Eugene Onegin: A Novel in Verse (Oxford World's Classics) Page 12

And famous!’’ But the plaintive measure

  Foretells a death to come ere long,

  And girls prefer ‘The Kitty’s Song.’*

  9

  A frosty night, the sky resplendent

  As heaven’s galaxy shines down

  And glides—so peaceful and transcendent….

  Tatyana, in her low-cut gown,

  Steps out of doors and trains a mirror

  Upon the moon to bring it nearer;*

  But all that shows in her dark glass

  Is just the trembling moon, alas….

  What’s that … the crunching snow … who’s coming?!

  She flits on tiptoe with a sigh

  And asks the stranger passing by,

  Her voice more soft than reed pipe’s humming:

  ‘Oh, what’s your name?’ He hurries on,

  Looks back and answers: ‘Agafon.’*

  10

  Tatyana, as her nurse suggested,

  Prepared to conjure all night through,*

  And so in secret she requested

  The bathhouse table laid for two.

  But then sheer terror seized Tatyana…

  And I, recalling poor Svetlana,*

  Feel frightened too—so let it go,

  We’ll not have Tanya conjure so.

  Instead, her silken sash untying,

  She just undressed and went to bed.

  Sweet Lei* now floats above her head,

  While ’neath her downy pillow lying,

  A maiden’s looking-glass she keeps.

  Now all is hushed. Tatyana sleeps.

  11

  And what an awesome dream she’s dreaming:

  She walks upon a snowy dale,

  And all around her, dully gleaming,

  Sad mist and murky gloom prevail;

  Amid the drifting, snowbound spaces

  A dark and seething torrent races,

  A hoary frothing wave that strains

  And tears asunder winter’s chains;

  Two slender, icebound poles lie linking

  The chasm’s banks atop the ridge:

  A perilous and shaky bridge;

  And full of doubt, her spirits sinking,

  Tatyana stopped in sudden dread

  Before the raging gulf ahead.

  12

  As at a vexing separation,

  Tatyana murmured, at a loss;

  She saw no friendly soul on station

  To lend a hand to help her cross.

  But suddenly a snowbank shifted,

  And who emerged when it was lifted?

  A huge and matted bear appeared!

  Tatyana screamed! He growled and reared,

  Then stretched a paw … sharp claws abhorrent,

  To Tanya, who could barely stand;

  She took it with a trembling hand

  And worked her way across the torrent

  With apprehensive step … then fled!

  The bear just followed where she led.

  13

  She dare not look to see behind her,

  And ever faster on she reels;

  At every turn he seems to find her,

  That shaggy footman at her heels! …

  The grunting, loathesome bear still lumbers,

  Before them now a forest slumbers;

  The pines in all their beauty frown

  And barely stir, all weighted down

  By clumps of snow; and through the summits

  Of naked linden, birch, and ash

  The beams from heaven’s lanterns flash;

  There is no path; the gorge that plummets,

  The shrubs, the land … all lie asleep,

  By snowy blizzards buried deep.

  14

  She’s reached the wood, the bear still tracking;

  Soft snow, knee-deep, lies all about;

  A jutting branch looms up, attacking,

  And tears her golden earrings out;

  And now another tries to trip her,

  And from one charming foot her slipper,

  All wet, comes off in crumbly snow;

  And now she feels her kerchief go,

  She lets it lie, she mustn’t linger,

  Behind her back she hears the bear,

  But shy and frightened, does not dare

  To lift her skirt with trembling finger;

  She runs … but he keeps crashing on …

  Until at last her strength is gone.

  15

  She sinks in snow; the bear alertly

  Just picks her up and rushes on;

  She lies within his arms inertly;

  Her breathing stops, all sense is gone.

  Along a forest road he surges,

  And then, mid trees, a hut emerges;

  Dense brush abounds; on every hand

  Forlorn and drifting snowbanks stand;

  A tiny window glitters brightly,

  And from the hut come cries and din;

  The bear proclaims: ‘My gossip’s in.’

  ‘Come warm yourself,’ he adds politely,

  Then pushes straightway through the door

  And lays her down upon the floor.

  16

  On coming to, she looks around her:

  She’s in a hall; no bear at least;

  The clink of glasses, shouts … confound her,

  As if it were some funeral feast;

  She can’t make sense of what she’s hearing,

  Creeps to the door and, softly peering,

  Sees through a crack the strangest thing—

  A horde of monsters in a ring:

  Out of a dog-face horns are sprouting;

  One has a rooster’s head on top;

  A goateed witch is on a mop;

  A haughty skeleton sits pouting

  Beside a short-tailed dwarf… and that

  Is half a crane and half a cat.

