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

Latin is just now not in vogue, But if the truth I must relate, Oneguine knew enough, the rogue A mild quotation to translate,A little Juvenal to spout, With "vale" finish off a note; Two verses he could recollect Of the Aeneid, but incorrect.In history he took no pleasure, The dusty chronicles of earth For him were but of little worth, Yet still of anecdotes a treasure Within his memory there lay, From Romulus unto our day.

VII

For empty sound the rascal swore he Existence would not make a curse, Knew not an iamb from a choree, Although we read him heaps of verse.Homer, Theocritus, he jeered, But Adam Smith to read appeared, And at economy was great; That is, he could elucidate How empires store of wealth unfold, How flourish, why and wherefore less If the raw product they possess The medium is required of gold.The father scarcely understands His son and mortgages his lands.

VIII

But upon all that Eugene knew

I have no leisure here to dwell,But say he was a genius whoIn one thing really did excel.It occupied him from a boy,A labour, torment, yet a joy,It whiled his idle hours awayAnd wholly occupied his day—The amatory science warm,Which Ovid once immortalized,For which the poet agonizedLaid down his life of sun and stormOn the steppes of Moldavia lone,Far from his Italy—his own.[4]

IX

How soon he learnt deception's art, Hope to conceal and jealousy, False confidence or doubt to impart, Sombre or glad in turn to be, Haughty appear, subservient, Obsequious or indifferent!What languor would his silence show, How full of fire his speech would glow!How artless was the note which spoke Of love again, and yet again; How deftly could he transport feign!How bright and tender was his look, Modest yet daring! And a tear Would at the proper time appear.

X

How well he played the greenhorn's part To cheat the inexperienced fair, Sometimes by pleasing flattery's art, Sometimes by ready-made despair;The feeble moment would espy Of tender years the modesty Conquer by passion and address, Await the long-delayed caress.Avowal then 'twas time to pray, Attentive to the heart's first beating, Follow up love—a secret meeting Arrange without the least delay— Then, then—well, in some solitude Lessons to give he understood!

XI