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Near Moscow: Whitney Houston in the Soviet army The front page mainstream grief about the death of stars always makes me ask...
Caucasian holiday? The mountains catch your eye wherever you are in the Caucasus. Even when you...
Extremely obscure, very authentic, unbelievably Bulgakov-ish… At the hour of the hot spring sunset, two citizens appeared at Patriarch's...
The street. The gates of the Kabanovs' house, a garden seat before the gates.
MME. KABANOVA and FEKLUSHA (sitting on the bench).
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.
MME. KABANOVA: We've no need to hurry, my dear, we live without haste.
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.
MME. KABANOVA: I have heard tell of it, my dear.
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 (spreading out her fingers) with its paws. And a roar, too, that folks of righteous life hear for what it is.
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.
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.
MME. KABANOVA: Anything is possible, my dear, in our times, one can't be surprised at anything.
FEKLUSHA: Hard times they are, Marfa Ignatievna, ma'am, very hard. Already the time has begun diminishing.
MME. KABANOVA: How is that? diminishing, my dear?
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.
MME. KABANOVA: And worse than that will be, my dear.
FEKLUSHA: I only trust we shan't live to see it.
MME. KABANOVA: Maybe, we shall. Enter Dikoy.
The same and DIKOY.
MME. KABANOVA: What brings you abroad so late, old friend?
DIKOY: Why, who's to hinder me being out, I should like to know?
MME. KABANOVA: Who wants to hinder you, indeed!
DIKOY: Well, then what's the use of talking? Whose control am I under, hey? What next will you say? What the devil…
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.
Gets up.
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!
MME. KABANOVA: If you've come on business, don't shout at me, but speak out plainly.
DIKOY: I've no business, but I'm drunk, that's what it is!
MME. KABANOVA: Well, would you have me praise you for that, hey?
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.
MME. KABANOVA: Well, go and have a sleep then.
DIKOY: Where am I to go?
MME. KABANOVA: Home, of course, where else?
DIKOY: But if I don't want to go home.
MME. KABANOVA: Why not, allow me to ask you?
DIKOY: Because I've a row going on there.
MME. KABANOVA: Why, who is there to quarrel with? You're the only quarrelsome one there, you know.
DIKOY: Well, what if I am quarrelsome, hey? What of it, hey?
MME. KABANOVA: Oh, nothing. Only there's no great glory in doing battle all your life with women, that's all.
DIKOY: Well, I suppose they ought to obey me! Or am I to obey them, hey?
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.
DIKOY: That's so!
MME. KABANOVA: Come, what do you want of me?
DIKOY: Well, talk me out of my temper. You're the only person in the whole town who knows how to talk to me.
MME. KABANOVA: Go in, Feklusha, and order a little something to be served. (FEKLUSHA goes). Let's go indoors.
DIKOY: No, I'm not going indoors, I'm worse indoors!
MME. KABANOVA: How have they put you into such a rage?
DIKOY: I've been so all day since the morning.
MME. KABANOVA: I suppose they've been asking for money.
DIKOY: As if they were in league together, damn them. One after another the whole day long they've been at me.
MME. KABANOVA: No doubt you'll have to give it them, or they wouldn't persist.
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.
MME. KABANOVA: You've no one over you, and so you think you can do as you like.
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.
MME. KABANOVA: But what do you work yourself up into a rage on purpose for? That's not right, my friend!
DIKOY: On purpose? How d'you mean?
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!
DIKOY: Well, what of it? Who likes parting with his property?
GLASHA comes in.
GLASHA: Marfa Ignatievna, lunch is served!
MME. KABANOVA: Well, old friend, come in! Have a taste of what God has sent us!
DIKOY: Much obliged.
MME. KABANOVA: Pray walk in. (Ushers Dikoy in front and follows him in. Glasha, folding her arms, stands at the gates).
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. Enter Boris.
GLASHA, BORIS, later KULIGIN.
BORIS: Isn't my uncle inside?
