To abandon cocks and turkeys. Fie! a fit
Amusement for a dignitary’s daughter!
And you have been caressing at your will
The unwashed children of the peasantry.
To look upon you, Sophy, grieves my heart;
Your face is tanned quite horribly, just like
A very gipsy. And you walk and move
Quite like a country girl. Now, for the future
I will amend all this, to-day begin;
And I will bring you out into the world,
Into the drawing-room, unto the guests.
We now have many guests here. Take thou heed
Thou dost not make me be ashamed of thee.”
Sophia sprang up from her seat, and clapped
Her hands with joy, and with both arms she hung
About her aunt’s neck; and by turns she laughed,
And wept aloud with joy. “Oh! auntie, ’tis
So long since I saw any visitors!
Since here I have been living among hens
And chickens, I have only seen one guest,
A wood-pigeon; and I am just a little
Wearied of sitting here in the alcove;
And even the Judge says it is bad for health.”
“The Judge,” her aunt broke in, “was constantly
Tormenting me to bring thee out into
Society; he mutters to my face,
That thou already art grown up; he knows
Not what he says; the old man never lived
In good society. But I know better
How long a damsel must have been prepared
To cause sensation, entering in the world.
For know, Sophia, that when young persons grow
In people’s very sight, though fair, though witty,
They can cause no sensation, where all folks
Were used to see them from a child. But let
A finished, grown-up damsel suddenly
Shine forth, from neither here nor there, before
The world, then all around her press, desiring
To see her; they consider all her movements,
And every look; they listen to her words,
Repeat them unto others; and when once
A damsel is the fashion, every one
Must praise her, even though she please them not.
I trust thou knowest how to find thy level;
Thou in the capital hast grown up. Though
Thou hast lived for two years in this neighbourhood,
Thou hast not quite forgotten Petersburg.
Then, Sophy, make your toilet, from the bureau;
For in it thou wilt find all things for dressing.
Make haste, for they will soon be back from hunting.”
A lady’s maid and serving-girl were called;
A pail of water in a silver basin148
Was poured. Sophia, like a sparrow in
The sand, did flutter, hands and face, and neck
She washed; and Telimena all her stores
From Petersburg did open, of perfumes,
Pomades; with choice perfume she sprinkled o’er
Sophia, the odour filled the room, she smoothed
Her locks with gum. Sophia then put on
White silken stockings, and morocco shoes
Of thin white leather; meanwhile were her stays
Laced by the lady’s maid, who over her
Then threw a dressing-jacket; then were pinched
The papilottes with heated tongs; the curls
Not being too short, were woven in two braids,
The locks upon her forehead waving free.
But freshly gathered cornflowers in a braid
Woven, the servant brought to Telimena,
Who fastened them with skill to Sophy’s locks,
Passing from right to left; the flowers stood forth
In pleasing contrast with the light fair locks,
As though with corn-ears; then the dressing-gown
Removed, the toilet all was done. Sophia
Threw on a white frock o’er her head; her hand
Held a white cambric handkerchief; and thus
She looked completely like a lily white.
The last completing touch to locks and dress
Now given, she received command to walk
Across the chamber, and again its length,
While Telimena, with a practised eye,
Reviewed her niece, grew angry, shrugged her shoulders;
Till at Sophia’s curtseying, in despair
She cried, “Ah me! Sophia, thou seest now
What ’tis to live with birds and shepherd folk.
Thou standest with thy feet apart, just like
A boy, and starest round to right and left.
A thorough hoyden! Curtsey! See how awkward!”
“Oh! auntie,” cried Sophia, quite sadly; “how
Am I to blame? You kept me shut up, auntie,
And I had none to dance with; and I liked
From very weariness to nurse the children,
And feed the poultry; wait a little, auntie;
Let me but be a little among people,
And you shall see how I will cure myself.”
“In truth,” her aunt replied, “of two bad things,
’Tis better far to live with birds, than with
Those vulgar folks who late were guests with us.
That parish priest for ever muttering prayers,
Or playing draughts, and that solicitor
With his pipe! Nice cavaliers! and pretty manners
You would have learned from them. But now at last
There’s somebody to whom to show oneself.
We in the house have some distinguished guests.
And mind, Sophia, there’s a young Count here,
A gentleman of breeding, kinsman to
A Wojewode; remember, pray, to be
Polite to him.” The neigh of horses near,
And hunters’ murmurs were already heard;
They are near the door already. “There they are!”
And seizing by the hand Sophia, she ran
Into the drawing-room. As yet the hunters
Had entered not the room; they first must change
Their dresses, for they had no wish to meet
The ladies in their shooting jackets. First
Of all the young men Master Thaddeus
And the Count entered, soon as well might be.
Then Telimena fills a hostess’ duties,
She welcomes those incoming, places them,
And entertaineth them with conversation.
To every one in turn presents her niece;
To Thaddeus first, as a near relative.
Sophia politely curtseyed; he bowed low.
He wished to speak to her, half-oped his lips;
But looking in her eyes such trouble seized him,
That standing dumb before her, he now blushed,
And now grew pale. What was within his heart
Himself he guessed not, but he felt himself
Most miserable, for he knew Sophia;
He knew her by her stature, her bright hair,
Her voice; that form, that little head, he saw
Upon the garden wall, and that sweet voice
Had woken him unto the hunt to-day.
At length the Wojski from this aberration
Roused Thaddeus, and seeing him so pale,
Unsteady on his feet, he counselled him
To go and lie down in his room. Within
A corner Thaddeus stood, against the chimney
Leaning, nought saying, his wide, wandering eyes
Now turning on the aunt, now on the niece.
Well Telimena marked what strange effect
This first sight of Sophia upon him made.
She guessed not all; but yet, howe’er embarrassed,
She entertained the guests, while from her glance
She lost him not. At last her time observing,
She ran towards him; was he well? why sad?
She asked, insisted; of Sophia she spoke,
Began to
