AMMOS. Try what?

ARTEMY. It's clear what.

AMMOS. Grease?

ARTEMY. Exactly, grease.

AMMOS. It's risky, the deuce take it. He'll fly into
a rage at us. He's a government official, you know.
Perhaps it should be given to him in the form of a gift
from the nobility for some sort of memorial?

POSTMASTER. Or, perhaps, tell him some money has
been sent here by post and we don't know for whom?

ARTEMY. You had better look out that he doesn't
send you by post a good long ways off. Look here,
things of such a nature are not done this way in a well-ordered
state. What's the use of a whole regiment
here? We must present ourselves to him one at a time,
and do--what ought to be done, you know--so that
eyes do not see and ears do not hear. That's the way
things are done in a well-ordered society. You begin
it, Ammos Fiodorovich, you be the first.

AMMOS. You had better go first. The distinguished
guest has eaten in your institution.