It so happens that Katerína’s husband has to leave his town for a fortnight. Katerína, in the meantime, who has met occasionally on the promenade a young man, Borís, a nephew of Dikóy, and has received some attention from him, partly driven to it by her husband’s sister--a very flighty girl, who is wont to steal from the back garden to meet her sweethearts--has during these few days one or two interviews with the young man, and falls in love with him. Borís is the first man who, since her marriage, has treated her with respect; he himself suffers from the oppression of Dikóy, and she feels half-sympathy, half-love towards him. But Borís is also of weak, irresolute character, and as soon as his uncle Dikóy orders him to leave the town he obeys and has only the usual words of regret that “circumstances” so soon separate him from Katerína. The husband returns, and when he, his wife, and the old mother Kabanóva are caught by a terrific thunderstorm on the promenade along the Vólga, Katerína, in mortal fear of sudden death, tells in the presence of the crowd which has taken refuge in a shelter on the promenade what has happened during her husband’s absence. The consequences will best be learned from the following scene, which I quote from the same translation. It also takes place on the high bank of the Vólga. After having wandered for some time in the dusk on the solitary bank, Katerína at last perceives Borís and runs up to him. _Katerína_: At last I see you again! (_Weeps on his breast. Silence._) _Borís_: Well, God has granted us to weep together. _Katerína_: You have not forgotten me? _Borís_: How can you speak of forgetting? _Katerína_: Oh, no, it was not that, not that! You are not angry? _Borís_: Angry for what? _Katerína_: Forgive me! I did not mean to do you any harm. I was not free myself. I did not know what I said, what I did. _Borís_: Don’t speak of it! Don’t. _Katerína_: Well, how is it with you? What are you going to do? _Borís_: I am going away. _Katerína_: Where are you going? _Borís_: Far away, Kátya, to Siberia. _Katerína_: Take me with you, away from here. _Borís_: I cannot, Kátya. I am not going of my free will; my uncle is sending me, he has the horses waiting for me already; I only begged for a minute, I wanted to take a last farewell of the spot where we used to see each other. _Katerína_: Go, and God be with you! Don’t grieve over me. At first your heart will be heavy, perhaps, poor boy, but then you will begin to forget. _Borís_: Why talk of me! I am free at least; how about you? what of your husband’s mother? _Katerína_: She tortures me, she locks me up. She tells everyone, even my husband: “Don’t trust her, she is sly and deceitful.” They all follow me about all day long, and laugh at me before my face. At every word they reproach me with you. _Borís_: And your husband?