XXXIX

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XXXIX

“Me?”⁠—“Yes! It is Tattiana’s fête

Next Saturday. The Làrina

Told me to ask you. Ere that date

Make up your mind to go there.”⁠—“Ah!

It will be by a mob beset

Of every sort and every set!”⁠—

“Not in the least, assured am I!”⁠—

“Who will be there?”⁠—“The family.

Do me a favour and appear.

Will you?”⁠—“Agreed.”⁠—“I thank you, friend,”

And saying this Vladimir drained

His cup unto his maiden dear.

Then touching Olga they depart

In fresh discourse. Such, love, thou art!