KATERINA. Why, can it be that you are tired of me?
KABANOV. No, I'm not tired of you; but to get out of this slavery a man would run away from the loveliest woman in the world! Just consider for a minute; I may not be good for much; but I'm a man anyway; and living all my life as you see, one's glad to run away from one's wife even. Why, when I think now, that for two whole weeks there'll be no storm hanging over me, no fetters on my legs,—do you suppose I can think of my wife?
KATERINA. How can I care for you, when you say things like that?
KABANOV. Say things? Why, what things am I to say? God knows what it is you're afraid of! You won't be alone, you know, you'll be with mamma.
KATERINA. Don't speak of her, don't torture my heart! Ah, how wretched I am, how wretched! (Weeps.) Where can I go? Whom can I cling to? Merciful Heavens, I am lost!
KABANOV. Come, be quiet!
KATERINA (goes up to her husband and draws him to her). Tisha, dear one, if you would stay, if you would take me with you, how I would love you, how I would cherish you, my dear one!
KABANOV. I can't make you out, Katia! Often there's no getting a word out of you, to say nothing of a kiss, and now you come coaxing up to me of your own accord.
KATERINA. Tisha, what are you leaving me to? There'll be trouble when you're away! There'll be trouble!
KABANOV. Now, come, I can't, so it's no use.