Russia -- Social conditions -- 1801-1917 -- Drama; Russian drama -- Translations into English
KATERINA.
How different I used to be! I lived without a care in my heart, as free as
a bird. Mother adored me, dressed me up like a doll, and never forced me
to work; I could do just as I liked. Do you know how I passed my days as a
girl? I'll tell you. I used to get up early; if it was summer I used to go
to the spring, and bathe, and bring back water with me, and water all the
flowers in the house, every one of them. Then mother and I used to go to
church, and all the pilgrim women--our house was simply full of pilgrims
and holy women. We used to come back from church, and sit down to some
work, often embroidery in gold on velvet, while the pilgrim women would
tell us where they had been, what they had seen, and the different ways of
living in the world, or else they would sing songs. And so the time would
pass till dinner. Then the older women lay down for a nap, while I would
run about in the garden. Then evensong, and in the evening, stories and
singing again. Ah, those were happy days!
VARVARA.
But it's pretty much the same with us, if you come to that.
KATERINA.
Yes, but here one feels somehow in a cage. And how passionately I loved
being in church! It was like stepping into Paradise, and I saw no one and
had no thought of time and did not hear when the service was over. It was
just as if it were all in one second. Mother used to say that often
everyone looked at me and wondered what had come over me! And you know, on
a sunny day, such a column of light streamed down from the golden cupola,
and a sort of mist moving in the light, like smoke, and at times I seemed
to see angels flying and singing in that bright light. And sometimes, dear
girl, I would get up at night--we had lamps always burning all over our
house,--and fall down in some corner and pray till morning. Or I would go
out into the garden early in the morning, when the sun was just rising,
fall on my knees and pray and weep, and not know myself what I prayed and
wept for; and so they would find me sometimes. And what I was praying for
then, what I besought God for--I couldn't say. I wanted nothing, I had
enough of everything. And what dreams I used to have, dear Varia, what
lovely dreams! Golden temples or gardens of some wonderful sort, and
voices of unseen spirits singing, and the sweet scent of cypress and
mountains and trees, not such as we always see, but as they are painted in
the holy pictures. And sometimes I seemed to be flying, simply flying in
the air. I dream sometimes now, but not often, and never dreams like
those.
VARVARA.
Why, what then?
KATERINA (_after a pause_).
I shall die soon.
VARVARA.
What nonsense!
KATERINA.
No, I know I shall die. Oh, dear girl, something not good is happening
with me, something strange. It has never been like this with me before.
There is something in me so incomprehensible. As though I were beginning
to live again, or ... I don't know what.
VARVARA.
What is the matter with you?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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