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!