GLASHA: Yes. Do you want him?
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.
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. Exit.
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. (Silence). 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!
He is going, Kuligin comes, meeting him.
KULIGIN: Well, sir? out for a walk?
BORIS: Yes, it's very pleasant out now.
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 –
“The space aloft, filled full of stars,
Stars numberless, space limitless”.
Shall we go to the parade, there's not a soul there.
BORIS: Yes, come along.
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 fete 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!
KUDRIASH and VARVARA are seen. They kiss.
BORIS: They are kissing.
KULIGIN: We don't think much of that.
Kudriash goes off, and Varvara goes towards her own gate and beckons Boris, he goes up to her.
BORIS, KULIGIN and VARVARA.
KULIGIN: I'll go to the parade, sir. I'm in your way. I'll wait for you there.
BORIS: Very well, I'll come directly.
VARVARA (hiding her face in her kerchief). Do you know the hollow behind the Kabanovs' garden?
BORIS: Yes.
VARVARA: You come there a little later on.
BORIS: What for?
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. (Boris goes). 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. Goes in at the gate. Curtain.
The scene changes.
A hollow dell covered with bushes; at the top of it the Kabanovs' garden and a gate; a path leading down from it.
(Kudriash enters with a, guitar).
KUDRIASH: No one. What is she up to? Well, I'll sit and wait for her. (Seats himself on a stone) This is slow; I'll sing a song (sings).
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. Enter Boris.
KUDRIASH and BORIS.
KUDRIASH (stops singing). Hullo! Such a sober, staid person as you, out on the spree too?
BORIS: Kudriash, is that you?
KUDRIASH: It is, Boris Grigoritch.
BORIS: What are you here for?
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?
BORIS (looking carefully at the scene around him). 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.
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.
BORIS: What is the matter with you, Vania?
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!
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.
KUDRIASH: Who told you to?
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.
KUDRIASH: Who could that be?
BORIS: Listen, Kudriash. Could I speak to you openly, you wouldn't gossip?
KUDRIASH: You needn't be afraid of that! I'm as safe as the grave.
BORIS: I know nothing of your habits and ways of doing things here; but the fact is…
KUDRIASH: You're in love.
BORIS: Yes, Kudriash.
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.
BORIS: That's just what's so sad.
KUDRIASH: You don't mean to say you're in love with a married woman?
BORIS: She is married, Kudriash.
KUDRIASH: Ah, Boris Grigoritch, you must drop that!
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…
KUDRIASH: That's as much as to say you're ready to ruin the poor thing completely, Boris Grigoritch!
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.
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.
BORIS: Ah, don't say that, Kudriash, please don't frighten me!
KUDRIASH: But does she care for you?
BORIS: I don't know.
KUDRIASH: Have you ever met then?
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.
KUDRIASH: Oh, then it's the young wife of Kabanov.
BORIS: Yes, Kudriash.
KUDRIASH: Oh, so that's it! Well, I humbly congratulate you!
BORIS: What for?
KUDRIASH: Well, things look promising for you, since she's sent you word to come here.
BORIS: Can it be she sent word?
KUDRIASH: Why, who else could it be?
BORIS: No, you're making fun of me! It can't be so. (Clutches his head).
KUDRIASH: What's the matter?
BORIS: I shall go mad with joy.
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.
Varvara comes out of the gate.
The same and VARVARA, afterwards KATERINA.
VARVARA (at the gate, sings):
“Beyond the river, the swift river,
My Vania's walking, dear Vania's walking…”
KUDRIASH (going on with the song): “Going to the fair”. (Whistles).
VARVARA (comes down the path and, hiding her face in her kerchief, goes up to Boris): You wait a bit, lad. You've something to wait for. (To Kudriash) Let's go to the Volga.
KUDRIASH: Why have you been so long? Kept me waiting again! You know I don't like it! (Varvara puts one arm round him and they walk away.)
