Part 18 (2/2)

But I must add to what I write That, tipsy once in actual fight, He from his Kalmuck horse did leap In mud and mire to wallow deep, Drunk as a fly; and thus the French A valuable hostage gained, A modern Regulus unchained, Who to surrender did not blench That every morn at Verrey's cost Three flasks of wine he might exhaust.

VI

Time was, his raillery was gay, He loved the simpleton to mock, To make wise men the idiot play Openly or 'neath decent cloak.

Yet sometimes this or that deceit Encountered punishment complete, And sometimes into snares as well Himself just like a greenhorn fell.

He could in disputation s.h.i.+ne With pungent or obtuse retort, At times to silence would resort, At times talk nonsense with design; Quarrels among young friends he bred And to the field of honour led;

VII

Or reconciled them, it may be, And all the three to breakfast went; Then he'd malign them secretly With jest and gossip gaily blent.

_Sed alia tempora_. And bravery (Like love, another sort of knavery!) Diminishes as years decline.

But, as I said, Zaretski mine Beneath acacias, cherry-trees, From storms protection having sought, Lived as a really wise man ought, Like Horace, planted cabbages, Both ducks and geese in plenty bred And lessons to his children read.

VIII

He was no fool, and Eugene mine, To friends.h.i.+p making no pretence, Admired his judgment, which was fine, Pervaded with much common sense.

He usually was glad to see The man and liked his company, So, when he came next day to call, Was not surprised thereby at all.

But, after mutual compliments, Zaretski with a knowing grin, Ere conversation could begin, The epistle from the bard presents.

Oneguine to the window went And scanned in silence its content.

IX

It was a cheery, generous Cartel, or challenge to a fight, Whereto in language courteous Lenski his comrade did invite.

Oneguine, by first impulse moved, Turned and replied as it behoved, Curtly announcing for the fray That he was ”ready any day.”

Zaretski rose, nor would explain, He cared no longer there to stay, Had much to do at home that day, And so departed. But Eugene, The matter by his conscience tried, Was with himself dissatisfied.

X

In fact, the subject a.n.a.lysed, Within that secret court discussed, In much his conduct stigmatized; For, from the outset, 'twas unjust To jest as he had done last eve, A timid, shrinking love to grieve.

And ought he not to disregard The poet's madness? for 'tis hard At eighteen not to play the fool!

Sincerely loving him, Eugene a.s.suredly should not have been Conventionality's dull tool-- Not a mere hot, pugnacious boy, But man of sense and probity.

XI

He might his motives have narrated, Not bristled up like a wild beast, He ought to have conciliated That youthful heart--”But, now at least, The opportunity is flown.

Besides, a duellist well-known Hath mixed himself in the affair, Malicious and a slanderer.

Undoubtedly, disdain alone Should recompense his idle jeers, But fools--their calumnies and sneers”-- Behold! the world's opinion!(63) Our idol, Honour's motive force, Round which revolves the universe.

[Note 63: A line of Griboyedoff's. (Woe from Wit.)]

XII

Impatient, boiling o'er with wrath, The bard his answer waits at home, But lo! his braggart neighbour hath Triumphant with the answer come.

Now for the jealous youth what joy!

He feared the criminal might try To treat the matter as a jest, Use subterfuge, and thus his breast From the dread pistol turn away.

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