  17

  More wondrous still and still more fearful:

  A crab upon a spider sat;

  On goose’s neck a skull seemed cheerful,

  While spinning round in bright red hat;

  A windmill there was squat-jig dancing

  And cracked and waved its sails while prancing;

  Guffawing, barking, whistles, claps,

  And human speech and hoofbeat taps!

  But what was Tanya’s stunned reaction

  When mid the guests she recognized

  The one she feared, the one she prized—

  The hero of our novel’s action!

  Onegin sits amid the roar

  And glances slyly through the door.

  18

  He gives a sign—the others hustle;

  He drinks—all drink and all grow shrill;

  He laughs—they all guffaw and bustle;

  He frowns—and all of them grow still.

  He’s master here, there’s no mistaking;

  And Tanya, now no longer quaking,

  Turns curious to see still more

  And pushes slightly on the door….

  The sudden gust of wind surprises

  The band of goblins, putting out

  The night-time lanterns all about;

  His eyes aflame, Onegin rises

  And strikes his chair against the floor;

  All rise; he marches to the door.

  19

  And fear assails her; in a panic

  She tries to flee … but feels too weak;

  In anguished writhing, almost manic,

  She wants to scream … but cannot speak;

  Eugene throws wide the door, revealing

  To monstrous looks and hellish squealing

  Her slender form; fierce cackles sound

  In savage glee; all eyes turn round,

  All hooves and trunks—grotesque and curving,

  And whiskers, tusks, and tufted tails,

  Red bloody tongues and snouts and nails,

  Huge horns and bony fingers swerving—

  All point at her and all c
ombine

  To shout as one: ‘She’s mine! She’s mine!’

  20

  ‘She’s mine!’ announced Eugene, commanding;

  And all the monsters fled the room;

  The maid alone was left there standing

  With him amid the frosty gloom.

  Onegin stares at her intently,

  Then draws her to a corner gently

  And lays her on a makeshift bed,

  And on her shoulder rests his head….

  Then Olga enters in confusion,

  And Lensky too; a light shines out;

  Onegin lifts an arm to rout

  Unbidden guests for their intrusion;

  He rants at them, his eyes turn dread;

  Tatyana lies there nearly dead.

  21

  The heated words grow louder, quicken;

  Onegin snatches up a knife,

  And Lensky falls; the shadows thicken;

  A rending cry amid the strife

  Reverberates … the cabin quivers;

  Gone numb with terror, Tanya shivers …

  And wakes to find her room alight,

  The frozen windows sparkling bright,

  Where dawn’s vermilion rays are playing;

  Then Olga pushes through the door,

  More rosy than the dawn before

  And lighter than a swallow, saying:

  ‘Oh, tell me, do, Tatyana love,

  Who was it you were dreaming of?’

  22

  But she ignores her sister’s pleading,

  Just lies in bed without a word,

  Keeps leafing through some book she’s reading,

  So wrapt in thought she hasn’t heard.

  Although the book she read presented

  No lines a poet had invented,

  No sapient truths, no pretty scenes—

  Yet neither Virgil’s, nor Racine’s,

  Nor Seneca’s, nor Byron’s pages,

  Nor even Fashion Plates Displayed

  Had ever so engrossed a maid:

  She read, my friends, that king of sages

  Martýn Zadéck,* Chaldean seer

  And analyst of dreams unclear.

  23

  This noble and profound creation

  A roving pedlar one day brought

  To show them in their isolation,

  And finally left it when they bought

  Malvina* for three roubles fifty

  (A broken set, but he was thrifty);

  And in exchange he also took

  Two Petriads,* a grammar book,

  Some fables he could sell tomorrow,

  Plus Marmontel*—just volume three.

  Martýn Zadéck soon came to be

  Tatyana’s favourite. Now when sorrow

  Assails her heart, he brings her light,

  And sleeps beside her through the night.

  24

  Her dream disturbs her, and not knowing

  What secret message she’d been sent,

  Tatyana seeks some passage showing

  Just what the dreadful vision meant.

  She finds in alphabetic order

  What clues the index can afford her:

  There’s bear and blizzard, bridge, and crow,

  Fir, forest, hedgehog, night, and snow,

  And many more. But her confusion

  Martýn Zadéck cannot dispel;

  The frightful vision must foretell

  Sad times to come and disillusion.

  For several days she couldn’t find

  A way to calm her troubled mind.

  25

  But lo! … with crimson hand Aurora

  Leads forth from morning dales the sun*

  And brings in merry mood before her

  The name-day feast that’s just begun.

  Since dawn Dame Larin’s near relations

  Have filled the house; whole congregations

  Of neighbour clans have come in drays,

  Kibitkas, britzkas, coaches, sleighs.

