18.

'He used to dine here in the winter With neighbour Lensky, now deceased.

This way, I'll lead you. Here, we enter The master's study, where he pleased To sleep, take coffee, pay attention To what the steward had to mention, And read a book the morning through...

And the old master lived here, too.

Time was, on Sundays, by this cas.e.m.e.nt, He'd don his gla.s.ses and agree To play "tomfoolery"4 with me.

G.o.d save his soul, he was so patient, And give his bones a peaceful berth In his damp grave in mother-earth.'

19.

With melting gaze Tatiana measures The objects that surround her here, All seem to her like priceless treasures, All set her languid soul astir With feelings joyful and half-anguished: The desk, the lamp there, now extinguished, The carpet-covered bed, the books, The window over them that looks Out on the moonlit dark unending, And that pale half-light over all, Lord Byron's portrait on the wall, And, on a little column standing, Arms crossed, a cast-iron statuette With gloomy forehead and a hat.5

20.

Tatiana long as in a vision Stands in this fashionable cell.

But it is late. A cold wind's risen.

The valley's dark. The grove is still Above the mist-enveloped river; The moon behind the hill takes cover And it is time, indeed high time The pilgrim makes her homeward climb.

And Tanya, hiding her excitement, Stifles a sigh before she starts Out back to more familiar parts.

But first she asks whether she mightn't Visit again the empty home And read the books there on her own.

21.

Tatiana and Anisya parted, Beyond the gate. After two days a In early morning now a she started Towards that strange, deserted place.

And, in the study's silent setting, Briefly the earth entire forgetting, She was at last alone and free, And wept a long time, copiously.

The books then called for her attention.

At first, she lacked the appet.i.te, But all the t.i.tles within sight Appeared bizarre. With apprehension She avidly began to read And found a different world indeed.

22.

Although, as we're aware, Onegin Had long abandoned reading, still There were some books he'd not forsaken That earned a place in his goodwill: The bard of Juan and the Giaour6 And two, three novels of the hour,7 In which the epoch was displayed And modern man put on parade And fairly faithfully depicted: With his depraved, immoral soul, Dried up and egotistical, To dreaming endlessly addicted, With his embittered, seething mind To futile enterprise consigned.

23.

There were preserved on many pages The trenchant mark of fingernails, With them the watchful girl engages As if she were deciphering spells.

Tatiana saw with trepidation What thought it was or observation Had struck Onegin, what they meant, To which he'd given mute consent.

And in the margins she encountered His pencil marks by certain lines.

Throughout, his soul was by such signs, Without his knowing it, expounded, Whether by cross, by succinct word, Or question mark, as they occurred.

24.

And gradually my Tatiana Begins to understand a thank G.o.d! a More clearly now the true persona To sigh for whom it is her lot, By fate united to this stranger: Eccentric, sad, exuding danger, Creature of heaven or of h.e.l.l, This angel, this proud devil a well, What is he then? An imitation, A paltry phantom or a joke, A Muscovite in Harold's cloak, Of alien fads an explication, Of modish words a lexicon, A parody, when said and done?

25.

Can she have solved Onegin's puzzle?

Can she have found the fitting 'word'?

The hours race on and in her tussle Her journey home is long deferred.

Two neighbours there have met to chatter About her.'Well then, what's the matter?'

'She is no child now, if you please,'

Said the old lady with a wheeze.

'Why, Olen'ka is younger than her.'

'It's time that she was settled, yes, But I feel helpless, I confess.

In such a curt and point-blank manner She turns down everyone. And broods, And wanders lonely in the woods.'

26.

'Might she not be in love?' 'With whom, then?'

'Buyanov courted her a no fear.

And Petushkov a she left the room then.

A guest, hussar Pykhtin, was here, And he found Tanya such a marvel, Pursued her like the very devil!

I thought perhaps she'll take this one, But no, once more the deal's undone.'

'My dear good woman, why not send her To Moscow, to the bridal fair!

So many vacant places there.'

'Good sir, my income's much too slender.'

'Enough, though, for a winter's spree, If not, then borrow a say, from me.'

27.

The ageing lady was delighted To hear this sensible advice; She pondered a and at once decided One winter would be worth the price.

And Tanya learns of her intention.

Unto the stringent monde's attention To offer up the clarity Of countryside simplicity, Its dated finery and dresses And no less dated turns of phrase, Sure to attract the mocking gaze Of Moscow's popinjays and Circes!8 G.o.d, no! Much better to remain Secluded in the wood's domain.

28.

Arising as the sun is dawning, She hastens out; with melting eyes Surveys the fields, and speaks in mourning These words to all her rural ties: 'Farewell now, peaceful dales, farewell to Familiar hilltops that I call to, Farewell, familiar woods near by; Farewell, the beauty of the sky, Farewell, glad nature that I cherish; I am exchanging my dear peace For noisy, glittering vanities...

Farewell, my freedom that must perish!

Whither and wherefore do I strive?

What can I hope for in this life?'