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diff --git a/7991-h/7991-h.htm b/7991-h/7991-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9fa816e --- /dev/null +++ b/7991-h/7991-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5186 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Storm, by Aleksandr Nicolaevich Ostrovsky + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + .side { float: right; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; margin-left: 0.8em; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Storm, by Aleksandr Nicolaevich Ostrovsky + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Storm + +Author: Aleksandr Nicolaevich Ostrovsky + +Translator: Constance Garnett + +Release Date: May 12, 2013 [EBook #7991] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORM *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, S.R.Ellison and the DP Proofreading Team + + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE STORM + </h1> + <h2> + By Aleksandr Nicolaevich Ostrovsky + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated By Constance Garnett + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>THE STORM</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>ACT I</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> SCENE I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> SCENE II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> SCENE III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> SCENE IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> SCENE V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> SCENE VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> SCENE VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> SCENE VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> SCENE IX </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> <b>ACT II</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> SCENE I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> SCENE II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> SCENE III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> SCENE IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> SCENE V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> SCENE VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> SCENE VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> SCENE VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> SCENE IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> SCENE X </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> <b>ACT III</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> SCENE I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> SCENE II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> SCENE III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> SCENE IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> SCENE V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> SCENE VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> SCENE VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> SCENE VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> SCENE IX </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> <b>ACT IV</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> SCENE I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> SCENE II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> SCENE III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> SCENE IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> SCENE V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> SCENE VI </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> <b>ACT V</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> SCENE I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> SCENE II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0044"> SCENE III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0045"> SCENE IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0046"> SCENE V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0047"> SCENE VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0048"> SCENE VII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <p> + Up to the years of the Crimean War Russia was always a strange, uncouth + riddle to the European consciousness. It would be an interesting study to + trace back through the last three centuries the evidence of the historical + documents that our forefathers have left us when they were brought face to + face, through missions, embassies, travel, and commerce, with the + fantastic life, as it seemed to them, led by the Muscovite. But in any + chance record we may pick up, from the reports of a seventeenth century + embassy down to the narrative of an early nineteenth century traveller, + the note always insisted on is that of all the outlandish civilisations, + queer manners and customs of Europeans, the Russian's were the queerest + and those standing furthest removed from the other nations'. And this + sentiment has prevailed to-day, side by side with the better understanding + we have gained of Russia. Nor can this conception, generally held among + us, which is a half truth, be removed by personal contact or mere + objective study; for example, of the innumerable memoirs published on the + Crimean war, it is rare to find one that gives us any real insight into + the nature of the Russian. And the conception itself can only be amended + and enlarged by the study of the Russian mind as it expresses itself in + its own literature. The mind of the great artist, of whatever race he + springs, cannot lie. From the works of Thackeray and George Eliot in + England and Turgenev and Tolstoi in Russia, a critic penetrates into the + secret places of the national life, where all the clever objective + pictures of foreign critics must lead him astray. Ostrovsky's drama, "The + Storm," here translated for the English reader, is a good instance of this + truth. It is a revelation of the old-fashioned Muscovite life <i>from the + inside</i>, and Ostrovsky thereby brings us in closer relation to that + primitive life than was in the power of Tolstoi or Goncharov, or even + Gogol to bring us. These great writers have given us admirable pictures of + the people's life as it appeared to them at the angle of the educated + Westernised Russian mind; but here in "The Storm" is the atmosphere of the + little Russian town, with its primitive inhabitants, merchants, and + workpeople, an atmosphere untouched, unadulterated by the <i>ideas</i> of + any outside European influence. It is the Russia of Peter the Great and + Catherine's time, the Russian patriarchal family life that has existed for + hundreds of years through all the towns and villages of Great Russia, that + lingers indeed to-day in out-of-the-way corners of the Empire, though now + invaded and much broken up by modern influences. It is, in fact, the very + Muscovite life that so puzzled our forefathers, and that no doubt will + seem strange to many English readers. But the special triumph of "The + Storm" is that although it is a realistic picture of old-fashioned Russian + patriarchal life, it is one of the deepest and simplest psychological + analyses of the Russian soul ever made. It is a very deep though a very + narrow analysis. Katerina, the heroine, to the English will seem weak, and + crushed through her weakness; but to a Russian she typifies revolt, + freedom, a refusal to be bound by the cruelty of life. And her attitude, + despairing though it seems to us, is indeed the revolt of the spirit in a + land where Tolstoi's doctrine of non-resistance is the logical outcome of + centuries of serfdom in a people's history. The merchant Dikoy, the bully, + the soft characterless lover Boris, the idealistic religious Katerina, + Kuligin the artisan, and Madame Kabanova, the tyrannical mother, all these + are true national types, true Russians of the changing ages, and the + counterparts of these people may be met to-day, if the reader takes up + Tehehov's tales. English people no doubt will find it difficult to believe + that Madame Kabanova could so have crushed Katerina's life, as Ostrovsky + depicts. Nothing indeed is so antagonistic to English individualism and + independence as is the passivity of some of the characters in "The Storm." + But the English reader's very difficulty in this respect should give him a + clue to much that has puzzled Europeans, should help him to penetrate into + the strangeness of Russian political life, the strangeness of her love of + despotism. Only in the country that produces such types of weakness and + tyranny is possible the fettering of freedom of thought and act that we + have in Russia to-day. Ostrovsky's striking analysis of this fatalism in + the Russian soul will help the reader to understand the unending struggle + in Russia between the enlightened Europeanised intelligence of the few, + and the apathy of the vast majority of Russians who are disinclined to + rebel against the crystallised conditions of their lives. Whatever may be + strange and puzzling in "The Storm" to the English mind, there is no doubt + that the Russians hail the picture as essentially true. The violence of + such characters as Madame Kabanova and Dikoy may be weakened to-day + everywhere by the gradual undermining of the patriarchal family system now + in progress throughout Russia, but the picture is in essentials a + criticism of the national life. On this point the Russian critic + Dobroliubov, criticising "The Storm," says: "The need for justice, for + respect for personal rights, this is the cry ... that rises up to the ear + of every attentive reader. Well, can we deny the wide application of this + need in Russia? Can we fail to recognise that such a dramatic background + corresponds with the true condition of Russian society? Take history, + think of our life, look about you, everywhere you will find justification + of our words. This is not the place to launch out into historical + investigation; it is enough to point out that our history up to the most + recent times has not fostered among us the development of a respect for + equity, has not created any solid guarantees for personal rights, and has + left a wide field to arbitrary tyranny and caprice." This criticism of + Dobroliubov's was written in 1860, the date of the play; but we have only + to look back at the internal history of Russia for the last thirty years + to see that it too "has not created any solid guarantees for personal + rights, and has left a wide field to arbitrary tyranny and caprice." And + here is Ostrovsky's peculiar merit, that he has in his various dramas + penetrated deeper than any other of the great Russian authors into one of + the most fundamental qualities of the Russian nature—its innate + tendency to arbitrary power, oppression, despotism. Nobody has drawn so + powerfully, so truly, so incisively as he, the type of the 'samodour' or + 'bully,' a type that plays a leading part in every strata of Russian life. + From Turgenev we learn more of the reverse side of the Russian character, + its lack of will, tendency to weakness, dreaminess and passivity: and it + is this aspect that the English find it so hard to understand, when they + compare the characters in the great Russian novels with their own idea of + Russia's formidable power. The people and the nation do not seem to + correspond. But the riddle may be read in the coexistence of Russia's + internal weakness and misery along with her huge force, and the immense + rôle she fills as a civilising power. In "The Storm" we have all the + contradictory elements: a life strongly organised, yet weak within; + strength and passivity, despotism and fatalism side by side. + </p> + <p> + The author of "The Storm," Alexander Ostrovsky (born in Moscow 1823, died + 1886), is acknowledged to be the greatest of the Russian dramatists. He + has been called "a specialist in the natural history of the Russian + merchant," and his birth, upbringing, family connections and vocations + gave him exceptional facilities for penetrating into the life of that + class which he was the first to put into Russian literature. His best + period was from 1850 to 1860, but all his work received prompt and + universal recognition from his countrymen. In 1859 Dobroliubov's famous + article, "The Realm of Darkness," appeared, analysing the contents of all + Ostrovsky's dramas, and on the publication of "The Storm" in 1860, it was + followed by another article from the same critic, "A Ray of Light in the + Realm of Darkness." These articles were practically a brief for the case + of the Liberals, or party of Progress, against the official and Slavophil + party. Ostrovsky's dramas in general are marked by intense sombreness, + biting humour and merciless realism. "The Storm" is the most poetical of + his works, but all his leading plays still hold the stage. + </p> + <p> + "The Storm" will repay a minute examination by all who recognise that in + England to-day we have a stage without art, truth to life, or national + significance. There is not a superfluous line in the play: all is drama, + natural, simple, deep. There is no <i>falsity</i>, no forced situations, + no sensational effects, none of the shallow or flashy caricatures of daily + life that our heterogeneous public demands. All the reproach that lives + for us in the word <i>theatrical</i> is worlds removed from "The Storm." + The people who like 'farcical comedy' and social melodrama, and 'musical + sketches' will find "The Storm" deep, forbidding and gloomy. The critic + will find it an abiding analysis of a people's temperament. The reader + will find it literature. + </p> + <p> + E. G. <i>November</i>, 1898. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE STORM + </h1> + <h3> + DRAMATIS PERSONÆ + </h3> + <p> + SAVIL PROKOFIEVITCH DIKOY, <i>a merchant, and personage of importance in + the town</i>. + </p> + <p> + BORIS GRIGORIEVITCH, <i>his nephew, a young man of good education</i>. + </p> + <p> + MARFA IGNATIEVNA KABANOVA, <i>a rich merchant's widow</i>. + </p> + <p> + TIHON IVANITCH KABANOV, <i>her son</i>. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA, <i>his wife</i>. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA, <i>sister of Tihon</i>. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN, <i>a man of artisan class, a self-taught watchmaker, engaged in + trying to discover the secret of perpetual motion</i>. + </p> + <p> + VANIA KUDRIASH, <i>a young man, clerk to Dikoy</i>. + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN, <i>an artisan</i>. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA, <i>a pilgrim woman</i>. + </p> + <p> + GLASHA, <i>a maid servant in the Kabanovs' house</i>. + </p> + <p> + AN OLD LADY <i>of seventy, half mad, with</i> TWO FOOTMEN. + </p> + <p> + TOWNSPEOPLE <i>of both sexes</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + <i>The action takes place in the town of Kalinov, on the banks of the + Volga, in summertime. There is an interval of ten days between the 3rd and + 4th acts. All the characters except Boris are dressed in old Russian + national dress.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT I + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE I + </h2> + <p> + A public garden on the steep bank of the Volga; beyond the Volga, a view + of the country. On the stage two benches and a few bushes. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN (<i>sitting on a bench, looking towards the river</i>). + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH and SHAPKIN (<i>walking up and down</i>). + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN (<i>singing</i>). "Amidst the level dales, upon a sloping + hillside,"... (<i>ceases singing</i>) Wonderful, one really must say it's + wonderful! Kudriash! Do you know, I've looked upon the Volga every day + these fifty years and I can never get tired of looking upon it. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. How's that? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. It's a marvellous view! Lovely! It sets my heart rejoicing. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. It's not bad. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. It's exquisite! And you say "not bad"! You are tired of it, or + you don't feel the beauty there is in nature. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Come, there's no use talking to you! You're a genuine antique, + we all know, a chemical genius. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Mechanical, a self-taught mechanician. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. It's all one. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Silence.</i> + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN (<i>pointing away</i>). Look, Kudriash, who's that waving his arms + about over there? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. There? Oh, that's Dikoy pitching into his nephew. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. A queer place to do it! + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. All places are alike to him. He's not afraid of any one! Boris + Grigoritch is in his clutches now, so he is always bullying him. + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN. Yes, you wouldn't find another bully like our worthy Saviol + Prokofitch in a hurry! He pulls a man up for nothing at all. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. He is a stiff customer. + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN. Old Dame Kabanova's a good hand at that too! + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Yes, but she at least does it all under pretence of morality; + he's like a wild beast broken loose! + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN. There's no one to bring him to his senses, so he rages about as + he likes! + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. There are too few lads of my stamp or we'd have broken him of + it. + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN. Why, what would you have done? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. We'd have given him a good scare. + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN. How'd you do that? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Why, four or five of us would have had a few words with him, + face to face, in some back street, and he'd soon have been as soft as + silk. And he'd never have let on to a soul about the lesson we'd given + him; he'd just have walked off and taken care to look behind him. + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN. I see he'd some reason for wanting to get you sent for a soldier. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. He wanted to, right enough, but he didn't do it. No, he won't + get rid of me; he's an inkling that I'd make him pay too dear for it. + You're afraid of him, but I know how to talk to him. + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN. Oh, I daresay! + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. What do you mean by that? I am reckoned a tough one to deal + with. Why do you suppose he keeps me on? Because he can't do without me, + to be sure. Well, then, I've no need to be afraid of him; let him be + afraid of me. + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN. Why, doesn't he swear at you? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Swear at me! Of course; he can't breathe without that. But I + don't give way to him: if he says one word, I say ten; he curses and goes + off. No, I'm not going to lick the dust for him. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. What, follow his example! You'd do better to bear it in patience. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Come, I say, if you're so wise, teach him good manners first and + then we'll learn! It's a pity his daughters are all children, there's not + one grown-up girl among them. + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN. What if there were? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. I should treat him as he deserves if there were. I'm a devil of + a fellow among the girls! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Dikoy and Boris advance. Kuligin takes off his hat.</i> + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN (<i>to Kudriash</i>). Let us move off; he'll pick a quarrel with + us, very likely. + </p> + <p> + [<i>They move off a little.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II. + </h2> + <h3> + The Same, DIKOY and BORIS. + </h3> + <p> + DIKOY. Did you come here to loaf about in idleness? eh? Lazy good for + nothing fellow, confound you! