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!

MME. KABANOVA. Young folks show little respect to their elders, nowadays.

VARVARA (to herself). Not respect you, my dear? That's likely!

KABANOV. I think, mamma, I never depart a hairsbreadth from your will.

MME. KABANOVA. I might believe you, my son, if I hadn't seen with my own eyes and heard with my own ears how little reverence parents receive nowadays from children! They might at least remember all the sufferings a mother has to put up with for her children.

KABANOV. Mamma, I....

MME. KABANOVA. If the mother that bore you does at times say a word that wounds your pride surely you might put up with it! Hey, what do you think?

KABANOV. But, mamma, when have I not put up with anything from you?

MME. KABANOVA. The mother's old, and foolish, to be sure; you young people must not be too exacting with us old fools.

KABANOV (sighs, aside). Oh, merciful Heavens! (To his mother) We should never dare think such a thing for a moment, mamma!

MME. KABANOVA. It's out of love that parents are severe with you, out of love they scold even—they're always thinking how to train you in the right way. To be sure, that's not in favour nowadays. And children go about among folks proclaiming that their mother's a scold, that their mother won't let them stir, that she's the plague of their life. And if—Lord save us—some word of hers doesn't please her daughter-in-law, then it's the talk all over the place, that the mother-in-law worries her to death.

KABANOV. You don't mean that anyone talks about you, mamma?

MME. KABANOVA. I haven't heard so, my son, I haven't; I don't want to tell a lie about it. If I had, indeed, I shouldn't be talking to you like this, my dear. (Sighs) Ah, sin is a heavy burden! Sin is never far off! Something said goes to the heart, and there, one sins, one gets angry. No, my son, say what you like about me, there's no forbidding anyone to talk; if they don't dare before one's face, they'll do it behind one's back.

KABANOV. May my tongue wither up and...

MME. KABANOVA. Hush, hush, don't swear! It's a sin! I've seen plain enough for a long time past that your wife's dearer to you than your mother. Ever since you were married, I don't see the same love for me that I did in you.

KABANOV. In what way do you see me changed, mamma?

MME. KABANOVA. In everything, my son! When a mother doesn't see a thing with her eyes, her heart's so sensitive she can feel it with her heart. Or maybe it's your wife sets you against me, I can't say.

KABANOV. Oh no, mamma! how can you say so, really?

KATERINA. I look upon you as I would on my own mother, and indeed Tihon loves you too.

MME. KABANOVA. You might hold your tongue, I should think, till you're asked a question. You've no need to defend him, young madam, I'm not going to hurt him, no fear! He's my son too, let me tell you; don't you forget it! What do you want to fire up and display your feelings before folks for! That we may see you love your husband? We know that, we know that, you show off before everyone.

VARVARA (to herself). A nice place she's pitched on to read us a sermon!

KATERINA. You have no need to say that of me, mamma. I am just the same before people, as I am by myself. I make no show of anything.

MME. KABANOVA. And I'd no intention of speaking about you at all, but it happened to come up.

KATERINA. Even so, why need you attack me?

MME. KABANOVA. My, what a stuck-up thing she is! Here she's in a huff directly!

KATERINA. No one likes to put up with unjust blame.

MME. KABANOVA. I know, I know my words are not to your liking, but that can't be helped. I'm not a stranger to you, it makes my heart grieve to see you. I've seen for a long time past that you want your own way. Well, well, you've only to wait a bit, you'll have it all your own way when I'm dead and gone. Then to be sure you can do as you please, there'll be no elders then to look after you. And, maybe, you will think of me then.

KABANOV. But we pray God night and day for you, mamma, that God may grant you health, and every blessing and success in all you do.

MME. KABANOVA. Come, give over, please. I daresay you did love your mother, while you were a bachelor. But you've no thoughts for me now you've a young wife.

KABANOV. The one doesn't hinder the other. A wife is something different, but for my mother I have a reverence quite apart.

MME. KABANOVA. Then would you give up your wife rather than your mother? No, that I'll never believe.

KABANOV. But why should I give up either? I love both.

MME. KABANOVA. Oh, I daresay, I daresay, you may talk away! I see plain enough that I'm a hindrance to you.

KABANOV. You must think as you please, it's for you to decide in everything. Only I can't comprehend why I was ever born into the world so unlucky as not to be able to please you anyhow.

MME. KABANOVA. What do you mean by whimpering like a sick child! A pretty husband, upon my word! You should just see yourself! Do you suppose your wife will fear you after that?

KABANOV. Why should she fear me? I'm content, if she loves me.

MME. KABANOVA. Why should she fear you! Why should she fear you! What do you mean? Why, you must be crazy! If she doesn't fear you, she's not likely to fear me. A pretty state of confusion there would be in the house! Why, you're living with her in lawful wedlock, aren't you? Or does the law count for nothing to your thinking? If you do harbour such fools' notions in your brain, you shouldn't talk so before her anyway, nor before your sister, that's a girl still. She'll have to be married too; and if she catches up your silly talk it's her husband will thank us afterwards for the lessons we've taught her. You see how little sense you've got, and yet you want to be independent and live as you like.

KABANOV. But indeed, mamma, I don't want to be independent. How ever could I be independent!

MME. KABANOVA. So, to your thinking then, kindness is all that's needed with a wife? Mustn't even scold her then, or threaten her?

KABANOV. But, indeed, mamma....

MME. KABANOVA (hotly). Wait till she sets up a lover.... Hey! But I daresay that's no consequence either, to your thinking? Hey? Come, speak?

KABANOV. But, mercy on us, mamma....

MME. KABANOVA (perfectly coolly). Fool! (Sighs) What's the use of talking to a fool! it's simply a sin! (Silence) I'm going home.

KABANOV. We'll come directly too; we'll only take one or two more turns on the parade.

MME. KABANOVA. Very well; do as you like, only mind you don't keep me waiting! You know I don't like that.

KABANOV. Oh no, mamma! God forbid!

MME. KABANOVA. Mind you don't then!

[Goes.