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. (Katerina slowly comes down the path, wrapt in a large white kerchief, her eyes fixed on the ground. Silence). Is it you? Katerina Petrovna? (Silence.) How can I ever thank you, – I don't know. (Silence.) If you only knew, Katerina Petrovna, how I love you!
Tries to take her hand.
KATERINA (with terror, but not raising her eyes). Do not touch me, do not touch me! Alas, alas!
BORIS: Do not be angry!
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.
BORIS: Do not send me away!
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…
BORIS: You told me yourself to come…
KATERINA: Till the grave; do you understand?
BORIS: Better if I had never seen you.
KATERINA (with great emotion). You see what I am preparing for myself? What is the only place left for me?
BORIS: Calm yourself. (Takes her hand) Sit down!
KATERINA: Why do you wish for my ruin?
BORIS: How can I wish to injure you, when I love you more than anything in the world, more than myself?
KATERINA: No, no! You have been the undoing of me.
BORIS: Am I such a wicked wretch?
KATERINA (shaking her head). I am lost, lost, lost!
BORIS: God forbid! I'd rather perish myself!
KATERINA: Have I not forsaken my home, and come out to you in the night?
BORIS: You came of your own free will.
KATERINA: I have no will. If I had had any will left of my own, I would not have come to you. (Lifts her eyes and looks at Boris. A short silence). Your will is upon me now, don't you see that? Sinks on his neck.
BORIS (puts his arms about Katerina). My life!
KATERINA: Ah, if death would come quickly now!
BORIS: Why die when life is so sweet for us?
KATERINA: No, life is not for me! I know it is not for me!
BORIS: Don't say such things, please, don't torture me.
KATERINA: Yes, you are happy, you are free as the air, but I!…
BORIS: No one shall know of our love. Do you think I have no feeling for you?
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! (Takes Boris in her arms). 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.
BORIS: Come, why think of that, when we are happy now!
KATERINA: Why, truly! I shall have long years to weep enough hereafter.
BORIS: And I was so frightened, I thought you would send me away.
KATERINA (smiling). Send you away! How could I? Not with my heart. If you had not come, think I should have gone to you myself.
BORIS: I never even guessed you loved me.
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.
BORIS: Has your husband gone away for long?
KATERINA: For a fortnight.
BORIS: O, then we will be happy! that is a long time.
KATERINA: We will be happy. And then… (sinks into dreamy musing). 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! Enter KUDRIASH and VARVARA.
The same, with KUDRIASH and VARVARA.
VARVARA: Well, have you made friends? (Katerina hides her face on Boris's breast).
BORIS: Yes.
VARVARA: You might go and walk about a bit and let us rest. When it's time to go in, Vania will shout. (BORIS and KATERINA go away, KUDRIASH and VARVARA sit down on the stone).
KUDRIASH: This is a first-rate plan, getting out at the garden gate. It's fine and convenient for us.
VARVARA: It's all my doing.
KUDRIASH: There's no one like you for such things. But what if your mother catches you?
VARVARA: Oh! How could she? It would never enter her head!
KUDRIASH: But if by ill luck, it were to?
VARVARA: Her first sleep is sound; in the early morning now, there is more chance of her being awake.
KUDRIASH: But there's never any knowing! Some evil spirit might rouse her up.
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. (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) How could we find out what time it is?
KUDRIASH: It's one o'clock.
VARVARA: How do you know?
KUDRIASH: A watchman struck one blow on his board just now.
VARVARA (yawning). It's late. Shout to them! We'll get out earlier tomorrow, so as to have longer.
KUDRIASH (gives a whistle and then sings loudly): They're all going home!
They're all going home!
But I won't go home!
BORIS (behind the scenes). I hear!
VARVARA (gets up). Well, good-bye! (yawns, then gives a cool kiss to Kudriash, as if he were an old and very intimate friend). To-morrow mind you come earlier! (Looks in the direction in which Boris and Katerina went away) You've said good-bye enough, you're not parting for ever, you'll see each other to-morrow (yawns and stretches, Katerina hurries in, followed by Boris).