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. It's a holiday; what could I be doing at home? + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. You'd find work to do if you wanted to. I've said it once, and I've + said it twice, "don't dare to let me come across you"; you're + incorrigible! Isn't there room enough for you? Go where one will, there + you are! Damn you! Why do you stand there like a post? Do you hear what's + said to you? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. I'm listening,—what more am I to do? + </p> + <p> + DIKOY (<i>looking at Boris</i>). Get away with you! I won't talk to a + Jesuit like you. (<i>Going</i>) To come forcing himself on me here! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Spits and exit</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE III + </h2> + <p> + KULIGIN, BORIS, KUDRIASH, and SHAPKIN. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. What have you to do with him, sir? We can't make it out. What can + induce you to live with him and put up with his abuse? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. A poor inducement, Kuligin! I'm not free. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. But how are you not free, allow me to ask you. If you can tell + us, sir, do. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Why not? You knew our grandmother, Anfisa Mihalovna? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. To be sure I did! + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. I should think we did! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. She quarrelled with my father you know because he married into a + noble family. It was owing to that that my father and mother lived in + Moscow. My mother used to tell me that she could hardly endure life for + three days together with my father's relations, it all seemed so rough and + coarse to her. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Well it might! you have to be used to it from the first, sir, to + be able to bear it. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Our parents brought us up well in Moscow, they spared no expense. + They sent me to the Commercial Academy, and my sister to a boarding + school, but they both died suddenly of cholera. We were left orphans, my + sister and I. Then we heard that our grandmother was dead here, and had + left a will that our uncle was to pay us a fair share of her fortune, when + we came of age, only upon one condition. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. And what was that, sir? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. If we showed a proper respect for his authority. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Then there's no doubt, sir, you'll never see your fortune. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. No, but that's not all, Kuligin! First he finds fault with us to + his heart's content, and ends none the less with giving us nothing, or + some tiny dole. And then he'll go making out that it's a great favour, and + that he ought not to have done even that. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. That's just the way the merchants go on among us. Besides, if + you were ever so respectful to him, who's to hinder him from saying you're + disrespectful? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. To be sure. And indeed he sometimes will say: I've children of my + own, why should I give money away to outsiders? Am I to wrong my own like + that? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. It's plain, sir, you're not in luck's way. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. If it were only me, I wouldn't care! I'd throw it all up and go + away. But I'm sorry for my sister. He did write for her to come too, but + mother's relations wouldn't let her, they wrote she wasn't well. It + frightens me to think what the life here would be for her. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Of course. The master's no decent manners at all. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. In what capacity do you live with him, sir; what arrangement has + he made with you? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Why, none whatever; "you live with me," he says, "and do what + you're told, and your pay shall be what I give you," that's to say, in a + year's time he'll settle up with me as he thinks fit. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. That's just his way. Not one of us dare as much as hint at a + salary, or he storms till he's black in the face. "How do you know," he'll + say, "what I have in my mind to do? Do you suppose you can see into my + heart? Maybe, I shall be so disposed as to give you five thousand." It's + no use talking to him! Only you may be pretty sure he's never been + disposed that way in his life. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. It's a hard case, sir! You must try and get the right side of him + somehow. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. But the point is, Kuligin, that it's impossible. Why, even his own + children can never do anything to please him; so it's hardly likely I + could! + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Who could please him, when his whole life's spent in bullying + people? Especially where money's at stake; no accounts are ever settled + without storms of abuse. Often people are glad to go short of their due, + if only he'll let them off quietly. Woe to us if anyone vexes him in the + morning! He falls foul of everyone all day long. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Every morning my aunt entreats us with tears in her eyes: "Don't + anger him, friends! Dear boys, don't anger him!" + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. But you can never avoid it! If he goes to the bazaar, it's all + up! He scolds all the peasants. Even if they ask him less than cost price + they never get off without abuse. And then he's upset for the whole day. + </p> + <p> + SHAPKIN. He's a bully—there's no other word for him. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. A bully? I should think he is! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. And what's fatal is if some man offends him, whom he daren't be + rude to. Then all his household have to look out for themselves! + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Bless my soul! That was a joke though. Didn't that hussar let + him have it on the Volga, at the ferry! Oh, a lovely shindy he kicked up + afterwards, too. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Ah, and didn't his family suffer for it! Why, for a fortnight after + we were all hiding away in the attics and cupboards. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Surely that's not the folk coming back from vespers? + </p> + <p> + [<i>Several persons pass in the background</i>. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Come on, Shapkin, let's get a drink! It's no good stopping here. + </p> + <p> + [<i>They bow and exeunt</i>. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Oh, Kuligin, it's awfully hard here for me who've not been used to + it. Everyone seems to look with unfriendly eyes at me, as though I were + not wanted here, as though I were in their way. I don't understand the + ways here. I know this is truly Russia, my own country, but still I can't + get used to it. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. And you never will get used to it, sir. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Why? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. They're a coarse lot, sir, in our town, a coarse lot! Among the + working people, sir, you'll find nothing but brutality and squalid + poverty. And we've no chance, sir, of ever finding our way out of it. For + by honest labour we can never earn more than a crust of bread. And + everyone with money, sir, tries all he can to get a poor man under his + thumb, so as to make more money again out of his working for nothing. Do + you know the answer your uncle, Saviol Prokofitch, made to the provost? + The peasants were always coming to the provost with complaints that your + uncle never paid one of them fairly according to agreement. The provost + said to him at last: "Look here," says he, "Saviol Prokofitch, you must + pay the peasants what's fairly owing to them! Every day they come to me + with some complaint!" Your uncle slapped the provost on the shoulder, and + says he: "It's not worth while, your Worship, for you and me to waste our + breath over such petty details! I have to do with numbers of peasants in + the course of the year; you can understand, if I pay them a paltry + farthing short, every man of them, it mounts up to thousands, and a + capital thing too for me!" Think of that, sir! And the way they treat one + another too, sir! They injure each other's trade all they can, and that + not so much from self-interest, as from envy. They are always at feud with + one another. They entertain in their grand mansions drunken attorneys' + clerks, wretched creatures, sir, that hardly look like human beings. And + they, for a small tip, will cover sheets of stamped paper with malicious + quibbling attacks on their neighbours. And then there's a lawsuit + commences between them, sir, and no end to the worry and fret. They bring + it before the court here, and go off to the chief town, and there everyone + in court is on the look-out for them and they clap their hands with glee + when they see them. Words do not take long, but deeds are not soon done. + They are dragged from court to court, they are worn out with delays; but + they are positively delighted at that; it's just that they want. "I've + lost a lot of money," one will say, "but it's cost him a pretty penny + too!" I did try to put it all into verse.... + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Why, do you make verse? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Yes, sir, in the old-fashioned style. I have read Lomonosov and + Derzhavin. Lomonosov was a deep thinker, an investigator of nature.... And + he was one of us plain working folk too. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. You should write. That would be interesting. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. How could I, sir! They'd tear me to pieces, they'd skin me alive. + Even as it is, sir, I have had to pay for my chattering; but I can't help + it, I love to speak my mind freely. I meant to say something about their + family life, sir, but we'll talk of that some other time. There's plenty + to tell about that too. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Enter Feklusha and another woman</i>. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. De-lightful, my clear, de-lightful! Divinely beautiful! But + what's the use of talking! You live in the Promised Land, simply! And the + merchant gentry are all a devout people, and famed for many a virtue! + liberality and much almsgiving! I am well content, my good soul, full to + the brim of content! For their liberality to us will their abundance be + greatly increased, especially in the house of Kabanova. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Exeunt</i>. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Kabanova? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. A fanatical hypocrite, sir. She gives to the poor, but her own + household she worries to death. (<i>Silence</i>.) All I want, sir, is to + find out the secret of perpetual motion! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Why, what would you do? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. How can you ask, sir! Why, the English offer millions for it. I + should use all the money for public purposes,—we want to provide + work for the working people. Here they have hands to work, and no work to + do. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. And you hope to discover perpetual motion? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Not a doubt, I shall, sir! I have only to scrape up enough money + for models. Good-bye, sir! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Exit</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IV + </h2> + <p> + BORIS (<i>alone</i>). I haven't the heart to disillusion him! What a good + fellow! He dreams and is happy. But I, it seems, must waste my youth in + this wretched hole. I was utterly crushed before, and now this madness + creeping into my mind! So suitable! Me give myself up to tender + sentiments! Trampled upon, broken-spirited, and as if that's not enough, + in my idiocy I must needs fall in love! And of all people in the world! + With a woman, whom I may never have the luck to speak a word to. (<i>Silence</i>.) + But for all that, I can't get her out of my head, try as I will. Here she + is! Coming with her husband, oh! and the mother-in-law with them! Ah, what + a fool I am! I must snatch a look at her round the corner, and then home + again. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Exit. From the opposite side, enter Mme. Kabanova, Kabanov, Katerina + and Varvara</i>.] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE V + </h2> + <h3> + MADAME KABANOVA, KABANOV, KATERINA and VARVARA. + </h3> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. If you care to listen to your mother, you'll do as I have + told you, directly you get there. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. How could I possibly disobey you, mother! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Young folks show little respect to their elders, nowadays. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>to herself</i>). Not respect you, my dear? That's likely! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. I think, mamma, I never depart a hairsbreadth from your will. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. I might believe you, my son, if I hadn't seen with my own + eyes and heard with my own ears how little reverence parents receive + nowadays from children! They might at least remember all the sufferings a + mother has to put up with for her children. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Mamma, I.... + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. If the mother that bore you does at times say a word that + wounds your pride surely you might put up with it! Hey, what do you think? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But, mamma, when have I not put up with anything from you? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. The mother's old, and foolish, to be sure; you young people + must not be too exacting with us old fools. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV (<i>sighs, aside</i>). Oh, merciful Heavens! (<i>To his mother</i>) + We should never dare think such a thing for a moment, mamma! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. It's out of love that parents are severe with you, out of + love they scold even—they're always thinking how to train you in the + right way. To be sure, that's not in favour nowadays. And children go + about among folks proclaiming that their mother's a scold, that their + mother won't let them stir, that she's the plague of their life. And if—Lord + save us—some word of hers doesn't please her daughter-in-law, then + it's the talk all over the place, that the mother-in-law worries her to + death. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. You don't mean that anyone talks about you, mamma? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. I haven't heard so, my son, I haven't; I don't want to tell + a lie about it. If I had, indeed, I shouldn't be talking to you like this, + my dear. (<i>Sighs</i>) Ah, sin is a heavy burden! Sin is never far off! + Something said goes to the heart, and there, one sins, one gets angry. No, + my son, say what you like about me, there's no forbidding anyone to talk; + if they don't dare before one's face, they'll do it behind one's back. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. May my tongue wither up and... + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Hush, hush, don't swear! It's a sin! I've seen plain enough + for a long time past that your wife's dearer to you than your mother. Ever + since you were married, I don't see the same love for me that I did in + you. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. In what way do you see me changed, mamma? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. In everything, my son! When a mother doesn't see a thing + with her eyes, her heart's so sensitive she can feel it with her heart. Or + maybe it's your wife sets you against me, I can't say. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Oh no, mamma! how can you say so, really? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. I look upon you as I would on my own mother, and indeed Tihon + loves you too. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. You might hold your tongue, I should think, till you're + asked a question. You've no need to defend him, young madam, I'm not going + to hurt him, no fear! He's my son too, let me tell you; don't you forget + it! What do you want to fire up and display your feelings before folks + for! That we may see you love your husband? We know that, we know that, + you show off before everyone. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>to herself</i>). A nice place she's pitched on to read us a + sermon! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. You have no need to say that of me, mamma. I am just the same + before people, as I am by myself. I make no show of anything. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. And I'd no intention of speaking about you at all, but it + happened to come up. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Even so, why need you attack me? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. My, what a stuck-up thing she is! Here she's in a huff + directly! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No one likes to put up with unjust blame. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. I know, I know my words are not to your liking, but that + can't be helped. I'm not a stranger to you, it makes my heart grieve to + see you. I've seen for a long time past that you want your own way. Well, + well, you've only to wait a bit, you'll have it all your own way when I'm + dead and gone. Then to be sure you can do as you please, there'll be no + elders then to look after you. And, maybe, you will think of me then. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But we pray God night and day for you, mamma, that God may grant + you health, and every blessing and success in all you do. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Come, give over, please. I daresay you did love your + mother, while you were a bachelor. But you've no thoughts for me now + you've a young wife. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. The one doesn't hinder the other. A wife is something different, + but for my mother I have a reverence quite apart. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Then would you give up your wife rather than your mother? + No, that I'll never believe. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But why should I give up either? I love both. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Oh, I daresay, I daresay, you may talk away! I see plain + enough that I'm a hindrance to you. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. You must think as you please, it's for you to decide in + everything. Only I can't comprehend why I was ever born into the world so + unlucky as not to be able to please you anyhow. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. What do you mean by whimpering like a sick child! A pretty + husband, upon my word! You should just see yourself! Do you suppose your + wife will fear you after that? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Why should she fear me? I'm content, if she loves me. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Why should she fear you! Why should she fear you! What do + you mean? Why, you must be crazy! If she doesn't fear you, she's not + likely to fear me. A pretty state of confusion there would be in the + house! Why, you're living with her in lawful wedlock, aren't you? Or does + the law count for nothing to your thinking? If you do harbour such fools' + notions in your brain, you shouldn't talk so before her anyway, nor before + your sister, that's a girl still. She'll have to be married too; and if + she catches up your silly talk it's her husband will thank us afterwards + for the lessons we've taught her. You see how little sense you've got, and + yet you want to be independent and live as you like. