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



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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._

SCENE V

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!