(_walking in the square_)
_Kulígin_ (_singing_).
“In darkness shrouded are the skies,-- To rest themselves all close their eyes.”
(_noticing Kabanóv_). Good-evening, sir! Which way are you bound?
_Kabanóv._ Home. Good friend, have you heard what has happened with us? Our whole family is upset.
_Kulígin._ Yes, I have heard so, sir.
_Kabanóv._ I have been away to Moscow, you know. Mamma kept giving me all kinds of instructions for my journey, but no sooner I got away, than I began having a good time. I was so happy to be free. I drank all the way up, and I kept on drinking in Moscow. I just went on a spree to last me for a whole year! Not even once did I stop to think of home, and if I did, I never should have dreamed what has happened here. You have heard about it?
_Kulígin._ Yes, I have, sir.
_Kabanóv._ My friend, I am a miserable man now! I am ruined just for nothing, for no cause at all.
_Kulígin._ Your mother is rather harsh.
_Kabanóv._ That ’s so. She is the cause of it all. Do tell me, why should I suffer for it? I just stopped at Dikóy’s,--well, we took a drink together; I thought it might make me feel easier, but no, Kulígin, it ’s worse! See, how my wife has treated me! It could not be worse----
_Kulígin._ It ’s a mixed-up affair, sir. It is hard to judge between you.
_Kabanóv._ No, don’t say that. What can there be worse? It is not enough to kill her for that. Mamma says she ought be buried alive for a punishment! But I love her, and it makes me feel bad to lay a finger upon her. I did give her some blows, but mamma told me to do so. You must understand, Kulígin, that I feel sorry for her. Mamma torments her to death, and she walks around like a shadow and does not say a word. She does nothing but weep, and she is melting away like wax. And I worry myself to death, as I look at her.
_Kulígin._ Could you not, sir, make up with her? You ought to forgive her, and never mention the affair again. I suppose you yourself are not without sin!
_Kabanóv._ Of course not!
_Kulígin._ Only you must not reproach her when you are drunk! She would make you a good wife, sir, I am sure, better than any other.
_Kabanóv._ Don’t you see, Kulígin, it is all right with me, but mamma--there is no getting along with her!----
_Kulígin._ It is time, sir, to live by your own wits.
_Kabanóv._ Well, what am I to do,--to tear myself to pieces? They say, I have no sense of my own, and so I have to live by other people’s sense. I tell you, I ’ll drink away whatever little sense I have left, let mamma then bother with me as with a senseless fool.
_Kulígin._ It is bad, sir! Well, and Borís Grigórevich, what about him?
_Kabanóv._ They are sending that scoundrel to Kyákhta, into China. His uncle is sending him to the office of a merchant whom he knows there. He is going there for three years.
_Kulígin._ Well, what does he do, sir?
_Kabanóv._ He is suffering, too: he weeps. We fell upon him, his uncle and I, and we kept scolding him, but he did not say a word. He acts like a wild man. “Do with me what you please,” says he, “only do not torment her!” He is pitying her too.
_Kulígin._ He is a good man, sir.
_Kabanóv._ He is ready for the journey, and the horses are waiting. He is pining for her dreadfully. He wants to say good-bye to her, I see. What do I care? He has done enough harm. He is my enemy, you know, Kulígin! He ought to be quartered, so that he might know----
_Kulígin._ We must forgive our enemies, sir!
_Kabanóv._ Go and talk to mamma about that, and see what she will tell you. Yes, friend Kulígin, all our family is now broken up. They are acting not like relatives to each other, but like enemies. Mamma has been nagging Várvara so long; she could stand it no longer, and so she just got up, and ran away.
_Kulígin._ Where has she gone?
_Kabanóv._ Who knows? They say she has run away with Vánka Kudryásh, and he can’t be found anywhere either. Now, Kulígin, I must tell you that is all mamma’s doing: she has been tormenting her, and locking her up. “Don’t lock me up,” she said, “or it will be only worse!” And just so it has happened. Do tell me, what I am to do now! Do instruct me how to live now! I loathe the house, I am ashamed to meet people, and if I try to work, my hands drop helpless. Here I am going home, but it is not to find pleasure there. (_Enter Glásha._)
_Glásha._ Tíkhon Iványch!
_Kabanóv._ What is it now?
_Glásha._ Things have gone wrong at home, sir!
_Kabanóv._ Lord! There has been enough trouble! Speak, what is it?
_Glásha._ Your good wife----
_Kabanóv._ Well, what? Is she dead?
_Glásha._ No, sir, she has gone off, and we can’t find her anywhere. We have run our legs off, trying to find her.
_Kabanóv._ Kulígin! We must look for her. Do you know, friend, what I am afraid of? That in her wretchedness she may lay hands upon herself! It is just terrible, how she is grieving! It makes my heart burst to look at her. (_To Glásha._) That is the way you have watched her. Is it long she has been gone?
_Glásha._ Not very long, sir! It is our fault, we did not watch her better. However, one can’t be watching every minute.
_Kabanóv._ Well, what are you standing for? Go, run! (_Exit Glásha._) Let us go, too, Kulígin! (_Exeunt. The stage is empty for a little while. From the opposite side enters Katerína, and slowly walks across the stage._)