The Storm by Garnett, Constance, 1861-1946, Ostrovsky, Aleksandr Nicolaevich, 1823-1886

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._

SCENE II

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.

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.