Евгений Онегин / Eugene Onegin

What, invitations? The same day

As many entertainments be!

A ball here, there a children’s treat,

Whither shall my rapscallion flit?

Whither shall he go first? He’ll see,

Perchance he will to all the three.

Meantime in matutinal dress

And hat surnamed a “Bolivar”[5 - À la “Bolivar”, from the founder of Bolivian independence.]

He hies unto the “Boulevard,”

To loiter there in idleness

Until the sleepless Breguet chime[6 - M.

 Breguet, a celebrated Parisian watchmaker – hence a slang term for a watch.]

Announcing to him dinner-time.

XIII

�Tis dark. He seats him in a sleigh,

“Drive on!” the cheerful cry goes forth,

His furs are powdered on the way

By the fine silver of the north.

He bends his course to Talon’s[7 - Talon, a famous St. Petersburg restaurateur.], where

He knows Kaverine[8 - Paul Petrovitch Kaverine, a friend for whom Pushkin in his youth appears to have entertained great respect and admiration.

He was an officer in the Hussars of the Guard, and a noted “dandy” and man about town.] will repair.

He enters. High the cork arose

And Comet champagne foaming flows.

Before him red roast beef is seen

And truffles, dear to youthful eyes,

Flanked by immortal Strasbourg pies,

The choicest flowers of French cuisine,

And Limburg cheese alive and old

Is seen next pine-apples of gold.

XIV

Still thirst fresh draughts of wine compels

To cool the cutlets’ seething grease,

When the sonorous Breguet tells

Of the commencement of the piece.

A critic of the stage malicious,

A slave of actresses capricious,

Onegin was a citizen

Of the domains of the side-scene.

To the theatre he repairs

Where each young critic ready stands,

Capers applauds with clap of hands,

With hisses Cleopatra scares,

Moina recalls for this alone

That all may hear his voice’s tone.

XV

Thou fairy-land! Where formerly

Shone pungent Satire’s dauntless king,

Von Wisine, friend of liberty,

And Kniajnine, apt at copying.

The young Simeonova too there

With Ozeroff was wont to share

Applause, the people’s donative.