Part 17 (2/2)

And, by the way, I here a.s.sert That for that matter in my verse As many dinners I rehea.r.s.e, As oft to meat and drink advert, As thou, great Homer, didst of yore, Whom thirty centuries adore.

x.x.xVII

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 fas.h.i.+on's gay frivolities; But my Tattiana, on my soul, Is sweeter than thy Helen foul.

x.x.xVIII

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.

x.x.xIX

The tea, as I remarked, appeared, But scarce had maids their saucers ta'en When in the grand saloon was heard Of ba.s.soons 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 circ.u.mspect, 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.

Fas.h.i.+on 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.

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