I cannot tell on what pretence—
But lo! the friends to chat commence.
XXXVIII
'How are our neighbours fair, pray tell,
Tattiana, saucy Olga thine?'
'The family are all quite well—
Give me just half a glass of wine—
They sent their compliments—but oh!
How charming Olga's shoulders grow!
Her figure perfect grows with time!
She is an angel! We sometime
Must visit them. Come! you must own,
My friend, 'tis but to pay a debt,
For twice you came to them and yet
You never since your nose have shown.
But stay! A dolt am I who speak!
They have invited you this week.'
XXXIX
'Me?'—'Yes! It is Tattiana's fete
Next Saturday. The Larina
Told me to ask you. Ere that date
Make up your mind to go there.'—'Ah!
It will be by a mob beset
Of every sort and every set!'
'Not in the least, assured am I!'
'Who will be there?'—'The family.
Do me a favour and appear.
Will you?'—'Agreed.'—'I thank you, friend,'
And saying this Vladimir drained
His cup unto his maiden dear.
Then touching Olga they depart
In fresh discourse. Such, love, thou art!
XL
He was most gay. The happy date
In three weeks would arrive for them;
The secrets of the marriage state
And love's delicious diadem
With rapturous longing he awaits,
Nor in his dreams anticipates
Hymen's embarrassments, distress,
And freezing fits of weariness.
Though we, of Hymen foes, meanwhile,
In life domestic see a string
Of pictures painful harrowing,
A novel in Lafontaine's style,
My wretched Lenski's fate I mourn,
He seemed for matrimony born.
XLI
He was beloved: or say at least,
He thought so, and existence charmed.
