Thus mused a madcap young, who drove Through clouds of dust at postal pace, By the decree of Mighty Jove, Inheritor of all his race. Friends of Liudmila and Ruslan,(1) Let me present ye to the man, Who without more prevarication The hero is of my narration! Onéguine, O my gentle readers, Was born beside the Neva, where It may be ye were born, or there Have shone as one of fashion’s leaders. I also wandered there of old, But cannot stand the northern cold.(2) [Note 1: _Ruslan and Liudmila_, the title of Pushkin’s first important work, written 1817-20. It is a tale relating the adventures of the knight-errant Ruslan in search of his fair lady Liudmila, who has been carried off by a _kaldoon_, or magician.] [Note 2: Written in Bessarabia.] III Having performed his service truly, Deep into debt his father ran; Three balls a year he gave ye duly, At last became a ruined man. But Eugene was by fate preserved, For first “madame” his wants observed, And then “monsieur” supplied her place;(3) The boy was wild but full of grace. “Monsieur l’Abbé” a starving Gaul, Fearing his pupil to annoy, Instructed jestingly the boy, Morality taught scarce at all; Gently for pranks he would reprove And in the Summer Garden rove. [Note 3: In Russia foreign tutors and governesses are commonly styled “monsieur” or “madame.”] IV When youth’s rebellious hour drew near And my Eugene the path must trace— The path of hope and tender fear— Monsieur clean out of doors they chase. Lo! my Onéguine free as air, Cropped in the latest style his hair, Dressed like a London dandy he The giddy world at last shall see. He wrote and spoke, so all allowed, In the French language perfectly, Danced the mazurka gracefully, Without the least constraint he bowed. What more’s required? The world replies, He is a charming youth and wise. V We all of us of education A something somehow have obtained, Thus, praised be God! a reputation With us is easily attained. Onéguine was—so many deemed [Unerring critics self-esteemed], Pedantic although scholar like, In truth he had the happy trick Without constraint in conversation Of touching lightly every theme. Silent, oracular ye’d see him Amid a serious disputation, Then suddenly discharge a joke The ladies’ laughter to provoke. VI Latin is just now not in vogue, But if the truth I must relate, Onéguine knew enough, the rogue A mild quotation to translate, A little Juvenal to spout, With “vale” finish off a note; Two verses he could recollect Of the Æneid, but incorrect. In history he took no pleasure, The dusty chronicles of earth For him were but of little worth, Yet still of anecdotes a treasure Within his memory there lay, From Romulus unto our day. VII