Eugene Onegin. A Romance of Russian Life in Verse

A labour, torment, yet a joy,

It whiled his idle hours away

And wholly occupied his day—

The amatory science warm,

Which Ovid once immortalized,

For which the poet agonized

Laid down his life of sun and storm

On the steppes of Moldavia lone,

Far from his Italy—his own.(4)

[Note 4: Referring to Tomi, the reputed place of exile of Ovid.

Pushkin, then residing in Bessarabia, was in the same predicament

as his predecessor in song, though he certainly did not plead

guilty to the fact, since he remarks in his ode to Ovid:

                       To exile self-consigned,

   With self, society, existence, discontent,

   I visit in these days, with melancholy mind,

   The country whereunto a mournful age thee sent.

Ovid thus enumerates the causes which brought about his banishment:

   'Perdiderint quum me duo crimina, carmen et error,

   Alterius facti culpa silenda mihi est.'

                     Ovidii Nasonis Tristium, lib. ii. 207.]

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