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

Adieu, thou witness of our glory, Petrovski Palace; come, astir! Drive on! the city barriers hoary Appear; along the road of Tver The coach is borne o'er ruts and holes, Past women, sentry-boxes, rolls, Past palaces and nunneries, Lamp-posts, shops, sledges, families, Bokharians, peasants, beds of greens, Boulevards, belfries, milliners, Huts, chemists, Cossacks, shopkeepers And fashionable magazines, Balconies, lion's heads on doors, Jackdaws on every spire—in scores.[78]

XXXVII

The weary way still incomplete, An hour passed by—another—till, Near Khariton's in a side street The coach before a house stood still.At an old aunt's they had arrived Who had for four long years survived An invalid from lung complaint. A Kalmuck gray, in caftan rent And spectacles, his knitting staid And the saloon threw open wide; The princess from the sofa cried And the newcomers welcome bade.The two old ladies then embraced And exclamations interlaced.

XXXVIII

"Princesse, mon ange!"—"Pachette!"— "Aline!" "Who would have thought it? As of yore! Is it for long?"—"Ma chere cousine!""Sit down. How funny, to be sure! 'Tis a scene of romance, I vow!" "Tania, my eldest child, you know"— "Ah! come, Tattiana, come to me!Is it a dream, and can it be? Cousin, rememb'rest Grandison?" "What! Grandison?"—"Yes, certainly!" "Oh! I remember, where is he?"— "Here, he resides with Simeon.He called upon me Christmas Eve— His son is married, just conceive!"

XXXIX

"And he—but of him presently— To-morrow Tania we will show, What say you? to the family— Alas! abroad I cannot go.See, I can hardly crawl about— But you must both be quite tired out! Let us go seek a little rest— Ah! I'm so weak—my throbbing breast!Oppressive now is happiness, Not only sorrow—Ah! my dear, Now I am fit for nothing here. In old age life is weariness!"Then weeping she sank back distressed And fits of coughing racked her chest.

XL

By the sick lady's gaiety And kindness Tania was impressed, But, her own room in memory, The strange apartment her oppressed: Repose her silken curtains fled, She could not sleep in her new bed.The early tinkling of the bells Which of approaching labour tells Aroused Tattiana from her bed. The maiden at her casement sits As daylight glimmers, darkness flits, But ah! discerns nor wood nor mead— Beneath her lay a strange courtyard, A stable, kitchen, fence appeared.

XLI