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But indeed, mamma, I don't want to be independent. How ever could + I be independent! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. So, to your thinking then, kindness is all that's needed + with a wife? Mustn't even scold her then, or threaten her? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But, indeed, mamma.... + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA (<i>hotly</i>). Wait till she sets up a lover.... Hey! But I + daresay that's no consequence either, to your thinking? Hey? Come, speak? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But, mercy on us, mamma.... + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA (<i>perfectly coolly</i>). Fool! (<i>Sighs</i>) What's the + use of talking to a fool! it's simply a sin! (<i>Silence</i>) I'm going + home. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. We'll come directly too; we'll only take one or two more turns on + the parade. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Very well; do as you like, only mind you don't keep me + waiting! You know I don't like that. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Oh no, mamma! God forbid! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Mind you don't then! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Goes</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VI + </h2> + <h3> + The Same, except MME. KABANOVA. + </h3> + <p> + KABANOV. There, you see how I always catch it from mamma on your account! + A nice sort of life I lead! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Is it my fault? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. I don't know whose fault it is. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Is it likely you would know? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. She used to keep on at me, "You must get a wife, you must get a + wife, I'm longing to see you a married man." And now she worries my life + out, and gives me no peace—all on your account. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Well, it's not her fault! Mother attacks her, and you too. And + then you say you love your wife. It makes me sick to look at you. (<i>Turns + away</i>.) + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Talk away! What am I to do? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Mind your own business—hold your tongue, if you can't do + anything better. Why do you stand there shilly-shallying? I can see by + your face what's in your mind. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Why, what? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. What?—Why, that you want to go in and have a drink with + Saviol Prokofitch. Eh? isn't that it? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. You've hit it, old girl. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Come back quickly, Tihon dear, or mamma will be scolding again. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Yes, indeed, you must look sharp, or you'll know what to expect. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. I should think I do! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. We've no great desire to get into a row for your sake either. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. I'll fly. Wait for me! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Goes</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VII + </h2> + <h3> + KATERINA and VARVARA. + </h3> + <p> + KATERINA. So you are sorry for me, Varia? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>looking away</i>). Of course, I am. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Then you love me, don't you? (<i>Kisses her warmly.</i>) + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Love you? Of course. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Thank you! you are so sweet, I love you dearly. (<i>Silence</i>) + Do you know what I'm thinking? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. What? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. What a pity people can't fly! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. I don't know what you mean. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. What a pity people can't fly like birds. Do you know I sometimes + fancy I'm a bird. When one stands on a high hill, one feels a longing to + fly. One would take a little run, throw up one's arms, and fly away! + Couldn't we try it now? (<i>Makes as though she would run.</i>) + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. What will you make up next? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>sighs</i>). How I used to love play and frolic! But in your + house I'm growing old and spiritless. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Do you suppose I don't see it? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. How different I used to be! I lived without a care in my heart, + as free as a bird. Mother adored me, dressed me up like a doll, and never + forced me to work; I could do just as I liked. Do you know how I passed my + days as a girl? I'll tell you. I used to get up early; if it was summer I + used to go to the spring, and bathe, and bring back water with me, and + water all the flowers in the house, every one of them. Then mother and I + used to go to church, and all the pilgrim women—our house was simply + full of pilgrims and holy women. We used to come back from church, and sit + down to some work, often embroidery in gold on velvet, while the pilgrim + women would tell us where they had been, what they had seen, and the + different ways of living in the world, or else they would sing songs. And + so the time would pass till dinner. Then the older women lay down for a + nap, while I would run about in the garden. Then evensong, and in the + evening, stories and singing again. Ah, those were happy days! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. But it's pretty much the same with us, if you come to that. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Yes, but here one feels somehow in a cage. And how passionately + I loved being in church! It was like stepping into Paradise, and I saw no + one and had no thought of time and did not hear when the service was over. + It was just as if it were all in one second. Mother used to say that often + everyone looked at me and wondered what had come over me! And you know, on + a sunny day, such a column of light streamed down from the golden cupola, + and a sort of mist moving in the light, like smoke, and at times I seemed + to see angels flying and singing in that bright light. And sometimes, dear + girl, I would get up at night—we had lamps always burning all over + our house,—and fall down in some corner and pray till morning. Or I + would go out into the garden early in the morning, when the sun was just + rising, fall on my knees and pray and weep, and not know myself what I + prayed and wept for; and so they would find me sometimes. And what I was + praying for then, what I besought God for—I couldn't say. I wanted + nothing, I had enough of everything. And what dreams I used to have, dear + Varia, what lovely dreams! Golden temples or gardens of some wonderful + sort, and voices of unseen spirits singing, and the sweet scent of cypress + and mountains and trees, not such as we always see, but as they are + painted in the holy pictures. And sometimes I seemed to be flying, simply + flying in the air. I dream sometimes now, but not often, and never dreams + like those. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Why, what then? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>after a pause</i>). I shall die soon. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. What nonsense! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, I know I shall die. Oh, dear girl, something not good is + happening with me, something strange. It has never been like this with me + before. There is something in me so incomprehensible. As though I were + beginning to live again, or ... I don't know what. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. What is the matter with you? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>taking her hand</i>). I'll tell you, Varia; some dreadful sin + is coming upon me! I have such a terror in my heart, such terror! As + though I am standing on the edge of a precipice and someone is pushing me + in, and I have nothing to cling to. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Clutches her head in her hand.</i>] + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. What's wrong with you? You can't be well. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Yes, I am well.... It would be better if I were ill, it's worse + as it is. A dream keeps creeping into my mind, and I cannot get away from + it. I try to think—I can't collect my thoughts, I try to pray—but + I can't get free by prayer. My lips murmur the words but my heart is far + away; as though the evil one were whispering in my ear, and always of such + wicked things. And such thoughts rise up within me, that I'm ashamed of + myself. What is wrong with me? There's some trouble, something before me! + At night I do not sleep, Varia, a sort of murmur haunts me; someone seems + speaking so tenderly to me, as it were cooing to me like a dove. And now I + never dream, Varia, those old dreams, of trees and mountains in Paradise; + but it's as though someone were clasping me passionately—so + passionately and leading me, and I follow him, I follow. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Well? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. But what things I am saying to you, a young girl like you. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>looking about her</i>). You can tell me! I'm worse than you. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Oh what am I to tell you? I'm ashamed. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. You've no need! Tell away. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. I am stifling, stifling at home, I should like to run away. And + the fancy comes to me that if I were my own mistress, I would float down + the Volga now, in a boat, to the singing of songs, or I would drive right + away clasped close.... + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. But not with your husband. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. How do you know that? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. As if I didn't know! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Ah, Varia, there is sin in my heart! Alas, how often I have + wept, I have done everything I can think of! I can't get free from this + sin. I can't escape. Varia, it is wicked, it is a fearful sin—I love + someone else! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. I'm not likely to be hard upon you! I've sins enough of my own. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. What am I to do? I'm at the end of my strength, where can I find + help. I'm so wretched, I shall do something dreadful. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Mercy on us! what is coming to you! Come, wait a bit, brother's + going away to-morrow, we'll think of something; maybe, you'll be able to + see each other. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, no, that must not be! What are you saying! God forbid! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Why are you frightened? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. If I were once to see and speak with him, I should run away from + home, I would not go back home for anything in the world. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Oh well, wait a little, and then we shall see. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, no, don't talk to me, I don't want to hear! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Why wear yourself out for nothing? You may die of grieving, do + you suppose they'll be sorry for you? Come, wait a bit. Why, what's the + good of making yourself miserable? + </p> + <p> + [<i>Enter the Old Lady with a stick and two footmen in three-cornered hats + behind her.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VIII + </h2> + <h3> + The same and the OLD LADY. + </h3> + <p> + OLD LADY. Hey, my pretty charmers? What are you doing here? Waiting for + young fellows, waiting for your beaus? Are your hearts merry? Merry are + they? Are you pleased and proud of your beauty? That's where beauty leads + to. (<i>Points to the Volga</i>) Yes, yes, to the bottomless pit! (<i>Varvara + smiles.</i>) What, laughing? Let not your heart rejoice! (<i>Knocks with + her stick</i>) You will burn all of you in a fire unquenchable. You will + boil in the lake of flaming pitch. (<i>Going</i>) That is whither beauty + leads you! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Goes.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IX + </h2> + <h3> + KATERINA and VARVARA. + </h3> + <p> + KATERINA. Ah, how she frightened me! I'm trembling all over, as if she + were foretelling something for me. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Her curse fall on her own head, the old witch! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. What was it she said, eh? what did she say? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. It was all rubbish. It's silly to listen to her raving. She + foretells evil like that to everyone. She was a sinner all her life from + her youth up. You should hear the stories they tell about her. So now + she's afraid of death. And she must try and frighten others with what she + dreads herself. Why even the little street boys hide away from her; she + shakes her stick at them and growls (<i>mimicking</i>) "you'll all burn in + fire unquenchable!" + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>shrinking</i>). Ah, ah, stop! I can't bear it! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. There's nothing to be frightened of! An old fool.... + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. I am afraid, terribly afraid! I seem to see her all the while + before us. [<i>Silence.</i> + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>looking round</i>). I say, brother doesn't come, and yonder + there's a storm coming up. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>in terror</i>). A storm! Let us run home! Make haste! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Why, are you crazy? How can you show yourself at home without my + brother? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, let us go home! Never mind him! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. But why are you so awfully frightened? The storm's a long way off + yet. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. If it's so far off, we'll wait then a little, if you like; but + really it would be better to go. Yes, we'd better go home. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. But if anything were to happen, you know, you'd be no safer at + home. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, but still, it's better there, it's quieter; at home one can + turn to the holy pictures and pray to God! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. I didn't know you were so afraid of a thunderstorm. I'm not + afraid, you see. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Don't talk of not being afraid! Everyone must be afraid. What is + dreadful is not it's killing you, but that death may overtake you all of a + sudden, just as you are, with all your sins, with all your erring + thoughts. I have no fear of death, but when I think that I shall be + brought all at once before the face of God just as I am here, with you, + after this talk,—that's what is awful! What I had in my heart! What + wickedness! fearful to think of! (<i>Thunder.</i>) Ah! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Enter Kabanov.</i> + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Here comes my brother. (<i>To Kabanov</i>) Hurry up! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Thunder.</i> + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Ah! Make haste! Make haste! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT II + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE I + </h2> + <h3> + A room in the house of the Kabanovs. + </h3> + <p> + GLASHA (<i>packing up clothes in a bundle</i>). + </p> + <p> + <i>Enter</i> FEKLUSHA. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. Dear girl, always at work! What are you doing, my dear? + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. I'm getting the master's things ready for his journey. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. Is he going away then—the light of our eyes? + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. Yes. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. Is he going to be away long, my dear? + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. No, not long. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. Well, God speed him on his way! And say, will the young mistress + do a wail for his going or not? + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. That I can't say, really. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. But she does wail at times, I suppose? + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. Never heard of her doing it. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. Well now, my dear, if there's one thing I love, it's to hear a + wail well done! (<i>Silence.</i>) And mind you keep a sharp look out, my + girl, on the beggar woman below, that she don't lay her hands on anything. + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. Who's to tell the rights and wrongs of it with you begging + pilgrims, you all speak ill of one another. Why can't you live and let + live? I should have thought you wandering women get plenty in our house + all of you, and yet you must always be quarrelling and nagging at each + other. Aren't you afraid of such sin? + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. One can't be without sin, my good girl; we live in the world. + I'll tell you what, my dear; you, simple folk, are tempted of one devil, + but we pilgrim folk are beset, one with six, another with twelve devils; + and here we have to struggle against all at once. It's a hard fight, my + dear, a hard fight! + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. Why is it you have such a lot? + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. Ah, my good girl, that comes of the hatred the evil one has for + us, because we lead a life of such holiness. But I can't say, my dear, + that I'm one to gossip; that's not a sin of mine. One failing I have, + truly; I know myself what it is. I love dainty eating. Well, well, the + Lord in His mercy provides according to my weakness. + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. And have you travelled far in your wanderings, Feklusha? + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. No, my dear, owing to my weakness, I've never gone far away; but + many a thing I've heard. They do say, my dear, there are countries where + there are no Tsars of the true faith, but Sultans rule the lands. In one + land there is the Sultan Mahnoot the Turk on the throne—and in + another the Sultan Mahnoot the Persian. And they rule, my good girl, over + all men, and whatever they decree it's always unrighteous. And they + cannot, my dear, judge righteously in any one thing, such is the ban laid + upon them. We have a just law, but they, my dear, an unjust law. + Everything that is one way in our land is the very opposite in theirs. And + all the judges with them, in their countries, are unjust too, so that, do + you know, my girl, they even write in their petitions: "judge me, unjust + judge!" And there is a country too where all the men have the heads of + dogs. + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. How do they come to have dogs' heads? + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. For their infidelity. I am going off on my rounds among the + merchant gentry, my dear, to see if there won't be some alms for poverty. + Good-bye for the present! + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. Good-bye! (<i>Exit Feklusha</i>.) Only fancy that there are lands + like that! There's no end to the marvels in the world. And here we sit at + home and know nothing. A good thing it is to be sure, that there are pious + folk; from time to time one hears what is being done in the light of day; + if it weren't for them, we should live and die in our foolishness. + </p> + <p> + <i>Enter Katerina and Varvara</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II + </h2> + <h3> + KATERINA and VARVARA. + </h3> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>to Glasha</i>). Carry the bundles down to the chaise, the + horses are at the door. (<i>To Katerina</i>) You were married off young, + and you never had any fun when you were a girl; and so your heart is + restless still. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Glasha goes out.</i> + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. And it always will be. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Why? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. I have been like that from my birth up, full of fire! I was only + six years old, when do you know what I did? They offended me somehow at + home,—it was in the evening and quite dark—I ran away to the + Volga, and got into a boat, and pushed it off from the bank. They found me + next morning, ten miles down the river. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Really! And were there any men in love with you, as a girl? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Of course there were! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Well? And didn't you care for anyone? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, I only laughed at them. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. And you know, Katia, you don't love Tihon. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Oh, yes, I do! I'm dreadfully sorry for him. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Oh, no, you don't. If you're sorry for him you don't love him. + And indeed you've no great reason to, I must own. And it's no good your + being so close with me! I noticed a long while ago, that you were fond of + some one. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>with dismay</i>). How did you notice it? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. How absurd you are! I'm not a baby! Well, I'll tell you the first + sign I knew by; directly you see him, your whole face is transformed. (<i>Katerina + drops her eyes.</i>) And that's not all.... + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>still looking down</i>). Well, whom then? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Why, you know, what's the use of telling his name? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, tell it! Tell his name! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Boris Grigoritch. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Yes, yes, Varia! Only mind, Varia, for pity's sake.... + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. What nonsense! <i>You'd</i> better mind, and not betray yourself + in any way. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. I can't deceive, I don't know how to conceal anything. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. But there's no doing without deceit; think where you're living! + Our whole house rests on it! I wasn't fond of lying either, but I learnt + the trick, when I had to. I was out walking yesterday, and so I saw him + and had a few minutes talk with him. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>after a short silence, looking down</i>). Well? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. He sent greetings to you. He was sorry, he said, that he never + meets you. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>her head still more bent down</i>). As if we could meet! And + what would be the use.... + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. He is so sad and unhappy.... + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Don't speak to me of him, for goodness' sake, don't speak of + him! I don't want to know him even. I will love my husband: Tisha, my dear + one, no one shall ever take your place! I did not want to think of him, + you tempt me. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. All right, don't think of him; no one compels you to. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. You have no mercy on me! You say: don't think of him, and you + mention him yourself! Do you suppose I want to think of him; but what can + I do, when I can't get him out of my mind? Whatever I try to think, he + seems always standing before my eyes. And I try to be different, and I + can't. Do you know, last night, the evil one tempted me again. I was + almost walking straight out of the house. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. You are such a fantastical creature, God bless you! What I think + is: one should do what one likes, only be sure it's kept dark! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. I don't like that. What good can come of it! I had much better + bear it as long as I can bear it. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. And when you can't bear it, what will you do? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. What shall I do? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Yes, what will you do? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Whatever I long to do, I will do. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Just try; why they'd torment you to death. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. What do I care! I should go away, and that would be the end of + it. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Where would you go? You are a married woman. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Ah, Varia, you don't know me! I pray, of course, it may never + come to that! But if I am too miserable here, they would not keep me by + any force on earth. I should throw myself out of the window, I should + drown myself in the Volga. If I will not to live here, then I would not, + they might cut me to pieces! (<i>Silence.</i>) + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Do you know what, Katia! When Tihon's gone, let's sleep in the + garden, in the summerhouse. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Oh, why, Varia? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Why, isn't it just the same to you? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. I'm timid of sleeping in a place I'm not used to. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Timid, nonsense! Glasha will be with us. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Still one feels nervous, somehow! But perhaps I will. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. I wouldn't have asked you, only mamma wouldn't let me alone, and + I must. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>looking at her</i>). What for? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA.(<i>laughing</i>). We'll tell our fortunes together there. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. You must be joking. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. To be sure, I am joking; did you think I meant it? + </p> + <p> + [<i>Silence</i>. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Where can Tihon be? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Why, do you want him? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, I only wondered, he has to start so soon. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. He's sitting locked up with mamma. She's nagging away at him now. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. What for? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. For nothing at all, teaching him to mind what he's about. He'll + be a fortnight away out of her sight! Only fancy! She has an uneasy + inkling all the time that he'll enjoy himself when he's his own master. + And so she's busy now laying all sorts of injunctions upon him, each more + imperative than the last, and then she'll take him up to the holy picture + and make him swear solemnly that he'll do everything exactly and precisely + according to her bidding. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. And so even when he's free he'll be as good as bound. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Bound! Oh, will he! As soon as he gets away, he'll start + drinking, you may be sure. He says nothing now, but all the while he's + only thinking how to get away as soon as possible. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Enter Mme. Kabanova and Kabanov</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE III + </h2> + <h3> + The Same with KABANOV and MADAME KABANOVA. + </h3> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Now do you remember everything I've told you? Mind you do + remember it! Keep it in your heart! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Yes, mamma. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Well, now everything is ready. The horses are at the door. + You've only to say good-bye and be off in God's name. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Yes, mamma, it's time I was off. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Well? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. What do you desire? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Why are you standing about? Don't you know the way to do + things? Lay your commands upon your wife, exhort her how she is to live in + your absence. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Katerina looks on the ground</i>. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But she knows quite well without that. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. The way you talk! Come, come, give your commands, that I + may hear what commands you lay upon her! And then when you come back, you + can ask if she has performed everything exactly. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV (<i>standing opposite Katerina</i>). Obey mamma, Katia. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Tell her not to be saucy to her mother-in-law. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Don't be saucy! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. To revere her mother-in-law as her own mother. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Revere mamma, Katia, as your own mother. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Not to sit with her hands in her lap like a fine lady. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Do some work while I am away! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Not to go staring out of window! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But, mamma, whenever has she.... + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Come, come! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Don't look out of window! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Not to stare at young fellows while you are away! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But that is too much, mamma, for mercy's sake! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA (<i>severely</i>). Enough of this nonsense! It's your duty + to do what your mother tells you. (<i>With a smile</i>) It's always as + well when it's forbidden. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV (<i>in great confusion</i>). Don't look at young men! [<i>Katerina + looks sternly at him</i>. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Well, now you can talk by yourselves a little, if you want + to. Come, Varvara! [<i>They go out</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IV + </h2> + <h3> + KABANOV and KATERINA (<i>she stands as though turned to stone</i>). + </h3> + <p> + KABANOV. Katia! (<i>Silence</i>.) Katia, you're not angry with me? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>after a protracted silence—shakes her head</i>). No! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But why are you like this? Come, forgive me! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>still in the same position, slightly shaking her head</i>). + Peace be with you! (<i>Hiding her face in her hands</i>) She has hurt me! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. If you take everything to heart so, you'll soon fall into a + decline. Why listen to her! You know she must talk! Well then, let her + talk, and you let it go in at one ear and out at the other. Come, + good-bye, Katia! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>falling on her husband's neck</i>). Tisha, don't go away! For + God's sake, don't go away! Dear one, I implore you! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. I must, Katia. When mamma sends me, how can I not go? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Well, take me with you, do take me! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV (<i>freeing himself from her embrace</i>). But it's impossible! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Oh, why, Tisha, impossible? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Much fun there would be in going with you! You've worried me out + of my life here between you! No sooner have I a hope of escaping than you + want to fasten yourself upon me. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Why, can it be that you are tired of me? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. No, I'm not tired of you; but to get out of this slavery a man + would run away from the loveliest woman in the world! Just consider for a + minute; I may not be good for much; but I'm a man anyway; and living all + my life as you see, one's glad to run away from one's wife even. Why, when + I think now, that for two whole weeks there'll be no storm hanging over + me, no fetters on my legs,—do you suppose I can think of my wife? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. How can I care for you, when you say things like that? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Say things? Why, what things am I to say? God knows what it is + you're afraid of! You won't be alone, you know, you'll be with mamma. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Don't speak of her, don't torture my heart! Ah, how wretched I + am, how wretched! (<i>Weeps</i>.) Where can I go? Whom can I cling to? + Merciful Heavens, I am lost! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Come, be quiet! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>goes up to her husband and draws him to her</i>). Tisha, dear + one, if you would stay, if you would take me with you, how I would love + you, how I would cherish you, my dear one! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. I can't make you out, Katia! Often there's no getting a word out + of you, to say nothing of a kiss, and now you come coaxing up to me of + your own accord. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Tisha, what are you leaving me to? There'll be trouble when + you're away! There'll be trouble! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Now, come, I can't, so it's no use. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Well, here then! Take from me some dreadful vow.... + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. What vow? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. A vow that I will not dare while you're away on any ground + whatever to speak with any outsider, nor see anyone,—that I will not + even dare to think of anyone but you. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But what's this for? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Set my heart at rest, do this for me! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But one can never answer for oneself like that, anything may come + into one's head. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>falling on her knees</i>). May I never look upon my father + nor my mother! May I die impenitent, if I... + </p> + <p> + KABANOV (<i>pulling her up</i>). Hush! Nonsense! What wickedness is this! + I won't hear you! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Voice of Mme. Kabanova heard without, "It's time to start, Tihon!" + Enter Mme. Kabanova, Varvara and Glasha.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE V + </h2> + <h3> + The same. + </h3> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA, VARVARA and GLASHA. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Come, Tihon, it's time now! Set off on your way in God's + name! (<i>sits down</i>). Sit down, all of you! (<i>All sit down. Silence</i>.) + Now, good-bye! (<i>Gets up and all get up</i>.) + </p> + <p> + KABANOV (<i>going up to his mother</i>). Good-bye, mamma! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA (<i>with a wave of her hand points him to the ground</i>). + At my feet! At my feet! (<i>Kabanov bows down to her feet, then kisses his + mother</i>.) Say good-bye to your wife. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Good-bye, Katia! [<i>Katerina falls on his neck</i>. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. What do you want to hang on his neck like that for, + shameless hussy! It's not a lover you're parting from! He's your husband—your + head! Don't you know how to behave? Bow down at his feet! [<i>Katerina + bows down to his feet</i>. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Good-bye, sister (<i>kisses Varvara</i>). Good-bye! Glasha (<i>kisses + Glasha</i>). Good-bye, mamma! (<i>bows down to the ground</i>). + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Good-bye! Long farewells mean foolish tears. [<i>Kabanov + goes out, after him Katerina, Varvara, and Glasha</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VI + </h2> + <h3> + MME. KABANOVA (<i>alone</i>). + </h3> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. The way young folks behave! It makes one laugh really to + see them! If they weren't my own, I could laugh till I split. They don't + know the way to do anything properly. Can't even take leave with decorum. + A lucky thing it is for them that they have elder folk, who will keep + their house together as long as they're living. And yet, the silly fools, + they long to be their own masters, though when they do have their own way, + they get in a mess directly to the scandal and amusement of all worthy + folk. One here and there, to be sure, will be sorry for them, but for the + most part they'll all laugh. No one can help laughing either; they'll + invite guests, and not know how they should sit, and what's more, as + likely as not, they leave out some one of their relations. It's simply + comical. But the old order's passing away. There are some houses one + doesn't care to go into. If you do cross the threshold, all you can do is + to spit, and get away as quick as may be. What will happen when the old + people are dead, how the world will go on, I really can't think. I'm + thankful anyway, that I shall see nothing of it. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Enter Katerina and Varvara.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VII + </h2> + <h3> + MME. KABANOVA, KATERINA, and VARVARA. + </h3> + <p> + You make a boast of loving your husband so much; I see now how much your + love's worth. Any other good wife, on seeing her husband off, would wail + for a good hour and a half, lying on the steps; but one can see you're not + much upset. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. There's no reason to be! Besides, I don't know how to wail. Why + make the people laugh! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. No great art is needed. If you loved him you would have + learnt to do it. If you can't wail properly, you should wail a little, if + only for example. It is always more decorous; or else one sees it is all + words with you. Well, I'm going to pray to God; do not interrupt me. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. I'm going out. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA (<i>caressingly</i>). I've nothing against it! Go and enjoy + yourself till your time comes. You'll have sitting indoors enough later + on! [<i>Exeunt Mme. Kabanova and Varvara.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VIII + </h2> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>alone, dreamily</i>). Well, now, peace reigns in our house! + Ah, the dreariness. If only there were children! That's the saddest thing! + I have no children; I should sit with them and amuse them all day. I love + talking to little children—they are angels, really. (<i>Silence.</i>) + If I had died when I was little, it would have been better. I should have + looked down on to the earth from Heaven and been delighted with + everything. I should have flown unseen wherever I liked. I would have + floated into the country and fluttered from flower to flower, like a + butterfly. (<i>Sinks into a reverie</i>) I know what I will do; I will + begin some piece of work, as an offering to God. I will go to the bazaar, + and buy some stuff and make some clothes to give to the poor. They will + remember me in their prayers. And so I'll sit sewing with Varvara, and we + shall not notice how the time passes; and soon Tisha will be back. