Eugene Onegin. A Romance of Russian Life in Verse

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by Александр Пушкин


  Tattiana every day conferred

  With Martin Zadeka. In woe

  She consolation thence obtained—

  Inseparable they remained.

  [Note 56: "Malvina," a romance by Madame Cottin.]

  XXIV

  The dream left terror in its train.

  Not knowing its interpretation,

  Tania the meaning would obtain

  Of such a dread hallucination.

  Tattiana to the index flies

  And alphabetically tries

  The words bear, bridge, fir, darkness, bog,

  Raven, snowstorm, tempest, fog,

  Et cetera; but nothing showed

  Her Martin Zadeka in aid,

  Though the foul vision promise made

  Of a most mournful episode,

  And many a day thereafter laid

  A load of care upon the maid.

  XXV

  "But lo! forth from the valleys dun

  With purple hand Aurora leads,

  Swift following in her wake, the sun,"(57)

  And a grand festival proceeds.

  The Larinas were since sunrise

  O'erwhelmed with guests; by families

  The neighbours come, in sledge approach,

  Britzka, kibitka, or in coach.

  Crush and confusion in the hall,

  Latest arrivals' salutations,

  Barking, young ladies' osculations,

  Shouts, laughter, jamming 'gainst the wall,

  Bows and the scrape of many feet,

  Nurses who scream and babes who bleat.

  [Note 57: The above three lines are a parody on the turgid style of Lomonossoff, a literary man of the second Catherine's era.]

  XXVI

  Bringing his partner corpulent

  Fat Poustiakoff drove to the door;

  Gvozdine, a landlord excellent,

  Oppressor of the wretched poor;

  And the Skatenines, aged pair,

  With all their progeny were there,

  Who from two years to thirty tell;

  Petoushkoff, the provincial swell;

  Bouyanoff too, my cousin, wore(58)

  His wadded coat and cap with peak

  (Surely you know him as I speak);

  And Flianoff, pensioned councillor,

  Rogue and extortioner of yore,

  Now buffoon, glutton, and a bore.

  [Note 58: Pushkin calls Bouyanoff his cousin because he is a character in the "Dangerous Neighbour," a poem by Vassili Pushkin, the poet's uncle.]

  XXVII

  The family of Kharlikoff,

  Came with Monsieur Triquet, a prig,

  Who arrived lately from Tamboff,

  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 ki
ndness 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

  Than cold Oneguine's oddities,

  The aspect of a landscape drear.

  Or e'en Istomina, my dear,

  And fashion's gay frivolities;

  But my Tattiana, on my soul,

  Is sweeter than thy Helen foul.

  XXXVIII

  No one the contrary will urge,

  Though for his Helen Menelaus

  Again a century should scourge

  Us, and like Trojan warriors slay us;

  Though around honoured Priam's throne

  Troy's sages should in concert own

  Once more, when she appeared in sight,

  Paris and Menelaus right.

  But as to fighting—'twill appear!

  For patience, reader, I must plead!

  A little farther please to read

  And be not in advance severe.

  There'll be a fight. I do not lie.

  My word of honour given have I.

  XXXIX

  The tea, as I remarked, appeared,

  But scarce had maids their saucers ta'en

  When in the grand saloon was heard

  Of bassoons and of flutes the strain.

  His soul by crash of music fired,

  His tea with rum no more desired,

  The Paris of those country parts

  To Olga Petoushkova darts:

  To Tania Lenski; Kharlikova,

  A marriageable maid matured,

  The poet from Tamboff secured,

  Bouyanoff whisked off Poustiakova.

  All to the grand saloon are gone—

  The ball in all its splendour shone.

  XL

  I tried when I began this tale,

  (See the first canto if ye will),

  A ball in Peter's capital,

  To sketch ye in Albano's style.(60)

  But by fantastic dreams distraught,

  My memory wandered wide and sought

  The feet of my dear lady friends.

  O feet, where'er your path extends

  I long enough deceived have erred.

  The perfidies I recollect

  Should make me much more circumspect,

  Reform me both in deed and word,

  And this fifth canto ought to be

  From such digressions wholly free.

  [Note 60: Francesco Albano, a celebrated painter, styled the "Anacreon of Painting," was born at Bologna 1578, and died in the year 1666.]

  XLI

  The whirlwind of the waltz sweeps by,

  Undeviating and insane

  As giddy youth's hilarity—

  Pair after pair the race sustain.

  The moment for revenge, meanwhile,

  Espying, Eugene with a smile

  Approaches Olga and the pair

  Amid the company career.

  Soon the maid on a chair he seats,

  Begins to talk of this and that,

  But when two minutes she had sat,

  Again the giddy waltz repeats.

  All are amazed; but Lenski he

  Scarce credits what his eyes can see.

  XLII

  Hark! the mazurka. In times past,

  When the mazurka used to peal,

  All rattled in the ball-room vast,

  The parquet cracked beneath the heel,

  And jolting jarred the window-frames.

  'Tis not so now. Like gentle dames

  We glide along a floor of wax.

  However, the mazurka lacks

  Nought of its charms original

  In country towns, where still it keeps

  Its stamping, capers and high leaps.

  Fashion is there immutable,

  Who tyrannizes us with ease,

  Of modern Russians the disease.

  XLIII

  Bouyanoff, wrathful cousin mine,

  Unto the hero of this lay

  Olga and Tania led. Malign,

  Oneguine Olga bore away.

  Gliding in negligent career,

  He bending whispered in her ear

  Some madrigal not worth a rush,

  And pressed her hand—the crimson blush

  Upon her cheek by adulation

  Grew brighter still. But Lenski hath

  Seen all, beside himself with wrath,

  And hot with jealous indignation,

  Till the mazurka's close he stays,

  Her hand for the cotillon prays.

  XLIV

  She fears she cannot.—Cannot? Why?—

  She promised Eugene, or she would

  With great delight.—O God on high!

  Heard he the truth? And thus she could—

  And can it be? But late a child

 

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