KUDRIASH, VARVARA, BORIS and KATERINA.
KATERINA: Come, let us go now, let us go! (They go up the path, KATERINA turns round). Good-bye!
BORIS: Till to-morrow.
KATERINA: Yes, to-morrow! Tell me what you dream to-night!
The girls reach the gate.
BORIS: Yes, yes.
KUDRIASH (sings and plays guitar):
Come out, lassie, while you may
Till the glow of setting day!
Ai-lalee, while you may,
Till the glow of setting day!
VARVARA (at the gate):
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!
KUDRIASH:
When the sun has risen fair
And I may not linger mair.
Exit singing.
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. Several PERSONS of both Sexes approach the Arcade.
FIRST: It's spotting with rain, seems as though it might be a storm coming on.
SECOND: Look, it's gathering yonder.
FIRST: A good thing we've somewhere to take shelter.
They all go under the arches.
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.
FIRST: They'll stand up somewhere out of the rain.
SECOND: Look, at the people hurrying this way now!
FIRST (staring round at the walls): 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.
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.
FIRST: Whatever's this picture here, old fellow? It's not easy to make out what it's about.
SECOND: That's a picture of the torments of hell.
FIRST: Oh! so that's what it is!
SECOND: And there's folks of all sorts and conditions going down into the fire, see?
FIRST: To be sure, yes, I understand it now.
SECOND: Of every sort and rank.
FIRST: And niggers too?
SECOND: Yes, niggers too.
FIRST: And I say, old fellow, what's this?
SECOND: That's the Lithuanian invasion. A battle, d'ye see? Our men fighting with the men of Lithuania.
FIRST: Who were these Lithuanians?
SECOND: Can't say. Lithuanians, to be sure.
FIRST: But they do say, you know, they fell down on us from heaven.
SECOND: I can't tell about that, I daresay they did.
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.
FIRST: There, old fellow! That's so, you see!
Enter DIKOY and KULIGIN, his head bare. All the bystanders bow and assume a respectful air on seeing DIKOY .
The same, DIKOY and KULIGIN.
DIKOY: Ugh, I'm wet through. (To Kuligin) Get away from me! Let me alone! (Angrily) Fool of a man!
KULIGIN: Saviol Prokofitch, it would be conferring a benefit, your worship, on all the residents in the town.
DIKOY: Go along! A mighty benefit! Who wants such a benefit?
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 (indicates the size of each thing by gestures), a copper disc, round like this, and a pivot, an upright pivot (shows, gesticulating) 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.
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.
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.
DIKOY: I daresay you'd like to pocket the money; who knows anything of you?
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.
DIKOY: They may know you, for all I care, but I don't want to know you.
KULIGIN: Why insult an honest man, sir?
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!
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!
DIKOY: None of your insolence now! Mind that!
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.
DIKOY (haughtily): It's all vanity!
KULIGIN: How can it be vanity when experiments have been made.
DIKOY: What sort of lightning conductors are you talking about?
KULIGIN: Steel ones.
DIKOY (wrathfully): Well, and what then?
KULIGIN: Steel rods.
DIKOY (getting more and more furious): I hear they're steel rods, you viper, but what of it? Granted they're steel rods! Well, what of it?
KULIGIN: Nothing.
DIKOY: And what is the cause of a storm to your notions, hey? Come, speak up!
KULIGIN: Electricity.
DIKOY (stamping): ‘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 Tatar or what? Are you a Tatar? Speak up! A Tatar, hey?
KULIGIN: Saviol Prokofitch, your honour, Derzhavin said:
“In body, I languish in the dust,
In mind, I command the tempest.
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!
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!
With a wave of his hand goes out.
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. (Turning to the crowd) 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! (angrily) Has the rain given over, eh?
FIRST: I fancy it has.
DIKOY: You fancy! go and see, you fool. Tell me, you fancy, indeed!