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Enter Varvara</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IX + </h2> + <h3> + KATERINA and VARVARA. + </h3> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>putting a kerchief on her head before the looking-glass</i>). + I am just going out for a walk now; Glasha's putting our beds in the + summer house now, mamma's consented to let us sleep there. Mamma always + keeps the little gate in the garden behind the raspberries locked up and + hides the key. I've taken it and put another one in its place for her, so + she won't notice it. Here, see, maybe, it will be wanted (<i>gives the key</i>). + If I see him, I shall tell him to come to the little gate. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>with horror, pushing away the key</i>). What for! what for! + No! no! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. If you don't want it, I do; take it, it won't bite you! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. But what are you plotting, wicked girl? It's impossible! Do you + know what you're doing? It's dreadful, dreadful! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Well, well—Least said is soonest mended; and I've no time + to stay either. It's time for my walk. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Goes.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE X + </h2> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>alone, holding the key in her hand</i>). The things she + thinks of doing! Ah, she's a mad girl, really mad! Here is ruin! Here it + is! Fling it away, fling it far away, drop it into the river, that it may + never be found. It burns the hand like fire. (<i>Musing</i>) This is how + we women come to ruin. How can anyone be happy in bondage? One may be + driven to anything. Many a one is glad if she gets the chance; she flings + herself headlong. But how can they, without thinking, without reflecting! + Easy is the path that leads to misfortune! And then tears and anguish all + your life: your bondage is bitterer than ever. (<i>Silence</i>) But bitter + is a life of bondage, ah, how bitter! Who does not weep in it! Most of + all, we women. Here am I now! I am fretting away my life, and I see no + loophole of light and hope before me! And I never shall see it, that's + certain! It'll be worse as it goes on. And now this wickedness too has + come upon me. (<i>Muses</i>) If it were not for my mother-in-law! ... She + is crushing me.... She has made the house hateful to me.... I loathe the + very walls because of her. (<i>Looks dreamily at the key</i>) Throw it + away? Of course, I must throw it away. And how came it into my hands? For + my temptation, for my undoing. (<i>Listens</i>) Ah, someone is coming. How + my heart is beating! (<i>hides the key in her pocket</i>) No! ... No one! + ... Why was I so frightened? And I have put away the key.... Well, that's + a sign it is to be! Fate itself, it seems, wills it! And where is the sin + if I do look at him just once, from a distance. Even if I speak to him, + still there's no harm in that! But what I said to Tihon ... why, he would + not have it himself. And maybe, such a chance will not come again all my + life long. Then I may well weep to myself—that there was a chance + and I had not sense to seize it. But why talk, why cheat myself? If I die + for it, I must see him. Whom am I trying to deceive.... Throw away the + key! No, for nothing in the whole world! It is mine now.... Come what may, + I will see Boris! Ah, night! come quickly! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT III + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE I + </h2> + <p> + The Street. The gates of the Kabanovs' house, a garden seat before the + gates. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA and FEKLUSHA (<i>sitting on the bench</i>). + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. The end of the world is at hand, ma'am, by every sign and token, + Marfa Ignatievna, the end of the world is at hand. It's peace and paradise + still here in your town, but in other towns it's simply Sodom, ma'am: the + noise, the bustle, the incessant traffic! The people keep running, one one + way, and one another. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. We've no need to hurry, my dear, we live without haste. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. No, ma'am; there is peace and quietness in this town, because + there are many people, you for instance, adorned with virtues, as with + flowers; that's why everything is done decorously and tranquilly. Why, + what is the meaning of all that haste and bustle, ma'am? It is vanity, to + be sure! In Moscow now: the folk run to and fro; there's no knowing for + why. It is all vanity. It is a people, full of vanity, ma'am, and so it + runs to and fro. Each one fancies he's hurrying on business; he hastens, + poor fellow, doesn't recognise people; it seems to him that someone is + beckoning him; but when he gets to the place, sure enough it's empty, + there's nothing there, it's only a dream. And he is downcast and + disappointed. And another one fancies that he's overtaking someone he + knows. Anyone looking on can see in a trice that there's no one; but it + seems to him in his vanity and delusion that he's overtaking someone. + Vanity, to be sure, is like a fog about them. Here among you on a fine + evening like this, it's not often anyone even comes out to sit at his + gate; but in Moscow now there's walking and playing, and a fearful racket + going on in the street; a continual roar. And what's more, Marfa + Ignatievna, ma'am, they've harnessed a fiery serpent to drive: all, look + you, for the sake of more speed. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. I have heard tell of it, my dear. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. But I, ma'am, have seen it with my own eyes; no doubt, others, + in blindness and vanity, see nothing, so it seems a machine to them, but I + saw it doing like this <i>(spreading out her fingers)</i> with its paws. + And a roar, too, that folks of righteous life hear for what it is. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. You can call it anything you like, call it a machine, if + you will; the people is foolish and will believe anything. But as for me + you might load me with gold, I wouldn't drive with such a thing. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. The very idea, ma'am! The Lord preserve us from such a thing. + And let me tell you too, Marfa Ignatievna, ma'am, a vision I had in + Moscow. I went out early in the morning, it was just dawn, and on a high, + very high house, on the roof, I saw someone standing, with a black face. + You understand whom I mean. And he kept moving his hands, as though he + were scattering something, but nothing fell. Then I divined that he was + the enemy sowing tares, and the people in their blindness see it not, and + gather them up. And that is why they run to and fro so, and the women + among them are all so thin, and never get plump and comfortable, but + always look as if they had lost something, or were looking for something, + and that careworn they are, you feel sorry for them. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Anything is possible, my dear, in our times, one can't be + surprised at anything. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. Hard times they are, Marfa Ignatievna, ma'am, very hard. Already + the time has begun diminishing. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. How is that? diminishing, my dear? + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. We, of course—how should we observe it in our blindness + and vanity? but wise people have observed that time has grown shorter with + us. Once the summer and the winter dragged on endlessly, you got tired of + looking for the end of them, but now, before one's time to look about one, + they've flown. The days and the hours still seem the same, of course; but + the time keeps growing shorter and shorter, for our sins. That's what the + learned folk say about it. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. And worse than that will be, my dear. + </p> + <p> + FEKLUSHA. I only trust we shan't live to see it. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Maybe, we shall. [<i>Enter Dikoy.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II + </h2> + <h3> + The Same and DIKOY. + </h3> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. What brings you abroad so late, old friend? + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Why, who's to hinder me being out, I should like to know? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Who wants to hinder you, indeed! + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Well, then what's the use of talking? Whose control am I under, + hey? What next will you say? What the devil.... + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Now then, keep a little check on your tongue! You'd better + look out for someone else to talk to! I won't let you off so easily as + some do! Go your way wherever you're going. Come indoors, Feklusha. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Gets up.</i> + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Wait a bit, old friend, wait a bit! Don't be angry. You're in no + hurry to get home; your home's not many miles away. Here it is! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. If you've come on business, don't shout at me, but speak + out plainly. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. I've no business, but I'm drunk, that's what it is! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Well, would you have me praise you for that, hey? + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Needn't praise or blame. Only I'm drunk, and that's all about it. I + can't get over it till I've slept it off. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Well, go and have a sleep then. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Where am I to go? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Home, of course, where else? + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. But if I don't want to go home. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Why not, allow me to ask you? + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Because I've a row going on there. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Why, who is there to quarrel with? You're the only + quarrelsome one there, you know. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Well, what if I am quarrelsome, hey? What of it, hey? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Oh, nothing. Only there's no great glory in doing battle + all your life with women, that's all. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Well, I suppose they ought to obey me! Or am I to obey them, hey? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. I really wonder at you; with all the crowd of folks in your + house, not a single one can do anything to your liking. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. That's so! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Come, what do you want of me? + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Well, talk me out of my temper. You're the only person in the whole + town who knows how to talk to me. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Go in, Feklusha, and order a little something to be served. + <i>(Feklusha goes.)</i> Let's go indoors. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. No, I'm not going indoors, I'm worse indoors! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. How have they put you into such a rage? + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. I've been so all day since the morning. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. I suppose they've been asking for money. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. As if they were in league together, damn them. One after another + the whole day long they've been at me. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. No doubt you'll have to give it them, or they wouldn't + persist. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. I know that; but what would you have me do, since I've a temper + like that? Why, I know that I must pay, still I can't do it with a good + will. You're a friend of mine, and I've to pay you something, and you come + and ask me for it, I'm bound to swear at you! Pay I will, if pay I must, + but I must swear too. For you've only to hint at money to me, and I feel + hot all over in a minute; red-hot all over, and that's all about it. And + to be sure at such times, I'd swear at anyone for nothing at all. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. You've no one over you, and so you think you can do as you + like. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. No, you hold your tongue! Listen to me! I'll tell you the sort of + troubles that happen to me. I had fasted and all ready for sacrament in + Lent, and then the evil one thrusts a wretched peasant under my nose. He + had come for money,—for wood he had supplied us. And for my sins he + must needs show himself at a time like that! I fell into sin, of course, I + pitched into him, pitched into him finely, I did, all but thrashed him. + There you have it, my temper! Afterwards I asked his pardon, bowed down at + his feet, upon my word I did. It's the truth I'm telling you, I bowed down + at a peasant's feet. That's what my temper brings me to: on the spot + there, in the mud I bowed down at his feet; before everyone, I did. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. But what do you work yourself up into a rage on purpose + for? That's not right, my friend! + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. On purpose? How d'you mean? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. I've seen you, I know all about it. When you see that + people are going to ask you for anything, you go and pick a quarrel + purposely with one of your household, so as to work yourself into a rage. + For you know that when you're in a rage, no one dare come near you. That's + a pretty thing! + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Well, what of it? Who likes parting with his property? + </p> + <p> + [<i>Glasha comes in.</i> + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. Marfa Ignatievna, lunch is served! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Well, old friend, come in! Have a taste of what God has + sent us! + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Much obliged. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Pray walk in. <i>(Ushers Dikoy in front and follows him in. + Glasha, folding her arms, stands at the gates.)</i> + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. If that isn't Boris Grigoritch coming. Sure now he's not after his + uncle? Or may be, just out for a stroll—to be sure, out for a + stroll, he must be. [<i>Enter Boris.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE III + </h2> + <h3> + GLASHA, BORIS, later KULIGIN. + </h3> + <p> + BORIS. Isn't my uncle inside? + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. Yes. Do you want him? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. They sent me from home to find out where he was. But since he's + with you let him stop there; no one wants him. At home they're pleased and + happy that he's out. + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. Our good lady out to marry him, she'd soon make him mind what he's + about. But I mustn't stop here gossiping with you! Good-bye. [<i>Exit.</i> + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Ah, merciful Heavens! For one glimpse of her! I can't go into the + house. No one calls anywhere uninvited in this place. What a life! We are + living in the same town, almost next door; yet we barely see each other + once a week, and then only in church, or in the street,—and that's + all! When a woman's married here she might as well be buried,—it's + all the same. <i>(Silence.)</i> If only I had never seen her; it would + have been better for me! I can only see her by snatches, and before + people,—who are all eyes, staring at one. It's simply heartrending. + And yet there's no mastering oneself. If I go out for a walk, I always + find myself here at the gate. And what use is there in coming here? + There's never any chance of seeing her, and what's more, it may give rise + to gossip and do her harm. Well, it's a fine town, certainly! + </p> + <p> + [<i>He is going, Kuligin comes, meeting him.</i> + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Well, sir? out for a walk? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Yes, it's very pleasant out now. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Very pleasant it is, sir, walking now. The stillness, the sweet + air, the scent of flowers from the far side of the Volga, the clear sky— + </p> + <p> + The space aloft, filled full of stars, Stars numberless, space limitless. + </p> + <p> + Shall we go to the parade, there's not a soul there. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Yes, come along. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN That's our town all over, sir! Here they've made a parade, but + they don't walk there. They only walk out on fête days, and then they only + make a show of being out for a walk. They really come out to show off + their best clothes. You never meet anyone but maybe a drunken attorney's + clerk reeling home from the tavern. The poor have no time, sir, to walk + out; they must work and worry day and night. Three hours' sleep is all + they get out of the twenty-four. But what are the rich about? You'd wonder + why they shouldn't walk about and enjoy the fresh air. But not a bit of + it! They've all had their gates, sir, locked up long ago, and their dogs + let loose. ... Do you suppose they are at work at their business, or + praying to God? No, sir! And it's not for fear of thieves they lock + themselves up; it's that folks shouldn't see the way they ill-treat their + household, and bully their families. And the tears that flow behind those + bolts, unseen, unheard of! But there's no need to tell you that, sir! You + can judge of it for yourself. And the sordid sodden vice within those + barred gates, sir! And all hidden and buried—no one sees or knows + anything of it, God alone beholds it! Stare at me as you like, say they, + in the street and among folk, but you've nothing to do with my family; + that's what I have locks for, and bolts and bars and savage dogs. The + family's something apart, secret! We know all about such secrets!—secrets, + sir, that make one man merry, perhaps, while the rest are weeping and + wailing. Much secrecy about it! Everyone knows! Robbing their orphans, + kinsfolk, nephews, beating their dependents till they're too cowed to hint + at what goes on within doors,—there's no great secret in that! But + that's enough of them! Do you know, sir, who do go for walks here? The + young fellows and girls. They steal an hour or two from sleep and walk out + in couples. There's a couple over there! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Kudriash and Varvara are seen. They kiss.</i> + </p> + <p> + BORIS. They are kissing. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. We don't think much of that. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Kudriash goes off, and Varvara goes towards her own gate and beckons + Boris, he goes up to her.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IV + </h2> + <h3> + BORIS, KULIGIN and VARVARA. + </h3> + <p> + KULIGIN. I'll go to the parade, sir. I'm in your way. I'll wait for you + there. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Very well, I'll come directly. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>hiding her face in her kerchief</i>). Do you know the hollow + behind the Kabanovs' garden? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Yes. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. You come there a little later on. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. What for? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. How stupid you are! Come; then you'll see what for. Well, you'd + better make haste now, since that person's waiting for you. (<i>Boris goes</i>.) + There, he didn't know me! Well, now let him wonder, I know very well that + Katerina won't hold out, she'll run out to see him. [<i>Goes in at the + gate. Curtain</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE V + </h2> + <h3> + The scene changes. + </h3> + <p> + A hollow dell covered with bushes; at the top of it the Kabanovs' garden + and a gate; a path leading down from it. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Kudriash enters with a, guitar</i>.) + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. No one. What is she up to? Well, I'll sit and wait for her. (<i>Seats + himself on a stone</i>) This is slow; I'll sing a song (<i>sings</i>). + </p> + <p> + As the Don Cossack, the Cossack, leads his horse to drink, The brave young + man, he stands at the gate, At the gate he stands, and ponders in his + heart, In his heart he ponders, how he will slay his wife. And the wife, + the wife besought him, Falling down at his swift feet; Master, friend of + my heart, I pray thee, Strike me not, slay me not in the evening! But kill + me, slay me after midnight! Let my little children be asleep, My little + children, and all my good neighbours. [<i>Enter Boris</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VI + </h2> + <h3> + KUDRIASH and BORIS. + </h3> + <p> + KUDRIASH (<i>stops singing</i>). Hullo! Such a sober, staid person as you, + out on the spree too? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Kudriash, is that you? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. It is, Boris Grigoritch. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. What are you here for? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. What for? I suppose because I want to be here, Boris Grigoritch, + since I am here. I shouldn't have come if I hadn't wanted to. Where is + fortune taking you? + </p> + <p> + BORIS (<i>looking carefully at the scene around him</i>). Look here, + Kudriash, I've got to stop here, and I've no doubt it's all the same to + you, so you might go and sit in some other place. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. No, Boris Grigoritch, you're here, I perceive, for the first + time, but this is a place where I have often sat, and this little path has + been trodden by my feet. I like you, sir, and am ready to do you any + service; but you'll kindly refrain from meeting me in this path at night, + lest evil come of it. Fair words are better than gold. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. What is the matter with you, Vania? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Vania, indeed! I know my name's Vania. But you go on your way, + that's all about it. Find a girl to your liking, and walk out with her to + your heart's content, and no one will say a word to you. But don't meddle + with other fellows' girls! That's not the way we do things here, or the + fellows will break your legs for you. For my girl ... Well, I don't know + what I wouldn't do! I'd cut your throat! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. You're angry for no reason; I've not the slightest idea of robbing + you of her. I shouldn't have come here if I hadn't been told to. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Who told you to? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. I couldn't make out, it was dark. A girl stopped me in the street + and said I was to come just here, behind the Kabanovs' garden, where there + is a little path. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Who could that be? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Listen, Kudriash. Could I speak to you openly, you wouldn't gossip? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. You needn't be afraid of that! I'm as safe as the grave. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. I know nothing of your habits and ways of doing things here; but + the fact is ... + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. You're in love. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Yes, Kudriash. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Oh, well, that's all right. We're free enough in that way. The + girls amuse themselves as they like, and the father and mother have + nothing to say to it. It's only the wives are kept shut up. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. That's just what's so sad. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. You don't mean to say you're in love with a married woman? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. She is married, Kudriash. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Ah, Boris Grigoritch, you must drop that! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. It's easy to say drop it! I daresay it's all the same to you, + you'll throw up one and pick up another easily enough! But I can't do like + that! If once I love ... + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. That's as much as to say you're ready to ruin the poor thing + completely, Boris Grigoritch! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. God forbid! God forbid! No, Kudriash, how can you! I ready to ruin + her! I only want to see her, to speak to her, I ask for nothing more. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. You can't answer for yourself like that, sir! And just think + what sort of people you have to deal with here. You know them yourself. + They'd be the death of her, they'd torment her into the grave. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Ah, don't say that, Kudriash, please don't frighten me! + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. But does she care for you? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. I don't know. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Have you ever met then? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. I have only once been in their house with my uncle. And I see her + in church, and pass her sometimes on the parade. Ah, Kudriash, how she + prays, if you could see her! the angelic smile on her face! her face seems + to shed light. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Oh, then it's the young wife of Kabanov. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Yes, Kudriash. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Oh, so that's it! Well, I humbly congratulate you! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. What for? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Well, things look promising for you, since she's sent you word + to come here. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Can it be she sent word? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Why, who else could it be? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. No, you're making fun of me! It can't be so. (<i>Clutches his head</i>.) + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. What's the matter? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. I shall go mad with joy. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. What next! I can't see anything to go mad about! You look out + that you don't make a mess of things and get her into trouble! Her + husband's a fool, we all know, but her mother-in-law is terrible. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Varvara comes out of the gate.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VII + </h2> + <h3> + The Same and VARVARA, afterwards KATERINA. + </h3> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>at the gate, sings</i>). "Beyond the river, the swift river, + My Vania's walking, dear Vania's walking" ... + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH (<i>going on with the song</i>). "Going to the fair." (<i>Whistles.</i>) + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>comes down the path and, hiding her face in her kerchief, goes + up to Boris</i>). You wait a bit, lad. You've something to wait for. (<i>To + Kudriash</i>) Let's go to the Volga. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. Why have you been so long? Kept me waiting again! You know I + don't like it! (<i>Varvara puts one arm round him and they walk away.</i>) + </p> + <p> + BORIS. It's like a dream! This night, and singing and trysts! They're + walking, their arms round each other. It is so new for me, so sweet! Here + I am waiting for something. And what I am waiting for—I know not and + cannot picture to myself; only my heart is throbbing and every nerve is + quivering. I cannot think even what to say to her, I can hardly breathe, + my knees are shaking! My stupid heart is in my mouth, I can't quiet it. + Here she comes. (<i>Katerina slowly comes down the path, wrapt in a large + white kerchief, her eyes fixed on the ground. Silence.</i>) Is it you? + Katerina Petrovna? (<i>Silence.</i>) How can I ever thank you,—I + don't know. (<i>Silence.</i>) If you only knew, Katerina Petrovna, how I + love you! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Tries to take her hand.</i> + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>with terror, but not raising her eyes</i>). Do not touch me, + do not touch me! Alas, alas! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Do not be angry! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Go away from me, go away, unhappy man! Do you know that never by + any prayer can I be free of this sin, never again! Like a stone it will + lie on my soul, like a stone. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Do not send me away! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Why did you come? Why did you come for my undoing? I am a wife, + you know, I must live with my husband, till I lie in the grave.... + </p> + <p> + BORIS. You told me yourself to come ... + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Till the grave; do you understand? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Better if I had never seen you. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>with great emotion</i>). You see what I am preparing for + myself? What is the only place left for me? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Calm yourself. (<i>Takes her hand</i>) Sit down! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Why do you wish for my ruin? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. How can I wish to injure you, when I love you more than anything in + the world, more than myself? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, no! You have been the undoing of me. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Am I such a wicked wretch? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>shaking her head</i>). I am lost, lost, lost! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. God forbid! I'd rather perish myself! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Have I not forsaken my home, and come out to you in the night? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. You came of your own free will. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. I have no will. If I had had any will left of my own, I would + not have come to you. (<i>Lifts her eyes and looks at Boris. A short + silence</i>.) Your will is upon me now, don't you see that? [<i>Sinks on + his neck</i>. + </p> + <p> + BORIS (<i>puts his arms about Katerina</i>). My life! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Ah, if death would come quickly now! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Why die when life is so sweet for us? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, life is not for me! I know it is not for me! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Don't say such things, please, don't torture me. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Yes, you are happy, you are free as the air, but I! ... + </p> + <p> + BORIS. No one shall know of our love. Do you think I have no feeling for + you? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Ah! Why feel for me, it's no one's fault. I have come to this of + myself. Don't think of me! Anyone may know, anyone may see what I do! (<i>Takes + Boris in her arms</i>.) Since I have not feared to do wrong for you, am I + likely to fear the judgment of men? They do say, it will be better for + one, if one has to suffer here on earth for any sin. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Come, why think of that, when we are happy now! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Why, truly! I shall have long years to weep enough hereafter. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. And I was so frightened, I thought you would send me away. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>smiling</i>). Send you away! How could I? Not with my heart. + If you had not come, think I should have gone to you myself. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. I never even guessed you loved me. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. I have loved you for so long. It's as though, for my sins, you + came here to torment me. Directly I saw you I ceased to belong to myself. + From the first moment, I believe, if you had beckoned to me, I would have + followed you; to the ends of the earth I would have followed you, and + never looked back. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Has your husband gone away for long? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. For a fortnight. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. O, then we will be happy! that is a long time. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. We will be happy. And then ... (<i>sinks into dreamy musing</i>). + If they lock me up, that will be my death! And if they don't lock me up, I + will find some way to see you again! [<i>Enter Kudriash and Varvara</i>. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VIII + </h2> + <h3> + The Same, with KUDRIASH and VARVARA. + </h3> + <p> + VARVARA. Well, have you made friends? (<i>Katerina hides her face on + Boris's breast</i>). + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Yes. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. You might go and walk about a bit and let us rest. When it's time + to go in, Vania will shout. (<i>Boris and Katerina go away, Kudriash and + Varvara sit down on the stone</i>.) + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. This is a first-rate plan, getting out at the garden gate. It's + fine and convenient for us. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. It's all my doing. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. There's no one like you for such things. But what if your mother + catches you? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Oh! How could she? It would never enter her head! + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. But if by ill luck, it were to? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Her first sleep is sound; in the early morning now, there is more + chance of her being awake. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. But there's never any knowing! Some evil spirit might rouse her + up. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Well, even then! Our gate into the yard is locked on the inside, + the garden side; she would knock and knock and then go away. And in the + morning we'd declare we'd been sound asleep and heard nothing. Besides, + Glasha's on the lookout; the faintest sound, she'd let us know in a + minute. One can't do anything without some risk! No, indeed! the only + thing is to mind what one's about and not get into a scrape. (<i>Kudriash + strikes a few cords on the guitar. Varvara leans on the shoulder of + Kudriash who plays softly, paying no attention to her. Varvara yawning</i>) + How could we find out what time it is? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. It's one o'clock. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. How do you know? + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. A watchman struck one blow on his board just now. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>yawning</i>). It's late. Shout to them! We'll get out earlier + tomorrow, so as to have longer. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH (<i>gives a whistle and then sings loudly</i>) + </p> + <p> + They're all going home! They're all going home! But I won't go home! + </p> + <p> + BORIS (<i>behind the scenes</i>). I hear! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>gets up</i>). Well, good-bye! (<i>yawns, then gives a cool + kiss to Kudriash, as if he were an old and very intimate friend</i>). + To-morrow mind you come earlier! (<i>Looks in the direction in which Boris + and Katerina went away</i>) You've said good-bye enough, you're not + parting for ever, you'll see each other to-morrow (<i>yawns and stretches, + Katerina hurries in, followed by Boris</i>). + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IX + </h2> + <h3> + KUDRIASH, VARVARA, BORIS and KATERINA. + </h3> + <p> + KATERINA. Come, let us go now, let us go! (<i>They go up the path, + Katerina turns round</i>). Good-bye! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Till to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Yes, to-morrow! Tell me what you dream to-night! + </p> + <p> + [<i>The girls reach the gate</i>. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Yes, yes. + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH (<i>sings and plays guitar</i>) Come out, lassie, while you may + Till the glow of setting day! Ai-lalee, while you may, Till the glow of + setting day! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>at the gate</i>). Aye, my laddie, while I may, Till the glow + of break of day! Ai-lalee, while I may, Till the glow of break of day! + </p> + <p> + KUDRIASH. When the sun has risen fair And I may not linger mair. [<i>Exit + singing.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT IV + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE I + </h2> + <p> + In the foreground a narrow arcade running round an old building which has + begun to fall into decay; bushes and grass about it; in the background the + banks of the Volga and view beyond it. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Several Persons of both Sexes approach the Arcade.</i>) + </p> + <p> + FIRST. It's spotting with rain, seems as though it might be a storm coming + on. + </p> + <p> + SECOND. Look, it's gathering yonder. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. A good thing we've somewhere to take shelter. + </p> + <p> + [<i>They all go under the arches.</i> + </p> + <p> + A WOMAN. What a lot of folks out on the parade, too! To-day being a + holiday, everyone's out walking. The merchants' ladies all pranked out in + their best. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. They'll stand up somewhere out of the rain. + </p> + <p> + SECOND. Look, at the people hurrying this way now! + </p> + <p> + FIRST (<i>staring round at the walls</i>). I say, old fellow, it must have + been covered with paintings once, do you know. One can make them out even + now, here and there. + </p> + <p> + SECOND. To be sure! Of course the walls were covered with paintings. Now + it's all been let go to rack and ruin, and the old place is falling to + pieces. There's been nothing done to it since the fire. But to be sure you + don't remember that fire, it will be forty years ago. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. Whatever's this picture here, old fellow? It's not easy to make out + what it's about. + </p> + <p> + SECOND. That's a picture of the torments of hell. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. Oh! so that's what it is! + </p> + <p> + SECOND. And there's folks of all sorts and conditions going down into the + fire, see? + </p> + <p> + FIRST. To be sure, yes, I understand it now. + </p> + <p> + SECOND. Of every sort and rank. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. And niggers too? + </p> + <p> + SECOND. Yes, niggers too. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. And I say, old fellow, what's this? + </p> + <p> + SECOND. That's the Lithuanian invasion. A battle, d'ye see? Our men + fighting with the men of Lithuania. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. Who were these Lithuanians? + </p> + <p> + SECOND. Can't say. Lithuanians, to be sure. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. But they do say, you know, they fell down on us from heaven. + </p> + <p> + SECOND. I can't tell about that, I daresay they did. + </p> + <p> + A WOMAN. What ignorance! Why, everyone knows the Lithuanians fell from + heaven. Well to be sure! and it was in memory of the battle with them that + these mounds were made. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. There, old fellow! That's so, you see! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Enter Dikoy and Kuligin, his head bare. All the bystanders bow and + assume a respectful air on seeing Dikoy.