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.