Eugene Oneguine [Onegin]. A Romance of Russian Life in Verse

'Twas built, the venerable pile, As lordly mansions ought to be, In solid, unpretentious style, The style of wise antiquity.Lofty the chambers one and all, Silk tapestry upon the wall, Imperial portraits hang around And stoves of various shapes abound.All this I know is out of date, I cannot tell the reason why, But Eugene, incontestably, The matter did not agitate, Because he yawned at the bare view Of drawing-rooms or old or new.

III

He took the room wherein the old Man—forty years long in this wise— His housekeeper was wont to scold, Look through the window and kill flies.'Twas plain—an oaken floor ye scan, Two cupboards, table, soft divan, And not a speck of dirt descried. Oneguine oped the cupboards wide.In one he doth accounts behold, Here bottles stand in close array, There jars of cider block the way, An almanac but eight years old.His uncle, busy man indeed, No other book had time to read.

IV

Alone amid possessions great, 

Eugene at first began to dream, If but to lighten Time's dull rate, Of many an economic scheme;This anchorite amid his waste The ancient barshtchina replaced By an obrok's indulgent rate:[24] The peasant blessed his happy fate.But this a heinous crime appeared Unto his neighbour, man of thrift, Who secretly denounced the gift, And many another slily sneered; And all with one accord agreed, He was a dangerous fool indeed.

V

All visited him at first, of course; But since to the backdoor they led Most usually a Cossack horse Upon the Don's broad pastures bred If they but heard domestic loads Come rumbling up the neighbouring roads, Most by this circumstance offended All overtures of friendship ended."Oh! what a fool our neighbour is! He's a freemason, so we think. Alone he doth his claret drink, A lady's hand doth never kiss. 'Tis yes! no! never madam! sir!"[25] This was his social character.

VI

Into the district then to boot A new proprietor arrived, From whose analysis minute The neighbourhood fresh sport derived.Vladimir Lenski was his name, From Gottingen inspired he came, A worshipper of Kant, a bard, A young and handsome galliard.He brought from mystic Germany The fruits of learning and combined A fiery and eccentric mind, Idolatry of liberty, A wild enthusiastic tongue, Black curls which to his shoulders hung.

VII