XXXIX

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XXXIX

Onegin whither gallops? Ye

Have guessed already. Yes, quite so!

Unto his own Tattiana he,

Incorrigible rogue, doth go.

Her house he enters, ghastly white,

The vestibule finds empty quite⁠—

He enters the saloon. ’Tis blank!

A door he opens. But why shrank

He back as from a sudden blow?⁠—

Alone the princess sitteth there,

Pallid and with dishevelled hair,

Gazing upon a note below.

Her tears flow plentifully and

Her cheek reclines upon her hand.