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II + </h2> + <h3> + The Same, DIKOY and KULIGIN. + </h3> + <p> + DIKOY. Ugh, I'm wet through. (<i>To Kuligin</i>) Get away from me! Let me + alone! (<i>Angrily</i>) Fool of a man! + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Saviol Prokofitch, it would be conferring a benefit, your + worship, on all the residents in the town. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Go along! A mighty benefit! Who wants such a benefit? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. And on you, indeed, your worship, Saviol Prokofitch. To be set + up, for instance, on the parade in the open space. And as for expense,—the + expense would be trifling: a stone column (<i>indicates the size of each + thing by gestures</i>), a copper disc, round like this, and a pivot, an + upright pivot (<i>shows, gesticulating</i>) of the simplest description. I + will put it all up and carve the figures on the face myself too. And, your + worship, when you are pleased to take a walk, or any other people are out + walking, you will go up to it, and see at once what o'clock it is. As it + is, it's a fine position and a fine view and all, but, as it were, it + wants something. And we have visitors too, your worship, who come here to + see our views, and it will always be an ornament,—a pleasant object + for the eye to rest on. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. But why on earth do you come pestering me with every sort of + idiocy? It's possible, don't you see, that I don't want to talk to you. + You ought first to ascertain whether I am disposed to listen to you or + not, you dolt. What am I to you? ... am I your equal, eh? Damn the fellow! + A mighty clever idea he's hit upon! And then up he must come and + straightway start holding forth upon it. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. If I were about my own business, I should be to blame certainly. + But I am speaking in the public interest, your worship. And it's no great + matter spending about a pound on a public object! More than that would not + be needed, sir. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. I daresay you'd like to pocket the money; who knows anything of + you? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Seeing that I want to give my services for nothing, your worship, + how could I pocket anything? And everyone knows me here; no one can say + any harm of me. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. They may know you, for all I care, but I don't want to know you. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Why insult an honest man, sir? + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. Am I to account to you for what I say or do? Let me tell you I + allow no one to criticise my actions—no, not folks of far more + consequence than you. I shall think of you as I choose to think of you. + Others may say you're an honest man, but I look upon you as a brigand, and + that's all about it. You seem anxious to hear my opinion, so here it is! I + say you're a brigand, and nothing else! Do you want to have the law of me, + hey? Very well then, let me tell you you're a worm. If I choose, I spare + you; if I choose, I can trample you under foot! + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. So be it, Saviol Prokofitch! I am only a poor man, sir, it costs + little to be rude to me. But let me remind you, your honour, virtue is + honourable even in rags! + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. None of your insolence now! Mind that! + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. I am not being insolent to you in any way, sir, and I merely + addressed you because I thought you might have a mind to do something for + the town sometime. You have a great deal of power, your worship, if only + you had the wish to do some good. Now, for instance, we've storms so + often, and yet we don't put up lightning conductors. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY (<i>haughtily</i>). It's all vanity! + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. How can it be vanity when experiments have been made. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. What sort of lightning conductors are you talking about? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Steel ones. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY (<i>wrathfully</i>). Well, and what then? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Steel rods. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY (<i>getting more and more furious</i>). I hear they're steel rods, + you viper, but what of it? Granted they're steel rods! Well, what of it? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Nothing. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. And what is the cause of a storm to your notions, hey? Come, speak + up! + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Electricity. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY (<i>stamping</i>). 'Lectricity he says! Ah, a brigand you are and no + mistake! a storm is sent as a chastisement to make us feel our sins, and + you want with rods and tackle of one sort and another, God forgive you, to + ward it off! What, are you a Tartar or what? Are you a Tartar? Speak up! A + Tartar, hey? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Saviol Prokofitch, your honour, Derzhavin said: + </p> + <p> + In body, I languish in the dust, In mind, I command the tempest. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. For such words you ought to be led off to the police captain, he'd + give it to you! Just listen, worthy citizens, what the fellow is saying! + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. There's no help for it, I must submit! But when I have made my + fortune, then you'll see how I'll talk! + </p> + <p> + [<i>With a wave of his hand goes out.</i> + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. What! are you going to steal a fortune? Stop him! The false + scoundrel! How ever is one to treat such people! I don't know. (<i>Turning + to the crowd</i>) And you, damned rascals, you're enough to make anyone + swear! Here I'd no wish to lose my temper, and he must needs go and put me + out, as if it were on purpose. Curse the fellow! (<i>angrily</i>) Has the + rain given over, eh? + </p> + <p> + FIRST. I fancy it has. + </p> + <p> + DIKOY. You fancy! go and see, you fool. Tell me, you fancy, indeed! + </p> + <p> + FIRST (<i>going outside the arches</i>). It has left off! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Dikoy goes out and all follow him. The scene is empty for a little + while. Varvara runs quickly in under the arcade and, hiding herself, peeps + out.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE III + </h2> + <h3> + VARVARA and later BORIS. + </h3> + <p> + VARVARA. I believe it's he! (<i>Boris advances from the background of the + scene</i>.) Sss-sss! (<i>Boris looks round</i>.) Come here. (<i>She + beckons, Boris goes up to her</i>.) What are we to do with Katerina? For + mercy's sake tell me! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Why, what is it? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. It's terrible, that's all. Her husband has come back, do you know + that? We didn't expect him, but he's here. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. No, I didn't know it. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. She's simply beside herself. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. It seems as if I had only lived for these ten short days that he + has been away. And now not to see her! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Oh, I've no patience with you! I've something to tell you! She's + shaking all over, as if she were in a fever. She's so pale, she wanders + about the house, as though she were looking for something. Her eyes are + wild, she's like a mad thing! She began crying long ago in the morning, + she simply sobs. Merciful Heavens, what am I to do with her? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. But perhaps this will pass off. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. I doubt it. She daren't raise her eyes to her husband. Mamma's + begun to notice it, and she follows her about and keeps a suspicious eye + upon her. She looks daggers at her; and that makes her worse than ever. It + makes one wretched to see her. And I'm afraid too. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. What are you afraid of? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. You don't know her. She's a strange creature. One never knows + what to expect from her! She will do things ... + </p> + <p> + BORIS. My God! What's to be done? You must talk to her thoroughly. Can't + you manage to soothe her? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. I've tried. She doesn't even hear. Better leave her alone. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Well, what do you suppose she may do? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Why, simply this: fling herself down at her husband's feet, and + tell him everything. That's what I'm afraid of. + </p> + <p> + BORIS (<i>with horror</i>). Could she possibly! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. She may do anything. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Where is she now? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. At this moment she's out on the parade with her husband, and my + mother's with them too. You go and meet them, if you like. But no, you'd + better not go, or she'll very likely lose her head completely. (<i>A peal + of thunder in the distance</i>) Isn't that thunder? <i>(Looks out)</i> + Yes, it's raining too. And here are people coming this way. Get somewhere + out of sight, and I'll stand here where I can be seen, so that they won't + notice anything. <i>(Enter several persons of both sexes and different + classes.)</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IV + </h2> + <p> + VARVARA and various persons, and later, MME. KABANOVA, KABANOV, KATERINA + and KULIGIN. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. The good lady seems awfully frightened by the way she's hurrying + for shelter. + </p> + <p> + A WOMAN. No use seeking shelter! If it's written in the book of fate, + there's no escaping! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA <i>(running in).</i> Ah, Varvara! <i>(Seizes her hand and holds + it tight.)</i> + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Come, be quiet! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. It will be my death! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Come, come! Pull yourself together! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No! I can't. I can do nothing. My heart aches so. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA <i>(entering).</i> Let me tell you, one should live so as to + be always ready for anything. You would not be in such terror then. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But what sins in special has she to frighten her, mamma? Her sins + are no more than all of us have to repent; being afraid of storms is a + matter of temperament. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. How do you know, pray? The heart of another is darkness. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV <i>(jestingly).</i> Oh well, maybe, something very wicked while I + was away; certainly when I've been here she never did anything bad. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Maybe, when you were away, then. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV <i>(jesting).</i> Katia, my girl, you'd better repent, if you've + been sinful in any way. You can't have secrets from me, you know; no, you + naughty girl, I know all about it. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA <i>(looks him straight in the face).</i> Dear Tihon! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Come, why do you keep teazing her? Can't you see she's not well? + </p> + <p> + [<i>Boris steps out of the crowd and bows to the Kabanovs.</i> + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>shrieks</i>). Ah! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. What are you frightened of? Did you think it was a stranger? This + is a friend! Is your uncle quite well? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Quite, thank you. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>to Varvara</i>). What more does he want of me? ... Isn't it + enough that I am in torture like this. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Leans against Varvara, sobs.</i> + </p> + <p> + VARVARA (<i>aloud, so that her mother should hear</i>). We're simply tired + out, and don't know what to do with her; and now outsiders must come up + too! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Gives Boris a sign and he walks away to the entrance of the arcade.</i> + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN (coming into the middle of the scene and addressing the crowd). + Why, what are you afraid of, I should like to know! every blade of grass, + every flower is rejoicing now, while we try to get away and are as + frightened as if it were a disaster! The storm kill us indeed! It's not a + storm to be dreaded, it's a blessing! Yes, a blessing! Everything's + dreadful to you. If the Northern Lights shine in the heavens—you + ought to admire and marvel at "the dawn breaking in the land of midnight!" + But you are in terror, and imagine it means war or flood. If a comet comes—I + can't take my eyes from it! a thing so beautiful! the stars we have looked + upon to our hearts' content, they are always with us, but that is + something new; well, one must gaze and admire! But you're afraid even to + look at the sky, and all in a tremble! You make a bogey out of everything. + Ah, what a people! I'm not afraid, you see. Come, sir, let's go on! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Yes, let us go! it's more terrible here! [<i>Goes.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE V + </h2> + <h3> + The Same, without BORIS and KULIGIN. + </h3> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Well, that's a pretty sermon he gave us! Something worth + hearing, and no mistake! What have the times come to, when such as he turn + teacher! If an old man talks so, what can we expect from the young ones! + </p> + <p> + A WOMAN. The whole sky's overcast. It's covered up all over, as it were, + with a cap. + </p> + <p> + FIRST. Eh, mate, see how the storm cloud is rolling into a ball, as though + there were something alive turning round in it. And see how it's creeping + up towards us, creeping like a live thing! + </p> + <p> + SECOND. Mark my words, that storm's not coming up for nothing. It's the + truth I tell you; I know. It'll strike someone dead, or set fire to a + house; you'll see, look what an extraordinary colour! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA <i>(listening).</i> What are they saying? They say someone will + be struck dead. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. You know what stuff they talk, any nonsense that comes into their + heads. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Don't you criticise your elders! They know better than you. + Old people have forewarnings of all sorts. Old people don't talk at + random. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA <i>(to her husband).</i> Dear Tihon, I know who will be struck + dead. + </p> + <p> + VARVARA <i>(to Katerina, softly).</i> If only you would hold your tongue! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. How do you know? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. It will strike me. Pray for me, then. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Enter Old Lady with footmen. Katerina with a shriek hides her face.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VI + </h2> + <h3> + The Same and the OLD LADY. + </h3> + <p> + THE OLD LADY. Why hide your face? It's no use hiding! One can see you're + afraid. You've no wish to die! She wants to live! To be sure she does!—look + what a beauty! Ha, ha, ha! Beauty! Better pray to God to take away your + beauty! It's beauty that is our ruin! Ruin to yourself, a snare to others, + so rejoice in your beauty if you will! Many, many, you lead into sin! + Giddy fellows fight duels over you, slash each other with swords for your + sake. And you are glad! Old men, honourable men, forget that they must + die, tempted by beauty! And who has to answer for all. Better go down into + the abyss with your beauty! Yes, quick, quick. <i>(Katerina hides + herself.)</i> Where will you hide away, foolish one! There's no escaping + God! <i>(A clap of thunder.)</i> All of you will burn in fire + unquenchable! [<i>Exit.</i> + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Ah, I am dying! + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. Why do you torture yourself like this! Stand on one side and + pray; you will feel better. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA <i>(goes to the wall and drops on her knees, then jumps up + quickly, seeing the picture on the wall).</i> Ah! Hell! Hell! The fire + unquenchable! <i>(Mme. Kabanova, Kabanov, and Varvara surround her.)</i> + My heart is torn! I can bear it no longer! Mother! Tihon! I have sinned + against God and against you! Did I not swear to you I would not set eyes + on anyone when you were away! You remember! you remember! And do you know + what I have done in my sinfulness? The first night I went out of the + house.... + </p> + <p> + KABANOV <i>(in despair, in tears, pulls at her sleeve).</i> You mustn't, + you mustn't! don't! What are you saying? Mother is here! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA <i>(severely).</i> Come, come, speak, now you have begun. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. And every night the same.... <i>(Sobs, Kabanov tries to embrace + her).</i> + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Let her be! With whom? + </p> + <p> + VARVARA. She's raving, she doesn't know what she is saying. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. You be quiet! So this is the meaning of it! Well, with + whom? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. With Boris Grigoritch. <i>(A clap of thunder.)</i> Ah! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Falls unconscious in her husband's arms.</i> + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Well, son! You see what freedom leads to! I told you so, + but you wouldn't heed me. See what you've brought on yourself! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT V + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE I + </h2> + <h3> + Scene same as Act I. Twilight. + </h3> + <p> + KULIGIN (<i>sitting on a bench</i>). + </p> + <p> + KABANOV (<i>walking along the parade</i>). + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN (<i>sings</i>). "In dark of night are hid the skies In sleep now + all have closed their eyes." + </p> + <p> + (<i>seeing Kabanov</i>) Good-evening, sir, are you walking far? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. No, I am going home. You have heard talk, I expect, about us? The + whole household's upside down. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. I have heard so, sir, yes, I have heard so. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. I went away to Moscow, you know. Mamma sent me off with a sermon, + oh, such a sermon, but as soon as I was well away, I went in for enjoying + myself. I was glad to have escaped into freedom. And I was drinking all + the journey, and in Moscow too I kept it up, and had a jolly time—as + you may fancy! Of course I'd to get in fun enough to last me the whole + year. I never once thought about home. Though, if I had thought of it, I + never should have dreamed of what was going on here. You've heard about + it? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Yes, sir. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. I'm a miserable man now! And so, for nothing, my life's spoiled, + for nothing I have done. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Your mother is terribly hard. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Yes, indeed, she's the cause of it all. And what am I suffering + for, tell me that? Here I've just come from Dikoy's, and well, we drank a + bit; I thought it would drown care; but it has only made me worse, + Kuligin! Ah, the wrong my wife has done me! It couldn't be worse.... + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. It's a difficult business, sir. It's difficult to judge between + you. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. No; nothing could be worse than what she's done! It wouldn't be + much to kill her for it. There's mamma keeps saying: she ought to be + buried alive to punish her! But I love her, I can't bear to lay a finger + on her. I did give her a blow or two, but that was at mamma's bidding. It + makes one wretched to see her, do you understand that, Kuligin. Mamma's + just tormenting her to death, while she wanders about like a shadow, and + makes no resistance. She only weeps, and she's wasting away like wax. It's + simply breaking my heart to see her. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. You must make it up somehow, sir! You ought to forgive her, and + never refer to it again. You are not without sin yourself, I daresay! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. I should think not! + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. And you must never reproach her even when you're drunk! She would + be a good wife to you yet, sir, better than any—believe me. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. But understand me, Kuligin; I'd never say a word, but mamma ... + do you suppose one can get over her!... + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. It's time you were guided, sir, by your own good sense, sir. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. My own good sense! I've got none, I'm told, and so I'm to live by + other people's! I declare I'll drink away whatever sense I have left, and + then mamma can look after me as much as she likes, when I'm crazy. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Ah sir! there's a world of troubles! But, Boris Grigoritch, sir, + what of him? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Oh, he, the scoundrel, is being sent off to Tiahta, to the + Chinese. His uncle's sending him off to a merchant he knows there. He's to + be there three years. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Well, what does he say to it, sir? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Oh, he's wretched too; he weeps. His uncle and I, we set upon him + not long ago, we swore at him—he didn't say a word. He seems like a + wild thing. Do what you like to me, says he, only don't torment her! He's + sorry for her too. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. He's a good fellow, sir. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. He's packed up and ready, and the horses are ordered. He's so + wretched, it's awful! I can see he wants to say good-bye to her. But + that's too much! I can't have it. He's been an enemy to me, you know, + Kuligin! He ought to be thrashed within an inch of his life to teach him + ... + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. We must forgive our enemies, sir! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. You go and tell that to mamma, and see what she'll say to it. So, + brother Kuligin, all our family is now split up and divided. We're not + like relations but enemies to one another. Mamma kept nagging and nagging + at Varvara; she couldn't stand it, and she soon made an end of it—she's + simply gone away. + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. Where has she gone? + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. No one knows. They do say she's run off with Vania Kudriash, and + he can't be found anywhere either. It's all mamma's doing. I'll tell you + frankly, Kuligin: she had started bullying her and locking her up. "Don't + shut me up," she said, "or it will be the worse," and so it has turned + out. What am I to do, tell me that! Tell me how I am to live now! My home + is made loathsome to me, I'm put to shame before everyone, if I set about + anything my hands drop listless and dejected. Here I'm on my way home now. + Shall I find any happiness there, do you suppose? [<i>Enter Glasha.</i> + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. Master, Tihon Ivanitch! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. What is it now? + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. There's something wrong at home, sir! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Mercy on us! It's one thing on top of another! Tell me, what is + it? + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. Why, your good lady.... + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Well, what? Is she dead? + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. No, sir, she has disappeared; we can't find her anywhere. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Kuligin! we must run and search for her. Do you know what I am + afraid of? That she may be driven in her misery to lay hands on herself! + She grieves and grieves,—ah, God! It rends my heart to see her. What + were you thinking of? Has she been gone long? + </p> + <p> + GLASHA. No, sir, not long! It's we're to blame, of course; we didn't keep + an eye on her every minute. Though it's true, to be sure, the most + watchful will be caught napping sooner or later. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Well, don't stand there doing nothing; bestir yourself! <i>(Exit + Glasha.)</i> And let us go too, Kuligin! + </p> + <p> + [<i>They go. The stage is empty for a little while. From the opposite + side, Katerina enters and walks slowly about the stage.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II + </h2> + <h3> + KATERINA alone. + </h3> + <p> + [<i>Throughout the whole monologue and in the following scenes she speaks + slowly and disconnectedly, repeating words dreamily and, as it were, in a + state of forgetfulness.</i> + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, no, nowhere! What is he doing, my poor boy, now? All I want + is to say good-bye to him, and then ... and then death. Why did I lead him + into trouble. It's made it no better for me! I should have suffered alone! + But I have ruined myself, ruined him, brought dishonour on myself,—everlasting + disgrace on him—yes,—dishonour on myself, and on him + everlasting disgrace. (<i>Silence</i>.) If I could remember what it was he + said. How he felt for me? What were the words he said? (<i>Clutches at her + head</i>) I can't remember, I have forgotten everything. The nights, oh, + the nights are a weariness to me! All lie down to sleep, I too lie down; + it is well with all of them, but I lie as in my grave. It is fearful in + the darkness! There is a sound of singing as at some burial; but so soft, + almost out of hearing, far away, far from me.... How one longs for the + light! But I can't bear to get up—the same people again, the same + talk, the same torture. Why do they look at me so? Why is it they don't + kill one nowadays? Why don't they? In old days, they say, they used to + kill women. If they would take me and throw me into the Volga, I would be + glad. "If we kill you," they say, "your sin is taken from you; you must + live, and suffer for your sin." But I have suffered for it already! Am I + to suffer much longer? What have I to live for now, what for? I care for + nothing, nothing is sweet to me, the light of day is not sweet to me! And + still death does not come. One calls upon death and death comes not. + Whatever I look upon, whatever I hear, it is nothing but aching here <i>(touching + her heart).</i> If I could be with him, there might perhaps be still some + joy for me.... Nay, it's all the same, my soul is lost now. How sick I am + with longing for him! If I cannot see thee, hear me at least from far + away! Wild winds, bear my grief and longing to him! My God! I am weary, I + am weary! <i>(goes to the river bank and cries loudly at the top of her + voice)</i> My sweet, my heart, my soul, I love you! Answer! [<i>Falls + a-weeping. Enter Boris.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0044" id="link2H_4_0044"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE III + </h2> + <h3> + KATERINA and BORIS. + </h3> + <p> + BORIS (<i>not seeing Katerina</i>). My God! It's her voice! Where is she? + <i>(Looks round.)</i> + </p> + <p> + KATERINA <i>(runs to him and falls on his neck).</i> At last I see you + again! <i>(Weeps on his bosom. Silence.)</i> + </p> + <p> + BORIS. We are weeping together, God has brought us together. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. You have not forgotten me? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Me forget you? Don't! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Oh no, oh no! You're not angry? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. How could I be angry? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Forgive me, anyway! I did not mean to harm you; but I was not + free myself. I did not know what I was doing, what I was saying. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Oh don't! how can you! how can you! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Well, how is it with you? how are you now? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. I am going away. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Where are you going? + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Far away, Katia, to Siberia. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Take me with you, away from here! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. I cannot, Katia. I am not going of my own free will; my uncle is + sending me, he has the horses waiting for me already; I only begged for a + minute, I wanted to take a last farewell of the spot where we used to see + each other. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Go and God be with you! Don't grieve over me. At first your + heart will be heavy perhaps, poor boy, and then you will begin to forget. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Why talk of me! I am free at least; how about you? what of your + husband's mother? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. She tortures me, she locks me up. She tells everyone and tells + my husband: "don't trust her, she's sly and deceitful." They all follow me + about all day long and laugh at me before my face. At every word they + reproach me with you. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. And your husband? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. One minute he's kind, one minute he's angry, but he's drinking + all the while. He is loathsome to me, loathsome; his kindness is worse + than his blows. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. You are wretched, Katia? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. So wretched, so wretched, that it were better to die! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Who could have dreamed that we should have to suffer such anguish + for our love! I'd better have run away then! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. It was an evil day for me when I saw you. Joy I have known + little of, but of sorrow, of sorrow, how much! And how much is still + before me! But why think of what is to be! I am seeing you now, that they + cannot take away from me; and I care for nothing more. All I wanted was to + see you. Now my heart is much easier; as though a load had been taken off + me. I kept thinking you were angry with me, that you were cursing me.... + </p> + <p> + BORIS. How can you! How can you! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, that's not what I mean; that's not what I wanted to say! I + was sick with longing for you, that's it; and now, I have seen you.... + </p> + <p> + BORIS. They must not come upon us here! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Stay a minute! Stay a minute! Something I meant to say to you! + I've forgotten! Something I had to say! Everything is in confusion in my + head, I can remember nothing. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. It's time I went, Katia! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Wait a minute, a minute! + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Come, what did you want to say? + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. I will tell you directly. <i>(Thinking a moment.)</i> Yes! As + you travel along the highroads, do not miss over one beggar, give to + everyone, and bid them pray for my sinful soul. + </p> + <p> + BORIS. Ah, if these people knew what it is to me to part from you! My God! + God grant they may one day know such bitterness as I know now. Farewell, + Katia! <i>(embraces her and tries to go away).</i> Miscreants! monsters! + Ah, if I were strong! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Stay, stay! Let me look at you for the last time <i>(gazes into + his face).</i> Now all's over with me. The end is come for me. Now, God be + with thee. Go, go quickly! + </p> + <p> + BORIS <i>(moves away a few steps and stands still).</i> Katia, I feel a + dread of something! You have something fearful in your mind? I shall be in + torture as I go, thinking of you. + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. No, no! Go in God's name! (<i>Boris is about to go up to her.</i>) + No, no, enough. + </p> + <p> + BORIS (<i>sobbing</i>). God be with thee! There's only one thing to pray + God for, that she may soon be dead, that she may not be tortured long! + Farewell! + </p> + <p> + KATERINA. Farewell! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Boris goes out. Katerina follows him with her eyes and stands for some + time, lost in thought.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0045" id="link2H_4_0045"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IV + </h2> + <p> + KATERINA (<i>alone</i>). Where am I going now? Home? No, home or the grave—it's + the same. Yes, home or the grave! ... the grave! Better the grave.... A + little grave under a tree ... how sweet.... The sunshine warms it, the + sweet rain falls on it ... in the spring the grass grows on it, soft and + sweet grass ... the birds will fly in the tree and sing, and bring up + their little ones, and flowers will bloom; golden, red and blue ... all + sorts of flowers, (<i>dreamily</i>) all sorts of flowers ... how still! + how sweet! My heart's as it were lighter! But of life I don't want to + think! Live again! No, no, no use ... life is not good! ... And people are + hateful to me, and the house is hateful, and the walls are hateful! I will + not go there! No, no, I will not go! If I go to them, they'll come and + talk, and what do I want with that? Ah, it has grown dark! And there is + singing again somewhere! What are they singing? I can't make out.... To + die now.... What are they singing? It is just the same whether death + comes, or of myself ... but live I cannot! A sin to die so! ... they won't + pray for me! If anyone loves me he will pray ... they will fold my arms + crossed in the grave! Oh yes.... I remember. But when they catch me, and + take me home by force.... Ah, quickly, quickly! <i>(Goes to the river + bank. Aloud)</i> My dear one! My sweet! Farewell! [<i>Exit.</i> + </p> + <p> + [<i>Enter Mme. Kabanova, Kabanov, Kuligin and workmen with torches.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0046" id="link2H_4_0046"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE V + </h2> + <h3> + MME. KABANOVA, KABANOV and KULIGIN. + </h3> + <p> + KULIGIN. They say she was seen here. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Is it certain? + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN. They say they saw her. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Thank God, if she has been seen alive. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. And you in such a fright already and crying over it! + There's no need. She's not worth fretting about! Don't worry yourself, we + shall have our hands full with her for many a long year yet. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Who would have dreamed of her coming here! A place so frequented. + No one would ever think of hiding here. + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. That's just her way! The shameless hussy! She wants to keep + up her character, it seems! + </p> + <p> + [<i>A crowd with torches collects, coming in from different directions.</i> + </p> + <p> + ONE OF THE CROWD. Well, is she found? + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. It seems not. She seems to have vanished into the earth. + </p> + <p> + SEVERAL VOICES. How strange! It's a queer thing. And where could she hide? + </p> + <p> + ONE OF THE CROWD. Oh, she'll be found! + </p> + <p> + A SECOND. Of course she'll be found! + </p> + <p> + A THIRD. To be sure, she'll come back of herself. + </p> + <p> + [<i>A voice behind the scene: "Hi, boat there!"</i> + </p> + <p> + KULIGIN <i>(from the bank).</i> Who's calling? What is it? + </p> + <p> + [<i>The voice: "A woman's thrown herself into the water!" Kuligin and + several men after him run out.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0047" id="link2H_4_0047"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VI + </h2> + <h3> + MME. KABANOVA, and KABANOV and Crowd. + </h3> + <p> + KABANOV. Merciful Heavens, it is she! <i>(tries to run off. Mme. Kabanova + holds his arm)</i> Mamma, let me go! I will save her! or I too ... What + can I do without her! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. I'm not going to let you go, and don't you suppose it! Kill + yourself on her account; she's worth that, isn't she? As if she'd not + brought disgrace enough on us already, to plot to do a thing like this + too! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Let me go! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. There are plenty to help without you. I'll curse you if you + go. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV <i>(falling on his knees).</i> Oh, to look upon her at least! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. They'll pull her out—you'll look upon her, right + enough. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV (<i>gets up. To the crowd</i>). Well, my lads, do you see + anything? + </p> + <p> + ONE OF THE CROWD. It's dark down below, there's nothing in sight. + </p> + <p> + [<i>A noise behind the scene.</i> + </p> + <p> + A SECOND. They seemed to be shouting something, but I couldn't make out + what. + </p> + <p> + THE FIRST. That's Kuligin's voice. + </p> + <p> + THE SECOND. They're coming along the bank with torches. + </p> + <p> + THE FIRST. They're coming this way, and they're carrying her. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Several people come back.</i> + </p> + <p> + ONE OF THOSE WHO HAVE COME BACK. That Kuligin's a brave fellow! It was + close here in a deep pool, near the bank; with the torchlight we could see + a long way off in the water; he saw her dress and pulled her out. + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Alive? + </p> + <p> + THE MAN. How could she be alive? She had thrown herself from the height; + the bank is steep there, and she must have fallen upon the anchor, she was + so injured, poor thing! But she looks as though she were alive! Only one + little wound on the temple, and one single stain of blood on it. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Kabanov runs across the scene, meets Kuligin with the crowd, carrying + in Katerina.</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0048" id="link2H_4_0048"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VII + </h2> + <h3> + The Same and KULIGIN. + </h3> + <p> + KULIGIN. Here is your Katerina. You may do what you like with her. Her + body is here, take it; but her soul is not yours now; she is before a + Judge more merciful than you are, now! + </p> + <p> + [<i>Lays her on the ground and exit.</i> + </p> + <p> + KABANOV <i>(rushes to Katerina).</i> Katia! Katia! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Hush! It's a sin even to weep for her! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. Mother, you have murdered her! you! you! you! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. What do you mean? Think what you're saying! You forget whom + you're speaking to! + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. You have murdered her! you! you! + </p> + <p> + MME. KABANOVA. Come, I'll talk to you at home. (<i>Bows low to the + assembled people</i>) I thank you, good people, for your services! [<i>All + bow low.</i> + </p> + <p> + KABANOV. It is well with you, Katia! But why am I left to live and suffer! + [<i>Falls on his wife's body.</i> + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Storm, by Aleksandr Nicolaevich Ostrovsky + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORM *** + +***** This file should be named 7991-h.htm or 7991-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/9/9/7991/ + +Produced by Eric Eldred, S.R.Ellison and the DP Proofreading Team + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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