and by the horror of the lifeless voidthat meets me when I enter my own house,and by the novelty of these wild revels,and by the blessed poison of this cup,and by the light caresses (God forgive me)of a depraved but fair and gentle creature.My mother's soul can summon me no more;my place is here; too late!..I hear your voicecalling my soul… I recognise your effortsto save me… but, old man, depart in peace —and cursed be anyone who goes with you.Several VoicesBravo, bravo! Well spoken, worthy chairman!Now you have got your sermon, priest! Be gone!The ClergymanMathilda's stainless spirit summons you!The ChairmanNo, — promise me, — with your pale withered handraised heavenward, — promise to leave unuttereda name that death has silenced in the tomb.Could I but hide from her immortal eyesthis sight, this banquet… Once upon a timeshe thought me pure, free-spirited and proud,and my embrace was paradise to her.Where am I? Sacred child of light, I see youabove me, on a shore where my wrecked soulnow cannot reach you.A Woman's Voice Look, he has gone mad,he raves about his wife who's dead and buried.The ClergymanCome, come with me.The Chairman For God's sake, holy father,leave me.The Clergyman The Lord have mercy on your soul.Farewell, my son.The Clergyman departs. The feast continues. The Chairman remains plunged in deep meditation.<18 июля 1941>; Пало Алто, Калифорния
444–445. FROM EUGENE ONEGIN
1{*}I«My uncle has most honest principles:when taken ill in earnest,he has made one respect himand nothing better could invent.To others his example is a lesson;but, good God, what a boreto sit by a sick man both day and night,without moving a step away!What base perfidiousnessthe half-alive one to amuse,adjust for him the pillows,sadly present the medicine,sigh — and think inwardlywhen will the devil take you?»IIThus a young scapegrace thought,with posters flying in the dust,by the most lofty will of Zeusthe heir of all his relatives.Friends of Lyudmila and Ruslan!The hero of my novel,without preambles, forthwith,I'd like to have you meet:Onegin, a good pal of mine,was born upon the Neva's banks,where maybe you were born,or used to shine, my reader!There formerly I too promenaded —but harmful is the North to me.III
