KATERINA (alone, holding the key in her hand). 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. (Musing) 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. (Silence) 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. (Muses) 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. (Looks dreamily at the key) Throw it away? Of course, I must throw it away. And how came it into my hands? For my temptation, for my undoing. (Listens) Ah, someone is coming. How my heart is beating! (hides the key in her pocket) 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!
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.
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.
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 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!
[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.
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.
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 (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.
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.
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).
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.
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 Tartar or what? Are you a Tartar? Speak up! A Tartar, 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.