANTS. We beseech your favor. KHLESTAKOV. What do you want? MERCHANTS. Don't ruin us, your Worship. We suffer insult and wrong wholly without cause. KHLESTAKOV. From whom? A MERCHANT. Why, from our governor here. Such a governor there never was yet in the world, your Worship. No words can describe the injuries he inflicts upon us. He has taken the bread out of our mouths by quartering soldiers on us, so that you might as well put your neck in a noose. He doesn't treat you as you deserve. He catches hold of your beard and says, "Oh, you Tartar!" Upon my word, if we had shown him any disrespect, but we obey all the laws and regulations. We don't mind giving him what his wife and daughter need for their clothes, but no, that's not enough. So help me God! He comes to our shop and takes whatever his eyes fall on. He sees a piece of cloth and says, "Oh, my friends, that's a fine piece of goods. Take it to my house." So we take it to his house. It will be almost forty yards. KHLESTAKOV. Is it possible? My, what a swindler!