Eugene Onegin. A Romance of Russian Life in Verse

In spectacles and chestnut wig.

Like a true Frenchman, couplets wrought

In Tania's praise in pouch he brought,

Known unto children perfectly:

Reveillez-vouz, belle endormie.

Among some ancient ballads thrust,

He found them in an almanac,

And the sagacious Triquet back

To light had brought them from their dust,

Whilst he "belle Nina" had the face

By "belle Tattiana" to replace.

XXVIII

Lo! from the nearest barrack came,

Of old maids the divinity,

And comfort of each country dame,

The captain of a company.

He enters. Ah! good news to-day!

The military band will play.

The colonel sent it. Oh! delight!

So there will be a dance to-night.

Girls in anticipation skip!

But dinner-time comes. Two and two

They hand in hand to table go.

The maids beside Tattiana keep—

Men opposite. The cross they sign

And chattering loud sit down to dine.

XXIX

Ceased for a space all chattering.

Jaws are at work. On every side

Plates, knives and forks are clattering

And ringing wine-glasses are plied.

But by degrees the crowd begin

To raise a clamour and a din:

They laugh, they argue, and they bawl,

They shout and no one lists at all.

The doors swing open: Lenski makes

His entrance with Oneguine. "Ah!

At last the author!" cries Mamma.

The guests make room; aside each takes

His chair, plate, knife and fork in haste;

The friends are called and quickly placed.

XXX

Right opposite Tattiana placed,

She, than the morning moon more pale,

More timid than a doe long chased,

Lifts not her eyes which swimming fail.

Anew the flames of passion start

Within her; she is sick at heart;

The two friends' compliments she hears

Not, and a flood of bitter tears

With effort she restrains. Well nigh

The poor girl fell into a faint,

But strength of mind and self-restraint

Prevailed at last. She in reply

Said something in an undertone

And at the table sat her down.

XXXI

To tragedy, the fainting fit,

And female tears hysterical,

Oneguine could not now submit,

For long he had endured them all.

Our misanthrope was full of ire,

At a great feast against desire,

And marking Tania's agitation,

Cast down his eyes in trepidation

And sulked in silent indignation;

Swearing how Lenski he would rile,

Avenge himself in proper style.

Triumphant by anticipation,

Caricatures he now designed

Of all the guests within his mind.

XXXII

Certainly not Eugene alone

Tattiana's trouble might have spied,

But that the eyes of every one

By a rich pie were occupied—

Unhappily too salt by far;

And that a bottle sealed with tar

Appeared, Don's effervescing boast,(59)

Between the blanc-mange and the roast;

Behind, of glasses an array,

Tall, slender, like thy form designed,

Zizi, thou mirror of my mind,

Fair object of my guileless lay,

Seductive cup of love, whose flow

Made me so tipsy long ago!

[Note 59: The Donskoe Champanskoe is a species of sparkling wine manufactured in the vicinity of the river Don.]

XXXIII

From the moist cork the bottle freed

With loud explosion, the bright wine

Hissed forth. With serious air indeed,

Long tortured by his lay divine,

Triquet arose, and for the bard

The company deep silence guard.

Tania well nigh expired when he

Turned to her and discordantly

Intoned it, manuscript in hand.

Voices and hands applaud, and she

Must bow in common courtesy;

The poet, modest though so grand,

Drank to her health in the first place,

Then handed her the song with grace.

XXXIV

Congratulations, toasts resound,

Tattiana thanks to all returned,

But, when Oneguine's turn came round,

The maiden's weary eye which yearned,

Her agitation and distress

Aroused in him some tenderness.

He bowed to her nor silence broke,

But somehow there shone in his look

The witching light of sympathy;

I know not if his heart felt pain

Or if he meant to flirt again,

From habit or maliciously,

But kindness from his eye had beamed

And to revive Tattiana seemed.

XXXV

The chairs are thrust back with a roar,

The crowd unto the drawing-room speeds,

As bees who leave their dainty store

And seek in buzzing swarms the meads.

Contented and with victuals stored,

Neighbour by neighbour sat and snored,

Matrons unto the fireplace go,

Maids in the corner whisper low;

Behold! green tables are brought forth,

And testy gamesters do engage

In boston and the game of age,

Ombre, and whist all others worth:

A strong resemblance these possess—

All sons of mental weariness.

XXXVI

Eight rubbers were already played,

Eight times the heroes of the fight

Change of position had essayed,

When tea was brought. 'Tis my delight

Time to denote by dinner, tea,

And supper. In the country we

Can count the time without much fuss—

The stomach doth admonish us.

And, by the way, I here assert

That for that matter in my verse

As many dinners I rehearse,

As oft to meat and drink advert,

As thou, great Homer, didst of yore,

Whom thirty centuries adore.

XXXVII

I will with thy divinity

Contend with knife and fork and platter,

But grant with magnanimity

I'm beaten in another matter;

Thy heroes, sanguinary wights,

Also thy rough-and-tumble fights,

Thy Venus and thy Jupiter,

More advantageously appear