The Storm

unfriendly eyes at me, as though I were not wanted here, as though I were in their way. I don't understand the ways here. I know this is truly Russia, my own country, but still I can't get used to it.

KULIGIN.

And you never will get used to it, sir.

BORIS.

Why?

KULIGIN. They're a coarse lot, sir, in our town, a coarse lot! Among the working people, sir, you'll find nothing but brutality and squalid poverty. And we've no chance, sir, of ever finding our way out of it. For by honest labour we can never earn more than a crust of bread. And everyone with money, sir, tries all he can to get a poor man under his thumb, so as to make more money again out of his working for nothing. Do you know the answer your uncle, Saviol Prokofitch, made to the provost? The peasants were always coming to the provost with complaints that your uncle never paid one of them fairly according to agreement. The provost said to him at last: 'Look here,' says he, 'Saviol Prokofitch, you must pay the peasants what's fairly owing to them! Every day they come to me with some complaint!' Your uncle slapped the provost on the shoulder, and says he: 'It's not worth while, your Worship, for you and me to waste our breath over such petty details! I have to do with numbers of peasants in the course of the year; you can understand, if I pay them a paltry farthing short, every man of them, it mounts up to thousands, and a capital thing too for me!' Think of that, sir! And the way they treat one another too, sir! They injure each other's trade all they can, and that not so much from self-interest, as from envy. They are always at feud with one another. They entertain in their grand mansions drunken attorneys' clerks, wretched creatures, sir, that hardly look like human beings. And they, for a small tip, will cover sheets of stamped paper with malicious quibbling attacks on their neighbours. And then there's a lawsuit commences between them, sir, and no end to the worry and fret. They bring it before the court here, and go off to the chief town, and there everyone in court is on the look-out for them and they clap their hands with glee when they see them. Words do not take long, but deeds are not soon done. They are dragged from court to court, they are worn out with delays; but they are positively delighted at that; it's just that they want. 'I've lost a lot of money,' one will say, 'but it's cost him a pretty penny too!' I did try to put it all into verse….

BORIS.

Why, do you make verse?

KULIGIN.

Yes, sir, in the old-fashioned style. I have read Lomonosov and Derzhavin.

Lomonosov was a deep thinker, an investigator of nature…. And he was

one of us plain working folk too.

BORIS.

You should write. That would be interesting.

KULIGIN. How could I, sir! They'd tear me to pieces, they'd skin me alive. Even as it is, sir, I have had to pay for my chattering; but I can't help it, I love to speak my mind freely. I meant to say something about their family life, sir, but we'll talk of that some other time. There's plenty to tell about that too.

[Enter Feklusha and another woman.

FEKLUSHA. De-lightful, my clear, de-lightful! Divinely beautiful! But what's the use of talking! You live in the Promised Land, simply! And the merchant gentry are all a devout people, and famed for many a virtue! liberality and much almsgiving! I am well content, my good soul, full to the brim of content! For their liberality to us will their abundance be greatly increased, especially in the house of Kabanova.

[Exeunt.

BORIS.

Kabanova?

KULIGIN. A fanatical hypocrite, sir. She gives to the poor, but her own household she worries to death. (Silence.) All I want, sir, is to find out the secret of perpetual motion!

BORIS.

Why, what would you do?

KULIGIN. How can you ask, sir! Why, the English offer millions for it. I should use all the money for public purposes,—we want to provide work for the working people. Here they have hands to work, and no work to do.

BORIS.

And you hope to discover perpetual motion?

KULIGIN. Not a doubt, I shall, sir! I have only to scrape up enough money for models. Good-bye, sir!

[Exit.

SCENE IV

BORIS (alone). I haven't the heart to disillusion him! What a good fellow! He dreams and is happy. But I, it seems, must waste my youth in this wretched hole. I was utterly crushed before, and now this madness creeping into my mind! So suitable! Me give myself up to tender sentiments! Trampled upon, broken-spirited, and as if that's not enough, in my idiocy I must needs fall in love! And of all people in the world! With a woman, whom I may never have the luck to speak a word to. (Silence.) But for all that, I can't get her out of my head, try as I will. Here she is! Coming with her husband, oh! and the mother-in-law with them! Ah, what a fool I am! I must snatch a look at her round the corner, and then home again.

[Exit. From the opposite side, enter Mme. Kabanova, Kabanov, Katerina and Varvara.]

SCENE V

MADAME KABANOVA, KABANOV, KATERINA and VARVARA.

MME. KABANOVA. If you care to listen to your mother, you'll do as I have told you, directly you get there.

KABANOV.

How could I possibly disobey you, mother!