  The hall is full of crowds and bustle;

  The drawing room explodes with noise,

  With bark of pugs and maidens’ joys,

  With laughter, kisses, din and hustle;

  The guests all bow and scrape their feet,

  Wet nurses shout and babies bleat.

  26

  Fat Pustyakóv, the local charmer,

  Has come and brought his portly wife;

  Gvozd ÿn as well, that model farmer,

  Whose peasants lead a wretched life;

  The two Skotiníns, grey as sages,

  With children of all shapes and ages—

  From two to thirty at the top;

  Here’s Petushkóv, the district fop;

  And my first cousin, good Buyánov,*

  Lint-covered, in his visored cap

  (As you, of course, well know the chap);

  And former couns’lor, old man Flyánov,

  A rogue and gossip night and noon,

  A glutton, grafter, and buffoon.

  27

  The Harlikóvs were feeling mellow

  And brought along Monsieur Triquet,

  Late from Tambóv, a witty fellow

  In russet wig and fine pince-nez.

  True Gaul, Triquet in pocket carried

  A verse to warn that Tanya tarried,

  Set to a children’s melody:

  Réveillez-vous, belle endormie*

  The printed verse had lain neglected

  In some old tattered almanac

  Until Triquet, who had a knack

  For rhyme, saw fit to resurrect it

  And boldly put for ‘belle Niná’

  The charming line: ‘belle Tatyaná.’*

  28

  And now from nearby quarters, brothers,

  That idol whom ripe misses cheer,

  The joy and hope of district mothers—

  The company commander’s here!

  He’s brought some news to set them cheering:

  The regimental band’s appearing!

  ‘The colonel’s sending it tonight.’

  There’ll be a ball! What sheer delight!

  The girls all jump and grow excited.

  But dinner’s served. And so by pairs,

  And arm in arm, they seek their chairs:

  The girls near Tanya; men delighted

  To face them; and amid the din,

  All cross themselves and dig right in.

  29

  Then for a moment chatter ceases

  As mouths start chewing. All around

  The clink of plates and forks increases,

  The glasses jingle and resound.

  But soon the guests are somewhat sated;

  The hubbub grows more animated …

  But no one hears his neighbour out;

  All laugh and argue, squeal and shout.

  The doors fly back; two figures enter—

  It’s Lensky … with Eugene! ‘Oh dear!’

  The hostess cries, ‘At last you’re here!’

  The guests all squeeze toward the centre,

  Each moves his setting, shifts his chair,

  And in a trice they seat the pair.

  30

  Across from Tanya—there they place them;

  And paler than the moon at dawn,

  She cannot raise her eyes to face them

  And trembles like a hunted fawn.

  Inside her, stormy passion’s seething;

  The wretched girl is scarcely breathing;

  The two friends’ greetings pass unheard;

  Her tears well up without a word

  And almost fall; the poor thing’s ready

  To faint; but deep within her, will

  And strength of mind were working still,

  And they prevailed. Her lips more steady,

  She murmured something through her pain

  And managed somehow to remain.

  31

  All tragico-hysteric moaning,

/>   All girlish fainting-fits and tears,

  Had long since set Eugene to groaning:

  He’d borne enough in former years.

  Already cross and irritated

  By being at this feast he hated,

  And noting how poor Tanya shook,

  He barely hid his angry look

  And fumed in sullen indignation;

  He swore that he’d make Lensky pay

  And be avenged that very day.

  Exulting in anticipation,

  He inwardly began to draw

  Caricatures of those he saw.

  32

  Some others too might well have noted

  Poor Tanya’s plight; but every eye

  Was at the time in full devoted

  To sizing up a lavish pie*

  (Alas, too salty); now they’re bringing,

  In bottle with the pitch still clinging,

  Between the meat and blancmanger,

  Tsimlyánsky wine … a whole array

  Of long-stemmed glasses … (quite as slender

  As your dear waist, my sweet Zizí,*

  Fair crystal of my soul and key

  To all my youthful verses tender,

  Love’s luring phial, you who once

  Made me a drunken, love-filled dunce!)

  33

  The bottle pops as cork goes flying;

  The fizzing wine comes gushing fast;

  And now with solemn mien, and dying

  To have his couplet heard at last,

  Triquet stands up; the congregation

  Falls silent in anticipation.

  Tatyana’s scarce alive; Triquet,

  With verse in hand, looks Tanya’s way

  And starts to sing, off-key. Loud cheering

  And claps salute him. Tanya feels

  Constrained to curtsey … almost reels.

  The bard, whose modesty’s endearing,

  Is first to toast her where he stands,

  Then puts his couplet in her hands.

  34

  Now greetings come, congratulations;

  Tatyana thanks them for the day;

  But when Eugene’s felicitations

  Came due in turn, the girl’s dismay,