In this exhausting promenade
an hour elapses, then another,
and in a lane hard by St. Chariton's
4 the sleigh-coach at a gate before a house
now stops. To an old aunt,
for the fourth year ill with consumption,
at present they have come.
8 The door is opened wide for them
by a bespectacled gray Kalmuk,
in torn caftan, a stocking in his hand.
There meets them in the drawing room
12 the cry of the princess
on a divan prostrated. The old ladies,
weeping, embrace, and exclamations pour:
XLI
“Princess, mon ange!” “Pachette!” “Aline!”
“Who would have thought?” “How long it's been!”
“For how much time?” “Dear! Cousin!”
4 “Sit down — how queer it is!
I'd swear the scene is from a novel!”
“And this is my daughter Tatiana.”
“Ah, Tanya! Come up here to me —
8 I seem to be delirious in my sleep.
Coz, you remember Grandison?”
“What, Grandison? Oh, Grandison!
Why, yes, I do, I do. Well, where is he?”
12 “In Moscow — dwelling by St. Simeon's;
on Christmas Eve he called on me:
got a son married recently.
XLII
“As to the other... But we'll tell it all
later, won't we? To all her kin
straightway tomorrow we'll show Tanya.
4 Pity that paying visits is for me
too much — can hardly drag my feet.
But you are worn out from the journey;
let's go and have a rest together...
8 Oh, I've no strength... my chest is tired...
now even joy, not only woe,
oppressive is to me. My dear,
I am already good for nothing...
12 When one starts getting old, life is so horrid.”
And here, exhausted utterly,
in tears, she broke into a coughing fit.
XLIII
The invalid's kindness and gladness touch
Tatiana; but in her
new domicile she's ill at ease,
4 used as she is to her own chamber.
Beneath a silken curtain,
in a new bed sleep does not come to her,
and the early peal of church bells,
8 forerunner of the morning tasks,
arouses her from bed.
Tanya sits down beside the window.
The darkness thins; but she
12 does not discern her fields:
there is before her a strange yard,
a stable, kitchen house, and fence.
XLIV
And now, on rounds of family dinners
Tanya they trundle daily to present
to grandsires and to grandams
4 her abstract indolence.
For kin come from afar
there's everywhere a kind reception,
and exclamations, and good cheer.
8 “How Tanya's grown! Such a short while
it seems since I godmothered you!”
“And since I bore you in my arms!”
“And since I pulled you by the ears!”
12 “And since I fed you gingerbread!”
And the grandmothers keep repeating
in chorus: “How our years do fly!”
XLV
But one can see no change in them; in them all follows the old pattern:
the spinster princess, Aunt Eléna,
4 has got the very same tulle mob;
still cerused is Lukéria Lvóvna;
the same lies tells Lyubóv Petróvna;
Iván Petróvich is as stupid;
8 Semyón Petróvich as tightfisted;
and Palagéya Nikolávna
has the same friend, Monsieur Finemouche,
and the same spitz, and the same husband —
12 while he is still the sedulous clubman,
is just as meek, is just as deaf,
still eats and drinks enough for two.
XLVI
Their daughters embrace Tanya.
Moscow's young graces
at first in silence
4 from head to foot survey Tatiana;
find her somewhat bizarre,
provincial, and affected,
and somewhat pale and thin,
8 but on the whole not bad at all;
then, to nature submitting, they
befriend her, lead her to their rooms,
kiss her, squeeze tenderly her hands,
12 fluff up her curls after the fashion,
and in their singsong tones impart
the secrets of the heart, secrets of maidens,