FIRST (going outside the arches): It has left off!
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.
VARVARA and later BORIS.
VARVARA: I believe it's he! (BORIS advances from the background of the scene). Sss-sss! (BORIS looks round). Come here. (She beckons, Boris goes up to her). What are we to do with Katerina? For mercy's sake tell me!
BORIS: Why, what is it?
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.
BORIS: No, I didn't know it.
VARVARA: She's simply beside herself.
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!
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?
BORIS: But perhaps this will pass off.
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.
BORIS: What are you afraid of?
VARVARA: You don't know her. She's a strange creature. One never knows what to expect from her! She will do things…
BORIS: My God! What's to be done? You must talk to her thoroughly. Can't you manage to soothe her?
VARVARA: I've tried. She doesn't even hear. Better leave her alone.
BORIS: Well, what do you suppose she may do?
VARVARA: Why, simply this: fling herself down at her husband's feet, and tell him everything. That's what I'm afraid of.
BORIS (with horror): Could she possibly!
VARVARA: She may do anything.
BORIS: Where is she now?
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. (A peal of thunder in the distance) Isn't that thunder? (Looks out) 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. (Enter several PERSONS of both sexes and different classes).
VARVARA and various persons, and later, MME. KABANOVA, KABANOV, KATERINA and KULIGIN.
FIRST: The good lady seems awfully frightened by the way she's hurrying for shelter.
A WOMAN: No use seeking shelter! If it's written in the book of fate, there's no escaping!
KATERINA (running in): Ah, Varvara! (Seizes her hand and holds it tight).
VARVARA: Come, be quiet!
KATERINA: It will be my death!
VARVARA: Come, come! Pull yourself together!
KATERINA: No! I can't. I can do nothing. My heart aches so.
MME. KABANOVA (entering): Let me tell you, one should live so as to be always ready for anything. You would not be in such terror then.
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.
MME. KABANOVA: How do you know, pray? The heart of another is darkness.
KABANOV (jestingly): Oh well, maybe, something very wicked while I was away; certainly when I've been here she never did anything bad.
MME. KABANOVA: Maybe, when you were away, then.
KABANOV (jesting): 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.
KATERINA (looks him straight in the face): Dear Tihon!
VARVARA: Come, why do you keep teazing her? Can't you see she's not well?
BORIS steps out of the crowd and bows to the KABANOVS.
KATERINA(shrieks): Ah!
KABANOV: What are you frightened of? Did you think it was a stranger? This is a friend! Is your uncle quite well?
BORIS: Quite, thank you.
KATERINA (to Varvara): What more does he want of me?… Isn't it enough that I am in torture like this.
Leans against Varvara, sobs.
VARVARA (aloud, so that her mother should hear): We're simply tired out, and don't know what to do with her; and now outsiders must come up too!
Gives BORIS a sign and he walks away to the entrance of the arcade.
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!
BORIS: Yes, let us go! it's more terrible here! Goes.
The same, without BORIS and KULIGIN.
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!
A WOMAN: The whole sky's overcast. It's covered up all over, as it were, with a cap.
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!
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!
KATERINA (listening): What are they saying? They say someone will be struck dead.
KABANOV: You know what stuff they talk, any nonsense that comes into their heads.
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.
KATERINA (to her husband): Dear Tihon, I know who will be struck dead.
VARVARA (to Katerina, softly): If only you would hold your tongue!
KABANOV: How do you know?
KATERINA: It will strike me. Pray for me, then.
Enter OLD LADY with FOOTMEN. KATERINA with a shriek hides her face.
The same and the OLD LADY.
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. (Katerina hides herself). Where will you hide away, foolish one! There's no escaping God! (A clap of thunder). All of you will burn in fire unquenchable! Exit.
KATERINA: Ah, I am dying!
VARVARA: Why do you torture yourself like this! Stand on one side and pray; you will feel better.
