Part 27 (1/2)

There was no doubt! Eugene, alas!

Tattiana loved as when a lad, Both day and night he now must pa.s.s In love-lorn meditation sad.

Careless of every social rule, The crystals of her vestibule He daily in his drives drew near And like a shadow haunted her.

Enraptured was he if allowed To swathe her shoulders in the furs, If his hot hand encountered hers, Or he dispersed the motley crowd Of lackeys in her pathway grouped, Or to pick up her kerchief stooped.

x.x.x

She seemed of him oblivious, Despite the anguish of his breast, Received him freely at her house, At times three words to him addressed In company, or simply bowed, Or recognized not in the crowd.

No coquetry was there, I vouch-- Society endures not such!

Oneguine's cheek grew ashy pale, Either she saw not or ignored; Oneguine wasted; on my word, Already he grew phthisical.

All to the doctors Eugene send, And they the waters recommend.

x.x.xI

He went not--sooner was prepared To write his forefathers to warn Of his approach; but nothing cared Tattiana--thus the s.e.x is born.-- He obstinately will remain, Still hopes, endeavours, though in vain.

Sickness more courage doth command Than health, so with a trembling hand A love epistle he doth scrawl.

Though correspondence as a rule He used to hate--and was no fool-- Yet suffering emotional Had rendered him an invalid; But word for word his letter read.

Oneguine's Letter to Tattiana

All is foreseen. My secret drear Will sound an insult in your ear.

What acrimonious scorn I trace Depicted on your haughty face!

What do I ask? What cause a.s.signed That I to you reveal my mind?

To what malicious merriment, It may be, I yield nutriment!

Meeting you in times past by chance, Warmth I imagined in your glance, But, knowing not the actual truth, Restrained the impulses of youth; Also my wretched liberty I would not part with finally; This separated us as well-- Lenski, unhappy victim, fell, From everything the heart held dear I then resolved my heart to tear; Unknown to all, without a tie, I thought--retirement, liberty, Will happiness replace. My G.o.d!

How I have erred and felt the rod!

No, ever to behold your face, To follow you in every place, Your smiling lips, your beaming eyes, To watch with lovers' ecstasies, Long listen, comprehend the whole Of your perfections in my soul, Before you agonized to die-- This, this were true felicity!

But such is not for me. I brood Daily of love in solitude.

My days of life approach their end, Yet I in idleness expend The remnant destiny concedes, And thus each stubbornly proceeds.

I feel, allotted is my span; But, that life longer may remain, At morn I must a.s.suredly Know that thy face that day I see.

I tremble lest my humble prayer You with stern countenance declare The artifice of villany-- I hear your harsh, reproachful cry.

If ye but knew how dreadful 'tis To bear love's parching agonies-- To burn, yet reason keep awake The fever of the blood to slake-- A pa.s.sionate desire to bend And, sobbing at your feet, to blend Entreaties, woes and prayers, confess All that the heart would fain express-- Yet with a feigned frigidity To arm the tongue and e'en the eye, To be in conversation clear And happy unto you appear.

So be it! But internal strife I cannot longer wage concealed.

The die is cast! Thine is my life!

Into thy hands my fate I yield!

x.x.xII

No answer! He another sent.

Epistle second, note the third, Remained unnoticed. Once he went To an a.s.sembly--she appeared Just as he entered. How severe!

She will not see, she will not hear.

Alas! she is as hard, behold, And frosty as a Twelfth Night cold.