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

But finally she heaves a sigh, And rising from her bench proceeds; But scarce had turned the corner nigh, Which to the neighbouring alley leads, When Eugene like a ghost did rise Before her straight with roguish eyes.Tattiana faltered, and became Scarlet as burnt by inward flame.But this adventure's consequence To-day, my friends, at any rate, I am not strong enough to state; I, after so much eloquence, Must take a walk and rest a bit— Some day I'll somehow finish it.

End of Canto the Third

CANTO THE FOURTH

Rural Life

'La Morale est dans la nature des choses.'

Necker 

I

THE less we love a lady fair The easier 'tis to gain her grace, And the more surely we ensnare Her in the pitfalls which we place.Time was when cold seduction strove To swagger as the art of love, Everywhere trumpeting its feats, Not seeking love but sensual sweets.But this amusement delicate Was worthy of that old baboon, Our fathers used to dote upon; The Lovelaces are out of date, Their glory with their heels of red 

And long perukes hath vanished.

II

For who imposture can endure, A constant harping on one tune, Serious endeavours to assure What everybody long has known;Ever to hear the same replies And overcome antipathies Which never have existed, e'en In little maidens of thirteen?And what like menaces fatigues, Entreaties, oaths, fictitious fear, Epistles of six sheets or near, Rings, tears, deceptions and intrigues,Aunts, mothers and their scrutiny, And husbands' tedious amity?

III

Such were the musings of Eugene. He in the early years of life Had a deluded victim been Of error and the passions' strife.By daily life deteriorated, Awhile this beauty captivated, And that no longer could inspire. Slowly exhausted by desire, Yet satiated with success, In solitude or worldly din, He heard his soul's complaint within, With laughter smothered weariness: And thus he spent eight years of time, Destroyed the blossom of his prime.

IV

Though beauty he no more adored, He still made love in a queer way; Rebuffed—as quickly reassured, Jilted—glad of a holiday.Without enthusiasm he met The fair, nor parted with regret, Scarce mindful of their love and guile. Thus a guest with composure will To take a hand at whist oft come: He takes his seat, concludes his game, And straight returning whence he came, Tranquilly goes to sleep at home, And in the morning doth not know Whither that evening he will go.

V