KATERINA (goes to the wall and drops on her knees, then jumps up quickly, seeing the picture on the wall): Ah! Hell! Hell! The fire unquenchable! (MME. KABANOVA, KABANOV, and VARVARA surround her). 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…
KABANOV (in despair, in tears, pulls at her sleeve): You mustn't, you mustn't! don't! What are you saying? Mother is here!
MME. KABANOVA (severely): Come, come, speak, now you have begun.
KATERINA: And every night the same… (Sobs, Kabanov tries to embrace her).
MME. KABANOVA: Let her be! With whom?
VARVARA: She's raving, she doesn't know what she is saying.
MME. KABANOVA: You be quiet! So this is the meaning of it! Well, with whom?
KATERINA: With Boris Grigoritch. (A clap of thunder). Ah!
Falls unconscious in her husband's arms.
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!
Scene same as Act I. Twilight. KULIGIN (sitting on a bench); KABANOV walking along the parade).
KULIGIN (sings):
”In dark of night are hid the skies
In sleep now all have closed their eyes."
(seeing Kabanov) Good-evening, sir, are you walking far?
KABANOV: No, I am going home. You have heard talk, I expect, about us? The whole household's upside down.
KULIGIN: I have heard so, sir, yes, I have heard so.
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?
KULIGIN: Yes, sir.
KABANOV: I'm a miserable man now! And so, for nothing, my life's spoiled, for nothing I have done.
KULIGIN: Your mother is terribly hard.
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…
KULIGIN: It's a difficult business, sir. It's difficult to judge between you.
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.
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!
KABANOV: I should think not!
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.
KABANOV: But understand me, Kuligin; I'd never say a word, but mamma… do you suppose one can get over her!..
KULIGIN: It's time you were guided, sir, by your own good sense, sir.
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.
KULIGIN: Ah sir! there's a world of troubles! But, Boris Grigoritch, sir, what of him?
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.
KULIGIN: Well, what does he say to it, sir?
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.
KULIGIN: He's a good fellow, sir.
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…
KULIGIN: We must forgive our enemies, sir!
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.
KULIGIN: Where has she gone?
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? Enter GLASHA.
GLASHA: Master, Tihon Ivanitch!
KABANOV: What is it now?
GLASHA: There's something wrong at home, sir!
KABANOV: Mercy on us! It's one thing on top of another! Tell me, what is it?
GLASHA: Why, your good lady…
KABANOV: Well, what? Is she dead?
GLASHA: No, sir, she has disappeared; we can't find her anywhere.
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?
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.
KABANOV: Well, don't stand there doing nothing; bestir yourself! (Exit GLASHA). And let us go too, Kuligin!
They go. The stage is empty for a little while. From the opposite side, Katerina enters and walks slowly about the stage.
KATERINA alone. 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.
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. (Silence). If I could remember what it was he said. How he felt for me? What were the words he said? (Clutches at her head) 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 (touching her heart). 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! (goes to the river bank and cries loudly at the top of her voice) My sweet, my heart, my soul, I love you! Answer! Falls a-weeping. Enter Boris.
KATERINA and BORIS.
BORIS (not seeing Katerina): My God! It's her voice! Where is she? (Looks round).
KATERINA (runs to him and falls on his neck): At last I see you again! (Weeps on his bosom. Silence).
BORIS: We are weeping together, God has brought us together.
KATERINA: You have not forgotten me?
BORIS: Me forget you? Don't!
KATERINA: Oh no, oh no! You're not angry?
BORIS: How could I be angry?
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.
BORIS: Oh don't! how can you! how can you!
KATERINA: Well, how is it with you? how are you now?
BORIS: I am going away.
KATERINA: Where are you going?
BORIS: Far away, Katia, to Siberia.
KATERINA: Take me with you, away from here!
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.
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.
BORIS: Why talk of me! I am free at least; how about you? what of your husband's mother?
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.
BORIS: And your husband?
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.
BORIS: You are wretched, Katia?
KATERINA: So wretched, so wretched, that it were better to die!
