Through empty hall; then passes, gliding,
Through grand salon. And on! ... All bare.
He opens up a door. . . . What's there
That strikes him with such awful pleading?
The princess sits alone in sight,
Quite unadorned, her face gone white
Above some letter that she's reading
And cheek in hand as down she peers,
She softly sheds a flood of tears.
41
In that brief instant then, who couldn't
Have read her tortured heart at last!
And in the princess then, who wouldn't
Have known poor Tanya from the past!
Mad with regret and anguished feeling,
Eugene fell down before her, kneeling;
She shuddered, but she didn't speak,
Just looked at himher visage bleak
Without surprise or indignation.
His stricken, sick, extinguished eyes,
Imploring aspect, mute replies
She saw it all. In desolation,
The simple girl he'd known before,
Who'd dreamt and loved, was born once more.
42
Her gaze upon his face still lingers;
She does not bid him rise or go,
Does not withdraw impassive fingers
From avid lips that press them so.
What dreams of hers were re-enacted?
The heavy silence grew protracted,
Until at last she whispered low: '
Enough; get up. To you I owe
A word of candid explanation.
O
negin, do you still retain
Some memory of that park and lane,
Where fate once willed our confrontation,
And I so meekly heard you preach?
It's my turn now to make a speech.
43
'Onegin, I was then much younger,
I daresay better-looking too,
And loved you with a girlish hunger;
But what did I then find in you?
What answer came? Just stern rejection.
A little maiden's meek affection
To you, I'm sure, was trite and old.
Oh God!my blood can still turn cold
