1831-7 Increasing personal and professional difficulties: financial troubles, unhappy married life, dismissal as a literary force by younger generation.

1833 Second 'Boldino autumn'. Writes short story The Queen of Spades, narrative poem The Bronze Horseman; works on A History of the Pugachev Rebellion

1836        Completes historical romance The Captain's Daughter.

1837        Incensed by the attentions paid to his wife by Baron Georges d'Ants, a French adventurer in the Russian service, Pushkin challenges him to a duel and on 27 February is mortally wounded; he dies two days later and his coffin is taken at night to Svyatogorsky Monastery near Mikhailovskoe for burial.

EUGENE ONEGIN

Ptri de vanit il avait encore plus de cette espce d'orgueil qui fait avouer avec la mme indiffrence les bonnes comme les mauvaises actions, suite d'un sentiment de supriorit, peut-tre imaginaire.

Tir d'une lettre particulire*

Dedication*

Not thinking of the proud world's pleasure,

But cherishing your friendship's claim,

I would have wished a finer treasure

To pledge my token to your name

One worthy of your soul's perfection,

The sacred dreams that fill your gaze,

Your verse's limpid, live complexion,

Your noble thoughts and simple ways.

But let it be. Take this collection

Of sundry chapters as my suit:

Half humorous, half pessimistic,

Blending the plain and idealistic

Amusement's yield, the careless fruit

Of sleepless nights, light inspirations,

Born of my green and withered years . . .

The intellect's cold observations,

The heart's reflections, writ in tears.

Chapter 1

To live he hurries and to feel makes haste. Prince Vjazemsky

1

'My uncle, man of firm convictions* . . .

By falling gravely ill, he's won

A due respect for his afflictions

The only clever thing he's done.

May his example profit others;

But God, what deadly boredom, brothers,

To tend a sick man night and day,

Not daring once to steal away!

And, oh, how base to pamper grossly

And entertain the nearly dead,

To fluff the pillows for his head,

And pass him medicines morosely

While thinking under every sigh:

The devil take you, Uncle. Die!'

2

Just so a youthful rake reflected,

As through the dust by post he flew,

By mighty Zeus's will elected

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