BORIS: Who could have dreamed that we should have to suffer such anguish for our love! I'd better have run away then!
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…
BORIS: How can you! How can you!
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…
BORIS: They must not come upon us here!
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.
BORIS: It's time I went, Katia!
KATERINA: Wait a minute, a minute!
BORIS: Come, what did you want to say?
KATERINA: I will tell you directly. (Thinking a moment) Yes! As you travel along the highroads, do not miss over one beggar, give to everyone, and bid them pray for my sinful soul.
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! (embraces her and tries to go away). Miscreants! monsters! Ah, if I were strong!
KATERINA: Stay, stay! Let me look at you for the last time (gazes into his face). Now all's over with me. The end is come for me. Now, God be with thee. Go, go quickly!
BORIS (moves away a few steps and stands still): 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.
KATERINA: No, no! Go in God's name! (Boris is about to go up to her). No, no, enough.
BORIS (sobbing): 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!
KATERINA: Farewell!
BORIS goes out. KATERINA follows him with her eyes and stands for some time, lost in thought.
KATERINA (alone): 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, (dreamily) 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! (Goes to the river bank. Aloud) My dear one! My sweet! Farewell! Exit.
MME. KABANOVA, KABANOV, KULIGIN and WORKMEN WITH torches.
MME. KABANOVA, KABANOV and KULIGIN.
KULIGIN: They say she was seen here.
KABANOV: Is it certain?
KULIGIN: They say they saw her.
KABANOV: Thank God, if she has been seen alive.
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.
KABANOV: Who would have dreamed of her coming here! A place so frequented. No one would ever think of hiding here.
MME. KABANOVA: That's just her way! The shameless hussy! She wants to keep up her character, it seems!
A CROWD with torches collects, coming in from different directions.
ONE OF THE CROWD: Well, is she found?
MME. KABANOVA: It seems not. She seems to have vanished into the earth.
SEVERAL VOICES: How strange! It's a queer thing. And where could she hide?
ONE OF THE CROWD: Oh, she'll be found!
A SECOND: Of course she'll be found!
A THIRD: To be sure, she'll come back of herself.
A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENE: Hi, boat there!
KULIGIN (from the bank): Who's calling? What is it?
THE VOICE: A woman's thrown herself into the water! Kuligin and several men after him run out.
MME. KABANOVA, and KABANOV and CROWD.
KABANOV: Merciful Heavens, it is she! (tries to run off. Mme. Kabanova holds his arm) Mamma, let me go! I will save her! or I too… What can I do without her!
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!
KABANOV: Let me go!
MME. KABANOVA: There are plenty to help without you. I'll curse you if you go.
KABANOV (falling on his knees): Oh, to look upon her at least!
MME. KABANOVA: They'll pull her out – you'll look upon her, right enough.
KABANOV (gets up. To the crowd): Well, my lads, do you see anything?
ONE OF THE CROWD: It's dark down below, there's nothing in sight.
A noise behind the scene.
A SECOND: They seemed to be shouting something, but I couldn't make out what.
THE FIRST: That's Kuligin's voice.
THE SECOND: They're coming along the bank with torches.
THE FIRST: They're coming this way, and they're carrying her.
Several people come back.
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.
KABANOV: Alive?
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.
KABANOV runs across the scene, meets KULIGIN with the crowd, carrying in KATERINA.
The same and KULIGIN.
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!
Lays her on the ground and exit.
KABANOV (rushes to Katerina): Katia! Katia!
MME. KABANOVA: Hush! It's a sin even to weep for her!
KABANOV: Mother, you have murdered her! You! You! You!
MME. KABANOVA: What do you mean? Think what you're saying! You forget whom you're speaking to!
KABANOV: You have murdered her! You! You!
MME. KABANOVA: Come, I'll talk to you at home. (Bows low to the assembled people) I thank you, good people, for your services! All bow low.
KABANOV: It is well with you, Katia! But why am I left to live and suffer! Falls on his wife's body.